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Maps, plates, charts, etc., may be filmed at different reduction ratios. Those too large to be entirely included in one exposure are filmed beginning in the upper left hand corner, left to right and top to bottom, as many frames as required. The following diagrams illustrate the method: Les cartes, planches, tableaux, etc., peuvent dtre film6s d des taux de reduction diffdrents. Lorsque le document est trop grand pour dtre reproduit en un seul clichd, il est film6 d partir de Tangle sup^rieur gauche, de gauche d droite. et de haut en bas, en prenant le nombre d'images ndcessaire. Les diagrammes suivants illustrent la mithode. 1 2 3 1 2 3 4 5 6 girWmment % THE PRESENT EDITION OF THE LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND, Commencing the 1st January, 1854, Will be regularly published, till completed, in Eight Monthly Voluriies, price 7s. 6^?. each, handsomely boxmd. Like its prede- cessor, it will be embellished with authentic Portraits of every Queen, and combine all other improvements of the late Library Edition. The Publishers subjoin a few of the Opimons of the Press on this popular Work. From The Times. "These volumes have the fascination of romance united to the integrity of history. The work is written by a lady of considerable learning, indefatigable industry, and careful judgment. All these qualifications for a biographer and an historian she has brought to bear upon the subject of her volumes, and from them has resulted a narrative interesting to all, and more particularly interesting to that portion of the community to whom the more refined researches of litera- ture afford pleasure and instruction. The whole work should be read, and no doubt will be read, by all who are anxious for information. It is a lucid arrange- ment of facts, derived from authentic sources, exhibiting a combination of industry, learning, judgment, and impartiality, not often met with in biographers of crowned heads." The Mobniitg Chbosicle. "A most valuable and entertaining work. There is certainly no lady of our day who has devoted her pen to so beneficial a purpose as Miss Strickland. Nor is there any other whose works possess a deeper or more enduring interest. Miss Strickland is to our mind the first literary lady of the age." The Moewino Post. " We must pronounce Mi.sH Strickland beyond all comparison the most enter- taining historian in the Englinh language. She is certainly a woman of powerful and active nund, as well as of scrupulous justice and honesty of purpose." The Quarterly Review. "Miss Strickland has made a very jutlicionii uae of many authentic MH authorities not previously collected, and the result is a most interesting addition to our biogTuphical library." OPINIONS OF THE PRESS — Continued. a: The Athenjeum. ' ' A valuable contribution to historical knowledge. It contains a mass of every kind of historical matter of interest, which industry and research could collect. We have derived much entertainment and instruction from the work." The Morning Herald. " A remarkable and truly great historical work. In this series of biographies, in which the severe truth of history takes almost the wildness of romance, it is the singular merit of Miss Strickland that her research has enabled her to throw new light on many doubtful passages, to bring forth fresh facts, and to render every portion of our annals which she has described an interesting and valuable study. She has given a most valuable contribution to the history of England, and we have no hesitation in affirming that no one can be said to possess an accurate knowledge of the history of the country who has not studied this truly national work, which, in this new edition, has received all the aids that further research on the part of the author, and of embellishment on the part of the publishers, could tend to make it still more valuable, and still more attractive, than it had been in its original form." The Sun. "In their appearance and decoration the volumes of this edition are worthy of their subject : they are adorned with portraits of every queen whose biography they contain, from Matilda of Flanders to Anne Stuart, and the letter- press has, since the publication of the first edition, received considerable revisions and additions from the hand of the indefatigable authoress. "It is not necessary for us now to pronounce a criticism upon the historic labours and the literary abilities of Agnes Strickland ; the value of both has been long and deservedly recognised, and we have ourselves on former occasions repeatedly expressed our appreciation and admiration of those patient labours and those great abilities. We have only now the satisfaction of announcing this new edition of her great work — a work which has conferred upon its authoress an enviable and a lasting celebrity, not only for her persevering and laborious investigations into ' the treasures of antiquity laid up in old historic rolls' — not only for the skill and discretion with which she has condensed and classified elaborate, scattered, and sometimes seemingly contradictory statements — not only for the simple and dignified eloquence of her style of narrative, but for a quality more essential to the historian than all others, and one not always to be found in so-called histories — namely, for her love of truth, and for the generous courage with which, animated by that love, she has dared to dwell upon facts at variance with popular traditions and antagonistic to popular pre- judices. For these quaUties alone Miss Strickland is entitled to a high rank in the estimation of the impartial. Her works will be found, years hence, on the shelves of every library where the treasures of history are collected, while they will continue then, as now, to attract and delight that numerous class of readers who, with a partiality for truth and a yet stronger predilection for romance, find an especial pleasure in works which, like these memoirs, combine the advantages and channs of both by giving a romantic record of that truth which is ' stranger tlian fiction.'" tains a mass of I research could from the work." I of biographies, f romance, it is ed her to throw and to render >g and valualile ry of England, i to possess an idied this truly ds that further le part of the ore attractive. on are worthy lose biography tter- press has, revisions and I the historic of both has ner occasions ttient labours ' announcing red upon its fevering and « old historic ndensed and Y statements irrative, but ' not always md for the ed to dwell )opular pre- igh rank in ice, on the while they ' of readers nance, find advantages I 'stranger •'zto?/^// 'y J,tf(ayu> /u, m.. fi'4t>. fi Hf ' ^y , X .'f Jc^^tn ■'i">*4'. VS Jfi^y !2^-'<- -L^-^^-t^ 1 ,fwi(l ori |t(* n ry ( ' oUm tri . 18&1 . fc^ :'■■.-■■'■ '.■■'' ■■;;/-V. '•-W'\, l\ >t^, VS /fc >-^A^,-' , I A 3 V\ ';?^^:5 M^Sift/iLAFrD. "^■■r''^0-K-LA¥fX; ■w ^ -- * '■ •;fK; ■■■3 -.^:!^ .-1 a-^^ '■"'Wl'.:.-,,,, ..,- ■<''^i.^-;,-«■•.'--■■ < S*"--^-**^'- :ft.. '"*; '■Va -; ) J-f''^y^->-:f-'"' London Konry C olb'irri , 18bl. /. (I. 6B^ 11 T E S ;.l)ii>' ■iriHiFi; 'Qiuip^EHs m EFfiyiu\rf:D A'£>Er :a s s "na c isxATf X). ;rt. V,, I' I' *'! Ml ii-;ii f''» ■ ll'.Al il' IMi A '•■ ■ ,|ll y.. I'\ . n'li ;;ni-HH-:iKT' LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND, Jprom tjbe Xorman (ZTonqittst NOW FIEST PUBLISHED FBOM OFFICIAL RECORDS & OTHER AUTHENTIC DOCUMENTS, PRIVATE AS WELL AS PUBLIC. BY AGNES STRICKLAND. " The treasures of antiquity laid up In old historic rolls, I opened," Ueaumont Jaurt]^ lEtiitwin, WITH ALL THE LATE IMPROVEMENTS. EUBELLISHED WITH PORTEAITS OF EVERY QUEEN. IN EIGHT VOLUMES. VOL. L -QllAWA, 'f LONDON: PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN, BY HIS SUCCESSORS, HURST AND BLACKETT, GREAT MAJiLBOBOTJGH STREET. 1854. cy ^ • 1 I V' * / # ♦f TO HEB MOST EXCaLENT MAJESTY OUB SOVEKEIGN LADT QUEEN VICTORIA, THE LIVES OF THE QUEENS OF ElTGLAND ABE, BY GRACIOUS PERMISSION. Sn»crftcir, WITH FEELINGS OP PRnponvn « PHOFOUND RESPECT AND lOTAL AFFECTION BT HER MAJESTY'S FAITHFUL SUBJECT, AIOJ DEVOTED SERVANT, AGNES STUICKLAND, ( i r , ( CONTENTS OP THE FIEST VOLUME. I'AGK PEEFACE ix INTEODUCTION 1 MATILDA OF FLANDEES, Queen op William the Con- QUEEOB 21 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, Queen of Heney I. ... 106 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, Second Queen of Hen by I. 166 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE, Queen of Stephen .... 199 ELEANOEA OF AQUITAINE, Queen of Heney II. . . 237 BEEENGAEIA OF NAVAEEE, Queen of Eichard I. . . 291 ISABELLA OF ANGOULEME, Queen of King John . . 328 ELEANOE OF PEOVENCE, subnamed La Belle, Queen of Henby III 356 ELEANOEA OF CASTILE, subnamed the Faithful, Fibst Queen of Edwabd 1 418 MAEGUEEITE OF FEANCE, Second Queen of Edwabd I. 452 ISABELLA OF FEANCE, subnamed the Faib, Queen of Edwabd II 471 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, Queen of Edwabd III. . . 543 ANNE OF BOHEMIA, subnamed the Good, First Queen OF lilCUABD II 591 I PC BE MJ AD] MA^ ELE > I BER] ISAB ELBA ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE FIRST VOLUME. PORTRAIT OF MISS AGNES STRICKLAND Frontispiece. BERENGARIA RECEIVED AT ACRE BY PHILIP AUGUSTUS, (Described page 303.) Vignette Title. MATILDA OF FLANDERS, Queen- Consort? of William the Con- queror, from MontfaU9on'8 Monumens -page 21 (Described page 93.) MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, Queen- Consort of Henry I., from the Golden Book of St. Albans in the British Museum 106 (Described page 154.) ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, Second Queen op Eenrt I., from her Seal in the possession of Abel Smith, Esq., M.P 166 (Described page 198.) MATILDA OF BOULOGNE, Queen- Consort op Stephen, from her contemporary Statue in Fumess Abbey, Lancashire 199 (Described page 236.) ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, Queen- Consort op Henry II., from her Tomb at Fontevraud 237 (Described page 338.) BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE, Queen- Consort op Ricjiard Cceur- DK- Lion, from her Tomb in the Abbey of Espan 294 (Described page 3'i7.) ISABELLA OF ANGOULEME, Queen-Consort op John, from her Monument at Fontevraud 328 (Described page 354.) ELEANOR OF PROVENCE, Quekn-Consort op Henry HI., taken from Painted Glass formerly at Strawberry Hill 356 (Described page 378.) I f* II 11 viii ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE ELEANORA OF CASTILE, First Queen- Consobt op Edward I., from her Monument in Westminster Abbey 418 (Described page 445.) MARGUERITE OF FRANCE, Second Queen of Edward L, fiom her Statuette on the Tomb of John of Eltham (her great Nephew) in Westminster Abbey 452 (Described page 469.) ISABELLA OF FRANCE, Queen- Consort op Edward II., from her Statuette on the Tomb of John of Eltham (her son) in West- minster Abbey .....'. 471 (Described page 541.) PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT, Queen- Consort op Edward III., from a contemporary Bust over the Triforium in Bristol Cathedral 543 (Described page 676.) ANNE OF BOHEMIA, First Queen-Consort op Richard II., from her Monument in Westminster Abbey 691 (Described page 613.) II \ I'AGE I., / 418 fi'om hew) 452 from Vest- 471 from ,1 543 from 591 PREFACE. Eleven years have elapsed since the first volume of these royal biographies issued from the press : fresh impressions of every successive volume have been repeatedly required, yet it was not till the completion of the undertaking that the work could be reprinted with perfect uniformity as a whole. A revised edition, embodyin;^ the collections which have been brought to light since the appearance of earlier im- pressions, is now offered to the world, embellished with por- traits of every queen in the series, from authentic and properly verified sources. The actual degree of beauty represented is no positive criterion of the charms of the original, but depends in a great measure on the state of the arts, and the ability of the sculptor, limner, or painter, to depict a pleasing likeness. The drawings have been made expressly for this work by G. P. Harding, Esq., the antiquarian artist, whose reputation stands deservedly high. Whatever improvements, however, may have been effected in the external form and fashion of our Queens, we never can contemplate them in their new costume with the same feel- ings with which we have been wont to recognise the well- thumbed copies of the first familiar editions, in the hands of gentle readers of all ages and degrees, on the decks of steam- boats, in railroad carriages, and other places of general resort, VOL. I. b X PREFACE. where stranger links of the great chain of life and intelligence are accidentally drawn together for the journey of a day, never perchance to meet again. Not unfrequently on such occasions have we been obligingly offered a peep into " the new volume" by courteous fellow-travellers, unknown to us, who suspected not how intimately we were acquainted with its contents, far less how many a toilsome day and sleepless night it had cost us to trace out the actions and characteristics of many of the royal heroines of these biographies, of whom little beyond their names was previously known. The personal histories of the Anglo-Norman, several of the Plantagenet, and even two or three of the Tudor and Stuart queen-consorts, were involved in scarcely less obscurity than those of their British and Anglo-Saxon predecessors. Dimly, however, as their memorials floated over the surface of general history, they afforded indubitable evidence that substantial matter connected with those shadows would, on diligent search, be discovered, as, indeed, the result has proved. Documentary historians alone can appreciate the diflBculties, the expense, the injury to health, to say nothing of the sacrifice of more profitable literary pursuits, that have been involved in this undertaking. The hope that the Lives of the Queens of England might be regarded as a national undertaking, honourable to the female character, and gene- raUy useful to society, encouraged us to the completion of the task. The historical biographer^s business, however zealously and carefully performed in the first instance, when breaking un- wrought ground, must be often repeated before all the widely- scattere'd and deeply-buried treasures of the Past can be collected together. Truth lies not on the substratum, but, as the wisdom of ages bears testimony, in a well, which only PREFACE. XI elligence \y, never )ccasions volume" uspected ents, far had cost ly of the ! beyond 3veral of idor and )bscurity ecessors. i surface ice that ould, on } proved, iiculties, of the ve been lives of ational gene- btion of [sly and [ng un- i'idely- ;an be )ut^ as only those who will take the trouble of digging deeply can find, although it be easy enough to draw when once the sealed-up fountain has been discovered and opened. This observation is peculiarly applicable to those documents which, after slum- bering forgotten for centuries in their secret depositories, are at last brought forward, like incorruptible witnesses in a per- plexing trial, to confute the subtleties of some specious barrister who has exerted the persuasive powers of eloquent language to establish falsehood. " Facts, not opinions," should be the historian^s motto; and every person who engages in that difficult and responsible department of literature ought to bear in mind the charge which prefaces the juryman's oath,—" You shall truly and justly try this cause, you shall present no one from malice, you shall excuse no one from favour," &c., &c. To such a height have some prejudices been carried, that it has been regarded as a species of heresy to record the evil as well as the good of persons who are usually made subjects of popular panegyric, and authors have actually feared in some cases to reveal the base metal which has been hidden beneath a meretricious gilding, lest they should provoke a host of assailants. It was not thus that the historians of Holy Writ performed their office. The sins of David and Solomon are recorded by them with stern fidelity and merited censure, for with the sacred annalists there is no compromise between truth and expediency. Expediency ! perish the word, if guilt be covered and moral justice sacrificed to such considerations ! Nothing has been more fatal to the cause of truth than the school of historical essay, which, instead of communicating in- formation, makes everything subservient to a political system, repudiates inconvenient facts as gossip, and imposes upon the defrauded reader declarations about the dignity of history, b2 xu PREFACE. \ instead of laying before him a digest of its evidences. But take the proceedings in a court of justice, — a trial for murder, for example, — how minutely is every circumstance investigated, what trifles tend to the conviction of guilt and the establish- ment of innocence. How attentive is the judge to the evidence, how indifierent to the eloquence of the advocate. He listens . to the depositions of the witnesses, he jots them down, he collates them in his tablets, he compares the first statements with the cross-examinations, he detects discrepancies, he cuts short verbiage, he allows no quibbles or prevarication, but keeps every one to the point. In summing up, he proves that all depends on the evidence, nothing on the pleadings ; if he condescend to notice the arguments of the rival counsel, it is only to caution the jury against being unduly biassed by mere elocution — words, not facts. The duty of the historian, like that of the judge, is to keep to the facts, and not to go one tittle beyond the evidences, far less to suppress or pervert them. Gur Introduction contains brief notices of the ancient British and Saxon Queens. Their records are, indeed, too scanty to admit of any other arrangement. This series of royal biographies is, however, confined to the lives of our mediaeval queens, commencing with the consort of WiUiam the Conqueror, occupying that most interesting and important period of our national chronology, from the death of the last monarch of the Anglo-Saxon hne, Edward the Con- fessor, in the year 1066, to the demise of the last sovereign of the royal house of Stuart, Queen Anne, in 1714. In this series of queens, thirty have worn the crown-matrimonial, and four the regal diadem of this realm. What changes — what revolutions — what scenes of civil and religious strife — what exciting tragedies are not involved in PREFACE. Xlll ;es. But p murder, estigated, Bstablish- evidence, [e listens lown, he atements , he cuts ion, but jves that 8 j if he sef, it is by mere an, like • go one pervert British anty to to the sort of g and ath of Con- ign of series four and d in the details of those four-and-thirty lives ! They extend over six hundred and fifty-two years, such as the world will never see again — the ages of feudality, of chivalry, and romance — ages of splendour and misery, that witnessed the brilliant chimera of crusades, the more fatal triumphs of our Edwards and Henrys, in their reiterated attempts to amiex the crown of France to that of England, and the national destitution and domestic woe that followed the lavish expenditure of English blood and treasure in a foreign land — ^the deadly feud of the rival Roses of York and Lancaster, which ended in the extinction of the name and male line of Plantagenet — the stupendous changes of public opinion that followed the accession of the house of Tudor to the throne, effecting first the overthrow of the feudal system, then of the Romish theocracy, leaving royalty to revel unchecked in a century of absolute despotism. After the crisis of the Reformation and the emancipation of England from the papal yoke, came the struggle of the middle classes for the assertion of their poHtical rights, overpowering royalty for a time, and establishing a democracy under the name of a Commonwealth; which ended, as all democracies sooner or later must, in a military dictatorship, followed by the restora- tion of the monarchical government and a fever of loyal affection for the restored sovereign. Then came the slow but sure reaction of democracy and dissent against royalty and the established church, assisted by a no-popery panic — the Orange intrigues, encouraged by a pope, against the Roman-catholic sovereign James II. — ^the conflicting passions of the revolu- tion of 1688 — the expulsion of the male line of Stuart — the triumph of an oligarchy — the Dutch reign, the era of Conti- nental wars, standing armies, national debt, and universal taxation — the contests between selfish parties and rival interests during the reign of Anne— and, finally, the happy XIV PREFACE. establishment of a protestant succession, in the peaceful accession of the illustrious House of Brunswick to the throne 1^ the United Kingdoms of Great Britain and Ireland. * With this progressive chain of national events and changes have the royal ladies in our series of queenly biographies been inextricably linked. To use the words of Guizot, " Great events have acted on them, and they have acted according to the events." ►*'ich as they were in life we have endeavoured to portray them, both in good and ill, without regard to any other considerations than the development of the facts. TLwr sayings, their doings, their manners, their costume, "lill he found faithfully chronicled in this work, which al.v-^ inclutlcs the most interesting of their letters : the orthogrnph y of these, as well as the extracts from ancient documents, have been modernised for the sake of perspicuity. The materials for the lives of the Tudor and Stuart queens are of a more copious and important nature than the records of the consorts of our Anglo-Norman and Plantagenet sove- reigns. We miss, indeed, the illuminated pages, and the no less pictures r|v,e details of the historians of the age of chivalry, rich in their quaint simplicity, for the last of the monastic chroniclers, John B-ous, of Warwick, closed his labours with the blood-stained annals of the last of the Plantagenet kings. A new school of history commences with sir Thomas More's Life of Richard III. ; and we revel in the gorgeous descriptions of Hall and HolingsLi. .' Hu) characteristic anec- dotes of the faithlid Cavendish, tl.<; < c ;i : istantial narratives of Stowe and Speed, and other annalists of less distin- guished names. It is, however, from the acts of the Privy Council, the Parliamentary Journals, and the unpublished "^egal Records and MSS. in the State Paper Office, as PREFACE. XV well as from the treasures preserved in the Bibliothhque du Rot, at Paris, and the private MS. collections of historical families and gentloraen of antiquarian research, that our most important facts are gathered. State papers, autograph letters, and other important, locuments, which the antiquarian taste of the present age has drawn forth from the repositories where they have slumbered among the dust of centuries, have aflForded their silent but incontrovertible evidence on matters illustrative of the private history of royalty, to enable writers who, unbiassed by the leaven of party spirit, deal in facts, not opinions, to unravel the tangled web of falsehood. Every person who has referred to original documents is awar that it is a work of time and patience to read the MSS. of the Tudor era. Those in the State Paper Office, and the Cot- tonian Library, have suffered much frt»in accidents, and from the injuries of time. Water, and even fire, have partially passed over some ; in others, the mild( w has swept whole sentences from the page, leaving historical mysteries in pro- voking obscurity, and occasionally baffling the attempts of the most persevering antiquary to raise the shadowy curtain of the past. The records of the Tudor queens are replete with circum- stances of powerful interest, and rich in the picturesque cos- tume of an age of pageantry and romance. Yet of some of these ladies so little beyond the general outline is known, that the lives of Jane Seymour, Anne of Cleves, and Katharine Howard, were for the first time opened to the public in this work. Our earlier queens were necessarily members of the church of Rome, and there are only the biographies of Ive avowedly protestant queens in this series. Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, and Anne of Cleves died in communion with the church of XVI PREFACE. Rome. Katharine Parr is, therefore, our first protestant queen, and the nursing mother of the Reformation. There is only another protestant queen-consort, Anne of Denmark, in this series, and our three queens-regnant, Elizabeth, Mary II., and Anne. Undoubtedly these princesses would have been better women if their actions had been more conformable to the principles mculcated by the pure and apostolic doctrines of the church of England. Sincere friends of that church will not blame those who transfer the reproach, which political creedists have brought on their profession, from her to the individuals who have violated her precepts under the pretext of defending her interests. The queens of England were not the shadowy queens of tragedy or romance, to whom imaginary words and deeds could be imputed to suit a purpose. They were the queens of real life, who exercised their own free will in the words they spoke, the parts they performed, the influence they exercised, the letters they wrote. They have left mute but irrefragable wit- nesses of what they were in their own deeds, for which they, and not their biographers, must stand accountable. To tamper with truth, for the sake of conventional views, is an imbecility not to be expected of historians. Events spring out of each other : therefore, either to siippress or give a false version of one, leads the reader into a complicated mass of errors, having the same eflfect as the spurious figure with which a dishonestly disposed school-boy endeavours to prove a sum that baffles his feeble powers of calculation. Ay, and it is as easily detected by those who are accustomed to verify history ])y the tests of dates and documents. It is, however, the doom of every writer who has had tlic fidelity to bring forward sujjpresscd evidences, or the r-^urage to confute long-established falsehoods, to be assailed, not only by the false but by the deluded, in the same PREFACE. XVll nt queen, ■e is only I, in this f 11., and en better e to the trines of irch will political r to the 3 pretext ueens of ids could 8 of real jy spoke, |sed, the jle wit- ih. they, tamper )ccility 3f eacli sion of having nicstly es his tccted sts of writer IMICCS, to be same spirit of ignorant prejudice with which Galileo was persecuted by the bigots of a darker age, for having ventured to demon- strate a scientific truth. What was the result as regarded Galileo and his discoveries? Why, truly, the poor philosopher was compelled to ask pardon for having been the first to call attention to a fact which it would now be regarded as the extreme of folly to doubt ! Neither the clamour of the angry supporters of the old opinion, nor the forced submission of the person who had exposed its fallacy, had in the least affected the fact, any more than the assertion that black is white can make evil good or good evU. Opinions have their date, and change with cir- cumstances, but facts are immutable. We have endeavoured to develop those connected with the biographies of the queens of England with uncompromising fidelity, without succumbing to the passions and prejudices of either sects or parties, the peevish ephemerides of a day, who fret and buzz out their brief terra of existence, and are forgotten. It is not for such we write : we labour in a high vocation, even that of enabling the lovers of truth and moral justice to judge of our queens and their attributes — not according to conventional censure or praise, but according to that unerring test, prescribed not by " carnal wisdom, but by heavenly wisdom coming down from above," which has said, " By their fruits ye shall know them." We have related the parentage of every queen, described her education, traced the influence of family connexions and national habits on her conduct, ))oth jjublic and private, and given a concise outline of the domestic, as well as the general history of her times, and its effects on lier character, and we have (lone so with singleness of heart, unbiassed by selfisli interests or narrow views. If we have borne false M'itness in lii 1 XVlll PREFACE. any instance, let those who bring accusations bring also proofs of their assertions. A queen is no ordinary woman, to be condemned on hear-say evidence; she is the type of the heavenly bride in the beautifiil 45th Psalm — " Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are holy, whatsoever things are pure, and of good report" in the female character, ought to be found in her. A queen-regnant occupies a still higher position — she is God's vicegerent upon earth, and is therefore to be held in reverence by his people. In propor- tion to her power, so are her responsibilities. Of the four queens-regnant, whose lives are narrated in this series of biographies, one only, queen Elizabeth, was possessed of abso- lute power. Her sister Mary I. had placed herself under the control of a cruel and tyrannical husband, v'u filled her council and her palace with his creatures, and n^ndered her the miserable tool of his constitutional bigoiry. The case of the second Mary was not unlike that of the first, as regarded the marital tutelage under which she was crushed. Anne, when she designated herself " a croMTied slave," described her position only too accurately. The Lives of the Tudor and Stuart female sovereigns form an important portion of this work ; there is much that is new to the general reader in each, in the shape of original anecdotes and ineditcd letters, especially in those of the royal Stuart sisters, Mary II, and queen Anne. The biographies of those princesses have hitherto been written, cither in profound ignorance of their conduct on the part of the writer, or else, the better to work out general principles, in the form of vague outlines full of high-sounding culogiums, in which all personal facts were omitted. We have endeavoured to supply the blanks, by tracing out their acticms, and compelling them to bear witness of themselves by their letters — such letters as PREFACE. XIX also proofs aan, to be pe of the V^hatsoever «vhatsoever character, pies a still th, and is In propor- )f the four 8 series of 3d of abso- under the filled her idered her rhe case of 8 regarded 1. Anne, cribed her signs form |hat is new 1 anecdotes 'al Stuart of those profound p, or else, of vague personal [pply the them to l«^bwio eta they permitted to survive them. Strange mysteries might have been unfolded, if biographers had been permitted to glance over the contents of those papers which queen Mary spent a lonely vigil in her closet in destroying, when she felt the dread fiat had gone forth : " Set thine house in order, for thou shalt die and not live/' The great marvel regarding the secret correspondence of royalty at such epochs, is not that so much is destroyed, but that any should survive. The materials for the biography of Mary Beatrice of Modena, the consort of James II., are chiefly derived from the unpub- lished documents of the period. Many of these, and indeed the most important, are locked up in the secret archives of France, papers that are guarded with such extreme jealousy from the curiosity of foreigners, that nothing less than the powerful introduction of M. Guizot, when premier of France, could have procured access to that collection. Through the kindness and liberality of that accomplished statesman- historian, every facility for research and transcription was granted during our residence in Paris in 1844. The residt was fortunate beyond our most sanguine expectations, in the discovery of a very important mass of inedited royal letters and contemporary records connected with the personal history of the expatriated Stuarts. Not the least curious of these, are the disjointed fragments of a quaint circumstantial diary kept by one of the nuns of Chaillot, in the years 1711, 12, 13, and 14, who, with minuteness and simplicity worthy of Samuel Pcpys himself, has recorded the proceedings and table-talk of the exiled queen during her occasional abode in that nunnery. This " convent log-book," as it has been pleasantly termed by one of our talented reviewers, was, of course, never intended for protestunt eyes, for it admits us fully within the grate, and 'I' XX PREFACE. puts us in possession of things that were never intended to be whispered without the walls of that mysterious little world ; and though, as a whole, it would be somewhat weary work to go through the detail of the devotional exercises, fasts, and other observances practised by the sisters of St. Marie de Chaillot and their royal visitor, it abounds in characteristic traits and anecdotes. Much additional light is thrown on the personal history of the exiled royal family, by the incidents that have been there chronicled from the queen's own lips. The fidelity of the statements is verified by their strict agreement with other inedited documents, of the existence of which the sister of Chaillot could not have been aware. Besides these trea- sures, we were permitted to take transcripts of upAvards of two hundred original autograph letters of this queen, being her confidential correspondence for the last thirty years of her life, with her friend Fran9oise Angelique Priolo, and others of the nuns of Chaillot. To this correspondence we are indebted for many touching pictures of the domestic life of the fallen queen and her children, during their residence in the chateau of St. Germain s. Some of the letters have been literally steeped in the tears of the royal writer, especially those which she wrote after the battle of La Iloguc, during the absence of King James, when she was in hourly expectation of the birth of her youngest child, and, finally, in her last utter desolation. The friendly assistance rendered by M. Michelet, in the pro- secution of our researches, in the Archives of the Kingdom of France, demands our grateful acknowledgments. We are also indebted, through the favour of M. Guizot, and the courtesy of M. jMignet and M. Dumtrnt, for inedited documents and royal letters from the Archives des Affaires Etranylres ; nor must ^l i ; 1 PREFACE. XXI ided to be tie world ; T work to , and other le Chaillot traits and le personal , that have Dhe fidelity ;ment with I the sister these trea- ipwards of leen, being y years of 'riolo, and indence we Gstic life of jsidence in lave been especially uring the lectation of last utter in the pro- ingdom of To arc also iourtcsy of and royal nor must I the great kindness of M. ChampoUion, in facilitating our researches in the Bibliotheque du Roi, be forgotten, nor the service rendered by him in the discovery and communication of a large portfolio of inedited Stuart papers, from the archives of St. Germain's. The lives of the Queens of England necessarily close with that of queen Anne. She is the last Queen of Great Britain of whom historical biography can be written, — at least, con- sistently with the plan of a work based on documents, and illustrated by original letters. Grateful acknowledgments re herewith offered to the noble and learned friends who have assisted us in the pro- gress of the " Lives of the Queens of England,^' by granting us access to national and family archives, and favouring us with the loan of documents and rare books, besides many other courtesies, Avhich have been continued with unwearied kindness, to the conclusion of the work. Among these we wish to notice in particular the names of our departed friends, the late Sir Harris Nicolas, the historian of The Orders of Knighthood ; Henry Howard, Esq., of Corby ; the late Sir William Wood, Garter king-of-arms ; Mr. Beltz, Lancaster Herald ; Sidney Taylor, Esq. ; and Monsieur Buchon, the learned editor of the Burgundian Chronicles; Sir Cuthbert Sharp ; Alexander Macdonald, Esq., of the Register House, Edinburgh ; R. K. Porter, and Miss Jane Porter. Of those who happily still adorn society, we have the honour to acknowledge our obligations in various ways con- nected with the documentary portion of this work, to the Baroness Willoughby de Eresby, the Dukes of Devonshire and Somerset, Lady Mary Christopher, the Countess of Strad- broke, Sir John and Lady Matilda Maxwell, of PoUoc j Lady xxu PREFACE. / Georgiana Bathurst, the Lady Petre, Dowager Lady Bed- ingfield. Sir Thomas PhiUipps, Bart., of MiddlehiU; D. E. Davey, Esq., of Ufford ; Dr. Lingard; the Rev. G. C. Tomlin- son, the Rev. Joseph Hunter; John Adey Repton, Esq., James Orchard Halliwell, Esq., John Bruce, Esq., Thomas Saunders, Esq., City Comptroller ; Rev. H. Symonds; Thomas Garrard, Esq., Town Clerk of Bristol ; Madame Colmache ; C. H. Howard, Esq., M.P. ; John Riddell, Esq., of the Faculty of Advocates, Edinburgh; Francis Home, Esq., Deputy Sheriff of Linlithgow ; Miss Mary Home ; Frederick Devon, Esq., of the Chapter-house ; J. H. Glover, Esq., her Majesty's librarian at Windsor Castle; Sir F. Madden; Sir Charles Young, Garter king-of-arms ; W. Courthope, Esq. ; and the Rev. Eccles Carter, of Bristol Cathedral. "Nov must we omit this opportunity of returning thanks to our unknown or anonymous correspondents, who have favoured us with transcripts and references, which have, occasionally, proved very useftd ; and if they have not, in every instance, been either new to us, or available in the course of the work, have always been duly appreciated as friendly attentions, and tokens of good-will. We cannot take our leave of the gentle readers who have kindly cheered us on our toilsome track, by the unqualified approbation with which they have greeted every fresh volume, without expressing the satisfaction it has given us to have been able to afford mingled pleasiu-e and instruction to so extensive a circle of friends — friends who, though personally unknown to us, have loved us, confideri in our integrity, brought our Queens into their domestic circles, associated them with the sacred joys of home, and sent them as pledges of affection to their dear ones far away, even to the remotest corners of the PREFACE. xxiii ady Bed- 1; D. E. . Tomlin- iq., James Saunders, Garrard, i; C. H. ^acuity of ty Sheriff L, Esq., of i librarian !S Young, ev. Eccles world. We should be undeserving of the popularity with which this work has been honoured, if we could look upon it with apathy; but we regard it as God's blessing on our labours, and their sweetest reward. P.S. — I have used the plural we, because I speak not only in my own name, but in that of my sister, whose share in this work I am especially desirous to notice to the world, although she refuses to allow her name to appear on the title page with that of AGNES STRICKLAND. thanks to B favoured asionally, instance, the work, ions, and Eeydon Hall, Suffolk, June, 1851. ?ho have iqualified volume, ^ave been extensive uiknown ight our ath the 3ction to •s of the I ' It • HKiliO.N UALL aUfbOLK li, ! LIVES OP THE QUEENS OF ENGLAND. INTRODUCTION. " The queen of England," says that learned commentator on the laws and constitution of this country, Blackstone, "is either queen-regnant, queen-consort, or queen-dowager." The first of these is a female sovereign reigning in her own right, and exercising all the functions of regal authority in her own person, — as in the case of her present majesty queen Victoria, who ascended the throne, not only by rightful inheritance and the consent of the people, but also in fuU accordance with the ancient British custom, noticed by Tacitus in these remarkable words : " Solent foeminarum ductu bellare, et sexum in im- periis non discemere."' No other princess has, however, been enthroned in this land under such auspicious circumstances as our present sovereign lady. Mary I. was not recognised without blood- shed. Elizabeth's title was disputed. Mary II. was only a sovereign in name, and as much dependent on the will of her royal husband as a queen-consort. The archbishop of Canter- bury forfeited the primacy of England for declining either to ' Life of Agricola. VOL. I. B * •} 2 INTRODUCTION. assist at her coronation, or to take the oaths. The same scruples of conscience withheld the nonjuring bishops and clergy, and many of the nobility and gentry of England, from performing their homage either to her, or to queen Anne. Not one of those four queens, therefore, was crowned with the unanimous consent of her people. But the rapturous acclama- tions that drowned the pealing of the bells and the thunders of the artillery, at the recognition of our beloved hege lady queen Victoria, in Westminster-abbey, can never be forgotten by those who then heard the voices of a united nation uplifted in assent. I was present, and felt the massy walls of the abbey thrill, from base to tower, with the mighty sound, as the burst of loyal .enthusiasm, within that august sanctuary, was echoed by the thronging multitude without, haLUng her queen by universal sufirage. A queen-consort has many exemptions and minute pre- rogatives. For instance, she pays no toll, nor is she liable to any amercement in any court. In aU cases, however, where the law has not expressly declared her exempted, she is upon the same footing with other subjects, being to all intents and purposes the king's subject, and not his equal.' The royal charters, in ancient times, v/ere frequently signed by the queen as well as by the king ; yet this was not in the quaUty of a coadjutor in the authority by which the grant was made, but evidently in the capacity of a witness only, and on account of her high rank she was doubtless a most unportant one. In point of security of lier life and person, the queen-consort is put on the same footing with the king. It is equally treason (by the statute of the 25th Edward III.) "to compass or imagine the death of our lady the king's companion, as of the king himself.'" "The queen is entitled to some pecuniary advantages, which form her a distinct revenue," continues Blackstone, "one of which, and formerly the most important, was the am m regiruB, or queen-gold, a royal revenue belonging to every queen-consort during her marriage with the king, and due from every person who hath made a voluntary oflFeriog or I * BlacksUne's Commentaries : Rierhts of Persons. ^ Ibid. Look i. chap. iv. < ,L INTRODUCTION. The same )i8hops and gland, from ieen Anne, ed with the us acclama- le thmiders hege lady le forgotten on uplifted alls of the Y sound, as sanctuary, lailing her inute pre- le liable to iver, where he is upon atents and The royal id by the he quality ivas made, L account one. In consort is y treason mpass or as of the vantages, ackstone, was the Qging to :ing, and Fering or chap. iv. fine to the king amounting to ten mai'kis or upwju'ds ; an* i| is due in the proportion of one-tenth part more, over ud above the entire offering or fine made to the king,' ud becomes an actual debt of record to the queen's majesty by the mere recording of the fine. Thus, if an hundred marks of silver be given to the king to take in mortmain, or to have a fair, market, park, chase, or free-warren, then the queen was entitled to ten mai'ks in silver, or rather its equivalent — one mark in gold, by the name of queen-gold, or aurum regime. Another very ancient perquisite of the queen-consort, ^s mentioned by old writers and quoted by the learned round- head Prynne,^ (who after the Restoration became, when keeper of the Tower records, a most zealous stickler for the privi- leges of the queens of England,) is, that on the taking of a whale on the coasts, which is a royal fish, it shall be divided between the king and queen ; the head only being the king's property, and the tail the queen's. The reason of this whimsical division, as assigned by our ancient records, was to furnish the queen's wardrobe with whalebone.' Now, this shrewd conjecture of the learned civilian quoted by Blackstone may be considered as sufficient authority by barristers and judges to settle the point, but as it relates to matters on which ladies, generally speaking, possess more critical know- ledge than lawyers or antiquaries, we beg to observe that the rovjl garments-feminine would be poorly provided with the article alluded to if her majesty depended on this contingency alone for her supply, as the peculiar kind of whalebone used in a lady's dress grows in the head of the fish, which, as we have seen, falls to the share of the king. It is weU known that the ward of Queenhithe derives its name from the circumstance of vessels unlading at that little hai'bour paying tolls to the queen of Henry III., Eleanor of Provence. The covetous disposition of this princess induced her to use her influence with the king, in order to compel every vessel freighted with com, or other valuable lading, to land at her quay, to increase the revenue she drew from this source. It is well for the interests of trade and commerce * PrjTine's Aurum Reginse. ^ Annira Beginee. ' Bracton. Brittou. o 2 4 INTRODUCTION. that oiir latter queens have been actuated by very different feelings towards the subjects of their royal husbands, than the sordid selfishness practised by this princess. The queen-regnant, in addition to the cares of government, has to preside over all the arrangements connected with female royalty, wliich, in the reign of a married king, devolve on the queen-consort ; she has, therefore, more to occupy her time and attention than a king, for whom the laws of England expressly provide that he is not to be troubled with his wife's affairs, Uke an ordinary husband. There have been but three unmarried kings of England, — ^WiUiam Rufiis, Edward V., and Edward VI. The two last died at tender ages; but the ' Red King ' was a determined bachelor, and his court, unrestrained by the presence and beneficial influence of a queen, was the focus of profaneness and profligacy. The earhest British queen named in history is Cartismandua, who, though a married woman, appears to have been the sove- reign of the Brigantes, reigning in her own right. This was about the year 50. Boadicea, or Bodva, the warrior queen of the Iceni, suc- ceeded her deceased lord, king Prasutagus, in the regal office. Speed gives us a curious print of one of her coias ia his Chronicle. The description of her dress and appearance on the morning of the battle that ended so disastrously for the royal Amazon and her country, quoted fi?om a Roman his- torian, is remarkably picturesque : — " After she had dismounted from her chariot, in which she had been driving from rank to rank to encourage her troops, attended by her daughters and her numerous army she proceeded to a throne of marshy turfs, apparelled, after the fashion of the Romans, in a loose gown of changeable colours, under which she wore a kirtle very thickly plaited, the tresses of lier yellow hair hanging to the skirts of her dress. About her neck she wore a chain of gold, and bore a hght spear in her hand, being of person tall, and of a comely, cheerful, and modest countenance; and so awhile she stood, pausing to survey her army, and being regarded with reverential silence, she addressed to them an im- passioned and eloquent speech on the v-Yongs of her country." INTRODUCTION. ery diflferent ids^ than the govemment, . with female ralve on the py her time of England th his wife's in but three Edward V., ages; but I his court, uence of a ♦ rtismandua, sn the sove- This was Iceni, suc- •egal office, ins in his larance on ly for the oman his- ismounted n rank to iters and marshy in a loose a kirtle anging to chain of irson tall, and so id being n an im- ^oiijitr'//' ■i i The overthrow and death of this heroic princess took place in the year 60. There is every reason to suppose that the noble code of laws called the Common Law of England, usually attributed to Alfred, were by him derived from the laws first established by a British queen. " Martia,'' says Holinshed,' " sumamed Proba, or the Just, was the widow of Gutiline king of the Britons, and was left protectress of the realm during the minority of her son. Perceiving much in the conduct of her subjects which needed reformation, she devised sundry whole- some laws, which the Britons, after her death, named the Martian statutes. Alfred caused the laws of this excellently learned princess, whom all commended for her knowledge of the Greek tongue, to be established in the realm." These laws, embracing trial by jury and the just descent of property, were afterwards collated and stOl farther improved by Edward the Confessor, and were as pertinaciously demanded from the successors of William the Conqueror by the Anglo-Normans, as by their Anglo-Saxon subjects. Rowena, the wily Saxon princess, who, in an evil hour for the unhappy people of the land, became the consort of Vorti- gem in the year 450, is the next queen whose name occurs in our early annals. Guiniver, the golden-haired queen of Arthur, and her faithless successor and namesake, have been so mixed up with the tales of the romance poets and troubadours, that it would be difficult to verify a single fact connected with either. Among the queens of the Saxon Heptarchy we hail the nursing mothers of the Cliristian faith in this island, who firmly established the good work begun by the British lady Claudia, and the empress Helena. The first and most illus- trious of these queens was Bertha, the daughter of Cherebert king of Paris, who had the glory of converting her pagan hus- band, Ethelbert, the king of Kent, to that faith of which she was so bright an ornament, and of planting the first Christian church at Canterbury. Her daughter, Ethelburga, was in like manner the means of inducing her valiant lord, Edwin kmg of Northumbria, to embrace the Christian faith. Eanfled, th6 ' Holinshed's Description of England, vol. i. p. 298 ; 4to ed. 6 INTRODUCTION. II f-. i li » daughter of this illustrious pair, afterwards the consort of Oswy kiug of Mercia, was the first individual who received the sacra- ment of baptism in Northumbria. In the eighth century, the consorts of the Saxon kings were excluded, by a solemn law, from sharing in the honours of royalty, on account of the crimes of the queen Edburga, who had poisoned her husband, Brihtric king of Wessex;' and even when Egbert consohdated the kingdoms of the Heptarchy into an empire, of which he became the Bretwalda, or sove- reign, his queen Redburga was not permitted to participate in his coronation. Osburga, the first wife of Ethelwulph, and the mother of the great Alfred, was also debarred from this distinction; but when, on her death, or, as some historians say, her divorce, Ethelwulph espoused the beautiful and ac- comphshed Judith, the sister of the empsror of the Franks, he violated this law by placing her beside him on the King's- bench, and allowing her a chair of state, and all the other dis- tinctions to which her high birth entitled her. This afforded a pretence to his ungallant s\ibjects for a general revolt, headed by his eldest son Ethelbald, by whom he was deprived of half his dominions. Yet Ethelbald, on his father's death, was so captivated by the channs of the fair cause of his parricidal re- bellion, that he outraged all Clunstian decency by marrying her. The beautifiU and unfortunate Elgiva, the consort of Edwy, has afforded a favourite theme for poetry and romance; but the partisans of her great enemy, Dunstan, have so mystified her history, that it would be no easy matter to give an authentic account of her hfe. Elfrida, the fair and false queen of Edgar, has acquired an infamous celebrity for her remorse- less hardness of heart. She did not possess the talents neces- sary to the accompUshmcnt of her design of seizing the reins of government after she had assassinated her unfortunate step- son at Corfe-castle, for in this she was entirelv circumvented by the political genius of Dunstan, the master-spirit of the age. * Altlioujfh this iiifamouH wonum c'scajM-d the vciif;. nrc of Iniiniin jiwtioo by fli>ciiig to tlio rontincnt, hIio wiwt reil to bucIi abject dcHtitutioii, tbat Assi-r di'daiTH slic was svvu br^giiijjf her bread ut I'avia, where she diwl, — Note to Malinusbury, hy Dr. (H'.s INTRODUCTION. isort of Oswy ed the sacra- Saxon kings the honours ;n Edburga, Vessex;' and e Heptarchy Ida, or sove- larticipate in Iwulph, and i from this e historians ful and ac- ! Franks, he the King's- le other dis- his afforded volt, headed ived of half ath, was so irricidal re- irrying her. of Edwy, lance; but mystified o give an 'alse queen rcmorse- nts neces- the reins iiate step- umvcnted it of the in jiiHtico by I, tluit AsHlT (l._\,.t,. in Emma of Normandy, the beautiful queen of Ethelred, and afterwards of Canute, plays a conspicuous part in the Saxon annals. There is a Latin treatise, written in her praise by a contemporary historian, entitled, " Encomium Emmee ;" but, notwithstanding the florid commendations there bestowed upon her, the character of this queen must be considered a doubtfiil one. The manner in which she sacrificed the interests of her children by her first husband, Ethelred, to those by her second unnatural marriage with the Danish conqueror, is little to her credit, and was certainly never forgiven by her son, Edward the Confessor j though that monarch, after he had witnessed the triumphant manner in which she cleared herself of the charges brought against her by her foes, by passing through the ordeal of walking bare- foot, unscathed, over the nine red-hot ploughshares in Win- chester cathedral, threw himself at her feet in a transport of filial penitence, implored her pardon with tears, and sub- mitted to the discipUne at the high altar, as a penance for having exposed her to such a test of her innocence.' Editha, the consort of Edward the Confessor, was not only an amiable, but a learned lady. The Saxon historian, Ingul- phus, himself a scholar at Westminster-monastery, close by Editha's palace, affirms that the queen used frequently to intercept him and his school-fellows in her walks, and ask them questions on their progress in Ijatin, or, in the words of his translator, " moot points of grammar with them, in which she oftentimes posed them.'' Sometimes she gave them a piece of silver or two out of her own purse, and sent them to the palace-])uttery to breakfiust. She was skilful in the works of the needle, and with her own hands she embroidered the garments of her royal husband, l^^dward the Confessor. But well as the acquirements and tastes of Editha qualified licr to be the companion of that learned prince, he never treated her with the affection of a husband, or ceased to remember that her fatlier had supported the Danish usurpation, and inibnied his hands in the blood of the royal line. The last Anglo-Saxon queen, Edith, or Alfgitli, surunmed ' Miluur'd WiuclieskT, 8 INTRODUCTION. I A i the Fair, the faithful consort of the unfortunate Harold, was the sister of the earls Morcar and Edwin, so celebrated in the Saxon annals, and the widow of Griffin, prince of North Wales. The researches of sir Hemy EUis, and other anti- quaries of the present day, lead to the conclusion that the touching instance of woman's tender and devoted love, — the verification of Harold's mangled body among the slain at Hastings, generally attributed to his paramour, belongs rather to queen Edith, his disconsolate widow. Such is the brief summary of our early British and Anglo- Saxon queens. A far more important position on the pro- gressive tableau of history is occupied by the royal ladies who form the series of our mediaeval queens, commencing with Matilda of Flanders, the wife of WiUiam the Conqueror, the mother of a mighty line of kings, whose august representative, our hege lady queen Victoria, at present wears the crown of thisi realm. The spirit of chivalry, bom in the poetic South, was not understood by the matter-of-fact Saxons, who re- garded women as a very subordinate link of the social chain. The Normans, having attained to a higher grade of civiliza- tion, brought with them the refined notion, inculcated by the troubadours and minstrels of France and Italy, that the softer sex was entitled, not only to the protection and tenderness, but to the homage and service of all true knights. The revo- lution in popular opinion effected by this generous sentiment elevated the character of woman, and rendered the consort of an Anglo-Norman or Plantagenet king a personage of scarcely less importance than her lord. " There is something," observes an eloquent contcmporaiy, ** very peculiar in the view which we obtain of history in tracing the lives of queens-consort. The great world is never entirely sliut out : the chariot of state is always to be seen, — the sound of its wheels is ever in our ears. We observe that the thoughts, the feelings, the actions of her whose course we are tracing are at no time entirely disconnected with him by wliose hand the reins are guided, and we not unfrequcntly detect the im- pulse of her finger by the direction in wliich it moves." Whether beloved or not, the inuucncc on society of the wife If INTRODUCTION. 9 and companion of the sovereign must always be considerable; and for the honour of womankind be it remembered, that it has, generally speaking, been exerted for worthy purposes. Our queens have been instruments, in the hands of God, for the advancement of civihzation, and the exercise of moral and reUgious influence; many of them have been brought from foreign climes to plant the flowers and refinements of a more pohshed state of society in our own, and weU have they, for the most part, performed their mission. WiUiam the Conqueror brought the sword and the feudal tenure. He burned villages, and turned populous districts into his hunting-grounds. His consort, Matilda, introduced her Fle- mish artisans, to teach the useful and profitable manufactures of her native land to a starving population : she brought her architects, and set them to build the stately fanes, which gave employment to another class of her subjects, and encou- raged the fine arts, — sculpture, painting, and needle- work. Above all, she bestowed especial regard and honours on the poets and choniclers of her era. The consort of Henry I., Matilda of Scotland, famiUarly designated by her subjects " Maude, the gode queue," not only excelled in personal works of piety and charity, and in refining the morals and manners of the hcentious Norman court, but exerted her influence with her royal husband to obtain the precious boon of a charter for the people, which secured to them the privilege of being governed by the righteous laws of Edward the Confessor. Her graceful successor, Adehcia of Louvaine, was, like herself, a patroness of poetry and history, and did much to improve the spirit of the age by aflfording a bright example of purity of conduct. Our third Matilda, the consort of Stephen, was the founder of churches and hospitals, and the friend of the poor. It is certain that her virtues, talents, and conjugal heroism did more to preserve the crown to her husband than the swords of the warlike barons who esiwused his cause. Eleanora of Aquitaino, though defective in her moral conduct, was a useful queen in her statistic and commercial regulations* Bercngaria, the crusading queen, of whom so much has r4*|^»Mfti%V* > MM* V 10 INTRODUCTION. \ ;:! been said and so little known, before the publication of her biography in the first edition of this work, was only in- fluential through her mild virtues, her learning, and her piety; but she never held her state in England, which, during the greater portion of her warlike husband's reign, was suffering from the evils of absenteeism. Isabella of Angouleme, the consort of John, was one of the few queens who have left no honourable memorials, either on the page of history or the statistics of this country. Neither can any thing be said in praise of Eleanor of Provence, the consort of Henry III., whose selfishness, avarice, and reckless extravagance offended all ranks of the people, especially the citizens of London, and precipitated the realm into the horrors of ci\il war. The moral beauty of the character of Eleanor of Castile, the consort of Edward I., her wisdom, prudence, and feminine virtues, did much to correct the e^ils which the foUies of her predecessors had caused, and restored the queenly office to its proper estimation. Her amiable successor, Marguerite of France, has left no other records than those of compassion and kindliness of heart. For the honour of female royalty be it noticed, that Isabella of France is the only instance of a queen of England acting in open and shameless violation of the duties of her high vocation, allying herself with traitors and foreign agitators against her king and husband, and staining her name with the combined crimes of treason, adultery, murder, and regicide. It would, indeed, be difficult to parallel, in the history of any other country, so many beautiful examples of conjugal devotedness as are to be foimd in the minals of the queens of England. Much of the statistic prosperity of England during the long, glorious reign of Edward III., may with justice be attributed to the admirable qualities and popular government of queen Philippa, who had the wisdom to establish, and the good taste to encourage, home manufac- tures, and never failed to exert her influence in a good cause. Under the auspices and protection of the ])lameless An* j of Bohemia, the first queen of llichard II., we hail the first ■> IL.-... INTRODUCTION. 11 tion of her s only in- I her piety; during the s suffering one of the \, either on Neither )vence, the id reckless ecially the into the of Castile, 1 feminine lies of her ffice to its juerite of ompassion iced, that ■ England es of her foreign nng her murder, 3I, in the imples of 8 of the )erity of II., may ties and wisdom lanufac- cause. «s An» 5 he first dawn of the principles of the Reformation. The seeds that were then sown under her gentle influence, though ap- parently crushed in the succeeding reigns, took deeper root than shallow observers suspected, and were destined to spring up in the sixteenth century, and to produce fruits that should extend to the ends of the earth, when, in the fulness of time, the gospel should be preached by English missionaries to nations, of whose existence neither WickUffe nor his royal patroness, queen Anne of England, in the fourteenth century, were aware. Isabella of Valois, the virgin widow of Richard II., whose eventful history has been for the first time recorded in this work, had no scope for queenly influence in this country, being recalled at so tender an age to her own. Rapin has been betrayed by his vindictive hatred of hia own country to assert, that every king of England who married a French princess was unfortunate, and came to an untimely end ; but how far this assertion is borne out by facts, let the triumphant career of Henry V:, the husband of Katherine of Valois, daughter of Chprles VI. of France, answer. The calamitous fate of Henry VI. resulted, not from his marriage with Margaret of Anjou, but was brought about by a con- catenation of circumstances, which inevitably prepared the w.iy for the miseries of his reign long before that unfortunate princess was bom. The fatal deviation from the regular line of the regal succession in the elevation of Henry IV. to the throne, ensured a civil war as soon as the representative of the elder line should see a favourable opportunity for asserting his claims. The French wars, by exhausting the resources of the crown, compelled the ministers of Henry VI. to resort to excessive taxation, and the yet more impopuiar expedient of debasing the sUver coinsige ; and thus the affections of the people were alienated. The military talents of the duke of York, his wealth, and family alliance with the most powerful and popular nobleman in England, — the earl of Warwick, must necessanly have turned the scale against the impoverished sovereign, even if he had been better fitted by nature and education to maintain a contest. The energies of Henry's queen, in tinith, supported his cause long after any other person i ' 12 INTRODUCTION. \ 1 )i . I 8 would have regarded it as hopeless. Her courage and firmness delayed a catastrophe which nothing could avert. It is a curious study to trace the effect of the political changes of those unquiet times on the consorts of Henry VI., Edward IV., and Richai'd III. Tlu-ee women more essen- tially opposite in their characteristics and conduct than the three contemporary, but not hostile, queens of the rival roses, — Margaret of Anjou, Ehzabeth Woodville, and Anne Neville, it would be difficult to find. The first, of royal birth and foreign education, schooled in adversity from her cradle, lion-hke and indomitable under every vicissitude; the second, the daughter of one Enghsh knight and the widow of another, fair, insinuating, full of self-love and world-craft, inflated by sudden elevation, yet vacillating and submitting to become the tool of her enemies in her reverse of fortune ; the third, the type of the timid dove, who is transferred wiihout a struggle from the talons of the stricken eagle who had first seized her, to the grasp of the wily kite. How strangely were the destinies of these three unfortunate queens allied in calamity by the poUtical chiinges of an era, which is thus briefly defined by the masterly pen of Guizot : — " The history of England in the fifteenth century consists of two great epochs, — the French wars without, those of the roses Avithin, — the wars abroad and the wars at home. Scarcely was the foreign war tenninated when the civil war commenced ; long and fatally was it continued while the houses of York and Lancaster contested the throne. When those sanguinary disputes were ended, the high English aristocracy found themselves ruined, decimated, and deprived of the power they had formerly exercised. The associated barons could no longer control the throne when it was ascended by the Tudors ; and with Henry VII., in 1485, the era of centralization and the triumph of royalty commenced." The sovereign and the gi'eat body of the people from that time made common cause to prevent the re-establishment of an oligar'^hy, which had been found equally inimical to the rights of the commons and the dignity of tlie crown. Having thus briefly traced the history and influence of the INTRODUCTION. 18 queens of England from the establishment of the feudal system to its close, commencing with the first Anglo-Norman queen, Matilda the wife of WiUiam the Conqueror, and con- cluding with Anne of Warwick, the last Plantagenet queen, herself the sad representative of the mightiest of all the aristo- cratic dictators of the fifteenth century — the earl of Warwick, sumamed ' the king-maker,' we proceed to consider those of the new epoch. Ehzabeth of York, the consort of Henry VII., is the connecting link between the royal houses of Plantagenet and Tudor. According to the legitimate order of succession she was the ightful sovereign of the rer.hn, and though she con- descended to accept the crown-matrimonial, she might have contested the regal garland. She chose the nobler distinction of giving peace to her bleeding country by tacitly investing her victorious champion with her rights, and blending the rival roses of York and Lancaster in her bridal-wreath. It was thus tha* Henry VII., unimpeded by conjugal rivalry, was enabled to work out his enlightened plans, by breaking down the barriers with which the pride and power of the aristocracy had closed the avenues to preferment against the unprivileged classes. The people, tired of the evils of an oligarchy, looked to the sovereign for protection, and the first stone in the altar of civil and religious liberty was planted on the ruins of feudality. The effects of the new system were so rapid, that in the succeeding reign we behold, to use the forcible language of a popular French writer, " two of Henry the Eighth's most powerftd ministers of state, Wolsey and Cromwell, emanating, the one from the butcher's shambles, the other from the blacksmith's forge." Extremes, however, are dangerous, and the despotism which these and other of Henry's parvenu statesmen contrived to establish was, whUe it lasted, more cniel and oppressive than the tyranny and exclusiveness of the feudal magnates; but it had only an ephemeral existence. The art of printing had become general, and the spirit of freedom was progressing on the wings of knowledge through the land. The emancipation of England from the papal domination followed so immediately, that it :f 14 INTRODUCTION. I.' I I If: appears futile to attribute that mighty change to any other cause. The stormy passions of Henry VIII., the charms and genius of Anne Bolejm, the virtues and eloquence of Katharine Parr, all had, to a certain degree, an effect in hastening the crisis ; but the Reformation was cradled in the printing-press, and estabUshed by no other instrument. In detailing the successive historic tragedies of the queens of Henry VIII., we enter upon perilous ground. The lapse of three centuries has done so little to calm the excited feelings caused by the theological disputes with which their names are blended, that it is scarcely possible to state facts impartially without displeasing those readers, whose opinions have been biassed by party writers on one side or the other. Henry VIII. was married six times, and divorced thrice : he beheaded two of his wives, and left two surviving widows, — ^Anne of Cleves and Katharine Parr. As long as the virtuous influence of his first consort, Katharine of Arragon, lasted, he was a good king, and, if not a good man, the evil passions which rendered the history of the latter years of his life one continuous chro- nology of crime, were kept within bounds. Four of his queens claimed no higher rank than the daughters of knights : of these, Anne Boleyn and Katharine Howard were cousins- germau; both were married by Henry during the life of a pre- viously wedded consort of royal birth, and were alike doomed by the remorseless tyrant to perish on a scaffold as soon as the ephemeral passion which led to their fatal elevation to a throne had subsided. We know of no tragedy so fidl of circumstances of painful interest as the hves of those imhappy ladies. It ought never to be forgotten, that it was to the wisdom and moral courage of his last queen, the learned and amiable Katharine Parr, that England is indebted for the preservation of her universities from the general plunder of ecclesiastical property. The daughters of Henry VTII., Mary and Elizabeth, occupy more important places than any other ladies in this series of royal biographies. They were not only queens but sovereigns, girded with the sword of state and invested with the spmrs of knighthood at their respective inaugurations, in token that INTRODUCTION. 15 ny other irms and i^atharine ning the Qg-press, e queens 'he lapse . feelings ames are ipartially sive been lyVIII. ided two )f Cleves ce of his a good rendered >us chro- LS queens ;hts : of cousins- )f a pre- doomed soon as on to a full of inhappy to the Led and for the nder of occupy 3ries of ^reigns, 3urs of that they represented their male predecessors in the regal office, not merely as legislators, but, if necessary, as mUitary leaders. Mary virtually abdicated her high office when she became, in evil hour both *br herself and her subjects, the consort, and finally the miserable state-tool and victim, of the despotic bigot, Phihp the Second of Spain. Purely EngUsh in her descent, both on the father and mother's side for many generations, EHzabeth, notwithstanding the regal blood of the Plantagenets, which she derived from her royal grandmother, EUzabeth of York, was, hterally speak- ing, a daughter of the people, acquainted intimately with the manners, customs, and even the prejudices of those over whom she reigned. This nationahty, which never could be acquired by the foreign consorts of the Stuart kings, endeared her to her subjects as the last of a line of native sovereigns, while her great regnal talents rendered her reign prosperous at home and glorious abroad, and caused the sway of female monarchs to be regarded as auspicious for the time to come. The life of every queen of England whose name has been involved with the conflicting parties and passions excited by revolutions or differences of religious opinions, has always been a task of extreme difficulty. More peculiarly so with regard to the consorts of Chai'les I., Charles II., and James II., since, for upwards of a century after the revolution of 1688, it was considered a test of loyalty to the reigning family and attach- ment to the church of England to revile the sovereigns of the house of Stuart, root and branch, and to consign them, their wives and children, their friends and servants, and every one who would not unite in desecrating their tombs, to the reproba- tion of all posterity. Every one who attempted to write history at that period was, to use the metaphor of the witty author of Eothen, " subjected to the immutable law, »vhich compels a man with a pen in his hand to be uttering now and then some sentiment not his own, as though, Uke a French peasant under the old regime, he were bound to perform a certain amoimt of work on the pubUc highways." Happily the ne- cessity, if it ever existed, of warping the web of truth to fit the exigencies of a pohtical crisis, exists no longer. The title 16 INTRODUCTION. B I 1 1 »r! of the present illustrious occupant of the throne of Great Britain to the crown she wears is founded on the soundest principles, both of constitutional freedom of choice in the people, and legitimate descent from the ancient monarchs of the realm. The tombs of the last princes of the male line of the royal house of Stuart were erected at the expense of their august kinsman George IV. That generous prince set a noble example of liberal feeling in the sympathy which he was the first to accord to that unfortunate family. He did more ; he checked the hackneyed system of basing modem history on the abuse of James II. and his consort, by authorizing the publication of a portion of the Stuart papers, and employing his librarian and historiographer to arrange the life of that prince from his journals and correspondence. The consort of James II., Mary Beatrice of Modena, played an important rather than a conspicuous part in the historic drama of the stirring times in which her lot was cast. The tender age at which she was reluctantly torn from a convent to become the wife of a prince whose years nearly trebled her own, and the feminine tone of her mind, deterred her from interfering in affairs of state during the sixteen years of her residence in England. The ascetic habits and premature superannuation of her unfortunate consort compelled her, for the sake of her son, to emerge at length from the sanctuary of the domestic altar to enter upon the stormy arena of public life, when she became, and continued for many years after, the ralljdng point of the Jacobites. AU the plots and secret correspondence of that party were carried on under her auspices. There are epochs in her life when she comes before us in her beauty, her misfortunes, her conjugal tender- ness, and passionate maternity, hke one of the distressed queens of Greek tragedy struggling against the decrees of adverse destiny. The slight mention of her that appears on the stuface of Enghsh history has been penned by chroniclers of a different spirit from " GriflBth," — men whose hearts were either hardened by strong political and polemic animosities, or who, as a matter of business or expediency, did their utmost to defame her, because she INTRODUCTION. 17 of Great soundest 36 in the narchs of lie line of le of their et a noble ; was the more; he listory on •izing the employing "e of that Modena, rt in the was cast, a from a ITS nearly , deterred ;een years )remature d her, for sanctuary arena of any years plots and an under he comes d tender- distressed screes of appears nned by men ical and iness or use she ;.' was the wife of James II. and the mother of his unfor- tanate son. The bitterest of her unprovoked enemies, piirnet, was reduced to the paltry expedients of vituperation and ?alumny in the attacks he constantly makes on her. The first, Uke swearing, is only an imbecile abuse of words, and the last vanishes before the slightest examination. History is happily written on different principles in the present age. " We have now," says Guizot, " to control our assertions by the facts -" in plain English, to say nothing either in the way of praise or censure which cannot be substantiated by sound evidence. It was the personal influence of Mary Beatrice with Louis XIV., the dauphin, and the duke of Burgundy, that led to the infraction of the peace of Ryswick by the courts of France and Spain, tlirough their recognition of her son's claims to an empty title : to please her, Louis XIV. allowed the dependent on his bounty to be proclaimed at the gates of one of his own royal palaces as James III., kiag not only of Great Britain and Ireland, but even of France, and to quarter the fleur-de-lis unmolested. The situation of the royal widow and her son, when abandoned by their protector Louis XIV. at the peace of Utrecht, closely resembles that of Constance of Bretagne and her son Arthui' a^'ter the recog- nition of the title of king John by their allies; but Mary Beatrice exhibits none of the fierce maternity attributed by Shakspeare to the mother of the rejected claimant of the English throne: her feelings were subdued by a long ac- quaintance with adversity and the fever of disappointed hope. Our Dutch king, William III., is supposed to have intimated his contempt for the ^air sex in general, and his jealousy of his illustrious consort's superior title in particular, when it was proposed to confer the sovereignty of Great Britain on her, by his coarse declaration that " he would not hold the crown by apron-strings." But the fact was, that Mary, though two degrees nearer in blood to the regal succession, had no more right to the crown than himself as the law then stood ; and if the order of lesitimacy were to be viola,ted b y settm^ clSlUO the male heir, William saw no reason why it should be doaa VOL. I. •■• ! I 1 * 18 INTRODUCTION. in Mary's favour rather than his own. The conventional assembly adjusted this delicate point by deciding that the prince and princess of Orange should reign as joint sovereigns, to which William outwardly consented ; yet the household-books furnish abundant proofs that, as far as he durst, he deprived his queen of the dignity which the will of the people had con- ferred upon her. The warrants were for a considerable time issued in his name singly, and dated in the first or second years of his, instead of their majesties* reign. It is also observable, that he never allowed her to participate with himself in the ceremonial of opening or proroguing parhament, on which occa- sions he occupied the throne solm, and arrogated exclusively to himself the regal office of sceptering or rejecting biUs, which ought to have been submitted to her at the same time. Mary, though naturally ambitious and fond of pageantry, endured these ungaUant curtaUments of her royal prerogatives and personal dignity with a submission, which her foreign spouse could never have ventured to exact from her if she had succeeded to the Britannic empire on the demise of the crown. In that case, WiDiam of Orange would have been indebted to her favour for the empty title of king, and such ceremonial honours and dignity as it might have pleased her to confer on him. Circumstances were, however, widely different. WiUiam's Dutch troops had rudely expelled Mary's royal father from liis palace, forced him to vacate his regal office by driving him from the seat of government, and causing him to flee for refuge to a foreign land. WiUiam remaining thus undisputed master of the metropolis and exchequer, con- sidered that Mary was indebted to him, not he to her, for a crown ; and although the suffrages of the people invested her with the dignity of queen-regnant, she was, in all thinsg, as subservient to his authority as if she had been merely a queen- consort. The conjugal apron-strings were, nevertheless, Wil- liam's strongest hold on the crown of England. Nothing but Mary's popidar and able government at home could have enabled him to overcome the difficulties of his position during the revolt of Ireland and the insurrection in Scotland. The mild sway of Anne, her tenderness of the lives of her INTRODUCTION. 19 subjects, her munificent charities to the poor, her royal boun- ties to that meritorious portion of the church, the indigent working clergy, caused her to be regarded, while living, with loyal affection by the great body of her subjects, and endeared her memory to succeeding generations. Anne is the last queen of Great Britain of whom a personal history can be written, tiU Time, the great mother of truth, shall raise the curtain of a recent but doubtftd past, and by the pubhcation of letters and domestic state-papers now inaccessible, enable those who may undertake the biographies of the queens of the reigning family to perform their task with fidehty. c Ji It '> It* I II ■ - ' II ./^///Z' /' ^'^/yv/.V 1. II i n, :i-i,r/ ' ' li »; \in pv OF fla:ndirs, M tup: coxQrF.aoR. 4 ji ;, 'H ^jaf,»~-n('(T5«a • -M*"!'''!. «. a . . 'a ! - « ; -• - -^ f* v. - l''iTi,lf'x- K'lriMt.T'it — t.varr.j ^— -»U-<'r)i.i.'Kiy — ii.> fniM i.ihai'. \ca<. - i r.>n«;- i«s»V''1.;iui Matililft — Truii Uiiirriiitn — Uirh aji]ifcr»>'. — VVir.ii»M'! Cijly I'vCi'— W illiimi and .'■ia»il(ta tixot^UiiMiuloitnl — i»is]ion.-Htiin- -.M:i»^ UU>' !u..ti jr.r arihitivs.iif«.! Lv Iut— **•;.'■• !m h«ii* in it t,i ri.^ins! i, (.in ^ •ti'i'Ui'fitiotis — Uiiir!'.' if H uslija^^^ — "^ w!' or victory i>i*oufr!.t x- Mtt. i'u- <► • ■ jmlv of 'i .xi 'li.linsrs, «.it «»f" tt I rii't f^ V> ^li-uii i*' ho VMS nil!' '4 i rcf/ina.'^ Tins I. ••• 1 i . .i N»ti>s iti i.hc 'and, ^or the ^ nv iiinov.-iti'u- i, • • , ■• . .-m,*' and in t! ("Hi »' •• *' l.f>;f ("iic Noruian:* .-.;. .1) liiii Ufo f.f Vl'V-<".. I », •»«t'. >'til int'r\.l\ Vii'- kijiif M \, ♦• ' d.'*.-*!. Hull ilio ^iiM'ii l.istiirM '-' • • st'Iv ' .jitt-«»ly Ja»'>n, Mw, ill iti>ih iiititaiKfw, .i\'i!i «»<>nl »•<•(,»'« I, to jiiifititS' ,<«.»'! !■»■• v: •■•J>h;>m'<1 1 !' iiitnxliu'iitr u lHir< <».« \»tH-»i ;liio tlif |j»till l»>Xt ; It) ' ir :»H(l'iil.i ii I'vidotit. /tlijj'diifti *• «*«T#»* in thr Sttji-ui j^»r.»« Mmtilit^, orlu'l\, mcHu- tl .■ 'ithct • Mil;' tWlJl, '>r •jHH, ^i<« til'lilltly V»(d li> ;i '• Tlli ol jlllilitv, iUiHmtU : S ■•"^i •. ■^;- MATILDA OF FLANDERS, QUEEN OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. CHAPTER I. Title of Qneen — Rcgina — Matilda first so called — Her descent from Alfred- Parents — Education — Learning — Beauty — Character — Skill in embroidery- Sought in marriage by William of Normandy — His passionate love — Unsuc- cessful courtship— Brihtric Meaw, the English envoy — Matilda's love for him —Perseverance of William of Normandy— Furious conduct of William to Matilda — Their marriage — Rich apparel — William's early life — William and Matilda excommunicated — Dispensation — Matilda's taste for architecture-^ — Matilda's sister manned to Tostig — Birth of Matilda's eldest son — Harold's visit — Betrothed to Matilda's daughter — William's invasion of England- Letter to Mi'^'lda's brother — Matilda ap|wintcd regent of Normandy — Her son Robert — Happy arrival of Matilda in the Mora^ — Ship presented by her — William sails in it to England-— Matilda's dehneations — Battle of Hastuigs — News of victory brought to Matilda — Our Lady of (Jood Tidings. M\TiLDA, the wife of William the Conquen^r, was the first consort of a king of England who was caUed regina} This was an innovation in the ancient customs of the land, for the Saxons simply styled the wife of the king ' the lady his com- panion/^ and ti them it was displeasing to hejir the Normans ' Asscr, in his lift of Alfi-cd, whose contemporary and friend lie was, and must therefore be regarded as a very important authority, expressly states the Anglo-Saxons did not "sufler the queen to sit near the k'lg, nor to l)e cidled regina, but merely the king's wife :" that is, quen, or comjianion. It ought to be nott'd, tliat the Saxon historians writing in Latin, use, in both instances, the Latin word regina, io signify (i»u'en, l»eing a8hami>d of introducing a bar- barous word into the Latin text ; bi't tlic meaning is evident. * liinfdifje se cwene is the Saxon phrase. Hliifdige, or lady, means the 'giver of bread ;' cweue, or quen, Wiu anciently UBod us u term uf equality, ludLscri- 22 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. l;l :.ff t ] i epeak of Matilda as la Royne, as if she were a female sovereign, reigning in her o^ right ; — so distinct in those days was the meaning attached in this country to the lofty title of reine, or regina, from that of queen, which, though at present the highest female title of honour used in England, then only signified companion. The people of the land murmured among themselves at tliis unprecedented assumption of dignity in the wife of their Norman sovereign ; yet ' the strange woman,' as they called Matilda, could boast of royal Saxon blood. She was, in fact, the direct descendant of the best and noblest of their monarchs, Alfred, through the marriage of his daughter Elstrith with Baldwin II. of Flanders, whose son, Arnold the Great, was the immediate ancestor of Matilda, — an interesting circumstance, which history passes over in silence.' Few of the queens of England, indeed, can claim a more illustrious descent than this princess. Her father, Baldwin V., sumamed the Gentle, earl of Flanders, was the son of Baldwin IV. by Eleanora, daughter of duke Richard II. of Normandy; and her mother was Adelais, daughter of Roberl; king of France, and sister to Henry, the reigning sovereign of that countiy. She was nearly related to the emperor of Germany, and to most of the royal families in Europe. " If any one," says William of Poitou, " inquires who was Matilda's mother, he will learn that she was the daughter of Robert king of Gaul, the son and the nephew of kings from royal kings descended." minatcly applietl (o both sexes. In the old Noi'mnn chronicles and poems, instead of the duke of Normandy and his peers, tlie phrase usi^d is the duke of Normandy and his quens. " The word * quen,' signifying companion," says Kapin, vol. i. p. 148, "was common ' ath to men and women." So late as the thirteenth centmy a collection of poems, written by Charles of Anjou and his com*tiers, is quoted as the Songs of the Quens of Anjou. Also in a chant of the twelfth ciintury, cuumeratuig the war-cries of the French provuiccs, we iiud And the quens of Thibaut " Champagne and passavant!" cry. ' See Matilda's ptnligreo in Dx-.carel's Norman Antiquities. She was al«>o dcscendcnl from Judith, daughter of the cmp<>rc)r of the Franks, who after the death of Ethelwolf marri (I the earl of Flanders. One of the annotators on WiUiam of Malmesbury asserts, that Judith, the widow of Kthelwolf, was the mother of Matilda the '.vifc of tl'.e Conqueror } but if so, Matilda must have been 150 years old at the time of lier marriage. M MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 23 sovereign, rs was the f reine, or •esent the then only ed amon» ity in the 3 woman/ on blood, best and age of his hose son, atilda,. — over in a claim a r father, , was the chard II. ghter of reigning d to the milies in ' inquires was the ephew of ms, instead Normandy pin, vol. i. thirteenth ourtiors, is ho twelfth ! was al^o ' after the )tators on P, was the have been Matilda was bom about the year 1031, and was very careftdly educated. She was possessed of fine natural talents, and was no less celebrated for her leamiig than for her great beauty. William of Malmesbury, when speaking of tliis princess, says, " She was a singular mirror uf prudence in our days, and the perfection of virtue." Among her other acquireme'~'^3, Matilda was particularly famed for her skiU in ornamental needlf^work, which, in that age, was considered one of the most important and desirable accompHshmeuts which princesses and ladies of high rank could possess. t "^e are told by a worthy chronicler,* " that the proficiency of the four sisters of king Athelstane in spinning, weaving, and embroidery, procured those royal spinsters the addresses of the greatest princes in Europe." The fame of this excellent stitchery is, however, all the memorial that remains of the industry of Matilda^s Saxon cousins; but her own great work, the Bayeux tapestry, is still in existence, and is, beyond all competition, the most wonderftd achievement, in the gentle craft of needlework, that ever was executed by fair and royal hands. But of this we shall have to speak more fully, in its proper place, as a pictorial chronicle of the con- quest of England. The eail of Flanders, Matilda's father, was a rich, powerful, and politic prince, equally skilled in the arts of war and of peace. It was to him that the town of Lille, which he rebuilt and greatly beautified, owed its subsequent greatness ; and the home manufactures of his native country, through his judicious encouragement, became a source of wealth and prosperity to Flanders. His family connexion ■with the king of France, his suzerain and ally, and his intimate relationship to most of the royal houses in Europe, rendered his alliance very desir.rble to several of the reigning princes, his neighbom's, who became suitors for the hand of his daughter. Matilda had, however, bestowed her first affections on a yomig Saxon nobleman named Brihtric, and aurnamed, from the faii'ness of his complexion, ' Meaw,' or ' Snaw,' who had visited her x•..i.^ »_ ■. U liUSOlUll ' Kttlmesbury, vol. i. book ii. p. 26. 24 MATILDA OF fLANiJEIlS. f; I Brihtric Meaw was the son of Algar, lord of the honour of Gloucester, and was possessed of so fair a heritage in that fruitful part of England, that he would not have been esteemed an unsuitable consort for the Flemish princess if their love had been reciprocal, but, for some reason, he was insensible to her regard.^ The dark sequel of this tale, which will be related in its proper place, is one of those strange facts which occasionally tinge the page of history with the colours of romance. Whilst Matilda was wasting her morning bloom of life in unrequited love for the youthful envoy, whose affection was probably aire idy pledged to one of his fair countiywomen, the report of her charms and nobio quahties attracted the attention of the most accompHshed sovereign in Christendom. " Duke WiUiam of Normandy,'^ says William of Jimiiege&. "having learned that Baldwin earl of Flanders had a daughter nameu Matilda, very beautiful in person and of a generous disposition, sent deputies, by the advice of his peers, to ask her of her father in marriage, who gladly consented, and gave her a lai'ge portion." Wace, also, teUs us " that Matilda was very fair and graceful, and that her father gave her joyfully to duke William, with large store of wealth and very rich appa- reilement" Seven long years, however, of stormy debate intervened before the courtship of WiUiam of Normandy was brought to this happy conclusion. Contemporary chroniclers, indeed, afford us reason to suspect, that the subsequent con- quest of England proved a less difficult achievement to the valiant duke than the wooing and winning of Matilda of Flanders. He had to contend against the opposition of the courts of France and Burgundy, the intrigues of his rival Idnsmen of the race of Rollo, the objections of the church, and, worse than all, the reluctance and disdain of the lady. The chronicler Ingerius declares, " that William was so infuriated by the scorn with which Matilda treated him, that he waylaid her in the streets of Bruges, as she was returning ■with her ladies from mass, beat her, roUed her in the mud, ' Chronicle of Tewkesbury. Cotton. MSS. Ckorntrn, c. Ill, 220. Lclnnd's Collectanea, vol. i. p. 78. MnnnFticon, 111, 59. Pnlfrrave's Rise and Progress, vol. i. p. 2y4. Thierry'B Aiiglo-AorumnK, vol. i. p. 335. b C( o C( is ti w MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 25 lonour of ! in that esteemed ;heir love nsensible h will be ;ts which romance, of life in ;tion was men, the attention " Duke " having T nameu jposition, ir of her e her a was very yfully to 3h appa- debate ndy was oniclers, ent con- it to the tilda of 1 of the lis rival church, le lady, was so im, that turning le mud, LclnniVs spoiled her rich array, and then rode off at full speed." This Teutonic mode of courtship, according to the above authority, brought the matter to a favourable crisis ; for Matilda, being convinced of the strength of WiUiam^s passion by the violence of his behaviour, or afraid of encountering a second beating, consented to become his wife.* A different version of this strange episode in a royal wooing is given by Baudoin d'Avesnes, who shows that the provoca- tion which duke WilUam had received from his fair cousin was not merely a rejection of his matrimonial overtares, but an insulting allusion to the defect in his birth. According to this writer, the earl of Flanders received the Norman envoys who came to treat for a marriage between their duke and Matilda very courteously, and expressed great satisfaction at the proposed aUiance ; but when he spake of it to the damsel his daughter, she repUed, with infinite disdain, that " she would not have a bastard for her husband." The earl softened the coarse terms in which Matilda had signified her rejection of duke WilUam, and excused her as well as he could to the Norman deputies. Her passion for Brihtric Meaw had, probably, more to do with her rude refusal of William, than the defect in his birth on which she grounded her objection. It was not long, however, before William was informed of what Matilda had really said. He was peculiarly sensitive on the painful subject of his illegiti- macy, and no one had ever taunted him with it impunished. Neither the high rank nor the soft sex of the fair offender availed to protect her from his vengeance. In a transport of fury he mounted his horse, and, attended by only a few of his people, rode privately tv> Lille, where the court of Flanders then was. He alighted at the palace gates, entered the hall of presence alone, passed boldly through it, strode unquestioned through the state apartments of the earl of Flanders, and burst into the coimtess's chamber, where he found the damsel her daughter, whom he seized by her long tresses, and as she, of course, struggled to escape from his ruffian grasp, dragged ' Clironiole of Inprcr, lilicwise caUcd Ingcriug. The anecdote has lx;en trans- ited by J. P. Andrews. fl 26 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. li , her by them about the chamber, struck her repeatedly, and flung her on the ground at his feet. After the perpetration of these outrages, he made his way back to the spot whore his squire held his horse in readiness, sprang to the saddle, and setting spurs to the good steed, distanced all pursuit. Although the Norman, French, and Flemish chroniclers differ as to the place where William the Conqueror perjietrated tliis rude personal assault on his fair cousin, and relate the manner of it with some few variations, they aQ agree as to the fact that he felled her to the ground by the violence of his blows. This incident is quoted by one or the most learned of modern historians, Miclielet, in his History of France, and authenticated by the author of L'Art de Verifier les Dates, from a curious contemporary MS. Vatout also records the circumstance in his History of the Chateau d'Eu; and refers the antiquary for further particulars to an ancient M S. chronicle in the Eccle- siastical library at St. Germains-au-Pres, Paris. When earl Baldwin heard of the unprecedented afii'ont that had been offered to his daughter, he was higlily incensed, made a hostUe attack on duke WilHam's territories to avenge it, did a great deal of damage, and suffered not a iictle ui return, for WiUiam was never slack at retaliation. After a long series of aggi-essive warfare in this improfitable quarrel, they foimd it expedient to enter into pacific negotiation, by the advice of aU their wise and prudent counsellors. A meet- ing took place between the belligerent parties for the ratifica- tion of the treaty, when, to the siu^rise of every one, duke WiUiam renewed his suit for Matilda^s hand; and, to the still greater astonishment of all her friends, when the pro- posal was named to the said damsel, she rephed, that " it pleased her well." Her father, who had not anticipated so favourable an answer, was much delighted at forming a bond of strong family alliance with his formidable neighbour, lost no time in concluding the matrimonial treaty, and gave his daughter, as before said, a large portion in lands and money, with abundance of jewels and rich array. ^ The castle of Augi, — no other, gentle reader, than the chateau d'Eu, so * liaudoin d'Avesnes. Ibid. Vatout'a History of Eu. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 27 much celetDrated in our own times as the family residence of Louis Philippe of Orleans, late king of the French, and his queen, — ^was the place appointed for the solemnization of the marriage of Matilda of Flanders and William of Normandy. This castle was conveniently situated for the purpose, being at the extreme frontier of William's territories. He had recently taken it, after a fierce siege, from a party of his rebellious nobles, headed by Busac, the half-brother of Robert count of Eu; which Busac, being the grandson in the female line of Richard I., duke of Normandy, had set up a rival claim to the duchy in the year 1047. His claims had been supported by Henry king of France, and the disaflfected portion of William's baronage. Robert count of Eu had not taken an active part in the rebeUion, bat had allowed his castle to be made the stronghold of Busac and his confederates.' After the reduction of this fortress by the victorious duke in the year 1049, the count of Eu remained as a sort of state- prisoner in his own castle, which was garrisoned by duke William's soldiers. Such was the position of affairs at chateau d'Eu when the two courts of Normandy and Flanders met there, in the year 1052, for the celebration of the mar- riage between WiUiam and Matilda." The duke arrived first, attended by his valiant quens, to await the advent of the haughty bride, whom he had wooed after so strange a fashion. Matilda came, accompanied by both her parents and a splendid train of nobles and ladies; and there, in the cathedral church of Notre Dame d'Eu, the spousal rites were solemnized, and the marriage blessetl, in the presence of both courts. In the midst of the rejoicings at the nuptial feast, the earl of Flanders, waxing merry, asked his daughter, laughingly, how it happened that she had so easily been brought to con- sent at last to a marriage, which she had so scornfully refused in the first instance. " Because," repHed Matilda, pleasantly, " I did not know the duke so well then as I do now ; for," continued she, " he must be a man of great courage and high • Benoit's Chronicles of Normandy. Vatont's History of Eu. ' The clironicle of Paris places the date of Matilda's marriasre in the vear 1056 ; but all other writers of the period atlirm that this event took place in the year 1050. ■' ! « *. 1:1 28 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. daring who could venture to come and beat me in my own father's palace/'' How the valiant duke ever ventured into her presence again, after such a manifestation of his bold spirit, we are at a loss to imagine ; and that she should like him the better for his ruffianly behaviour appears more unaccountable stiU, aiFording at the same time a curious instance of the rude manners of the pi od and of the inconsistencies of the human heart. The lively answer of the young duchess was of course much applauded by her new lord and his vassal peers. The dis- graced count of Eu, seeing his victorious suzerain in such high good humour, took the opportunity of the general rejoic- ings to sue for pardon ; and that so successfully, that WiUiara restored his lands and castle, and, becoming thoroughly recon- ciled to him, from that day took him into favour, of which he never had the slightest cause to repent ; for, bound to him by gratitude, Robert of Eu became thenceforth one of his most attached adherents, and greatly assisted by his valour and good counsel in the conquest of England.^ The presence of so many illustrious personages, the splendour of the nuptial fetes, and the quantity of money which the influx of the numerous strangers who flocked to Eu to witness this remark- able marriage caused to be circulated in that town, made the inhabitants forget their late suflerings during the siege. The royal mantle, garnished with jewels, in which Matilda was arrayed on the day of her espousals, and also that worn by her mighty lord on the same occasion, together with his helmet, were long preserved in the treasury of the cathedral of Bayeux. Lancelot mentions an inventory of precious efiects belonging to the chm'ch, dated 1476, in which these costly bridal garments are eniunerated. From Eu, William conducted his newly wedded duchess to Rouen, where she made her public entiy as his bride, still accompanied by her parents, who were invited by William to participate in the rejoicings and festivities with which his inamage was commemorated in the capital of his dominions. The earl and countess of Flanders remained with the duke 11 * Euuiloiu d'Avesncs, '^ Vatout'a History of Ch-'itcuu d'Eu. MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 29 in my own 3d into her bold spirit, ce him the ccountable ice of the lies of the urse much The dis- 1 in such iral rejoic- t WiUiam hly recon- of which bound to )ne of his lis valour presence e nuptial c of the remark- nade the e. Matilda lat worn with his athedral precious 3h these chess to de, still lliam to ich his amions. e du_ke and duchess several days, to witness the pageantry and all the popular indications of satisfaction with which Matilda was received.' When all the tourneys and fetes were ended, the earl and coimtess of Flanders took leave of their daughter, and returned to their own country. William consoled Matdda for the loss of their society by taking her on a royal progress through Normandy, to show her the principal towns, and to make her acquainted with the manners and customs of the mighty people over whose court she was to preside. He was, of course, proud of displaying a consort of such sur- passing beauty and majestic grace to his subjects. Every- where she came she was received with demonstrations of delight and admiration. It was more than half a century since there had been a duchess of Normandy ; and as bachelor sovereigns seldom conduce to the domestic happi aess or pros- perity of a nation, all ranks of people werf prepared to welcome Matilda with joy, and to anticipate great political and social advantages from the auspici iua aUiance theii' duke had formed. Nothing could be more perilous than the position of Wil- liam's aflFairs at the period of his marriage with Matilda of Flanders. He was menaced on every side by powerful neigh- bours, who were eager to appropriate and parcel out the fertile fields of Normandy, to the enlargement of their respective borders ; and at the same time a formidable party was array- ing itself against him within his own dominions in favour of Guy of Burgundy, the eldest '^on of his aunt Alice. This piiuce was the nearest legitimate la ib descendant of duke Richard the Second of Normandy; and as the direct line had failed \rith duke Robert, the lato sovereign, he was, notwithstanding the operation of the Sahc law, considered by many to possess a better right to the dukedom than the son of duke Richard by Arlotta, the skinner's daughter of Falaise. The particulars of Wdliam's birth are too well known to require recapitula- tion ; but it is proper to notice that there are historians who maintain that Arlotta was the wife of duke Robert, though not of rank or breedinsr fit to be ncknowledp'ed as his ^ William of Jmnieges. Chronicle of Normandy. BO MATILDA OP FLANDERS. duchess.* This we are disposed to regard as a mere paradox, since William, who would have been only too happy to avail himself of the plea of even a contract or promise of marriage between his parents, in order to strengthen his defective title by a pre- tence of legitimacy, never made any such assertion. On the contrary, not only before his victorious sword had purchased for him a more honourable siuname, but even afterwards, he submitted to the use of the one derived from his mother's shame ; and in the charter of the lands which he bestowed on his son-iu-law, Alan duke of Bretagne, in Yorkshire, he sub- scribed himself "WilUam, sumamed Bastardus."^ It is a general opinion that Arlotta was married to Herlewin of ConteviUe during the lifetime of duke Jtobert, and that this circumstance prevented any possibihty of William attempting to assert that he was the legitimate offspring of his royal sire.' William was, from the very moment of his birth, regarded as a child of the most singular promise. The manful grasp with which his baby hand detained the rushes of which he had * taken seizin^* the moment after his entrance into Ufe, when, in consequence of the danger of his mother, he was permitted to lie unheeded on the floor of his chamber where he first saw the Ught,® gave occasion to the oracular gossips in attendance on Arlotta to predict " that the cliild would become a mighty man, ready to acquire every thing within his reach ; and that which he acquu'ed, he would with a strong hand steadfastly maintain against all chaUengers.^' — " When William was a year old, he was introduced into the presence * William of Malmesbury. Ingulphus. ' Loland. ' After tho acccflsion of Henry IL to the tlirone, a Saxon jitjdigreo waa inge» niously invented for Arlotta, which is too j^reat a curiosity to 1k> oniittcHl. " Edmui.>l Ironside," says tho Saxon gonealojrist, " had two sons, Edwin and Edward, and un only daughter, whose name does not appear in history because of her bad conduct, seeing that she formed a most imprudent alliance with tho king's skinner. The king, in his anger, banished the skinner from England, together with his daughter. They both went to Normandy, where they live«l on pablic charity, and had successively three daughters. Having one day come to Folaist* to l^'g at duke Ilichard's d<»or, the duke, struck with tlie Ijcauty of the woman and her children, asked who she was P ' I am an Englishwoman,' she said, ' and of tho n)yal blood.' Tlie duke, on this answer, treatod her with honour, f^wk the skinner into his service, and htul one of his daughtors brought up in tlie palucu. Hlio WHS Arlotte, or ChaffoUe, the nioihur of the Conquefur." — Inierfy. * The feudal torm for taking possession. * William of Mulmesbury. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 31 of his father, duke Robert, who seeing what a goodly and fair child he was, and how closely he resembled the royal Une of Normandy, embraced him, acknowledged him to be his son, and caused him to receive princely nurture in his own palace. "When William was five years old, a battalion of boys, of hia own age, was placed under his command, with whom he practised the mihtary exercise according to the custom of those days. Over these infant followers William assumed the authority of a sovereign in miniature ; and if dissensions arose among them, they always referred to his decision, and his judgments are said to have been remarkable for their acute- ness and equity.'" Thus early in life did the mighty Norman learn to enact the character of a leader and legislator. Nature had, indeed, eminently fitted him for the lofty station which he was afterwards destined to fJl ; and his powerful talents were strengthened and improved by an education such as few princes iu that rude, unlettered age were so fortunate as to receive. At the age of eight years he was able to read and explain Caesar's Commentaries." The beauty and early promise of this boy caused him to be regarded with peculiar interest by the Normans; but as a child of illegitimate birth, William possessed no legal claim to the succession. His title was simply founded on the appointment of the duke, his father. That prince, having no other issue, before he set out on his mysterious pilgrimage for the Holy Lsmd, called the peers of Normandy together, in the h6tel de Ville, and required them to swear fealty to the young William as his successor. When the princely boy, then a child of seven years old, was brouglit in to receive the homage of the assembled nobles, duke Robert took hini in his arms, and, after kissing and passionately embracing him, he pre- sented him to his valiant ' quens* as their future sove- reign, with this remark, " lie is little, but he will grow."* The peers of Normimdy having consented to recognise Wil- * Henderson's Life of the Conqitcror. ' Acconling to William of Malmesbiiry, the importance which the Conqueror plmunl on mental culture woh j^roat. Throughout life ho wng iM«vt rJuke Robert undertook his pilgrimago to Jerusalem as an expiatory penance for the death of his elder brother and sovereign, duke Richard III., which he was suspected of having hastened ; while others believed he was impelled from motives of piety alone to pay his vows at the holy grave, according to a new but prevailing spirit of miBdirect«d devotion, which manifcHtcd it«clf among the princes and nobles of that age of superstition and romance. Whether duke Robert ever remsbod the place of his destiniition is uncertain. The last authentic tidingw respecting him that reached his capital were brought by Pirou, a returned pilgrim from the Holy Land, who reported that he met Ids lord, the duke of Normandy, on his way t<> the holy city, borne in a litter on tlie shoulders of foiu- stout Saracens, being then t(K) ill to proceed on iiis journey on foot, WHien the royal pilgrim recognised his vassal, he excliumed, with great animation, " Tisll my valiant jxt'rs that you have seen your sovereign inirried towanls heaven on the backs of fiends."-William of Mulmesbury. Whetlier this uncdurt^Hius allusion to the s])iritual darkm^ss of his ])agan lN>arer8 was suf* flciently intelligible to them to have the effect of provoking them into shortening his journey thither, we know not. Some chronicles, indeed, assert that he dio(l at Nicea, in Kitbynia, on his return; but there is a strnugt> tmcertainty connected with his fat^', and it a])]x>ars that the Norman nobles long exj»ecte«l his return, — an expectation that was probably most favourable io the cause of his youthi\il successor, whosi' title niigiit otherwise have hwu more elVcctually di()puti.>d by the I...:., nf *l... -!..* 1 i- -" .l..l._ tJ.l J. «M>uB wi viic aiBVKim uiiu nujiut ui uuivr ivuuiri. * Chronicle of Noimandy, MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 33 cause of their young duke, both in the court and in the canjp. They were his tutors in the art of war, and through their assistance and advice he was enabled to maintain the dignity of a sovereign and mihtary chief, at a period of hfe when princes are generally occupied in childish amusements or the pleasures of the chase.* One by one, almost every Norman noble who could boast any portion of the blood of Rollo, the founder of the ducal line of Normandy, was incited by king Henry of France to stir up an insurrection as a rival claimant of the crown. On one occasion, WiUiam would in all probability have fallen a victim to the plot which his cousin Guy of Burgundy had laid to surprise him, when he was on a himting excursion, and was to pass the night without any of his military retinue at the castle of Valognes ; but from this peril he was preserved by the fidelity of his fool, who, happening to overhear the conspirators arranging their plan, travelled all night at full speed to give the duke notice of his danger; and finding means to make an entrance into the castle at four o'clock in the morning, he struck violently with the handle of his whip at the chamber-door of his sleeping sovereign, and shouted, " Levez, levez, seigneur 1" till he succeeded in rousing him. So close at hand, however, were Guy of Burgundy and his confederates, that it was only by moimting his swiftest steed, half-dressed, and riding with fiery speed for many hours, that William could effect his escape from his pmsuers ; rmd even then he must have fallen into their hands, if he ]*2.d not encountered a gentleman on the road Avith whom he changed horses, his own being thoroughly spent. Guy of Burgundy was afterwards taken prisoner by the young duke *, but having been on afiectionate terms with him in his childhood, he geni'i'oiisly forgave him all the trouble he had occasioned him, and his many attempts against his life.' The king of France was preparing to invade Normroidy again, but William's fortunate marriage with Matilda; who was a legitimate descendant of the royal line, strengthened his defective title to the throne of Norniand)', and gained for him ' Chronicle of Normandy. Mahnt«bury. Wiico. • IbiJ. Mewrai. Waco, VOL. 1. D 34 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. , I . 1 |( ! a powerful ally in the person of his father-in-law, the earl of Flanders. The death of Henry averted the storm that still loured over Normandy ; and the young Philip of France, his son and successor, having been left during his minority under the guardianship of his aunf s husband, Baldwin of Flanders, Matilda's father, William found himself entirely reHeved from all present fears of hostility on the part of France.* Scarcely, however, was he preparing himself to enjoy the happiness of wedded life, when a fresh cause of annoyance arose. Mauger, the archbishop of Rouen, an illegitimate uncle of the young duke, who had taken great pains to prevent his marriage with Matilda of Flanders, finding all the obstacles which he had raised against it were unavailing, proceeded to pronounce sentence of excommunication against the newly wedded pair, imder the plea of its being a marriage within the forbidden degrees of consanguinity.''' WiUiam indignantly appealed to the pope against this sentence, who, on the parties submitting to the usual fines, nuUified the archbishop's eccle- siastical censures, and granted the dispensation for the marriage, on condition of the young duke and duchess each building and endowing an abbey at Caen, and an hospital for the blind. Lanfranc, afterwards the celebrated archbishop of Canterbury, but at that time an obscure individual, to whom William had extended his protection and patronage, was entrusted with this negotiation, which he conducted with such abihty as to seciire to himself the favour and confidence both of Wilham and Matilda, by whom he was, in after years, advanced to the office of tutor to their royal offspring, and finally to the highest ecclesiastical rank and power. William and Matilda submitted to the conditions on which the dispensntion for their marriage had been granted, by founding the sister abbeys of St. Stephen and the Holy Trinity. That of St. Stephen was built and endowed by William for a fraternity of monks, of which he made Lan- franc abbot. Matilda foimded and endowed that of the ' St. Miirtlu'. Wacc. • Chronicle of Normnirly. Mutildu wa« the grand-duughtcr of Eleanor oi Nornwuuly, WiUiun'g aunt. MATILDA OF FLA15DERS. 35 Holy Trinity, for nuns. It should appear that the ground on which these holy edifices were erected was not veiy honestly obtained, as we shall have occasion to show here- after.* WiUiam, highly exasperated at th( archbishop's attempt to separate him from his bride, retaliated upon him by calling a convocation of aU the bishops of Normandy, at Lisieux, before whom he caused Mauger to be accused of several crimes and misdemeanors, especially of selling consecrated chalices, and other articles of church-plate, to supply his luxury.'' Mauger, being convicted of these mal-practices, was deposed from his office. The disgrace of the archbishop has been attributed to the resentment Matilda conceived against him on account of his impertinent attempt to invalidate her marrir^e; and that WiUiam, being roused by her complaints, sought out an occasion to degrade him from his see. TranquiUity being established, WUham proceeded to build a royal palace within the precincts of St. Stephen's abbey, for his own residence and that of his young duchess. The great hall, or council-chamber, of this palace was one of the most magnificent apaitments at that time in Europe. Matilda, inheriting from her father, Baldwin of Lille, a taste for architecture, took great deUght in the progress of these stately buddings ; and her fomidations are among the most splendid relics of Norman grandeur. She was a muni- ficent patroness of the arts, and afforded great encouragement to men of learning, co-operating ^nth her husband most actively in all his paternal plans fo^ the advancement of trade, the extension of commerce, and ti,o general happiness of the people committed to their charge. In this they were most successful. Normandy, so long torn with contending factions, and impoverif'-'d with foreign warfare, began to taste the blessings of repose; and, u If^r the wise government of her Ciiergctic sovereign, soon experienced the go(. effects of his enlightened policy. At his own expense, Wiliiara built the first pier that ever was constructed, at Cherbou - He superintended the building and organization of fleets, traced ' Montfiincon. Malmcsbury. ' WiUinm of Malmeebury, ' Huuduraon's Liib of William tko Conqueror. p2 n El ■ !. Oil Ml ,11 'Tt Hi J ;-'l I* II :i 36 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. out com j:\odious harbours for his ships, and in a comparatively short time rendered Normandy a very considerable maritime power, and fnally the mistress of the Channel. The domestic happiness which lYilliam enjoyed with his beautiful duchess appears to have bceii \evj greti I. AU his- torians irive agreed that they w(;re a ^lost iittaclie ! pair, and tha< , whatever might have been the pie^'icns ?>^ntf: < / ^latilda's affections, they were unalt£;'ably and faithfully fix j:; upon him from the hour she ]iecame ais wir.jj; and with reason, for William wa^s the m.-^t devoted of husbands, and always allowed her to take the jipcendant in the ^ial 'imc lial scale. The confidence he rep« "^ed in hei' was unboi?.;ided, and very shortly after their marriage he intru.«ted tiw reiizs of govern- ment to her nsiciTed the crown of I jcrland to ' Hife-N:,,, A'olyrhronicon. ^tf MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 37 jaratively maritime with his AU his- pair, and ^latUda's upon him iason, for d always lial scale, and very if govem- l to pay a 3sor, By arer tie of , perhaps, mnstance, . received, uring the V honour- md many ins of his exile of d himself of being id also to with that le carried w writers which the ostig, the f Matildr ise of the h decided island to the Normar line. Dming the period of their exile from England, Godwin and his family sought refuge at the court of the earl of Flanders, Tostig's father-in-law, from whom they received friendly and hospitable entertainment, and were treated by the duke and duchess of Normandy with all the marks of friendship that might reasonably be expected, in con- sideration of the family connexion to which we have alluded.' Nine months after her marriage, Matilda gave birth to a son, whom WiUiam named Robert, after his father, thinking that the name of a prince whose memory was dear to Normandy, would ensure the popularity of his heir.* The happiness of the royal pair was greatly increased by this event. They were at that period reckoned the handsomest and most ten- derly united couple in Europe. The fine natural talents of both had been improved by a degree of mental cultivation very unusual in that age ; there was a similarity in their tadtes and pursuits which rendered their companionship dehghtful to each other in private hours, and gave to all their public acts that graceful unanimity which could not fail of producing the happiest effects on the minds of their subjects. The birth of Robert was followed in quick succession by that of Richard, WiUiam-Rufus, CeciUa, Agatha, Constance, Adela, Adelaide, and Gundred. During several years of peace and national prosperity, Matilda and her husband employed them- selves in superintending the education of their lovely and numerous family, several of whom, according to the report of c'outemporary chronicles, were children of great promise.^ No very remarkable event occurs in the records of Matilda's court, till the arrival of Harold in the year 1065. Harold, having undertaken a voyage to Normandy in an open fishing- boat, was driven by stress of weather into the river Maye, in the t ;rritories of the earl of Ponthieu, by whom, with the intention of extorting a large ransom, he was seized, and immiA.id in the dungeons of Beaurain. The duke of Nor- mandy, howevci, demanded the illnstrious captive, and the earl of Ponthieu, understandrng Ihat Harold's brother was 1 •ar„/.« » t .«w. T~ 1.,!,— ■n. J • Ma! nesbury. Ordericus YitaliH. • 11C_1 1 t«T_ -_ ' xnuuut»uurjr» VYMOOa 38 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. I »'• husband to the duchess of Normandy's sister, thought it most prudent to resign his prey to the famUy connexion by whom it was claimed. Harold was treated with apparent friendship by WUham and Matilda. They even offered to bestow one of their daughters upon him in marriage, — a young lady whose age did not exceed seven years ; and to her Harold permitted himself to be affianced, though without any inten- tion of keeping his plight. WiUiam then confided to his reluctant guest the tale of his own adoption by Edward the Confessor, for his successor, and proceeded to extort from him a solemn oath to render him all the assistance in his power, in furtherance of his designs on the crown of England.* Harold, on his return to England, came to an open rupture with his brother Tostig. Probably he had, during his late visit to NormiJidy, discovered how entirely the latter was in the interest of his Flemish wife's connexions. Tostig then fled, with his wife and children, to the court of his father-'n-law, the earl of Flanders, and devoted himself entirely to the cause of WiUiam of Normandy. At this perilous crisis, when so dark a storm was slowly but surely gathering over England, a woful deterioration had taken place in the national character of the people, especially among the higher classes, who had given way to every species of luxury and licentious folly. WiUiam of Malmesbiuy draws the following quaint picture of their manners and proceedings at this period. "Englishmen," f^uja he, "had then trans- formed themselves into the strange manners of the French, not only in their speech and behaviour, but in their deeds and characters. Their fashion in dress was to go fantastically appointed, with garments shortened to the knee. Their heads shorn, and their beards shaven all but the upper Up, on which tt.ej wore long moustaches. Their arms they loaded with massive bracelets of gold, canying withal pictured marks upon their skins, pounced in with divers coIoiutsj" by which it is evident that the Anglo-Saxons had adopted the barbarous practice of tattooing their persons, Uke the rude aborigines of the island eleven centuries previous. " They were," continues * Wace. Malme>bury. I^iierry. :sa< MATILDA OF FLANDEKS. 39 i our author, " accustomed to eat to repletion, and to drink to excess ; while the clergy wholly addicted themselves to hght and trivial Hterature, and could scarcely read their own breviaries/' In a word, they had, according to the witness of their own chronicles, arrived at that pass of sensuality and foUy, which is generally supposed to provoke a national visi- tation in the shape of pestilence or the sword. " The Normans of that period," says Malmesbiry, " were proudly apparelled, delicate in their food, but not gluttonous ; a race inured to war, which they could scarcely live without ; fierce in rushiag upon the foe, and, when unequal in force, ready to use strptagem or bribery to gain their ends. They live in large houses with economy; they wish to rival their superiors ; they envy their equals, and plunder their inferiors, but not unfrequently intermarry with their vassals." Such were the general characteristics of the men whom WiUiam had rendered veterans in the art of war, and, both by precept and example, stimulated to habits of fiiigality, temperance, and self-control. A mighty sovereign and a mighty people, possessing within themselves the elements of every requisite that might ensure the success of an und. ;'taking, which, by every other nation in Europe, must have been considered as little short of madness. When the inteUigence of king Edward's death, coupled with the news of Harold's assumption of the regal dignity, reached the court of Normandy, WiUiam was struck speechless with indignation and surprise, and is said to have unconsciously tied and untied the rich cordon that fastened his cloak several times, in the first tiunults of his agitation and anger.^ He then gave vent to his wrath, in fierce m^imadversions on Harold's broken faith in causing himself to ^ ^ clowned king of England, in defiance of the solemn oath he had sworn to him to support his claims. WiUiam also complained of the al&ont that had been offered to his daughter by the faithless Saxon, who, regardless of his contract to the Httle Norman princess, just before king Edward's death strengthened his interest with the English nobles by marrying Edith or Algitha, sister to the ' Wace. -A m MATILDA OF FLANDERS. powerful earls Morcar and Edwin, and widow to Griffith, prince of Wales. This circumstance is mentioned with great bitterness in all WiUiam's proclamations and reproachful mes- sages to Harold, and appears to have been considered by him to ^^" ' ti <^'^ great a villany as the assumption of the crown of Ju!jri"'j Jc When William first made known to his Norman peers his positive intention of asserting, by force of arms, his claims to the crown of England, on the plea of Edward the Confessor's verbal adoption of hi^^'^'elf as successor to that realm, there were stormy deoates among iLem on the subject. They were then assembled in the hall of Lillebon, where they remained long in council, but chiefly employed in complaining to one another of the warlike temper of their lord. There were, however, great differences of opinion among them, and they separated themselves into several distinct groups, bc'^ause many chose to speak at once, and no one could obtain the attci tion of the whole assembly, but harangued as many hearers as could be prevailed on to listen to nim. The majority were opposed to the idea of the expedition > England; t^^^v said, " they had already been grievously taxed to support the 'uke's foreign wars," and that " they were not only poor, l r in debt ;" while others were no less vehement in advocating f] ir sovereign's project, and spake " of the propriety of contii- buting ships 'Hd men, and crossing the sea with him." Some said " they would " others, "that they would not;" and at laH the contentic among; them became so fierce, that Fitz- Osbom, of Breteuil, sumamed the Proud Spirit, stood forth aad L .rangued the malcontent portion of the assembly in thest- words : — " ^ Tiy should you go on wrangling with your natural lord, who ^eeks to gaiji honour? You owe him service for v lu* uefs, and you ought to render it with all readiness, t •^ear' of waiting for hira to entreat you, you ought to L?^ten t. him and offer your assistance, that he may not hereafter complain that his design has failed through your delays." — " Sir," repUed they, " we fear the sea, and we are not bound to serve beyond it. But do you speak to the duke for us, lor we do not seem to Imovy our own I MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 41 UUI' UYVU minds, and we t^ k you will decide better for us than we can do for oiirseh es/' ' Fitz-Osbom, thus empowered to act as their deputy, went to the duke at their head, and in their names made him the most unconditional proffers of their assistance and co-operation. " Behold," said Fitz-Osbom, " the loving loyalty of your heges, my lord, and their zeal for your service. They will pass with you over sea, and double their accustomed service. He who is bound to furnish twenty knights, will bring forty; he who should sen^e you with thirty, will now serve you with sixty ; and he who owes one hundred, wiU cheerfully pay two hundred.^ For myself, I wiU, in good love to my sovereign in his need, contribute sixty weU-appointed ships charged with fighting men." Here the dissentient barons interrupted him with a cla our of disapprobation, exclaiming, " That he might give as much as he pleased himself, but they had never empowered him to promise such unheard-of aids for them ;"^ and they would submit to no such exactions from their sovereign, since if they once performed double service, it would henceforth be dema^" ded of them as a right. " In short," continues the hvely chronicler, " they raised such an uproar, that no one could hear another speak, — no one could either listen to reason, or render it for himself. Then the duke, being greatly perplexed with the noise, with- drew, and sending for the barons one by one, exerted all his powers of persuasion to induce them to accede to his wishes, promising ' to reward them richly with Saxon spoils for the assistance he now required at their hands ; and if they felt disposed to make good Fitz-Osboru s offer of double service at that time, he should receive it as a proof of their loyal affection, and never think of demanding it as a right on any future occasion/ " The nobles, on this concihatory address, were ] acified ; and feeling that it was a much easier thing to maintain their opposition to their sovereign's wishes in the council than in the presence-chamber, began to assume a different tone, and even expressed their wiUingness to obhge him as far as it lay in their power. 1 Wace. ' Waco's Cbroniclo of Normandy. ' Ibid. 42 MATILDA OF FLANDEi,!S. I. . William next invited his neighboM ', tLe Bretons, the Angevins, and men of Boulogne, to join his banners, bribing them \nth promises of good pay, and a share in the spoils of merrie England. He even proposed to take the king of Fi-ance into the alliance, offering, if he would assist him with the quota of money, men, and ships which he required, to own him for the suzerain or paramount lord of England, as well as Normandy, and to render him a liegeman's homage for that island as well as for his continental dominions. Philip treated the idea of William's annexing England to Normandy as an extravagant chimera,' and asked him, " Who would take care of his duchy while he was running after a kingdom ?" To this sarcastic query, William repUed, " That is a care that shall not need to trouble our neighbours ; by the grace of God we are blessed with a prudent wife and loving subjects, who will keep our border seciu^ly during our absence.'" William entreated the young count Btddwin of Flanders, the brother of his duchess, to accompany him as a friendly ally ; but the wily Fleming, with whom the family connexion seems to have had but little weight, replied by asking William " What share of England he intended to bestow on him by way of recompence ?"' The duke, surprised at this demand, told his brother-in-law, " That he could not satisfy him on that point till he had consulted with his barons on the subject;" but instead of naming the matter to them, he took a piece of fair parchment, and having folded it in the form of a letter, he superscribed it to count Baldwin of Flanders, sealed it with the ducal seal, and wrote the following distich on the label that surrounded the scroll : — " Beau frere, en Angleterre voa« aurez - Ce qui dedans escript vous trouverez/** which is to say, " Brother-in-law, I give you such a share of England as you shall find within this letter." He sent the letter to the young count by a shrewd-witted page, who was much in his confidence. When Baldwin had read this promising endorsement, he broke the seal, fuU of * Wace's Clironicle of Nonnandy. ' Ibid. ' Wace. * Henderson. Wace. MATILDA CI FLANDERS. 43 ins, the bribing jpoils of king of im with lired, to land, as homage oainions. ;land to , "Who after a , "That rnrs; by vife and ring our ilanders, friendly )nnexion William him by demand, him on lubject;" piece of a letter, 1 it with he label share of d-witted win had 1, fuU of I. Wace. expectation; but finding the parchment blank, he showed it to the bearer, and asked what was the duke's meaning? " Nought is written here," repHed the messenger, " and nought shalt thou receive ; therefore look for nothing. The honour that the duke seeks will be for the advantage of your sister and her children, and their greatness will be the advancement of yourself, and the benefit wiU be felt by your country j but if you refuse your aid, then, with the blessing of Grod, my lord will conquer England without your help."' But though WiUiam ventured, by means of this sarcastic device, to reprove the selfish feelings manifested by his brother-in-law, he was fi»in to subscribe to the only terms on which the aid of Matilda's father could be obtained ; which was, by securing to him and his successors a perpetual pen- sion of 300 marks of silver annually, in the event of his succeeding in establishing himself as king of England.' According to the Flemish historians, this pension was actually paid during the life of Baldwin V. and his son Baldwin VI., but afterwards discontinued. It is certain that Matilda's family connexions rendered the most important assistance to WiUiam in the conquest of England, and her comitrymen were among his bravest auxiliaries.' The earl of Flanders was, in fact, the first person to commence hostilities against Harold, by furnishing the traitor Tostig with ships and a mihtary force to make a descent on England. Tostig executed his mission more like a pirate-brigand than an accredited leader. The brave earls Morcar and Edwin drove him into Scotland, whence he passed into Norway, where he succeeded in persuading king Harfager to invade England at one point, simultaneously with WiUiam of Normandy's attack in another quarter of the island.* The minds of the people of England in general were, at * Wace. ' Wa. GemetecensiB, p. 665, and Daniel's Histoire de France, vol. ill. p. 90. Baldwin earl of Flanders f\imished Tostig with sixty ships. — Malmesbury. — Saxon Annals. ^ Tradition makes the famons Robin Hood a descendant of Matilda's nephew, Gilbert de Gant, who attended the Conqueror to England. — Hist, of Sleaford by Dr. Yerborongh. * Brompton. Saxon Annals. 44 MATILDA OF FLANDEliS. ' II Is. this momentous crisis, labouring under a superstitious depres- sion, occasioned by the appearance of the splendid three-tailed comet, which became visible in their horizon at the com- mencement of the memorable year 1066, a few days before the death of king Edward. The astrologers who foretold the approach of this comet had thought proper to announce that it was ominous of a great national calamity in an oracular Latin distich, of which the following rude couplet is a literal translation : — f* In the year one thousand and sixty-six, Comets to England's sons an end shall iix." ^ " About this time," says Malmesbury, " a comet or star, denoting, as they say, a change in kingdoms, appeared traiUng its extended and- fiery train along the sky ; wherefore a cer- tain monk of our monastery named Elmer, bowing down with terror when the bright star first became visible to his eye, prophetically exclaimed, ' Thou art come I a matter of great lamentation to many a mother art thou come ! I have seen thee long before ; but now I behold thee in thy terrors, threatening destruction to this country/ " Wace, whom we may almost regard in the light of a contemporary chronicler, in still quainter language describes the appearance of this comet, and the impression it made on the unphUosophical star-gazers of the eleventh century. " This year a great star appeared in the heavens, shining for fourteen days, with three long rays streaming towards the south. Such a star as is wont to be seen when a kingdom is about to change its niler. I have seen men who saw it, — men who were of fiiU age at the time of its appearance, and who lived many years aftenvards." The descriptions which I have just q\ioted from the pen of the Norman poet and the monastic chronicler, fall fur short of the marvellousness of Matilda's delineation of this comet in the Baycux tapestry, where the rciyal needle has represented \i of dimensions that might well have justified the alarm of the terror-stricken group of Saxon princes, pnests, vnd ladies, who appear to be rushing out of their pigmy dwellings, and * Hondc '1. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 45 depres- e-tailed e corn- before ;old the ice that )racular a literal or star, trailing e a cer^ wn with his eye, of great [ive seen terrors, rhom we ronicler, of this )Sophical a great a days. Such a I change were of ;d many c pen of 'ar short ■omct in resented ill ami of I ladies. Iiigs, and I pointing to it with unequivocal signs of hon*or ; for, indepen- dently of the fact that it looks near enough to singe all their noses, it would inevitably have whisked the world and all its sister planets out of their orbits, if it had bef>n of a hundredth part proportionable to the magnitude there portrayed.' Some allowance, however, ought to be made for the exaggeration of feminine reminiscences of an object, which we can scarcely suppose to have been transferred to the embroidered chronicle of the conquest of England tdl after the triumphant termina- tion of William of Normandy's enterprise afforded his queen- duchess so magnificent a subject for the employment of the skill and iugenuity of herself and the ladies of her court, in recording his achievements on canvas by duit of needlework. But, on the eve of this adventurous expedition, we may natu- rally conclude that Matilda's time and thoughts were more importantly occupied than in the labours of the loom, or the fabrication of worsted pictures ; when, in addition to all her fears and anxieties in parting with her lord, we doubt not but she had, at least, as much trouble in reconciling the Norman ladies to the absence of their husbands and lovers," as the duke had to pre\ail on these his valiant quens to accompany him on an expedition so full of peril to all parties concerned in it. Previously to his departure to join his ships and forces assembled at the port of St. Vallery, William solcmidy invested Matilda with the regency of Nonnandy, and entreated, " that lie and his companions in anns might have the benefit of her prayers, and the prayers of her ladies, for the success of their expedition." He appointed for her council some of tlie v^isest and most experienced men among the j)rolates and elder nobles of Normandy." The most celebrated of tliese, for coursige, ability, and wisdom, was Roger de Beaumont, and by him William recommended the duchess to be advised in all matters of domestic policy. He also associated with the duchess in the regency their (eldest son, Robert ; and this youth, who had just completed his thirteenth year, wjus iioininally the Tmlifo»»ir #ii»i«f' {\? N c!r.ei 01 iNormandy during the nl sence of his sire. * Iliiyoux ti4K>Htry. * Waco. • William of I'uitou. Wuce. Miilnu'sbnry. 46 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. i.ih. ■ I The invasion of England was by no means a popular measure vnth any class of William's subjects ; and during the time that his armament remained wind-bound at St. Vallery, the common soldiers began to murmur in their tents. " The man must be mad/' they said, " to persist in going to subjugate a foreign country, since God, who withheld the wind, opposed him ; that his father, who was sumamed Robert le Diable, purposed something of the kind, and was in like manner frustrated ; and that it was the fate of that family to aspire to things beyond them, and to find God their adversary.''^ Wlien the duke heard of these disheartening reports, he called a council of his chiefs, at which it was agreed that the body of St. Vallery should be brought forth, to receive the offerings and vows of those who siiould feel disposed to implore liis intercession for a favourable wind.^ Thus artfully did he, instead of interposing the authority of a sovereign and a mihtary leader to punish the language of sedition and mutiny among his troops, oppose superstition to superstition, to amuse the short-sighted instruments of his ambition. The bones of the patron saint of the port were accordingly bronj^ht forth, with great solemnity, and exposed in their shrine on the green turf beneath the canopy of heaven, for the double purpose of receiving the prayers of the pious and the contributions of the charitable.^ The Nonnan chroniclers affirm that the shrine was half bimed in the heaps of gold, silver, and precious things which were showered upon it by the crowds of votanes who came to })ay their respects to the saints. Thus were the midcontents amused tiU tlie wind changed. In the mean time William was agreeably surprised by the arrival of his duchess at the porl in a splendid vessel of war, called the Mora/ which she had caused to be built unknown to him, and adorned in the most royal style of magnificence, for his acceptance. The effigy of their youngest son (VV^illiam), fcMTued of gilded bronze, some writers say of gold, was placed at the prow of this vessel, with his face turned towards l*^iigland, holding a tnmiiM't to his lips with one hand, Jiiid bearing in the other a bow, with the arrow aimed at England, It seemed ' MHlmonK'ny. Wnoo. ' I1>i(L ' Ibid. * Wiice, MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 47 popular during at St. ir tents, ^oiiig to lie wind, obert le manner to aspire 3rsary."* lie called the body offerings plore his did he, a and a d mutiny to amuse nes of the )rth, with ^reen turf urpose of mh of the he shrine )us tilings ;ane8 who were the ed l)y the el of war, unknown Tiiificence, (WilUam), H pln''otl at luighind, bearing in It seemed as if the wind had only delayed in order to enable Matilda to offer tliis gratifying and auspicious gift to her departing lord ; for scarcely had the acclamations with which it was greeted by the admiring host died away, when the long-desired breeze sprang up, " and a joyful clamour," says Malmesbury, " then arising, summoned every one to the ships." The duke himself, first launching from the continent into the deep, led the way in the Mora, which by day was distinguished by a blood-red flag,* and, as soon as it was dark, carried a hght at the mast- head, as a beacon to guide the other ships. The first night, the royal leader so far outsailed his followers, that when morn- ing dawned the Mora was in the mid-seas alone, without a single sail of her convoy in sight, though these were a thousand in number. Somewhat disturbed at this circumstance, WiUiam ordered the master of the Mora to go to the topmast and look out, and bring him word what he had seen. The reply was, " Nothing but sea and sky." — " Go up again," eaid the duke, " and look out." The man cried out, " That he saw four specks in the distance, like the sails of ships." — " Look once again," cried William: then the master exclaimed, " I see a forest of tall masts and a press of sails l)earing gallantly towards us."^ Rough weather occurred during the voyage, but it is re- markable that, out of so numerous a fleet, only two vessels were lost. In one of these was a noted astrologer, who had taken upon liimself to predict that the expedition would be entirely successful, for that Harold would resign England to the duke without a battle. William neither beUeved in omens nor encouraged f;)rtune-tclling, and when he lieard the catastrophe of the , unfortunate soothsayer who had thought proper to join himself to the armament, shrewdly observed, " Little coidd he have kiioAvn of the fate of others, who could not foresee his own."* On the 2Hth of September, lOOfi, the Nomnan fleet made the port of Povenscy, on the coast of Sussex. Wace's chronicle of tlie Norman conquest aftbrds a graphic picture of the dis- ' Tliiorry's Anglo-Nornians. * Tliicrry's An(?lo-N(>nnnn». • W*co lIotKlcmon. !lJIIJ^lji.-JS!ja » ; 48 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. II em'barkation of the du te and his armament. The knights and archers landed first.' After the soldiers, came the car- penters, armourers, and m&jons, with their tools in their hands, planes, saws, axes, and other implements slung to their sides. Last of all came the duke, who, stumbling as he leaped to shore, measm-ed his majestic height upon the beach. Forthwith all raised a cry of distress. " An evil sign is here !" exclaimed the superstitious Normans; but the duke, who in recovering himself had filled his hands with sand, cried out in a loud and cheerful voice, " See ! seigneurs ; by the splendour of God I have seized England with my two hands.^ Without challenge no prize can be made, and that which I have grasped I will, by your good help, maintain." On this, one of his followers ran forward, and snatching a handful of thatch from the roof of a hut, brought it to the duke, exclaiming merrily, " Sire, come forwai'd, and receive seizin.^ I give you seizin, in token that this realm is yom^s," " I accept it," replied the duke, "and may God be with us!"^ They then sat down and dined together on the beach; after- wards, they sought for a spot whereon to rear a wooden fort, which they had brought in disjointed pieces m their sliips from Normandy. Matilda has, in a curious section of the Bayeux tapestry, shown us the manner in which the trusty followers of her ' Tlicre is a tradition in tlie north of England, that the forpmost man of this coiiipaiiy to toueli tlie land of yromiso was tlic aiu'cstor of tlio tSti'icklands of SiziTgh-rastle, in Wcstinoroiand, wlio derive tlieir name and arms from this ciroumstaneo. 'JTiey sliow the sword in the ancient han(ju('tinp-r(x>m in tlie D'Eyncourt tower of Sizergh -castle, with which it is assorted hy that venerahle goMoip, tradition, tlsat the redouhted chief first struck the land at Pevensey. The wea])(>n, which appears formed for a giant's grasp, is not, liowever, wo imagine, of ciirlicr date than the days of Edward 111., and greatly resemhles the sword ol slat* :.ierp of thatch mMii tlu- nx-.f of a tenement, were all the conveyance rHquirtid to give the ptirchantit' a legal title of possession. * Wuce, si< MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 49 knights he car- [1 their ung to )ling as ion the A.n evil but the th sand, ; by the » hands.^ which I itching a t to the 1 receive s yoOTS." ith us!"^ :h; after- pdcn fort, Lcir ships tapestry, rs of her , man of this Itrifkliinds of 18 from this rcxnn iti the lilt venerahle >vi'n8(7. The , wo imapino, the Rwonl ol alihoy. It 18 idtomlod the umuler of his the English •emony is still f from u tifltl, le convt-yanco lord carried the disjointed frame-work of this timber fortress to the shore. The soldiers assisted the carpenters and other craftsmen in this arduous undertaking, and the duke encou- raged and stimulated them in this union of labom' to such good purpose, that before even-fall they had finished their building, fortified it, and supped merrily therein. Here the duke tarried four days. William had, through the agency of Matilda^s brother-in-law, Tostig, arranged measures with Harfager, king of Norway, that their attacks upon England should be simultaneous; but the contrary winds which had detained his fleets so long at St. Vallery, had speeded the sails of his northern ally, so that Harfager and Tostig entered the Tyne with three hundred ships, and commenced their work of rapine and devastation a fuU fortnight before the arrival of the Norman armament. Harold was thus at liberty to direct his whole strength against his fraternal foe and Harfager. The intelUgence that both Tostig and Harfager were defeated and slain at Stanford-bridge reached WiUiam four days after his landing at Pevensey,^ while he lay entrenched in his wooden citadel, waiting for a communication from his con- federates before he ven^ Jired to advance farther up thpt country. On receiving this unfavoiu-able news, WiUiam manifested no consternation or surprise, but turning to his nobles, said, " You see the astrologer's prediction wjis false. We cannot win the land v/ithout r. battle ; and here I vow, that if it shall please God to give me the victory, that, on whatever spot it shall befall, I will there build a chiuch to be consecrated to the blessed Trinity, and to St. Martin, where perpetual pniyers shall be offered for the sins of Edward the Confessor, for my own sins, the sins of Matilda my spouse, and the sms of such as have attended me in this expedition, but more particularly for the sins of such as may fall in the battle."* This vow greatly reassured his followers, and appears to have been con- sidered by tho valiant Normans a? a very comfortable arionge- ment. Hard work, however, it must have piepared for the priests, who had to sing and pray away the sins of idl the * Saxon Antiiils. VOL. I. Malnicslniry. R. Dunchn. Henry Huntingdon. Wnoe. « Wacc. nl^ 50 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. '!■■ ♦' i il .! .! i parties specified, if we take into consideration who and what manner of people they were. Harold, meantime, was far beyond the Humber, and in high spirits at the signal victory he had obtained at Stanford- bridge, and the delusive idea that the duke of Normandy had delayed his threatened invasion till the spring,' as the father of Matilda had deceitfully informed him. But the intelligence of the arrival of these unwelcome guests was too soon con- veyed to him by a knight from the neighbourhood of Pevensey, who had heard the outcry of the peasants on the coast of Sussex when they saw the great fleet arrive; and being aware of the project of the Norman duke, had posted himself behind a hill, where, unseen himself, he had watched the disembarka- tion of this mighty host and their proceedings on the shore till they had built up and entrenched their wooden fortress, which, being done with such inconceivable rapidity, appeared to him hke the work of enchantment. Sorelv troubled at what he had seen, the knight girded on his sword, and taking lance in hand, mounted his fleetest steed, and tarried not by the way, either for rest or refreshment, till he had found Harold, to whom, he commimicated his alarming tidings in these words : " The Normans have come. They have landed at Hastings, and built up a fort, which they have enclosed with a foss and paUsades; and they will rend the land from thee and thine, unless thou defend it well."^ In the forlorn hope of ridding himself of his formidable invader, Harold offered to purchase the departure of the Nor- man duke, teUing him " that if silver or gold were his object, he, who had enriched himself with the spoils of the defeated king of Norway, would give him enough to satisfy both himself and his followers." — " Tlumks for Harold's fair words," replied William ; " but I did not bring so many ecus into this country to change them for his esterlins? My purpose in coming is to claim this realm, which is mine according to the gift of king Edward, which was confirmed by Hju-old's oath." — * Speed. » Wace. • Ibid. A play on words, meaning crotont and shiuings; ecu iiioaiung a sliicld, Oi well m the cuiu cuUud a crowu. fod Go im I what ind in tnford- cly had father ligence m con- vensey, joast of y aware behind nbarka- le shore fortress, ippeared iibled at d taking L not by |d found dings in landed enclosed nd from irmidable he Nor- is object, defeated himself " rephed s comitry oming is le gift of oath."— l.!„1.1 tl MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 51 " Nay, but you ask too much of us, sire," returned the mes- senger, by whom the pacific oflfer had been made; " my lord is not so pressed that he should resign his kingdom at your desire. Harold will give you nothing but what you can take from him, imless in a friendly way, as a condition for your departure, which he is willing to purchase with large store of sih ^r and gold and fine garments; but if you accept not his ofifer, know that he is ready to give you battle on Saturday next, if you be in the field on that day."' The duke accepted this challenge; and on the Friday evening preceding that fatal day for the Saxon cause, Harold planted his gonfanon on the very spot where Battle-abbey now stands. The Normans and Enghsh being equally apprehensive of attack during the season of darkness, kept watch and ward that night, but employed their vigils in a very different manner. The Enghsh, according to the report of contemporary chroniclers, kept up their spirits with a riotous carouse, crying " Wassail !" and " Drink heal !"^ dancing, laughing, and gambling aU night. The Normans, on the contrary, being in a devout frame of mind, made confessions of their sins, and employed the precious moments in recommending themselves to the care of God. The battle joined on tho 14th of October, Harold's birthday, on a spot about seven miles from Hastings, called Heathfield, where the town of Battle now stands. When WiUiam was arming for the encounter, in his haste and agitation he un- wittingly put on his hauberk the hind part before.'^ He quickly changed it ; but perceiving, from the looks of con- sternation among the by-standers that his mistake had been noticed, and construed into an omen of iU, he smilingly observed, " I have seen many a man who, if such a thing had happened to him, would not have entered the battle-field; but I never believed in omens, nor have I ever put my faith in fortime-tellers or divinations of any kind, for my trust is in God. Ijet not chis mischance discourage you, for if this change import aught, it is that tlie power of my dukedom shall be ' Malmosbary. ^latthew of Westminster. Wace. • Mi^aning, " VVish iifiiith," and " Drink health." ' Aluhnesbury. Wacc. William of I'oitou. £ 2 53 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. Rj IflE >! turned into a kingdom, — yea, a king shall I be, who have hitherto been but a duke."* Then the duke called for the good steed which had been presented to him as a token of fiiendship by the king of Spain. Matilda has done justice to this noble charger in her Bayeux tapestry. It is represented as caparisoned for the battle, and led by Gualtier Giffart, the duke^s squire. There is in the same group the figure of a knight armed cap-k-pie, in the close fitting ring-armour and nasal conical helmet worn by the Norman chivalry of that era, with a gonfanon attached to his lance something after the fashion of the streamer which forms part of the paraphernalia of the modem lancer, with this difference only, that the gonfanon of the ancient knight was adorned with his device or armorial bearing, and served the purpose of a banner or general rallying point for his followers. The knightly figure in the Bayeux tapestry which I have just described, is generally beUeved to have been designed for the veritable effigies of the redoubtable conqueror of this realm, or at any rate as correct a resemblance of him as his loving spouse Matilda could produce in cross-stitch. He is dehneated in the act of extending his hand to greet his fiivourite steed. ''The duke," says Wace, "took the reins,, put foot in stirrup, and mounted; and the good horse pawed, pranced, reared himself up, and curvetted." The viscount of Toazay, who stood by, thus expressed to those around him his admira- tion of the duke's fine appearance and noble horsemanship:^ " Never," said he, " have I seen a man so fairly armed, nor one who rode so gallantly, and became his hauberk so well, or bore his lance so gracefully. There is no other such knight under heaven ! A fair count he is, and a fair king he will be. Let him fight, and he will overcome j and shame be to him who shall fail him !"^ The NoiTuans were drawn up in three bodies. Montgomery and Fitz-Osborn led the first, Geoffrey Martcl led the second, and the duke himself headed the third, which was composed of the flower of Normandy, and kept in resen e till the proper moment tor its effective advance should be ascertained by its * Wace. ^ Ibid. ^ Wace. Chronicle of the Dukes of Normaiuly. have for the )ken of in her for the There ip-k-pie, let worn attached 3r which 3er, with t knight d served ; for his y which I designed 3r of this his loving lehneated te steed. t foot in pranced, f Toazay, LS admira- manship:^ mied, nor so well, or ch knight [isr he will ame be to ontgomery he second, composed tlie proper ned by its Normaiuly. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 53 skilful and puissant leader. Taillefer, the warrior minstrel of Normandy, rode gallantly at the head of the chivalry of his native land, sr^^mg the war-song of EoUo.^ WiUiam had that ('•^y three horses kUled under him, without losing a drop of his. csvn blood; finding, however, that Harold had succeeded in rallying a strong body of men around him on one of the heights, with the evident intention of keeping possession of that vantage ground tiU the approaching night should favour the Saxons' retreat, he made his last desperate charge upon the people of the land. In this attack it is supposed that Harold was slain by a random arrow, which was shot through the left eye into his brain. The victorious duke pitched his tent that night in the field of the dead, which, in memory of the dreadful slaughter that had dyed the earth to crimson, wafs ever after called by him the vale of Sanguelac.^ This fiercely contested battle cost WdHam the hves of six thousand of his bravest followers; but Malraesbury, and other accredited historians of that time, rate the loss of the Saxons at threescore thousand men.' 77hen the duchess-regent of Normandy, Matilda, received the joyful tidings of the victory which her lord had obtained at Hastings, she was engaged in her devotions in the chapel of the Bene- Hcnry of Huntingdon. Speed. * Malmesbury. Ma(,thj\H of Westminster. Rapin. Chron. de Bello \ »1. Gemet. '■^ Saxon Annals. Speed. Ordericus says it was called so long before this brittle. ' The following day was devoted by the Norman conquerors to the interment of their dead; and William gave leave and licence to the Saxon peasants to perform the like charitable office to the remains of their unfortunate countrymen. Search was made for the body of Harold, but at first in vain. The spoilers had stripped and gashed the victuns of the fight, so that it was difficult to distinguish between the mortal rcmainr of the leader and the serf. Githa, the mother oi Harold, had been herself ; lable to identify the bo seutence, haeold infbux. — Thierry. Chronicle of Walthnm. Malnr.os , -^ 54 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. Wlv dictine priory of N6tre Dame, in the fields near the suburbs of Z' . Sever; and after returning her thanksgivings to the God of battles for the success of ^ler consort^s arms, she ordered that the priory should hfiioci'orth be called, in me- mory of that circuimstance, Ndtre Dame de Bonnes Nouvelles. And by that name it is distinguished to this day.^ The coronation of the mighty forefather of our present line of sovereigns took place at Westminster, on Monday the 25th of December, being Christmas-day, called by our Saxon ancestors, Midwinter-day, Splendid preparations were made in the sister cities of London and Westminster for the celebration of the twofold festival of the Nativity of our Lord and the inaugurar- tion of the new sovereign. On the afternoon of Christmas- eve, William of Normandy entered the city on horseback with his victorious followers. He took up his lodgings that night at the palace in Blackfriars, where Bridewell now stands. Early in the morning he went by water to London-bridge, where he landed and proceeded to a house near London- atone ; after reposing awhile, he set forth with a stately caval- cade gallantly mounted, and rode to Westminster amidst the Si oats of a prodigious multitude, who were reconciled by the excitement of the pageant to the idea of receiving for their sovereign a man, whom nature had so admirably quaHfied to set off the trappings of royalty.^ Next to his person rode thb nobihty of England, and those of Normandy followed. In consequence of the dispute between Stigand, archbishop of Canterbury, and the pope, Wilham chose to be crowned and consecrated by the hand of Aldred, archbishop of York,' to avoid the possibility of the ceremony being questioned at any future time. He took not the crown, however, as a right of conquest, but by consent of the people ; for the archbishop, before he placed the royal circlet on his head, paused, and turning to the Enghsh nobles, asked them "if they were * Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. ' Ingulphus. Ordericus Vitalis. ' "Tlien, on Midwinter-day, archbishop Aldred hallowed him to king at Westminster, and gave him possession with the books of Christ; and also swore him, ere that he would set the erown i-pon his head, that he would so well govern this nation as any king before hun best did, if they would be faithful to him." — Sazon Chronicle. i'-^ ^f MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 55 I 1 amongst the Saxc ° his Norman follov rage set fire to the acl wining to have the duke of Normandy for their king?" to which they rephed with such continuous acclamations of assent, that the vehemence of their loyalty, more noisy than sincere, had nearly been productive of the most fatal consequences. Wilham had surrounded the al^bey and guarded its approaches with a large body of > )rman soldiers, as a prudential mea- sure, in case any attempt ipon his life should be made by his new vassals; an tl trust i^uards without the abbey, mis- taking the claiiiorout luso within for a seditious rising LntcTit to massacre their lord and •^hi lirst emotions of surprise and ^ houses by way of reprisals. The flames rapidly commuiucatmg to the wooden buildings round about, produced great consternation, and occasioned the loss of many Hves. William and the pale and trembling assistant prelates and priests within the church were dismayed, and faltered in the midst of the ceremonial, and with good cause; for if great exertions had not been used by the more sober- minded portion of the Norman guards to extinguish the con- flagration, which presently extended to the abbey, that mag- nificent edifice, with all the illustrious company within its walls, must have been consumed together. Some persons have considered this fire as the work of the Saxon populace, with intent to destroy at one blow the Norman conqueror and his followers, with such of their own countrymen as had for- gotten their honour so far as to become, not only witnesses, but assistants, at the coronation of their foe. And this in- deed is not improbable, if the Anglo-Saxons of that period had evinced a spirit capable of conceiving and carrying into execution a design of such terrific grandeur for the deUver- ance of their country. The Norman soldiery could by no means be appeased till their beloved chief came out of the abbey, and showed himself to them in his coronation-robes and diadem.' * William of Poitou. Lingard. ^. #. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) P^ "^v^ ^ ^r Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WHSTIR.NY 1'SSO (716) •73-4)03 SLtf 1 MATILDA OF FLANDERS, QUEEN OP WILLIAM THE CONQUEROIl. I CHAPTER II. Matilda assumes the title of queen of England in Nonnandy — Her regency there — Patronage of learning — Charities — Her vengeance on Brihtric Meaw — Obtains his lands — His imprisonment — Death in prison — William's court at Berkhamstead — Triumphant retiimto Normandy — Matilda awaits liis landing —Triumphal Norman progresses — Revolts in England — AViUiam re-appoints Matilda regent — Embarks for England in a storm — William sends for Matilda — She arrives in England with her children — Her coronation at Winchester — Champion at her coronation — Birth of her son Henry — Bayeux tapestry — The dwarf artist, Turold — Matidda's daughter — Revolt of the English — Queen Matilda's return to Normandy — Regent there the third time — Her passionate love for her eldest son — Death of her father — Dissensions of her brothers — III effects of her absence — Separate governments of William and Matilda — King of France attacks Matilda — Her able government — Discontent of Norman ladies — Scandalous reports — William's supposed conjugal infidelity — Matilda's cruelty to her rival — Duke of Bretagne invades Normandy — Marriugo with Matilda's second daughter — Dissensions in the royal family — Matilda's par- tiality to her son Robert — Her second son, prince Richard — His death — New Forest. " Our mistress Matilda," says William of Poitou/ the chap- lain of the Conqueror, "had already assumed the name of queen, though she was not yet crowned. She had governed Normandy during the absence of her lord with great prudence and skill." So firmly, indeed, had that authority been sus- * Tliis elegant author, who is also called Pictaviensis, was archdeacon of Lisicux. His chronicle of the Conquest of England is written in very flowing language, greatly resembling in style an heroic poem. It aboundn with culogiums on his royal patron, but is extremely valuable on account of the personal history which it cuntaiiu. It is lomotiuies called the Domestic Chronicle of William of Normandy. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 67 tained, that, though the whole flower and strength of Nor- mandy had followed the fortunes of their warlike duke to the shores of England, not one of the neighbouring princes had ventured to molest the duchess-regent. Her kinsman, the emperor Henry, had engaged, in event of any aggression on the part of France or Bretagne, to defend Normandy with the whole strength of Germany, and she also had a powerful neighbour and protector in the earl of Flanders, her father ; but great credit was certainly due to her own poUtical con- duct, in keeping the duchy free, both from external embroil- ments and internal strife at such a momentous period. Her government waa very popular as well as prosperous in Nor- mandy, where, surrounded by the most learned men of the age, she advanced in no shght degree the progress of civiliza- tion and refinement. The encouragement she afforded to arts and letters has won for this princess golden reports in the chronicle lore of that age.* Well aware was Matilda of the importance it is to princes to enlist in their service the pens of those who possess the power of defending or undermining thrones, and whose influence continues to bias the minds of men after the lapse of ages. "This princess," says Ordericus Vitahs, "who derived her descent from the kings of France and emperors of Germany, was even more distinguished for the purity of her mind and manners than for her illustrious lineage. As a queen she was munificent, and liberal of her gifts. She united beauty with gentle breeding and all the graces of Christian holiness. While the victorious arms of her iUi^- trious spouse subdued all things before him, she was inde- fatigable in alleviating distress in every shape, and redoubled her alms. In a word, she exceeded all commendations, and won the love of all hearts." Such is the character which one of the most eloquent and circumstantial historians of the eleventh century luis given of Matilda. Yet Ordericus Vitalis, as a contemporary witness, could scarcely have been ignorant of the dark stain whicli the first exercise of her newly-acquired power in England has left * Ordericus Vitu William of I'oitou. M 58 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. upon her memory. The Chronicle of Tewkesbuiy, which states that Brihtric Meaw, the lord of the honour of Glou- cester, when he resided at her father's court as ambassador from Edward the Confessor had refused to marry Matilda, adds, that in the first year of the reign of WiUiam the Con- queror, Matilda obtained from her lord the grant of all Brihtric's lands and honoiu*s, and that she then caused the unfortunate Saxon to be seized at his manor of Hanelye, and conveyed to Winchester, where he died in prison and was privately buried.* Thus, then, does it appear that Matilda, after having enjoyed for foiu^een years the greatest happiness as a wife and mother, had secretly brooded over the bitter memory of the sUght that had been offered to her in early youth, for the purpose of inflicting the deadUest vengeance in return on the man who had rejected the love she had once condescended to offer. This circumstance is briefly related, not only in a general, but a topographical history, without comment, and it is in no shght degree confirmed by the records of the Domesday-book, where it appears that Avening, Tewkesbury, Fairford, Thorn- bury, Whitenhurst, and various other possessions in Gloucester- shire, belonging to Brihtric, the son of Algir, were granted to Matilda by the Conqueror ; and after her death, reverting to the crown, were by William again bestowed on their see: son, Wilham Ruftis.' Matilda, moreover, deprived Gloucester of its charter and civic liberties, merely because it was the city of the unfortimate Brihtric, — perhaps for showing some sign of resentment for * Chron. Tewkesbury, Bib. Cottonian MSS. Cleopatra, c. 111. Mona«ticon, vol. iii. p. 69. Leland's Coll., vol. i. p. 78. The author of the continuation of Brut, bom in the same age, and written in the reign of Henry I,, son of this queen, thus alludes to this circumstance: " La qnelo jadis, quant fti pucclle, Ama un oonte d'Anglet«rre, Brihtric Mau, le oi nomer, Apres le roi ki f\i riche ber. A lui la pucell envocia messagcr, Pur sa amour a lui procurer: Mus Brihtric Maude refVisa." * Who, when she was maiden. Loved a count of England, Brihtnc Mau he was named, Except the king was no richer man. To him the virgin sent a messenger. His love for her to obtain : But Brihtric revised Maude.' • " Infra scriptas terras tcnuit Brihtric, et post licgina Matilda." — Domesday* book; tom. ii. p. 100. History of Gloucester. MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 69 which f Glou- assador tlatilda, le Con- of all sed the lye, and bud was having s a wife smory of , for tho 1 on the snded to general, is in no ay-book, , Thom- oucester- •qnted to srting to r see: irter and fortimate ment for Monastloon, ;inuation of son of this [den, ad, jned, richer man. L messenger, in: aude.' -Domesday- his fate. We fear that the first of our Norman queens must, on this evidence, stand convicted of the crime of wrong and robbery, if not of absolute murder ; and if it had been possible to make a post-mortem examination on the body of the unfor- tunate son of Algar, sufficient reason might have been seen, perhaps, for the private nature of his interment. All this wrong was done by agency ; for, if dates be correct, Matilda had not yet entered England.^ A few days after his coronation, WiUiam, feeling some reason to distrust the Londoners, withdrew to his old quarters at Berkhamstead, where he kept his court, and succeeded in drawing round him many of the most influential of the Saxon princes and thanes, to whom, in return for their oaths of allegiance, he restored their estates and honours. His next step, for tiie mutual satisfaction of his Norman followers and Saxon subjects, was to lay the foundation of the church and abbey of St. Martin, now called Battle-abbey, where perpetual prayers were directed to be offered up for the repose of the souls cf all who had fallen in that sanguinary conflict. Wilham having been now six months separated from his wife and family, his desire to embrace them once more, and to display to his Norman subjects his newly acquired gi-andeur, induced him to spend the Easter festival in Normandy with Matilda. Previous to his departure, he placed strong Norman garrisons iiv all his castles, and carried with him to Normandy all the leading men among the Anglo-Saxons. Among these were Edgar Athehng, Morcar, Edwin, and Waltheof.'' He re-embarked in the Mora, in the month of March, 1067, and, with the most splendid company that ever sailed from England, crossed the seas, and landed on his native shore, a Uttle below * In addition to our numerous ancient authorities regarding Brihtric Meaw, we subjoin this important extract from a work by one of tho most learned antiquarian historians of the age: "Brihtric, the son of Algar, a Haxon thane^ is stated in Domesday to have held this manor in the reign of Edward the Confessor; but having given offence to Maud, the daughter of Baldwin count of Flanders, previous to her marriage with William duke of Normandy, by reftising to marry her himself, his property was seized by that monarch on tho conquest, and bestowed, seemingly in revenge, upon the queen." — Ellis's History of Tlwrn« bury Castle. Bristol, 1839. ' William of Poitou. Malmesbury. S. Dunclm. Walsinghara. 60 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. the abbey of Feseamp. Matilda was there, with her children/ in readiness to receive and welcome her illustrious lord, who was greeted with the most enthusiastic rapture by all classes of his subjects. For joy of William's return the solemn fast of Lent was this year kept as a festival; all labour was suspended, and nothing but mirth and pleasure prevailed in his native Normandy.^ William appears to have had infinite pleasure in displaying, not only to his wife and family, but to the foreign ambassadors, the costly spoils which he had brought over from England.' The quantity and exquisite workmanship of the gold and silver plate, and, withal, the ri^^hness of the embroidered garments wrought by the skilful hands of the Anglo-Saxon ladies, (then esteemed so inestimably precious in all parts of Europe, that they were called, by distinction, Anglicum opus*) excited the admiration and astonishment of all beholders ; but more particularly did the splendid dress of his guards, and the magnificence and beauty of the long-haired and moustached Anglo-Saxon nobles by whom he was attended, attract the wonder of the foreign princes and peers. On the 18th of June, Matilda's newly erected abbey-church of the Holy Trinity, being now completed, was consecrated with great pomp, in the presence of the royal foimdress and her victorious lord. On the same day, duke William presented at the altar their infant daughter CeciUa, and devoted her to the service of God.* A grand, yet painfully exciting pageant that scene must have been, for who could then answer how far the heart of the unconscious babe, who was thus devoted to a hfe of rehgious celibacy, obedience, humility, poverty, and seclusion from the world, might hereafter acquiesce in the sacrifice to which her parents were devoting her ? But what a subject for the pencil of the historic painter, that church in its fresh glorious beauty I — thronged with a venerating congre- gation of nobles, ladies, burghers, soldiers, peasants, mariners, and craftsmen, clad in the picturesque costumes of their various * 'William of Poitou. Henderson. ' William of Poitou. Ibid. * Knglisli work. * Hardy's Notes on William of MalmcHbury. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. W [lildren/ rd, who . classes mn fast our was ailed in playing, Lssadors, ngland.' old and roidered o-Saxon parts of ri opus*) ers; but and the iistached I'act the r-church seerated ress and resented her to pageant wer how devoted 3rty, and in the lut what hurch in congre- aariuers, r various work. ranks and callings, interspersed with the victorious Norman and vanquished Saxon chiefs, whose descendants are now blended into one mighty people, — ^the beautiful duchess Matilda, invested with the regal insignia of the queenly rank to which her warhke consort's late achievements had elevated her, surrounded with all her blooming progeny, yet looking with fonder maternal interest on the chosen lamb which had just been separated from that fair flock, to be presented by the conqueror of England as a thank-offering to the God of battles, who had prospered him in his late enterprise, and given him a name greater than that of his far-famed predecessor, Rollo.* The whole summer was spent by William in a series of triumphant progresses, through the towns and cities of Normandy, with his queen-duchess.' Meanwhile, the spirit of freedom was crushed, but not extmguished, among the people of England, and the absence of the Conqueror was re- garded as a favourable opportunity for expelling the unwelcome locusts who had fastened upon the land, and were devouring its fatness. A secret plot was organized for a simultaneous rising throughout England, and a general massacre of the Normans.* But though the terror of William's actual presence was withdrawn for a season, he kept up a strict espionage on the proceedings of the Enghsh. The first rumour of what was going on among them, roused him from the career of pleasure which he had been pursuing. Relinquishing the idea of keeping a splendid Christmas with his beloved family, he re-appointed Matilda and his son Robert regents of Normandy, and embarking on a stormy sea, he sailed from Dieppe on the 6th of December.* On the 7th he arrived at Winchelsea, and proceeded immediately to London, to the * Matilda's foundation possesses a strong historical interest, even as connected with recent events in France. M. de Lamartine, in his beautiful work on the Oironde, when relating the occurrences of the youth of Cliarlotte Corday, who was brought up in that abbey, gives us this information on its modern destina- tion: "Tliese vast cloisters and chapel of Norman architecture, built in 1066 by Matilda, wife of William the Conqueror, after having been deserted, degrodetl, and forgotten in its ruins until 1730, was then magnificently restored; at this day it forms one of the finest hospitals in Fra»cc, and one of the most splendid public buildings in the city of Caen." — Vol. iii. p. 57. 1848. * Ordericus Vitahs. Saxon Clironicle. • W. Poitou. * Ordcricus Vitalis. 62 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. consternation of the malcontents, who thought they were sure of him for the winter season. After the suppression of the revolt, "William, perceiving the disadvantages attendant on a queenless court, and feeUng withal the greatest desire to enjoy the society of his beautiful consort, despatched a noble company into Normandy, to con- duct Matilda and her children to England.* She joyfully obeyed the welcome mandate of her lord, and crossed the sea with a stately cortege of nobles, knights, and ladies.^ Among the learned clerks by whom she was attended was the cele- brated Gui, bishop of Amiens, who had distinguished himself by an heroic poem on the defeat and fall of Harold. Matilda arrived in England soon after Easter, in the month of April, 1068, and proceeding immediately to Winchester, was received with great joy by her lord ; preparations were instantly commenced for her coronation, which was appointed to take place in that city on Whit-Sunday.' The great festivals of the church appear in the middle ages to have been considered by the English as peculiarly auspicious days for the solemnization of coronations and marriages, if we may judge by the frequency of their occurrence at those seasons. Sunday was generally chosen for a coronation-day. William, who had been exceedingly anxious to share his newly acquired honours with Matilda, chose to be re-crowned at the same time, to render the pageant of her consecration more impos- ing ; and farther to conciliate the affections of his EngUsh subjects, he repeated for the second time the oath by which he engaged to govern with justice and moderation, and to preserve inviolate that great palladium of EngUsh Uberty, trial by jury.* This coronation was far more splendid than that which had preceded it in Westminster-abbey, at WiUiam's first inaugu- ration, where the absence of the queen and her ladies deprived the ceremony of much of its brilliancy, and the alarming conflagration by which it was interrupted must have greatly * OrdericuB Vitalis. ' Ibid. • Florence of Worcester. S. Dunelm. M. Westminster. < S. Dunolm. Saxon Chronicle. m T( l( MATILDA OF FLANDERS. abridged the pomp and festivities that had been anticipated on that occasion. Here every thing went off auspiciously. It was in the smihng season of the year, when the days were long and bright, without having attained to the oppressiveness of summer heat. The company, according to the report of contemporary historians, was exceedingly nmnerous and noble j and the Conqueror, whe appears to have been in a wonderfully gracious mood that day, was very sprightly and facetious on the occasion, and conferred favours on all who solicited. The graceful and majestic person of queen Matilda, and the nimiber and beauty of her fine children, charmed the populace, and every one present was deUghted with the order and regularity with which this attractive pageant was conducted.* The nobles of Normandy attended their duchess to the church ; but after the crown was placed on her head by Aldred, archbishop of York, she was served by her new subjects, the English. The first occasion on which the office of champion was instituted, is said to have been at this splendid coronation at Winchester, where William caused his consort to be associated with himself in all the honours of royalty.' The ceremonial of Matilda's inauguration-banquet afforded precedents for most of the grand feudal offices at subsequent coronations.' Among these, the office of 'grand pannetier' has been for some time extinct. His service was to bear the salt and the carving-knives from the pantry to the king's dining-table, and his fees were the salt-cellars, spoons, and knives laid on the royal table. " Forks were not among the royal luxuries at the board of the mighty WiUiam and his fair Matilda, who both, in feeding themselves, verified the proverb which says ' that fingers were made before forks.' " — "The grand pannetier likewise served the bread to the sovereign, and received, in addition to the rest of his fees, the bread-cover, called the coverpane. For this service the Beauchamps held the manor of Beauchamp Kib worth. The manor of Addington was likewise granted by the Conqueror to Tezehn, his cook, for composing a dish of white soup called dillegrout, which especially pleased the royal palate." ^ HendersoQ. ' Ibid. * Qloriea of Begality. C4 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ^' 1^ ij 8 I " When the noble company had retired from the church, and were seated at dinner in the banqueting hall/' says Hen- derson, in his Life of the Conqueror, " a bold cavaUer called Marmion,' completely armed, rode into the hall, and did at three several times repeat this challenge :— ' If any person denies that our most gracious sovereign, lord WiUiam, and his spouse Matilda, are not king and queen of England, he is a false-hearted traitor and a har ; and here I, as champion, do challenge him to single combat.' " No person accepted the challenge, and Matilda was called la reine ever after. The same year, Matilda brought into the world her fourth son, Henry, sumamed Beauclerc. This event took place at Selby, in Yorkshire, and was productive of some degree of satis- faction to the people, who considered the English-bom prince with far more complacency than his three Norman brethren, Robert, Richard, and William-Rufiis. Matilda settled upon her new-bom son all the lands she possessed in England and Normandy; they were to revert to him after her death. Tran- quiUity now appeared to be completely restored ; and Matilda, enjoying every happiness as a wife, a mother, and a queen, seemed to be placed at the very summit of earthly prosperity. Whether it be by accident, or owing to a close attention to the reaUty he saw before him, it is certain that the antique limner who drew Matilda's portrait has represented the organ of constructiveness in her head as very decidedly developed. She afforded remarkable instances of this propensity in the noble ecclesiastical buildings of which she was the foundress, also in her ingenious and curious example of industry in the Bayeux tapestry, wherein she has wrought the epic of her husband's exploits, from Harold's first landing in Normandy to his fall at Hastings. It is, in fact, a most important historical document, in which the events and costume of * Henderson inaccurately says "Dymock ;" it was Marmion. This ceremony, tinknovsTX among the Saxon monarchs, was of Norman origin. The land« of Fontenaye, in Normandy, were held by Marmion, one of the followers of William tho Conqueror, on the tenure of championship. The office was hereditary in the family of Marmion, and from them, by heirship, descended to the Dymocks of Scrivelsbye. — See Dtigdale. The armorial bearings of the Marmions, from the performance of this great service, were, — sable, on arming sword, the point in chiuC argent. — Glories of Regality. MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 65 of that momentous period are faithfully presented to us, by the indefatigable fingers of the first of our Norman queens and her ladies, and certainly deserves a particular description. This curious monument of antiquity is still preserved in the cathedral of Bayeux, where it is distinguished by the name of " la Tapissiere de la Eeine Matilde:" it is also called " the duke of Normandy's toilette," which simply means the duke's great cloth. It is a piece of canvas, about nineteen inches in breadth, but upwards of sixty-seven yards in length, on which, as we have said, is embroidered the history of the conquest of England by William of Normandy, commencing with the visit of Harold to the Norman court, and ending with his death at the battle of Hastings, 1066. The leading transactions of those eventful years, the death of Edward the Confessor, and the coronation of Harold in the diamber of the royal dead, are represented in the clearest and most regular order in this piece of needlework, which contains many hundred figures of men, horses, birds, beasts, trees, houses, castles, churches, and ships, all executed in their proper colours, with names and inscriptions in Latin, explanatory of the subject of every section.' This pictorial chronicle of her mighty consort's achievements appears to have been, in part * The Bayeux tapestry has lately been mnch the subject t^controTersy among ■ome learned individuals, who are determined to deprive Matilda of her tradi* tionary fWme as the person firom whom this specimen of female dull and industry emanated. Montfauoon, Thierry, Planche, Ducarel, Taylor, and many other important authorities, may be quoted in support of the historical tradition that it was the work of MatUda and her ladies. The brief limits to which we are confined in these biographies, will not admit ' ( or entering into the arguments of those who dispute the fact, though we Live carefuUy examined them; and, with due deference to the judgment of the lords of the creation on all subjectA connected with policy and science, we venture to think that our learned friends, the archeeologists and antiquaries, would do well to direct their intellectual powers to more masculine objects of inquiry, and leave the question of the Bayeux tapestry (with all other matters aUied to needle-craft) to the decision of the ladies, to whose province it peculiarly belongs. It is matter of doubt to us whether one out of the many gentlemen who have disputed Matilda's claims to that work, if Cfdled upon to execute a copy of either of the figures on canvas, would know how to put in the first stiteh. The whole of the Bayeux tapestry has been engraven, edited by tliu smnu Innmed gentleman. MATILDA OF FLANDERS, 71 in a position of peculifi"* acuity, in consequence of the revolt of the province of >> uie, and the combined hostilities of the king of France and the duke of Bretagne, who had taken advantage of the manner in which William was occupied with the Scotch invasion and the Saxon revolt to attack his continental dominions, and Matilda was compelled to apply to her absent lord for succour. "William immediately despatched the son of Fitz-Osbom to assist his fair regent in her military arrangements for the defence of Normandy, and expedited a peace with the king of Scotland, that he might the sooner come to her aid in person with his veteran troops. The Norman ladies were at that period extremely malcon- tent at the long-protracted absence of their lords.* The wife of Hugh Grantmesnil, the governor of Winchester, had caused them great uneasiness by the reports which she had circulated of the infideUties of their husbands. These representations had induced the indignant dames to send peremptory mes- sages for the immediate return of their lords. In some instances the warhke Normans had yielded obedience to these conjugal mandates, and returned home, greatly to the pre- judice of WiUiam's aflfairs in England. This was the aim of the lady of Grantmesnil, who had for some reason conceived a particular ill-will against her sovereign; and not content with doing every thing in her power to incite his Norman subjects to revolt, she had thought proper to cast the most injurious aspersions on his character as a husband, and insinu- ated that he had made an attempt on her virtue.' Githa, the mother of Harold, eagerly caught at these reports, which she took great pleasure in circidating. She communicated them to Sweno, king of Denmark, and added, that the reason why Merleswen, a Kentish noble of some importance, had joined the late revolt in England was, because the Norman tyrant had dishonoured his fair niece, the daughter of one of the canons of Canterbury.' This tale, ' OrdoricuH Vitalis. Mnlmcshury. ' Ili'ndorflon. Ordericus Vitalis. ' Himdt'rsoii'8 Lift) of the Conqueror. It imist bo roniomUTwl tlmt tlie niiirriiiiri'8 of tliu EiitrliHli clcrurv were allowed bv the Aiiirlo-Saxon catliolio church till neiir a quurter of a century ullerwurdfl. 72 MATILDA OP FLANDERS. il whether false or true, came in due course to Matilda's ears, and caused the first conjugal difference that had ever arisen between her and her lord. She was by no means of a temper to take any affront of the kind patiently, and it is said that she caused the unfortunate damsel to be put to death, with circumstances of great cruelty.* Heame, in his notes to Robert of Gloucester, furnishes us with a curious sequel to this tale, extracted from a very ancient chronicle among the Cot- tonian MSS., which, after relating " that the priest's daughter was privily slain by a confidential servant of Matilda, the queen," adds, "that the Conqueror was so enraged at the barbarous revenge taken by his consort, that, on his return to Normandy, he beat her with his bridle so severely, that she soon after died/' Now, it is certain Matilda Uved ftdl ten years after the period at which this matrimonial discipline is said to have been inflicted upon her by the strong arm of the Conqueror; and the worthy chronicler himself merely relates it as one of the current rumours of the day. We are wiUing to hope that the story altogether has originated from the scandalous reports of that malign busy-body of the eleventh century, the lady Grantmesml; though, at the same time, it is to be feared, that the woman who was capable of inflicting such deadly vengeance on the unfortimate Saxon nobleman ' who had been the object of her earUest afiections, would not have been very scrupulous in her dealings with a female whom she suspected of having rivalled her in her husband's regard. WiUiam of Malmesbury bears testimony to the conjugal aflcc- tion which subsisted between the Conqueror and Matilda, " whose obedience to her husband, and fruitftdness in bringing him so many children," he says, "excited in his mind the tenderest regard towards her." If any cause of anger or mistrust had occurred, during their long separation, to inter- rupt the conjugal happiness of Matilda and her husband, it was but a passing cloud, for historians all ag^cc that they were living together in a state of tlie most affectionate union ' She cauBwl her to bo hamstrung.-Ilapui. Henderson 8uy» Mixtildu ordered ber jawH to be slit. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 73 during the year 1074, great part of which was spent by the Conqueror with his family in Normandy/ It was at this period that Edgar Athehng came to the court at Caen, to make a voluntary submission to the Norman sovereign, and to entreat his forgiveness for the several insur- rections in which he had been engaged. The Conqueror freely accorded an amnesty, treated him with great kind- ness, and pensioned him with a daily allowance of a pound of silver,^ in the hope that this amicable arrangement would secure his government in England from all future disturbances. He was mistaken : fresh troubles had already broken out in that quarter, but this time they proceeded from his own tur- bulent Norman chiefs j one of them, withal, was the son of his great favourite and trusty kinsman, Fitz-Osbom, who was defeated and taken prisoner' by the nobles and prelates of Worcester. The Danish fleet, which had vamly hovered on the coast, waiting for a signal to land troops to assist the conspirators, was fain to retreat without efiecting its object. As for the great Saxon earl, Waltheof, who had been drawn into the plot and betrayed by his Norman wife, Judith, to her uncle the Conqueror, he was, after a long suspense, be- headed on a rising-ground just without the gates of Win- chester ; being the first English nobleman who had died by the hand of a pubhc executioner.* WiUiam next pursued his Norman traitor, Ralph de Guader, to the continent, and besieged him in the city of Dol, where he had taken refuge. The young duke of Bretagne, Alan Fergeant, assisted by the king of France, came with a powerful ' OrdericuH Vitalis. Malmesbory. Saxon Annals. • Saxon Annalfl. Malincsbury. Brompton. ' Fitz-OHborn was a relation of his sovereign, and, before this act of contumacy, Htootl high in his favour. He was only punished with imprisonment for his share in the eonHpiracy. AtUir a time his roytil moHter, as a token that he was disposed to pardon him, sent him a costly suit of clothes ; but Fitz-Osbom, instead of tendering his grateAil acknowledgments for this present, ordered a large fire to 1k) niiulo, and, in the presence of the messenger, burned the rich garments, one by one, witli the most insolent expressions of contempt. William was very aii^ry iit the manner in which his unwonted graciousness was received by his vuusu! kins'.nan but isirilctcd no severer 'Hinishsnent than ft Isp^thensd term o? iuipriMJUuiunt. — lleuuersuu. * Ordericus Vitolli. f4i HIATILDA OF FLANDERS. Y: \\ U.: ^ II army to the succour of the besieged earl ; and William was not only compelled to raise the siege, but to abandon his tents and baggage, to the value of fifteen thousand pounds. His diplomatic talents, however, enabled him to extricate himself from the embarrassing strait in which he had been placed, by a marriage between Alan and his daughter Constance. This alliance was no less advantageous to the princely bridegroom, than agreeable to WiUiam and Matilda. The nuptials were celebrated with great pomp, and the bride was dowered with all the lands of Chester, once the possessions of the unfortunate earl Edwin, who had formerly been con- tracted to one of her sisters.' At the close of this year died Edith, the widow of Edward the Confessor. She had retired to a convent, but was treated with the respect and honour of a queen-dowager, and was buried in Westminster-abbey. She was long siu^ved by her unfortunate sister-in-law, Edith or Algitha, the widow of Harold, the other Saxon queen-dowager, who, having had woful experience of the calamities of greatness and the vanity of euthly distinctions, volimtarily resigned her royal title, and passed the residue of her days in obscurity. In the year 1075, William and Matilda, with their family, kept the festival of Easter with great pomp at Fescamp, and attended in person the profession of their eldest daughter Cecilia, who was there veiled a nun by the archbishop John." " This royal maid," says Ordericus Vitalis, " had been educated with great care in the convent of Caen, where she was instructed in all the learning of the age, and several sciences. She was consecrated to the holy and indivisible Trinity, took the veil under the venerable abbess Matilda, and faithfully conformed to all the rules of conventual discipline. Ceciha succeeded this abbess in her office, having, for fourteen years, maintained the highest reputation for sanctity and wisdom. From the moment that she was dedicated to God by her father, she became a true servant of the Most High, and continued a pure and holy virgin, attending to the pious rules of her order for a period of fiftv-two years," * Saxon Annnls. S. Dunelm. Malmesbiiry. ^ Ordcricxis Vitalis. Malmcsbury. di is MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 75 Soon after the profession of the lady Cecilia, those fatal divisions began to appear in the royal family, of which Matilda is accused of having sown the seeds by the injurious partiahty she had shown for Robert, her first-bom. This prince, having been associated with his royal mother in the regency of Normandy from the age of fourteen, had been brought more into pubUc than was perhaps desirable at a period of life when presumptuous ideas of self-importance are only too apt to inflate the mind. Robert, during his father's long absence, was not only emancipated from all control, but had accustomed himself to exercise the functions of a sovereign in Normandy by anticipation, and to receive the homage and flattery of all ranks of people in the dominions to which he was the heir. The Conqueror, it seems, had promised that he would one day bestow the duchy of Normandy on him ; and Robert, having represented the ducal majesty for nearly eight years, considered himself an injured person when his royal father took the power into his own hands once more, and exacted from him the obedience of a subject, and the duty of a son.^ There was also a jealous rivalry between Robert and his two younger brothers, William-Rufus and Henry. Wilham-Rufus, notwith- standing his rude, boisterous manners, and the apparent recklessness of his disposition, had an abundant share of world- craft, and well knew how to adapt himself to his father's humour, so that he was no less a favourite with the Conqueror tlian Robert was with Matilda. Robert had been in his infancy espoused to Margaret, the heiress of Herbert, the last earl of that province. The httle comitess died while they were yet children, and WiUiam of Normandy, who had taken her lands under his wardship, annexed them to his own dominions after her death. When the juvenile widower became of age, he considered himself entitled to the earldom and lands of Maine in right of his deceased wife, and claimed them of his father, who put him ofi^ with fair words, but withheld the territory j though the people of Maine demanded Robert for their lord, and, at the surrender of the revolted city of Mans, it was among the articles of capitulation that he shoulcl receive , ' Ordericus Vitalis. 76 MATILDA OP FLANDERS. the investiture of the earldom. This condition was violated by the Conqueror, who had no mind to part with any portion of his acquisitions during his hfe; verifying in this, as in every other action, the predictions of the gossips at his birth, " that he would grasp every thing within his reach, and that which he had once grasped he would keep/" This was a perpetual source of discontent to Robert, who, though reck- lessly generous, was of a proud and irritable temperament. In the year 1076, while Matilda and WilHam were with their family at the castle of FAigle, their two younger sons, William and Henry, in wanton play, threw some dirty water from the balcony of an upper apartment on Robert and some of his partisans, who were walking in the court below. The fiery heir of Normandy construed this act of boyish folly into an act of studied contempt; and being just then in an irritable and excited frame of mind, he drew his sword and rushed up stairs, with a threat of taking deadly vengeance on the youth- ful transgressors who had offered this insult to him before the whole court. This occasioned a prodigious tumult and uproar in the castle, and nothing but the presence and stem authority of the king, who, hearing the alarm, burst into the room with his drawn sword in his hand, could have prevented fatal con- sequ*. rices.'' Robert, not obtaining the satisfaction he expected for the affront he had received, privately retired from the court that very evening, followed by a party of the young nobility whom he had attached to his cause.' Richard, the second son of William and Matilda, does not appear to have taken any part in these quarrels. He was the pupil of the learned Lanfranc, and was probably occupied with studious pursuits, as he is said to have been a prince of great promise, and of an amiable disposition.* He died in England, in the flower of his youth. According to popular tradition, he was gored by a stag, while himting in the New Forest, which caused his death; but some historians record that he died of a fever, occasioned by the malaria in the depopulated district of Hampshire, at the time when so many * Ordcricus Vitalis. ^ Ibid. " Maimesbury. * Camden. Saxon Chronicle. •vCATILDA OF FLANDERS. 77 thousands of the mifortunate Saxons perished by famine, in consequence of having been driven from their homes when the Conqueror converted that once fertile part of England into a chase, for the enjoyment of his favourite amusement of hunting. Prince Richard was buried in Winchester cathe- dral : a slab of stone, marked with his name, is still seen there. Drayton gives a political reason for the depopulation of the shore of Hampshire, occasioned by the enclosure of the New Porest, which is well worth the consideration of the historical reader: " Clear Avon, coming in, her sister Stour doth call. And at New Forest's foot into the sea doth fall ; That forest now, whose site e'en boundless seems to lie, ' Its being erst received from William's tyranny. Who framed laws to keep those beasts he planted then. His lawless will from hence before had driven men : That where the earth was warmed with Winter's festal fires. The melancholic hare now forms in tangled brakes and briers ; And on sites of churches, grown with nettles, fern, and weeds. Stands now the aged ranpick trunk, where ploughmen cast their seeds. The people were by WiUiam here cut off from every trade. That on this spot the Norman still might enter to invade; And on this desolated place and unfrequented shore. New forces evermore might land to iud those here before." The Saxon chronicle comments on the oppressive statutes enacted by the Norman conqueror for the preservation of game in an eloquent strain of indignant irony, and says, " he loved the tall deer as if he had been their father." That game-laws were in existence at a much earher period, is most certain; but it was during this reign that they were rendered a grievance to the people, and assumed the character of a moral wrong in the legislature of the country. The more enlightened poKcy of modem jurisprudence has in some degree ameliorated the rigorous penalties enacted by our Norman line of sovereigns against poaching in its various departments, but the bitterness engendered by the spirit of those laws remains in fuU force in the hearts of those classes against whom the statutes are supposed to point, and is constantly acted upon by persons assuming the office of pohtical agitators, for the purpose of creating divisions between the people and their rulers. !1 )' \ 1 I >l MATILDA OF FLANDERS, ■ ( QUEEN OP WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. m Hi] i i CHAPTER III. IMatilda mediates between her husband and son — Robert's insolence and rebellion — Matilda supplies him with money — Conqueror seizes Matilda's agent — Conqueror's reproaches — Queen's answer — Robert's military prowess — Field of Archembraye — Robert wounds the Conqueror — His penitence — Matilda intercedes — Conqueror writes to his son — Robert pardoned — Conqueror's legislation in England — Domesday-book — Royal revenue — Queen of England's perquisites and privileges — Her dues at Queenhithe — Officers of royal house- hold — Matilda's court the model of succeeding ones — She continues to govern Normandy — Her visit to the monastery of Ouche — Illness and death of her second daughter — Fresh civuse of sorrow to the queen — Robert's dissensioa. with his father — Matilda's distress — Applies to a hermit — His vision, and message to the queen — Her grief and lingering ill 3ss — Dying of a broken heart — The Conqueror hastens from England — She dies — Her obsequies — Her alms — Tomb — Epitaph — Will — Articles of dress named therein — Portrait (see frontispiece) — Her cluldren — The Conqueror's deep atilictiou — Disquiets after the death of the queen — Fatal accident to the Conqueror — Death — His body plundered — Accidents and interruptions at his funeral — Monument — Portrait — Destruction of his tomb — Of Matilda's tomb — Her sapphire ring — Their bodies re-interred — Matilda's tomb restored — Final destruction at French revolution. The feud between her royal husband and her first-bom was very painful to Matilda, whose anxious attempts to eflFect a reeoncihation were imavailing. When Robert's passion was somewhat cooled, he consented to see his father, but the inter- view was any thing but fiiendly. Ordericus Vitahs gives the following particulars of the conference. Robert assumed a very high tone, and repeated his demand of being invested with the duchies of Normandy and Maine. This was, of course^ refused by the Conqueror, who stemiy MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 79 bade his ambitious heir " remember the fate of Absalom, and the misfortunes of Rehoboam, and not to listen to the evil counsellors who wished to seduce him from the paths of duty." On which Robert insolently rephed, " That he did not come there to listen to sermons, with which he had been nauseated by his tutors when he was learning grammar, but to claim the investiture which had been promised to him. Answer me positively," continued he ; " are not these things my right ? Have you not promised to bestow them on me?"' — " It is not my custom to strip till I go to bed," rephed the Conqueror; " and as long as I Hve, I will not deprive myself of my native realm, Normandy ; neither will I divide it with another, for it is written in the holy evangehsts, ' Every kingdom that is divided against itself shall become desolate." I won England by mine own good sword; the vicars of Christ placed the diadem of its ancient kings on my brow and the sceptre in mine hand, and I swear that all the world combined shall not compel me to delegate my power to another. It is not to be borne, that he who owes his existence to me should aspire to be my rival in mine own dominions." But Robert scomfiilly rejoined, with equal pride and disrespect, " If it be inconvenient for you to keep your word, I wiU withdraw from Normandy and seek justice from strangers, for here I will not remain as a subject." •'' With these words he quitted the royal presence, and, with a party of disaffected nobles, took refuge with Matilda's brother, Robert earl of Flanders, sumamed ' le Frison,' from his having married the coimt6ss of Friesland. From this uncle Robert received very bad advice, and the king of France endeavoured, by all the means in his power, to widen the breach between the undutiful heir of Normandy and his father. Encoiu'aged by these evil counsellors, Robert busied himself in fomenting discontents and organizing a formidable faction in his father's dominions, whence he drew large sums, in the shape of presents and loans, from many of the vassals of the ducal crown, who were willing to ingratiate themselves with the heir-apparent, ' Ordericus Vitaiis. Hemmingford. * Ordericus Vitaiis. S. Dunelm. P. Dauiel. Wakingham. ' Ordericus Vitaiis. 80 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. (^ III i 1 ■■ and tn conciL ""^ favoui of the queen-duchess, whose par- tial fond*""*"* Ic IV eldest son wa« «^nll known. ' ' The su|>plies thus uilitained Robert improvidently lavished amoti^ huB dissolute companioiis, both ma]( and female. In coiMpqiKeii^e of this extravagance, he was occasionally reduced to the ^*««test inconvenience. When under the pressure of those pecu/jiw/ embarrassments, whicl^ could not fail to expose him to the contempt of the foreign princes who espoused his quarrel against his father, he was wont to apply to his too indulgent mother, Matilda, by whom he was so passionately beloved that she could refuse him nothing ; from her private coflfers she secretly supplied him with lai^e sums of silver and gold, and when these resources were exhausted by the increasing demands of her prodigal son, Matilda had the weakness to strip herself of her jewels and rich garments for the same purpose.* This system continued even when Bobert had taken up arms against his father and sovereign. Roger de Beamnont, — ^that faithful minister whom Wilham had, previous to his first embarkation on the memorable expedition from St. Vallery, appointed as the premier of Normandy, and who had ever since assisted his royal mis- tress, not only with his counsels in the administration of affairs of state, but even in the education of her children, — felt it his duty to inform his sovereign of the underhand pro- ceedings of Matilda in favour of her rebel son.^ William was in England when the startling intelligence reached him of the unnatural rebeUion of his first-bom, and the treachery of his beloved consort, in whom he had ever reposed the most unbounded confidence. He appears scarcely to have given credence to the representations of Roger de Beaumont relating to the conduct of his queen, till, »»r ii -^ return to Normandy, he intercepted one of Matilda's private agents, named Sampson, who was charged with communica- tions from the ueen to Robert, which left no doubt on William's mind o: ':h ideiitity of the secret friend by whom his undutiful soi: 'iii.u hyra supplied with the means of carry- ing on his plots ^mC itostile nKiaures against his govern- 1 Malmesbuiy. Ordericus Vitalis. ' Malmeabury. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 81 se par- avished e. In 'educed sure of fail to 38 who ) apply was so :; from ;e sums hausted Ida had Eirments 1 when vereign. William morable nier of al mis- ition of dren, — nd pro- hgence >m, and lad ever scarcely ager > private naunica- >ubt on Y whom f carry- govem- n ment.' There was a stem grandeur, not unmixed with tender- ness, in the reproof which he addressed to his oflfending consort on this occasion. " The observation of a certain phi- losopher is true/' said he, " and I have only too much cause to admit the force of his words, — ' Naufiragiom remm est mtdier malefida marito :' " ' The woman who deceives her husband is the destruction of her own house/ Where in all the world could you have found a cfripanion so faithfid and devoted in his affection?" continued h'\. ]rnssionately. "Behold my wife, she whom I hpve loved as my own soul, to whom I have confided the oveiiimovit of my realms, my treasure, and all that I pos- 3ed in the world of power and greatness, — she hath sup- ported mine adversary against me, — she hath strengthened and enriched him from the wealth which I confided to her keeping, — she hath secretly employed her zeal and subtlety in his cause, and done every thing she could to encourage him against me 1"' Matilda's reply to this indignant but touching appeal, which her royal husband, more it should appear in sorrow than in anger, addressed to her, is no less remarkable for its impassioned eloquence than the subtlety with which she evades the principal point on which she is pressed, and en- trenches herself on the strong ground of maternal love. ** My lord," said she, " I pray you not to be surprised if I feel a mother's tenderness for my first-bom son. By the virtue of the Most High, I protest that if my son Robert were dead, and hidden far from the sight of the Uving, seven feet deep in the earth, and that the price of my blood could " "tore hmi to life, I would cheerfidly bid it flow. For his sake I would endure any suffering, yea, things from which, on any other occasion, the feebleness of my sex would shrink with terror. How, then, can you suppose that I could enjoy the pomp and luxuries with which I was surrounded, when I knew that he was pining in want and misery ? Far from my heart be such haidness, nor ought your authority to impose such insensibility on a mother."'' * Ordericus Vitalia. ' Tbid. * Ibid. VOL, I. w^ 82 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. > i| \^ William is reported to have turned pale with anger at this rejoinder. It was not, however, on Matilda, the object of his adoring and constant affection, that he prepared to inflict the measure of vengeance which her transgression against him had provoked. Sampson, the comparatively innocent agent whom she had employed in this transaction, was doomed to pay the dreadful penalty of the offence with the loss of sight, by the order of his enraged sovereign.* In such cases it is usual for the instrument to be the sacrifice, and persons of the kind are generally yielded up as a sort of scapegoat, or expiatory victim. But Matilda did not abandon her terrified agent in his distress ; she contrived to convey a hasty intima- tion of his peril, and her desire of preserving him, to some of the persons who were devoted to her service ; and Sampson, more fortunate than his illustrious namesake of yore, was enabled to escape the cruel sentence of his lord by taking sanctuary in the monastery of Ouche, of which Matilda was a munificent patroness. Nevertheless, as it was a serious thing to oppose the wrath of such a prince as Wilham, the abbot Manier foimd no other way of securing the trembling fugitive from his vengeance, than that of causing him to be shorn, shaven, and professed a monk of Ouche the same day he entered the convent, "in happy hour both for his body and soul,^' observes the contemporary chronicler who relates this circumstance.^ It does not appear that Wilham's affection for Matilda suffered any material diminution in consequence of these transactions, neither would he permit any one to censure her conduct in his presence.^ She was the love of liis youth, the solace of his meridian hours of hfe, and she presented her empire over his mighty heart to the last hour of her hfe. But though the attachment of the Conqueror to his consort remained unaltered, the happiness of the royal pair was materially im- paired. Robert, their first-bor^, was in ai'nis against his father and sovereign, and at the head of a numerous array, — supported by the hostile power of France on the one hand, and the disaffected portion of William's subjects on the other. * OixIctIciui Vitalis. ■ Ibid. • Ibid. AIATILDA OF FLANDEES. 83 He had made a formidable attack on Rouen^ and in several instances obtained successes which at first astonished his indig- nant parent, who had certainly greatly underrated the military talents of his heir. When, however, the Conqueror perceived that the fihal foe who had thus audaciously displayed his rebel banner against him inherited the martial genius of his race, and was by no means unlikely to prove a match for himself in the art of war, he advanced with a mighty army to give him battle. The royal chiefs of Normandy met in hostile encounter on the plain of Archembraye, near the castle of Gerberg. WiUiam Rufus, the Conqueror's favourite son, was in close attendance on his father's person that day. This prince had already received the honour of knighthood from Lanfranc, archbishop of Canterbury, his tutor, and he was eager to assist in humbling the pride of his elder brother, over whom the Conqueror anticipated a signal trimnph.^ The battle was fought with no common fury on both sides; but Robert, who headed a choice body of cavalry, decided the fortmie of the day by his impetuous charge upon the rearward of his foes, where his royal father commanded, whose utmost endeavours to preserve order in his ranks were ineffectual. It was m this charge that dobert, unconscious who the doughty champion was against whom he tilted, ran his father through the arm with his lance, and unhorsed him.'' This was the first time that WUham had ever been overcome in single com- bat, for he was one of the strongest men and most approved knights of the age in which he lived; and it is a singular fact, that in all the battles in which he had been engaged, he had never lost a drop of blood, till it was in this field drawn by the lance of his first-bom. Transported with rage at the disgrace of the overthrow, he called so loudly and angrily for rescue, that Robert recognised him, eithor by his voice or some of his favourite expletives, and hastily alighting, raised him from the ground in his arms with much tenderness and respect, expressed the deepest concern at the unintentional crime of which he had been guilty, for which he most humbly * Hovwlon. S. Duiiclm. M. Paris. Polydoro Vergil. ' S. Dundiu. MuliucHbury. Hovedcn. M. I'ariB. 84. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. n liij entreated liis foi^veness, and then placing him on his own horse, he brought him safely out of the press.* According to some of the historians of that period, WiUiam, instead of meeting this generous burst of feeling on the part of his penitent son with answering emotions of paternal tenderness, was so infuriated at the humiliation he had received, that he uttered a malediction against him, which all the after sub- missions of Robert could not induce him to retract; while others, equally deserving of o-edit, assert that he was so moved with the proof of Robert's dutiful reverence for his person, and the anxiety he had manifested for his safety, that he presently forgave him, and ever after held him in better respect. Both accoimts may be true in part; for it is veiy possible, that when the conqueror of England found himself defeated by his rebel subjects on his native soil, and his hitherto invincible arm overcome by the prowess of his son, (whose person he had been ^^'^customed to mention with a contemptuous allusion to his inferiority in stature,) he might, while the smart of his wound lasted, have indulged in a strong ebullition of wrathful reproach, not unmixed with execrations, of which it appears that he, in common with all Normans of that era, had an evil habit. But after his passion was abated^ it is certain that he did, in comphance with the entreaties of his queen, consent to receive the submission of his victorious but penitent son.' In this battle William Rufus was severely wounded, as well as his father, and there was a considerable slaughter of the English troops, of which the Conqueror's army was chiefly composed; for Robert had stolen the hearts of the Nonnans while associated in the regent^^ with his mother Matilda, and his father considered it unsafe to oppose him with his native troops. As it was, Robert remained the master of the field, having that day given indubitable proofs of able generalship and great personal valour ; but the perilous chance that had nearly rendered him the murderer of his father made so deep an impression on his mind, that he remained for a time conscience-stricken, which caused him to endeavour, by cm- * 8. DuDelm. M. ParU. ' Urdericiw Vitoliii. MATILDA OF FIJ^NDERS. 8:> ploying the intercession of his mother, to obtain a reconciUation with his offended sire.* Matilda had suffered greatly in mind during the unnatural warfare between her husband and her first-bom, especially after the frightful circumstance of their personal encounter in the field of Archembraye, which was fought in the year 1077. Some feelings of self-reproach might possibly mingle with her uneasiness on this occasion. Her health began to decline, and William was at length moved by her incessant pleading, and the sight of her tears, to write a letter with his own hand to Robert, inviting him "to repair to Rouen, and receive a full pardon for his late rebellion, promising at the same time to grant him every thing that he could expect from the affec- tion of a father, consistently with the duty of a king.'' On the receipt of this welcome letter, Robert delayed not a moment to obey the summons. He came to Rouen, attended only by three servants; he was received by his parents in the most affectionate manner, and a temporary reconciliation was effected between him and his brethren.^ Matilda did not long enjoy the society of this beloved son ; for the Conqueror's affairs in England demanding his presence, he thought proper to carry Robert with him, under the pretence that he required his services in a military capacity,- to defend the northern counties against the aggression of Malcolm king of Scotland, who had once more violated the treaty of pefice. WiUiam's real motive for making Robert the companion of his voyage was, because he considered Matilda was too much devoted to the interest of her first- bom to render it expedient for him to remain with her in Normandy. The yeiu" 1078' was remarkable in this country for the great national survey, which was instituted by the Conqueror for the purpose of ascertaining the precise nature of the lands and tangible property tliroughout England ; so that, says Ingulphus, " there was not a liide of land, water, or wasie, a A ' Ordcricus Vitalis. ' Ibid. Hendorson. ?>?'r'.~'jng to som»- iiiftti)riiin», tiic Hurvoy waa i\()t ^onorally Ix'guu till lUbOt It was not Mly couiplotcd till lObO. — Tiiidal's ^'otca on llapiiu 86 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 'I I if i\ "i but he knew the valuation, the owners and possessors, together with the rents and profits thereof; as also of all cities, towns, villages, hamlets, monasteries, and religious houses ; causing, also, all the people in England to be numbered, their names to be taken, with notice what any one might dispend by the year; their substance, money, and bondmen recorded, with their cattle, and what service they owed to him who held of him in fee : all which was certified upon the oaths of commissioners."* Such is the account given by the learned abbot of Croyland of the particulars of Wilham's " Great Terrar," or " Domes- day-book," PS it was called by the Saxons. The proceedings of the commissioners were inquisitorial enough, no doubt, since they extended to ascertaining how much money every man had in his house, and what was owing to him. That in some instances, too, they were partial in their returns is evident, by the acknowledgment of Ingulphus, when, speaking of his own monastery of Croyland, he says, " The commissioners were so kind and civil, that they did not give in the true value of it :" we may therefore conclude that, whenever the proprietors made it worth their wlule, they were equally obhging elsewhere. Yet it was at the risk of severe punish- ment that any fraud, favour, connivance, or concealment was practised, by either the owners of the property or the com- missioners. Robert of Gloucester, in his rhyming chronicle, gives the following quaint description of the Domesday-book : " Tlicn king William, to learn the worth of his land. Let enquiry stretch throughout all England, How many plough land, and hiden also, Were in every shire, and what they were worth thereto; And the rental of each town, and the waters each one. The worth, and woods eke, and wastes where lived none i By that he wist what he were worth of all England, And set it clearly forth that all might understand. And had it clearly written, and that script ho put, I wis. In the treasury of Westminster, where it still is."' The description or survey of England was written in two books, the Great and Little Domesday -book f and when finished, they were carefully laid up in the king's treasury or ' Ingulphus, ' See the Chapter-house, Westminster. ' The little book oontaiiu only Norfolk, Suflblk. and Ewex. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 87 exchequer, to be consulted on occasion, or, as Polydore Vergil shrewdly observes, " when it was requii-ed to know of how much more wool the Enghsh flocks might be fleeced." Matilda, though residing chiefly in Normandy, had her dis- tinct revenues, perquisites, and privileges as queen of England. She was allowed to claim her aurum regince, or queen-gold ; that is, the tenth part of every fine voluntary that was paid to the crown.^ She received from the city of London smns to famish oil for her lamp, wood for her hearth, and tolls or imposts on goods landed at Queenhithe j with many other immunities, which the queen-consorts in latter days have not ventured to claim. The table at which the queen ht.self sat was furnished with viands at the daily expenditure of forty shillings. Twelve pence each was allowed for the sustenance of her hundred attendants.^ The royal revenues were never richer than in this reign, and they were not charged with any of the expenses attending on the maintenance of the military force of the country, for the king had taken care to impose that burden on such persons among his followers as had been enriched with the forfeited lands of the Anglo-Saxons. Almost every landed proprietor then held his estates on the tenure of performing crown-service, and furnishing a quota of men-at-arms at the king's need or pleasure. The principal or supreme court of judicatm-e in ordinary was called curia regis, or ' king's court,' which was always at the royal residence. There councils were held, and all afikirs of state transacted ; there the throne was placed, and there justice was administered to the subjects by the king, as cliief magistrate.^ We must now return to the personal history of Matilda. The latter years of tliis queen were spent in Nonnandy, where she continued to exercise the functions of government for her royal husband.'' Ordericus Vitahs relates the particulars of a visit which she paid to the monastery of Ouche, to entreat the prayers of the abbot Manier, and his monks, in behalf of * l*rynno'8 Aunun Koginaj. ' T]>e lK)\i8ehol(l-book of Edwiiril IV.. ciiIUmI tho " Black Book," which, cites prcccdctitH from oxtrtMno nntiiiiiity. Miidox'u History of the Excliequer. * Ordericiu ViUilis. 88 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. her second daughter, the lady Constance, the wife of Alan Fergeant, duke of Bretagne. This princess, who was pas- sionately desirous of bringing an heir to Bretagne, was child- less, and, to the grief of her mother, had fallen into a declining state of health. Matilda, in the hope of averting the appre- hended death of the youthful duchess, sought the shrine of St. Eurole, the patron of the monks of Ouche, with p /ers and offerings. She was most honourably received by the learned abbot Manier and his monks, who conducted her into the church. She offered a mark of gold on the altar there, and presented to the shrine of St. Eurole a costly ornament, adorned with precious stones, and she vowed many other goodly gifts in case the saint were propitious. After this the queen -duchess dined in the common refectory, behaving at the same time A/ith the most edifying humihty, so as to leave an agreeable remembrance of her visit on the minds of the brethi'en, of whom the v/orthy chronicler (who relates this circumstance to the honour and glory of his convent) was one.* The visit and cfTerings of Matilda to the shrine of St. Eurole were imavailing to prolong the life of her daughter, for the duchess Constance died in the flower of her age, after an unfruitful marriage of seven years. Her remains were con- veyed to England, and interred in the abbey of St. Edmund's Bury. Like all the children of William and Matilda she had been carefully educated, and is said to have been a princess possessed of great mental acquirements. After her death, Alan duke of Bretagne married again, and had a family by his second wife ; but the rich grant of English lands, with which the Conqueror had dowered his daughter Constance, he was permitted to retain, together with the title of earl of * Ordericiis Vitalis, the most eloquent of all the historians of that period, and the moat minute and faithful in his personal records of the Conqueror, his queen end fimiily, was, nevertheless, bom in England, and of Anglo-Saxcm parentage. He WHS ten years old at the epoch of the Norman invasion, when for bettor security he was, to use his own language, " conveyed with weeping eyes from his native country, to be educated in Normandy at the convent of Ouche," which finally l)ecame so dear to him, that all the affections of his lieart a])poar to have been centriHi within its bounds. In his Chronicle of the Norman Sovereigns, ho sometimes makes digressions of a hundred pages to descuut on St. Eurole. aiid the merits of the bretlux'n of Ouche. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 89 Richmond, which was long borne by the dukes of Bretagne, his successors. The grief which the early death of her daughter caused Matilda, was succeeded by feelings of a more painful nature, in consequence of a fresh diflference between her royal husband and her beloved son, Robert. Some historians' assert that this was occasioned by the refusal of the prince to many the young and lovely heiress of earl Waltheof, which greatly displeased his father, who was desirous of conciUating his English subjects by such an alliance, and, at the same time, of making some atonement for the murder of the unfortunate Saxon chief, which always appears to have been a painful subject of reflection to him. About this time, Matilda, hearing that a German hermit, of great sanctity, was possessed of the gift of prophecy, sent to entreat his prayers for her jarring son and husband, and requested his opinion as to what would be the result.^ The hermit gave a very affectionate reception to the envoys of the queen, but demanded three days before he delivered his reply to her questions. On the third day he sent for the messen- gers, and gave his answer in the following strain of oracular allegory. " Return to your mistress,^' said he, " and tell her I have prayed to God in her behalf, and the Most High has made known to me in a dream the things she desires to learn. I saw in my vision a beautiful pasture, covered with grass and flowers, and a noble charger feeding therein. A numerous herd gathered roimd about, eager to enter and share the feast, but the fiery charger would not permit them to approach near enough to crop the flowers and herbage. But, alas ! the majestic steed, in the midst of his pride and courage, died, his terror departed with him, and a poor silly steer appeared in his place, as the guardian of the pasture. Then the throng of meaner animals, who had hitherto feared to approach, rushed ' Henderson, in his Life of the Conqueror, states that Robert was much taken with the beauty of the young Saxon lady, but that his regard was by no means of an honourable nature ; and his conduct to her displeased the Conqueror so much, that, to punish his son for uisults offered to his beautiM ward, he forliad hlut tile court. ' Ordoricus Yitalia. I 90 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. ill in, and trampled the flowers and grass beneath then* leet, and that which they coidd not devour they defiled and destroyed. I will explain the mystery couched in this parable. The steed is WiUiam of Normandy, the conqueror of England, who, by his wisdom, courage, and power, keeps the surrounding foes of Normandy in awe. Robert is the dull, inactive beast who will succeed him ; and then those baser sort of animals, the envious princes, who have long watched for the opportmiity of attacking this fair, fruitful pasture, Normandy, will overrun the land, and destroy all the prosperity which its present sovereign has estabUshed. Illustrious lady, if, after hearing the words of the vision in which the Lord has vouchsafed to reply to my prayers, you do not labour to restore the peace of Normandy, you will henceforth behold nothing but misery, the death of your royal spouse, the ruin of all your race, and the desolation of your beloved country."' This clever apo- logue, in which some sagacious advice was impUed, Matilda took for a prediction ; and this idea, together vdth the increas- ing dissensions in her family, pressed heavily on her mind, and is supposed to have occasioned the hngering iUness which slowly, but surely, conducted her to the tomb. The evidence of a charter signed by William king of England, Matildis the queen, earl Robert, son of the king, earl WiDiam, son of the Idng, and earl Henry, son of the king, proves that a meeting had taken place between these illustrious personages in the ye^ir 1082. The charter recites that " WiUiam, king of England and Normandy, and his wife Matildis, daughter of Baldwin duke of Flanders, and niece of Henry king of France, conceded to the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen, for the good of their souls, the manors of Nailsworth, Felstede, Pinbiuy, and other lands in England."^ The restitution of the said lands to their lawful owners or their heirs, would certainly have been a more acceptable work in the sight of the God of mercy and justice, than the oblation of wrong and robbery which was thus dedicated to his service by the mighty Norman conqueror and his dying consort. Nailsworth being part of the manor of Minching- * Ordcricufl VitiUis. ^ A copy of this charter is in the Bibliotheque, Paris. MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 91 r ieet, and destroyed. The steed i, who, by ing foes of beast who limals, the ortunity of 11 overrun ts present 3r hearing ichsafed to le peace of ut misery, ? race, and clever apo- d, Matilda be increas- her mind, ness which 1 king of the king, on of the veen these er recites d his wife d niece of the Holy manors of ngland/*^ lowners or able work than the dicated to his dying ^inching- ^que, Paris. hampton, in Gloucestershire, was a portion of the spoils of the unfortunate Brihtric Meaw, which Matilda, in the last year of her life, thus transferred to the church, in the delusive idea of atoning for the crime by which she obtained the temporal goods of him who had rejected her youthful love. Matilda^s last illness was attended with great depression of spirits. She endeavom*ed to obtain comfort by redoubhng her devotional exercises and alms. She confessed her sins frequently, and with bitter tears. It is to be hoped that a feeling of true penitence was mingled with the aflfliction of the queen, who, at the highest pinnacle of earthly grandeur, afforded a melancholy exemplification of the vanity and in- sufficiency of the envied distinctions with which she was sur- rounded, and was dying of a broken heart.^ As soon as WiUiam, who was in England, was informed of the danger of his beloved consort, he hastily embarked for Normandy, and arrived at Caen in time to receive her last farewell.^ After Matilda had received the consolations of rehgion, she expired on the 2nd of November, or, according to some his- torians, the 3rd of that month, anno 1083, in the fifty-second year of her age, having borne the title of queen of England seventeen years, and duchess of Normandy upwards of thirty- one. Her body was carried to the convent of the Holy Trinity at Caen, which she had built and munificently en- dowed. The corpse of the queen-duchess was reverentially received, at the portal of the church, by a numerous proces- sion of bishops and abbots, conducted within the choir, and deposited before the high altar. Her obsequies were cele- brated with great pomp and solemnity by the monks and clerks, and attended by a vast concourse of the poor, to whom she had been throughout hfe a generous benefactress, " and frequently," says Ordericus Vitahs, " reUeved with bounteous alms, in the name of her Redeemer." A magnificent tomb was raised to her memory by her sorrowing lord, adorned with precious stones and elaborate sculptm'e ; and her epitaph, in Latin verse, was emblazoned » O rmencus vitaiis. • MalmeBbury. Hovedon. Iiigulphus. Ordericus Vitaiis. ll\l I I 92 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. thereon in letters of gold^ setting forth in pompous language the lofty birth and noble qualities of the illustrious dead. The following is a translation of the quaint monkish rhymes, which defy the imitative powers of modem poetry : — " Here rests within this fair and stately tomh^ Matilda, scion of a regal line; The Flemish duke her sire,^ and Adelais Her mother, to great Bohert king of France Daughter, and sister to his royal heir. In wedlock to our mighty William joined. She built this holy temple, and endowed With lands and goodly gifts. She, the trui friend Of piety and soother of distress. Enriching others, indigent herself. Reserving all her treasures for the poor; And, by such deeds as these, she merited To be partaker of eternal life: To which she pass'd November 2, 1083." Matilda's will, which is in the register of the abbey of the Holy Trinity of Caen,'* faUy bears out the assertion of her epitaph, touching her poverty ; since, from the items in this curious and interesting record, it is plain that the first of our Anglo-Norman queens had little to leave in the way of personal property : the bulk of her landed possessions was already settled on her son Henry. " I give," says the royal testatrix " to the abbey of the Holy Trinity my tunic, worked at Winchester by Alderet's wife ; and the mantle embroidered with gold, which is in my chamber, to make a cope. Of my two golden girdles, I give that which is ornamented with emblems, for the purpose of suspending the lamp before the great altar. I give my large candelabra, made at St. Lo, my crown, my sceptre, my cups in their cases, another cup made in England, with all my horse-trappings, and all my vessels ; and lastly, I give the lands of Quetchou and Cotentin, except those which I may already have disposed of in ray lifetime, with two dwellings in England ; and I have made all these bequests with tlie consent of my husband." It is amusing to trace the feminine feeling with regard to ' Baldwin, Matilda's father, was the descendant of ' the six Ibrtat^rs,' as tlie first sovereigns of Flanders were called. ' Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. I J )its language J dead. The lymes, which ad abbey of the ;rtion of her items in this le first of our ay of personal Iready settled itrix " to the Winchester by gold, which ilden girdles, |r the purpose ve my large , my cups ith all my I give the hich I may |wo dwellings !sts with tlie ith regard to kbre3tiV;f^_,~ ij Miilmesbury. Ordcricus Vitalk. *uCtuCm€( jniav. iM^or. h2 Mnlincsbury. Iligdon. 100 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. t;l 1 set all the Saxon prisoners at liberty whom he had detained in his Norman prisons ; among them were Morcar, and Ulnoth the brother of Harold, who had remained in captivity from his childhood, when he was given in hostage by earl Godwin to Edward the Confessor. The heart of the dying monarch being deeply touched with remorse, he confessed that he had done Morcar much wrong : he bitterly bewailed the blood he had shed in England, and the desolation and woe Ive had caused in HampsiiU'e for the sake of planting the New Forest, protesting "that having so misused that fair and beautiful land, he dared not appoint a successor to it, but left the disposal of that matter in the hands of God.'" He had, however, taken some pains, by writing a letter to Lanfranc expressive of his earnest wish that WiUiam Rufus should succeed him in his regal dignity, and to secure the crown of England to this his favourite son, — ^for ivhom he called as soon as he had con- cluded his death-bed confessions, — and sealing the letter with his own seal, he put it into the hands of the prince, bidding him hasten to England with all speed, and deUver it to the arch- bishop, blessed him With a farewell kiss, and dismissed him. When the Conqueror had settled his temporal affairs, he caused himself to be removed to Hermentrude, a pleasant village near Rouen,' that he might be more at liberty to pre- pare himself for death. On the 9th of September the awful change which he awaited took place. Hearing the sound of the great bell in the metropolitan church of St. Gervase, near Rouen, "William, raising his exhausted frame from the sup- porting pillows, asked " What it meant?" ' One of his atten- dants replying "that it then rang prime to Our Lady," the djHiig monarch, lifting his eyes to heaven, and spreading abroad his hands, exclaimed, " I commend myself to that blessed lady, Mary the mother of God, that she by her holy intercession may reconcile me to her most clear son, our Lord Jesus Christ;" and with these words he expired, in the sixty -fourth year of his age, 1087, after a reign of fifty-two years in Normandy, and t^venty-one in England. m h * See William's dpnth-^^^ confe™.!OR in Speed. • Ortlericus VitaliH. Moluicsbury. » f.-'.-i. — - i'.uuiiii:r. I MATILDA OP FLANDERS. 101 His eldest son, Robert, was absent in Germany at the time of his death ;* William was on his voyage to England ; Henry, who had taken charge of his obsequies, suddenly departed on some self-interested business j and all the great oificers of the court having dispersed themselves, some to oflfer their homage to Eobert, and others to WiUiam, the inferior servants of the household, with some of their rapacious confederates, took the opportunity of plundering the house where their sovereign had just breathed his last of all the money, plate, wearing apparel, hangings, and precious ftimiture; they even stripped the person of the royal dead, and left his body naked upon the floor.' Every one appeared struck with consternation and dismay, and neither the proper officers of state nor the sons of the deceased king issuing the necessary orders respecting the funeral, the remains of the Conqueror w^re left whoUy neg- lected, tiU Herlewin, a poor country knight, — ^but in all proba- bility the same Herlewin who married his mother Arlotta, — undertook to convey the royal corpse to Caen, at his own cost, for interment in the abbey of St. Stephen, where it was met by prince Henry and a procession of monks.' Scarcely, however, had the burial rites commenced, when there was a terrible alarm of fire in that quarter of the town; and as there was great danger of the devouring element communicating to the cloisters of St. Stephen, the monks, who were far more concerned for the preservation of their stately abbey than for the lifeless remains of the munificent founder, scampered out of the church, without the sUghtest regard to decency or the remonstrances of prince Henry and the faithful Herlewin. The example of the ecclesiastics was followed by the secular attendants, so that the hearse of the mighty William was in a manner wholly deserted till the conflagration was suppressed.* The monks then re-entered the holy fane and proceeded with the solemnity, if so it might be called; but the interruptions and accidents with which it had been marked were not yet ended, for when the funeral sermon was finished, the stone ' Ordericus Vitalis. IJrompton » Ibid. Mmiilfwlniry. 4 Ibid. opceo. ( » 103 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. '« r^ eoflfin set in the grave which had been dug in the chancel between the choir and the altar, and the body ready to be laid therein/ Anselm Fitz- Arthur, a Norman gentleman, stood forth and forbad the interment : " This spot," said he, " was the site of my father's house, which this dead dulce took violently from him, and here, upon part of mine inheritance, founded this church. This ground I therefore challenge, and I charge ye all, as ye shall answer it at the great and dreadful day of judgment, that ye lay not the bones of the despoiler on the hearth of my fathers."* The eflfect of this bold appeal of a sohtary individual, was an instant pause in the burial rite of the deceased sovereign. The claims of Anselm Fitz-Arthur were examined and his rights recognised by prince Henry, who prevailed upon him to accept sixty shillings as the price of the grave, and to suffer the interment of his royal father to proceed, on the condition of his pledging himself to pay the ftdl value of the rest of the land.^ The compensation was stipulated between Anselm Fitz-Arthur find prince Henry, standing on either side the grave, on the verge of which the imburied remains of the Conqueror rested, while the agreement was ratified in the presence of the mourners and assistant priests and monks, whereby Henry promised to pay, and Fitz-Arthur to receive, one hundred pounds of silver, as the purchase of the ground on which William had, thirty-five years previously, wrongfidly founded the abbey of St. Stephen's, to purchase a dispensa- tion from the pope for his marriage with his cousin Matilda of Flanders. The bargain having been struck, and the pay- ment of the sixty shillings earnest-money (for the occupation of the seven feet of earth required as the last abode of the conqueror of England) being tendered by the prince and received by Fitz-Arthur, — strange interlude as it was in a royal funeral, — the obsequies were suffered to proceed. The Saxon chroniclers have taken evident pleasure in enlarging on nil the mischances and humiliations which befell the ancon- scious clay of their great national adversary in its pjissage to ' Speed. • EaduKT. Malmesliurj'. Ordericus Vitnlig, • Ordericus Vitalis. M. Paris. MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 103 the tomb; yet, surely, so singular a chapter of accidents was never yet recorded as occurred to the corpse of this mighty sovereign, who died in the plenitude of his power. WiUiam of Normandy was remarkable for his personal strength, and for the majestic beauty of his countenance. It has been said of him, that no one but himself could bend his bow, and that he could, when riding at full speed, discharge either arblast or long-bow with unerring aim.* His forehead Was high and bald, his aspect stem and commanding; yet he could, when it pleased him to do so, assume such winning sweetness in his looks and mam.i( r as could scarcely be resisted; but when in anger, no man could meet the terror of his eye.' Like Saul, he was, from the shoulders upwards, taller than the rest of his subjects ; before he became too corpulent, his figure was finely proportioned. The loftiness of stature which contemporary chroniclers have ascribed to WiUiam the Conqueror was fully confirmed by the post mortem examination of his body, which was made by the bishop of Bayeux in the year 1542, when, prompted by a strong desiie to behold the remains of this great sovereign, he obtained leave to open his tomb.' On removing the stone cover, the body, which was corpulent, and exceeding in stature the tallest man then known, appeared as entire as when it was first buried. Within the tomb lay a plate of copper gilt, on which was engraved an inscription in Latin verse.* The bishop, who was greatly surprised at finding the body in such perfect preservation, caused a painting to be executed of the royal remains, in the state in which they then appeared, ^ Robei't of Qloucester. W. Malmesbury. ' W. Malmeebuiy. * Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. * Thoinaa, archbishop of York, waa the author of the Latin verse, of which the following lines present a close translation, not unpoetical in its antique simplicity t " He who the sturdy Normans ruled, and over England reigned, And stoutly won and strongly kept what he had so obtained ; And did the swords of those of Mtune by force bring under awe, And made them under his command live subject to his law ; This gi'eat king William lieth here entombed in little grave,— So great a lonl so small a hoiise sufBceth him to have. Wlien Phoebus in the Virgin's lap his circled course applied. And twenty-three desrrees had past, e'en at that time he died." 104 MATILDA OF FLANDERS. by the best artist in Caen, and caused it to be hung up on the abbey wall, opposite to the monument. The tomb was then carefully closed, but in 1562, when the Calvinists under Chastillon took Caen, a party of the rapacious soldiers forced it open, in hope of meeting with a treasure; but finding nothing more than the bones of the Conqueror wrapped in red taffeta, they threw them about the church in great derision. Viscount Falaise, having obtained from the rioters one of the thigh- bones, it was by him deposited in the royal grave. Monsieur le Bras, who saw this bone, testified that it was longer by the breadth of his four fingers than that of the tallest man he had ever seen.* The fanatic spoilers also entered the church of the Holy Trinity, threatening the same violence to the remains of Matilda. The entreaties and teai-s of the abbess and her nuns had no effect on men, who considered the destruction of church ornaments and monumental sculpture a service to God quite sufficient to atone for the sacrilegious violence of defacing a temple consecrated to his worship, and rifling the sepulchres of the dead. They threw down the monument, and broke the effigies of the queen which lay thereon. On opening the grave in which the royal corpse was deposited, one of the party observing that there was a gold ring set with a fine sapphire on one of the queen's fingers, took it off, and, with more gallantry than might have been expected from such a person, presented it to the abbess, madame Anna de Montmorenci, who afterwards gave it to her father, the constable of France, when he attended Charles IX. to Caen, in the year 1563.* In 1642 the monks of St. Stephen collected the bones of their royal patron, "William of Normandy, and built a plain altar-shaped tomb over them, on the spot where the original monument stood m the chancel. The nuns of the Holy Trinity, with equal zeal, caused the broken fragments of ' The picture of the remMns, which bad been painted by the order of tlie bishop of Bayeux, fell into the hands of Peter Ildo, the gaoler of Caen, who was one of the spoilers, and he converted one part into a table, and the other into n cupboard door ; which proves that this portrait was not painted on canvas, but, as usual, on wood. Some years after, these curious relics were discovered and re- claimed by M. le Bras, in whose possession they remained till his death. — Ducarel's Norman Antiquities. ^ DucarcL MATILDA OF FLANDERS. 105 ig up on )mb was ts under forced it nothing I taffeta, i^iscount e thigh- ionsieur nger by man he durch of remains and her lotion of sto God defacing pulchres d broke Qing the lie party sapphire ;h more person, ici, who ;e, when Matilda's statue and monument to be restored, and placed over her grave, near the middle of the choir, on a tomb of black and white marble, three feet hifr\ and six long, in the shape of a coffin, surrounded with iron spikes, and hung with ancient tapestry.' The restored monument of Matilda remained undisturbed till nearly the close of the last century, when the French repubUcans paid one of their destructive visits to the church of the Holy Trinity at Caen, and, among other outrages against taste and feeling, swept away this memorial of its royal foundress f but while a single arch of that majestic and time-honoured fane, the church of the Holy Trinity, survives, the first of our Anglo-Norman queens, Matilda of Flanders, will require no other monument. ^ DitcaNl. 2 Ibid. )ones of a plain original Holy ents of ler of tlie who WiUB ler into a tivas, but, id and re- Ducarel's i M* )i: MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, QUEEN OF HENRY I. !■! CHAPTER I. Ancestry of Matilda — Direct descent from Alfred — Margaret Atheling her mother — Marries the king of Scotland — Matilda's birth — Her godfather — Education — First suitor — Her father invades England — His death — Her mother's gi-ief— Pious death — Revolution in Scotland — Edgar Atheling carries the royal family to England — Princesses Matilda and Mary — Placed in Romsey abbey — Their aunt, abbess Christina — Matilda's brother Edgar — Restored to the throne of Scotland — The Atheling a crusader — Matilda at Wilton-abbey — Her literary education— Attachment between Matilda and Henry Bcauclerc — Her other suitors — Early life of Henry — Education at Cambridge — Surname — Literary work by him — Legacy at the Conqueror's death — Poverty of Henry — Aflronted by Matilda's suitor, earl Warren — Courtship of Matilda — Harsh rule of lady Christina — Henry seizes the English throne — Asks Matilda's hand — Opposition of her aunt— Coimcil of the church — Matilda's evidence — Her scruples — Importimed by Anglo-Saxons — Consents — Address to her by Anselm — Consent of the people — Her marriage and coronation — Saxon laws restored. When we consider the perils to which the representatives of our ancient hne of sovereigns, Edgar Athehng and his sisters, were exposed during the usurpation of Harold and the Norman reigns of terror, it almost appears as if an overruUng Providence had guarded these descendants of the great Alfred, for the purpose of continuing the hneage of that patriot king on the throne of these realms, through the marriage of Henry I. with the daughter of Margaret Atheling, Matilda of Scotland. This princess, the subject of our present biography, is dis- tinguished among the many illustrious females that have worn the crown-matrimonial of England by the title of ' the good queen / a title which, eloquent in its simphcity, briefly implies ^ I •et Atheling her Her godfather — ■His death — Her [• Atheling carries Placed in Romsey rar — Restored to t Wilton-abbey — enry Bcauclerc — dge — Surname — verty of Henry — Matilda — Harsh —Asks Matilda's ilda's evidence — Idress to her by ironation — Saxon J ■rl Ji ,: sentatives of id his sisters, the Normau g Providence [red, for the king on the enry I. with )f Scotland, phy, is dis- it have worn f ' the good •ieflv rm-nhps '■W'i^''%, ■■•I r ■''^'i ^ ''J ; II I! . !,; ! MATIIJH ^jf SCOTLAND, . .:ij:!S\ (;». H?W«iKV I. r.v'wtr;.. '-• *f3ti.kl»-]>ii;>-5t 4-.«;r Matiida av Wiltt.n-ttbVn'y — ;',.,:j ■■'■'.(.■is.-v' -,^v...';^sjivt .t-iK.-, .:><-:'** Wa!t,. /■& I ■ H<^-(;«- - t^urT>U'''iV*' ^;■%V!li/?s --.SuriiJime — ».■■»■ ;'<«^rt., j.L^'- f»se.%*; AS ;4«; '."■•ii'.'«^*^\r »'i!^'*--'* •.tkA'=v'1y .'■1' Hoiu-y — .«.«'•. *!V(>r\-i<> *■«" Sastf^is^t; kh^.'' <.< Matilda— Tlar-il. n'if ■.!' W-H t'«j-«3' -<»,»-• . -i'- i' wif. '-• '.i-j«"fi*>- A'^^x Mfitilila'^ '• i-.-i.t ■.■'.*;. «' '.!K.i4».-3iif-«-~-Addrens to her by . i:.-^-'' !^*- i<»rTuige and cuinjm^i'jn-- -SiVtoo "^^Vh'.k w*? t^jfiK'* '.i^j *hr p,''*!^ 10 v»hic!i ttie represoiitativeci ol our «ir.iitTs<*d *-?»'»'::<:i?ui; ^ of \]iv ^.vA AhVe}' lleim 1. wit>. i]h ilaif.ijhter ol' Min^vrft AtJiolin.', \latilda of Scotlan*! Thi«j princetis, tl'.c rabj'.! ; of cur prf^riit biv)gTa|)hv', ,is di tvTt^iiiftlu.d am»^ii^ ihr in?u.v illuKlnous ^I'mudcs that have, >voi- thf t Alhtjing her Hk^t {rmll'ithtT-- [lis .I-atU " Her Atlitliiig wrrittf 'luad in iJMnifrOj' -^r He»turt'd t:- . Wilton-ubln'Y — ii.^% "Sunmme — i^iiv :,f lleTU-y — • AkIs MatiutH^ idrcKn to her hy id hh sister.^-. tbe Norai.'ii Si ProvitU'iKv iVe(], lor i!k king on ihi leiin J. with of Stotlar)^' ipliy, js (h at have, vror )f ' \-\\e ;^Oi.. I).;. Pen;''.' i\i!'rii' '. \\n preserved by Fordun, and Is frequentlj cited by sir David Dalrymple. — Nicholson. Henry. 110 MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. Matilda, the subject of this memoir, was her eldest daughter, and was probably bom in the year 1079. This we infer from the remarkable circumstance, of the elder brother of her future husband, Robert Courthose, being her godfather.* Malcolm Canmore, her father, invaded England in that year, and Robert of Normandy was, or his reconciliation with his father, William tie Conqueror, sent with a mihtary force to repel this northern attack. Robert^ finding his forces inade- quate to maintain successfully a war of aggression, entered into a negotiation wiili the Scottish monarch, which ended in a friendly treaty. Malcolm renewed his homage for Cum- berland ; and Robert, who, whateve r his faults might be as a private character, was one of the most courteous knights and pohshed gentlemen of the age in which he lived, finally cemented the auspicious amity which he had established between his royal sire and the warHke husband of the heiress presumptive of the Saxon line of kings, by becoming the sponsor of the infant princess MatUda. Some historians assert that the name of the httle princess was originally Editha, and that it was, out of compliment to the Norman prince her god- father changed to Matilda, the name of his beloved mother ; the contemj^,. '•ary chronicler, Ordericus Vitalis, says, Matildem, qua prius dida est Editha : ' Matilda, whose first name was Edith/' Matilda the Good received her earliest lessons of virtue and piety from her illustrious mother, and of learning from the worthy Turgot, "^he preceptor of the royal children of Scot- land. While flatilda was very young, there appears to have been an atter ipt on the part, either of the queen her mother, or her aunt Christina Atheling, the celebrated abbess of Romsey, to consecrate her to the church, or at least to give her tender mind a conventual bias, greatly to the displeasure of the king her father ; who once, as Matilda herself testified, when she was brought into his presence dressed in a nun's veil, snatched it from her head in a great passion, and indig- nantly tore it in pieces, observing at the same time to Alan duke of Bretagne, who stood by, " that he intended to bestow i Sir -T- TToviifni»/1 WilHarn of Malmeshory. ' See Dr. Liiigord's learned note, p. 126, vol. ii. cd. 4. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. Ill daughter, infer from er of her godfather.' that year, 1 with his y force to ces inade- II, entered L ended in for Cmn- ht be as a nights and ;d, finally 3stabhshed the heiress 3ming the ians assert Iditha, and e her god- other; the ildem, qua as Edith." virtue and from the of Scot- 's to have ir mother, abbess of it to give ispleasure f testified, I a nun's md indig- c to Alan to bestow her in marriage, and not to devote her to a cloister/*' This circumstance, yuuiig as she was, appears to have made a very deep inpressicn on the mind of the httle princess, and pro- bably assisted in strengthening her determination, in after years, never to complete the profession of which she was, at one period of her life, compelled to assume the semblance, Alan duke of Bretagne, to whom king Malcolm addressed this observation, was the widower of William the Conqueror's daughter Constance ; and though there was a great disparity of jese^ between binn and Matilda, it appears certain that the object of his visit to the Scottish court was to obtain her for his second wife ;' and that was one of the unsuitable matches to which we shall find that Matilda afterwards alluded. Matilda's uncle, Edgar Atheling, became resident at the court of her father and mother for some time, in the year 1091 ; and it is a remarkable fact, that WiUiam Rufus and Malcolm joined in appointing him as arbiter of peace between England and Scotland, which were then engaged in a furious and devastating war.' Thus placed in the most singular and romantic position that ever was sustained by a disinherited heir, Edgar conducted himself with such zeal and impaitiality as to give satisfaction to both parties, and a pacification was concluded, which afforded a breathing time of two years to the harassed people of this island. After a reconciliation with William Rufus, which was never afterwards broken by the most trying circumstances, Edgar returned to the court of his favourite friend and compamon, Bobert of Normandy. The dangerous illness of Wilham Rufus, at Gloucester, tempted king Malcolm Canmore to invade his dominions, in the year 1093, for the purpose, as he said, of revenging the insults he had received from tlie Anglo-Norman sovi^reign ; his real object was, probably, to take advantage of Rufus's impopularity with all classes, and to assert the rival title of the descendants of the great Alfred, with whom he was now so closely united. According to Hector Boethius and Buchanan, Malcolm was killed at the siege of Alnwick-castle, by the treachery of the ' Eadmor. • Eadmer. • Broinpton. Hovodon. Y-Podigma of Neustria. n urciUa 112 MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. § : besieged, who, being reduced to the last extremity, offered to surrender, if the Scottish king would ceive the keys in person. Malcobn of course acceded to this condition,' and coming to the gates, was there met by a knight bearing the keys on the point of a lance, which he offered to the kiii^ on liis knee ; but when Malcolm stooped to receive them, he treacherously thrust the point of the lance through the bars of his vizor into his eye, and gave liim a mortal wound. This was heavy news to pour into the anxious ear of the •widowed queen, who then lay on her death-bed, attended by her daughters Matilda and Mary. The particulars of this sad scene are thus related by an eye-witness, the faithftil Turgot. Diuing a short LLiterval of ease, queen Margaret devoutly re- ceived the communion. Soon after, her anguish of body returned with redoubled violence j she stretched herself on the couch, and calmly awaited the moment of her dissolution. Cold, and in the agonies of death, she ceased not to put up her supplications to Heaven in the touching words of the Miserere : " Have mercy upon me, O God, according to the multitude of thy tender mercies ; blot out mine iniquities ; make me to hear joy and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken may rejoice. Cast me not away from thy pre- sence, and take not thy holy Spirit from me; restore unto me the joy of thy salvation. The sacrifices of God ai'e a broken spirit; a broken and a contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise."' At that moment her young son, prince Edgar, returned from the disastrous Enghsh expedition, and approached her coucli. "How fares it with the king and my Edward?" asked the dying queen. The youthful prince stood mourn- fully silent. " I know all — I know all," cried his mother j ** yet, by this holy cross I adjure you speak out the worst." As she spoke she presented to the view of her son that cele- brated 'blacA cross' which she had brought with her from England, as the most precious possession she derived from her royal Saxon ancestors." * Malmesbury. ' Turgot. * Camit'iiers' History of Scutiand, vol. i. pp. 312-353. The English viewed the po68CH8ion of this jewel by the royal fiunily of Scotland with great displeosuni: MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 113 , offered to le keys in dition/ and bearing the ;he king; on ; them, he ^h the bars 3und. ear of the ttended by of this sad iful Turgot. levoutly re- 3h of body herself on dissolution. to put up )rds of the ding to the iniquities ; which thou m thy pre- estore unto God ai'e a God, thou ir, returned cached her Edward ?" od mouni- lis mother ; he worst." that cele- her from d from her L^nglish viewed Ekt (lispleasuroj 1 / 1 " Your husband ajad eldest son are both slain," replied the prince. Lifting her eyes and hands towards heaven, she said, "Praise and blessing be to thee, Almighty God, that thou hast been pleased to make me endure to bitter anguish in the hoiu* of my departure, thereby, as I trust, to purify me in some measure from the corruption of my sins. And thou, Lord Jesus Christ ! who, througx^ the will of the Father, hast given life to the world by thy death, oh, deliver me I" While pronouncing the words " deUver me," she expired. The reputation of her virtues, and the report that miracles had been wrought at her tomb, caused her name to be enrolled in the catalogue of saints by the church of Rome. Whatever may be thought of the miracles, it is a pleasure to find the following enlightened passage, from the pen of an ecclesiastic of the eleventh century : — " Others," says Turgot, " may admire the iadications of sanctity which miracles afford. 1 much more admire in Margaret the works of mercy. Such signs (namely, miracles) are common to the evil and the good; but the works of true piety and charity are pecuhar to the good. With better reason, therefore, ought we to admire the deeds of Margaret, which made her saintly, than her miracles, had she performed any." To this great and good man did the dying Margaret consign the spiritual guardiaui-hip of her two joung daughters, the princesses MatUda and Mary, and her younger sons. Turgot has preserved the words with which she gave him this im- portant charge ; they will strike an answering chord on the heart of every mother. " Farewell!" she said; " my life draws to a clcse, but you may survive me long. To you I commit the charge of my children. Teach them, above all things, to love and fear God; and if any of them should be permitted to it was enclosed in a black case, from whence it was called the black cross. The cross itself was of ^old, and set with large diamonds. The figi^re of the Saviour was exquisitely carved in ivory. After the death of Margaret it was deposited on the high altar of Ounfennline. When Edwara I. kept court there, he seized on this cross as one of the English crown-jewels, and carried it into England. IJobcrt Bruce uo vehemently insisted on its restoration, that queen Isabella yielded it on the pacification during her regciuy in 1327; but itj^ surrender I'xiisporrttijd tlie E'.iglish more than tlio most flagrant of he. nnsdecds. — See her biography. VOL. I, I 1 ■i ■J? m ' t :!:( k 114 MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. ■ ! attain td the height of earthly grandeur, oh ! then, in an especial manner, be to them a father and a guide. Admonish, and if need be, reprove them, lest they should be swelled with the pride of momentary glory, and through covetousness, or by reason of the prosperity of this world, offend their Creator, and forfeit eternal life. This, in the presence of Him who is now Qur only witness, I beseech you to promise and perform."' Adversity was soon to try these youthful scions of royalty with her touchstone; and of the princess Matilda, as well as her saintly mother, it may justly be said, — " Stem, rugged nurse, thy rigid lore With patience many a year she bore.'* Donald Bane, (the brother of Malcolm Cunmore,) soon after the disastrous defeat and death of Matilda's father and eldest brother, seized the throne of Scotland, and commanded all the Enghsh exiles, of whatsoever degree, to quit the kingdom, under pain of death.' Edgar Atheling, Matilda's uncle, then conveyed to England the orphan family of his sister, the queen of Scotland, consisting of five yoimg princes, and two princesses.^ He supported Matilda, her sister and brothers, who were all minors, privately, from his own means. They were in con- siderable personal danger, from the accusation of one of the knights at the Enghsh court, who told WiUiam Rufiis that * Queen Margaret was buried at Dunfermline. Her body was disinterred at the Beformation, and the head is now preserved in a silver case at Douay, where the historian Carruthers declares he saw it, at the Scotch college. It was in extraordinary preservation, with a quantity of fine hair, fair in colour, still upon it. This was in 1785. — History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 813. ' Carruthers' History of Scotland, vol. i. p. 316. ' Hardyng, in his rhyming Chronicle, thus quaintly enumerates the posterity of Margaret Atheling, (see sir Henry Ellis's edition) : — " Edward, Dmikan, Edgar, Alixander the g-ay. And David also, (that kings were all tliey say, Eache after other of Scotlande throughout,) "Whose mother is now St. Margrete without doubt. At Dunfermlyn shrined and canonized ; By whom Malcolyn a daughter had also. King Henry's wife the first, full well avised Queen Maude, thafs right well loved England through. Those crosses fair and royal, an men go Through all England, she ma^lc at her expense. And divers good orders through her providence." MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, 115 an especial aish, and if id with the less, or by creator, and who is now form/'^ I of royalty as well as soon after and eldest manded all e kingdom, uncle, then sister, the js, and two ho were all ?re in con- one of the Rnfus that disinterred at Douay, where e. It was in our, still upon 5 the posterity the Saxon prince had brought into England, and was raising up, a family of competitors for the English crown. A friend of Edgar, named Godwin, challenged and slew the calumniator; and William Rufus, supposing Providence had decided in favour of the innocent, treated Edgar and his adopted family with kindness and friendship. The princess Matilda and Mary were placed by their uncle in the nunnery of Romsey, of which his surviving sister, Christina, was abbess; for the princes he obtained an honourable reception at the coiui; of William Rufus, who eventually sent him at the head of an army to Scotland, with which the Athcliiig succeeded in reestablishing the yoimg king Edgar, eldest brother of Matilda, on the t'lrone of his ancestors. Ordericrs Vitalis confirms, in a great measure, the state- ments of Turgot ; and, after relating the death of queen Mar- garet, adds, " She had sent her two daughters, Edith (Matilda) and Mary, to Christina her sister, who was a religieuse of the abbey of Romsey, to be instructed by her in holy writ. These princesses were a long time pupils among the nuns. They were instructed by them, not only in the art of reading, but in thd observance of good manners; and these devoted maidens, as they approached the age of womanhood, waited for the con- solation of God. As we have said, they were orphans, deprived of both their parents, separated from their brothers, and far from the protecting care of kindred or friends. They had no home or hope but the cloister, and yet, by the mercy of God, they were not professed as nuns. They were destined by the Disposer of all earthly events for better things.^' Camden proves that the abbey of Wilton, ever since the profession of the royal saint Editha,* was the place of nurture and education for the princesses of the Anglo-Saxon reigning family. This abbey of black Benedictine nuns was founded by king Alfred, and since his days it had been usual to elect a superior of his lineage. Wilton-abbey had been refoimded by the queen Editha, consort to Edward the Confessor.' While that monarch was building Westminster-abbey, hia * Daughter of Edcrar the Peaceahlo. ' Camden^ I 2 116 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 'J «, JV' 11 i queen employed her revenues in changing the nunnery of Wilton from a wooden edifice into one of stone. The abbey of Romsey was likewise a royal foundation, generally governed by an abbess of the blood-royal. Chris- tina is first mentioned as abbess of Romsey in Hampshire, and afterwards as superior of the Wilton convent. As both be- longed to the order of black Benedictines, this transfer was not difficult; but chroniclers do not mention when it was effected, simply stating the fact that the Scottish princess first dwelt at Romsey, yet when she grew up she was resident at Wilton-abbey, \mder the superintendence of the abbess Christina her aunt. Matilda thus became an inhabi- tant of the same abode where the royal virgins of her race had always received their education.* It was tlie express desire of the queen, her mother, who survived that request but a few hours, that she should be placed under the care of the lady Christina at Romsey. While in these Enghsh convents, the royal maid was com- pelled to assume the thick black veil of a votaress,^ as a protection from the insults of the lawless Norman nobles. The abbess Christina, her aunt, who was exceedingly desirous of seeing her beautiful niece become a nun professed, treated her very harshly if she removed this cumbrous and incon- venient envelope, which was composed of coarse black cloth or serge ; some say it was a tissue of horse-hair. The impo- sition of this veil was considered by Matilda as an intolerable grievance. She wore it,^ as she herself acknowledged, with sighs and tears in the presence of her stem aunt ; and the moment she found herself alone, she flung it on the ground, and stamped it under her feet. During the seven years that !Matilda resided in this dreary asylum, she was carefully instructed in all the learning of the age. Ordericus Vitalis says she was taught the ' literatoriam artem* of which she afterwards became, like her predecessor, Matilda of Flanders, a most munificent patroness. She was also greatly skilled in music, for which her love amounted almost to a passion. When queen, we shall find her sometimes censured for the , 1 I 120 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. lueen " Maud ;" " Jugge " (sometimes used as an abbreviation for Judith) must have been his niece Judith, afterwards the •wife of Waltheof ; and Margery, a daughter, who is sometimes enumerated in his family by the chi'oniclers ; and to these the name of that notable witness, the baby Henry, was doubtless added as a joke by the royal sire. Biting the wliite wax was supposed to give particular authenticity to conveyances from the crown, which formerly were each duly furnished with a proof impression of that primitive substitute for the great seal of England the royal eye-tooth, sometimes familiarly specified by the monarch as his ' fang-tooth/ This custom, which took its rise from veiy remote antiquity, was needlessly adopted by the Anglo-Norman luie of sovereigns, whose broad seals are of peculiarly fine workmanship, bearing their veritable effigies, crowned, sceptred, and in royal robes, seated on the king's stone bench ; and on the reverse of the seal the same monarch is figured, armed cap-k-pie, and mounted on a war- charger, gallantly appointed.* Such are the impressions affixed to all their charters. It is among the boasts of Cambridge'* that Henry, so cele- brated for his learning, received his education there. The ancient aanals of St. Austin's, Canterbury, however, affirm " that he was instructed in philosophy beyond seas, where, for his knowledge in the liberal sciences, he was by the French sumamed Beauclerc.'" The foUowing dialogue took place between Henry and liis royai sire, when the latter lay on his death-bed at Hermentrude,* and was concluding his elaborate confession of his past deeds of oppressioi*. and cruelty with the verbal bequest of his dominions to his two eldest sons. " And what do you give to me, father?" interrupted Henry^ who stood weeping at the bedside, less touched, we fear, at the awful list of sins and wickednesses of which liis dying sire had just disburthened ' Speed. * J. CaiuH Cantftbrig. ' St. Auiitin'H Lib. MSS. A lonrnwl writiT in tlui Arrliipologia suppows that thift appellation wu« won by Henry 'h "English FablcH" in the i'l'^sopian Btylo ; adding that the ci'lebrati-d troubadour poottwH, Marie of France, who lloiiriHlied in the reign of our Henry IIL, han traiuiiuted the KngliHh uioiiiirch's work into Norman French. * Spaed. I I MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 121 abbreviation terwards the is sometimes to these the as doubtless dte wax was fauces from ished with a le great seal irly specified ■itom, which jssly adopted broad seals sir veritable jated on the 3al the same ;d on a war- ssions aftixed iiry, so cele- there. The rever, affirm seas, where, Y the French nry and liis srmentrude,* 8 past deeds uest of his you give to ping at the of sins and lisburthened ift HUppOWB tint /Ksopiiin stylo ; f who Hoiirisliod rch'H wurk into I his conscience, than at the tenour of a last will and testament in which he appeared to have no share. " Five thousand poimds in silver, out of my treasury, do I give thee," replied the Conqueror. " But what shall I do with treasure, if I have neither castle nor domain ?" demanded the disappointed prince. " Be patient, my son, and comfort thyself in God," rejoined the expiring monarch ; " thy elder brothers do but go before thee. Robert shall have Normandy, and William England ; but thou shalt be the inheritor of all my honours, and shall excel both thy brethren in riches and power." This oracular speech, though far enough from proving satisfactory at the time to the landless Henry, v/as afterwards magnified into a prophetic annunciation of his accession to the imited dominions of England and Normandy. Discontented as Henry was with the paternal legacy, he was in such haste to secure its payment, that he left the last duties to the remains of hi^ royal sire to the care of strangers, while he flew to make his claim upon the treasury of the departed sovereign ; rightly judging, that unless he forestalled liis elder brethren in taking possession of the bequest, his chance of receiving it would be but small. In fact, Robert, whose extravagance had exhausted all his resources before he succeeded to the dukedom of Normandy, besought his youngest brother to assist him with a loan of at least part of the money. Henry, who had all the worldly wisdom of a premature statesman, complied, on condition of being put in possession of his mother's bequest of the Cotentin. Robert agreed ; but, after he had been foiled in his attempt to dethrone Rufus, he returned to Normandy with exhausted coflcrs, and wrongfully rejx)ssessed himself of the Cotentin. Henry, greatly cnrjiged at this treatment, was preparing to take up arms against Robert, when the latter, finding himself attacked by William, and abandoned by his false ally, Philip of France, thought proper to make the most earnest solicitations to Henry for assistance, and forgiveness for the late outrage of which he had been guilty. Henry, being mollified by the submission of his elder brother, and understanding that a plot was in agitation to deliver Rouen to William, suddenly entered the city, and If im 4 1 IW ■ ' 1 j v^n ' 1 hI ! |H H 1 fli: i I t fp ^-: 5 B t0 f !l 122 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. seizing Conon, the head of the conspirators, charged him with his treason to the duke, and caused him to be flung headlong from one of the highest towers. By this decisive step Henry preserved the capital for Robert. Robert and William soon after came to an amicable agree- ment, and conceiving a sadden aflfection for each other, they terminated their quarrel by making their wills in each other's favour, without any mention of Henry. Henry regai'ded this as a great alSront, especially on the part of Robeit, to whom he had rendered such signal services, and demanded of him either a restitution of his silver, or to be put in possession of the Cotentin. On Robert's refusal, he seized on Mount St. Michael, where he strongly entrenched himself. The youthful adventurer maintained his rocky fortress with obstinate valour against the united efforts of his august brothers of England and Normandy, till he was reduced to tha greatest straits for want of water. He represented his distress to Robert in a moving message, and obtained leave to supply liis garrison with water, and a present of wine for his own use. Rufus upbraided Robert with his comphance, which he called " an act of folly." — " What I" rephed Robert, with a sudden burst of that generous warmth of feeling which formed the redeeming trait of his character, " is the quarrel between us and our brother of that importance, that we should make him die of thirst ? We may have occasion for a brother hereafter, but where shall we find another if we destroy this ?" After Robert had besieged St. Michael's-mount during the whole of Lent, he brought Henry to terms; who, weary, perhaps, of keeping a stricter fast ^^mn even the church of Rome enjoined at that season, siurendercd the fortress ; and having permission to go whither he pleased, wandered about Germany and France for some time, forsaken of every one save four faitliful domestics, by whom he was attended. In the year 109 1 we find, from Matthew Paris, that Henry was in England, and employed by William Rufus in assisting to quell the formidable rebelhon of Robert Mowbray, tlie lord of Northumberland. Prince Henry's poverty, and dependence on the caprices of his brother the * red king,' subjected liim L MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 123 :ed him with ng headlong : step Henry icable agree- other, they each other's egai'ded this ;i-t, to whom nded of him possession of a Momit St. fortress with his august duced to tha d his distress ive to supply his own use. ich he called h a sudden formed the between us d make hun er hereafter, is?" After he whole of perhaps, of me enjoined x^ permission niiany and four faitlifiJ that Henry in assisting ay, tlie lord dependence )jectcd him occasionally to the sneers of the wealthy Norman barons, but more especially of his kiasman and rival Warren,^ who took occasion, from his swiftness in pursuit of the forest game, " which oft-times," says the chronicle of Normandy, " he, for lack of horse or dog, followed on foot, to bestow the name of ' Deer's-foot ' on the landless prince. This greatly troubled Henry, who hated Warren to the death, but had no power to avenge himself, because the * red king' loved Warren greatly."^ It is possible that Warren's coinrtship of Matilda of Scotland was one cause of Henry's bitter animosity.^ This courtship was sanctioned by Rufiis, and some of the ancient clu'on'clers assert that Matilda was contracted to him, but this appears without foundation. Henry was in his thirty-second year when the glancing aside of Wat Tyrrel's arrow made him king of England. The chroniclers of that era record that, from whatever cause, omens, dreams, and predictions of the death of the ' red king ' were rife in the land immediately preceding that event.^ Prince Henry was at tliis fatal hunting party ;" and Wace, the minstrel chronicler of the Norman line of princes, relates a most remarkable adventure that befell him on this occasion.^ " Prince Henry, being sepsu'ated from the royal party while pursuing his game in an adjoining glen of the forest, chanced to snap the string of his cross-bow, or arblast, and repairing to the hut of a forester to get it mended or replaced, he was, the moment he entered this sylvan abode, saluted as king by an old woman whom he found there," whose description is some- wliat similar to tliat of one of the witches in Macbeth/ The r>llowing is a literal version of her address, from the Norman French rhymes of Wace : — " liiisty news to thoo I brinjf, Henry, thou art now a kin^ ; Mark the words and heed tlunn well, Whiolj to thee in wK)th I ti>ll, And rvvaW them in the hour Ol' thy regal state and i^wer," Before Henry had recovered from the siu-priae with which > Waco. « IWd. * Miilnieshury. Saxon Oliron. ' Chronicle of Normandy, by Wace, » S. Dunehn. " Wace. ' Ibid, \i 124 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ! ^^^B 1 m J 1 ^1 i mi * the weird woman's prediction had startled him, the crie^, of the 'red king's' attendants proclaimed the fatal accident that had befallen their royal master, and the hasty flight of the unlucky marksman by whose erring shaft he had died. Prince Hemy acted as Rufus doubtless would have done in his case ; he sprang to his saddle, and made the best of his way to Winchester, without bestowing a moment's care or attention on the body of his deceased brother, which was irreverently thrown into the cart of one Purkiss, a Saxon charcoal-burner, that was passing through the forest, and, on no gentler bier, was ignobly borne back to the city which he had quitted that morning with such proud parade.* Robert of Gloucester relates this circumstance, with his usual quaint minuteness; and among a number of his lame and tame hues, the following graphic couplet occurs, which we think our readers will con- sider worthy of quotation : — " To Winchester they bare him, all midst liis green wound. And ever lui he lay, the blood well'd to ground." WiUiam Breteuil,^ the royal treasurer, was also at this memorable hunting party, and with him prince Henry actually rode a race to Winchester, — ay, and won it too ; for when Breteuil arrived at the door of the treasury, he found prince Henry st; uding before it, who greeted him with a demand of the keys. Breteuil boldly declared, " That both treasure and crown belonged to the prince's eldest brother, duke Robert of Normandy, who was then pbsent in the Holy Land, and for that prince he woidd keep the treasures of the late king his ma:.ter." Then TTenry drew his sword, and, backed by his powerful frid'd Henry Bellomonte, afterwards earl of Leicester, and otht;r nobles of his party, forced the keys from ^lis kmsman Brete'.>il, and took possession of the treasm'e and regalia. Breteuil luudly protested against the wrong that was done to duke Robert. Some of the nobles who possessed large estates in Nor- * Saxon Cliron. I'lie lineal descendants of the said charcoal-maker, by name Purkiss, still live within the distance of n bow-shov from the 8]H)t where Rufus fell, i.nd continue t<» exercise the trade of their ancestor. — Milncr's Winchester. - William iireteuil was the son of the Conqueror's grea* friend and counsellor, FitZ'0»lK)m, sunuuned ' the IVoml Spirit.' — Sec the precetling biography. I the crie^. of iccident that aight of the lied. Prince in his case ; his way to or attention irreverently coal-burner, gentler bier, quitted that Gloucester minuteness ; he following irs will con- id. ilso at this tnry actually I ; for when )und prince , demand of reasure and e Eobert of nd, and for te king his backed by [•ds earl of ! keys from peusm-e and wrong that !a in Nor- iilvor, by name t whcrr Rufus Winchcstor. md couiiMcllor, rriiphy. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 125 mandy sided with ]3reteuil, in advocating the rights of the royal crusader ; and the debate growing veiy stormy, it was considered more expedient to argue the momentous question in the council-chamber. Thither the nobles and prelates adjourned; but while they were engaged in advocating, according as interest or passion swayed, the rival claims of Robert and Henry to the vacant throne, the majority being inclined for the elder brother, (the brave but proverbially unready Robert,) Henry had successfiilly pleaded his own cause to the populace in the streets of Winchester ; and they, strong in numbers, and animated with sudden affection for the English-bom prince, who had promised to bestow upon them English laws and an English qaeen, gathered round the palace, ai'd quickened the derision of the divided peers in council by making the name of Henry resound in their ears ; and Henry, thus elected by the voice of the people, was immediately proclaimed king at Winchester. The remains of the luckless Rufus were hiuried into the grave, with a sort of hunter's mass, the following morning at an early hour, in Winchester cathedral ; * and Henry hastened to London, where, on Sunday, the nones of August, the fourth day after his brother's death, he was crowned in Westminster-abbey, by Maurice, bishop of London. Before the regal circlet was placed on his brow, " Henry, at the high altar at West- minster, promised to God and the people," says the Saxon Chronicle, " to annul the unrighteous acts that took place in his brother's reign, and he was crowned on that condition.''' Henry promised every thing that could reasonably be de- manded of him, and set about reforming the abuses and cor- ruptions that had prevailed dining thr licentious reign of the bachelor king, and completely secured l:i- popularity with the English people by declaring his resolution of weddinjr • prin- cess of the blood of Alfred, who had been brought up and educated among them. Accordingly he demanded Matilda, • The monument that Henry I. raised for his brother RuftiH, before the hi^h altai at Winchester, is still to 1k» se<>n tliero j he put himself to no great cost for fimer.^l expenses, for it is a pliiln fjrrtv^stone of l.'lack marble, of that sliape cnllc-il dot d'(in3, to bo ueen, of brick or frcesttine, in eonntry churchyurdH. ' Saxon Chroniulu* .u i it i' UM ' ii ■|| i '1 i ■ '' 1 > ii] I If I 13G MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. the daughter of Malcolm kiii'-; of Scotland, and Margaret Atheling, cf -lor brother, Edgar king of Scotland. The pro- posjil was e.\ ud;'igly agreeable to the Scottish monarch, but great dillicultic;- were opposed to the completion of this Ttin^- risigc by those who -vere of opinion that she hud embrflfxd a religious life.' The abbess Christina, Matilda's amit, in pw- ticuliu', whose Saxon prejudices t'ould not brook the ide« tJiat the throne of the Norman line of sovereigns shouiu ba strengthened by an alhance MitJ* the royid blood of AliV^jd, protested, "that her niece was a veiled 'm, and that it would ■>€ an act of sacrilege to remove her from her convent.*' Iknry's heart was set upon the marria^r;', btit hv'. ^ovld not veirli.re to outrage p ipular opinion by wedding ;!. tonse- crated jiun. In thifi dilen.u)ia, he wrote a pressing letter to the lenmed Anf«el.'^, nrci hisliop u? Canterbury, who liad been ur justly di'spoiltd o* Vvis revenues by WiUiam Rufus, and was then in exile Rt LycUi.^. ':'atrcu(tiig him to return, and render him h;?» advi( ; «ik1 assistanco in this affiur. "When Anselm heard the particulars of the ca.se, lie declared that it v, fis too mi^lity foi his single decision, and therefore sunmioiied a couucil of the church at Lambeth, for the purpose of entering I'iore fully into this important question.'* Matilda made her ap2>( jufVTicc before the synod, jmd was closely interrogated by the p 'i.iate Anselm, in the presence of the whole hicnirchy of Engloiid, as to tlie reality of her alleged devotion to a religious lite."' The particidars of her e^iamination have been pre- sf rved by Eadmer, who, as the secretary of the archbishop Anselm, was doubtless tin eye-witness of this interest]' si'CH?, mid, in all probability, recorded the very words uttered by thv.^ princess. The archbishop commenced by stating the objections to her mt^ triage, grounded on the prevailing report that she had embraced a religious hfe, and dechu-cd, "that no ' lotive * Kndmcr. • Not lonp: nftor tlio return of nrclibishop Ansolm to England, t? ' ^, by the rnlviw of his friends, n^olvt ' loavo oil' Ins niistn'sson, ni.u ,• ;■ , and ho, harintj a VC1-1I (jreat affection f i ttilda, daughter to Maloi'. , *. . :. liing of Scotliuid, resolved, if it niiplit iw iawftil, to marry her. — I'yrrt'll, • Kodmer. Mahnesbury. Ml :%'.. MATILDA OF SCOTLA?fD. 127 d Margaret The pro- lonarch, but of this rorsT- embrjK-cd .i luiit, in p'l)'" lie ide?! tliat shouiii bti i of Aifiijd, and that it pr convent."* uc hi ^vould »iig •i:;£, and subsequently in the nunneries of Romsey and Wilton. " I do not deny," said Matilda, " having worn the veil in my father's court, for when I was a child, my aunt CJhf itina put a piece of black cloth over my head ; but when my father saw me with it, he snatched it oiF in a great rage, and execrated the person who had put it on me. I after- wards made a pretence of wearing it, to excuse myself from unsuitable marriages; and on one of these occasions, my father tore the veil and threw it on the ground, observing to Alan earl of Bretagne, who stood by, that it was his intention to give me in marriage, not to devote me to the church."* She also admitted that she had assumed the veil in the nun- nery of Romsey, as a protection from the lawless violence of the Norman nobles, and that she had continued to wear that badge of conventual devotion, against her own inclination, through the harsh compulsion of her aunt, the abbess Chris- tina. "If I attempted to remove it," continued Matilda, "she would torment me with harsh blows and sharp re- proaches. Sighing and trembling, I wore it in her presence ; but as soon as I withdrew from her sight, I always threw it off, and trampled upon it." ' This explanation was considered perfectly satisfactory by the council at Lambeth, and they pronounced that " Matilda, daughter of Malcolm king of Sr;otland, had proved that she had not embraced a relipriouis ]'•% either by her own choice or th« vow of her pj^'ints, and she was therefore free to contract marriage witl? ' -le king." The council, in addition to this declaration, tl; )ught proper to make puViic the most cogent reason which the Scottish princess had given for her assump- tion r '' the black veil on her coming to England : which was ■ Eadmcr. ' Ibid, W')i 128 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. .iij Ui « I done in the following remarkable words : " When the great king William conquered tliis land, many of his followers, elated by so great a victory, and thinking that every thing ought to be subservient to their will and pleasure, not only seized che provisions of the conquered, but invaded the honour of tl .eir matrons and virgins whenever they had an oppor- tun'.ty. This obhged many young ladies, who dreaded their violence, to put on the veil to preserve their honour."' According to the Saxon chroniclers, Matilda, notwithstand- ing her repugnance to the consecrated veil, exhibited a very maidenly reluctance to enter the holy pale of matrimony with a royal husband. It is possible that the report of the immoral tenour of Henry^s life before he ascended the tin-one, which was evidenced by his acknowledging the claims of twenty illegitimate children, might be regarded by a princess of her purity of mind and manners as a very serious objection ; and if, as many of the early chroniclers intimate, there had been a previous engagement between Henry and herself, she of course felt both displeasure and disgust at his amours with the beautiful Nesta, daughter of the prince of Wales, and other ladies too numerous to particularize. It is certain that after the council at Lambeth had pronounced her free to marry, Matilda resisted for a time the entreaties of the king, and the commands of her royal brother and sovereign, to accept the briUiant destiny which she was oflFered. AU who were connected with the Saxon royal line impor- tmied Matilda, meantime, with such words as these: " O most noble and most gracious of women ! if thou wouldst, thou couldst raise up the ancient honour of England; thou wouldst be a sign of alliance, a pledge of reconcihation. But if thou per- sistest in thy refusal, the enmity between the Saxon and Nor- man races will be etem.')!; human blood will never cease to flow."* Thus urged, the royal recluse ceased to object to a man'iage, whereby she was to become the bond of peace to a divided nation, and the dove of the newly-sealed covenant between the Norman sovereign and her own people. Henrj'" promised to confirm to the English nation their ancient la"HS ' Euduier. ' Saxou Clu-onicle. tl MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 129 n the great s followers, every thing re, not only the honour an oppor- •eaded their or."' )twithstand- )ited a very [imony with the immoral irone, which i of twenty icess of her ection ; and •e had been [•self, she of mours with Wales, and certain that her free to )f the king, overeign, to line impor- !: "Omost liou couldst midst he a if thou per- n and Nor- er cease to object to a peace to a d covenant e. Henrj^ ricient \ix\\s le. and privileges, as established by Alfred, and ratified by Edward the Confessor, — ^in short, to become a constitutional monarch ; and on those conditions the daughter of the royal line of Alfred consented to share his throne. Matthew Paris says positively that Matilda was a professed nun, and so averse to this marriage, that she invoked a curse upon all the descendants that might pro^'^ from her union with the Norman king. But this is contradicted by all other historians; and if any foundation existed for the story, we think friend Matthew must, by a strange slip of the pen, have written down the name of the meek and saintly Matilda instead of that of the perverse virago the abbess Christina, her aunt, who was so greatly opposed to those auspicious nuptials, and, for aught we know, might have been as much addicted to the evil habit of imprecation as she was to scolding and fighting. Matilda's demurs, after all, occasioned httle delay, for the archbishop Anselm did not return to England till October; the council at Lambeth was held in the latter end of that month, and her marriage and coronation took place on Sunday, November 11th, being St. Martin's-day, just three months and six days after the inauguration of her royal lord at West- minster, August 5th, 1100, — which we may consider quick work, for the dispatch of such important business and solemn ceremonials of state. William of Malmesbury teUs us that Henry's friends, especially bishops, having counselled him to reform his life and contract lawful wedlock, he married, on St. Martin's-day, Matilda, daughter of Malcolm king of Scot- land, to whom he had long been greatly attached, not regard- ing the marriage-portion, provided he could possess her whom he had so ardently desired; for though she was of noble descent, bemg great niece of king Edward by his brother Edmund, yet she possessed little fortune, being doubly an orphan. This is surely a convincing testimony of the strength of Henry's afiection for Matilda. The scene of their marriage is thus described by a contem- porary, who was probably an eye-witness : " At the wedding of Matilda and Henry the First, there was a most prodigious concourse of nobility and people assembled in and VOL. I. K It 130 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. i I : I' I about the church at Westminster, when, to prevent all calumny and ill report that the king was about to marry a nun, the archbishop Anselm mounted into a pulpit, and gave the multi- tude a history of the events proved before the synod, and its Judgment, — ^that the lady Matilda of Scotland was free from any rehgious vow, and m:j.;Lt ■iuvo.Aj of herself in marriage as Rhe thought fit. The i'vchbi^Ai ^p linished by asking the people In a loud voice, whether any one there objected to this decision: •ipon which they answered unanimously, with a loud shout, that the matter was rightly settled.' Accordingly the lady was immediately married to the king, •>ir;l .lu.ited before that vast assembly."' A more simple yet majestic appeal to the sense of the people, in regard to a royal marriage, history cecords not. An exquisiiely beautiful epithalamium, in honour of these auspicious nuptials, was written by Matilda's friend Hildebert, in elegant Latin verse, wherein he congratulates both England and Henry on the possession of t 'le doubly royal bride Matilda. He eulogizes her virtues, and describes her modest and maidenly deportment as enhancing her youthftd charms when, •with blushes that outvied the crimson of her royal robe, she stood at the altar, invested with her royal insignia, a virgin queen and bride, in whom the hopes of England hailed the future mother of a mighty Kne of kings.^ To this auspicious union of the Anglo-Norman sovereign Henry I. with Matilda of Scotiand, a princess of EngUsh lineage, English educat'.n, and an Eni (ish heart, we may trace all the constitutional blessings which this free country at present enjoys. It was through the influence of this vir- tuous queen that Henry grunted the im^ ortant chtuter which formed the model and precedent of that gre^-t paUadiu^rL of English hberty, Magna Charta ; and we . i upon our readers to observe, that it was the direct • ^estre oS of our present sovereign-lady who refused to qm uk-v ioomy conventual prison, and to give her hand to trie handsomest and most accon^ashed sovereign of his time, tiU she had obtained just and merciful laws for her suflfering country, the repeal of the i > Eadmer. * Opera Hildeberti, p. 1367. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 131 ill caluinny a nun, the B the multi- od, and its 3 free from Daarriage as ; the people lis decision: loud shout, ly the lady before that )peal to the Lge, history ur of these [ Hildebert, th England ide Matilda, nodest and larms when, il robe, she ia, a virgin hailed the sovereign of Enghsh we may •ee country of this vir- uter which alladiuTn of 3ur readers lur present conventual and most tained just peal of the J67. tjTannical imposition of the curfew, and some slight degree, a recognition of the rights of the couimoxis. When the marriage of Matilda of Scotland with Henry I. took place, a hundred copies of this digest of the righteous laws of Alfred and Edward the Confessor were made, and committed to the keeping of the principal bishoprics and monasteries in England ; but when these were sought for, in the reign of John, to form a legal authority for the demands of the people, Rapin says only one could be found, which was exhibited to the barons by cardinal Langton. This was, in fact, the simple model on which Magna Charta was framed. It is supposed that Henry I., after Matilda's death, destroyed all the copies (on which he could lay his hands) of a covenant which, in the latter years of his reign, he scrupled not to infringe whenever he felt disposed. Hardyng, after recording the death of the 'red king,' relates the accession of Henry I., and his marriage with Matilda of Scotland, in the following rude stanzas: — *' Henry, his brother, the first king of that name. Was crownfKi with all the honour that mip' t be; He reo'nf.itd St. Anschn, who came home. And cv t ned Maude his wife full fdr and firee. That daughter was (full of benignite) To king Malcolyne and St. Margrete the queen Of Scotland, which afore that time had been j Of will n he gat William, Richard, and Molde, Wli(» odness is yet spoken of full wide j If she . ere fair, her virtues many -fold Exceeded far — all vice she set aside ; Debates that were engendered of pride She set at rest with all benevolence, And visited the sick and poor with diligence. The prisoners, and women eke with child. Lying in abject misery aye about, Clothes, meat, and bedding new and undefiled. And wine and ale she gave withouten doubt j When she saw need in countries all throughout. Those crosses aU that yet ' e most royal In the highways, with go. I she made them alL"^ * Sir Henry Ellis's version. k2 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND, QUEEN OP HENRY I. CHAPTER II. Popularity of Matilda's marriage — Called Matilda Atheling — Her charities — Her brother, king Alexander the Fierce — Her works of utility — Equitable laws of king Henry — Normans nickname the king and queen — Duke Eobert's inva- sion — Birth of Matilda's son — Robert's consideration for Matilda — Henry'g quarrels with archbishop Ansehn — Matilda's letters — England threatened with excommunication — Matilda writes to the pope — Duke Robert re-lands in England — Matilda reconciles him to the king — Anselm's return to England — Matilda's friendship for him — Birth of princess Matilda — Robert regrets the loss of his pension — Reviles Matilda — Battle of Tinchebray — Capture of Robert and the queen's uncle Edgar — Pardoned through the queen's iiifluence — Court first kept at Windsor by Henry and Matilda — Princess Matilda betrothed to the emperor — Covat at Winchester — Marriage of prince William — Portrait of queen MatUda — Departure of empress Matilda — Parliament held — Woodstock-palace completed — Revolt in Normandy — Illness of the queen — Her death — King Hemys grief— Burial of Matilda-— Inscription to her memory — Her palace at Westminster — Present remains — Statue of Matilda — Her children. Matilda^s English ancestry and English education rendered the new king's marriage mth. her a most popular measure with the Anglo-Saxon people, of whom the great bulk of his subjects was composed. By them the royal bride was fondly styled Matilda Atheling, and regarded as the representative of their own regretted sovereigns. The allegiance which the mighty Norman conqueror, and his despotic son the 'red king,' had never been able to obtain, except through the sternest measures of compulsion, and which, in defiance of the dreadful penalties of loss of eyes, limbs, and life, had been frequently withdrawn from these powerful monarchs, was freely and faithfully accorded to the husband of Matilda, Henry I., MATILDA OP SCOTLAND. 133 harities — Her itable laws of k)bert's inva- Ida — Henry's reatened with t re-lands in to England — rfc regrets the ure of Robert uence — Court trothed to the "trait of queen idstock-palace death — King Her palace at I rendered r measure >ulk of his was fondly entative of which the the 'red rough the nee of the had been was freely Henry I., by the Saxon population. All the reforms effected by his enlightened government, and all the good laws which his enlarged views of poUtical economy taught that wise monarch to adopt, were attributed, by his Anglo-Saxon subjects, to the beneficial influence of his young queen. Robert of Gloucester was fully impressed with these ideas, as we may plainly per- ceive in the following lines in his rhyming Chronicle, in which he speaks of Henry's marriage : — " So that as soon as he was king, on St. Martyn's-day I ween. He gpoiised her that was called Maude the good queen, That was kind^ heir ofEnglamd, as I have told before. • # • « # Many were the good laws that were made in England Through Maude the good queen, as I understand." The Londoners, whose prosperity had sensibly diminished in consequence of the entire absence of female royalty, beheld with unfeigned satisfaction the palace of Edward the Confessor, at Westminster, once more graced by the presence of a queen of the blood of Alfred, whose virtues, piety, and learning rendered her a worthy successor of the last Saxon queen who had held her court there, Editha, " That gracious rose of Godvnn's thorny stem." Those to whom the memory of that illustrious lady was justly dear were probably not unmindful of the fact, that the youthful queen, on whom the hopes of England were so fondly fixed, had received that genuine Saxon name at the baptismal font ; and though, in compUment to her Norman godfather, she was called Matnda, she was also Editha. Matilda fully verified the primitive title bestowed by the Saxons on their queens, Hlafdige, or 'the giver of bread.' Her charities were of a most extensive character, and her tender compassion for the sufferings of the sick poor carried her almost beyond the bounds of reason, to say nothing of the restraints imposed on royalty. She imitated the example of her mother St. Margaret, queen of Scotland, both in the strictness of her devotional exercises, and in her personal attentions to those who were labouring under bodily afflictions.' She went every day in Lent to Westminster-abbey, barefoot, * * Kind ' means, in ancient English, relationship : ' next of kin,' a familiar cxpreesion, is derived from ii. * Weever, I ! 134 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. J i if ^ ■' i Pi »!;, I, and clothed in a garment of haircloth; and she would wash and kiss the feet of the poorest people, for which, according to Robert of Gloucester, she was once reproved, not without reason, by a courtier. He had his answer, however, as our readers will perceive fi^om the following curious dialogue: — " * Madam, for Godde's love is this well ado. To handle such unclean limbs, and to kiss so ? Foul would the king think, if this thing he y^ 'st, And right well avile him ere he your lips kist.' ' Sir, sir !* quoth the queen, * be still. Why say you so ? Our Lord himself example gave for to do so.' "' On another occasion, her brother, Alexander the Fierce, king of Scotland, when on a visit to the court of her royal husband, entering Matilda's apartments, found her on her knees, engaged in washing the feet of some aged mendicants; on which she entreated him to avail himself of the opportunity of performing a good and acceptable work of charity and humiliation, by assisting her in this labour of love, for the benefit of his soul. The warlike majesty of Scotland smiled, and left the room ■without making any reply to this invitation.^ Perhaps he was conscious of his want of skill as an assistant at a pediluvium party; or it might be, that he had seen too much of such scenes during the life of his pious mother queen Margaret, and feared that his sister would caiTy her works of ])enevolence to extremes that might prove displeasing to the taste of so refined a prince as Henry Beauclerc. But to do Matilda justice, her good w^orks in general bore a character of more extended usefulness; so much so, that we even feel the benefit of them to tliis day, in the ancient bridge she built over ' my lady Lea.' Once being, with her train on horseback, in danger of perishing while fording the river Lea at Oldford, during a high flood, in gratitude for her pre- servation she built the first arched bridge ever known in England, a little liiglier up the stream, called by tlic Saxons ' RolH>rt of Oloucpstcr. • Wendover, Flowers of Hi«tt>ry, transluted by Dr. Gillcs, p. 459. The clironiclor attributes the anwdote t<) prince David, giving date 1105. David was cortairly coiivenicTitly ut ]'.ans!, 'n S«iM i»Mu-yiini, v'ujm) vo v^^ ''at* niinBter-i)aia4't', having marriod the countess St. liys, heircfM of earl Wa^' ofij but David, who wa/t afti'rwarda canonizwl, wcnild liavo given liin aid li/i. villin^'v. Tt is IU)l)ert of OlonceritiT who says the brother tu whom Mutiio. 'j luo dmrittiblti lecson was AUiwudcr. wrould wash iccording to bout reason, our readers the Fierce, if her royal lier on her nendicants; opporhmity jharity and ve, for the and smiled, 1 invitation.^ m assistant seen too >ther queen 3r works of sing to the neral bore so, that we ient bridge her train the river r her pre- known in he Saxons . 459. The 105. Dftvid Umv io '''ost* rl Wa' .)«» u MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 135 III i •3 il.o u Bow-bridge,' still to be seen at Stratford-le-Bow, " though the ancient and mighty London-bridge has been broken down." Bow-bridge she bmlt at the head of the town of Stratford; likewise Channel's-bridge, over a tributary stream of the Lea, the way between them being well paved with gravel. She gave ceitain manors, and a mill called Wiggin-mill, for ever, towards keepmg in repair the said bridges and way.* Matilda founded the hospital at St. Giles-in-the-Fields, and also Christ-Church,^ which stood on the very spot now called Duke's-place, noted as the resort of a low class of Jews. This excellent queen also directed her attention to the important object of making new roads, and repairing the ancient high- ways that had fallen into decay during the stormy years which had succeeded the peaceful and prosperous reign of her great uncle, Edward the Confessor. By this means, travellers and itinerant merchants were greatly faciUtated in their journeys through the then wild and perilous country, which, with the exception of the four great Roman ways,* was only intersected by a few scattered cart-tracks, through desolate moors, heaths, and uncultivated wastes and woodlands. These public benefits, which Matilda the Good conferred upon the people from whose patriotic monarchs she derived her descent, were in all proba- bility the fi-uits of her regency during the absence of her royal husband in Normandy ; for it is scarcely to be supposed that such stupendous undertakings could have been effected by the hmited power and revenues of a mere queen-consort. Henry the First, be it remembered, was placed on the throne by the Saxon diidsion of his subjects, who were the commons of England , and by them he was supported in his regal authority against the Norman aristocracy, who formed a powerful party in favour of his elder brother's pretensions to the crown of England. The moral and political reforms with which Henry commenced his reign, and, above all, the even- handed measure of justice which he caused to be observed ' Bow, from f'cjfn, an urch, a word in tho Gorman lanf?\iiijf(>, pronouncetl with the g somxU'd like y. which hrin><» it <-l(wo to the Anglo-Saxon. ' Hi'.y ward's Three Niiriumi Kings. ' Pennant. * Wliich mighty worki* were of infinite uhc to our ancestors in ages Inter tlian the Noriuau era. HoImtI of (Hoticestcr sjx'aks of their utility in his day, and luiytt,— " Thilk ways by niony a town do woiid." 136 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. rf towards all who presumed to infringe tlie laws, gave great offence to many of those haughty nobles, who had been accus- tomed to commit the most flagrant crimes with impunity, and to oppress their humbler neighbours without fear of being arraigned for their misdeeds. The estabUshment of the equitable laws which protected the wives and daughters of Englishmen from insult, the honest trader from wrong and robbery, and the poor from violence, were attributed to the influence of Matilda, whom they insultingly styled "the Saxon woman,'' and murmured at the virtuous restraints which her presence and authority imposed upon the court.' The conjugal affection which subsisted between the royal pair excited, withal, the ridicule of those who had been the pro- fligate associates of the bachelor-king, WiUiam Rufiis ; and it was universally displeasing to the haughty Norman peers to see the king's gracious demeanour towards the hitherto oppressed and dispirited English portion of his subjects, for whom his amiable consort was constantly laboiuing to procure a recognition of their rights. "The mahce of certain evil- minded men," says Eadmer, " busied itself in inventing the most cutting railleries on king Henry, and his wife of Enghsh blood. They nicknamed them Leofric and Godiva, and always called them so when not in the royal presence."' According to William of Malmesbury, however, duke Robert's partisans were not always so polite as to restrain their malapert language till the king and queen had withdra>vn. " They openly branded their lord with sarcasms," says that quaint chronicler, " caUing him Godric," (which means * gt)dly governor,') " and his consort Goddiva. Henry heard these taunts : with a ti^rrific grin, indicative of his inward wrath, he repressed the contemptuous expressions aimed at liini by the madness of fools by a studied silence ; for he was a culm dissemljlcr of liis enmities, but ui due season avenged hinis(;lf with interest." It is probable that Warren, the disappointed suitor of Matilda, and his kinsnuui Alortimer, with others of the audacious Norman quern, who liad previously exercised their wit in bestowing an offfn«ive sobrufuci on ilcnry before his acces- siun to the throne, were among the foremost of those invidious * EaUiner. ThiiTry. • Ibid. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 137 ^ave great een accus- iinity, and ' of being it of the lighters of vrong and ited to the jrled "the restraints the court.* royal pair 1 the pro- US ; and it a peers to e hitherto iibjects, for to procure ertain evil- enting the of Enghsh odiva, and presence."* te Robert's ir malapert ley openly hroniclcr, lor/) "and : M'ith a repressed uadncss of s(>inblcr of interest." )f Matilda, audacious )ir wit in his acccs- 3 invidious ?s ■ I detractors, who could not endure to witness the wedded hap- piness of their sovereign, and the virtuous influence of his youthful queen. The invasion of duke Robert, Henry's eldest brother, on his retiirn from the Holy Land, took place in the second year of Matilda's marriage. King Henry's fleet being manned with Norman seamen, and, of course, under the influence of Norman chiefs, revolted ; and instead of guarding the coasts of England from the threatened invasion of the duke, swept across the narrow seas, and brought him and his armament in trisimph to Portsmouth, where he was joined by the majority of the Anglo-Norman baronage.' Robert had also his par- tisans among the Enghsh ; for Edgar Atheling so far forgot the interests of his royal niece, queen Matilda, as to espouse the cause of his friend Robert against the king her husband. Robert landed at Portsmouth, and marched direct to Win- chester, where queen Matilda then lay-in with her first-bom child, William the Atheling. When this circumstance was related to the duke, he relinquished his purpose of storming the city, with the observation, "that it never should be said he ^Riit to exercise small portion of that liberty of choice with '.. Ach. the church had endowed them. Independently of tlie perfec .onjugal unity of purpose which marks the wedded life of Matilda and her lord, she neither could nor dared have intermeddled in such weighty matters without his sanction, and those who cannot perceive the diplomatic finesse with which she carries on the treaty for her husband, imderstand little of iiic characteristics of the royal pair. In addressmg the exiled primate, Matilda offers abundant incense to his spiritual pride. She styles herself " Matilda, by the grace of God queen of England, the lowUest of the handmaidens of his holiness ;"'* and thanks him for having condescended by his letters presented to show her his mind, although he was absent. " I greet the little piece of parch- ment sent by you, as I would one from my father himself. I place it in my bosom near my heart : I read over and over again the words flowing from your kindness ; my mind ponders them ; my heart considers them. Yet, while I prize aU you say, I marvel at what your wise excellency says about your nephew."^ As the queen seems not very well to imderstand Anselm's allusion to his nephew, it is not possible for her nographer to explain it. However, Matilda speaks with full confidence on the possibility of her lord and master viewing uiLxiiinit;iy mt, niimrs vi tuc ciiuicii in lhu smuc ugiii/ tia sue ' Sancti ^Viuiclmi E^'Utolox ' Ibid. lib. iU. cp, xcvL • Ibid. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 141 n urgent n Henry amicable rchbishop compro- of congd that, "aa itment of ; but she sal.' Ulf nd favour owcr and bury were tioice will? tly of the le wedded lared have 3 sanction, nesse with inderstand abundant "Matilda, !st of the [for having his mind, of parch- ;r himself, and over id ponders se all you ibout your iderstand le for her Is with full er viewing but as Sii6 » Ibid. did ; and she foretells, as the result of some secret consultation of which she was cognizant, evidently meaning the privj"^- councils of Henry the First, " that the return of the pastor to his flock, of the father to his daughter, would soon take place from the good will which,'' says she, "by carefully examining, 1 find really to exist iu the heart of my lord. In truth, his mind has more fn^ndship towards you than men think. I cultivate it, promoting whatsoever good feeling I can, in order that he may be reconciled to you. Whatsoever he may grant now in regard to your return, will bo followed by further concessions when, in the fiiture, you may see occasion to desire them But if he should stiU persist in overstepping the bounds of justice, I implore from the plenitude of your charity, as the venom of rancour is not accus- tomed to be in you, that you turn not from him the benignity of your regard ; but piously intercede with God for him/ for me, and for the children that spring from us both ; likewise for the people of our realm. May your holiness ever fare well." In the hope of averting from England and her king the threatened interdict, Matilda next addressed herself to the angry pontiff. Her letter, though partaking too much of the proHx formaUty of a state-paper for insertion, is very ably written ; and though submissive on the whole, contains certain proof that, whomsoever might be a beUever in his infaUibility, she was not among the number. The very terms of her salutation contain an admonition that the attainment of tlie everlasting felicity she mshes him must depend on the manner in which he discharges the duties of his high vocation, for she says, " To the highest pontiff and universal pope Pascal : Matilda, by God's grace queen of the English, trusts that he will so dispense in this life the justice of the apostoUcal see, that he may deserve to be numbered among the apostolic conclave in the joys of perpetual peace with the companies of the just." Saintly, yet no slave of Rome, Matilda displays the high spirit of an Eughsh princess under all the elaborate terms of ceremonial lowliness in which her masterly letter is couched. She asks the pope to suspend liis threatened fulmi- nation, to give the king her lord time to effect a reconciliation 142 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. ir V i;; with the archbishop ; but follows up this prayer with an in- timation, that if matters are driven to an extremity, it may cause a separation between England and the Roman see. Duke Robert took advantage of the crisis to enter Eng- land, attended by only twelve gentlemen. Henry, having speedy information of his landing, declared, if he fell into his hands, he would keep him so closely imprisoned, that he should never give hmn any more trouble. " Not so, sire," rephed the count de MeUent ; " he is your brother, and God forbid ^ that you should do so great a villany. Let me meet and talk with hi a, and I wiU take care that he shall return quietly into Normandy, and give you acquittance of his pension withal." — " By my faith," repHed the king, " I will make you do what you say." The count then moimted his horse, and encountering duke Robert on the road to South- ampton, greeted him with these words : " St. Mary ! what brings you into this country ? Who has given you such fatal counsel ? You know you have hitherto compelled the king to pay you four thousand marks a-year ; and for this cause you will be taken and put to death, or detained in prison for life. He is detcx mined to be avenged on you, I promise you." When the duke heard this he was greatly disturbed, and asked " if he could not return to Southampton ?" — " No," repHed Mellent, " the king will cause you to be intercepted ; but even if you could reach that place, the wind is contrary for your escape by sea." — "Counsel me," cried the duke, " what I ought to do." — " Sire," rephed the count, " the queen is apprized of the news, and you know that you showed her great kindness when you gave up the assault on Winchester because she lay in childbed there. Hasten to her, and commit yourself and your people to her care, and I am sure she will guard you from all harm." Then duke Robert went to the queen, and she received and reassured him very amiably ; and by the sweet words she said to him, and the fear he was iu of being taken, he ^vas induced to sacrifice those pecuniary claims on the king his brother, for wliich he had resigned the realm of England. ^ Chronique de Normaiidie. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 143 ith an in- 7, it may see. Qter Eng- y, having 11 into his ., that he so, sire," , and God t me meet lall retmn ce of his K, "I will )unted his to South" ary ! what L such fatal 1 the king this cause L prison for mise you." urbed, aod »_" No," itercepted ; is oontrary the duke, lunt, "the rovi showed Winchester nd commit ire she will vent to the liably ; and e was in of liaiy claims . the realm When Henry heard that his brother had granted an acquit- tance for this money to the queen, he requested her to come to him with duke Robert. Matilda, always \appy to act the blessed part of a peace-maker, having introduced her brother- in-law into the presence of ' •.. king, duke Robert thus addressed him : " '^air sire, I am come to see you out of affec- tion, and not to injure either you or yours. We are brothers, bom of one father and one mother. If I am the eldest, you have the honour of a crown, which is a much better thing. I love you well, and thus it ought to be. Money and rents I seek not of you, nor ever will. I have quitted to the queen all you owe me for this kingdom. Enter we now together into perfiect amity We will exchange gifts of jewels, dogs, and birds, with such things as ought to be between brothers and friends." — " We wiU do as you say," repUed the king, "and thanks for what you have said."^ The Saxon chronicler and some other historians affirm, indeed, that he invaded England ; " but it is plain," says sir John Hayward, " that he only came for disport and play ;' that is, to recreate himself at the court of Henrv Beauclerc, and to enjoy the agreeable society of the queen his god-daughter, \vith the music and minstrelsy in which they both so greatly dfchghted. Well would it have been for the luckless Robert, if aU his tastes had been equally harmless and rcri led ; but he had propensities disgraceful to his character as an individual, and ruinous to his fortunes as a prince. Tlie chroniclers relate that he indulged in such excess of revelry while he was at the Enghsh court, that he was often in a state of inebriation for days together.^ From William of Malmesbury's version of the manner in which Matilda obtained the resignation of Robert's pension, it should appear that she only made an indirect insinuation of how acceptable such an addition to her queenly revenues would be, and he bestowed it upon her without a word. Our shrewd old monk, however, has very httle appreciation of sucn chivalric munificence to a royal lady, for he drily observes, " And he, too, as if contending with Fortune whethef sh^ should give or * Clironique cte Normandie, 248-9. Eadmer. 144 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. I ' i f's'! ii he squander most, discovering the mere wish of the queen who silently desired it, kindly forgave the payment of this immense sum for ever, tu <.kmg it a very great matter that female pride should condescend to ask a favour, although < c was her godfather." According to another historian, Robcio resigned his pension to Matilda at a carouse ; and when he became aware of the folly of which he had been guilty, he was greatly exasperated, and bitterly reproached his brother Henry " with having cheated and despoiled him, by employing the queen to beguile him with fair words out of his pension, when he was under the influence of wine/" It is certain that there was nothing but animosity between the royal brothers after this affair. In the year 1104, Henry left the government of England in the prudent hands of Matilda, and embarked for Normandy. While there, he consented to meet Anselm, the archbishop, at the castle of I'Aigle, where, through the mediation of his sister Adela, countess of Blois, a recon- ciUation was happily effected. Anselm then returned to England, where he was met at Dover by the queen Matilda, who received and wel( Jiiod him with the greatest demonstra- tions 0^ satisfaction." Ai>- the venerable primate was in feeble health, the queen t-" ok: the precaution of preceding him on the road from Dover to tii'^ metropolis, providing, as she went, for his comforts and accommodation.' The return of Anselm was attended with circumstances which gave great pain to Matilda, as an Enghsh queen. Both the king and archbishop, after their reconcOiation, united in enforcing inexorably the cehbacy of the Anglo-Saxon clergy, whose lower orders had previously been able to obtaiu Ucences to marry. Anselm now excommunicated all the married clergy. Two himdred of these unfortunate Saxons, barefoot, but clad LQ their clerical robes, encountered the king and queen in the streets of London. They implored the king's com- passion : he turned from them with words of insult. They then ' Eadmer. (Jem. • Pascal II. admitted Anselm, the favourite priest and prelate of Matilda, to n seat near his right foot ; saying, " We admit this prelate into our circle, he being, jvJ it were, the pope of the farther hemisphere." — Godwin de Praes. * Eadmer. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 145 he queen it of this itter that though lie ,n, B-obert L when he guilty, he is brother employing is pension, is certain the royal try left the atilda, and ed to meet re, through is, a recon- etumed to n Matilda, demonstra- as in feeble him on the le went, for 'cumstances leen. Both , united in son clergy, ain licences he married IS, barefoot, 5 and qupcn dng^s com- They then )f Matilda, to a ;ircle, he being, || IS. , uut at id were s\*! plicated the queen to intercede for them, but MatUda, with tears in hci* eyes, assured them "that she dared not interfere/^' The year 1104 was marked by the birth of a priiicess, who was first named Alice, or Adelais,^ but whose name the king afterwards changed to that of his beloved and po iiL'u* queen, Matilda. This princess was afterwards the celebi ted empress Matilda. " Satisfied with a child of either sex/' sa , s WiUiam of Malmesbury, " she ceased having issue ; aii -iduru with complacency the absence of the court wlieii the sas else- where employed, she continued many yeai "♦ nvv ter. Yet was no part of royal magnificence waiii aU times crowds of visitants and raconteurs ca- entertained in her superb dwelling ; for this the kmg s liberahty commanded, this her own. kindness and afiabOity enacted. She was singularly holy, by no means despicable in point of beauty, a rival of her royal mother's piety, blameless as regarded feminine propriety, and unsullied even by suspicion. She had a singular pleasure in hearing the service of God, and on this accomit was thoughtlessly prodigal towards clerks of melodious voice, both in gifts and promises. Her generosity becoming universally known, crowds of scholars, equally famed for poetry and music, came over, and happy did he account himself who could soothe the ear of the queen by the novelty of his song." Matilda's preference to foreigners in dispensing her patron- age is censured by our worthy chronicler as one of her few faults. This he imputes to vanity or love of ostentation in the queen; " for," says he, " the love of fame is so rooted in the human mind, that scarcely any one is contented with the precious fiiiits of a good conscience, but is desirous of having their laudable actions blazed abroad. Hence it was justly observed, that the inclination crept upon the queen to reward all the foreigners she could, while the others were kept in suspense, and though sometimes rewarded, oftener tantalized with empty promises." Nor was this all; for, like a faithful annalist, Malmesbury chronicles the evil as well as the good of this illustrious ladv. who. he says " fell into an error inci- ^ Lingard. Ibid. VOL. I, IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) C' £ /. K rf" 1.0 I.I 1.25 ^^ US, ". ..» ■2,0 1.8 U 111.6 ^ 7 . /.< y >!^ ^y. Photpgraphic Sciences Corporation iV i\^ 4 L17 \\ 33 WIST MAIN STRII J WIBSTIR.NV I4tl0 (7U) •7a-4S03 6"^ ^•4^, ^A' o \ 146 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. dental to prodigal queens by rack-renting her tenants^ and thus extorting from them unjustly the means of supporting her Hberality to others, who had less claims to her bounty. " But whoso/' pursues he, " shall judge rightly, will impute this to her servants, who, harpy-like, conveyed every thing they could gripe into their own purses, or wasted it in riotous living. Her ears being infected with the base insinuations of these people, she induced this stain on her noble mind, holy and meritorious in every other respect.'" The profound tran- quillity that subsisted m her husband's dominions during his frequent absences in Normandy, is a proof that Matilda under- stood the art of domestic government, and practised it with a happier eflPect than the two first Anglo-Norman sovereigns, whose reigns were so greatly disturbed by insurrections. Henry, after his successful campaign in Normandy, returned to England, in his personal appearance at least, an altered man. The Anglo-Normans had adopted the picturesque Saxon fashion — ^which, however, was confined to persons of high rank— of wearing their hair long, and flowing in ringlets on their shoulders; and the king was remarkable for the luxu- riance and beauty of his love-locks, which he cherished with peculiar care, no doubt out of a laudable desire to conform to the tastes of his queen, the daughter of a Saxon princess. His courtiers imitated the royal example, which gave great scandal to the Norman clergy. One day, while the king was in Normandy, he and his train entered a church, where an ecclesiastic of the name of Serlo, bishop of Seez, took up his parable on the sinfulness of this new fashion, " which," he protested, " was a device of tlie Evil one to bring souls into everlasting perdition; compared the moustached, bearded, and long-haired men of that age to filthy goats;"' and, in short, made so moving a discourse on the unloveliness of their present appearance, that the king of England and his courtiers melted into tears ; on which Serlo, perceiving the impression which his eloquence had made, drew a pair of scissors out of his sleeve, and, instead of permitting their peni- tence to evaporate in a few unmeaning drops, persuaded his 1 ntin.'. tirnii.n, ^^ \f„i.»«.i» • »•■»■■* W* AVAMAIUWIL/UAJ MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 147 royal and noble auditors to prove the sincerity of their repen- tance by submitting their ringlets to his discretion, and brought his triumph to a climax by polling the king and congregation mth. his own hands. After Henry had thus submitted his flowing ringlets to the reforming shears of Serlo, he published an edict, commanding his subjects to follow his example. Henry was then courting popidarity in the duchy of Nor- mandy, and well knew that the readiest way to effect his object, was to win the good report of the monks. He had previously scandalized all piously disposed persons, by choos- ing for his private chaplain a priest whose only merit con- sisted in being able to hurry over matins and mass in half aa hour. This was Rc^er le Poer,' afterwards the rich and potent bishop of Salisbury, whose hasty dispatch of the mom- rag service so charmed Henry, that he swore aloud in the church " that he had at length met with a priest fit for a goldier." Roger, when he received this flattering commenda- tion from the lips of royalty, was only a poor curate at Caen, but was advanced by Henry to the highest preferment in the church and state. Queen Matilda did not long enjoy the society of her royal husband in England, and during the brief period he spent with her at Northampton, in the winter season, his whole time and thoughts were employed in raising the means for pursuing the war in Normandy. His unfortunate brother, Robert, finding himself sorely pressed on every side, and left, by his own improvident folly, without resources for ooriiiiuing the contest, came over to England unattended^ and, repairing to the court at Northampton, forced an interview with Henry,' (who was reluctant to admit him into his presence,) and earn- estly besought his compassion; telling him, at the same time, " he was ready to submit every thing to his brotherly love, if he would only permit him to retain the appearance of a sovereign." As it by no means suited Henry's pohcy to yield to the dictates of natural affection, he coldly turned away, mut- tering something to himself that was unintelligible to tho by-stauders, and which he could not be induced to explain. > Godwin trara. > M. Fans. l2 148 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. i il J I 111' Hobert'B quick temper could not brook this contemptuous usage, and, in a paroxysm of rage, he indignantly assailed his brother with a storm of reproaches, mingled with abuse and menaces; and without waiting to employ the good offices of queen Matilda, through whose kindly influence it is possible he might have obtained reasonable conditions of peace, he .departed from Northampton the same hour.* In the spring, Henry once more committed the domestic a£fairs of his kingdom to the care of Matilda, and having levied an enormous tax on his subjects, to support the expenses of the war, embarked for Normandy. Matilda was principally em- ployed, during the king's absence, in superintending the mag- nificent buildings at New Windsor, which were founded by Henry, and in the completion of the royal apartments in the Tower of London. She, as well as Henry, patronised Gun- dulph, the episcopal architect, to whom England is indebted for the most magnificent and lasting of her public buildings. Many useful public works, to which we have before alluded, furnished, under her auspices, employment for the working d? J>ses, and impro/ed the general condition of the people. "While civilization and the arts of peace were rapidly pro- gressing, through the beneficial influence of Matilda, at home, the arms of her royal consort were luiiversally trimiphant in Normandy. The unfortunate Robert Courtb with his young son William, (who was called Clito, or royai heir,) with the earl of Mortaigne and all the nobles of their party, were taken prisoners at the decisive battle of Tinchebray, which was fought on the vigil of St. Michael, exactly forty years after the famous battle of Hastings. The Enghsh were much elated at this circumstance, whereby they flattered their national pride with the idea that the husband of their beloved queen, of Saxon lineage, had wiped away the dishonour of the Norman conquest, by subjugating Normandy to the yoke of England. Edgar Atheling, Matilda's uncle, was taken fight- ing for his friend Robert of Normandy, besides four hundred valiant knights.' Henry instantly released the aged prince, for love of the queen his niece, say some of the chroniclers of * Siuon AunoLt. ' W. Malmcsbury. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 149 bemptuous ssailed his ibuse aud offices of iS possible peace, lie i domestic idng levied Qses of the apally em- j the mag- )imded by 3nts in the lised Gun- s indebted I buildings, re alluded, le working leople. apidly pro- i, at home, imphant in with his heir,) with arty, were ray, which brty years were much ered their eir beloved lour of the e yoke of iken iight- ir hundred ed prince, oniclers of iry. that period, and at her intercession settled a pension upon, him for life. Henry, now at the summit of his ambition, having verified the death-bed prediction of his father the Conqueror that ho should unite in his own person the inheritance of both his brothers, returned triumphantly to England with his unfor- tunate captives. Robert he sent to CardiflF-castle, where for a time his confinement was only a sort of honourable restraint, if we may credit the account which Henry himself gives of it in a letter to the pope : " I have not," says he, " imprisoned him as an enemy ; but I have placed him in a royal castle, as a noble stranger broke down with many troubles, and I supply him abundantly with every delicacy and enjoyment." Henry and Matilda kept their Easter this year at Bath, and, during the summer, introduced the popular custom of making a royal progress through different parts of England.^ They held their court the following year, for the first time, at New Windsor, then called, from the picturesque winding of the river Thames, Windlesore. This beautiful retreat was originally used as a hunting-seat by William the Conqueror, who, for better securi^^y of his person, converted it into a fortress or castle ; but the extensive alterations and improve- ments which the elegant tastes of the Beauclerc sovereign and his accomplished consort Matilda of Scotland efifected, first gave to Windsor-castle the magnificent and august character, as a royal residence, which has rendered it ever since a favourite abode with succeeding sovereigns. In the year 1108, the affairs of Normandy requiring the presence of the king, another temporary separation took place between Matilda and her royal lord. Indeed, from the time that the duchy of T*^ormandy was subjected to his sway, it be- came a matter of necessity, in order to preserve his popularity with his continental subjects, to pass a considerable portion of his time among them : meanwhile, the peace and integral pros- perity of England were best promoted by the presence of Matilda, who formed the bond of union between Henry of Normandy and the Saxon race. Therefore it appears to have * Suun CLroniclc 150 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. h If t I 1 ' been a measure of political expediency for her to remain with her splendid court at Westminster or London^ endearing herself daQy more and more to the people by her works of princely charity and the public benefits which she was constantly labouring to promote. Thus we see, on accurate examination, that, contrary to the assertions of one or two paradoxical writers, who have assumed that Matilda was not treated with the affection and respect that were her due in wedded life, she enjoyed a degree of power and influence in the state perfectly unknown to the Saxon queens. She was so nobly dowered, withal, that in after reigns the highest demand ever made on the part of a queen-consort was, that she should be endowed with a dower equal to that of Matilda of Scotland.^ By close examination of the earUest authorities, we find, that the first parUaments held by the Anglo-Norman dynasty were the fruits of the virtuous influence of this excellent queen over the mind of her husband. But as the fact, whether parliaments were ever held before the reigns of Henry III. and Edward I. has been a point of great contest among modem historians, we take leave to quote the following lines from Robert of Gloucester in support of the assertion, — first, that parliaments were held ; and next, that they were held through the influence of Matilda •} " When his daughter was ten years old, to council there he drew, On a Whit-Sunday, a great parliament he name [held] At Westminster, nobis enow, that much folk came.'" Piers of Langtoft distinctly points out the classes of whom Matilda advised Henry to take counsel ; viz. barons, lords of towns, and burgesses. Here are the lines : — " Maid the good queen gave him in council To love all his folk and leave all his turpeile, [disputing,] To bear him with his barons thut held of him their fees, [fcofs,] And to lords of towns and burgesses of cities : v Through council of dame Maid, a kind woman and true, Instead of hatred old, there now was love all new ; Now love they ftiU well the barons and the king. The king does ilk a deal at their bidding." * Tyrrell. • Ibid. vol. ii. p. 430. The edition is royal octavo. ' Robert of Gloucester died before he completed the reign of Henry III. j consequently, if the first parliament were held in that of Edward I., he could not even have mentioned such legislative Msemblies without possessing the gift cf prophecy. ■yr^i-:-^i-!^:^'-\y MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 151 Robert of Gloucester, from first to last, speaks of queen I.latilda as an active agent in the government of England, and the restorer and upholder of the Saxon form of legis- lature, whose system was that of a representative constitution. He says, — " The goodness that king Henry and the good qaeen Mold Did to this land ne may never he told." The year 1109 must have been an era of eventful interest to Matilda. Her royal husband, having spent the winter and spring in Normandy,* returned to England in the summer, to visit her and their infant family, and kept court with uncommon splendour in his new palace at Windsor, which had been com- pleted in his absence. It was there that he received the ambassadors who came to soHcit the hand of the princess Matilda for the emperor Henry V.'' The proposal was eagerly accepted by Henry Beauclerc; and the princess, then just turned of five years old, was solemnly espoused by proxy to her royal suitor, who was forty years her senior ; but, on account of her tender age, the infant bride was allowed for the present to remain under the care of the queen her mother.' The fact that Henry's numerous illegitimate children were many of them adults at this period, proves that they were bom in his youth, and at all events before his marriage with Matilda of Scotland. In the year 1109, the mighty Norman chief Fitz-Haymon, lord of Glamorgan, dying without sons, left the lady Aimabel, his young heiress, to the guardianship of the king. Henry, wishing to secure so rich a prize for his eldest natural son Robert, proposed him to his fair ward, as a suitable husband for her. But the haughty Norman damsel, though only sixteen, intrepidly rephed, " That the ladies of her house wei-e not accustomed to wed nameless persons.'' Then the king answered, " Neither shalt thou, damsel j for I will give my son a fair name, by which he and his sotis shall be called. Robert Fitzroy shall be his name hencefortli." — " But," objected the prudent heiress of Glamorgan, " a name so given * Saxon Annals. ' M. Paris. Huntingdon. * M. Paris. 152 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. is nothing. Where are the lands, and what the lordship, of the man you will me to wed, sire ?" — " Truly," responded the king, with a smUe, " thy question is a shrewd one, damsel : I wiU endow my son Eobert with the lands and honours of Gloucester, and by that title shall he henceforth be called." The lady Aimabel made no ftuther demur, we are told, but wedded the king^s son without delay. The fact was, the king was generously bestowing upon his son Eobert the lands and honours which had been granted or sold to Fitz-Haymon, her deceased father, by William Eufiis, once the patrimony of the luckless Brihtric Meaw ;* and the young lady, who seems to have been gifted with no ordinary share of worldly wisdom, thought, no doubt, that she had better hold the lands and honours of Gloucester on the tenure of wife-service to the king's son, than lose them altogether. Such were the dealings . of the Anglo-Norman sovereigns with their wards. The high- spirited heiress of Fitz-Haymon was, however, fortunate in the marriage that was thus arranged for her by her royal guardian. Bobert Fitzroy was the princely earl of Gloucester who so valiantly upheld the title of his half-sister, the empress Matilda, to the English crown in the succeeding reign. A tax of three shillings on every hide of land was levied to pay the portion of the princess Matilda, by which the sum of 824,000/. was raised ; and the princess was sent over to her imperial husband with a magnificent retinue. She was espoused to him in the cathedral of Mentz,'^ and solemnly crowned by the archbishop of Cologne. Queen Matilda was in the next year left to keep court alone, in consequence of a formidable insurrection in Normandy in favour of William Clito, son of the unfortunate Robert Courthose, which was privately fomented by the earl of Flanders. King Henry, perceiving that all classes of his continental subjects were averse to the yoke of an absent sovereign, considered it expedient to forego the society of his queen and children for a period of nearly two years, while he held his separate state in Normandy. ' See the preceding biography, and Domesday-book. ' Simeon of Durham. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 153 In the year 1112, we find the king and queen' were together at Winchester, with their court, where they personally assisted at the removal of the bodies of Alfred the Great and his queen Alswitha from the ruinous chapel of Newminster, close to Winchester cathedral, to the magnificent abbey of Hyde,* founded and endowed by Henry and Matilda, as a more suitable shrine for the relics of their illustrious progenitor, — from whom, be it remembered, Henry, as well as his Saxon queen, was descended in the eighth generation, through the marriage of Elstrith, the daughter of Alfred, with an earl of Flanders, his maternal ancestor. Here, too, the bones of Edward the Elder and his queen, the immediate ancestors of Matilda, were at the same time translated.^ The following year Henry was again in Normandy, where he entered into an amicable treaty with one of his most troublesome enemies, Fulk earl of Anjou, by a matrimonial alliance between his heir, prince William, and Alice, the daughter of that earl. The education of Matilda^s eldest daughter being considered as completed in 1114, the marriage was fuUy solemnized between her and the emperor Henry V., and they were both crowned a second time, with great pomp, in the cathedral at Mentz. The young empress was then only in her twelfth year. Notwithstanding this great disparity in age, it appeai-s that the youthfiil bride enjoyed a reasonable share of happiness with her mature consort, by whom she was treated w■^h the greatest indulgence, while her great beauty and majestic caii tage won the hearts of the German princes, and obtained for her unbounded popularity. Matilda's eldest son, prince William, (or the Atheling, as he was more generally styled by the Enghsh,) was, in the year 1115, conducted by the king his father with great pomp into Normandy, where he was presented to the states as the heir of the duchy, and fealty was sworn to him by the barons ' ArchiBologio. ' Henry VIII. brutally desecrated the place where reposed the remains ol these patriot sovereigns. Englishmen ot the eighteenth century, more barbarous still, converted the holy fune into a bridewell, and the bones of Alfred were by felon hands exhumed and dispersed. ^ Archoiologia. 154 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. \ t i I I and freemen. This prince was then only twelve years old. He returned with his royal father to England in July, and the following year Henry summoned that memorable parliament, mentioned by Holinshed as the first held since the Norman conquest, to meet at Salisbury, and there appointed the young prince as his successor. William of Malmesbury says, " Every freeman of England and Normandy, of whatsoever degree, or to whatsoever lord his vassal service was due, was made to perform homage, and swear fealty to William, son of king Henry and queen Matilda." The Easter festival was kept this year by the royal family at Odiham-castle, in Hampshire. Matilda passed the Christmas festival of the same year, in the company of her royal husband, at the abbey of St. Alban's.' They were the guests of abbot Kichard, who had then brought to a happy conclusion the building of that magnificent fabric. He invited the queen, who was one of its benefactresses, the Idng, and the archbishop of Bouen, and many prelates and nobles, to assist at the consecration of the abbey, which took place Christmas-day, 1115. The royal pair, with their suite of nobles and ladies, were lodged in the abbey, and entertained from December 25th to January 6th. The queen, sanctioned by Henry, gave, by charter, two manors to St. Alban's. The existence of a portrait of queen Matilda is certainly owing to this visit ; for in a rich illuminated volume, called the Golden Book of St. Alban's, (now in the British Museum,) may still be seen a miniature of the royal benefactress.* The queen is " Newcome's History of St. Alban's, pp. 62, 93. ' Cottonian MSS. Nero, D, 7. A beautiful and accurate copy from the original has been drawn by M. Kearney at the expense of Henry Howard, esq., of Corby, the descendant of Matilda, and presented by him to the authors of this work. It corrects, in many particulars, the errors of an engraving published by Strutt. We have the opportunity, in this new edition, of describing Matilda's porti-ait from an examination of the Golden Book itself, from which Mr. Harding, the celc« brated antiquarian artist, has made our accompanying illustration. The Golden Book of St. Alban's is a sort of conventual album, in which were entered the portraits ot all the benefactors of the abbey, together with an abstract of their donations. Five different artists, of various degrees of merit, may be traced in tliis collection. Some of the miniatures are exquisitely designed and coloured, others are barbarous and puerile in their execution ; some of the portraits are represented holding well-fiUed purses, others displaying the charters, with large pendant seals, which years old. y, and the Etrliament, 3 Norman the young 8, "Every degree, or } made to a of king was kept lampshire. le year, in t. Alban's.' 3n brought ;ent fabric, tresses, the relates and which took their suite pntertained sanctioned m's. The y owing to the Golden ,) may still le queen is tm the original esq., of Corby, I of thifl work, ihed by Strutt. itilda's porti-ait rding, the cele- The Golden ed the portrwts heir donations, this collection. '8 are barbarous sented holding nt seals, which MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 155 attired in the royal mantle of scarlet, lined with white fur ; it covers the knees, and is very long. The mantle is square to the bust. A cordon of scarlet and gold, with a large tassel, passes through two gold knobs : she holds the cordon in her left hand. She wears a tight kirtle of dark blue, buttoned down the tront with gold. Her sleeves fit close to the arms, and are scarlet like the mantle. A white veil is arranged in a square form on the brow, and is surmounted by a gold crown, formed of three large trefoils, and gold oreillettes appear beneath the veil on each side of the cheeks. The veil flows behind her shoulders with lappets. Matilda is very fair in complexion: she has a long throat, and elegant form of tall proportions. She displays with her right hand the charter she gave the abbey, from which hangs a very large red seal, whereon, without doubt, was impressed her effigy in grand reUef. She sits on a carved stone bench, on which is a scarlet cushion figured with gold leaves. This cushion is in the form of a woolpack, but has four tassels of gold and scarlet. A piece of figured cloth is hung at the back of her seat. There are no armorial bearings, — one proof of the authenticity of the portrait. " Queen Matildis gave us BeUwick and Lillebum," is the notation appended by the monks of St. Alban's to this portrait. About this period, the stately new palace at Woodstock being completed, and the noble park, reckoned the finest at that time in England, having been walled round, Henry stocked it with a curious menat^erie of wild beasts, the first zoological collection ever seen m this country. It is described in very quaint terms by Stowe, who says, " The king craved secured broad lands to church and poor. It is true that Matilda's portrait was not entered till the fourteenth century, when the book was first commenced ; but the style of dress, together with the form of the throne on which the queen is seated, prove that the original design was drawn in the queen's own day; for the artists of the middle ages drew only what they saw, and had the limner been inclined to give a supposititious portrait of queen Matilda, he would have designed her flgm-e clad in the costume of Edward the Third's era, and seated in the high-backed gothic chair of state on which royal persons were enthroned since the days of Edward I., as may be seen by reference to any collection of engravings from regal seals ; instead of which, Matilda is seen seated on the primitive stone bench of Anglo-Saxon royalty, represented on the seals of the Anglo-Normaa and early Plantagcnet nionarchs. 156 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. from other kings lions, leopards, lynxes, and camels, and other curious beasts, of which England hath none. Among others, there was a strange animal called a stryx, or porcupine, sent him by William of MontpeUer ; which beast," says the worthy chronicler, "is, among the Africans, counted as a kind of hedgehog, covered with pricking bristles, which they shoot out naturally on the dogs that pursue them.'' Unbounded hospitality was one of the social virtues of this peaceful reign,* especially at this peculiar era, when the benignant example of the good queen had, for a period of nearly seventeen years, produced the happiest eflPect in soften- ing the manners of the haughty and powerful chieftains who were at that time the magnates of the land. The Norman families, at this period, were beginning to practise some of the peaceful pm*suits of the Anglo-Saxons, and ladies of high rank considered it no infringement on the dignity of their station to attend to the profitable concerns of the poultry- yard and the dairy. The c6untess Constance of Chester, though the wife of Hugh Lupus, the king's first cousin, kept a herd of kine, and made good Cheshire cheeses, three of which she presented to the archbishop of Canterbury. Giraldus Cambriensis bears honourable testimony to the excellence of the produce of the ' cheese-shire ' in that day. A fresh revolt in Normandy' deprived Matilda of the society of her husband and son in 1117. The king, according to Eadmer, returned and spent Christmas with her, as she was at that time in a declining state of health j' leaving prince William with his Norman baronage, as a pledge for his return.'* His sojourn was, of necessity, very brief. He was compelled by the distracted state of affairs in Normandy to rejoin his * The following verses from an ancient MS., quoted by Collins, affords an interesting witness of this fact. They were inscribed by sir William Fitz- William, the lord of Sprotborough, on an ancient cross, which was demolished at the Reformation : — " Whoso is hungry, and lists well to eat, Let him come to Sprotborough to his meat ; And for a night and a day His horse shall have both corn and hay. And no one shall ask him, ' v ^cn he goeth awayP' " ,dmcr, p. 118 ; sec Rapin, vol. i. 199. «Ofde a e A i„ OUAUU .xxiiiuuS. 4 v.. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 157 and other ig others, pine, sent be worthy 0, kind of shoot out les of this when the period of in soften- ftains who B Norman se some of es of high y of their le ponltry- f Chester, ousin, kept 3e of which Giraldus :cellence of the society icording to as she was mig prince his return."* i compelled rejoin his ns, affordd an William Fitz- demolished at army there, — Matilda never saw either her husband or her son again. Eesigned and perfect in all the duties of her high calling, the dying queen remained, during this trying season, in her palace at Westminster,^ lonely though surrounded with all the splendour of royalty ; enduring with patience the separation from her beloved consort and children, and affording, to the last hour of her life, a beautiful example of piety and self- denial. She expired on the 1st of May, 1118,* passionately lamented by every class of the people, to whom her virtues and wisdom had rendered her inexpressibly dear. According to the most ancient chroniclers, the king her husband was much afflicted when the intelligence of Matilda's death reached him, amidst the turmoil of battle and siege in Normandy.^ Piers of Langtoft alludes to the grief felt by the royal widower, at the loss of his amiable consort, in terms of the most homely simpUcity : — " Now is the king sorry, her death doth him gram" [grieve.] Hardyng's rhyming Chronicle produces the following quaint stanzas on the death of Matilda, and the sorrow of king Henry for her loss : — ** The year of Christ a thousand was fiill clear. One hundred eke and therewithal eighteen, When good queen Maude was dead and laid on bier. At Westminster buryed, as well was seen ; For heaviness of which the king, I ween, To Normandy then went with his son The duke William, and there with him did won." Hardyng is, however, mistaken in supposing that Henry was with his beloved consort at the time of her decease. The same chronicler gives us another stanza on the death of Henry, in which he, in yet more positive terms, speaks of the con- jugal affection which united the Norman sovereign to his Saxon queen : — •* Of Christe's date was there a thousand year. One hundred also, and nine and thirty mo. Buried at Bedynge, as well it doth appear. William of Mulmcsbury. ' Saxon Annals. llobert of Qlouocstcr. 158 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. If 1/ -■ i In the abbye which there he founded bo. Of monkes black, whenever they ride or go, Tliat pray for him and queen Maude his wife, ' ' " Who either other loved withouten strife." Another chronicler says, " Nothing happened to trouble the king, save the death of his queen Matilda, the very mirror of piety, humility, and princely boimty/" The same causes that had withheld the king from attending Matilda in her dying illness, prevented him frx)m honouring her obsequies with his presence. Matilda was buried on St. Plulip's-day iu Westminster-abbey, on the right side of her royal uncle, Edward the Confessor.* Great disputes, however, have existed as to the place of her iuterment,^ which has been contested with almost as much zeal as was displayed by the seven cities of Greece, in claiming the honour of having given buth to Homer. The monks of Heading averred that their royal patroness was buried in her own stately abbey there, where her illustrious consort was afterwards interred. The rhyming chroniclers insist that she was buried in St. Paid's cathedral, and that her epitaph was placed in Westminster- abbey. These are the words of Piers of Laugtoft, — " At London, in St. Paul's, in tomb she is laid, Christ, then, of her soul have mercie t If any one will toitten [know] of her storie, At Westminster it is written readiUfi" that is to say, so that it may be plainly read. Tyrrell declares that she was buried at Winchester, but that tablets to her memory were set up in many churches, — an honoiu' which she shares with queen Elizabeth. The following passage from Weever testifies that the mortal remains of Matilda, ' the good queen,' repose near the relics of her royal uncle, Edward the Confessor, in the solemn temple foimded by that last Saxon monarch, and which had been completed under her careful superintendence. "Here lieth in West- minster-abbey, without any tomb, Matilda or Maud, daughter of Malcolm Canmore, king of Scots, and wife of Henry I. of England, who brought to him children, William, Richard, and ' Florence of WorcMttT. ' Ponnant'ri London. Robert of Oloucoster. ' AocortUng to Stowo, her grave was in the vostry of the abbey. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 159 trouble the y mirror of ott attending I honouring iried on St. side of her Bs, however, ch has been ayed by the laving given id that their Eibbey there, erred. The a St. Paul's V^estminster- \d. Tyrrell that tablets — an honour he following remains of of her royal aple founded en completed th m West- lud, daughter Henry I. of Richard, and he abbey. Mary, who perished by shipwreck, and likewise Maud, who was wife to Henry, the fifth emperor. She died the first day of May, 1118."' She had an excellent epitaph made to her commendation, whereof four lines only remain : — " Prospera non laetam fecere, nee aspera tristem, Aspera risus erant, prospera terror erant ; Non decor efficit fragileiu, non seeptra supcrbam. Sola potens humilis, sola pudica decens." Henry of Huntingdon, the chronicler, no mean poet, was the author of these Latin lines, of which the following is a faithful version : — " Prosperity could not inflate her mind, Lowly in greatness, as in ills resigned : iiuty deceived not, nor did crowns efface Her best adornment, woman's modest grace." WiUiam of Malmesbury, speaV^^^jg of the death of Matilda of Scotland, says, " She was snatuied away from her country, to the great loss of her people, but to her OAvn advantage ; for her funeral being splendidly solemnized at Westminster, she entered into her rest, and her spirit manifested, by no trifling indications, that she was a resident in heaven." Some attempts, we suppose, therefore, must have been made by the monks of Westminster to establish for this great and good queen a deceptive posthumous fame, by the testimony of miracles performed at her tomb, or pretended revelations from her spirit to her contemporaries in the flesh. Our marvellous chronicler, however, confines liimself to the above significant hints, and takes his leave of Matilda in these words : " She died willingly, leaving the throne after a reign of seventeen yeai-s and six months, experiencing the fate of her family, who all died in the flower of their age." Many curious remains still exist of the old palace in West- minster, where Matilda kept state as queen, and ended her life. This venerable abode of our early sovereigns was originally built by Canute, and, being devastated by fire, was rebuilt by Edward the Confessor with such enduring sohdity, that antiquaries still point out difflerent portions which were indubitably the v/ork of the royal Saxon, and therefore must > Woever's Fimeral Monuments. 160 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. (..1 have formed part of the residence of his niece. Fart of the old palace of Westminster is still to be seen iu the build- ings near Cotton-garden, and the lancet-shaped windows about Old Palace-yard are declared to appertain to it.' Cotton- garden was the private garden of the ancient palace, and therefore belonged especially to queen Matilda. It would be idle to dwell on Westminster-hall and Westminster-abbey, though the original sites of both were included in the pre- cincts of this palace, because one was rebuilt from the ground by Richard II., and the other by Henry III. Great devas- tation was made in the royal abode of the Anglo-Saxon queen, by the late disastrous conflagration of the house of lords and its adjacent apartments, which all belonged to it. The house of lords was an antique oblong room ; it was the hall of state of Matilda's palace, and called the white-hall, but without any reference to the vast palace of Whitehall, to which the seat of English royalty was transferred in the reign of Hem-y VIII. As the Painted-chamber, still entire, is well known to have been the bedchamber of Edward the Confessor, and the apartment in which he expired,^ there can be no doubt but that it was the state bedchamber of his niece. A curious room in Cotton-house was the private oratory of the Confessor, and was assuredly used by Matilda for the same purpose ; while at the south end of the court of Requests are to be seen two mighty arches, the zig-zag work of which ranks its architectiu'e among the most ancient existing in our country. This was once a deserted state-chamber' of the royal Saxon palace, but it has been used lately by the house of commons. There is a statue of Matilda in Rochester cathedral, which forms the pilaster to the west door ; that of king Henry, her husband, forms another. The hair of the queen depends over either shoulder, in two long plaits, below the knees. Her gar- ments are long and flowing, and she holds an open scroll of ' Pennant. • Howell. • Tlio Appellation of court of Boqnpsta has no reference to modem lepal pro- cDcdinmi. It waa the feudal court of the high steward of Englanxl. It wat iised by the houNe of commonH after the destruction of St. Stephvu'i chapel, ^liile the lords obttdiicd possession of tlie Pabtcd-chamber. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 161 t of the e build- ws about Cotton- ace, and lyould be er-abbey, the pre- e ground lat devas- )n queen, lords and Q J it was irhite-ball, itebaU, to the reign re, is well Confessor, jan be no oiece. A )ry of the the same iquests are of which sxisting in amber' of ely by the Iral, which lenry, her pends over Her gar- in scroll of cm legal pro- ana. It WM )honi chapel, parchment in her hard. Her features are defaced, and indeed 80 coK'pletely bro^ .'I tfay, that no idea of what manner of countenance she hetl ova be gathered from the remains. King Henry proved the sincerity of his regard for Matilda, by confirming all her charters after her death. Madox, in his History of the Exchequer, quotes one of that monarch's charters, reciting " that he had confirmed to the priory of the Holy Trinity in London the grant of his queen Matilda, for the good of her soul, of 251. on the farm of the city of Exeter, and commands his chief justiciar and the barons of his exchequer to constrain the sheriJQT of Devonshire to pay the same to the said canons."^ Matilda's household was chiefly composed of Saxon ladies, if we may trust the evidence of Christian names. The maids of honour were Emma, Gunilda, and Christina, pious ladies and fiill of alms-deeds, like their royal mistress. After the death of the queen, these ladies retired to the hermitage of Kilbium, near London, where there was a holy well, or medi- cinal spring. This was changed into a priory' in 1128, as the deed says, " for the reception of these three virgins of God, sacred damsels who had belonged to the chamber of Matilda, the good queen-consort to Henry I."' History only particularizes two surviving children of Matilda of Scotland and Henry I. ; but Gervase, the monk of Can- terbury, says she had, besides William and the empress MatQda, a son named Kichard. Hector Boethius mentions a daughter of hers, named Euphemia. The Saxon Chronicle and Robert of Gloucester both speak of her second son Richard, and Piers of Langtoft says, " The two princes, her sons, were both in Normandy when Matilda died." Prince WiUiam the Atheling was destined to see England no more. During the remainder of the year 1118 he wap fighting, by his father's side, against the invading force of the king of ' Cluurter Antiq. Nn. 16. • On its site Kte a pnWic-lioufie and toa-gardoiiH, now called Kilbum-WellB. * The original deed, presenHnl in the Cottonian MSS. Clttudiun. The njtpcl* lation given t^) their ufflcc, domicella, proves their rank wu uoble, ns thia wurd will bo mum apnliod evoa to the daugh.t^Ts of cn^wrors. VOL. I. M. 162 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. France and the partisans of his cousin WiUiam Clito. On one occasion^ when the noble war-horse and its rich caparisons belongLQg to that gallant but unfortunate prince, having been abandoned during a hasty retreat, were captured, and Henry presented this prize to his darling heir, the noble youth gene- rously sent them back, with a courteous message, to his rival kmsman and namesake.^ His royal father, king Henry, did not disdain to unitate the magnanimous conduct of his youthful son after the memorable battle in which the standard of France was taken : when the favourite charger of Louis le Gros feU into his hands, he returned it to the French monarch the next day. The king of France, as suzerain of Normandy, at the general pacification required of Henry the customary homage for his feof. This the victorious monarch considered derogatory to the dignity of a king of England to perform, and therefore deputed the office to pi-ince William, who was then invested with the duchy, and received the oath of fealty from the states.'^ The prince solemnly espoused his betrothed bride Alice, the daughter of Fidk earl of Anjou, June 1119. King Henry changed her name to Matilda, out of respect, it is said, for the memory of his mother ; but more probably from a tender regard for his deceased consort, Matilda of Scotland, the love of his youth, and the mother of his children. The marriage was celebrated at Lisieux,^ in the county of Bur- gundy ; and the prince remained in Normandy with his young bride, attended by all the youthful nobihty of England and the duchy, passing the time gaily with feasts and pageants till the 25th of November, in the year 1120; when king Henry (who had been neaily two years absent from his kingdom) proceeded with him and an illustrious retinue to Barfleur,* where the king and his heir embarked for England the same night, in separate ships. Fitz- Stephen, the captain of the * Blanche Ncf,' (the finest vessel in the Norman navy,) demanded the honour of con- veying the heir of England home, because liis father had iSiuuu Aniitila. » r\ ] • ir!< .!!_ '' OrduricuH VitaHs. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 163 to. On iparisons ing been i Henry ith gene- his rival J, did not youthful udard of Louis le monarch , at the T homage erogatory therefore invested from the Led bride 9. King it is said, y from a Scotland, ;n. The of Bur- lis young land and jeants till ig Henry tingdom) Harfleur/ the same the finest of con- ther had II commanded the Mora, the ship which brought William the Conqueror to the shores of England. His petition was granted; and the prince, with his gay and splendid com- pany, entered the fatal bark with hght hearts, and com- menced their voyage with mirth and minstrelsy. The prince incautiously ordered three casks of wine to be given to the ship's crew; and the mariners were, in consequence, for the most part intoxicated when they sailed, about the close of day. Prince WiUiam, who was desirous of overtaldng the rest of the fleet, pressed Fitz-Stephen to crowd his sails, and put out his sweeps. Fitz-Stephen, having named the ' white ship ' as the swiftest galley iu the world, to make good his boast and oblige his royal passenger, caused his men to stretch with all their might to the oars, and did every thing to accelerate the speed of his Hght bark. While the ' Blanche Nef ' was rushing through the water with the most dangerous velocity, she suddenly struck on a rock, called the ' Catte-raze,' with such impetuosity, that she started several planks, and began to sink. All was instant horror and confusion. The boat was, however, let down, and the young heir of England, with several of his youthful companions, got into it, and having cleared the ship, might have reached the Norman shore in safety ; but the cries of his illegitimate sister, Matilda countess of Perche, who distinctly called on him by name for succour, moving him with a tender impulse of compassion, he com- manded the boat back to take her in. Unfortmiately, the moment it neared the ship, such numbers sprang into it, that it instantly sank with its precious freight; all on board perished, and of the three hundred persons who embarked m the * white ship,' but one soul escaped to tell the dismal tale. This person was a poor butcher of Rouen, named Berthould, who cUmbed to the top of the mast, and was the next morning rescued by some fishennen. Fitz-Stephen, the master of the luckless ' white ship,' was a strong maiiner, and stoutly sup- ported himself for some hom*s in the water, till he saw Berthould on the mast, and calling to him, asked if the boat with the heir of England had escancd : but when the butcher, who had witnessed the whole catastrophe, rephed " that ail M 2 164 MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. were drowned and dead/' the strong man's force failed him ; he ceased to battle with the waves, and sank to rise no more.' The report of this disaster reached England the next day. Theobald of Blois, the king's nephew, waa the first who heard it i but he dared not inform his uncle of the calamity which had rendered his house desolate. The Saxon chronicler says, there perished another son of Henry and Matilda, named Richard, and also Richard, a natural son of the king > Matilda, his natural daughter, countess of Ferche; Richard earl of Chester, his cousin, with his bride, the young lady Lucy of Blois, daughter of Henrjr's sister Adela, and the flower of the juvenile nobility, who are mentioned by the Saxon chronicler as a multitude of '* incomparable folk." King Henry had reached England with his fleet in safety, and for three days was permitted to remain in a state of the most agonizing suspense and uncertainty respecting the fate of his children. No one choosing to become the bearer of such evil tidings, at length Theobald de Blois, finding it could no longer be concealed, instructed a favourite httle page to commimicate the mournful news to the bereaved father ; and the child, entering the royal presence with a sorrowful step, knelt down at Henry's feet, and told him that the prince and all on board the ' white ship' were lost. The great Henry was so thunderstruck with this dreadful news, that he staggered and sank upon the floor in a deep swoon, in which state he remained for many hours. When he recovered, he broke iuto the bitterest lamentations, magnifying at the same time the great qualities of his heir and the loss he had sustained ; and the chroniclers all agree that he was never again seen to smile.' The body of prince Wilham was never found, though diligent ' Thierry's Anglo-Normans. • King Henry's grief for the loss of his heir did not prevent him from endeavouring to make some advantage of it in a worldly point of view, hy wrongftiUy detaining the dower of his young widow, who had escaped the fete of the unfortunate prince, by sailing in the king's ship instead of the fatal ' Blanche Nef.' She returned to her father, Fulk earl of Ai\jou, and remaining constant to the memory of William the AthoHng, was veiled a nun in the abbey of Fontevraud. The carl of Aiyou was so highly exasperated at the detention of her appanage, that he immediately gave her sister in marriage to William Clito, the son of KiMiert of Normandy, and assisted him to assort hU claims against Hcni^. — Ualuiflsbury'B Cbroniclos. MATILDA OF SCOTLAND. 165 iled him; ao more.* next day. rho heard ity which icier says, a, named ; Matnda, d earl of y of Blois, le juvenile dcler as a in safety, ;ate of the g the fate bearer of ig it could le page to itherj and jwful step, prince and Henry was ( staggered ;h state he broke into e time the Etined; and •n to smile.' [gh diligent ent him from it of view, by ped the fete of fetal ' Blanche ng constant to of Fontevraud. her appanage, », the son of inst Henry.— search was made for ic along the shores. It was regarded as an augmentation of the calamity, that his dehcate form, instead of receiving Christian burial, became a prey to the monsters of the deep.* It is Henry of Huntingdon who exults so uncharitably over the , catastrophe of the ' white ship,' in the following burst of poetic eloquence : — " The proud youth ! he thought of his fu- ture reign, when he said ' he would yoke the Saxons like oxen.' But God said, ' It shall not be, thou impious one; it shall not be.' And so it has come to pass : that brow has worn no crown of gold, but has been dashed against the rocks of the ocean. It was God himself who would not that the son of the Norman should again see England."' In the last act of his life, William Atheling manifested a spirit so noble, so tenderly compassionate, and forgetful of selfish considerations, that we can only say it was worthy of the son of Matilda, the good queen.' ' William of Malmesbury. * Brompton also speaks mifevourably of this unfortunate young prince; but it should be remembered that England was a divided nation at that period, and that the Saxon chroniclers wrote in the very gall of bitterness against those whom the Norman historians commended. Implicit credence is not to be given to the assertions of either. It is only by reading both, and careftilly weighing and collating fect«, that the truth is to be ehcited. ' Matilda's otdy surviving child, the empress Matilda, thus became king Henry's heiress-presumptive. She was the first female who claimed the regal office in England. The events of her life are so closely interwoven with those of the two succeeding queens, Adelicia, and Matilda of Borlogne, her royal con- temporaries, that to avoid the tedium of repetition, and also to preserve the chronological stream of history in unbroken unity, which is an important object, we must refer our readers to the lives of those queens for the personal history of this princess, fW>m whom her present majesty queen Victoria derives her title to thr crown of England, ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE, 8URNAMED THE FAIR MAID OF BRABANT; SECOND QUEEN OF HENRY I. \i 'li % V I. Adelicia's beauty — Imperial descent from Charlemagne — Standard embroidered by Adelicia — Preserved at Liege — Adelicia sought in marriage by Henry I. — Richly dowered — Embarks for England with Henry — King and queen parishioners of archbishop of Canterbury — Violence of archbishop — He crowns Adelicia — Eulc^ies on her beauty — Her prudence — Encouragement of literature — Empress Matilda — Adelicia childless — Empress Matilda kept in Adelicia's chamber — Difficult position of the queen — Friendship with her step-daughter — Second marriage of the empress — Adelicia's conjugal virtues — Matilda rettims to England — Remains with the queen — Birth of prince Henry — Death of king Henry — Adehcia's respect for his memory — Her troubadour writes king Henry's life — Her second marriage — William Albini — Her dowry — Palace — Receives empress Matilda — Message to king Stephen — Conjugal hap- piness of Adelicia — Her charter — Her portrait — Her children — Charitable foundations at Arundel — Her younger brother abbot of Affligham — AdeUcia retires to Affligham nunnery, in Flanders — Dies there — Retard of her death — Buried — Her issue by Albini — Adelicia ancestor of two of our queens. This princess, to whom contemporary chroniclers have given the name of " the fair Maid of Brabant," is one of the most obscure characters in the illustrious catalogue of Enghsh queens. Tradition, and her handmaid Poetry, have, however, spoken bright things of her; and the surviving historical records of her life, though brief, are all of a nature tending to confirm the good report which the verses of the Proven9al8 have pre- served of her virtues and accomphshments. Descended, through both her parents, from the imperial Carlovingian line/ Adehcia boasted the most illustrious blood ' Howard Memorials. -iJ .- Ul L' -■ . .,. Ji. ! n NT; ^ f rd embroidered * by Henry I. — ■.-'^; ng and queen ;\ 1 )p — He crowns '«L nt of literature fl^v t in Adelicia's ri|m\ ' step-daughter ■ )^^p ^ rtues — Matilda <|| "% *■•..;■ rince Henry — ler troubadour t I i^-fW'i''' ^^UP^SI^KM —Her dowry — -Conjugal hap- 1 ^P^"- ^^.■ m — Charitable i . i '^-r vi^' jham — Adelicia t i-:^: d of her death iP' r queens. have given i 3f the most jUsh queens. ver, spoken 1 records of to confirm 8 have pre- - he imperial trious blood ^ w 4 \ ' i .» ''/,h .■<'>. '"Sf .■:? ■IP;*! y)^- 4- . ) Av t If A ! ! . ^V?%V, l*».' I(< III Af*KLirT,\ OF LOrVAI^E, KtftNAMF^ '^Wn ¥^m-HAli) 0¥ WnAUANT; ^#^iWy Afleliciii — I*rea<>rve(i at Liege — Adi'licia souj;:lit in TniHi-viage by Ilviirv 1. — Richly dowored— KnibrtrlcK for Kiif^laiid with Ileniy — King and cjiitfii purishimuTi of sirchinshtij) of Oimtcrlntry — Vif)l',vk% ■••>5':^i-^')ti ■-•;<-» vv*. Mutilila .I'i^'" -J t'^' ,^ ir»;^!SS»k# ''■ !**'-«!•.■>! t'fe i»>/wi««r« I4»»' tj^ g.:'adoiir J^a^t>--ii«^^^■Ni*v* ?.*«!#*??:!■>. S$J|iyi«* - ^trvsv-rV 1r:v>:f-^' *Nirjph!*s- Cii!iing.'d hi'P' piitewt <'♦' t4»^"*i r}"'f •'.fti***; ?*■#» j«VJii*:\ Kh cldldrojw -Cliaritphk' thunilf.a.'w* »>■ ^zV'Sif^'- ■ *^4t of Affligliaiu — Ad<;iieia K'tir^ii iA i%^^%:j(t*^ *?5?ife»r'iry i^- iT^^'S*** TMt* tiiere— Kowml of hcv dpfith — Bari4^} ^i* («»«*> V '^^^V .J»^^tia «i»cefttor of two of ciir q'l'XMis. This priiici***, «•• 'sf?>'m» <:*'T.itf her; lunl tjie Mir\i\'ii)p: bistoneni records of her liiv, though brief, utr ;ul of ji nature tcndiiiir to coiifijni th«; ^)od report which thj. vcj-sea of the ProveiiyaJw have pre- s>ervctl of Iter viitut'^ and a<'o.rnphhhnunts. l)eK( nd^.'d, lliroiijrii both her inireuts, from the in\j)Oi'ial Carlovinirian line.' Adchcia boa>;t(?d the nujist illustrious blt)od Howjinl '.f.morhdK, NT; 1)\ IKnrv 1.-- iig aud (jxieeiv op — Ho oroNvns ait ijt'litv,ratin(; it in Adelicia'> r Nt<'p dfiughtcr rfviw- MutiUla rpii»ct Hciuy — i4»-- t.r I* 'Hdoiir l',-v ti>v, -J — Ct.ii,Hig.'«l ht«p- rn-» Cliaritflik' ;htiin — Adi'licia •d of ht'v i\t\ah r q'l'X'us. hHV«7 gnvpn of the nic'st rlisli qnrous vi;r, .spoken l! vteonis of lo confiJiM k have [ire- he ini|)criat ti'iuijs bleod -' / / ' rT'-'/y/y/^ry.v- ■■' '■' ■ : > ,y/^u^2/a^///y Loiulo; , Ilev.rv Cclbuni, 1851, ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 167 in Christendom. She was the eldest daughter of Godfrey of Louvaine^ duke of Brabant and Lotheir (or Lower Lorraine), and Ida countess of Namur.' Her father, as the great- grandson of Charles, brother to Lothaire of France, was the lawful representative of Charlenuigne. llie male posterity of the unfortunate Charles having been cut off by Hugh Capet, the rights of his house became vested in the descendants of his eldest daughter, Gerberga.^ Lambert, the son of Gerberga, by her injaniage with Robert of Louvaine, was the father of (j:'j'}irey. Ermengarde, the second daughter of Charles, raarriett aUbert, the third count of Namur: and their sole slaughter and heiress, Ida (the mother of Adehcia) became the wife of her cousin, Gbdfrey of Louvaine, sumamed Bar- batus, or ' the bearded,' because he had made a vow never to shave his beard tiU he had recovered Lower Lorraine, the patrimony of his ancestors. In this he succeeded in the y ar 1107, after which he triumphantly displayed a smooth chin, in token that he had fulfilled his obhgation. He finally obtained from his subjects and contemporaries the more honoiurable appellation of Godfrey the Great.' The dominions of this prince were somewhat more extensive than the modem kingdom of Belgium, and were governed by him with the greatest wisdom and ability. From this iUustrious lineage Adelicia inherited the distin- guished beauty and fine talents for which the Lorraine branch of the house of Charlemagne has ever been celebrated. She was also remarkable for her proficiency in feminine acquire- ments. A standard which she embroidered in silk and gold for her father, during the arduous contest in which he was enj^aged for the recovery of his patrimony, was celebrated throughout Europe for the exquisite taste and skill displayed by the royal Adelicia in the design and execution of her patriotic achievement.* This standard was unfortunately captured at a battle near the castle of Duras, in the year 1129, by the bishop of Liege and the earl of Limbourg, the * Betham's Genealogical Tables. Buknet, or Bukein's, Trophies du Brabant. Howard's Memorials of the Howard Fajr.ily. ^ Buknct's Tropliies. Howard Memorials. 3 1V.SA * Ibid. 168 ADELICIA OF LOXJVAINE. 1 f old competitor of Godfrey for Lower Lorraine : it was placedf by them, as a memorial of their trimnph, in the great churcl of St. Lambert, at Liege, and was for centuries carried ir procession on Eogation-days through the streets of that city The church of St. Lambert was destroyed during the French revolution ; yet the learned editor of the Howard Memorials fondly indulges in the hope that this interesting relic of his royal ancestresses industry and patriotic feelings may yet exist, destined, perhaps, hereafter to be brought to Ught, hke the long-forgotten Bayeux tapestry. The plain, where this memorable trophy was taken, is still called ' the field of the Standard." The fame of the fair maid of Brabant's charms and accom- plishments, it is said, induced the confidential advisers of Henry I. of England to recommend their sorrow-stricken lord to wed her, in hopes of dissipating that corroding melancholy which, since the loss of his children in the fatal ' white ship,' had become constitutional to him. The temper of this monarch had, in fact, grown so irascible, that his greatest nobles feared to enter his presence, and it is said that, in his causeless transports of rage, he indulged himself in the use of the most unkingly terms of vituperation to all who approached him ;' which made his peers the more earnest in their counsels for him to take a second wife. AdeHcia of Louvaine was the object of his choice. Henry's ostensible motive in contracting this marriage was the hope of male posterity, to inherit the united realms of England and Normandy.^ He had been u widower two years when he entered into a treaty with Godfrey of Louvaine for the hand of his beautiful daughter. Robert of Gloucester, when recording the fact in his rhyming Chronicle, says, " He knew no woman so ftur u she > Waa seen on middle eartli." Tlie name of this rincess has been variously written by ' linitsholmc. • Speed. Rapin. ' " Tt wBfl tl>o death of tliis yontli," says William of Malmcsbury, npeakin^ of tlie death of the Athcling, " which in^'uced king Henry to renounce the aMiltury ho had cheriahed since Matilda's death, in the hope of iuture heirs by n new consort." '\ f- ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 169 '^as placedf lat churcl lurried ii; that city le French VIemorials ;hc of his may yet to hght, iin, where e field of id accom- dvisers of icken lord lelancholy hite ship/ B monarch )le8 feared causeless ■ the most led him;' )unsels for e was the ontracting nherit the ad been a ;h Godfrey Robert rhyming mtten by iry, upeidcinpf ronounco tlio re hoirs by n the chroniclers of England, Normandy, Germany, and Brabant, as Adehza, Ahcia, Adelaide, Aleyda or Adelheite, which means * most noble/ In the Saxon Chronicle she is called iEthelice, or AUce. Mr. Howard of Corby-castle, the immediate descendant of this queen, in his Memorials of the Howard Family,' calls her Adelicia, for the best of reasons, — her name is so written in an original charter of the Slst of Henry I., confirming her grant of lands for the foundation of an hospital of lepers at Fugglestone, near Wilton, dedicated to St. Giles; which deed, with part of the seal-appendant, is still preserved in the corporation chest at Wilton. The Proven9al and Walloon poets, of whom this queen was a munificent patroness, style her Alix la Belle, Adelais, and Alise, varying the syllables according to the structure of the verses which they composed in her honour, — a licence always allowed to poetical writers; therefore the rhymes of the trou- badours ought not to be regarded as the shghtest authority in settling the point. Modern historians generally speak of this princess by her Latinized name of Adeliza, but her learned descendant's version of her name is that which ought to be adopted by her biographer. There is no authentic record of the date of AdeliciaV birth. Mr. Howard supposes she was about eighteen years old at the period of her marriage with Henry I., and it is certain that she was in the bloom of her beauty at the time he sought her hand. In proportion to the estimation in which the charms of Adelicia were held did Henry fix her dower, which was so munificent, that the duke of Louvaine, her father, scrupled not to consign her to her affianced lord, as soon as the con- tract of marriage was signed. This ceremony took place on the 16th of April, 1120, but the nuptials were not celebrated till some months after this period. King Henry, in person, conducted his betrothed bride to England in the autunui of this year." They landed about Michaelmas. Some histo- ' Through tlie courtesy of his graoo the late duke of Norfolk, I have been fiivoure4'>w.>.>««M 4^ iiKf, IS llinucvSHIUlu Ui lliu jmiiiiic, wiit m numb iiii)nM mni' an n inj\>n o iviviviivw vu tlie writers of royal and noltlo bio^rnp)ii«'H. * Henry of lluntiiiydoii. Wh.te Keiinct. li !i i l|i in 170 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. rians affirm that the royal pair were married at Ely, soon after their arrival ; but if so, it must have been a private arrange- ment, for the nuptials were pubHcly solemnized at Windsor on the 24th of January, 1121 ;^ having been delayed in conse- quence of a singular dispute between the archbishop of Can- terbury and the bishop of Sahsbury, which established a point too important to be omitted in a history embracing, in a peculiar manner, the habits and customs of royalty. Roger le Poer, the bishop of Salisburj^ that notable preacher of short sermons, claimed the right to marry the royal pair because the fortress of Windsor was within his diocese. This right was disputed by the aged Ralph, archbishop of Canterbury, who was a great stickler for the prerogatives of his office ; and an ecclesiastical council was called, in which it was decided, that wherever the king and queen might be within the realm of England, they were the parishioners of the archbishop of Canterbury. Accordingly, the ceremony was triumphantly performed by the venerable primate, though bowed down by so many infirmities, that he appeared like one tottering on the verge of the grave. This afforded Henry an excuse for deputing the honour of crowning him and his bride on the following day, at West- minster, to his favourite prelate Roger le Poer, the bishop of Sahsbury above named, to console him for his disappoint- ment with regard to the hymeneal office. But the archbisliop was not to be thus put off. The right of crowning the king and queen he considered a still more important branch of his archiepiscopal prerogatives than that of marrying them, and, malgr6 his age and paralysis, he hastened to the abbey, where the ceremonial had commenced at an unusually early liour. Roger le Poer, his rival, having, according to his old custom, made unprecedented expedition in the perfonnance of his office, had already placed the royal diadem on the monarch's brow, when archbishop Ralph sternly approached the royal chair, and asked Hemy, " Who had put the crown on hia head ?"' The king evasively replied, " If the ceremony had not been properly performed, it could be done again." On «^rii \«/^1/ va«x vjuAVJ.V'i o noovA \t% Trxry £%\\r\\t\- .A.\ «\Wi%-vi •» fi. \tii\j \^ti\ji\i i\j uiu Iriiuiiibu * liudmor. • Etulmor. Six-'cd. soon after ;e arrange- /V^indsor on in conse- )p of Can- led a point 1 a peculiar ;r le Poer, rt sermons, ;he fortress Eis disputed yas a great 3clesiastical [lerever the ^land, they !!anterbury. ned by the infirmities, ' the grave. I honour of , at West- the bishop disappoint- archbisliop g the king inch of his tliem, and, bey, where sarly liour. )ld custom, ace of his monarcli's the royal wn on his [oniony hnd nin." On ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 171 M gave the king such a smart blow with his crosier, that he smote the crown from his head;* but Eadmer says, he only raised it up by the strap which passed imder the chin, and so turned it off his head. He then proceeded to replace it with all due form, and afterwards crowned the fair young queen. This most extraordinary coronation took place on Sunday, January 30th, 1121. The beauty of the royal bride, whom Piers of Langtoft calls " The May withoiiten vice," made a great impression on the minds of the people, which the sweetness of her manners, her prudence, and mild virtues, strengthened in no shght degree. It was on the occasion of her bridal coronation that Henry of Himtingdon, the chro- nicler, addressed to Adehcia those celebrated Latin verses, of which Camden has given us the following translation :' " When Adeliza's name Bhould grace my song, A sudden wonder stops the Muse's tongue ; Your crown and jewels, when compared to you, How poor your crown, how pale yoiu* jewels show ! Take off your robes, your rich attire remove. Such pomps may load you, but can ne'er improve ; In vain your costly ornaments are worn, You they obscure, while others they adorn. Ah ! what new lustres can these trifles give. Which all their beauty from your charms receive P Thus I your lofty praise, your vast renown. In lowly vers*' lun not ashamed to have shown, Oh, be you not ashamed my services to own 1" The Didsdom of this lovely girl-queen early manifested itself in the graceful manner by which she endeavoured to conform herself to the tastes of her roynl lord, in the encouragement of the polished arts, and the patronage of literature. Henry's Jove for animals had induced him to create an extensive > Spood. • " Anglorum rcgina, tuos Adelidn, docorcs. Ipsa rut'erro parans Miisa stupor riget. (iuid diadema tibi pulohi'rrima P quid tibi gcninin) P rullet geunna tibi, nt!C diadema nitet. IX'me tibi cultus, cultum nntura miuistrat Non oxornari forma Kuita ytoirnt Ornamonta onvo, ntv quicquaiii Inmlnis Jndo Accipis : ilia micaiit lumine clara tuo, Non puduit nxMlicHs dt* iiiHgniH dicerc luii(li^'l9^pplwii^i for the pre- servation of the internal peace glt^^gland, while )H5to.,or state poUcy detained the king in T'^inriandy. Adelicia, %lk)wing the example of her popular pi^decessor Matilda,. " the good queen," in all that was deserving cC<^ imitation, conducted herself in a manner calculated to win the esteem and love of the nation, — ^using her queenly influence for the establishment of good order, reUgion, and refinement, and the encouragement of learning and the arts. When Henry had defeated his enemies at the battle of Terroude, near Rouen, he sent for his young queen to come to him. Adehcia obeyed the summons, and sailed for Nor- mandy. She arrived in the midst of scenes of horror, for Henry took a merciless vengeance on the revolted vassals of Normandy who were so imfortunate as to fall into his hands. His treatment of the luckless troubadour knight, Luke de Barre,'' though the circumstances are almost too dreadfid for repetition, bears too strongly on the manners and customs of the twelfth century to be omitted. Luke de Barre had, according to the testimony of Ordericus Vitalis, been on terms ' Cliron. Wttlli. « Siflinondi. 174 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. I li of the greatest familiarity with Henry Beauclerc in the days of their youth, but, from some cause, had joined the revolt of the eaii of Mellent in the late insurrection j and the said earl, and all the confederate peers allied against Henry's government in Normandy, had been wonderfully comforted and encouraged by the sirventes, or war-songs, of Luke. These songs were provokingly satirical ; and. " eing personally levelled against Henry, contained, we shomd suppose, some passages which involved a betrayal of confidence, for Henry was so bitterly incensed, that, forgetftd of their former inti- macy, he barbarously condemned the luckless poet to lose his eyes on a scaffold, by the hands of the pubhc executioner. This sentence was greatly lamented by the comi;, for Luke de Barre was not only a pleasant and jocose companion, but a gentleman of courage and honour. The earl of Flanders interceded with his royal kinsman for the wretched victim.* "No, sir, no," repHed Henry; "for this man, being a wit, a bard, and a minstrel, forsooth ! hath composed many ribald songs against me, and sung them to raise the horse-laughs of mine enemies. Now it hath pleased God to dehver him into mine hands, punished he shall be, to deter others from the hke petulance." The sentence there- fore took place, and the hapless poet died of the wounds he received in strugghng with the executioner. The Proven9al annalists, however, declare that the gallant troubadour avoided the execution of Henry's sentence by dasliing his head against the wall, which caused his death.'' So much for the punish- ment of hbels in the twelfth century ! Queen AdeUcia returned to England September 1126, accom- panied by king Henry and his daughter, the empress Matilda, the heiress-presumptive of England, then a widow in her twenty- fourth year. Matilda, after the funeral of her august spouse, took possession of his imperial diadem, which she brought to Eng- land, together with a treasure which, in those days, was by some considered of even greater importance, — the hand of St. James. Matilda was reluctant to leave Germany, where she was splendidly dowered, and enjoyed a remarkable share of ' Ordericiu Vitalis. ' Ibid. Sismondi. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 175 the days revolt of the said Henry's comforted of Luke. )ersonally jse, some )r Henry mer inti- o lose his Bcutioner. ' Luke de 3n, but a isman for iry; "for )th ! hath 5 them to f;h pleased lall be, to ice there- ounds he Proven9al ir avoided id against punish- 6, accom- i Matilda, ;r twenty- ouse, took t to Eng- }, was by md of St. where she share of popularity. The princes of the empire were so much charmed at her prudent conduct and stately demeanour, that they entreated the king, her father, to permit her to choose a second con- sort from among their august body, promising to elect for their emperor the person on whom her choice might fall.' King Henry, however, despairing of a male heir, as he had been married to AdeHcia six years, reclaimed his widowed daughter from the admiring subjects of her late consort, and carried her with him to England. Soon after their arrival, Henry summoned a parUament for the purpose of causing the empress Matilda to be acknowledged as the heiress-pre- sumptive to the crown. This was the first instance that had occurred, since the consohdation of the Heptarchy imder one supreme head, of a female standing in that important position with regard to the succession of the EngUsh crown. There was, however, neither law nor precept to forbid a female from holding the regal office, and Henry failed not to set forth to the representatives of the great body of the people, who had been summoned on this important business, his daughter's descent from their ancient line of sovereigns ; teUing them, " That through her, who was now his only heir, they should come to be governed again by the royal Enghsh blood, if they would make oath to secure to her, after his death, the succes- sion as queen of England, in case of his decease without a male heir."" It is, doubtless, on the authority of this remark- able passage in Henry's speech, that historians have called his first wife, Matilda of Scotland, the heiress of the Saxon hne. The people of England joyfully acceded to Henry's pro- position, and the nobles and prelates of the Norman aris- tocracy, assembled in council on this occasion, swore fealty to the high and mighty lady Matilda as their future sovereign. Stephen, earl of Mortagne, the king's favourite nephew, (being the third son of the Conqueror's fourth daughter, Adela countess of Blois,) was the first who bent his knee in homage to the daughter of his liege lord as the heiress of England, and swore to maintain her righteous title to the tlirone of her royal father, • ficm. W. Malmosbury. Sir .John Haywnrd. SpeotL " lionry of lluiitingdua. W. Malmcsbury. Uom. 176 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. ■• Stephen was the handsomest man in Europe^ and remarkable for his fine carriage and knightly prowess. He bore great sway in the comicils of his royal imcle, and was a general favourite of the nobles of England and Normandy. It has been said, withal, that his fine person and graceful manners made a deep impression on the heart of the widowed heiress of England. The royal family kept their Christmas this year at Windsor,^ at which time king Henry, in token of his esteem for queen Adehcia, gave her the whole county of Salop. The empress Matilda did not grace the festivities by her presence, but remained in the deepest seclusion, " abiding continually," says Matthew Paris, " m the chamber of Adelicia ;" by which it appears that, notwithstanding her high rank and matronly dig- nity as the widow of an emperor, the heiress of England had no estabhshment of her own. This retirement, lasting for several months, gave rise to mysterious rumours as to the cause of her being hidden from the people, who had so recently been required to swear fealty to her as their future sovereign. By some it was said "that the king, her father, suspected her of having accelerated the death of her late husband, the emperor, or of causing him to be spirited away from his palace."' But that was evidently a groimdless simnise; for W. Gemeticiensis, a contemporary chronicler, bears testimony to " her prudent and gracious behaviour to her imperial spouse, which," he observes, " was one of the causes which won the esteem of the German princes, who were lu-gent in their entreaties to her royal father for her restoration." This Henry pertinaciously refused, repeating, " that she was his only heir, ^ Saxon Annals. ' Ever since the miserable death of his unhappy fiather, Henry IV., the emperor Henry V. had been subject to great mental disquiet, from the remorse which perpetually deprived him of rest. " One night he rose up from the ade of the empress, and taking his staff In hand, with naked feet he wandered forth into the darkness, clad only in a woollen garment, and was never again seen in his own palace." This wild tale is related by Hoveden, Giraldus, and Higden, and various ancient manuscript chronicles, to say nothing of Trevisa, who adds, by way of sequel to the legend, that " the conscience-stricken emperor fled to England, where at Westchester he became a hermit, changing his name to ' God's-call,' or the called of God. He Uved in daily penance for the space of ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 177 emarkable )ore great a general . It has [ manners ed heiress Windsor/ for queen e empress jence, but ally/' says f which it tronly dig- gland had lasting for ) the cause ently been eign. By sected her iband^ the from his rmise; for testimony ial spouse, 1 won the t in their his Henry only heir. , the emperor emorse which 18 ade of the •cd forth into ill seen in his Higden, and wlio adds, by [KTor fled to his name to the spare of i\... it: ;„ M and must dwell among her own people." Yet, early in the following year, he again bestowed her in marriage, without th consent of his subjects in England, and decidedly against hei own inclination, on a foreign prince, whom she regarded with the most ineflfable scorn as her inferior in every point of view. We have seen that, in her tender infancy, Matilda was used as a pohtical puppet by her parent to advance his own interest, without the shghtest consideration for her happiness. TTien the victim was led a smiling sacrifice to the altar, un- conscious of the joyless destiny to which parental ambition had doomed her. Now the case was different; it was no meek infant, but a royal matron, who had shared the imperial throne of a Kaiser, and received for years the homage of vassal princes. Moreover, she whom Henry endeavoured to compel to an abhorrent marriage of state, possessed a mind as in- flexible as his own. The disputes between the king and his daughter must have arisen to a very serious height before he took the impopular step of subjecting her to personal restraint, by confining her to the apartments of his queen. Matthew Paris, indeed, labours to convince us that there was nothing unreasonable in this circumstance. " Where," says he, " should an empress hve rather than with a queen, a daughter than with a mother, a fair lady, a widow and the heir of a great nation, than where her person might be safest from danger, and her conduct from suspicion?" The historian, however, forgets that Matilda was the step-daughter of the queen j that Adelicia was not older than herself, and, from the acknowledged gentleness of her disposition, unhkely to assume the shghtest maternal control over the haughty heiress of England. AdeHcia must have felt herself very delicately situated in this business; and it appears probable that she acted as a mediator between the contending parties, conducting herself rather as a loving sister than an ambitious step-dame. The accomplished editor of the Howard Memorials infers that a very tender friendship existed between the empress Matilda and Adelicia through life, which probably had commenced before ' the fair maid of Brabant' was selected from among the princesses of Europe to share the crown of England with I ft* ' I' I! i I' I VOL. I, N J 1 r 178 ADELICIA OP LOUVAINE. IP '■ Henry I. ; for Matilda's imperial spouse, the emperor Hemy V., had been actively instrumental in assisting Godfrey Barbatus, the father of Adehcia, in the recovery of Lower Lorraine, — an obligation which the Louvaine princess certainly endeavoured to repay to his widow.* Adehcia's uncle, Wido of Louvaine, afterwards pope Calixtus IL, was at one period archbishop of Vienne, and it is even possible that Henry's attention was first attracted to the fair maid of Brabant at the court of his daughter ; and the previous intimacy between the ladies may account for the fact that the haughty Matilda Uved on such good terms with her step-mother, for AdeUcia appears to have been the only person with whom she did not quarrel. The prince to whom Henry I. had pledged the hand of his perverse heiress, was Geoffrey Plantagenet, the eldest son of his old antagonist, Fulk earl of Anjou, and brother to tiia widowed princess who had been espoused to Matilda's brother, WiUiam the Atheling. Geofirey had been the favourite com- panion of king Henry I. when on the continent. His fine person, his elegant manners, great bravery, and, above aU, his learning, made his society very agreeable to a monarch who still possessed these excellences ia great perfvi 'ion.* Some of the French chroniclers declare this Geoffrey to be the first person that bore the name of Plantagenet, from putting in his helmet a plume of the flowering broom when he went to hunt in the woods. Motives of poKcy inclined Henry to this aUiance. Fulk of Anjou, who had hitherto supported the claims of his gallant young son-ia-law, WiUiam Clito, to the dukedom, was wiUing to abandon his cause, provided Henry would marry Matilda to his heir. This Henry had engaged to do, without the sHghtest attention to his daughter's feeUngs. His favourite nephew, Stephen of Blois, is said to have rendered himself only too dear to the imperial widow, although at that time a married man. The ceremony of betrothment between Geoffrey of Anjou and the reluctant Matilda took place oi;\ Whit-Sunday, 1127, and she was, after the festivities of Whitsuntide were ' Howard Memorials. Chronicles of Brabant. ' 1126 to 1127. Cbron. de Normand. and Script. Ber. France. [enry V., 3arbatus, line, — an eavoured jouvaine, bishop of ition was irt of his dies may [ on such s to have • nd of his it son of 5r to th3 3 brother^ lite com- His fine ire all, his arch who Some the first ng in his went to e. Fidk is gallant as willing T Matilda ;hout the favourite I himself at time a L Geofirey ;-Sunday, tide were nee. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 1'9 over, conducted into Normandy by her half-brother, Robert earl of Gloucester, and Brian, son of Alan Fei^eant, earl of Richmond, with great pomp. The feasts and pageants that attended her arrival in Nor- mandy were prolonged during three weeks. On the first day, heralds in grand costume went through the streets and squares of Rouen, shouting at every crossway this singular proclamation : "Thus saith King Henry! "Let no man here present, whether native or foreigner, rich or poor, high or low, warrior or rustic, be so bold as to stay away from the royal rejoicings ; for whosoever shall not take a part in the games and diversions, shall be considered guilty of an offence to our lord the king."' King Henry had given positive commands to Matilda and her illustrious escort, that the nuptials should be solemnized by the archbishop of Rouen immediately on her arrival f but he was himself compelled to undertake a voyage to Normandy, in August, to see the marriage concluded, which did not take place tiU the 26th of that month;' from which we may reasonably infer that the reluctant bride paid very httle atten- tion to his directions. The affair was at length, however, accompUshed to Henry's satisfaction, more especially as Fulk of Anjou, being called to the throne of Jerusalem by the death of Baldwin II., his father-in-law, resigned his patrimonial territories to his heir. Yet there were many circumstances that rendered this alliance a fruitful source of annoyance to Henry. The Anglo-Norman barons and prelates were highly offended in the first place, that the king should have presumed to marry the heiress of the realm without consulting them on the subject ; and the English were no less displeased at the open violence that had been put on the inclinations of the descendant of their ancient sovereigns in this foreign marriage. As for Matilda, it should seem that she did not consider her- self by any means bound to practise the duty of obedience, or even of common courtesy, to a husband who had thus been * BroinT>ton- * Saxon Annals. Malmesburv. S. Dunelm. Malmesbury. n2 Scrint: R*?! Frances Huntingdou ^ Saxon Annala. % 't 180 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. i .ii 'Mi, forced upon her against her own will ; and while she exacted the most unqualified submissions from her luckless help- mate, she perpetually wearied her father with complaints of his conduct. Queen Adelicia was rejoined by king Henry, in the autumn, and they kept their Christmas together in London. Early in the following spring, 1128, he was again compelled to embark for Normandy, to defeat the enterprising designs of his nephew, William Clito, who, having succeeded to the earldom of Flanders, in right of his grandmother Matilda, the wife of Wilham the Conqueror, was enabled to assume a more formidable attitude than he had yet done. But this gallant and unfortunate prince met with his death in consequence of a shght wound in the thumb, which he took in disarming a mutinous soldier of his lance. He died six days after,* in the monastery of St. Bertin, July 27, 1128. This formidable rival being now removed, Henry appeared at the summit of his ambition, and was considered the mightiest monarch of the West. He was the husband, withal, of one of the most beautiful and amiable princesses in Europe. Whether the fair Adelicia loved her royal spouse, history has not recorded; but her conduct as a wife, a queen, and even as a step-mother, was irreproachable. When all circum- stances are considered, it can scarcely be imagined, however, that her splendid marriage was productive of happiness to the youthful wife of Henry I. To say nothing of the disparity in years between this illustrious pair, the morbid sorrow of which Henry was the perpetual prey after the loss of his children in the ' white ship,' the irascibility of temper to which he gave way in his old age, and his bitter disappointment at the want of ofispring from his second marriage, must have been most distressing to the feelings of his gentle consort. Then the stormy disputes between Henry and his only daughter Matilda could not have been otherwise than very painful to her. Whatever, however, were the trials with which Adelicia had to * His captive father, Robert Courthose, it is said, one morning surpr.sed his attendants by weeping piteously, and exclaiming, " My son is dead ! my son is dead !" and related, " that he had in his dreams, that nieht, "pen him mortally wounded with a lance." — Ordericus Vitalis. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 181 ! exacted iss help- >lamts of autumn, Early in ) embark i nephew, Flanders, Uiam the J attitude fortunate wound in soldier of jry of St. jing now ition, and He was i amiable 3, history leen, and il circum- however, ess to the sparity in ' of which lildren in h he gave the want jeen most Then the !r Matilda to her. cia had to surprised his I ! my son is bim mortally contend, she evidently supported them with silent magnanimity, and at the same time endeavoured to soothe and cheer the gloom of her wayward lord by attracting to the court the most distinguished poets and minstrels of the age, who repaid her liberal patronage by celebrating her virtues and her charms. AdeUcia frequently attended her royal husband on his pro- gresses. Her presence was, doubtless, of medicinal influence in those fearful hours when the pangs of troubled conscience brought the visitations of an evil spirit upon Henry, and sleep either forsook his pillow or brought visionary horrors in its train. " In the year 1130, the king complained to Grimbald, his Saxon physician, that he was sore disquieted of nights, and that he seemed to see a great number of husbandmen with their rustical tools stand about him, threatening him for wrongs done against them. Sometimes he appeared to see his knights and soldiers threatening him ; which sight so feared him in his sleep, that ofttimes he rose undrest out of his bed, took weapon in hand, and sought to kill them he could not find. Grimbald, his physician, being a notably wise man, expounded his dreams by true conjecture, and willed him to reform him- self by alms and prayer, as Nebuchadnezzar did by the counsel of Daniel.'" It is probable that the unfortunate troubadour knight, Luke de Barre, was not forgotten by the conscience- stricken monarch, though historians have not recorded that his mangled form was among the ghastly dramatis persona that, in his latter years, made king Henry's nights horrible. Malmesbury tells us, moreover, that Henry had an inveterate habit of snoring : " his sleep was heavy, but interrupted with loud and perpetual snoring." Sergei adds, that he was so haunted with the fear of assassination, that he frequently changed his bed, increased his guards, and caused a sword and shield to be constantly placed near him at night, — no enviable state of companionship, we should imagine, for the young and innocent being whose fate was indissolubly linked with his. It must have been a relief at all times to Adelicia when her royal husband's presence was required in Normandy. On the death of AdeHcia's uncle, pope Calixtus II., a dispute ' Stowe. H. Huntingdon. i u 182 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. M occurring in the election of two rival pontiffs as successors to the papal chair, Henry proceeded to the continent in the year 1130, in the hope of reaping some political advantage from the candidate whose cause he espoused. His arrangements were perfectly satisfactory as to that matter, but he was to the last degree harassed by the quarrels between his daughter and her unbeloved spouse, Geoffrey of Anjou. After he had thrice adjusted their differences, Matilda, on some fresh offence which she either gave or took, abjured her husband^s company, departed from his court, and claimed the protection of the king her father, with whom she once more returned to England,* having, by the eloquence of tears and complaints, succeeded in exciting his indignation against her husband, and persuadLig him that she was an injured person. The oath of fealty to Matilda, as the heiress of England, was again renewed by the general estates of the nation at Northampton, September, 1131.' The comit of Anjou then sent an humble entreaty to his haughty consort to return to him ; the king and parhament seconded his request, and all due submissions having been made by Geoffrey, Matilda was at length induced to obey him.' The following year was remarkable for a destructive fire, which consumed the greatest part of London ;* but soon after this national calamity, the joyful news that the empress Matilda had given birth to a prince* diverted the attention of the royal family from the contemplation of this misfortune, and cast the last gleam of brightness on the declining years of the king. The young prince was named Henry, after his royal grandfather, the king of England. The Normans called him Fitz-Empress, but king Henry proudly styled the boy * Roger Hovetlen. H. Huntingdon. ' Malnu'shury. H. Huntingrvant in an hospital, which siwere iK'uancNf )io htul Hwom to inHict on hiiuHi'lf for liiH lieavy xinti. Wlien dying at AngcrH, the dixgi ' vd emperor diBcovereil hiniwlf to tluH monk, his confessor, who eauK* to Matilda with the news. In c^mclusion, it is said the enipresH attendetl the detith-lH'd of Henry V., and reeognieed and acknowledged him aa the eni|H.'ror, her lirst liusbHiid. * H. Huntingdon. * K. Diceto. M. Pttriu. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 183 lessors to the year age from igements e was to daughter r he had h offence 3ompany, n of the England,* needed in jrsuadiiig fealty to jd by the iptember, itreaty to arhament een made him.^ ctive fire, loon after empress ention of isfortune, 5 years of after hie ms called the boy [iuntingdon. it took placo tials of tliiH Iw tlllJHTOr but that ho 10 hiul Hwoni lio dinf^t ' vd to Matilda 10 di'iith-lH'd or, liur tirHt Fitz-Conqueror, in token of his illustrious descent from the mightiest monarch of the line.' King Henry summoned his last parliament in 1133, for the purpose of causing this precious child to be included in the oath of fealty, by which the succession to the throne was for the third time secured to his daughter, the empress Matilda. If queen AdeUcia had brought him a son, after these repeated acts in favour of his daughter (by a princess whom the majority of the people regarded as the heiress of the royal English line), a civil war respecting the succession must have occurred. The childless state of the beautiful young queen, though so deeply lamented by her royal husband, was one of the causes of the amity and confidence that subsisted between her and her haughty step-daughter. Towards the latter end of this summer, king Henry em- barked on his last voyage for Normandy. The day was remarkable for a total echpse of the sun, accompanied with storms and violent commotions of the deep.' It was so dark, say the annaUsts of that era, " that on board the royal sliip no man might see another's face for some hours." The eclipse was followed by an earthquake ; and these two phe- nomena were, according to the spirit of the age, regarded as portents of horror and woe, and it was predicted that the king would never return from Normandy.^ On a former occasion, when Henry had embarked for England, in June 1131, he was so dismayed by the bursting of a water-spout over the vessel, and the fury of the wind and waves, that, beheving his last hour was at hand, he made a penitent acknowledgment of his sins, promising to lead a new life if it should please God to preserve him from the peril of death, and, above all, he vowed to repeal the oppressive impost of ' danegclt ' for seven years, if he were permitted to reach the EngUsh shore in safety.* From this incident we may infer that Henry I. was by no means impressed with his brother Rufus's bold idea, of the security of a king of England from a watery grave ; but ' Saxon Aunal*. ' M. Westminster. ' W, Malmosbury. * Suxou AnnulH. Id. 184 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. the catastrophe of his children in the fatal * wliite ship/ had no doubt some effect on his mind during these perils on the deep. The summer of 1133 he spent in Normandy, in feasts and rejoicings for the birth of his infant grandson. That event was, however, only the precursor of fresh dissensions between that ill-assorted pair, the empress Matilda and her husband Geofl&>ey Plantagenet. Her late visit to England had renev^ed the scandalous reports respecting her partiality for her cousin, Stephen of Blois ; while the birth of a son in the sixth year of her marriage, proved any thing but a bond of union between her and her consort.* There is no reason to suppose that Adehcia was with the king her husband at the time of his death, which took place in Normandy, in the year 1135, at the castle of Lyons, near Rouen, a place in which he much dehghted. It is said, that having over-fatigued himself in hunting in the forest of Lyons, he returned much lieated, and, contrary to the advice of his courtiers and physicians, made too full a meal on a dish of stewed lampreys, his favourite food, which brought on a violent fit of indigestion, (called by the chroniclers a surfeit,) ending jn a fever, of which he died, after an iUness of seven days, at midnight, December Ist, in the sixty-seventh year of his age. He appears to have been perfectly conscious of his approach- ing dissolution, for he gave particular directions respecting his obsequies to liis natural son, Robert earl of Gloucester, whom he charged to take 60,000 marks out of his treasure-chest at Falaise, for the expenses of his funeral and the payment of his mercenary troops.' He solemnly bequeathed his dominions to his daughter the empress, not without some indignant mention of her luckh-^s spouse, Geoffrey of Anjou, his former el^ve and bel ami. lie absolutely excluded him from any share in his bequests, and with much earnestness constituted his belo\ ed son, earl Robert, the protector of his daughter's rights. Robert of Gloucester gives the following serio-coniio accomit of the roy»d wilfulness, in pjirtaking of the interdicted food which caused his death : — i I Saxon Clironicle. • Ortlcriciw Vitwlu. W. Molniosbury, ADELICIA ( ' LOUVAINE. 185 / had no he deep. ;asts and at event between husband renewed r cousin, ti year of between with the >ok place ms, near iaid, that f Lyons, ce of his dish of a violent ,) ending days, at his age. pproach- cting his T, whom ■chest at TTient of ominions ndignant 18 former rom any tuted his 8 rights. ? accomit ted food 'Hbury, *' Wlien he came home, he willed him a lamprey to cat, Though Ills leeches him forbade, for it was a feeble meat ; But he would not them believe, for he loved it well euow. And ate in evil case, for the lamprey it him slew j Tor right soon after it into anguish him drew. And he died for his lamprey, unto his own woe." ITie noble earls who surrounded the death-bed of king Henry, and Ustened to his last instructions respecting his ftmeral, attended his remains from the town of St. Denis le Forment (where he breathed his last) to Rouen; and when they entered that city, they reverently bore the bier, on \v liich the royal corpse was laid, on their shoulders by tiuTis.' Two illuminated poitraits of Henry I. are in existence : both represent him as advanced in hfe, and in a melancholy attitude, — supposed to be after the loss of his children. His face is handsome, with high and regular features, his hair curling, but not long. His figure is emaciated in one ; he is clad in a very close dress, with his regal mantle folded about liim ; his shoe and stocking all of a piece, and the toe pointed : his crown is ornamented with three trefoils ; his sceptre is a staff with an ornamented head : he is seated on a stone bench, carved in an arcliitectural design. He is represented in the other in the robes he wore at the bridal coronation of Adelicia." Henry received from his subjects the title of ' the Lion of Justice.' This appellation was drawn from the prophecies of MerUn, then very popular in England. On the accession of every sovereign to the Enghsh tlirone, all his subjects con- sulted these rigmaroles, as naturally as we consult an almanac to know when there is a new moon. " After two dragons," says Merlin, " the lion of Justice shall come, at whose roaring the GaUic towers and island serpents shall tremble.' )} ' Henry of Huntingdon. • nicsfl portraits exactly iigrw witli the (Uwcriptions of the costume from the monastic chronicles: — "They w^re close breeches and Bl Eadmer. ' MAluicabury. ' Ilonry of Iluntingclon. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 187 )reak the ies of his i: "The retinue, it, there ley could d broken sell it for r horses' ; ground, he king's Vhenever ; brother and kept itch, that king had The king ."" The er had of ;don, his elayed for becoming nd safely ated with which he )hew and I AdeUcia wharf at I lamp to the royal raine, and rs of her jre, being numerous ;{lon. train of abbots, priors, and priests, she proceeded in solemn pomp up the aisle, supported by the bishops of Salisbury and Worcester, and gave pubUc testimonial of her regard for the memory of her late consort, by placing with her own hand a rich paU on the altar, in token that she made an oblation to God and the monks of St. Mary, Reading, of her manor of Eastone,' in Hertfordshire (formerly given to her by her said lord king Henry,) in order to obtain their prayers for the benefit of his soul, her own soul, the souls of her father and mother, and also for the health of the reigning sovereign king Stephen, and queen Maud his wife. By a second charter, com- mencing " Ego Adalid regina," she also gave the manor of ' The original charter is still in excellent preservation, in the possession of Abel Smith, esquire, M. p. Having been favoured with a translation of this curious document, through the kindness of my learned friend, Rouge Croix, I subjoin it, in illustration of the customs of that era, and as affording evidence of the disputed fact, that Josceline of Louvaiue joined his royal sister in England : — "Queen Adelid's Chabteh. " Be it known to all the faithful of Holy Church of all England and Nor- mandy, that I, queen Adelidis, wife of the most noble king Henry, '•md daughter of Godefry duke of Lorraine, have granted and given for ever to Ghxl and the church of St. Mary of Beading, for the health and redemption of the soul of my lord the most noble king Henry, and of mine own ; and also for the health of my lord Stephen, by the grace of God king of the English, and of queen Maud his wife, and all the ofl'spring of the most noble king Henry, and of my father and mother and relations, as well Uving as dead, my manor of East^e, which my lord the most noble king Henry gave to me as his queen and wife, in Hertford- shire, with all its appurtenances, to be held as freely and quietly as ever I myself held it best in demesne by the gifb of my lord the most noble king Henry ; that is, with sac and soc, and toll and team, and infangthef with the church and the demesne land, with men free and villains, with wood and plain, with meadow and pasture, with waters and mills, with roads and ways, with all the customs and liberties with which my lord held it in demesne, and gave it to me. And this gift I have made on the first anniversary of my lord the most noble king Henry in the same church, by the oflering of a pall which I placed on the altar, in presence of the subscribed ; that is, of Roger bishop of Salisbury, Simon bishop of Worcester, Ingulf abbot of Abingdon, Walter abbot of Eynesham, Bernard ablwt of St. Micharl's-mount, Warine prior of Worcester, Nicholas prior of St. Martin's of Battle, Ralf prior of Osncy, Herman chaplain to the queen, master Serlo the queen's clerk, Adam and Robin Fitzwalter, canons of Waltham, Ralf, Theobald, and Roger, clerks of the bishop of Salisbury, Simon, nepluw of the bishop of Worcester, Gervase and Bertram, clerks of the bishop of Worcester, Josceline, brother to the same queen, Pevercl of Boauchamp, Milo of Boauchamp, Scephen of Heauchamp, Hugo of Cramonville, Maurice of Winilsor and his bro^'.or R<wager of ;d hitn to broth was kable that ixed their reason to legend so f the tale, owager of a cave in ecome the e knight's , which he ;om of his ;hought of r romance.^ sion of the e Hon, not le tradition Albini Hon bid. on the ancient armorial bearings of that house is tongueless, and is, by the by, one of the most good-tempered looking beasts ever seen. Romance and ideality out of the question, William de Albini was not only a knight sans pe>'- et sans reproche, stout in combat, and constant in loyalty and love, but history proves him to have been one of the greatest and best men of that age. His virtues and talents sufficiently justified the widow of the mighty sovereign of England and Normandy in bestowing her hand upon him; nor was Adeiicia's second marriage in the shghtest degree offensive to the subjects of her late husband, or considered derogatory to the dignity of a queen-dowager of England. Adehcia, by her union vidth Albini, conveyed to him a life-interest in her rich dowry of Arundel, and he accordingly assumed the title of earl of Anmdel, in her right, as the possessor of Aruudel-castle.* It was at this feudal fortress, on the then soUtary coast of Sussex, that the royal beauty, who had for fifteen years presided over the splendid court of Henry Beauclerc, voluntarily resided with her second husband — ^the husband, doubtless, of her heart — ^in the peaceful obscurity of domestic happiness, far remote from the scenes of her former greatness. AdeUcia's wisdom in avoiding all the snares of party, by retiring from pubhc life at a period so full of perilous excite- ment as the early part of Stephen's reign, cannot be disputed. Her gentle disposition, her good taste, and feminine feelings fitted her for the enjoyments of private life, and she made them her choice. There was, however, nothing of a selfish character in the conduct of the royal matron in dechning to exert such influence as she possessed in advocating the claims of her step-daughter, Matilda, to the thi'one of England. As a queen-dowager, Adehcia had no voice in the choice of a sovereign; as a female, she would have departed from her province had she intermeddled with intrigues of state, even for the purpose of assisting the lawful heir to the crown. She left the question to be decided by the peers and people of England, and as they did not oppose the coronation of Stephen, * Howard MomoriolB, Tiemoy's Hist= ArondeL 1 J 192 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. i; she had no pretence for interfering ; but she never sanctioned the usurpation of the successful rival of her step-daughter's right, by appearing at his court. And when the empress Matilda landed in England to dispute the crown with Stephen, the gates of Arundel-castle were thrown open, to receive her and her train, by the royal Adehcia and her high-minded husband, Albini.' It was in the year 1139 when this perilous guest claimed the hospitahty, and finally the protection, of the noble pair, whose wedded* happiness had been rendered more perfect by the birth of a son, probably very httle before that period, for it was only in the second year of their marriage. And she, over whose barrenness, as the consort of the mightiest monarch of the West, both sovereign and people had lamented for nearly fifteen years, became, when the wife of a subject, the mother of a numerous progeny, the ancestress of an illus- trious Une of Enghsh nobles, in whose veins her royal blood has been preserved in uninterrupted course to the present day. According to Malmesbury, and many other historians, the empress Matilda was only attended by her brother, the earl of Gloucester, and a hundred and forty followers, when she landed at Portsmouth in the latter end of September. Gervase and Brompton aver that she came with a numerous army; but the general bearings of history prove that this was not the fact, since Matilda was evidently in a state of absolute peril when her generous step-mother afibrded her an asylum within the walls of Anmdel-castle ; for we find that her devoted friend and brother, Robert earl of Gloucester, when he saw that she was honourably received there, considered her in a place of safety, and, attended by only twelve persons, proceeded to Bristol. No sooner was Stephen informed that the empress MatUda was in Arundel-castle, than he raised the siege of Marl- borough, and commenced a rapid march towards Arundel, in order to attack her in her retreat. The spirit with which he pushed his operations alarmed the royal ladies.^ Adelicia dreaded the destruction of her castle, the loss of her beloved ■ • ' Malmesbury. Speed. Rapin. ^ Gervase. M. Paris. H. Huutingdon. ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. 193 ctioned ighter's 5mpress tephen, ive her minded perilous L, of the jd more are that arriage. dghtiest uuented subject, EUL illus- al blood ent day. ians, the e earl of leu she Gervase s armyi was not absolute L asylum ;hat her er, when >nsidered persons, Matilda >f Marl- undel, in which he Adelicia beloved husband, and the breaking up of all the domestic happiness she had enjoyed since her retirement from pubhc life. The empress Matilda suffered some apprehension, lest her gentle step-mother should be induced to dehver her into the hands of her foe. There was, however, no less firmness than gentle- ness in the character of Adelicia; and the moment Stephen approached her walls, she sent messengers to entreat his for- bearance, assuring him " that she had admitted Matilda, not as his enemy, but as her daughter-in-law and early friend, who had claimed her hospitahty, which respect for the memory of l.\er late royal lord, king Henry, forbade her to refuse ; and these considerations would compel her to protect her imperial guest while she remained beneath the shelter of her roof.^ That if he came in hostile array against her castle of Arundel with intent to make Matilda his prisoner, she must frankly say she was resolved to defend her to the last extremity, not only because she was the daughter of her late dear lord, king Henry, but as the widow of the emperor Henry and her guest ;" and she besought Stephen, " by all the laws of com-tesy and the ties ( f kindred, not to place her in such a painful strait as to compel her to do any thing against her con- science.'^ In conclusion, she requested, with much earnest- ness, " that Matilda might be allowed to leave the castle, and retire to her brother." Stephen acceded to the proposal, the siege was raised, and the empress proceeded to join her adherents at Bristol. We are inclined to regard Stephen's courteous compliance with the somewhat unreasonable prayer of the queen-dowager, as a proof of the high respect in which she was held, and the great influence over the minds of her r jyal husband's kindred wliich her virtues and wiiming qualities had obtained while she wore the crown-matrimonial of England. William of Malmesbury, the only writer who speaks unkindly of Adelicia, intimates that a suspicion of treachery on her part caused the empress Matilda to quit Arundel ; " For," says he, " her mother-in-law, through female inconstancy, had broken the faith she had repeatedly pledged by messages sent into Nor- Gervase. Malmesbury. Bapin, r 6 194 ADELICIA OF LOUVAINE. mandy.^* It is scarcely probable that Adelicia, who took the utmost care to maintain a strict neutrality at this embarrassing crisis, had ever used any flattering professions to persuade the empress Matilda to assert her claims to the throne of England. Her sole offence appears to have been, inflexible determination not to engage herself in the struggle by espousing her im- perial step-daughter's cause. Our chronicler, whose book is dedicated to his patron and pupil the earl of Gloucester, gives of com'se a prejudiced view of conduct which, however politic, was opposed to the interests of their party. Adelicia con- ducted herself with equal prudence and magnanimity in the defence and dehverance of her step-daughter, exhibiting a very laudable mixture of the wisdom of the serpent with the inno- cence of the dove and the courage of the Hon. The Hon was the cognizance of the royal house of Louvaine; and Mr. Howard is of opinion, that this proud bearing was assumed by the family of Albini in token of descent from * the fair maid of Brabant,' * rather than with any reference to the fabled exploit of her second husband, related in Dugdale's Baronage. A grateful remembrance of the generous conduct of Stephen, in all probabihty withheld Adelicia and Albini from taking part with the empress Matilda against him, in the long and disastrous civil war, which desolated the ravaged plains of England with kindred blood during so many years of that inauspicious reign. They appear to have maintained a strict neutrality, and to have preserved their vassals and neighbours from the evils attendant upon the contest between the empress and the king. Adelicia, after her happy marriage with the husband of her choice, was not forgetful of the respect which she considered due to the memory of her late royal lord, king Henrj'^ ; for, by a third charter, she granted to his favourite abbey of Reading the chm-ch of Berkeley-Harness, in Gloucestershire,'* with suitable endowments, "to pray for the soul of king Henry, and duke Godfrey her father ; and also for the health of her present lord," whom she styles "William earl of Chichester, and for her own health, and the health of her ^ Howard Memorials, ' ilonasticon, cliarter iz. Howard Meinoriak , ADELICIA OP LOUVAINE. 195 children." Thus we observe that this amiable princess unites the departed objects of her veneration in the devotional offices which she fondly caused the monks of Reading to offer up for the welfare of her hving husband, her beloved children, and herself. To her third son, Adehcia gave the name of her deceased lord, king Henry. Her fourth was named Godfrey, after her father and elder brother, the reigning duke of Brabant. Adehcia chiefly resided at Arundel-castle after her marriage with WiUiam de Albini, but there is also traditional evidence that she occasionally hved with him in the noble feudal castle which he built, after his marriage with her, at Buckenham in Norfolk. It is still designated in that county as New Bucken- ham, though the mound, part of the moat, and a few moulder- ing fragments of the walls, are all that remain of the once stately hall that was at times graced with the dowager-court of Alix la Belle. The priory of St. Bartholomew, Ukewise called ' the priory of the Causeway,' in the parish of Lyminster, near Arundel, was estabhshed by queen Adehcia, after her marriage with Wilham de Albini, as a convent of Augustinian canons.* It was situated at the foot of the hill which overlooks the town from the south side of the river. The number of inmates appears originally to have been limited by the royal foun- dress to two persons, whovir>g tlic church cf FugglcsU)!;, where she foundud an hospittd. ^^ . ., •. i ,.^. ! ■ I , /■■ seal of scover figyis r hus- 1 both mains, raphy, L seal, ;h she ted in points veil of to the , it is ied in iT the ihcia's d over L rims, points a cap iceptre trefoil, in her roval » gown ftmond The lointcd racter, medi- le only ; % !i nd Man, art) iiioro Adt'Hciii place in t)B' ' /^/^/I'^/a ^y^ ' ()^'!^^'^^yi€:'' I mill ni lifiifv !'■ li iicii ld''l ^A' AAy\ OF npULOGNi:, I Hi, f ; .:.., \ Mi»t;)!i»; f- •• r t . •',,<* . .-^ - Hw i" n.b«t « ."4«v>r. pnowiw — Her fiitmr pr,j»i(l r:\?>' f- i;*»*4.A. - vi>y'iM<\ f.mv Mw nni.v E',-««ruv^'*i.-!' ■'•<»; ^■.iitrr-- ..A ..iJ> !• # -\^j[»mj<- t'luHstos- <7»>j»>w be«iifigi-*( Uo^-vr- Henrr y!' >^»u I-:, '^s ^ini-tm ff--vH K- K***-.-;*- **;*<< '■■k':^- •('!»««■ )',*'ia|r tfi^f--«?fe*l4>..»C' >. */^5j«»Wta C3Hia»' C>js«.ife 'fKJi^:' IH^II^*' ^nA*^ %||»,> — of th»« oaifkirti^ ifwiA - •'ti'Vt^fltor t*k«ii - Kx'?t«i^{»«<* ♦.«• Mepiion — TIIim's^ o.< kiit^' Sist'^tWt <*:s».*,jr:i»* «f«v»vi)i^ ^m\ <>tfUM -lift kw Decline of tho tnnm-xii'-^ ♦•««K«^ lrj»?-..y(f ^iiiiStU fotmiU St. Kitiiey-uw oy the 'JViVt-r — T»<.'aih &f th(? qyK*«s. .Jk-"«(tr-t i ^r«)f - Kpitrtnh • i hil«.lr- -Knxiu'i;— DcalV. of k'nj,^ St^'vlieii -l^tttvj.'f bL> rjjk gwxi ■■,E\Liiniut,iin of 'hrir InjiVu's. MvTrLDA ot )J'.r >•-'''., die last of our An{4lo-Nonnaii ijuotins, was u princi!S>' fi^ tvL ?i»K*»'ivt royjil buo oi' Kn{.;l!Hh iri**'»'»j : V««it she cnr- tniidv to!'mrf. of Ivur'tmd, oa I: ...^ '«w .'•«*>., I' ' f - *^1 '4" /, ' -' %^ («. <>< y I. ' X '* ■f H w^^'i 3r >-.' -"^'. '^-.y MATILDA C7 BOULOGNE, QUEEN OF STEPHEN. JIatilda's descent from Saxon kings — Her mother a Saxon princess — Her father — Matilda espoused to Stephen of Blois — Residence at Tower-Royal — Matilda's popularity in London — Stephen seizes the throne — Birth of prince Eustace — - Coronation of Matilda — Queen left regent — Disasters — Queen besieges Dover- castle — Mediates peace with her uncle — Empress Matilda lantls in England — Henry of Blois — Civil war — Queen goes to France — Marriage of her young heir — Raises an army — Stephen captured — Arrogance of the empress — Queen's grief — Exertions in Stephen's cause — Queen Matilda writes to bishop Blois — Her supplication for Stephen's liberty — Obduracy of the empress — Queen appeals to arms — Empress in Winchester — Her seal — Insults Londoners — Driven from London — Successes of the queen — Takes Winchester — Escape of the empress — Earl of Gloucester taken — Exchanged for Stephen — lUncss of king Stephen — Empress escapes from Oxford — Her son — Decline of the empress's cause — Queen Matilda founds St. Katherine by the Tower — Death of the queen — Burial — Tomb — Epitaph — Childi'en — Eustace — Death of kmg Stephen — Burial by his queen — Exhumation of their bodies. Matilda of Boulogne, the last of our Aiiglo-Norman queens, was a princess of the ancient royal line of English monai'chs. Her mother, Mary of Scotland, was the second daughter of Malcolm Canmore and Margaret Athehng, and sister to Matilda the Good, the first queen of Henry Beauclerc. Mary of Scotland was educated, with her elder sister, in the royal monasteries of Wilton and Romsey, under the stern tutelage of their aunt Christina; ar.d was doubtless, hke the princess Matilda, compelled to assume the habit of a votaress. Whether the youthful Mary testified the same hvely antipathy to the consecrated black veil that was exhibited by her elder sister, no gossiping monastic clironider has recorded * but she cer- tainly forsook the cloister for tlie court of England, on 200 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. Matilda's auspicious nuptials with Henry I., and exchanged the badge of celibacy for the nuptial ring soon afterwards, when her royal brother-in-law gave her in marriage to Eustace count of Boulogne. The father of this nobleman was brother- in-law to Edward the Confessor, having married Goda, the widowed countess of Mantes, sister to that monarch; both himself and his son Eustace had been powerful supporters of the Saxon cause. The enterprising spirit of the counts of Boulogne, and the contiguity of their dominions to the Enghsli shores, had rendered them troublesome neighbours to William the Conqueror and his sons, till the chivalric sp.ilt of crusading attracted their energies to a loftier object, and converted these pirates of the narrow seas into heroes of the Cross, and hbe- rators of the holy city. Godfrey of Boulogne, the hero of Tasso^s Gierusaleme Liberata, and his brother Baldwin, who successively wore the crown of Jerusalem, were the imcles of Matilda, Stephen's queen. Her father, Eustace count of Boulogne, was also a distinguished crusader. He must have been a mature hus- band for Mary of Scotland, since he was the companion in arms of Robert of Normandy, and her uncle Edgar Athehng. Matilda, or, as she is sometimes called for brevity, Maud of Boulogne, was the sole offspring of this marriage, and the heiress of this illustrious house. There is every reason to beheve Matilda was educated in the abbey of Bermondsey, to which the countess of Boulogne, her mother, was a mimificent benefactress. The countess died in this abbey while on a visit to England in the year 1115, and was buried there. We gather from the Latin verses on her tomb, that she was a lady of very noble quaUties, and that her death was very painful and unexpected.' Young as Matilda was, she was certainly espoused to Stephen de Blois before her mother's decease ; for this plain reason, that the charter by which the countess of Boulogne, in the year 1114, grants to the Cluniac monks of Bemiondsey iier manor of Kynewardstone, is, in the year she died, con- firmed by Eustace her husband, and Stephen her son-in-law.* * Aiuudes AbbatfB de Bermondsey. * Ibid. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 201 Stephen, the third son of a vassal peer of France, obtained this great match through the favour of his royal uncle, Henry I. He inherited from the royal Adela, his mother, the splendid talents, fine person, and enterprising spirit of the mighty Nor- man line of sovereigns. A very tender friendship had sub- sisted between Adela countess of Blois, and her brother Henry Beauclerc, who at diflferent periods of his hfe had been under important obhgations to her ; and when Adela sent her landless boy to seek his fortimes at the court of England, Henry returned the friendly offices which he had received from this faithful sister, by lavishing wealth and honour on her son. Stephen received the spurs of knighthood from his uncle king Henry, previous to the battle of Tinchebray, where he took the count of Mortagne prisoner, and received the investi- ture of his lands. He was farther rewarded by his royal kinsman with the hand of Matilda, the heiress of Boulogne.* " When Stephen was but an earl,'* says William of Malmes- bury, " he gained the affections of the people, to a degree that can scarcely be imagined, by the affabihty of his manners, and the wit and pleasantry of his conversation, condescending to chat and joke with persons in the humblest stations as well as with the nobles, who dehghted in his company, and attached themselves to his '^ause from personal regard."^ Stephen was count of Boulogne in Matilda's right, when, as count of Mortagne, he swore fealty in 1126 to the empress Matilda, as heiress to the Norman dominions of Henry I. The London residence of Stephen and Matilda was Tower- 'Royal, a palace built by king Henry, and presented by him to his favoured nephew on the occasion of his wedding the niece of his queen, Matilda Atheling. The spot to which this regal-sounding name is still appen-'"''., is a close lane betwee)^ Cheapside and Watling-street. Tower- Royal was a fortress of prodigious strength ; for more than once, when the Tower of London itself fell into the hands of the rebels, this embattled palace of Stephen remained in security.^ It is a remarkable fact, that Stephen had embarked on i ' il ni i.t ' Ordericus Vltalis. * W. Malmesbury. Ordericua Vitnlji. ' Stowc'8 Survey. Pennant's London. 203 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. board the ' Blanche Nef ' with his royal cousin, Williain the Atheling, and the rest of her fated crew ; but with two knights of his train, and a few others who prudently followed his example, he left the vessel with the remark that " she was too much crowded with foohsh, headstrong young people."* After the death of prince Wilham, Stephen's influence with his royal uncle became unbounded, and he was his constant com- panion in all his voyages to Normandy. There are evidences of conjugal iniidelity on the part of tliis gay and gallant young prince, about this period, proving that MatUda's cup of happiness was not without some alloy of bitterness. How far her peace was affected t^' the scan- dalous reports of the passion which her haughty cousin the empress Matilda, the acknov/ledged heiress of England and Normandy, was said to cherish for her aspiring husband, we cannot presume to say ; but there was an angel-hke spirit in the princess which supported her under every trial, and ren- dered her a beautiful example to every royal female in the married state. Two children, a son and a daughter, were bom to the young earl and countess of Boulogne, during king Henry's reign. The boy was named Baldwin, after Matilda's uncle, the king of Jerusalem,— a Saxon name, withal, and therefore likely to soimd pleasantly to the e-iis of the EngUsh, who, no doubt, looked with complacency on the infant heir of Bou- logne, as the son of a princess of the royal Atheling blood, bom among them, and educated by lus amiable mother to venerate their ancient laws, and to speak their language. Prince Baldwin, however, died in early childhood, and was interred in the priory of the Holy Trinity, without Aldgate, founded by his royal aimt, Matilda of Scotland. The second child of Stephen and Matilda, a daughter named Maud, bom also in the reign of Henry I., died young, and was buried in the same church. Some historians aver that Maud survived long enough to be espoused to the earl of Milan. So dear was the memory of these her buried hopes to the heart of Matilda, that after she became queen of England, and her loss was II f! 1 or^,.^.„ I'li-i;, MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 203 scan- supplied by the birth of another son and daughter, she con- tinued to lament for them ; and the church wnA hospital of St. Katherine by the Tower were founded and endowed by her, that prayers might be perpetually said by the pious sister- hood for the repose of the souls of her first-bom children. In the latter days of king Henry, while Stephen was engaged in stealing the hearts of the men of England, after the fashion of Absalom, the mild virtues of his amiable consort recalled to their remembrance her royal aunt and namesake, Henry's first queen, and inspired them with a trembling hope of seeing her place filled eventually by a princess so much more resembling her than the haughty wife of Geoffrey of Anjou. The Norman woman looked upon her mother's people with scorn, and from her they had nothing to expect but the iron yoke which her grandfather, tlie Conqueror, had laid upon their necks, with, perhaps, an aggravation of their miseries. But Stephen, the husband of her gentle cousin, the Enghsh-hearted Matilda, had whispered iu their ears of the confirmation of the great charter of their hberties, which Henry of Normandy had granted when he became the husband of the descendant of their ancient kings, and broken when her influence was destroyed by death and a foreign marriage. King Henry's daughter, the empress Matilda,* was the wife of a foreign prince residing on the continent. Stephen aid his gentle princess were hving in London, and daily endear- ing themselves to the people by the most popular and affable behaviour. The public mind was certainly predisposed in favour of Stephen's designs, when the sudden death of king Henry in Normandy left the right of succession for the first time to a female heir. Piers of Langtoft thus describes the perplexity of the nation respecting the choice of the sovereign : "On bier lay king Henry, On bier beyond the sea, And no man might rightly know "Who his heir suld be." Stephen, following the example of the deceased monarch's conduct at the time of liis brother Rufus's death,^ left his ' The biography of the empress Matilda is contiiiuod through this life. ' Mahnesbui'y, li I 204 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. royal uncle and benefactor's obsequies to the care of Robert earl of Gloucester, and the other peers who were witnesses to his last words ; and embarking at Whitesand, a small port in Matilda's dominions, in a hght vessel, on a wintry sea, he landed at Dover in the midst of such a storm of thunder and lightning, that, according to William of Malmesbury, every one imagined the world was coming to an end. As soon as he arrived in London, he convened an asb> ably of the Anglo- Noi aian barons, before whom his confederate and friend, Hugh Bigod, the steward of king Henry's household, svore on the holy Evangehsts, "that the deceased sovereign had disinherited the empress Matilda on his death-bed, and adopted his most dear nephew Stephen for his heir."^ On this bold affirmation, the archbishop of Canterbmy absolved the peers of the oaths of fealty they had twice sworn to the daughter of tlieir late sovereign, and declared " that those oatlis were null and void, and contrary, moreover, to the laws and customs of the English, who had never permitted a woman to reign over them." This was a futile argument, as no female had ever stood in that important position, with regard to the succession to the crown of England, in which the empress Matilda was now placed ; therefore no precedent had occurred for the establishment of a salic law in England. Stephen was crowned on the 26th of December, his name- day, the feast of St, Stephen.^ He swore to estabhsh the righteous laws of Edward the Confessor, for the general happiness of all classes of his subjects.' The English regarded Stephen's union with a princess of their race as the best pledge of the sincerity of his professions in regard to the amelioration of their condition. These hopes were, of course, increased by the birth of prince Eustace, whom Matilda brought into the world very soon after her husband's accession to the throne of England. It was, perhaps, this auspicious event that prevented Matilda from being associated in the coronation of her lord on St. Stephen's-day, in Westminster- abbey. Her own coronation, according to Gervase, took ' Malmeshury. Rapin. • Sir Harris Nicolas's Chronology of History. ■ MahnesLurj'. Erompton. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 203 r place March 23nd, 1136, being Easter- Sunday, not quite three months afterwards. Stephen was better enabled to support the expenses of a splendid ceremonial in honour of his beloved queen, having, immediately after his own hasty inauguration, posted to Winchester and made himself master of the treasuiy of his deceased uncle king Henry; which contained, says Malmesbury, "one hundred thousand pounds, besides stores of plate and jewels." The empress Matilda was in Anjou at the time of her father's sudden demise. She was entirely occupied by the grievous sickness of her husband, who was supposed to be on his death-bed.* After the convalescence of her lord, as none of her partisans in England made the shghtest movement in her favour, she remained quiescent for a season, well knowing that the excessive popularity of a new monarch is seldom oi long continuance in England. Stephen had begun well ' y abohshing ' danegelt,' and leaving the game in woods, forests, and uncultivated wastes common to all his subjects ; but after awhile he repented of his hberal pohcy, and called court- f inquiry to make men give account of the damage and los he had sustained in his fallow-deer and other wild game; he likewise enforced the offensive system of the other Norman monarchs for their preservation. Next he obtained the enmity of the clergy, by seizing the revenues of the see of Canterbury ; and lastly, to the great alarm and detriment of the peacefully disposed, he imprudently permitted his nobles to build or fortify upwards of a thousand of those strongholds of wrong and robbery called castles, which rendered their owners in a great measure independent of the crown. Baldwin de Redvers, earl of Devonshire, waa the first to give Stephen a practical proof of his want of foresight in this matter, by telling him, on some shght cause of offence, " that he was not king of right, and he would obey him no longer.'* Stephen proceeded in person to chastise him. In the mean time David king of Scotland invaded the northern counties, imder pretence of revenging the wrong that had been done to his niece, the empress Matilda, by Stephen's usurpation and ' Carruthers' History of Scotland, pp= -32?, 328, t m 206 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. perjury. Matilda of Boulogne, Stephen's consort, stood in the same degree of relationship to the king of Scotland as the empress Matilda, since her mother, Mary of Scotland, was his sister, no less than Matilda the queen of Henry I. Stephen concluded a hasty peace with the Welsh princes, and advanced to repel the invasion of king David; hut when the hostile armies met near Carhsle, he succeeded in adjusting all differ- ences by means of an amicable treaty, perhaps through the entreaties or mediation of his queen. Easter was kept at Westminster this year, 1137, by Stephen and Matilda, with greater splendour than had ever been seen in the court of Henry Beauclerc, to celebrate the happy termination of the storm that had so lately darkened the pohtical horizon ; but the rejoicings of the queen were fear fuUy interrupted by the alarming illness which suddenly attacked the king, in the midst of the festivities. This illness, the effect no doubt of the preternatural exertions of both mental and corporeal powers, which Stephen had compelled himself to use during the recent momentous criris of his fortunes, was a sort of stupor or lethargy so nearly resembling death, that it was reported in Normandy that he had breathed his last; on which the party of the empress began to take active measures, both on the continent and in England, for the recognition of her rights.' The count of Anjou entered Normandy at the head of an army, to assert the claims of his wife and son, which were, however, disputed by Stephen's elder brother, Theobnld count of Blois, not in behalf of Stephen, but himself; while the earl of Gloucester openly declared in favour of his sister the empress, and delivered the keys of Falaise to her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou." When Stephen recovered from his death-like sickness, he found every thing in confusion, — the attention of his fiiithful queen, Matilda, having doubtless been absorbed in anxious watchings by his sick bed, during the protracted period of his strange and alarming malady. She was now left to take care of his interests in England as best she miglit ; for Stephen, rousiiiff himself from the pause of exhausted nature, hastened ' lluvuduu. Broniptun. OnUrkuti Vilulit, M. I'uriK, &c. &0. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 207 to the continent with his infant heir Eustace, to whom queen Matilda had resigned the earldom of Boulogne, her own fair inheritance. Stephen, by the strong eloquence of an immense bribe, prevailed on Louis VII. of France, as suzerain of Nor- mandy, to invest the miconscious babe with the duchy, and to receive his liege homage for the same.^ Meantime, some portentous events occurred during Matilda's government. Sudden and mysterious conflagrations then, as now, indicated the sullen discontent of the very lower order of the English people. On the 3rd of June, 1137, Rochester cathedral was destroyed by ftre ; the following day, the whole city of York, with its cathedral and thirty churches, was burnt to the ground; soon after, the city of Bath shared the same fate. Then conspiracies began to be formed in favour of the empress Matilda, in various parts of England ; and lastly, her uncle, David king of Scotland, once more entered Northumber- land, with banners displayed, in support of his supplanted kinswoman's superior title to the crown.^ Queen Matilda, with courage and energy suited to this alarming crisis, went in person and besieged the insurgents, who had seized Dover- castle ; and she sent orders to the men of Boulogne, her loyal subjects, to attack the rebels by sea. The Boulonnois obeyed the commands of their beloved princess with alacrity, and to such good pmpose, by covering the Channel mth their light- armed vessels, tliat tlie besieged, not being able to receive tl.e slightest succour by sea, were forced to submit to tlie queen.' At this juncture Stephen arrived : he succeeded in cliastising the Icjwlers of the revolt, and drove the Scottish king over his own border. Nisvertheless, the empress Matilda's party, in the year 1138, began to assume a formidable aspect. Every day brought tidings to the court of Stephen of some fresh revolt. William of Malniesbury relates, that when Stephen wns informed of these desertions, he pas'^iouatcly exclaimed, " Why did they make me king, if tiiey forsake me thus ? By the birth of God ! * 1 will never be cjdled au abdicated king." ' Ordoricus VltnliK. II. Huntingdon. Urninpton. M. Viin«. Uapin. SiH'otl. * Uriiapton. Hiipiji. ( )rdt'ri<'H>t V'italir*. ■' Onloricud ViUilU. * Th'm wiis SU'iilu'u s usual oiitli.— Miiluu'sbury. r. II 208 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. The invasion of queen Matilda's uncle, David of Scotland, for tlie third time, increased the distraction of her royal husband's affairs, especisdly as Stephen was too much occupied with the internal troubles of his kingdom to be able to proceed in person against him. David and his army were, however, defeated with immense slaughter, by the warlike Thurstan, archbishop of York, at Cuton-Moor. The particulai's of this engagement, called *the battle of the Standard,' where the church-militant performed such notable ser\ice for the crown, belong to general liistory, and are besides too A\ell known to recjuire repetition in the biography of Stephen's queen. Matilda' was mainly instrumental in negotiating the peace wliich was concluded this year between her micle and her lord. Prince Henry, the heir of Scotland, having, at the same time, renewed his homsige to Stephen for the earldom of Ilmitingdon, was invited by the king to liis court. The attention >vith which the young prince wjis treated by the king and (jueen was viewed Avith invidious eyes by theii* ill-mannered courtiers ; and Ratuilph, eiu'l of Chester, took such great oH'cnce at the royal stranger bemg seated above him at dinner, that he made it an excuse for joinuig the revolted barons, and persuaded a knot of ecpiuUy uncivdized nobles to follow his example on the same pretence.'^ The empress Matdda, taking advantage of tlie fierce con- tention between Stephen and the hierarchy of England, made her tiu-dy appeju-ance, in pursuance of her claims to the crown, in the autumn of 1130. Like her uncle, Robert the Unready, the empress idlowcd the critical moment to shp wluii, by prompt and energetic measures, she might have gained the prize for which she contended. But she did not arrive till Stephen had mad*- himself nuister of the castles, and, what wjis of more importance to him, the great wealth of his three refractory prelates, the bishops of Salisbury, Ely, and Jjincoln. When the empress was shut up withui the walls of Arundel- ' "Tlinni^h fho niciliRtion of Mnfiltln, the wifi' of SttjOicii, iiiul nloco of Diiviil, II jK'iu'ii wiw ntiu'ltult'd at Diirliuiu K'twifii IIk'hc two kind's, ('(|uitublo ill itiw'lf, iind UMiM to both imrtitfi." — Ciirnitlicr»' llbtt)ry ot Si'utluiul, vol. i. n. aa». I SueLvr % MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 209 ^'ul. i. castle, Stephen might by one bold stroke have made her his prisoner ; but he was prevailed upon to respect the ties of consanguinity, and the liigh rank of the widow and of the daughter of his benefactor, king Heniy. It is possible, too, that recollections of a tenderer nature, with regard to his cousin the empress, might deter him from imperilling her person by pushing the siege. According to some of the chroniclers, the empress sent, with queen iVdelicia's recjuest that slie might be permitted to retire to Bristol, a guilefid letter or message to Stephen,* which induced him to promise, on his word of honour, that he would grant her safe-conduct to that city. Thougli the empress knew that Stephen had violated the most solemn oaths in regard to her uccession to the crown, she rehed upon his honour, put herself mider his protection, and was safely conducted to the castle of Bristol. King Stephen gave to his brother, Henry of Blois, bishop of Winchester, and to Widleran esu'l of Mellent, the charge of escorting the empress to Bristol-castle. This bright trait of chivjdry contrasts beautifully with the selfishness and perfidy too prevalent at the era. It was during this journey, in all probability, that Henry de Blois arranged his plans with the empress Matilda for making her mistress of the royal city of Winchester, which was entirely under his influence. While the earl of Gloucester, on beludf of his sister the empress, was contesting with king Stephen the realm of Eng- land at the sword's point, queen Matilda proceeded to France >\ith her son Eustace, to endeavour to strengthen her husband's cause by the aid of her foreign connexions ; and while at the court of France, successfidly exerted her (Uj)l()matic powers in negotiating a marriiige between the ])rince88 Constance, sister of Louis VII., and prince Eustace, tlien about four years old. The queen presided at this infant niiwriuge, which wjis cele- brated witli great splendour. Instead of receiAing a dowry M'ith the ])rinccs8, queen Matilda i)ai(l a large sum to purchase her son the bride; Louis VI I. in return solonmly invested his yomig brother-in-law with the (hichy of Nonnandy, and lent his powerfid aid to maintain liim there as the noiuiuul ' Oennso. Henry of lluuthii^iluiu VOL. U If i 210 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. sovereign, under the direction of the queen his mother. This alliimce, which took place in the year 1140/ greatly raised the hopes of Stephen's party ; but the bands of foreign mer- cenaries, which his queen Matilda sent over from Boulogne and the ports of Normandy to his succour, had an injurious effect on his cause, and were beheld with jealous alarm by the people of the land ; " whose miseries were in no sHght degree aggravated," says the chronicler Gervase, " by the arrival of these hunger-starved wolves, who completed the destruction of the land's fehcity." It was during the absence of queen Matilda and her sou prince Eustace, that the battle, so disastrous to her husband's cause, was fought beneath the walls of Lincoln, on Candlemas- day, 1141. Stephen had shut up a great many of the empress Matilda's partisans and their families in the city of Lincoln, which he had been for some time besieging. The earl of Gloucester's youngest daughter, lately married to her cousin Kanulph, earl of Chester, was among the besieged; and so determined were the two earls, her father and her husband, for her deliverance, that they encouraged their followers to swim, or ford, the deep cold waters of the river Trent,^ behind which Stephen and his army were encamped, and fiercely attacked him in their dripping garments, — and all for the reUef of the fair ladies who were trembling within the walls of Lincoln, and beginning to suffer from lack of provisions. These were the days of chivalry, be it remembered." Speed gives us a descriptive catalogue of some of the leading cha- racters among our valiant king Stephen's knights sans penr, which, if space were allowed us, we would abstract from the animated harfmgue with wliich the earl of Gloucester endea- voured to warm his shivering followers into a virtuous blaze of indignation, after they had emerged from their cold bath.^ His batirical f 1 'quence was received by the partisans of the empress with a tremendous shout of applause ; and Stephen, not to be behind-hand with his foes m bandying personal abuse as I ilk * riorcncf! of Worcester. Tyrrell. a 11-1. -J \r !i * Roger Hovoduu. H. Huntingdon. Polyclironicon. ' Malniosbury. Kapiii. SpociL a 11-1. -J \r !i a J -n^i 1 - J uiyuuru Tci'^ii. cjif-ii. inuiiiifBUtiry. M MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 211 'jxh-hL I as a prelude to the fight, as his own powers of articulation happened to be defective, deputed one Baldwin Fitz-Gilbert, a knight who was blessed with a stentorian voice, to thimder forth his recrimination on the earl of Gloucester and his host in the ears of both armies. Fitz-Gilbert, in his speech, laid scornful stress on the illegitimacy of the empress's champion, whom he designated " Robert, the base-bom general." ' The battle, for which both parties had prepared themselves with such a sharp encounter of keen words, was, to use the expression of contemporary chroniclers, " a very sore one ;" but it seems as if Stephen had fought better than his followers that day. " A very strange sight it was,'' says Matthew Paris, " there to behold king Stephen, left almost alone in the field, yet no man daring to approach him, while, grinding his teeth and foaming Uke a furious wild boar, he drove back with his battle-axe the assaihug squadrons, slaying the foremost of them, to the eternal renown of his courage. If but a hundred like himself had been with him, a whole army had never been able to capture his person ; yet, single-handed as he was he held out^ tiU first his battle-axe brake, and after- wards liis sword shivered in his grasp with the force of his own resistless blows, though he was borne backward to his knees by a great stone, which by some ignoble person was flung at him. A stout knight, WilUam of Kames, then seized him by the helmet, and holding the point of his sword to his throat, called upon him to surrender."'' Even in that ex- tremity Stephen refused to give up the fragment of his sword to any one but the earl of Gloucester, his valiavit kinsman, who, coming up, bade his infuriated troops refraiii from fur- ther violence, and conriucted his royal captive to the empress Matilda, at Gloucester. The earl of Gloucester, it is said, treated Stephen with some degree of courtesy; but the empress Matilda, whose hati'ed appears to hav emanated from a deeper root of bitterness than mere rivalry t(d to make his esc^.pe, or it was reported that he had been seen several times beyond the bounds prfi-cdbed for air and exercise/' The empress Matilda mail a her pubhc and triiunpluini '::,try into the city of Winch ster J^'ebruary 7, where rhe wm received with great state bj'' Stephen'.^ equally haughty brother, Henry de Blois, ])ishop of Winchester and cardinal legate He appeared at the head of all the clergv and monks of the di.ocese; and even the nmis of Winchester'' ^a thing before imheurd of) walktid unveiled in thu procetision, to receive and vselci^iiie the rif^litfid h rj-ess of the realm, the dai^-Ater of th^:. gTeat ?Jid ItL'rtied Her)jy Fitz-Conqueror, and of Matildit the deseendaat of uc .A lijling. The EngUsh had also the satis- faction of £eeiii«, ^ho male representative of their ancient raonaTcbs on th:.>t occasion within the walls of Winchester; foi Dfiviil of Scotland, the son of Margaret Atheling, was present to do honour to his niece, — ^the victorious rival of Stephen's crown. Henry de Blois resigned the regal orna- ments, and the paltry residue of her father's ti'ea^^ure, into the hands of the empress. The next day he received her witli great pomp in his cathedral-church, where he excom- ir.tmicated all the adherents of his unfortimate brother, and promised absolution to all who should abandon his cause and joiii the empress.^ In this melancholy position did queen Matilda find her husband's cause, when she returned from her successfu *., go- tintion of the marriage between the French kinn;'s sister and her soil the Httle count of Boidogne, whom she had left, for the present, estabUshed as duke of Normandy. The peers and clergy had alike abandoned the luckless Stephen in his adversity ;' and the archbishop of Canterbury, beii; - r. man of tender conscience, had actually visited Stephen 1 4 prison, * ^-l 'Ibome's Hist, of Winchostt , Oosta F : " . ni. Gervase. '' Mulinetibury. Huntingdon. Qer. x*i . Mftlmi'sburj i! MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 213 to request his permission to ^xiaisfer his oath of allegiance to his victorious rival the emp ess Matilda. In this predicament, the faithfid consort of tl e fallen monarch apphed herself to the citizens of London, \fith. whom she had ever maintained a great share of popularity. They knew her vu-tues, for she had Uved among then ; and her tender aflPection for her royal spouse in his adversity was well pleasing to those who had witnessed the domestic happiness of the princely pair, while they lived in Tower-Royal as count and countess of Boidogne ; and the remembrance of Stephen's free and pleasant conduct, and affable association with all sorts and conditions of men, before he wore the thorny diadem of a doubtful title to the sovereignty of England, disposed the magistracy of London to render every assistance in their power to their mifortunate king.' So powerfully, indeed, had the personal influence of queen Matilda operated in that quarter, that when the magis- trates of London were summoned to send their deputies to a synod at Winchester, held by Henry de Blois, which had predetennined the election of the empress Matilda to the throne, they instructed them to demand the hberation of the king in the name of the barons and citizens of London, as a preliminary to entering into any discussion with the partisans of his enemy. Henry de Blois replied, " That it did not become the Londoners to side with the adherents of Stephen, whose object was to embroil the kingdom in fresh troubles."* Queen Matilda, finding that the trusty citizens of London were baffled by the priestly subtlety of her husband's brother, Henrj de BL;is, took the decided, but at that time un- precedented step, of M'riting in her own name an eloquent letter to the synod, earnestly entreating those in whose hands the government of England was vested to restore the king, lier husband, to liberty. This letter the quoenV. faithful ch»])lniTi, (^liristlai-. •lelivered, in full synod, to the legate Henrv -Ic iiioi& The nrelnte, after he had silently perused tli^ touching appejiJ of his royal sister-in-law, not only refused tu commmiicalo its purport U the ns^^ciuuly. but, r;xalting liis voice to the highest ])itch, proclaimed "tliat it ,»U8 illegid and ' iliiluicbbury. liupin. Ibid. ■|i I I 214 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. improper to be recited in that great assembly, composed as it was of ecclesiastics and dignitaries ; for, among other objection- able points, it was witnessed by the signature of a person who had at n former council used insulting language to the bishops." Christian was not thus to be baffled : he boldly took his royal mistress's letter out of the imperious legate's hand, and exalting his voice in turn, so as to be distinctly heard by all present, he read it aloud to the astonished conclave, in spite of the anger and opposition of him who was at that time virtually the ruling power in the realm. The following brief abstract is all that WiUiam of Malmesbury, who dedicates his history to the leader of the adverse party, Robert earl of Gloucester, thinks proper to give of Matilda's letter : " The queen earnestly entreats the whole clergy assembled, and especially the bishop of "Winchester, the brother of her lord the king, to restore her said lord to his kingdom, whom abandoned persons, even such as were imder homage to him, have cast into chains." The legate endeavoured to frustrate any good effect which this conjugal appeal from the fa ♦^^hful consort of his imfortunate brother might have produced, by dissolving the assembly, having first excommunicated the leading members of the royal party. He then declared " that the empress MatUda was lawfully elected as the domina or sovereign lady of England." The following are the wtrds of the formula in which the declaration was delivered : " Having first, as is fit, invoked the aid of Almighty God, we elect as lady of England and Nor- mandy the daughter of the glorious, the rich, the good, the peaceftd kingHemy, and to her we promise fealty and support."* No word is here of the good old laws — the laws of Alfred and St. Edward, or of the great charter which Henry I. agreed to obsei*ve. The empress was the leader of the Norman party, and the head of Norman feudality, which, in many instances, was incompatible with the Saxon constitution. The imperial " domina" bore her honours with any thing but meekness ; she refused to hsten to the counsel of her friends; she treated those of her adversaries whom misfortune drove to seek her clemency with insolence and cruelty, stripping them of their ' QeHta Stepboui Eegia. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 215 possessions, and rendering them perfectly desperate. The friends who had contributed to her elevation frequently met with a harsh refusal when they asked favours ; " and/' says an old historian, " when they bowed themselves down before her, «he did not rise in return/" Meantime, the sorrowful queen Matilda was unremitting in her exertions for the liberation of her unfortunate lord, who was at this time heavily ironed and ignominiously treated, by order of the empress.^ Not only England, but Normandy was now lost to the captive monarch her husband and their young heir, prince Eustace ; for GeoflPrey of Anjou, as soon as he received intelligence of the decisive battle of Lincoln, per- suaded the Norman baronage to withdraw their allegiance from their recently invested duke, and to transfer it to his wife the empress and her son Henry, certainly the rightful heirs of WiUiam the Conqueror. The loss of regal state and sovereign power was, however, regarded by the queen of Stephen as a matter of little moment. In the season of adversity it was not the king, but the man, the husband of her youth and the father of her children, to whom the tender- hearted Matilda of Boulogne clung, with a devotion not cften to be met with in the personal history of royalty. It was for his sake that she condescended to humble herself by address- ing the most lowly entreaties to her haughty cousin, the empress Matilda, — ^to her who, if the report of some contem- porary chroniclers is to be credited, had betrayed her husband into a breach of his marriage vow. The insulting scorn with which the empress rejected every petition which the wedded wife of Stephen presented to her in behalf of her fallen foe, looks hke the vindictive spirit of a jealous woman ; espe^^-^^v when we reflect, that not only the virtues of Matila^ oi Boulogne, but the closeness of her consanguinity to herself, required her to be treated with some degree of considera- tion and respect. There appears even to be a covert reference to the former position ^' -hich these princesses had stood, as rivals in Stephen'^ * Gcsta Stcphani Regis. Tliicrry. S- ve, by the proposal made by his fond queen. She ' Malmesbury. SjKs'd. ■4t 216 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. I I proposed, if his life were but spared, to relinquish his society, and that he should not only for ever forego all claims upon the crown and succession of England and Normandy, but, taking upon himself the vows and habit of a monk, devote himself to a religious life, either as a pilgrim or a cloistered anchorite,^ on conditio^? ; u' t^eir son, prince Eustace, might be permitted to eDJC)'^ in ' • : right, the earldom of Boulogne, and his father's earldom of Mortagne, the grant of Henry I. Her petition was rejected by the victorious empress with no less contempt than all the others which Stephen's queen had ventured to prefer, although her siii^ '. this instance was backed by the powerful mediation of Henry de Blois. This prelate, who appears to have thought more of peace than of brotherhood, was not only desirous of settling pubhc order on such eai^ terms for his new sovereign, but willing to secure to his nepliew the natural inheritance of his parents, of which the eiapress's party had obtained possession. So bhnd, how- ever, was this obdurate princess in pursuing the headlong impulse of her \dndictive nature, that nothing could induce her to perceive how much it was her interest to grant the prayer of her unhappy cousin ; and she repulsed the suit of Hen.^ de Blois so rudely, that, when next summoned to her presence, he refused to come. QuDcn Matilda improved this difference between her haughty rival and her brother-in-law to her own advantage ; and, ha\ing obtained a private interview with him at Guildford, she prevailed on liim, by the eloquence of her tears and entreaties, to abssolve all he^* husband's party whom, as pope's legate, he !■ id a low day.- before fxcommunicated, and to enter into a negotiation with her for the deliverance of his brother.'^ Nor did queen Mat^'lda rest her '. In the name of her son, prince Eustace, aided by WiUin'"^ of Yprcs, ^Stephen's able but unpopular minister of t ate, she raised the standard of her captive lord in Kent an.' irre , where a strong purty was presently organized in his t uom- , and finding that tlieie w'-^i nothing to be hoped for from her obdurate kinswoman, the empress Matilda, on any other terms but the mireasoii- ' Y-PcKligma Neustria. Speed. Pepin. ' Speed. Tyrrell. MATILDA OF BOULOG^^:. 217 licr en's Jd'lV lere um, son- able one of giving up her o\v %ir inheritance, she, like a true daughter of the heroic hoii of Boulogne, and the niece of the illustrious Godfrey and Baldwin, prepared herself for a struggle with such courageous energy of mind and prompti- tude of action, that many a recreant baron was shamed into quitting the inglorious shelter of his castle, and leading forth his vassals to strengthen the muster of the royal heroine. In the pages of superficially written histories, much is said of the prowess and military skiU displayed by prince Eustace at this period ; but Eustace was scarcely seven years old at the time when these eflfbrts were made for the deliverance of his royal sire. It is therefore plain, to those who reflect on the evidence of dates, that it was the high-minded and prudent queen, his mother, who avoided all Amazonian display by acting under the name of ^ er son. Her feminine virtues, endearing quahties, and conj igal devotion, had already created the most powerful interest in her favour ; while reports of the pride and hardness of heart of her stem relative and name- sake, the new domina, began to be industriously circulated through the land by the offended legate, Henry de Blois.' WUHam of Malmesbury mentions, expressly, that the empress Matilda ver bore or received the title of regina, or queen of Engktiid, but that of domina, or lady of England. On her \j ad seal, w^hich she caused to be made for her royal use at Winchest'T, she entitles herself " Romanorum Regina Mac- thUdis ;' id in a charter granted by her, just after the death of her brother and champion, Robert earl of Gloucester, she styles herself " Regina Romanorum, et Domina Anglorum." The seal to which we have just alluded bears the figure of the grand-daughter of the Norman conqueror, crowncnl and seated on the King's-bench, with a sceptre in her right hand, but bearing neither orb nor dove, the symbols of sovereign ])ower and mercy. She was not an anointed queen, neither had the crown-royal e\er been placed on her brow.* The ' Tyrrell. ' We are indebted for a dniwing of the imjircssion of another seal pertaining to Matilda tho empress, to the kindness of Miss Mary Aglionby, who has ele- gantly delisieivtcd it from a deed iK-loiiging to her iluniiy. 'i'lie head-dress of the empress is simpler than that above mentioned, the veil being confined by ; I \ \\ It ii i r 218 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. garland of fleurs-de-lis, by which the folds of her matrcoly wimple are confined, is of a simpler form than the fo 'al diadems of the Anglo-Norman sovereigns, as shown on ihe broad seals of William Rufiis, Henry I., and Stephen. Pro- bably an alteration would have been made^ if the coronation of Matilda, as sovereign of England, had ever taken place. But the consent of the city of London was an indispensable preliminary to her inauguration ; and to London she proceeded in person, to obtain this important recognition. Though the majority of the city authorities were disposed to favour the cause of Stephen, for the sake of his popular consort, Matilda of Boulogne, the Saxon citizens, when they heard that " the daughter of Molde, their good queen," claimed their homage, looked with reverence on her elder claim, and threw open their gates to receive her with every manifestation of affection. The first sentence addressed to them by this haughty claimant of the cro^vn of St. Edward, was the demand of an enormous subsidy. The citizens of London replied by inquiring after the great charter granted by her father. " Ye are very impudent to mention privileges and charters to me, when ye have just been supporting my enemies," was the gracious rejoin- der.^ Her wise and valiant brother, Robert of Gloucester, who stood by her side, immediately perceiving that the citizens of London were incensed at this intimation of their new sove- reign's intention to treat them as a conquered people, endea- voured to soothe their offended pride by a condhatory address, commencing, — "Ye citizens of London, who of olden time were called barons " Although the heroic Robert was a most complete and graceftd orator, his courteous language failed to atone to the Londoners for the arrogance of their new liege lady. Her uncle, king David, was present at tliis scene, and earnestly persuaded the empress to adopt a more popular line of conduct. u mere twisted fillet, such as we see beneath helmets and crests in heraldic blazonry. Tlie inscription, in Roman letters, is s • mathildis • DEI • GRATIA • KOMANORUM * REOiNA. The manner of sitting, and the arrangement of the drapery on the knees, resemble the portrait of the mother of the empress described ill her biography. J. 1'. i\lUu'i;»>a. MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 219 I but in vain.* After a strong discussion, the Londoners craved leave to retire to their hall of common council, in order to provide the subsidy. Meantime, the empress sai down to her midday meal in the banqueting-haU of the new palace at Westminster, in confident expectation that the civic authorities of London would soon approach to offer, on their knees, the bags of gold she had demanded.^ A dessert of a different kind awaited her, for at that momentous crisis a band of horsemen appeared on the other side of the river, and displayed the banner of Stephen's consort, Matilda of Boulogne. The bells of every church in London rang out a clamorous tocsin, and from every house rushed forth, as had doubtless been previously concerted, one champion at the least, and in many instances several, armed Avith whatever weapons were at hand, and saUied forth to do battle in defence of the rights and hberties of the city; "just," says the old chronicler, "like bees swarm- ing about the hive when it is attacked." The Norman and Angevin chevahers, under the command of the vaUant earl of Gloucester, found they stood Httle chance of withstanding this resolute muster of the London patriots in their own narrow crooked streets. They therefore hastened to provide for the safety of their domina. She rose ia haste from table, mounted her horse, and fled with her foreign retinue at ftdl speed ; and she had urgent cause for haste, for before she had well cleared the western suburb, the populace had burst into the palace, and were plundering her apartments.* The fugitives took the road to Oxford ; but before the haughty domina arrived there, her train had become so small with numerous desertions, that, with the exception of Robert of Gloucester, she entered it alone.* A strong reaction of popular feehng in favour of Stephen, or rather of Stephen's queen, followed this event. The counties of Kent and Surrey were already her own, and prepared to support her by force of arms; and the citizens of London jojduUy received her within their walls once more. Henry de Blois had been induced, more than once, to meet his royal ' Carruthers' Hist, of Scotland, p. 341. ' Thierry. Speed. Stowe. Lingard. 8 '1 ■, if ? 220 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. sister-in-law secretly at Guildford. Thither she brought the young prince, her son/ to assist her in moving his poweiful uncle to lend his aid in replacing her hubband on the throne. Henry de Blois, touched by the tears and entreaties of these interesting supplicants, and burning with rage at the insolent treatment he had received from the imperial vii'ago, M'liom Camden quaintly styles ' a niggish old wife,' solemnly promised the queen to forsake the cause of her rival. Immediately on his return to Winchester the prela:*^ fortified his castle, and having prepared all things for declaring himself in favour of his brother, he sent messengers to the queen, begging her to put herself at the head of the Kentishmen and Londoners, and march with her son, prince Eustace, to Winchester.* The empress Matilda and the earl of Gloucester having some intelligence of Henry de Blois' proceedings, advanced from Oxibrd, accompanied by David king of Scotland, at the head of an army, to overawe him. When they approached the walls of Winchester, the empress scut a herald to the legate, requesting a conference, as she had something of im- portance to communicate; but to this requisition Henry de Blois only rephed, " Paraho me"^ that is, " I will prepare myself;" and finding that the Norman i)arty in Winchester was at present too strong for him, he left the city, and retired to his strong castle in the suburbs, causing, at the same time, so unexpected an attack to be made on the empress, that sl\e had a hard race to gain the shelter of the royal citadel. " To comprise," says William of MaJmesbury, " a long scries of events within narrow limits, the roads on every side of Winclicster were watched by the queen, and the earls mIio had come with her, lest supphes should be brouglit in to tliosc who had sworn fidelity to the empress. Andover was binned, and the Londoners lumng assumed a martial attitude, lent all the assistance thc)'^ could to distress that princess."* Queen Matilda, with her ron and sir William Ypres, at the liead of the Londoners and the Kentishmen, wert; soon ai't(M' at the gates of Wnichester. The cmjn'css, now closely block- aded in her palace, had ample cause to repent of her vindictive ' Tyrrt'll. * JIuhr.CBbury. Uirvmso. " MuliiuHi'iiry. * llUl. JIATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 221 folly in rousing the energies of her royal cousin's spirit, by repulsing the humble boon she had craved in her despair. For nearly two months the most destructive warfare of famine, fire, and sword was carried on in the streets of Winchester ; till the empress Matilda, dreading the balls of fire which were nightly thrown from the legate's castle, and which had already destroyed upwards of twenty stately chm-ches and several monasteries, prevailed on her gallant brother to provide for her retreat. He and her uncle David cut a passage for her through the besiegers at the sword's point. She and her uncle David, king of Scotland, by dint of hard riding escaped to Lutgershall ; while the earl of Gloucester arrested the pursuit by battling with them by the way, till almost all his followers being slain, he was compelled to surrender after a desperate defence. This skirmish took place on the 14th of Sept. 1141. When the earl of Gloucester was presented by his captors to queen MatUda at Winchester, she was transported with joy, beholding in liim a security for her beloved consort's safety. She received him courteously, and exerted all her eloquence to persuade him to arrange an amicable treaty for the king's release, in exchange for himself. Gloucester replied, " That would not be a fair equivalent, for," said he, " twenty earls would not be of sufficient importance to ransom a king; how then, lady, can you expect that 1 should so far forget the interest of the empress, my sister, as to propose that she should exchange hiin for only one ?" Matilda then offered to restore him to all his forfeit honours, and even to bestow the government of the realm on liim, provided he would conchide a peace, securing England to Stephen, and Normandy to the empress, lint nothing could induce him to swerve in the slightest degree from what he considered his duty to his sister. The (juecn, fincUng she could not prevail on him to enter into any arrangement for the restoration of his liberty, then com- mitted him for safe custody to tl»e charge of William of Yprea; "and though she might have remembered," says William of Malnu'«bury, " that hor husbaml had been fettered by his command, yet she never suffered a bond of any kiiid to be put upon liim, HOF prcsumcd on her dignity to J I ; 222 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. If treat him dishonourably ; and finally, when he was conducted to Rochester, he went freely whenever he wished to the churches below the castle, and conversed with v/hom he pleased, the queen only being present. After her departure he was held in free custody in the keep ; and so calm and serene was his mind, that, receiving money from his vassals in Kent, he bought some valuable horses, which were both serviceable and beneficial to him hereafter."^ Tliis generous conduct of Matilda to the man who had done so much injury to her husband and her cause, is im- puted by William of Malmesbury to the dignity and merit of the valiant earl, his patron, " whose high bearing," he says, " impressed his enemies with such great respect, that it was impossible to treat him otherwise/" A less partial writer would have given the queen due praise for the magnanimity with which she acted, under circumstances that might well have justified the sternest reprisals for his harsh usage of her captive lord; but the fact spoke for itself, and won more hearts for the queen than the wealth of England and Nor- mandy combined could purchase for her. haughty namesake and rival. Meantime the empress, whose safe retreat to Lutj^crshall had been thus dearly purchased by the loss of her great general's liberty, being hotly pursued by the queen's troops to Devizes, only escaped their vigil.ince by personating a cor{)se, wrapped in grave-clothes, and being placed in a coffin, which was bound with cords, and bonie on the shoiUdcrs of some of her trusty partisans to Gloucester, the stronghold of her valiant brother, where she arrived, fiiint and wcaiy with long fsusting and mortal terror/' Her party was so dispirited by the loss of her approved counsi'llor and trusty champion, the carl of Gloucester, that 8ho was compelled to make some overtures to the queen, her cousin, for his release. But Matilda would hear of no other ternxs than the restoration of her captive husbaiul, kuig Stephen, in exchange for him. This thn cinprcss peremptorily rclused, * Williiiin of MBlTintri:i. • V=!'iwlijrnir» Nc-uwtriu. iiiiiuusburv. SiH.'t'd. Unpin. ' ticrvttsc. VOL. I. (4 226 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. i i li'll mandy with his son, the younger Geoffrey of Anjou. After three years of civil strife, dm'ing which the youthful Henry learned the science of arms under the auspices of his re- doubted uncle, the earl of Gloucester, Geofirey recalled his heir. Earl Robert of Gloucester accompanied his princely eleve to Wareham, where they parted,* never to meet again ; for the brave earl died of a fever at Gloucester, October 31, 1147, and was interred at Bristol. "With this great man and true-hearted brother died the hopes of the empress Matilda^s party for the present, and she soon after quitted England, having ahenated all her friends by the ungovernable violence of her temper, and her overweening haughtiness. The great secret of government consists, mainly, in an acciu*ate knowledge of the human heart, by which princes acquire tlie art of con- ciliating the affections of those around them, and, by graceftd condescensions, v^in the regard of the lower orders, of m hom the great body of the nation, emphatically called ' the people,' . composed. The German education and the self-sufl5ciency of the empress prevented her from considering the importance of these things, and, as a matter of course, she failed in ob- taining the great object for which she contended. " Away with her \" was the cry of the English population ; " we will not have this Norman Moman to reign over us/" Yet this unpopular claimant of the throne was the only sur- viving child and representative of their adored queen Matilda, the daughter of a Saxon princess, the descendant of the great Alfred. But the virtues of Matilda of Scotland, her holy spirit, and her graces of mind and manners had been in- herited, not by her daughter, (who was removed in her tender childhood from under the maternal influence,) but by her niece and name-child, Matilda of Boulogne, who had been educated under her auspices. The younger queen MatUda V as, however, not only one of the best, but one of the greatest women of the age in whicii she hved. So perfect was she in that most important of all royal accomplishments — the art of pletkiing, thai Jirt in which her haughty cousui the empress ' (^hronioli'H of Cluwtcr, n« citod hy Tyrrell. ' Tluerr\''H Anirlo-Normar Uktorv. ui MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 227 was entirely deficient, — ^that her winning influence was aclmow- ledged even by that diplomatic statesman-priest, Henry de Blois ; and she was of more effectual service in her husband's cause, than the swords of the foreign army which Stephen had rashly called to the support of his tottering throne. Stephen and Matilda kept their Christmas this year, 1147, at Lincoln, with uncommon splendour, for joy of the departure of their imwelcc ne kinswoman, the empress Matilda, and the re-estabUshment of the pubUc peace ; and so completely did Stephen consider himself a king again, that, in defiance of certain oracular denouncements of evU to any monarch of England who should venture to wear his crown in that city on Christmas-day, he attended mass in his royal robes and diadem, against the advice of his sagest counsellors, both temporal and spiritual.' WhUe at Luicoln, prince Eustace, the son of Stephen and Matdda, (then in his thirteenth year,) received the oath of fealty from such of the barons as could be pre- vailed upon to acknowledge him as the heir-apparent to the throne. Stephen and Matilda were desirous of his being crowned at Lincoln, in hopes of securing to him the right of succession, but the nobles would not consent. The mind of queen Matilda appears, during the year 1148, to have been chiefly directed to devrtional matters. It was in this year that she carried into execution her long-cherished design of founding and endowing the hospital and church of St. Katherine by the Tower,* for the repose of the souls of her deceased children, Baldwin and Maud. The ssime year queen MatUda, jointly with Stephen, founded the royal abbey of Feversham, in Kent, and personally superintended its erec- tion. For many months she resided in the nunnery of St. Austin's, Canterbury, to watch the progress of the work,^ it ' Oei-vawc, Spoo(l. ' Tliia royal institution, whioh umlor u;.< toHt<}ring protection of the queens of England hiw survived tlie full of every other monastic fouiulation of the olden times, has Ix'en transplanted to the lU'gent's-park, and all'ords a delij^htfid Hflyhun and ample maintenance for a limit«Hl number of thaso favoured ladies who, preferring a life of maiden meditation and ia(lejM'uden(u« to the care-worn paths of matrimony, are fortunate" enough to ohtaiii sisterships. A nun of St. Katherine may truly Ihj considered in a state of single blessedness. ' Stowo. q2 228 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. being her desire to be interred within that stately church, which she had planned with such noble taste. There is great probability that she was at this time in declining health, having gone through many sore trials and fatigues, both of mind and body, during the long protracted years o civil war. The care of this popular queen, that the humbler portion of her subjects should be provided with proper accommodation for their comfort during pubhc worship, caused her to found the noble church of St. Mary at Southampton, of which that faithful antiquary, Leland, gives the following quaint and characteristic particulars: — " There is a chapel of St. Nicholas, a poor and small thing, yet standing, at the east end of St. Marie^s church, in the great cemetery, where it is said the old parish church of Old Hampton stood. One told me there, that the littleness of this church was the cause of the erection of the great church of Our Ladye, now standing, by this occasion : one Matilde, queen of England, asked ' What it meant that a great number of people walked about the church of St. Nicholas T and one answered, ' It is for lack of room in the church/ Then she, ex veto, promised to make them a new, and this was the original of St. Marie church. This quecii Matilde, or some other good person following, thought to have this made a collegiate church, but this pm-pose succeed did not fully."' The repose of cloistered seclusion, and heavenward employ- ment in works of piety and benevolence, whereby the royal lyiatUda sought to charm away the excitement of the late fierce struggle in which she had been forced to take so active a part, were succeeded by fresh anxieties of a political nature, caused by the return of the yoimg Henry Fitz-Empress in the following year (1149), and by the evident intention of her uncle, David of Scotland, to support his claims. The king her husband, apprehending that an attack on the city of York M as meditated, flow to arms once more; on wliich Da^dd, after coiifeniiig knighthood on his youtliful kinsman, retired into Scotliuul, and prince Hem-y returned to Noniiaudy, not feeling lumsclf strong enough to bide the event of a battle ' Lcland'H Itinerary, vol. iii. ; second edition. i MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 229 mth Stephen at that period.' A brief interval of tranquiUity succeeded the departure of these invading kinsmen ; but queen Matilda lived not long to enjoy it. Worn out with cares and anxieties, this amiable princess 'losed her earthly pilgrimage at Heningham-castle in Essex, ihe mansion of Alberic de Vere, where she died of i fever, May 3rd, 1151, in the fifteenth year of her husbana s reign. Stephen was forty-seven years old at the time of this his irreparable loss; Matilda was probably about the same age, or a little younger. This lamented queen was interred in the newly erected abbey of Feversham, of which she had been so munificent a patroness, having endowed it with her own royal manor of Lillechurch, which she gave to Wilham of Ypres for his demesne of Feversham, the spot chosen by her as the site of this noble monastic estabhshment, which was dedicated to St. Savioiu", and fiUed with black monks of Cluny. The most valued of all the gifts presented by queen Matilda to her favourite abbey, was a portion of the holy cross, which had been sent by her illustrious uncle, Godfrey of Boulogne, from Jerusalem, and was, therefore, regarded as doubly precious, none but heretics presuming to doubt of its being ' vera crux.''^ " Here," says that indefatigable antiquary, Weever, " hes interred Maud, wife of king Stephen, the daughter of Eustace earl of Boulogne (brother of Godfrey and Baldwin, kings of Jerusalem) by Mary Athehng, (sl.ter to Matilda Athehng, Avife to Henry, her husband's piut-^cessor). She died at Ileningham-castle in Essex, the 3rd of May, 1151; Avhosc epitaph I found in a nameless manuscript. " Anno millcno C. quinquagenoque primo, Quo SUB non minuit, sed sibi nostra tulit, Mathildis felix conjux Stophaui quotpie Regis Occidit, insignis moribus et titulis ; Cultrix vera Dei, cultrix ct pauperici. Hie subuixa Deo, quo fi-uerotur eo. Femina si qua Polos consccndero qucque meretur, Angolicis nianibus diva ha'C Ik'gina tenetur." The monastic Latin of this inscription may be tluis rendered . " In tlie year one thousand one hundred and fifty-one, not to her own, but to our great loss, the happy MatUda, the wife of » llobert of Gloucester. * lloger Koveden. i 230 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. king Stephefi, died, ennobled by her virtues as by her titles. She was a true worshipper of God, and a real patroness of the poor. She hved submissive to God, that she might afterwards enjoy his presence. If ever woman deserved to be carried by the hands of angtlo to heaven, it was this holy que t?/^ Queen Matilda left three surviving children hy her mar- riage with Stephen: Eustace, William, and Mary. The eldest, prince Eustace, was, after her death, despatched by Stephen to the court of liis royal brother-in-law, Louis VII., to solicit his assistance in recovering the duchy of Normandy, which, on the death of Geoflfrey of Anjou, had reverted to Henry Fitz-Empress, the rightful heir. Louis, who had good reason for displeasure against Henry, re-invested Eustace with the duchy, and received his homage once more. Stephen "then, in the hope of securing this beloved son's succession to the Enghsh throne, endeavoured to prevail on the archbishop of Canterbury to crown him as the acknowledged heir of England. But neither the archbishop, nor any other prelate, could be induced to perform this ceremony, lest, as they said, " they should be the means of involving the kingdom once more in the horrors of civil war.'" According to some his- torians, Stephen t\ a^ so exasperated at this refusal, that he shut dl the bishc.s up in one house, declaring his intention to keep them ii, m usd tiU one or other of them yielded obedience to his will. The archbishop of Canterbury, however, suc- ceeded in making his escape to Normandy, and persuaded Henry Plantagenet, who, by his marriage with Eleanor duchess of Aquitaine, the divorced queen of France, had become a powerful prince, to try his fortune once more in England. Henry, who had now assumed the titles of duke of Nor- mandy and Aqidtaine, and count of Anjou, landed in England, January 1153, before preparations were made to oppose his victorious progress. He marched directly to the rehef of his mother's friends at Wallingford, and arrived at a time when Eustace was carrying on operations in the absence of the king his father, who had gone to London to procure fresh suppUes of men and money. Eustace maintained his position * Eanin. I MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 231 the widower of the ail i^e of the pause rt of Stephen's ad- g on the horrors of till the return of Stephen, when the hostile armies drew up in battle-array, with the intention of deciding the question between the rival claimants of the crown, at swords' points. An accidental circumstance prevented the deadly effusion of kindred blood from staining the snows of the wintry plain of Egilaw. " That day Stephen's hol^se," says Matthew Paris, " reared furiously thrice, as he advanced tr> the front to array his battle, and thrice fell with his lore -feet flat to the earth, and threw his royal rider. The nobles '^xclaimed it was a portent of evU, and the men vw '^^ sn. mg themselves;' on which the great WiUiam d- A late dowager -queen AdeUcia, i which this superstitious panic o. herents had created, to address tL civU war ; and reminding him of the weakness of his cause, and the justice of that of his opponent, implored him to avoid the slaughter of his subjects, by entering into an amicable arrangement with Henry Plantagenet." Stephen and Henry accordingly met for a personal con- ference in a meadow at Wallingford, with the river Thames flowing between their armies, and there settled the terms of pacification ; whereby Stephen was to enjoy the crown during his Ufe, on condition of solemnly guaranteeing the succession to Henry Plantagenet, to the exclusion of his own children.' Henry, on his part, swore to confirm to them the earldom of Boulogne, the inheritance of their mother, the late queen Matilda, and aU the personal property and possessions enjoyed by Stephen during the reign of his uncle, Henry I. After the treaty was ratified, WiUiam de Albini first afiixing his sign manual, as the head of the barons, by the style and title of WiUiam earl of Chichester,^ Stephen unbraced his armour in token of peace, and Henry saluted him as 'king,' adding the endearing name of ' father ;' and if Polydore Vf rgil and other chroniclers who relate this incident are to be beheved, not Avithout good reason. Of a more romantic character, however, is the circumstan- ' Henry of Huntinjjdon. Lord Lyttelton, Speed. Tierney's Arundel. • Tierney's Arundel. Matthew Paris. Speed, • Tierney's ArundeL ^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-S) // .^'.^ ^<' 1.0 J^KS I I.I 2.5 2.2 2.0 E 1.25 1.4 1.6 < 6" — ► Vi 0> A ^1%' / '/ Hiotographic Sciences Corpordtion 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WIKSTIRNY MSIO (716) i/a^sos 4f^ % 232 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. !>*" tial account of the cause of this pacification, as related by that courtly historian Matthew Paris, which, though he only men- tions it as a report, is of too remarkable a nature to be omitted here. We give the passage in his own words : " The empress, they say, who had rather have been Stephen's para- mour than his foe, when she saw him and her son arrayed agamst each other, and their armies ready to engage on Egilaw-Heath, caused king Stephen to be called aside, and coming boldly up to him, she said, ' What mischievous and unnatural thing go ye about to do ? Is it meet the father should destroy the son, or the son to kill the sire ? For the love of the most high God, fling down your weapons from your hands, sith that (as thou well knowest) he is indeed thine own son : for you well know how we twain were acquaint before I wedded Greoffrey !' The king knew her words to be sooth, and so came the peace."' No other historian records that the empress was in England at this period, much less that she was the author of the pacifi- cation. Lord Lyttelton, however, in his history of Henry II., says, " that at one of his interviews with Stephen, previous to the settlement of the succession on Henry, that prince is stated by an old author to have claimed the king for his father, on the confession of the empress, when she supposed herself to be on a death-bed.'' Rapin also mentions the report. That which lends most colour to the tale is the fact, that the empress Matilda's second son Geoffrey, on the death of his father, set up a claim to the earldom of Anjou, grounded on the supposed illegitimacy of prince Henry. The un- gracious youth even went so far as to obtain the testimony of the Angevin barons, who witnessed the last moments of the count his father, to the assertion " that the expiring Geoffrey, named him as the successor to his dominions, because he suspected his elder brother to be the son of Stephen.'" Prince Eustace was so much enraged at the manner in which liis interests had been compromised by the treaty of Wallingford, that he withdrew in a transport of indignation from the field ; and gathering together a sort of free company ' Miitthow ParU. ' Vita QauAredi do Normandi. / MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 233 ' of the malcontent adherents of his father's party, he marched towards Bury St. Edmund's, ravaging and laying mider con- tribution all the country through which he passed. The monks of Bury received him honourably, and offered to refresh his men; but he sternly rephed, "That he came not for meat but money," and demanded a subsidy, which being denied by the brethren of St. Edmund, — " they being unwil- ling," they said, " to be the means of raisii^ fresh civil wars, which fell heavily on aU peacefully disposed men, but heaviest of all on the clergy," — Eustace, reckless of all moral restraints, instantly plundered the monastery, and ordered all the com and other provisions belonging to these civil and hospitable ecclesiastics to be carried to his own castle, near the town; and "then sitting down to dinner in a frenzy of rage, the first morsel of meat he essayed to swallow choked him," says the chronicler who relates this act of wrong and violence. According to other historians, Eustace died of a brain fever on the 10th of August, 1153.' His body was conveyed to Feversham-abbey, and was interred by the side of his mother, queen Matilda. Eustace left no children by his wife^ Constance of France. WiUiam, the third son of Stephen and Matilda, inherited his mother's earldom of Boulogne, which, together with that of Mortagne, and all his father's private property, were secured to him by the treaty of Wallingford. He is mentioned in that treaty by name, as having done homage to Henry of Anjou and Normandy. Shortly afterwards, however, this prince, though of tender age, entered into a co)i8piracy with some of the Flemish mercenaries, to surprise the person of prince Henry on Barham-downs, as he was riding from Dover in company with the king. Stephen himself is not wholly clear from a suspicion of being concerned in this plot, which failed through an accident which befell prince WiUiam ; for just before the assault should have taken place, he was thrown by his mettlesome steed, and had the ill luck to break his leg. Henry, on receiving a secret hint of what was in agitation, took tlie opportunity of the confusion created by ' Spood. 234 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. William's fall to ride off at full speed to Canterbury, and soon after sailed for Normandy. It does not appear that he bore any ill-will against William de Blois for this treacherous design, as he afterwards knighted him, and confirmed to him his mother's earldom, and whatever was possessed by Stephen before his accession to the throne. This prince died in the year 1160, while attending Henry II. on his return home fix)m the siege of Thoulouse. The lady Marie de Blois, the only surviving daughter of Stephen and Matilda, took the veil, and was abbess of the royal nunnery of Romsey, in which her grandmother, Mary of Scotland, and her great aunt, Matilda the good queen, were educated. When her brother WiUiam count of Boulogne died without issue, the people of Boulogne, desiring to have her for their countess, Matthew, the brother of Phihp count of Flanders, stole her from her convent, and marrjdng her, became in her right count of Boulogne. She was his wife ten years, when, by sentence of the pope, she was divorced from him, and forced to return to her monastery. She had two daughters by this marriage, who were allowed to be legi- timate ; and Ida, the eldest, inherited the earldom of Boulogne, in right of her grandmother Matilda, Stephen's queen. Stephen died at Dover, of the iliac passion, October 26th, 1154, in the fifty-first year of his age, and the nineteenth of his reign. He was buried by the side is beloved queen Matilda, and their unfortunate son Eusiacs, in the abbey of Feversham. " His body rested here in quietness," says Stowe, " till the dissolution ; when, for the trifling gain of the lead in which it was lapped, it was taksn up, uncoffined, and plunged into the river, — so uncertain is man, yea, the greatest princes, of any rest in this world, even in the matter of burial." Honest old Speed, by way of conclusion to this quotation firom his brother chronicler, adds this anathema : " And restless may their bodies be also, who, for filthy lucre, thus deny the dead the quiet of their graves !" A noble monument of Stephen and Matilda still survives the storms and changes of the last seven centuries, — ^the ruins of Fumess-abbey. That choicest gem of the exquisite ecclesi- 19. , MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. 235 astical architecture of the twelfth century was founded, in conjugal unity of purpose, by them soon after their marriage, July 1st, 1127, when only earl and countess of Boulogne. On acquiring the superior rank and power of king and queen of England, they gave additional gifts and immunities to this abbey. The transferred brotherhood of St. Benedict, who were thus enabled by the munificence of the royal pair to plant a church and monastic establishment of unrivalled grandeur in the sequestered valley of Bekansgill, or the vale of ' the deadly nightshade,' as that spot was then called in Lancashire, were not occupied merely in singing and praying for the souls of their august founders and their children, although the customs of that age rendered the performance of these offices an indis- pensable obligation on the part of the community, in return for endowments of lands, but the real objects for which the monks of Pumess were rendered recipients of the bounty of Matilda and her lord were the civihzation and cultivation of the wildest district of England. Whatever evils might result in after ages from the abuses which a despotic theocracy introduced into their practice, the statistic benefits conferred by these English fathers of the desert on the coimtry were undeniable. They drained morasses, cleared jungles, — the haunts of wild beasts and robbers, and converted them into rich pastures and arable lands ; while they taught a barbarous and predatory population to provide honestly for the wants of hfe by the practice of agriculture and the various handicrafts which a progressive state of society renders necessary, and even instnicted those who possessed capabihties for higher pursuits, in the arts and sciences, which expand the intellect while they employ the mechanical powers of men. The extensive remains of Fumess-abbey, its clustered columns, glorious arches, elaborately wrought corbels, dehcate traceries, subhrae elevations, and harmonious proportions, tell their own tale, not only of the perfection to which architecture and sculpture were carried under the auspices of the accom- phshed Matilda of Boulogne, but of the employment afforded to numerous bands of workmen in various branches during the erection of such a fabric. Tlie busts of the royal founder and 236 MATILDA OF BOULOGNE. foundress still remain on either side the lofty chancel window. Noble works of art they are, fidl of life-like individuahty, and extremely characteristic of the persons they represent. Stephen is a model of manly beauty, with a bold and majestic aspect. They both wear their royal diadems. There is a chaste simpUcity truly classical in Matilda's attitude and costume. Her veil flows from beneath the royal circlet in graceful folds on either side her softly-moulded oval face. Her dress fits closely to her shape, and is ornamented in front with a muUet- shaped brooch. Her features are dehcate and feminine, her expression sweet and modest, yet indicative of conscious dignity, and sufficiently touched with melancholy to remind us of the thorns which beset her queenly garland, during her severe struggles to support the defective title of her consort to the sovereignty of England. The portrait of Matilda which illus- trates this biography is engraved from a drawing made expressly for that purpose fix)m the bust at Fumess-abbey which we have just described, being the only contemporary memorial which preserves to posterity an authentic representation of tliis most interesting queen and admirable woman. f,'')V / / l'..>:nliin. IIpiu'v CoHiuim:, )ij:'.l. l^LEA^OUA OF AQUITAI>^E, tiCEEN OF HEXfl^ U. C'^APTEU I, iU'nXii-y ■ ^. : ,-, r.. ,iSt. .v^i^M^ ■■-■«*;'■ hj-,i«»^t .J' Aiiw&jiiJi - -Brifsoi-.-'ivi ■■.-.i ■:-;'lk>*^ t^i rr".1<-;i» .*»V -^'■■^ <; a'*»'t>.t lAtr^.* '^i'fh^« vriifJi (jiiwu's unrle -• l!!uLWl•s.'t ',ijfif»^H'^:i^. '!^Ji(t-^,0t^y *i^ r*^i.>ct>*- iJs'T 4i(iit*¥''*---Tji«M.t« — liiiiu-y Hinry — JiuidVi^o*^ ''b.. ufpJio* ^ Sj».i*'«> - M-"? Ai^fT^Sji.* '.lisst>lv-.^l - l5iitti of ht?r ^on Kaiiitk'^t llt*ury to ,.»i-ii..'d at Westraoi.'-' til- vJostume — Bii-tli of priricv Heiu-y — Qneen presents r "T iufwits to the inimn^ — Death of her tldw-t »i)n — Her />>urt — Tragedy . 'ixl b^i'ire her — Ue? lusb^«'i Uif chiriWtiT ■■U-,«mutnil Lliscov.-n.il by the .,/j\H\ — Elwinorft's (;hiia of emjm'ss Maflkla's memoir — ;'.<;:!'Ivlii rej.'*!ut' of Nunrimdv - MMiutee j^'atij — lUes — Hor t.jinb---L'l.ninom \ rmau rcsft^.ut — She g'X'S V' A-iaitume. i!: :!F.DiTAR\' st3vereig»i <.f Aquitainc, by her hi!'; inamap'! 'tiii'cn of France, thou qiicci>-cuuftort of Henry II., and i'lih- sJHjiuutry reg-ont of hia rt^alnv.s — how many rc^ahnj.s (hniu.'» t)f Ufi\ Kleiuiom lirouglit aeqni- Mtious of moiH} inipoitmice to the Auglo-Nonnau peuple than '^ ■ -;. •,■■"1.' . ■ ^ w*^ ,% ■ ^ ^ ■ -',1. r ■ ..- . ' ,' ■ ■^■■■■•^s*^' ■■■'■ •#.. .'>*, .*? ;?-■•? 0,^1 K .*»■ ^ V ^ 1- ^■^-S% ■.^' ^ ;' :^'■<'^'s, '■ V '/ /. / // A /• ' , .fT » ^f*t.i^: '^'i^v. ■" . '''U^ A ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, QUEEN OF HENRY II. CHAPTER I. Provenfal queens — Country of Eleanora of Aquitaine — Her grandfather — Death of her father — Her great mheiitance — Marriage — Becomes queen of France — Beauty — She joins the crusaders — Her guard of Amazons — Eleanora and ladies encumber the army — Occasion defeat — Befttge with queen's uncle — Eleanora's coquetries — Returns to France — Her disgusts — ^Taunts — Henry Plantagenet — Scandals — Birth of infant princess — Eleanora falls in love with Henry — Jealousies — She apphes for ivorce — Her marriage dissolved — Returns to Aquitaine — Adventures on journey — Marries Henry Plantagenet — Birth of her son — Enables Henry to gain England — Henry's love for Rosamond — Returns to Eleanora — Succeeds to the English throne — Eleanora crowned at Westminster — Costume — Birth of prince Henry — Queen presents her infants to the barons — Death of her eldest son — Her court — Tragedy played before her — Her husband — His character — Rosamond discovered by the queen — Eleanora's children — Birth of prince Geoffrey — Eleanora regent of England — Goes to Normandy — Conclusion of empress Matilda's memoir — Matilda regent of Normandy — Mediates peace — Dies — Her tomb — Eleanora Norman regent — She goes to Aquitaine. Hereditary sovereign of Aquitaine, by her first marriage queen of France, theii jueen-consort of Henry II., and sub- sequently regent of his reabns, — ^how many regalities did Eleanora of Aquitaine imite in her own person! England, by means of the marriage of her king and Eleanora, formed a close alliance with the most pohshed and civihzed people on the face of the earth, as the Proven9als of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries undoubtedly were. With the arts, the ideahties, and the refinements of life, Eleanora brought acqui- sitions of more importance to the Anglo-Norman people than 238 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. even that "great Provence dower," on which Dante dwells with such earnestness. But before the sweet provinces of the South were united to England by the marriage of their heiress with the heir of the Conqueror, a varied tissue of incidents had chequered the life of the duchess of Aquitaine, and it is necessary to trace them before we can describe her conduct as queen of England. It would be in vain to search on a map for the dominions of Eleanora, rnider the title of dukedom of Aquitaine. In the eleventh century, the counties of Guienne and Gascony were erected into this dukedom, after the ancient kingdom of Pro- vence, estabhshed by a diet of Charlemagne,' had been dis- membered. Julius Cjesar calls the south of Gaul Aquitaine, from the numerous rivers and fine ports belonging to it ; and the poetical population of this district adopted the name for their dukedom from the classics. The language which prevailed all over the south of France was called Proven9al, from the kingdom of Provence ; and it formed a bond of national union among the numerous inde- pendent sovereigns under whose feudal sway this beautiful country was divided. Throughout the whole tract of country, from Navarre to the dominions of the dauphin of Auvergne, and from sea to sea, the Proven9al language was spoken, — a language which combmed the best points of French and Italian, and presented pecuhar facilities for poetical composi- tion. It was called the langue d'oc, sometimes langue d'oc et no, the tongue of *yes' and 'no/ because, instead of the oui and non of the rest of France, the affirmative and negative were oc and no. The ancestors of Eleanora were called par excellence the lords of 'Oc* and 'No.* WiUiam IX., her grandfather, was one of the earUest professors and most hberal patrons of the art. His poems were models of imitation for all the succeeding troubadours.'' The descendants of this minstrel hero were Eleanora and her sister PetronOla: they were the daughters of his son, WiUiam count de Poitou. WiUiam of Poitou was a pious ' Atlas Gcogi-apliique. ^ Sismondi's Literatxire of the Soutb. ; ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 239 a and son, pious outb. prince, which, together with his death in the Holy Land, caused his father^s subjects to call him St. William. The mother of this prince was the great heiress Phihppa' of Thou- louse, duchess of Guienne and Gascony, and countess of Thoulouse in her own right. Before Philippa married, her husband was William the seventh count of Poitou and Saint- ongej afterwards he called himself William IV. duke of Aquitaine. He invested his eldest son with the county of Poitou, who is termed William X. of Poitou. This prince, the father of Eleanora, did not Uve to inherit the united pro- vinces of Poitou and Aquitaine, which comprised nearly the whole of the south of France ; his wife, Eleanora of Chatel- herault, died in early life, in 1129. The father of Eleanora left Aquitaine in 1132, with his younger brother, Raymond of Poitou, who was chosen by the princes of the crusade that year to receive the hand of the heiress of Conrad prince of Antioch, and maintaui ihat bul- wark of the Holy Land against the assaults of pagans and infidels. William fell, aiding his brother in this arduous contest ; but Raymond succeeded in establishing himself as prince of Antioch. The rich inheritance of Thoulouse, part of the dower of the duchess Philippa, had been pawned for a sum of money to the count of St. Gilles, her cousin, which enabled her son to undertake the expense of the crusade led by Robert of Normandy. The count St. Gilles took posses- sion of Thoulouse, and withheld it, as a forfeited mortgage, from Eleanora, who finally inherited her grandmother^s rights to this lovely province. The grandfather of Eleanora had been gay, and even licen- tious, in his youth; and now, at the age of sixty-eight, he wished to devote some time, before his death, to penitence for the sins of his early life. WTien his grand-daughter had attained her fourteenth year, he commenced his career of self- denial, by simimoniug the baronage of Aquitaine and com- municating his intention of abdicating in favour of his grand- daughter, to whom they all took the oath of allegiance.'' He ' She is likewise called Matilda. — Rer. Script, de Franc ' Suger. Ordericus Vitalis. 240 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. then opened his great project of uniting Aquitaine with France, by giving Eleanora in marriage to the heir of Louis VI. The barons agreed to this proposal, on condition that the laws and customs of Aquitaine should be held inviolate, and that the consent of the young princess should be obtained. Eleanora had an interview with her suitor, and professed herself pleased with the arrangement. It was abbot Suger,* the wise premier of France, who had earnestly promoted the marriage of the crowned heir of his royal master Louis VI. with Eleanora of Aquitaine, in hopes of peacefully uniting the rich provinces of the South with the rest of the GaUic empire. According to the custom of the earher Capetian monarchs, the peers of France recognised the heir of France as their king just before the death of his royal sire. From thence the spouse of Eleanora was sumamed Louis le Jeune, to distinguish him from his father, as he was called Louis VII. while Louis VI. was not only in existence, but reigning. Suger, by the desire of the elder king Louis, who was de- clining in health, accompanied Louis le Jeune to Bourdeaux, in order that this important marriage might be solemnized as speedily as possible ; the heir of France was attended by his * This great minister being intimately connected with the ftiture destiny of Eleanora of Aquitaine, a sketch of his life is desirable for purposes of perspicuity. Suger was, according to his own account, the son of indigent peasants, dependent on the great abbey of St. Denis, near Paris. Being a promising child, he served at the ^tar a« acolyte, and showing great aptness for the partial education given to those servitors, he received ftirther instruction from his benefactor, abbot Adam, and finally became one of the most learned monks of the Benedictine order. Philippe I. king of France, although at mortal feud with the church, on account of its opposition to his tyrannical divorce from his queen Bertha, confided the education of his second son Louis to the Benedictines of St. Denis ; and here a firm iViendship was estabhshed lx?tween the sou of the king, luul Suger son of the serf. By a strange accident, the heir of Philipjic I. wos killed ut the chose, and the ft-iend of Sugt*r became Lotiis VI. king of France. Then he effecited, with the aid of his IHend abbot Suger, those remarkable reforms in church and state, which occasion historians to reckon his reign among those of the greatest monarchs of France. Suger educated Ijouis VII., and after his accession go- verned France as prime-minist<'r, and then as regent, and again as j)rime-minister. Suger, although an ecclesiastic, hml sufflcieut wisdom to moderate, rather than encourage, the tendency to ascetic bigotry in the charactt'r and conduct of the Inisbund of Eleanora of Aquitaine, his fuyal pupil uiid iiiitater, Louis VII. — Vis du Suger, par M. d'Auvigny. Vtu'u, l7iiU. ^ ELEANORA OP AQUTTAINE. 241 -Vis two kinsmen, the warlike prince of "^^ermandois, and Thibaut the poet, count of Champagne. Louis and Eleanora were immediately married, with great pomp, at Bourdeaux ; and, on the solemn resignation of duke William, the youthful pair were crowned duke and duchess of Aquitaine, August 1, 1137. On the conclusion of this grand ceremony, duke William,' grandsire of the bride, laid down his robes and insignia of sovereignty, and took up the hermit's cowl and staff. He departed on a pilgrimage to St. James's of ComposteUa in Spain, and died soon after, very penitent, in one of the cells of that rocky wildemess." At the time when duke William resigned the dominions of the South to his grand-daughter, he was the most powerful ^ rince in Europe. His rich ports of Bourdeaux and Saintonge supplied him with commercial wealth ; his maritime power was immense ; his i.\turt was the focus of learning and luxury; and it must be owned that, at the accession of the fair Eleanora, this court had become not a httle hcentious. Louis and his bride obtained immediate possession of Foitou, Gascony, Biscay, and a large territory extending beyond the Pyrenees. The very day of the threefold solemnity of this abdication, and of the marriage and coronation of EkiUiora, the news arrived that the reigning sovereign of France was struck by death, and that Louis and his young bride would be actually king and queen of France before the important day * Montaiprnc, who Bpeaks from his own local traditions of the South, asserts that duko William lived in his hermitage at Montserrat ten or twelve years, wearing, oa a ])euahce for his youtliftil sins, his armour xmder his hernnt's weeds. It is said by others, that ho died as a licrmit in a gn)tto at Florence, after having macerated his Ixxly by tremendous penances, and e8tablishcaringN, and a war-cry whose origin has not • little ]x>rplex(Hl the readers of English history. The jjatron saint of England, St. George, was adopted from the Aquitaine dukes, as we find, from the MS. of the French herald, Gilles de IJonnier, that the duke of Aquitaine's mol, or war* cry, was "St. Georgt; for the puissant duke." His crest was a leojjanl, and his desMnuUints in England bore leojmrds on their shields till atltT the time of Edward i. Edwanl III. is ealK-d 'valiant pard' in hib ipitajihs; and the emperor of Germany sent Henry III. a present of thn>e leopanls, exprossljf saying they wore iu ooraplimont and allusion tu his armuriiU bearings. VOL. I. H 243 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. of August 1, 1137, came to a close. The bride and bride- groom were urged by the minister, Suger, to set off for Paris. They accordingly commenced their journey from Bourdeaux with aU their court ; they passed through Orleans, and calmed some ^meutes of the French people on the road.' The death of the reigning king, Louis VI., is usually dated August 1st ; but that was, in aU probability, the day on which, simul- taneously with his contemporary, duke Wilham of Aquitaine, he laid down his royal power in favour of his successor. Louis VI. had, however, but a few days to hve : it is expressly declared that he was alive at the time when the royal bride and bridegroom arrived at the abbey of St. Denis. Here they were admitted to the death-bed of this great sovereign, who addressed them in these memorable words : " Remember I royalty is a pubUc trust, for the exercise of which a rigorous account will be exacted by Him who has the sole disposal of crowns and sceptres." So spoke the great legislator of France to the youthM pair, whose wedlock had united the north and south of France. On the conscientious mind of Louis VII. the words of his dying father were strongly im- pressed, but it was late in life before his thoughtless partner profited by them. Louis VII. and queen Eleanora made a most magnificent entry into Paris from St. Denis, after the fimeral rites of Louis VI. were performed. Probably the practice kept up by the new-married queens of France, of always making a pubhc entry from St. Denis into the capital, originated at this important crisis. The influence the young queen soon acquired, speedily plunged her husband and France into bloody wars. She insisted on her relative, Raymond count of Thoulouse, being forced to acknowledge her sovereignty over that province. Tlie prime-minister of IVance, Suger, examined into the justice of her claims, and then informed her that her kinsman had fully proved that he held 'a good bill of sale' for Thoulouse. Suger therefore advised his royal master not to interfere ; as, if the justice of the case had been on the side of queen Eleanora, it was unwise to incur the expense of a ' Vio de Sugt;r. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 243 war at the commencement of a new reign. Eleanora^ how- ever, v^ailed with her royal lord : the war was undertaken, and 1. .;/ed unsuccessful. Eleanora was very beautiful ; she had been reared in all the accomphshments of the South ; she was a fine musician, and composed and sang the chansons and tensons of Proven9al poetry. Her native troubadours expressly inform us that she could both read and write. The govenmient of her dominions was in her own hands, and she frequently resided in her native capital of Bourdeaux. She was perfectly adored by her southern subjects, who always welcomed her with joy, and bitterly mourned her absence when she was obliged to return to her court at Paris, — a court whose morals were severe ; where the rigid rule of St. Bernard was observed by the king her husband, as if his palace had been a convent. Far different was the rule of Eleanora in the cities of the South. The pohtical sovereignty of her native dominions was not the only authority exercised by Eleanora in ' gay Guienne.* She was, by hereditary right, chief reviewer and critic of the poets of Provence. At certain festivals held by her, after the custom of her ancestors,' called Courts of Love, all new sirventes and chansons were smig or recited before her by the troubadours. She then, assisted by a conclave of her ladies, sat in judgment, and pronounced sentence on their literary merits. She was herself a popular troubadour poet. Her chansons were remembered long after death had raised a barrier against flattery, and she is reckoned among the authors of France." The decisions of the young duchess-queen in her troubadour Courts of Love, have met with the reprobation of modem French historians,' on account of their immorality ; they charge her with avowing the startling opinion, that no true love could exist between married persons; and it is certain, that the encouragement she gave to her sister Petro- nilla* and the count Raoul of Vermandois, offered too soon a practical illustration of these evil principles. ' Sismondi. ' NostnwlHinun. History of l*rovonoe. Du Chesne. • MJoliolet, Hintory of France. * Tliis younjy princow is chIUhI Alico and IVnidlo, as woll as IVtronillu. Ono of thosti nanios wait hur jKX'ticul (>o^nnnK>n, by which her native poet«, tho r2 244 JJLEANORA OF AQUITAINE. The amusements of queen Eleanora seemed little suited to the austere habits of Louis VII. ; yet she had the power of influencing him to commit the only act of wilful injustice which stains the annals of his reign. PetroniUa had made acquaintance with Eaoul count of Vermandois at the mag- nificent festival at Bom-deaux, which comprised her royal sister's marriage and coronation. The beauty of PetroniUa equalled that of queen Eleanora^ but the young princess carried into practice her sister's avowed principles, and seduced Raoul of Vermandois from his wife. This prince had married a sister of the coimt of Champagne, whom he divorced for some frivolous pretext, and married, by queen Eleanora's conni- vance, PetroniUa. The count of Champagne laid his sister's wrongs before the pope, who commanded Vermandois to put away PetroniUa, and to take back the injured sister of Champagne. Queen Eleanora, enraged at the dishonour of PetroniUa, prevaUed on her husband to punish the count of Champagne for his interference. Louis VII., who already had cause of offence against the coimt, invaded Champagne at the head of a large army, and began a devastating war, in the course of which a most dreadful occurrence happened at the storming of Vitry : the cathedral, wherein thirteen hun- dred persons had taken refuge, was burnt, and the poor people perished miserably. Abb^ Suger, having in the question of the Thoulouse war experienced the evil influence of the young queen, had resigned his administration, and retired to his abbey of St. Denis ; there he superintended the building of that beautiful structure, which is stiU the admiration of Europe. But when the dreadful slaughter at Vitry took place, Suger was roused by the reproofs of his friend St. Bernard, who declared him to be responsible for all the iD, since Louis VII. liad previously always acted by his advice. Suger in vain pleaded that his king had now a bosom counseUor, vrho pri- vately traversed his best advice j that he had striven against her influence to the verge of hostihty with his king, and tmubadoun, cclebnitod her, Tho countcHs of Thoulouso, pfrondinotluT of tliis frail dfliiisol, liiul likewise two naiiioH. neither of them cosiventiial or Miintly appt'llutions, although she aought retirement in li eonvont aft«r being divorcud. ■; ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 245 :lu>r of bciug had retired, when he found he could do no good, to his duties as abbot, leaving the giddy Eleanora to reap the finit she had planted.' It was at this juncture that St. Bernard preached the crusade at Vezalai, in Burgundy. King Louis and queen Eleanora, with all their court, came to hear the eloquent saint ; and such crowds attended the royal auditors, that St. Bernard was forced to prepch in the market-place, for no cathedral, how- ever large, could contain them. St. Bernard touched with so much eloquence on the murderous conflagration at Vitry, that the heart of the pious king Louis, full of penitence for the sad effects of his destructiveness on his own subjects, resolved to atone for it to the God of mercy, by carrying sword and fire to destroy thousands of his fellow-creatures, who had neither offended him, nor even heard of him. His queen, whose in- fluence had led to the misdeed at Vitry, likewise became penitent, and as sovereign of Aquitaine vowed to accompany her lord to the Holy Land, and lead the forces of the South to the relief of the Christian kingdom of Jerusalem. The wise and excellent Suger endeavoured to prevail on his royal master to relinquish his mad expedition to Syria, assuring him that it would bring ruin on his country ; he entreated him to stay and govern his dominions, and if the crusade must be undertaken, to permit the hot-headed young nobUity to lead their vassals to the East without him. But the fanaticism of the king was proof against such persuasions : moreover, the romantic idea of becoming a female crusader had got into the light head of Eleanora his queen. Louis was dubious whether to take liis queen on this expedition ; but as Suger was to be left regent of France during the crusade, he persuaded his royal master not to oppose her inclinations.'' Nor can it excite wonder that, if Louis VII. would go crusading against all reasonable advice, his wise prime-minister should wish him to take his troublesome partner in regality with him. Eleanora was sovereign of the South, with aU its riches and maritime power; and when the specimens she had already given of her impracticable conduct are remembered, it will be allowed that ' Vie de Suger. * Ibid. • ' 246 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. i! small chance had chancellor Suger's regency of peace and quiet, if the queen remained at home. When queen Eleanora received the cross from St. Bernard, at Vezalai, she directly put on the dress of an Amazon ; and her ladies, all actuated by the same firenzy, mounted on horse- back, and forming a lightly armed squadron, surrounded the queen when she appeared in pubUc, caUing themselves queen Eleanora*s body-guard. They practised Amazonian exercises, and performed a thousand follies in pubhc, to animate their zeal as practical crusaders. By the suggestion of their young queen, this band of mad-women sent their useless distaffs, as presents, to all the knights and nobles who had the good sense to keep out of the crusading expedition. This ingenious taunt had the effect of shaming many wise men out of their better resolutions ; and to such a degree was this mania of the crusade carried, that, as St. Bernard himself owns, whole villages were deserted by their male inhabitants, and the land left to be tilled by women and children. It was on the Whit-Sunday of 1147 that, all matters being ready for marching to the south of France, Louis VII. received the oriflamme* from the hands of the pope himself at the abbey of St. Denis, and set forward after the Whit-hoHdays on his ill-advised expedition. Such fellow-soldiers as queen Eleanora and her Amazons would have been quite sufficient to disconcert the plans and impede the projects of Hannibal himself; and though king Louis con- ducted himself with great ability and courage in his difficult enterprise, no prudence could counteract the misfortune of being encumbered with an army of fantastic women. King Louis, following the course of the emperor Conrad, whose army, roused by the eloquence of St. Bernard, had just pre- ceded them, sailed up the Bosphorus, and landed in Thrace. The freaks of queen Eleanora and her female warriors were ' The place of this standard, co celebrated in the history of France, is over the high altar of St. Denis, where its representative hongs now, or at least it did in the summer of 1844, then seen by the authors of this work. An older oriflamme, which is supposed to he coeval with the days of our Henry VI., is shown in the treasury of St. Denis : the colour is, or hiw been, a bright red, the texture shot with gold. It is a horizontal flng, wedge-shnped, but cut into r ■wallow-tail at the end. It apjH-ars to have hung on a cross-bar at the top of the flag-stafr, and has rings to be attached at the broad end. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 247 lace and Bernard, Qn; and n horse- ided the 58 queen xercises, ite their r young staffs, as od sense us taunt It better crusade jes were ft to be inday of le south e hands forward Such would impede lis con- difficult ;une of King whose Lst pre- race. rs were e, is over i8t it did i^n older y VI., is red, the it into R 10 top of the cause of all the misfortunes that befell king Louis and his army, especially in the defeat at Laodicea.^ The king had sent forward the queen and her ladies, escorted by his choicest troops, under the guard of count Maurienne. He charged them to choose for their camp the arid but commanding ground which gave them a view over the defiles of the valley of Laodicea. While this detachment was encamping, he, at the distance of five miles, brought up the rear and baggage, ever and anon turning to battle bravely with the skirmishing Arab cavalry, who were harassing his march. Queen Eleanora acted in direct opposition to his rational directions. She in- sisted on her detachment of the army halting in a lovely romantic valley, full of verdant grass and gushing fountains. The king was encumbered by the immense baggage which, William of Tyre declares, the female warriors of queen Eleanora persisted in retaining in the camp at all risks. Darkness began to fall as the king of France appro&ohed the entrance to the valley ; and, to his consternation, he found the heights above it unoccupied by the advanced body of his troops. Neither the queen nor her forces being encamped there, he was forced to enter the valley in search of her, and was soon after attacked from the heights by swarms of Arabs, who engaged him in the passes among the rocks, close to the fatal spot where the emperor Conrad and his heavy horse had been discomfited but a few weeks before. King Louis, sorely pressed in one part of this miu'derous engagement, only saved his life by climbing a tree, whence he defended himself mth the most desperate valour.'' At length, by efforts of personal heroism, he succeeded in placing himself between the detachment of his ladies and the Saracens. But it was not till the dawn of day that he dis- covered his advanced troops, encamped in the romantic valley chosen by his poetical queen. Seven thousand of the flower of French chivalry paid with their lives the penalty of their queen's inexperience in warlike tactics ; all the provision was cut off; the baggage containing the fine array of the lady- warriors, which had proved such an encumbrance to the king, * William of Tyre and Super, an qnoted in OifTttrd's History of France. a WUUam of Tyre. 248 ELEANORA OP AQUITAINE. i was plundered by the Arabs and Saracens ; and the whole army was reduced to great distress. Fortunately Antioch was near, whose prince was the uncle of the crusading queen of France. Prince Raymond opened his friendly gates to the distressed warriors of the cross, and by the beautiful streams of the Orontes the defeated French army rested and refreshed them- selves after their recent disasters. Raymond of Poitou was brother to the queen's father, the saintly WilHam of Poitou. There was, however, nothing of the saint in the disposition of Raymond, who was still young, and was the handsomest man of his time. The uncle and niece, who had never met before, were much charmed with each other. It seems strange, that the man who first awakened the jealousy of king Louis should stand in such very near relationship to his wife; yet it is certain, that as soon as queen Eleanora had recovered her beauty, somewhat sulhed by the hardships she endured in the camp, she com- menced such a series of coquetries with her handsome uncle, that kiug Louis, greatly scandalized and incensed, hurried her out of Antioch one night, and decamped to Jerusalem, with sUght leave-taking of Raymond, or none at all. It is true, many authorities say that Raymond's intrigues with his niece were wholly pohtical, and that he was persuading Eleanora to employ her power, as duchess of Aquitaine, for the extension of his dominions, and his own private advantage. It was at Antioch that Eleanora first declared " that she would not hve as the wife of a man whom she had discovered was her cousin, too near by the ordinance of the church."* The Chronicle of Tours accuses her of receiving presents from Saladin, and this accusation was doubtless some recognition of her power as queen-regnant of the south of France. Eleanora, having taken the cross as an independent- sovereign, of course was treated as such by the oriental powers. Eleanora was enraged at her sudden removal from Antioch, which took place early in the spring of 1 149 : she entered the holy city in a most indignant mood. Jerusalem, the object of the ardent enthusiasm of every other crusader, raised no rehgious ^ GuillauQie do Naiigis' Chronicle, quoted by Michclot. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 249 ardour in her breast ; she was burning with resentment at the unaccustomed harshness king Louis exercised towards her. In Jerusalem, king Baldwin received Eleanora with the honours due both to her rank as queen of France, and her power as a sovereign-ally of the crusading league ; but nothing could please her. It is not certain whether her imeasiness proceeded from a consciousness of gmlt, or indignation at being the object of unfounded suspicions; but it is indisputable that, after her forced departure from Antioch, all aflfection between Eleanora and her husband was at an end. While the emperor of Ger- many and the king of France laid an unsuccessful siege to Damascus, Eleanora was detained at Jerusalem, in something hke personal restraint. The great abihties of Sultan Noureddin rendered this siege unavailing, and Louis was glad to withdraw, with the wreck of his army, from Asia. There are letters' still extant from Suger, by which it appears that the king had written to him complaints of the criminal attachment of his queen to a young Saracen emir of great beauty, named Sal-Addin. For this misconduct the king of France expressed his intention of dis- gracing her, and putting her away as soon as he arrived in his dominions, but was dissuaded from this resolution by the sug- gestions of his sagacious minister, who pointed out to him the troubles which would accrue to France by the relinquishment of the " great Provence dower,'* and that his daughter, the princess Marie, would be deprived, in all probabiUty, of her mother's rich inheritance, if the queen were at liberty to marry again. This remonstrance so far prevailed on Louis, that he permitted his discontented spouse to accompany him to Paris, November 1149. The royal pair made a solemn entry into the capital on their return from the crusade, with as much triumphant pomp as if they had gained great victo- ries during an absence of two years and four months, instead of having passed their time in a series of defeats and disasters, Suger then resigned his regency to the king, mth much more pleasure, as he said, than he took it. He had governed - In the collection of Du Chcsne, which has furnished much of the iuformatiou in this narrativo. 250 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. I II France in a manner which obtained from the king and people the appellation of "father of his country."' The dread that Suger felt at the separation of Eleanora's southern provinces was the reason why the king continued to Hve with her, and allowed her to retain the dignity of queen of France. Queen Eleanora therefore resided at Paris, with all her usual state and dignity : she was, however, closely watched, and not permitted to visit her southern dominions, — a prohibition which greatly disauieted her. She made many complaints of the gloom of the northern GaUic capital, and the monkish manners of her devout husband. She was particularly indignant at the plain and unostentatious clothing of king Louis, who had likewise displeased her by sacrificing, at the suggestion of the clergy, all his long curls, besides shaving off his beard and moustaches. The giddy queen made a constant mockery of her husband's appearance, and vowed that his smooth face made him look more like a cloistered priest than a valiant king. Thus two years passed away in mutual discontent, till, in the year 1150, Geoffrey Plantagenet, count of Anjou,* appeared at the court of Louis VII. Geoffrey did homage for Normandy, and pre- sented to Louis Ids son, yoimg Henry Plantagenet, sumamed Fitz-Empress. This youth was about seventeen, and was then first seen by queen Eleanora. But the scandalous chroniclers of the day declare th^ queen was much taken by the fine person and literary attainments of Geoffrey, who was consi- dered the most accomphshed knight of this time. Geoffrey was a married man ; but queen Eleanora as Httle regarded the marriage engagements of the persons on whom she bestowed her attention, as she did her own conjugal ties. About eighteen months after the departure of the Angevin princes, the queen of France gave birth to another princess, named Alice. Soon after this event, Henry Plantagenet once more visited Paris, to do homage for Normandy and Anjou, a pleuritic fever having suddenly carried off his father. Queen Eleanora now transferred her former partiality for the father to the son, who had become a noble, martial-looking prince, fiiU of energy, learned, valiant, and enterprising, and ready to ' Vie de Suger. ' Vie de Qaufred, Due do Normand. !'L ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 251 undertake any conquest, whether of the heart of the gay queen of the South, or of the kingdom from which he had been unjustly disinherited. Eleanora acted with her usual dis- gusting levity in the advances she made to this youth. Her beauty was still unimpaired, though her character was in low esteem with the world. Motives of interest induced Henry to feign a return to the passion of queen Eleanora: his mother's cause was hopeless in England, and Eleanora assured him that, if she could effect a divorce from Louis, her ships and treasures should be at his command for the subjugation of king Stephen. The intimacy between Henry and Eltonora soon awakened the displeasure of the king of France, consequently the prince departed for Anjou. Queen Eleanora immediately made an application for a divorce, under the plea that king Louis was her fourth cousin. It does not appear that he opposed this sepa- ration, though it certainly originated from the queen. Notwith- standing the advice of Suger, Louis seems to have accorded heartily with the proposition, and the divorce was finally pro- nounced by a council of the church at Baugenci,* March 18, 1152 ; where the marriage was not dissolved on account of the queen's adultery, as is commonly asserted, but declared invahd because of consanguinity. Eleanora and Louis, with most of their relations, met at Baugenci, and were present when the divorce was pronounced.' Suger, who had so long opposed the separation of Eleanora from his king, died a few days before that event took place.' It is useless for modem historians either to blame or praise Louis VII. for his scrupulous honesty in restoring to Eleanora her patrimonial dominions j he restored nothing that he was able to keep, excepting her person, "When the divorce was first agitated, Louis VII. tried the experiment of seizing several of the strongholds in Guienne, but found the power of the South was too strong for him. Giffard, who never wrote a line without the guide of contemporary chronicles, has made it fully apparent that the queen of the South was a stronger Sir Harris Nicolas* Chronology of History. s Bouquet des Histoircs. ' Vie de Suger. 253 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. potentate than the king of the North. If the lady of ' Oc* Hii^ ' No,' and the lord of ' Oui ' and ' Non,' had tried for the ' istery by ff)rce of arms, the civilized, the warlike, and , iritime ProvrTK^ais would certainly have raised the banner of Si. Oeorgf? and the golden leopards far above the oriflamme of Fi'ance, and rejoiced at having such fair cause of quarrel with their suzerain as the rescue of their princess. Moreover, Louis could not detain Eleanora, without defying the decree of the pope. On her way southward to her own country,* Eleanora remained some time at Blois. The count of this province was Thibaut, elder brother to king Stephen, one of the handsomest and bravest men of his time. Much captivated with the splendour of " the great Provence dower," Thibaut cflFerci ! is hand to his fair guest. He met with a refusal, which oy no means turned him from his purpose, as he resolved to detain the lady, a prisoner in his fortress, till she compHed with his proposal. Eleanora suspected his design, and departed by night, without the ceremony of leave-taldng. She embarked on the Loire, and went down the stream to Tours, which was then belonging to the dominions of Anjou. Here her good luck, or dexterous management, brought her off clear from aajther mal-adventure. Young Geoflrey Plantagenet, the next brother to the man she intended to marry, had likewise a great inclination to be sovereign of the South. He placed himself in ambush at a part of the Loire called 'the Port of Piles,' with the intention of seizing the duchess and her train, and carrying her off, and marrying her. " But," says the chronicler, " Eleanora was pre- warned by her good angel, and she suddenly turned down a branch of the stream southwards, towards her own couri rv /' Thither Henry Plantagenet, the elder brother of Geoff?', , ed, to . lUim the hand which had been promised Iuxxa months before the divorce. The celerity with which the marriage of Eleanora followed her divorce astonished all Europe, for she gave her " and to Henry Plantagenet, duke of Normandy and count of - ov^Y six weeks after the divorce was pronoimced. /. ' Script. Rer. Fraiiu ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 253 Eleanora is supposed to have been in her thirty-second year, and the bridegroom in his twentieth, — a disparity somewhat ominous, in regard to their future matrimonial felicity. The duchess of \quitainc and the duke of Normandy were married at Bourdeaux' on May-day, with all the pomp that the luxurious ta te of Eleaaora, aided by Provenyal wealth, could effect. If Henry and Eleanora could have been married a few months earlier, it w ould have been bettor for the repu- tation of the bride, since all chroniclers are very positive in fixing the birth of her eldest son, William,* on the 17th of August, 1152, little more than four months after their union on the first of May. The birth of this boy accounts for the haste with which Eleanora was divorced. Had king Louis detained his unfaithful wife, a dispute might have arisen respecting the succession to the crown of France. This child was born in Normandy, whither Henry conveyed Eleanora directly after their marriage, leaving the garrisons of Aquitaine commanded by Norman officers faithful to his interest; a step which was the commencement of his unpopularity in his wife's dominions. Louis VII. was much displeased at the marriage of his divorced queen with Henry of Anjou. He viewed with uneasiness the union of the fair provinces of the South with Anjou and Normandy; and, in order to invalidate it, he actually forbade Henry to marry without his permission, claiming that authority as his feudal lord. His measures, we think, ought to acquit king Louis of the charge of too much righteousness in his political dealings, for which he is blamed by the super- ficial Voltaire. However, the hostility of Louis, who entered into a league with king Stephen, roused young H> nry from the pleasures in which he was spending the first year of his nuptials; and breaking from his wedded Circe, he jbtained, from her fondness, a fleet for the enforcement of his claims to his rightful inheritance, Eleanora was sovereign of a wealthy ' Gervase. Brompton. * Toone's Chronological History gives this date : it is supported hy Sandford and Speed from chronicles, and the assertion of llohert of Gloucester i i the fol- w much, as me weened.^ -" Henry waa ae^iuiiufc with the queen of France some deal too 254 ELEANORA OF AQUITAENE. w maritime coimtry, whose ships were equally used for war and commerce. Leaving his wife and son in Normandy, Henry embarked from Harfleur with thirty-six ships, May 1153. "Without the aid of this Proven9al fleet, England would never have reckoned the name of Plantagenet among her royal dynasties. These circumstances are alluded to, with some dry humour, in the foUowing lines by Robert of Gloucester : — " In eleven hundred years of grace and forty-one. Died Geoflry of Pliuitagenet, the earl of Anjou. Henry his son and heir, earl was made thorough All Anjou, and duke of Normand : — much it was his mind To come and win England, for he was next of kind, Pcin] And to help his moder, who was ofb in feeble chance. But he was much acquaint with the queen of France, Some deal too much, as me weened ; so that in some thing The queen loved him, as me trowed, more than her lord the king j So that it was forth put that the king and she So sibbe were, that they must no longer together be. The kindred was proved so near, that king Louis there And Eleanor his queen by the pope departed were. Some were glad enow, as might be truly seen. For Henry the empresd' son forthwith espoused the queen. ITie queen riches enow had under her hand, Wliich helped Henry then to war on England. In the eleventh hundred year and flfky-two After God on earth came, this spousing was ado ; The next year after that, Henry his power nom, [took! And with six-and-tlurty ships to England com." There is reason to believe that at this period Henry seduced the heart and won the aflFections of the beautiful Rosamond Chfford, under the promise of marriage, as the birth of her eldest sou corresponds with Henry's visit to England at this time; for he left England the year before Stephen's death, 1153.* Henry was busy laying siege to the castle of one of his rebels in Normandy when the news of Stephen's death reached him. Six weeks elapsed before he sailed to take pos- session of his kingdom. His queen and infant son accom- panied him. They waited a month at Barfleur for a favour- able wind,' and after all tlicy had a dangerous passage, but landed satdy at Osterhani, December 8. The king nnd qucci> waited at the port for some days, while the fleet, dispei'scd hj ' His proceedings in Englan'l have btHim detailed in the proueiling biogruphj ' liruniptou. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 255 the wind, collected. They then went to Winchester/ where they received the homage of the southern barons. Theobald archbishop of Canterbury, and some of the chief nobles, came to hasten their appearance in London, " where Henry was," say the Saxon chroniclers, " received with great honour and worship, and blessed to king the Simday before Midwinter- day." Eleanora and Henry were crowned in Westminster- abbey, December 19, 1154, " after England," to use the words of Henry of Himtingdon, " had been without a king for six weeks." Henry's security, during this interval, was owing to the powerful fleet of his queen, which commanded the seas between Normandy and England, and kept all rebels in awe. The coronation of the king of England and the luxurious lady of the South was without parallel for magnificence. Here were seen in profusion mantles of silk and brocade, of a new fashion and splendid texture, brought by queen Eleanora'' from Constantinople. In the illuminated portraits of this queen she wears a wimple, or close coif, with a circlet of gems put over it ; her kirtle, or close gown, has tight sleeves, and fastens with f\dl gathers just below the throat, confined with a rich collar of gems. Over this is worn the elegant pehsson, or outer robe, bordered with fur, with very full loose sleeves lined with erriine, showing gracefully the tight kirtle sleeves beneath. In some portraits the queen is seen with her hair braided, and closely wound roimd the head with jewelled bands. Over all was thrown a square of fine lawn or gauze, which supplied the place of a veil, and was worn precisely hke the faziola, still the national costume of the lower orders of Venice. Some- times this coverchief, or kerchief, was drawn over the features down below the chin ; it thus supphed the place of veil and bonnet, when abroad ; sometimes it descended but to the brow, just as the wcurer was disposed to show or conceal her face. Frequently the coverchief Avas confined, by the bandeau, or circlet, being placed on the head, ovei it. Girls before marriage wore their hair in ringlets or tresses on their ■ Sir Harris Ni(H»iii8' (Jhronolnjjy of History. • It. i« Mnid hIio introthiccd the jfrowth of silk in her soutliurn doniinioiu, a bcnetit attributud to Henry the Oii^ut. 256 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. I shoulders. The church was very earnest in preaching against the pubHc display of ladies' hair after marriage. The long hair of the men likewise drew down the constant fulminations of the church ; but after Henry I. had cut off his curls, and forbidden long hair at court, his courtiers adopted periwigs j indeed, if we may judge by the queer effigy on his coins, the handsome Stephen himself wore a wig. Be this as it may, the thunder of the pulpit was instantly levelled at wigs, which were forbidden by a sumptuary law of king Henry. Henry II. made his appearance, at his coronation, with short hair, moustaches, and shaven chin ; he wore a doublet, and short Angevin cloak, which immediately gained for him from his subjects, Norman and English, the sobriquet of * Court-mantle.' His dalmatica was of the richest brocade, bordered with gold embroidery. At this coronation, eccle- siastics were first seen in England dressed in sumpt». .j robes of silk and velvet, worked with gold. This was in imitation of the luxury of the Greek church : the splendour of tlie dresses seen by the queen at Constantinople, occasioned the introduc- tion of this corruption in the western church. Such was the costume of the court of Eleanora of Aquitaine, the queen of England, in the year of her coronation, 1154. The Christmas festivities were celebrated that year with great pomp, at West- minster-palace; but directly the coronation was over, the king conducted his queen to the palace of Bermondsey, where, after remaining some weeks in retirement, she gave birth to her second son, the last day of February, 1155. Bermondsey, the first place of Eleanora's residence in England, was, as delineated in its ancient plans, a pastoral village nearly opposite to London, of a character decidedly Flemish. Rich in well-cultivated gju^dens and wealthy velvet meads, it possessed, likewise, an ancient Saxon palace,' and a priory then newly built. Assuredly the metropolis must have presented itself to the view of its foreign queen, from the palace of Bermondsey, with much more picturesque grandeur than it docs at present, when its unwieldy size and smoky atmosphere prevent an entire coup d'a'il. But at one glauco from the * Auiuila of tbu Abbey of Ucnuuiulioy. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 257 ig against The long iminations curls, and periwigs ; coins, the as it may, igs, which tion, with a doublet, d for him mquet of t brocade, on, eccle- ■ .i robes imitation he dresses introduc- h was the queen of Christmas at West- the king lere, after th to her idcnce in pastoral decidedly ;hy velvet 3e,' and a nust have he palace IT than it inosplicrc from the opposite bank of the river the eyes of the fair Proven9al could then behold London, her royal city, situated on ground rising from the Thames. It was at that time girdled with an em- battled wall, which was studded with gateways, both by water and land.* The new Tower of London kept guard on the eastern extremity of the city, and the lofty spire of the ancient cathedral presided over the western side, just behind the antique gateway of Ludgate. This gate led to the pleasant road of the river's Strand, ornamented with the old Temple, its fair gardens and wharf, and interspersed with a few inns^ or metropohtan dwellings of the nobdity, the cultivated grounds of which sloped down to their water-stairs and boat-houses, the Thames being then the highway of London. The Strand road terminated in the majestic palace and abbey of West- minster, the old palace, with its yard and gardens, once belonging to St. Edward, and the new palace, its noble hall and water-stairs, which owed their origin to the Norman dynasty. Such was the metropohs when Henry II. succeeded to the Enghsh crown. If the example and conduct of the first Proven9al queen was neither edifying nor pleasing to her subjects, yet, in a commercial point of view, the connexion of the merchants of England with her Aquitanian dominions was highly advan- tageous. The wine trade with Bourdeaux became considerable.' In a few months after the accession of Eleanora as queen- consort of England, large fortunes were made by the London traders, who imported the wines of Gascony from the port of Bourdeaux;'* and above all, (by the example of the maritime cities of Guienne,) the shipping of England was governed by the ancient code of laws, called the code of Oleron. In com- pliment to his consort Eleanora, Henry II. adopted for his plate-mark the cross of Aquitaino, with the addition of his ' Dowpjatc and Hillinjrspito. ' Inn wiw not, in eaily timoH, a word u«t;d for a lioiwo of public cntertnin- mont. Its orij^inal sififnirtcation wiw a t«ini)orary alxxlo in London, uwxl by abbot, biahop, or poor. ' Anderson'H History of Commerco. * " Tlio liuid," Hftyi4 one of tlio malconk'nt Saxor'. eb.rnnidcrs, "l)ccr.a5e full of drink and dnuikanU. Claret was lil. per pillou at thi« tirao. Onscon wine in gonoral sold at 20*. \ycx tun. VOL. I. I 1^58 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. f ! initial letter |^. An instance of this curious fact is stiU to be seen in the grace-cup of Thomas k-Becket.' The English chose to regard Henry II. solely as the descendant of their ancient Saxon line. " Thou art ^m"'^ said they, " to the most glorious empress Matilda, whose mother was Matilda AtheUng, daughter to Margaret, saint and queen, whose father was Edward, son to king Edmund Ironside, who was great-grandson to king Alfred." Such were the expressions of the Enghsh, when Henry convened a great meeting of the nobility and chief people at Walhngford, in March 1155; where, by the advice of his mother, the empress Matilda, (who had learned wisdom from adversity,) he swore to confirm to the Enghsh the laws of Alfred and Edward the Confessor, as set forth in the great charter of Henry I. At this grand convocation queen Eleanora appeared with her eldest son, then in his fourth year, and the infant Henry. The baronage of England kissed the hands of the infants, and vowed to recognise them as the heirs of the English monarchy. A few weeks after this recognition the queen lost her eldest son, who was buried at Reading, at the (feet of his great-grandfather, Henry I. The principal residences of the court were Winchester- palace, Westminster-palace, and the country palace of Wood- stock. The amusements most favoured by queen Eleanora were of a dramatic kind. Besides the Mysteries and Miracles played by the parish-clerks and students of divinity, the classic taste of the accomplished Eleanora patronised representations nearly allied to the regular drama, since we find that Peter of Blois,^ in his epistles, congratulatss his brother WiUiam on ' Tliis cup formerly belonged to the Arundel Collection, and wiw given by Berniird Edward, the late duke of Norfolk, to H. Howard, esq., of Corby-castlo, who thus Inscame the poasi'ssor of tluH highly -prized relic of Eleiinora's era. Tho cro88 of Aquitaine Boniewhat resembles the Maltese cross ; the cup is of ivory mounted with silver, which is studded on the summit and base with (learls and precious stones. The ih«vTiption round tho cup Is, VINCM TUCM UIBK CUM OAUDio, — • Drink thy wine with joy;' but round the lid, deeply cngravetl, is tho restraining injunction, 80DKII KSiOTK, with the initials T. U. interlaced with a mitre, the |)eculiarly low form of which stamps the antiquity of the whole. ' Ailred Chronicle. ' Or Petnis Hlesensis, who was born, il20, at the city of Biois, of a noblo fiuuil^. Uu was preceptor to William II. of Sicily, 1157t was invited to England by 5 ¥ i ELEANOBA OP AQUITADTE. 259 is still to ly as the art son/^* [da, whose ;aret, saint 5 Edmund d." Such !onvened a rallingford, lother, the adversity,) Alfred and charter of ra appeared the infant nds of the leirs of the gnition the ing, at the Vinchester- of Wood- Eleanora id Miracles the classic csentations hat Peter ^ViUiam on wiis given by (Jorljy-castlo, ra's cm. Tho uj) is of ivory til pearls and rM BIBK CUM ^nivetl, is tho n-hu-ed with a i whole. is, of a nobio to England by his tragedy of Flaura and Marcus, played before the queen. This William was an abbot, but was master of the revels or amusements at court : he composed aU the Mysteries and Miracles performed before the queen at Westminster and Winchester. It is to Peter of Blois we owe a graphic description of king Henry's person and manners ; likewise the picture of his court setting out in progress. " When king Henry sets out of a morning, you see multitudes of people running up and down as if they were distracted; horses rushing against horses, carriages overturning carriages, players, gamesters, cooks, con- fectioners, morris-dancers, barbers, courtesans, and parasites, making so much noise, and, in a word, such an intolerable tumultuous jumble of horse and foot, that you imagine the great abyss hath opened, and that hell hath poured forth all its inhabitants." We think this disorderly crew must have belonged to the queen's court, for the sketch given us by the same most amusing author of king Henry himself, would lead us to suppose that he countenanced no such riotous doings. The chaplain Peter* thus minutely describes king Henry, the husband of Eleanora of Aquitaine, in his letter to the arch- bishop of Panormitan : — " In praising David the king, it is read that he was ruddy, but you must imderstand that my lord the king is sub-rufus, or pale-red ; his harness [armour] hath somewhat changed his colour. Of middle stature he is, so that among httle men seemeth he not much, nor among long men seemeth he over httle. His head is romid, as in token of great wit, and of special high counsel the treasury." Our readers would scarcely expect phrenological observations in an epistle of the twelfth century, but we faitlifully write what we find therein : — " His head is of such quantity, that to the neck, and to all the body, it accordeth by even proportion. Henry II., and made his chapltun, and archdeacon of Bath; likewise private secretary to tlie king. He spt^nt some years at tho court of England, and died about the end of the twelfth century. He wrote al)out one hundred and thirty letters, in the most lively and individualizing style. These he collected and per- petuated, by making many copies, at tho express dcsiro of his royid maathe pnlnce. { i T iV (- 1 '< r V > ■ V >I I 262 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. when lie entered privately into marriage contract* with the unsuspecting girl; and before he left England, to retiun to his wife, his noble boy WUliam, sumamed Long-espee, was born. His own words afterwards confirmed this report: " Thou art my legitimate son," said he to one of the sons of Eosamond, who met him at the head of an armed force at a time when the rebelHon of the princes had distressed him ; "and," continued he, "the rest are bastards/" Perhaps these words afford the truest explanation of the mysterious dissensions which perpetually distracted the royal family. How king Henry excused his perjury, both to Eosamond and the queen, is not explained by chronicle ; he seems to have endeavoured, by futile expedients, to keep them both in ignorance of his perfidy. As Eosamond was retained by him as a prisoner, though not an unwilling one, it was easy to conceal from her the facts, that he had wedded a queen and brought her to England ; but his chief difficulty was to conceal Eosamond's existence &om Eleanora, and yet to indulge him- self with frequent visits to the real object of his love. Brompton says, "That one day queen Eleanora saw the king walking in the pleasance of Woodstock, with the end of a ball of floss silk attached to his spur; coming near him unperceived, she took up the ball, and the king walking on, the silk unwound, and thus the queen traced him to a thicket in the labyrinth or maze of the park, where he disappeared. She kept the matter secret, often revolving in her own mind in what company he could meet with balls of silk. Soon after, the king left Woodstock for a distant journey; then queen Eleanora, bearing her discovery in mind, searched the thicket in the park, and discovered a low door cunningly con- cealed ; this door she had forced, and found it was the entrance to a winding subterranean path, which led out at a distance to a sylvan lodge in the most retired pai-t of the adjacent forest." Here the queen found, in a bower, a young lady of incomparable beauty, busily engaged in embroidery. Queen Eleanora then easily guessed how balls of silk attached them- selves to king Henry's spurs. Whatever was the result of the 1 o^^*^ .urUiiiptUu. x>oaW6ii a iuiiiquitics. Lingard. f: I ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 263 interview between Eleanora and Rosamond, it is certain that the queen did not destroy her rival either by sword or poison, though in her rage it is possible that she might ^ •- *saten both. That Eosamond was not killed may be ascerL»_jied by the charters before named, which plainly show that she hved twenty years, in great penitence, after her retirement from the king. It is extremely probable that her interview with Eleanora led to her first knowledge that Henry was a married man, and consequently to her profession at Godstow, which took place the second year of Henry's reign. The grand error in the statements regarding Rosamond is, the assertion that she was a young girl seduced and concealed by the king when he was in advanced life. Now the charters collated by Carte prove that the acquaintance of Rosamond and Henry commenced in early youth, that they were nearly of the same age, and that their con- nexion terminated soon after queen Eleanora came to England. Twenty years afterwards, when Rosamond's death really occurred in her convent, it happened to coincide with Eleanora's imprisonment and disgrace. This coincidence revived the memory of the romantic incidents connected with Henry's love for Rosamond CHfFord. The high rank of the real object of the queen's jealousy at that time, and the circumstances of horror regarding Henry's profligacy, as the seducer of the princess Ahce, his son's wife, occasioned a mystery at court which no one dared to define. The common people, in their endeavours to guess this state secret, combined the death of the poor penitent at Godstow with Eleanora's imprisonment, and thus the report was raised that Eleanora had killed Rosa- mond. To these causes we trace the disarrangement of the chronology in the story of Rosamond, which has cast doubts on the truth of her adventures. In Brompton's narrative, we find the labyrinth' at Woodstock, and the clue of silk, famous ' As to the labyrinth or maze at Woodstock, it most likely existed before the time of Rosamond, and remained after her death, since all pleasances or gardens in the middle age were contrived with this adjimct. Traces of them exist to this day, in the names of places near defunct royal palaces ; witness ' Maze-hill' at Greenwich, (near the site of the maze or labyrinth of Greenwich-palace,) and • the Maze' in Southwark, once part of the garden of the princess Mary Tudor'a \xr^ laaVV W IVAdltJO UiXOlV .AZiC&TTaiU AA.Xi ( 1/CU*T^«J1& TT 111' III (»llVk VIIV \A\.'«*^«ft VTft Bosamond little more than a century intervened) familiarly called a structuro 264 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. (^. i ^' ,i in the romance and ballad. His chronology of the incidents is decidedly wrong, but the actual events are confirmed by the most ancient authorities. ' ' Queen Eleanora brought her husband a princess in the year 1156; this was the eldest daughter, the princess Matilda. The next year the queen spent in England. Her celebrated son, Kichard Coeur de Lion, was bom September 1157, at a palace considered one of the finest in the kingdom, called the Beau-Monte, in Oxford. Thus, that renowned university claims the honour of being the birth-place of this great warrior. This palace was afterwards turned into the White Friars* church, and then to a workhouse. The chamber in which Eichard was bom stUl remains, a roofless ruin, with some vestiges of a fire- place :* but such as it is, this fragment is deeply interesting to the EngUsh, as the birth-place of a hero of whom they are proud, Eleanora of Aquitaine, in some passages of her life, appears as one of the most prominent characters of her age : she was very actively employed, either as sovereign of her own domi- nions or regent of Normandy, during the period from 1157 to 1172. Eleanora was crowned a second time at Worcester, with the king, in 1159. When the royal pair came to ths oblation, they both took off thek' crowns, and, laying them on the altar, vowed never to wear them more. A son was bom to Henry and Eleanora, September 23rd, after the Worcester coronation : this prince bore the name of the king's father, Geoffrey Plantagenet. The same year the king betrothed this boy to Constance, the heiress of Conan, duke of Bretagne. The infant Constance was about eighteen pertaining to Woodstock-palace, ' Rosamond's chamLer,' the locality <.f which he minutely describes in a letter preserved in the Foedera, vol. iv. p. 629. In this document he directs William de Montacute "to order various repairs at his manor of Woodstock ; and that the house beyond the gate in the new wall he built again, and that same chamber, called Rosamond's chamber, to be restored as before, and crystal plates, and marble, and lead to bo provided for it." Here is indisputable proof that there was a structure called Rosamond's chamber, dis- tinct f. ""m Woodstock -palace yet belonging to its domain, being a building situ- ated beyond the park waU. Edward III. passed the first years of his marriage principally at Woodstock, therefore he veil knew the localities of the place ; which will agree with the old chroniclers, S we suppose Rosamond's residence was approached by a tunnel under the park wall. ' Iknivt eli'a Antiquities. ELBANOEA OF AQUH VINE. 265 e incidents ned by the less in the ss Matilda, celebrated 1157, at a called the 'sity claims rrior. This ?&' church, ichard was 8 of a fire- eresting to are proud, fe, appears ! : she was )wn domi- rom 1157 iVorcester, ne to tht3 them on ber 23rd, 3 name of year the >f Conan, ; eighteen of which he 29. In this )airs at his lew wall be be restored it." Here lamber, dis- lilding situ- is marriage the place; a residence months older than the little prince Geoii: y. Hen had made most unjust seizure of Bretagne, by way of couqiiest he, however, soothed the independent Bretons, by marrying their infant duchess to his son. His ambitious thirst for extension of empire, was not sated by the acquisition of this dukedom ; he immediately laid siege to Thoulouse, and, in the name of queen Eleanora, claimed that sovereignty of earl Raymond, who was in possession, and the ally of the king of France. A year was occupied with skirmishing and negotiation, during which time Eleanora acted as queen-r^ent in England. Henry sent for his queen to Normandy in 1160 j she went in great state, taking with her prince Henry and her eldest daughter, to meet their father. The occasion of her presence being required was, the marriage of Marguerite, the daughter of her former husband Louis VII. by his second wife, with her young son Henry. Chancellor Becket went with a mag- nificent retinue to Paris, and brought the little bride, aged three years, to the queen at Bouen. Both bride and bride- groom were given, after their marriage, to Becket* for education ; and this extraordinary person inspired in their young bosoms an attachment to him that ended but with their lives. Queen Eleanora kept her Christmas at Mans, with the king, in great state and splendom*, the year of this betrothment. After a sharp dispute, between Henry II. and Louis VII., relative to the portion of the princess Marguerite, the king of France compromised the matter by giving the city of Gisors as a portion with another infant princess of France, named Alice, in 1162.'' This child was in her third year when wedded to prince Richard, who was then seven years old. The httle princess was imfortunately consigned to the kiag of England for education. Two marriages we>*e thus contracted between the daughters of Louis VII. and the sons of his divorced queen, — connexions which must seem most extraor- * The secular education and support of the little princess was consigned to Robert de Newburgh, one of Henry II.'s barons, who engaged to guard her person, and bring up the princess Marguerite in a manner befitting her royal birth. * Louis had two daughters of that name, — one by Eleanora, and this child by bis second queen, Alice of Champagne. .4 266 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. I, J 1 1 19 dinary, when we consider that the father of the brides and the mother of the bridegrooms had been married, and were the parents of children who were sisters to both. Louis VII, gave his eldest daughter by queen Eleanora in marriage to Henry the Large, count of Champagne. It was in this year that king Henry's troubles began with Thomas k-Becket, who had hitherto been his favourite, his friend, and prime-minister. The contest between the king and Becket, which fiUs so many folio pages of modem history, must be briefly glanced at here. It was the same quarrel which had agitated England between Henry I. and Anselm ; but England no longer pos- sessed a virtuous daughter of her royal race for a queen, who, out of pity for the poor, deprived of their usual provision, mediated between these haughty spirits. The gay, luxurious daughter of the South was occupied with her own pleasures, and heeded not the miseries which the king's sequestrations of benefices brought on the destitute part of the population. Becket appealed to the empress Matilda, the king's mother, who haughtily repulsed his suit. Becket was the son of a London citizen, who had followed Edgar Atheling on his cru- sading expedition, and was made prisoner in Syria; he obtained his hberty through the affection of a Syrian lady, an emir's daughter, who followed her lover after his departure, and succeeded in finding him in London, although she knew but two European words, 'London' and 'Gilbert,' — ^the place of abode and Christian name of her lover. The pagan maiden was baptized, by the favourite Norman name of Matilda, and from this romantic union sprang Thomas k-Becket, who was remarkable for his learning and brilliant talents, and his fine stature and beauty. The love which Gilbert Becket bore to the race and blood of Alfred, which had sent him crusading with prince Edgar, rendered him the firm partisan of his niece, the empress Matilda. Young Becket had taken the only road to distinction open to an Anglo-Saxon : yet he was of the church, but not in it ; for he was neither priest nor monk, being rather a church- lawyer than a clergyman. Henry II. had distinguished this Anglo-Saxon with peculiar favour; to tht indignation of his ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 267 wife and mother, who warned him against feeling friendship for an Anglo-Saxon serf with the loathing that the daughters of rajahs might feel for a pariah. The see of Canterbury having remained vacant a year and a half, Henry urged his favourite to accept it, in hopes that he would connive at his plans of diverting the revenues of the church to enrich those of the crown, for this was simply the whole cause of the perpetual contest between the Anglo-Norman kings and the archbishops of Canterbury since the Conquest; but as the church supported the destitute poor, it is not difl&cult to decide which had the moral right. Archdeacon Becket protested that if he were once a bishop, he must uphold the rights of the church; but the king stiU insisted on investing him with the archbishopric. The night before his consecration, at supper, he told the king that this archbishopric would place an eternal barrier between their friendship. Henry would not beheve it. Becket was consecrated priest one day, and was invested as archbishop of Canterbury the next. To the annoyance of the king he instantly resigned his chancellorship, and became a firm champion for the rights of his see. For seven years the contest between Becket and Henry continued, during which time we have several events to note, and to conclude the history of the empress Matilda. She was left* regent of Normandy by her son, which country she governed with great wisdom and kept in a peaceful state, but she nevsr returned to England. In the year 1165 king Louis VII. gave the princess Alice (his youngest daughter by queen Eleanora) in marriage to the count of Blois, and at the same time endowed him with the office of high-seneschal of France, which was the feudal right of Henry II., as count of Anjou. Henry violently resented this disposal of his office ; and the empress his mother, who foresaw the rising storm, and who had been thoroughly satiated with the horrors of war in her youth, wrote to pope Alexander, begging him to meet her, to mediate between the angry kings. The pope obeyed the summons of the royal matron, and the kings met Matilda and the pontiff at Gisors. The differences * HovedcQ. Qervuse. Newberry. H J 268 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. between Becket and Henry II. had then risen to a fearful height. It appears that Matilda was charged by the pope with a commission of peace-making between Becket and his royal master. Emboldened by the mandate of the pope, Becket once more referred to the empress Matilda as the mediator between the church and her son, and no more met with repulse. We have seen the disgust with which Matilda recoiled from any communication with Becket, as the son of a Saxon villein ; nevertheless, this great man, by means of his eloquent epistles, was beginning to exercise the same dominion over the mind of the haughty empress that he did over every living creature with whom he communicated. Henry II., alarmed at his progress, sent to his mother a priest named John of Oxford, who was charged to inform her of many particulars derogatory to Becket's moral character, — events, probably, that happened during his gay and magnificent career as chancellor and archdeacon. The demise of the duke of Bretagne had called Henry II. to take possession of that duchy, in the name of the infant duchess Constance and her betrothed lord, his son Geoffrey, when the news arrived of the death of the empress MatUda, which occurred September 10, 1167. The mother of Henry II. was deeply regretted in Normandy, where she was called " the lady of the English." She governed Normandy with discretion and moderation, applying her revenues wholly to the benefit of the common weal and many pubhc works.' "While regent of Normandy, she apphed her private revenues to building the magnificent stone bridge, of thirteen arches, over the Seine, called le Grand Pont. The construction of this bridge was one of the wonders of the age, being built with curved piers, to humour the rapid current of the river. The empress built and endowed three monasteries ; among these was the magni- ficent structure of St. Oueu. She resided chiefly at the palace of llouen, with occasional visits to the abbey of Bee. Matilda died the 10th of September, 1167. She was interred with royal honours, first, in the convent of Bonnes Nouvellcs : her body was afterwards transferred to tlie abbey * Dua'n'rii Ncrmnndy. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 269 a fearful the pope t and his the pope, ia as the more met L Matilda ) son of a us of his dominion ver every enry II., it named of many — events, int career lenry II. lie infant Geoffrey, Matilda, lenry II. led " the iscretion benefit regent ding the Seine, ige was 3d piers, 3S8 built magni- at the Bee. he was Bonnes i abbey 1 of Bee, before the altar of the Virgin. Her son left his critical affairs in Bretagne, to attend her funeral. He raised a stately marble tomb to her memory ; upon it was the following epitaph, whose climax tends rather to advance the glory of the surviving son than the defunct mother : — " Great born, great married, greater brought to bed. Here Hemys daughter, wife, and mother's laid." ' In this grave her body remained till the year 1282, when the abbey church of Bee being rebuilt, the workmen discovered it, wrapped up in an ox-hide. The coffin was taken up, and, with great solemnity, re-interred in the middle of the chancel, before the high altar. The ancient tomb was removed to the same place, and, with the attention the chmrch of Rome ever showed to the memory of a foundress, erected over the new grave. This structure falling to decay in the seventeenth century, its place was suppHed by a fine monument of brass, with a pompous inscription.' The character of this celebrated ancestress of our royal line was as much revered by the Normans as disliked by the EngHsh. Besides Henry II, she was the mother of two sons, Geoffrey and William, who both preceded her to the grave. Queen Eleanora was resident, during these events, at the palace of Woodstock, where prince John was bom, in the year 1166. Henry completed the noble hall of the palace of Rouen,' begun by Henry I. and nearly finished by the empress Mitilda. He sent for queen Eleanora from England, to bring her daughter the princess Matilda, that she might be married to her affianced lord, Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony. The nuptial feast was celebrated in the newly-finished hall of Rouen-palace, first opened for this stately banquet, 1167. Queen Eleanora was left regent of Normandy by her royal lord ; but the people, discontented at the loss of the empress • " Ortu magna, viro m^or, sod maxima ]mrtu, Hie jiu-et Ilonrioi tilia, h|)oii8ii, jwrenn." ' Her romaina wen' discovered and pxhunu-d, for the fourth time, January IRiy, when Uie niina of the Benwlictine church of Heo (IlcUouin) wore douio« linhod. According to the Monitour, a leaden coffin, containing fruginontfi of bonr« Htid xilver ince, was found, with an inncription affiruiing that tlio clitMt ooutiunod the illustrious bones of thu empress Mutilda, &c. • Thierfy. 270 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. i, I Matilda, rebelled against her authority; which insurrection obliged Henry to come to the aid of his wife. ■ ' Guienne and Poitou became in a state of revolt soon after.* The people, who earnestly desired Eleanora, their native princess, to govern them, would not be pacified till Henry brought liis queen, and left her at Bourdeaux with her son Richai'd. Henry, the heir of England, was entitled the duke of Guienne ; but for Eleanora's favourite son, Richard, was intended the county of Poitou, subject to vassalage to his brother and father. This arrangement quieted the discon- tents of Aquitaine. The princess Marguerite, the young wife of prince Henry, was left in Guienne with her mother-in-law, while Henry II. and his heir proceeded to England, then con- vulsed with the disputes between church and state carried on by Becket. Queen Eleanora and prince Richard remained at Bourdeaux, to the satisfaction of the people of the south, who were delighted with the presence of their reigning family, although the Norman deputies of king Henry stDl continued to exercise aU the real power of the government. The heart of Henry's son and heir stUl yearned to his old tutor, Becket, — an affection which the king beheld with jealousy. In order to wean his son from this attachment, in which the yoimg princess Marguerite ftdly shared, Hemy II. resolved, in imitation of the Capetian royal famOy, to have his sou crowned king in liis lifetime, and to associate him in the government. " Be glad, my son,'" said Hemy II. to him, when he set the first dish on the table at the coronation- baiupiet in Westminster-hall ; " there is no prince in Europe has such a sewer' at his table \" — " No great condescen- Bion for the son of an carl to wait on the son of a king," replied young Henry, aside to the earl of Leicester. The princess Mju*guerite was not crowned at the same time with her husband ;* she remained in Aquitaine, with her mother- in-law, queen Eleanora. Her father, the king of France, was ' Tyrrell. ' Hovodon. ' Thin being one of tho f\inctions of the gmnd wniwhal of Franco, which <• „ b;«.. ,,fv. as count of Aiyou, led to his pcrrorming the Hamo office at his lon'it banquet. * Peter of DloU. -4 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 271 enraged at this slight offered to his daughter, and flew to arms to avenge the affront. Yet it was no fault of king Henry, who had made every preparation for the coronation of the princess, even to ordering her royal robes to be in readiness j but when Marguerite found that Becket, the guardian of her youth, was not to crown her, she perversely refused to share the coronation of her husband. The character of Henry II., during the long strife that subsisted between him and his former friend, had changed jfrom the calm heroism portrayed by Peter of Blois ; he had given way to fits of violence, agonizing to himself and dan- gerous to his health. It was said, that when any tidings came of the contradiction of his wiU by Becket, he would tear his hair, and roU on the ground with rage, grasping handsful of rushes in the paroxysms of his passion.* It was soon after one of these frenzies of rage that, in 1170, he fell iU* at Drom- front, in Maine : he then made his will, beUeving liis end approaching. To his son Henry he left England, Normandy, Maine, and Anjou; to Richard he left the Aquitanian domi- nions; Geoffrey had Bretagne, in right of his wife; while John was left dependent on his brothers. From this order of affairs John obtained the nickname of Lackland, first given him by Henry himself, in jest, after his recovery. During a fit of penitence, when he thought himself near death, Henry sought reconciliation with Becket. When, however, fresh contradictions arose between them, Henry, in one of those violent accessions of fury described above, imfortunately demanded, before the knights who attended in his bcdcluunber,^ " Whether no man loved him enough to revenge the affronts he perpetujilly received from an insolent priest?" On this liint, Fitz-Ursc, Tracy, Britton, and Mor- villc slaughtered Becket, before the altar in liis cathedral, the last day of the year 1171. ' Hovodcn. ' IJrompton. Gcrvono. Ilovcdpn. ' Fitz-^ti'phon calls tho fuiir who murdvrtid the archbishop, thu boroiu or sen'untH ol tho king'n bcdchuinbLT. I! ■I i' ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE, QUEEN OP HENRY II. CHAPTER II. ^ M Eleanora in Aquitaine — Controlled by Normans — Conspires with her sons — Jealousy — Escapes in man's attire — Means to visit her former husband — Seized — Carried prisoner to Bourdeaux — Queen Marguerite, her daughter-in- law — The two queens in captivity — Henry defeats his sons — Eleanora im- prisoned in Winchester-palace — Death of Rosamond — Turbulent sons of Henry and Eleanora — Troubadour agitators — Death of the younger king — Temporary reconciliation of king and queen— Prince Richard's wrongs — Princess AUce — Reports of divorce — Eleanora again imprisoned — Songs concerning her — Her subjects* love — Death of prince Geoffrey — Grief of Eleanora — She is brought to Poitou — Claims her dominions of prince Richard — King Henry'f disquiets — Death — Burial — Queen in captivity — King Richard releases her — Appoints her queen-regent — Her justice — Treadure-vault at Winchester — Queen-mother's dower — Eleanora sets out for Navarre — Berengaria — Eleanora arrives at Messina with Richard's bride — Departs — Mediates a dispute at Rome — Eleanora's regency — Her toilsome age. From the time of the marriage of her daughter Matilda to the Lion of Saxony, Eleanora had not visited England. The coronation of her eldest son and the murder of Becket had occurred while she resided in her native province. She had seen her son Richard, in 1170, crowned count of Poitou, with all the ceremonies pertaining to the inauguration of her ancestors. But king Henry only meant his sons to super- intend the state and pageantry of a court ; he did not intend that they should exercise independent authority, and Richard's will was curbed by the faithful Normmi veterans pertaining to his father. These casteuans were the real governors of Guicmic , ■*^ ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 273 d her sons — er husband — r daughter-in- -Eleanora im- sons of Henry J — Temporary incess Alice — erning her — mora — She is King Henry*! releases her — Winchester — ria — Eleanora a dispute at ilda to the md. The Jecket had She had )itou, with )n of her to super- Qot intend Richard's 'taining to ' Guieuuc , an order of affairs equally disapproved of by prince Eichard, queen Eleanora, and their Aquitanian subjects. The queen told her sons* Richard and Geoffrey, that Guienne and Poitou owed no obedience to a king of England, or to his Normans : if they owed homage to any one, it was to the sovereign of France; and Richard and Geoffrey resolved to act as their Provencal forefathers of old, and pay no homage to a king of England. All these fermentations were approaching a violent crisis, when Henry II., in the summer of 1173, arrived, with his son, the yoxmg king, in Guienne, to receive the long-delayed homage of count Raymond of Thoulouse, and to inquire into the meaning of some revolts in the south against his Norman castellans, evidently encouraged by his wife and prince Richard. The unsuccessful war waged by Eleanora's first husband against her kinsman of Thoulouse, in order to bring him into sub- mission to her as his suzeraine, wUl be remembered. Count Raymond, although now supported against Eleanora by Ids former enemy Louis VII., was forced to succumb to the war- like energy of the first Plantagenet king of England. Never- theless, the last shadow of domestic peace in the Enghsh royal family departed on the day when the count of Thoulouse tendered his long-delayed homage to Herjy II. as sovereign of Aquitaine. He took the opportunity of his position to sow mischief between Henry and his wife and sons. It was part of the duty of a feudal vassal to give his sovereign advice in time of need ; and when Raymond of Thoulouse^ came to this part of his oath of homage, as he knelt before Henry II., he interpolated it with these emphatic words : — " Then I advise you, long, to beware of your wife and sons." That very night the young king, although he always slept in his father's bed- room, escaped to the protection of his father-in-law, Louis \1I. From Paris, he made all manner of undutiful demands on his father. Simultaneously with the flight of young Henry, his brothers, Richard and Geoffrey, decamped for Paris. Richard's grievance was, that lii;s wife, the })rincoa8 Alice of France, was wiiile Geoffrey iiisisted, iis he had arrived ' Script. Rcr. Franc. « Ibid. 1 VOL. I. 274 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE- 'l! 1. I m 1 1 at the mature age of sixteen, that the duchy of Bretagne, and his wife Constance, whose dower it was, should be given to his sole control. Henry II. has been taxed with atrocious misconduct in regard to his daughter-in-law, the young duchess of Bretagne, in addition to the crime he really committed against young Alice of France, the spouse of his son Richard. But as the authority, John of Salisbury, calls the princess of Bretagne Alice,^ instead of her real name Constance, it is evident that the same person is meant in both instances. There is no occasion to aggravate the crimes of Henry II., which were superabundant according to the most charitable computation. They proved the punishment of Eleanora, and at the same time first opened her eyes to her own wickedness in her youth. Rumours had been brought to Eleanora, that her husband meditated a divorce ; for some lady had been installed, with almost regal honours, in her apartments at Woodstock. Court scandal pointed at her daughter-in-law, the princess AUce, whose youthftd charms, it was said, had captivated her father- in-law, and for that reason the damsel Avas detained from her affianced lord, prince Richard. Enraged at these reports, Eleanora resolved to seek the protection of the king of France ; but as she was smTounded by Henry's Norman garrisons, she possessed so httle power in her own domains, as to be reduced to quit them in disguise.^ She assumed male attire, and had travelled part of her way in this dress, when Henry's Norman agents followed and seized her, before she could reach the territories of her divorced husband. They brought her back very rudely, in the disguise ahe had adopted, and kept her prisoner in Bourdeaux till the arrival of her husband in that ' M. Michelet, Hist, de France, torn. iii. p. 206. Tliis great historian suffers his very nattiral aversion against the Anglo-Norman and Phmtagenet kings of England to curry him too fivr in his charges against them ; at the same time, his impartiality and deep research in regard to the good covercigns of Franco in the middle ages, renders his work the best general history regarding Louis VI., VII., Philippe- Augustus, and Louis IX. His analysis of the history of Tliomas a-Becket, of the war of the Albigenses, and the moral depravity of the south of Franco, will causv> no little astonishment to the mcxlem reader, and will at tlto Banic time oiler the iK'st extenuation for Kicanora of Aquitainoi odacuted ai she was in such a country. ' Ocrvttse. ■i ■L. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 275 igne, and given to nduct in Bretagne, ist young ut as the Bretagne ient that jre is no lich were iputation. the same er youth. husband lied, with t. Court ;ss AUce, Br father- from her reports, France ; isons, she reduced and had Norman each the her back tept her in that rian suffers et kings of le time, his anco in the 1 VI., VII., of nionias 10 south of will at tlie ;utod as sko city. Her sons pursued their flight safely to the court of the king of France. Now commenced that long, dolorous, and mysterious in- carceration, which may be considered the third era in the life of Eleanora of Aquitaine. But while on the contuient the im- prisonment of queen Eleanora was not stationary ; we trace her carried, with her royal husband, in a state of restraint to Barfleur, where he embarked for England. He had another prisoner in company with Eleanora ; this was his daughter-in- law, the young Marguerite, who had contumaciously defied him, left the royal robes he had had made for her coronation unworn up /i his hands, and scorned the crown he had ofiered to place on her brow if not consecrated by Becket. With these royal captives Henry II. landed at Southampton, some time in July 1173.^ Henry proceeded directly to Canterbury, carrying the captive queens in his train. Here he performed the celebrated penance, so often described, at the tomb of Becket. We have no new light to throw on this well-known occurrence, except the extreme satisfaction that his daughter- in-law Marguerite (who was in the city of Canterbury at the time) must have felt, at the sufferings and humiliation of the man who had caused the death of her tutor and friend. Scarcely had king Henry completed his penance, when tidings were brought him that his high constable had defeated prince Richard and the earl of Leicester, near Bury;'' and this news was followed by a messenger, announcing the cap- ture, at Alnwick, of WiUiam the Lion, king of Scotland, and that the royal prisoner was approacliing, with his legs tied beneath his horse, — the most approved method of showing contumely to a captive in the middle ages. All this mani- fested very clearly to the Anglo-Saxons, that St. Thomas had forgiven his royal friend, and was now exerting liimself very actively in his behalf; but when, within a very few hours, intelhgence came that the fleet of young king Henry, which * Diwto. I>r. Henry has likewise traced the progress of Henry with two q^uociis, ii'oni the conteniiwrary chroniclers. * Brouiptou and Hovodcn. T Ji 276 ELEANOEA OF AQUITAINE. I M ■ I :l i f" had set sail to invade England, had been entirely demolished by a storm, pnbhc enthusiasm for the saint knew no bounds. The king went to return thanks to St. Thomas, at the shrine before which he had done penance, and the peace of the king- dom was wholly restored. Then was queen Eleanora con- signed to confinement, which lasted, with but short intervals, for sixteen years. Her prison was no worse place than her own royal palace at Winchester,^ where she was well guarded by her husband^s great justiciary and general, Ranulph de GlanviUe, who likewise had the charge of the royal treasury, at the same place. That Glanville treated her with respect, is evident from some subsequent events. The poor penitent at Godstow expired in the midst of these troubles, — ^not cut off in her brilhant youth by queen Eleanora, but " from slow decay by pining." She was nearly forty, and was the mother of two sons, both of age. She died, practising the severest penances, in the high odour of sanctity, and may be considered the Magdalen of the middle ages. Tradition says she declared on her death-bed, that when a certain tree ' * Benedict Abbas, and many chronicles. Benedict was her prime-minister during her long regency in the succeeding reign ; therefore he must have known where his royal mistress resided for so long a period of her Ufe. ' Tlie body of Rosamond was buried at Godstow, near Oxford, a little nunnery among the rich meadows of Evenlod.-Camden. According to the peculiar custom of the times the grave was not closed, but a sort of temporary tabemaclfv called in chronicle a hearse, (of which the modem hatchment is a relic,) was erected over the coflSn ; this was raised before the high altar, covered with a pall of fair white silk, tapers burnt around it, and banners with emblazonment waved over it. Thus lying in state, it awaited the time for the erection of a monument. Twenty years after, the stem moralist St. Hugh, bishop of Lincoln, in a course of visitation of convents, came to Godstow, and demanded, " Who laid there in TOch state under that rich hearse ?" And when the simple mms replied, " It was the corpse of their penitent sister, Rosamond Cliiford," tlie rctbrmer, perhaps remembering she was the mother of his superior, the archbishop, declared " that ilie hearse of a harlot was not a fit spectacle for a quire of virgins to contemplate, nor was the front of God's altar a proper station for it." He then gave orders for the expulsion of the cofihi into the chiu-chyard. The sisters of Godstow were forced to obey at the time ; but after the death of St. Hugh they gathered the bones of Rosamond into a perftimed bag of leather, which they enclosed in a leaden case, and, with all the pertinacity of wornan's affection, deposited them in tlicir original place of interment, pretending that the transformation of the troo had taken place according to Rosamond's prophecy. Southey records a visit to the ruins of Godstow. The principal remnant serves for a cowhouse. A nut-tree STOWS out of the Denitcnt's irrave. which bears evcrv vcar a nroftision of nuts t ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 277 lemolished 10 bounds, the shrine ■ the king- nora con- intervals, than her 11 guarded mulph de [ treasurv, h respect, it of these Eleanora, forty, and practising , and may- Tradition tain tree' •ime-ministear have known Ittle nunnery the peculiar y tahemaclo, a relic,) waa li with a pall unent waved 1 monument. I, in a course laid there in replied, " It mer, perhaps dared " that contemplate, 1 gave orders odstow were i;athered the nclosed in a ited them in 1 of the tree 'ds a visit to A nut-tree ^ion of nuta she named in the convent-garden was turned to stone, they would know the time she was received into glory/ She died deeply venerated by the simple-hearted nims of Godstow, who would have been infinitely scandalized had she received visits from Henry. No does one of the many church manifestoes fulminated against Henry charge him with such an aggravation of his ofiences as the seduction of a nun ; an indubitable proof that the conventual vows had eflPectually estranged Henry and Rosamond. As the princess Alice was still the betrothed of prince Richard, no one dared to hint at any tiling so deeply heinous as her seduction by her father-in-law, for the ven- geance of the victorious Henry would have severely visited the promulgators of such scandal. The public, finding that the queen was imprisoned on accoimt of her restless jealousy, compared the circiunstance with the death of Rosamond, and revived the old story of Hemy's passion for the penitent of Godstow. From this accidental coincidence, of Eleanora's imprisonment and Rosamond's death, the memory of the queen has been imjustly burdened with the murder of her former rival. Henry II. seems to have indulged his eldest and his youngest son with the most ruinous fondness ; he always kept them near him if possible, while prince Richard and prince Geoffrey, equally beloved by their mother, were chiefly resident with her on the continent. Prince John had entirely an Enghsh education, having for his tutor that learned eccle- siastic, allied to the Welsh royal family, well kkiown to historians as the chronicler Giraldus Cambriensis. liut small profit, either to his coimtry or to himself, accrued from the English education of prince John. Through the mediation of the king of France, his father-in- law, the young king Henry was reconciled to Henry II, without kernels. King John thought proper to raise a tomb > the memory of Rosamond; it was embossed 'vith fair brass, having an inscription about ita edges, in Latin, to this effect : — •* This tomb doth here enclose The world's most beauteous rose, — Rose passing sweet erewhile. Now nought but odour vile." ' Toswell's AntiquiticH. 278 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. •v> H I, r ' ^ I ( I Mi for a time, and his spouse Marguerite was restored to him. King Louis himself visited England in 1179, for the pmrpose of praying for the health of his son Philip Augustus at the shrine of St. Thomas &,-Becket. Notwithstanding the singular relation- ship in which the kings of England and France stood to each other, as the former and present husband of the same queen, they appear to have frequently met in fiiendly intercourse. Henry received Louis with much respect, and rode all night, August 18, with his train, to meet Louis VII. at Dover, where the chroniclers relate that Henry made many curious observations on a total echpse of the moon, which happened during bis nocturnal journey, — a fact reminding us of his fondness fo.* scientific questions, as recorded in his character by Peter of Blois, Henry II. afterwards took his royal guest to his Win- chester-palace, where he showed him his treasure-vault, and invited him to take any thing he chose. Queen Eleanora was then at Winchester, but whether she met her divorced lord, is not recorded. In the course of a few months Louis VII. died, of a cold caught at his vigils near the tomb of St. Thomas k-Becket. Such was the end of the first husband of Eleanora of Aquitaine. To enter into a minute detail of all the rebeUions and insurrections undertaken by the insurgent sous of Eleanora, during their mother's imprisonment, were an endless, and indeed an impracticable task. It must suffice to hold up a picture of the manners and temper of the people over whom she was the hereditary sovereign, and who disdained the rule of any stranger, however nearly connected with the heiress of their country. All the elements of strife were kept in a perpetual state of activity, by the combativeness of the trou- badours, whose tensons, or war-songs, perjjetually urged the sons of Eleanora to battle, when they were incUned to repose. Such, among many of inferior genius, was Bertrand de Born, viscount de Hauteforte, whom Dante has introduced with such terrific grandeur in his Inferno^ as the mischief-maker between Henry II. and prince John. But he began this work with Hemy's eldest and best beloved son. Bertrand, and all the other troubadours, hated Henry II., whom they considered as ELEANORA OE AQUITAINE. 279 lI to him. purpose of the shrine u* relation- 3d to each [ueen, they 3. Henry it, August where the )servations luring bis adness fo.* erofBlois, his Wiu- v&vlt, and janora was sed lord, is jouis VII. )t. Thomas f Eleanora llions and Eleanora, dless, and hold up a iver whom i the rule heiress of kept in a the trou- urged the to repose. . de Born, with such jr between work with nd all the isidered as an interloper, and a persecutor of their rightful princess, the duchess of Aquitaine, his wife. It is said that Bertrand was in love with queen Eleanora, for he addresses many covert declarations to a "royal Eleanora" in his chansons, adding exultingly, that " they were not unknown to her, for she can read !"^ But there is a mistake of the mother for the daughter, since prince Richard, who was a brother troubadour, encouraged Bertrand in a passion for his beautiful sister, Eleanora ;* and to the daughter of the queen of England, not to herself, these passionate declarations were addressed. In the midst of insurrection against his sire, the mainspring of which was the incessant struggle to obtain an independent sovereignty, yoimg Henry Plantagenet died, at the castle of Martel, ia Guienne, in his twenty-eighth year. When he found his iUness mortal, he was seized with deep remorse for his frequent rebellions against his ever-indulgent father. He sent to king Henry to implore his pardon for his transgres- sions. Before he expired, he had the satisfaction of receiving a ring from his sire, as a token of forgiveness. On the receipt of this pledge of affection, the penitence of the dying prince became passionate ; when expiring, he caused himself to be taken out of bed, and died on sackcloth and ashes, as an atonement for his sins. The death of their heir, for a short time reconciled queen Eleanora and her royal husband. Henry mourned for the loss of this son with the deep grief of David over Absalom. The contemporary chroniclers agree, that from 1183 to 1184, when the princess Matilda, with her husband Hemy the Lion of Saxony, sought refuge in England, the captive queen was restored to her rank at the English court.* Prince Richard, nov become the heir of Henry and Elea- nora, remained som^ time quiet, in order to see how his father would conduce himself towards him. Although he had arrived at the age of twenty-seven, and the princess to whom ' Count Thierry. ' The royal family considcrtd the lovo of the noble troubadour rs a mere poet'cal passion, and the young princess was married very passively to Alphonso king of Castile. It was no trifle in the eyes of Uertrand, and the cause, doubtless, of the fterce restlessness with which lo disturbed the royal family during the life of Henry II. — Sismoudi. ' Benedict Abbas. J# 280 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. r: i I i: ' m he was half married was twenty-three, she was still detained from him. lliehard had formed at (iluicnne' an attacliment to a virtuous and beautiful princess, the daughter of a neigh- bouring potentate, and lie was anxious that his mysterious entanglement with the princess Alice should be brought to a termination. Richard seems to have met with nought but injury from his father ; nor Avas his brother Geoffrey much better treated. The continual urgency of prince Richard, in regard to tlie princess Alice, was met with constant evasion. Reports were renewed, of the king's intention to divorce queen Eleanora; amd the legate resident in England, cardhud Hugo, was con- sulted on the practicability of this divorce, and likewise on the possibility of obtaining a dispensation for the king's marriage with some person nearly allied to him.^ The consequence was, that prince Richiu'd flew to arms, and got possession of his mother's inheritance, while queen Eleanora was again committed to some restraint in Winchester-palace. Meantime, the lengthened imprisonment of queen Eleanora infiu-iated her subjects in Aquitaine. The troubadours roused the national sphit in favour of their native princess by such strains as these, which Avere the war-songs that animated the contest maintained by Richard in the name of his mother : — " Daughter of Aquitania/' fau* fruitfid vine ! thou hast been torn from thy country, and led into a strange land. Thy harp is changed into the voice of mourning, and thy songs into sounds of lamentation. Brought up in delicacy and abundance, thou enjoyedst a royal liberty, hAing in the bosom of wealth, delighting thyself with the sports of thy women, with their songs, to the sound of the lute and tabor : and now thou mournest, thou wcepest, thou consumest thyself with sorrow. Return, poor prisoner — return to thy cities, if thou canst : and if t liou canst not, weep, and say ' Alas I how long is my exile !' Weej), weep, and say * My teai's iwe my bread, both (lay and night !' Where are thy guards, thy royal escort ? where thy uuiiden train, thy councillors of state? Some of « Gorvase. * Hovedcn. Dr. Henry. ' Clirome. Ricurdi Pictaviou>«is, aj). Script. Rer. Franc* 11 i ELEANOHA OF AQUITAIXE. 281 them, (lm{]^p;e(l far from thy country, liavc sufTured an ij^no- minious death ; others liave heen deprived of sight ; others banished and wandering in divers phices. Thou criest, but no one hears thve ! — for the king of tlie North keeps thee shut up hke a town that is besieged. Cry, then, — cease not to cry ! Raise thy voice hke a trumpet, tliat thy sons may hear it ; for the day is approaching wlien thy sons shall deliver tliee, and then shalt thou see again thy native land !" These expressions of tenderness for the daughter of the old national diiefs of Aquitaine are followed by a cry of malediction against the towns which, either from force or necessity, still adhered to the king of the foreign race : — " Woe to the traitors which are in Aquitaine, for the day of their chastisement is at hand I La Rochelle dreads that djiy. She doubles her trenches, slie girds herself all round with the sea, and the noise of her great works is heard beyond the mountains. Fly before Richard, duke of Aquitaine, ye who inhabit the coast ! for he shall overthrow the glorious of the land, — he shall annihilate, from the greatest to the least, all who deny him entrance into Saintonge !" The manner of Eleanora's imprisonment was as mysterious to her contemporaries and subjects as it is to her modem historians, if we may take literally the query propounded in one of her troubadour war-songs.' " Tell me, double eagle, to]] \uc where wast thou when thine eaglets, flying from their j aiemal nest, dared to put forth their claws against tlie king of the North?" For nearly two years, the Angevin subjects of Henry II. and the Aquitanian subjects of his captive queen gave battle to each other ; and, from Rochelle to Bayonne, the dominions of queen Eleanora were in a state of insurrection. The con- temporary chroniclers, who beheld tliis contest of husband against wife, and sons against father, mstead of looking upon it as the natural consequence of a divided rule in an extended empire, swayed by persons of great talents who had received a corrupt education, considered it as the influence of an evil * Tenson quoted by M. Michelet, in his History of France. Eleanora is desi;?* natod in the prophecies of Merlin as the double eagle, on account (jf the double oovoruijfuty she had possessed, as queen of France and then of Enjrland, 282 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. I J'l I destiny presiding over the race of Plantagenet, and as the punishment of some great crime. ^ \ Many sinister stories, relating to the royal family, were current. Queen Eleanora, when pursuing, in her early days, her guilty career as queen of France,' it was whispered, had been too intimate with Geoffrey Plantagenet, her husband^s father. Then the story of Foidke the Red," the first that took tlie name of Plantagenet, was revived, and the miu-der of his brother discussed. Likewise, the wonderful tale was remem- bered of the witch-countess of Anjou, Henry II.'s great- grandmother, wife to Foulke le Rechin, whose cognomen means *the quarreller.' This count, having observed that his wife seldom went to church, (and when she did, quitted it fdways at the elevation of the Host,) thought proper not only to force her to mass, but made foui* of his esquires hold her forcibly by the mantle when she was there ; when, lo ! at the moment of consecration, the coimtess, untying the mantle by which she was held, left it in the hands of the esquires, and flying through the window of the chapel, was never heard of more. A great thunder-storm happened at the moment of her departure ; a dreadful smell of brimstone remained, which " no singing of the monks could allay." Tlie truth of this marvellous tale probably is, that the countess was killed by lightning, in a church injured by a thunder-storm. Her ungracious descendant, Richard Cceur de Lion, used to tell tliis tale witli great glee to his knights at Poitou ; and added, ** Is it to be wondered that, having spnmg from such a stock, we live on bad terms with each other? From Satan wc sprang, and to Satan we must go." Geotfrey held out Limoges, in his mother's name, with great pertinacity. Among other envoys came a Norman clerk, hohhng a cross in his hand, and supplicated Geoffrey not to imitate the crime of Absalom. " What !" said Geoffrey, "woiUdat thou have me deprive myself of mine inheritance ? It is the fate of our family that none shall love the rest. Hatred is our rightfid heritage," added he, bitterly, *' !uid none will ever si * Urompton. .!„ :,.: .,.- ^c u It vicpiiviiig us Ul IL. " Script. Ror. Fnuic. Tk. : — ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 283 and as the family, were ir early days, lispered, had er husband's rst that took lurder of his was remem- II.'s great- e cognomen bserved that id, quitted it per not only jes hold her I, lo ! at the le mantle by ssquires, and i^er heard of moment of wned, which ruth of this as killed by orm. Her used to tell and added, uch a stock, I Satan we name, with a Norman ed Geoftrey hat \" said ilf of mine le shall love he, bitterly. }> T\ : a conference which prince GeoflFrey soon after had with his father, in the market-place at Limoges, for the purpose of discussing peace, the Aquitanian soldiers and supporters of Geoffrey, full of rage at the sight of the monarch who kept their duchess imprisoned, broke the truce, by aiming from the castle a shower of cross-bow shafts at the person of the king, one of which came so close as to shoot his horse through the ear. The king presented the arrow to GeoiFrey, saying, with tears, " Tell me, Geoffrey, what has thy unhappy father done to thee, to deserve that thou, his son, shoiddst make him a mark for thine archers?" Geoffrey was greatly shocked at this accident, of which he declared he was whoUy innocent. It was the outbreak of popular fury in his mother's subjects. When prince Richard and prince Geoffrey were not com- bating with their father's subjects, they employed themselves in making war on each other. Just before the death of Geoffrey, his brother Eichard invaded his dominions in Bretagne with fire and sword, on some unaccountable affront, blown into a blaze by the sirventes of the troubadours. After this faction was pacified, Geoffrey went to assist at a grand tournament at Paris, where he was flung from his steed in the midst of the miUe, and was trodden to death beneath the feet of the coursers. He was bmied at Notre Dame. This was the second son queen Eleanora had lost since her imprison- ment, in the very flower of his youth and strength. Like hi. brother Henry, this prince was remarkable for his manly beauty, and the agile grace of his martijd figure. His death afflicted his mother equally with that of her first-born ; for Geoffrey had been brought up a Provcn9al, and had shown far more resentment for his mother's imprisonment than the young king Henry. That Eleanora loved both with all a mother's passionate tenderness, we have the evidence of her own most eloquent words. lu one of her letters to the pope, preserved in the collection of Peter of Blois, she says, — "The younger king and the count of Bretagne both sleep in dust, while their most wretched mother is compelled to hvo on, though tortured by the irremediable recollections of the dead." 284 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. I' I The misfortunes of prince Arthur, duke of Bretagne, thus began before his birth, and were strengthened by his baptism, on the 29th March, 1187. The duchess Constance brought him into the world a few months after the death of his father. Eleanora, the eldest child of Constance, had been proclaimed heiress of Bretagne, but was disinherited by the birth of her brother. " It was the pleasure of king Henry and queen Eleanora that the infant should be named Henry ; but the Bretons chose to indulge their natural prejudices in favour of king Arthur, whom they claim as their countrjrman ; and as they looked for- ward to the boy as the possible heir of England, they insisted on giving the last descendant of the Armorican princes that favourite name. This was the first pubhc displeasure given by Constance to the parents of her husband : their enmity increased with years." — " Great scandal arose after the death of Geofirey, regarding the duchess Constance and her brother- in-law John : tin his marriage with Isabella of Angouleme, he was constantly * haunting her / and on this account, it is sup- posed, Hemy II., after the birth of her posthumous son Arthur, forced the duchess to marry the earl of Chester, as prince John's attentions to his sister-in-law caused considerable comment."* Prince Bichard having obtained possession of the whole of Aquitaine, his father commanded him to surrender it to his mother, queen Eleanora, whom he had brought as fai* as Normandy to claim her right.' The moment the prinoe received this mandate he gave up the territory, and hastened to Normandy to welcome the queen, and congratulate her on her restoration to freedom. This release is recorded by the friend of the queen, abbot Benedict. From him we learn that, during the year 1186, Eleanora exercised sovereign power at Bourdeaux, and then resigned it to her son Bichard, who in the mean time had made his peace with his father. Henry II. was with his queen during this period ; for lienedict declares that, the following April, they sailed from Barfleur to England. Eleanora was again put under some restraint at Winchester- palace, which she quitted no more till the death of king Henry, 4^^ V tlirce vpnrg afterwards. ' Ciirto. ' Benedict Abhna. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 285 tagne, thus baptism, on rought him his father, proclaim:'! lirth of her ;n Eleanora etons chose ng Arthur, looked for- ley insisted trinces that asure given leir enmity r the death ler brother- jouleme, he t, it is sup- son Arthur, ince John's omment."' le whole of er it to his as far as the prince ,d hastened ate her on ied by the we Icam cign power ird, who in Henry II. (!t declares [) England, f^inchester- ng Henry, The commission of moral wrong had involved Henry, great and powerful as he was, in a net, within whose inextricable folds he either vainly struggled, or awaited the possibility of deUverance by the death of the queen. If Eleanora had preceded him to the grave, as in the common comae of nature might have been expected, he would have sued instantly for a dispensation to marry the affianced bride of his son. While the queen livedo this could not be done without an explosion of scandal which would have dishonoured him in the eyes of aU Europe. Henry had only two alternatives ; either to permit his heir to marry the princess Alice, or to shorten the life of the queen Eleanora by violent means. Although his principles were not sufficiently firm to resist temptations to vice, yet he was not abandoned enough to commit dehberately either atrocity. So time wore uneasily on, tiU prince Richard attained the age of thirty-four, and Alice that of thirty ; while the king still invented futile excuses to keep both in this mi- lerable state of entanglement, wherein Richard could neither f'4 fee himself from Alice, nor give his hand to any other bride. Yet Richard, to further his own ends, made the brother of Alice beUeve that he was willing to complete his engagement. " It was the wish of Henry II. to crown his son John king of England during his lifetime, and to give Richard all liis dominions that lay beyond the English sea. Richard was not content; he came to the king of France, and c^^ed for aid, saying, * Sire, for God's sake suffer me not to be disinherited tlms by my sire. I am engaged to your sister Alice, who ought by right to be my wife. Help me to maintain my rights and hers.' "' The king of France, after vainly seeking for explanation of the reason why his sister was not married to her betrothed, made, with prince Richard, an appeal to arras. Khig Philip contrived to induce prince John to join in tlic rebeUion. When Henry heard tliat this idolized child of hisi old age had followed the insurj;ent example of liis bretliren, he tlurew himself into a paroxysm of rage, and invoked the bitterest curses on liis head, and that of prince he Cursed the day of liis own birth; and, after ' Bernard lo Tri'jj<-)rior. — Quizot'a Chron. T?:„i, — J 286 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. giving orders to his painter at Windsor to paint a device, of a young eaglet pecking out the eyes of an eagle, as a reproach to prince John, he set out for the continent, in an aj^'^nized state of mind. After waging, for the first time in his life, an unsuccessful war, king Henry agreed to meet his son Richard and the king of France at Vezalai. As the king was on his progress to this congress, he fell ill at Chinon, after indulging in one of his fits of violent passion.^ Finding that hir. life was departing, he caused himself to be carried before the high altar of the cathedral, where he expired in the supporting arms of Geoffrey, the youngest son of Rosamond, who was the only one of his children from whom he received fiUal attention in his last moments. Before he died, he spoke earnestly to him, and gave him a ring of great value ; then lajdng his head on the bosom of Geoffrey," his spirit departed, leaving his features still convulsed with the agony of rage which had hastened his end. When the news was brought to Richard, that the crown of England had devolved upon him by the sudden death of his father, he was torn with remorse and regret. He went to meet the royal corpse at I'ontevraud, the place of interment pointed out by the will of the deceased monarch. King Henry, when he was carried forth to be buried, was first apparelled in liis princely robes, having his crown on his head, gloves on his} hands, and shoes on his feet, wrought with gold ; spurs on his heels, a ring of gold on his finger, a sceptre in his hand, his sword by his side, and his face uncovered. But this regaUa was of a strange nature, for the corpse of Henry, like that of the Conqueror, had been stripped and plundered ; and when those who w ere charged with the funeral demanded the ornaments in which Hemy was to lie in state, the trea- surer, as a favour, sent a ring of httle value, and an old sceptre. As for the crown wiia which the warlike brow of Henry was encircled, it was but the gold fringe from a lady's petticoat, torn off for the occasion ; and in this odd attire, the greatest monarch in the world went down to his last abode.' * Wliifh Brotn])t()n dorlaroH was the inimcdin^'.' oniwe of deutb. • Lord liyttcltoiu • J. P. AndrowiJ. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 287 a device, of a reproach m agoTiized insuccessfiil id the king progress to ; in one of J departing, iltar of the )f Geoffrey, one of his in his last I him, and Lead on the eatures still Led his end. le crown of :eath of his lie went to ' interment 'ch. King , was first ►n his head, with gold; I sceptre in ered. But of Henry, plundered ; demanded e, the trea- nd an old to brow of »m a lady's attire, the st abode.' eutU. Thus he was conveyed to the abbey of Fontevraud, where he lay with his face uncovered, showing, by the contraction of ill,: features, the violent rage in which he departed. When Richard entered the abbey he shuddered, and prayed some moments before the altar, when the nose and mouth of his father began to bleed so profusely, that the monk in attend- ance kept incessantly wiping the blood from his face. Richard testified the most poignant remorse at this sight. He wept bitterly ; and, prostrating himself, prayed earnestly, under the mingled stimulus of grief and superstition, and then lising, he departed, and looked on the face of his sire no more.* Henry II. died July 6th, 1189. The first step taken by Richard I. on his accession to the EngHsh crown was, to order his mother's release from her constrained retirement at Winchester-palace. From a captive, queen Eleanora in one moment became a sovereign; for the reins of the English government were placed in her hands at the time of her release. She made a noble use of her authority, according to a manuscript cited by Tyrrell : — " Queen Eleanora, directly she was hberated from her re- straint at Winchester, was invested with fuU powers as regent, wliich she most beneficially exercised, going in person from city to city, setting free all those confined under the Norman game-lawr^ which in the latter part of Henry's life were cruelly enforced. When she released prisoners, it was on condition that they prayed for the soul of her late husband. She likewise declared she took this measiu-e for the benefit of his soul.'' Her son had given her fuU power, but, to her great honour, Eleanora did not use it against those who had been her gaolers or enemies. Her regency was entirely spent in acts of mercy and wisdom, and her discriminating acumen in the prisoners she liberated may be judged by the following hst : — She liberated fully, — " all confined for breach of forest laws, who were accused of no further crime. All who were outlawed for the same, she iuvited back to their homes and famihes. Ail who had been seized by the king's arbitrary commands, * Count Tliicrry, from Noruuvu cbroiiiclos. . I |l ri 288 ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. •i: and were not accused by their hundred or county, she set free. But all malefactors accused on good and lawful evidence were to be kept in p on, without bail." "When we consider Eleanora going from city to city, examining thus into the wrongs of a government that had become arbitrary, and seeing justice done to the lowest, we are apt to think that her imprisonment had improved her disposition. The queen-regent next ordained that "every freeman of the whole kingdom should swear that he would bear faith to his lord, Richard, son of king Henry and queen Eleanora, for the preservation of life, hmbs, and terrene honour, as his hege lord, against all hving; and that he would be obedient to his laws, and assist him in the pre- servation of peace and justice." ^ Eleanora showed so little distaste to the Winchester-palace, that she returned thither, after her justiciary progress, to await the arrival of her son from the coast of Normandy. It appears that king Eichard, when he gave commands for his mother^s release, ordered her castellan, the keeper of the treasure-vault at Winchester, Ranulph de GlanviUe, to be thrown into a dungeon in Winchester-castle, and loaded with fetters weighing a thousand pounds.^ Our ancient chroniclers, when labouring to reconcile the prophecies of Merlin with the events of EngUsh history, while hunting after the impossible, very often start some particulars wliich would otherwise have slept slurouded in the dust of the gTave. Thus, speaking of the hberation of Eleanora of Aquitaine by her son, Richard I., Matthew Paris says she is designated, by Merlin's sentence, Aquila ru2)ti foederis iertid nidificatione gaudtbit ; 'the destructive eagle shall rejoice in her third nestling ' — " Eleanora," pursues Matthew, " is the eagle, for she spreads her wings over two nations, England and Aquitaine; also, by reason of her excessive beauty, she destroyed or injiu-ed nations. She was separated from the king of France by reason of consangumity, and from the king • This \» the first oath of allegiance ever takcu in England to an uncrowned kiiij;. *'' Tyrrell, to whofe most learned and indeftitigable research iho elucidation w jnouy dark passiigea of Eleanora's life is owing. ^L_. ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 289 tic ciuciuauon Oi of England by divorce upon suspicion, and kept in close con- finement. She rejoiced in her tliird nestling, since Richard, her third son, honoured her Avith all reverence after releasing her from prison." If Matthew would imply chat Henry con- fined Eleanora for impropriety of conduct, he is mtt supported by other authors. King Richard I. landed at Portsmouth, August the 12th, 1189. Three '^-ys after, he amved at his mother's court at Winchester, where his first care was directed to his father's treasure. After he had conferred with his mother, he ordered before him Ranulph de GlaaviUe, who gave him so good an account of the secrets of the Winchester treasure-vault, that he set him at liberty, and ever after treated him with con- fidence. Either Ranulph de GlanviUe had behaved to the queen, when his prisoner, with all possible respect, or Eleanora was of a very magnanimous disposition, and forbore prejudicing her son against her late casteUan. GlanviUe gave up to the king the enormous sum of nine hundred thousand poimds, besides valuable jewels. At his first seizure, only 100,000 marks were found in the treasure- vault, which, it seems, pos- sessed some intricacies only kno>vn to GlanviUe.^ The king's next care was to settle the revenue of the mother he so pas- sionately loved, and whose wrongs he had so fiercely resented. Her dower was rendered equal to those of the queens Matilda Atheling and Matilda of Boulogne. Richard returned to England with the fuU intention of immediately joining the crusade, now warmly preached throughout Christendom. In furtherance of tliis cherished purpose, preparations were instantly made for liis early coro- nation, which took place on the 3rd of September, 1189, tlu'ee ' Hoveden. Brompton. Tyrrell. Paris, llie sinjyiilar emplojainont of war- like barons as justiciaries, and the combination of the offices of general u\A of lawyer in one man, are strange features in the Normaii and Angevin douination in England, This Ranulph de Glanvilk- is an instance; he was Henry's great general, who defeated and took prisoner William the Lion of Scotland ; but ho is only known to our gentlemen of the bar as the author of " Olanville's liisti- tutes," — this steel-clad baron being the first who reducctl the laws of England to a written code. To make the contrast with niddorn times still stronger, the great legalist died crusading, having, either to pUuse Cocnr de Lion, or to atone for his sins both as lawyer and general, taken up the cross, for the purjwse of battling " Mahoim and Termagauut." VOL. I. U 290 ELEANORA OF AQUITAmE. I U " f' I I f weeks only after he reached the shores of his future kingdom. As the etiquette of the queen-mother's recent widowhood prevented her from sharing in this splendid festival, all women were forbidden to be present at its celebration. The chroni- clers declare that Eichard issued a proclamation the day before, debarring all women' and Jews from entering the pre- cincts of Westminster-abbey at the time of his inauguration, — a classification of persons greatly impugning the gallantry of the hon-hearted king, when we remember the odium attached to the name of a Jew. The Proven9al alliance had produced a prodigious inflix of this usu .^us race into England. As they enjoyed high privileges in the hereditary dominions of queen Eleanora, they supposed they were secure under her son's government. Believing money would buy a place every- where, they flocked to the abbey, bearing a rich presei t ; but the populace set upon them and slaughtered them, being excited to a rehgious mania by the preaching of the crusade. The massacre of these imfortunate money-brokers was not perpetrated with the connivance of either king Richard or the queen-mother, since Brompton expressly declares that the ringleaders were, by the king's orders, tried and put to death. Alice, the long-betrothed bride of Richard, was neither mar- ried nor crowned. On the contrary, she ^\ils committed to the same species of restraint, by the orders of the queen, in which she herself had been so long held captive. The princess Alice had been twenty-two years without leaving England; and as she was the only person on whom Eleanora retaliated any part of her wrongs, the inference must be drawn that she considered Alice as the cause of them. Eleanora departed for Aquitaine as soon as her son had settled her EngUsh dower, and Richard embarked at Dover, for Calais, to join, the crusade, taking with him but ten ships from the Enghsh ports. His troops were disembarked, and he marched across France to his mother's dominions, where he formally resigned to her the power he had exercised, during his father's lifetime, as her deputy. Richard appointed the ' HoveN Ii ELEANORA OF AQUITAINE. 293 Not only in this instance, but in several others, traits of the subdued spirit of Eleanora are to be discovered j for the ex- treme mobiUty of her spirits diffused itself even over the cold records of state. When swayed by calmer feelings, she stylets herself " iEUenora, by the grace of God, humbly queen of En^^land."^ Eleanora of Aquitaine is among the very few wom^*', who have atoned for an iU-spent youth by a wise and benevolent old age. As a sovereign, she ranks among the greatest of female rulers.^ * Rymer, vol. i, 2 To prevent repetition, the rest of her life is comprehended ia the memoirs of her daughters-in-law, Berengaria and Isahella. was then con- BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE, QUEEN-CONSORT OP RICHARD I. (\ Mutual attachment of Berengaria and Richard — Berengaria's descent — Beren- garia demanded in marriage — Travels with queen Eleanora — Waits with her at Brindisi — Is consigned to queen Joanna — Queen Eleanora's regency — Redeems, as her queen-gold, the cup of the monks of Bury — Embarks for Palestine — Berengaria lands in a storm at Cyprus — Nuptials at Cyprus — Costume of queen Berengaria — Crowned queen of England and Cyprus — Berengaria sails for Palestine — Received by king Philip at Aire — Her residence there — Berengaria embarks with Joanna — Richard shipwrecked — Imprisoned — Berengaria at Rome — The queens escorted by count Raymond St. Gilles — Queen Joanna married to him — Misfortunes of king Richard — Eleanora's regency — Her letter to the pope — She ^ain redeems the gold cup of the monks of Bury — Berengaria resigns the captive Cypriot — Berengaria's brother — Queen-mother returns with Richard to Englsiud — She remits her queen-gold a tliird time to the monks of Bury — Berengaria forsaken — Richard's penitence — Berengaria's goodness — Follows Richard to war — Devoted love — King's death — Death of queen Joanna — Berengaria's dower — Her pecuniary troubles — Builds abbey of Espan — Resides there — Dies there — Buried — Effigy — Character. Berengaria, the beautiful daughter of Sancho the Wise, king of Navarre, was first seen by Richard Coeur de Lion, when count of Poitou,^ at a grand tournament given by her gallant brother at Pampeluna, her native city. Richard was then captivated by the beauty of Berengaria, but his engage- ment to the fair and frail Ahce of France prevented him from oflfering her his hand. Berengaria may be considered a Proven9al princess by language and education, though she * See the preceding biography. liEii descent — ^Beren- Waits with her )ra*8 regency — Y — Embarks for lis at Cyprus — I and Cyprus — at A(;re — Her I shipwrecked — count Raymond king Richard — ms the gold cup )t — Berengaria's -She remits her aken — Richard's -Devoted love — —Her pecuniary -Buried — Effigy 3 the Wise, ur de Lion, ^ven by her Eichard was his engage- evented him considered a though she 4*- ."*■ *r* ^"•Ll ItM !,': .'if m. ■ """> ■'''' 'I* J- ■?- 'i> i' .-^ "^ r-* ., ,'«7 ? . f f" •4 *i »)»^ ■.^.■ '1 ffi (■! I ! BRKK^^ ^Mt\ OF N.'iVAUKK, K^X;}LhJ!i^^J■.mt^.H,f i*¥ HICHAltD L 'ii t 1 > '1 ! ! ' Mutual attficJwuen* of Bcrcngarin ftml Klchard— -Bcrpii^'Hiiu'H 'Uwctnjt — Rci\ii- giirirk i^omui'drtl lii riiarri8^u--Tr.'\ve)9 with q'U'*'!i Kioisru^m -VVnits vvirh bur at T>riiKli>ra'« n-^vnoy — Il«locin», a« lur quou-frold, tin.' »mp of the monks vt' Hury — lCnil>aik.i for I'Mii-stiiio — Hcrcngarn lauds in n utorui at C'j prii." — ^Jinitiiils at C'vpru*— G^UTJia of i)Ui>cn )^'ivnif«ria -Cruwrnxl quoi'i <.>f' Enijldiic? luid Cypnis — B«;r(.»rij5«rui t«m for f's!i'-turks .vith .'i'»»nua — Rioltaru *)»ip\M»3LkoT'- * •i?*"*'"'^' *H^' lipoid nip Kl;:;r'i« dit»i.' -• — (Jlwi;«ct«.'r. >. • • .jr>i< UrtvTignriit'i* V>.'. < ■<,•*■ VI Slio rumil^ br" •v y^, .iy«ia t'orsaktt) — Kkiinrd'A .i, -' svri! -ti' WW- D' votcil love— '%- ii!<,.ri»'s vU>wtT -Her i[xicuniury ^''- i,icj\>— Dim tluvo- -JJuricd — EiHg^\ kin^ of Na^HiTO, wn when count of Poiton, ■j MWigiitcr of ;*au<'ho the Wi^» , 1 -jHu l>y lluimrd C(jL]iir (\<- Lioi: i.'iniu'i t.-:unairic,ut jjiven }>v he:- gnliuiit hrochor ut l'ttnv{«'','aim, hr.\ imflvo city, llichiiiil was then crtptivattMl 1>y th{! ^xnnty vf lU'trii-^juiJi, Imt: hi.« fOfruf^f lUCnt to the fmr iind h-Uii ^t t t)j Irnincc j»re>ventt^l hiic fn)n» of|prin|if lier his Jumi. i>f'n;u{j:nriii mity be oousidcrtiJ ; ■!»^iii>- IF. -Wiiit* with bci- i(.)ra"s n.'>;ency — py — KnibarKrt for iftls lit (,',«• vfuu— c? Hiiil Cyprus— ) lit. AlW" U<}r d jihipv. lecktKi - ^.'' y »-, nimi-- if i^ol'l nip !JnvTijfRri;i'» •>ii'' lomiiK 111" ■^aktJi -U'u iturti'* D» \otod love— - Hit ^xviiniuiy • iluric'l — KiHi^,> in til': \VJ!^»\ )..;ir (^f- Lion :iven l>y hu:- lUfli'Ujl wa.s hi-' rnpuRt- rovt'iiU^l liiii' 6/' / ^.'/. ^ y ), .l!>'i'iv ' 11, nm, l«.M 'I I!' ! 1 i i 1 . \i el! 1 1.! 1 ! i F ti I BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 295 was Spanish by descent. Her mighty sire, Sancho the Wise, had for his immediate ancestor Sancho the Great, called the emperor of all Spain, although he inherited but the httle kingdom of Navarre. He married Beatrice, daughter to Alphonso king of Castile, by whom he had three children, Berengaria, Blanche, and one sou, Sancho, sumamed 'the Strong,' — a hero celebrated by the Proven9al poets for his gallant exploits against the Moors ; for he defeated the Mira- moUn, and broke with his battle-axe' the chains that guarded the camp of the infidel, which chains were afterwards trans, ferred to the armorial bearings of Navarre. An ardent friendship had subsisted, from boyhood, between Richard and Sancho the Strong, the gaUant brother of Beren- garia. A similarity of pursuits strengthened the intimacy of Kichard with the royal family of Navarre. The father and brother of Berengaria were celebrated for their sldll and judg- ment in Proven9al poetry.' Berengaria was herself a learned princess ; and Richard, who was not only a troubadour-poet, but, as acting sovereign of Aquitaine, was the prince and judge of all troubadours, became naturally drawn into close bonds of amity with a family, whose tastes and pursuits were similar to his own. No one can man'el that the love of the ardent Richard should be strengthened when he met the beautiful, the culti- vated, and virtuous Berengaria, in the famihar intercourse which sprang fn)m his friendship with her gallant brother -' but a long and secret engagement, replete with " hope deftrf d," was the fate of Richard the Lion-hearted and tiie iau flower of Navarre. Oiu" early historians first mention the attachment of Richard and Berengaria about the year 1177. If we take that event for a datum, even allowing the princess to have !)een very young when she attracted tlie love of Richard, she must have been twenty-six, at least, before the death of hia ' AtlaH Historiquo. ' Chronicle of Navarre • RichRrd and Inn nt'phi'W, tho trotilmdotir count of CliiuniM^n***. who after* wnnlH marritHl Hlanclio, *hc yoiingt'r mnivr of Ik'n'ntraria, wiTc, with Sancho tlio Stmnjr, on the mont intimate tcrniR of friendHhip, \wing JYatret Jtirati, or •worn bruthiTM, uncording to a ciut^ini of tlio chivalrio agon. 296 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. i 1, W lY ). father placed him at hberty to demand her hand. Richard had another motive for his extreme desire for this alliance ; he considered that his beloved mother, queen Eleanora, was deeply indebted to king Sancho, the father of Berengaria, because he had pleaded her cause vnth Henry II., and obtained some amehoration of her imprisonment. Soon aftsr Richard ascended the Enghsh throne, he sent his mother, queen Eleanora, to the court of her friend Sancho the Wise, to demand the princess Berengaria in marriage; " for," says Vinisauf, " he had long loved the elegant girl." Sancho the Wise not only received the proposition with joy, but entrusted Berengaria to the care of queen Eleanora. The royal ladies travelled from the court of Navarre together, across Italy to Naples,' where they found the ships belonging to Eleanora had arrived in the bay. But etiquette forbade Berengaria to approach her lover tiU he was free from the claims of Ahce ; therefore she sojourned with queen Eleanora at Brindisi, in the spring of 1191, waiting the message from king Richard, announcing that he was free to receive the hand of the princess of Navarre. It was at Messina that the question of the engagement between the princess Ahce and the king of England was debated with Philip Augustus, her brother; and more than once, the potentates assembled for the crusade expected that the forces of France and England would be called into action, to decide the right of king Richard to give his hand to another lady than the sister of the king of France. The rhymes of Piers of Langtoft recapitulate these events with brevity and quaintness ; — •' Thon spake kitig Philip, and in griof said, ' My sinter Alios is now forsiiken, Since one, of more riclios, of Navarre hnst thon taken.* Wljcn king Richard understoo • the war-cry of the dukeui. : • iig Richard had a vision of St. Qoorp^ «• n he undertook the crosa i-. ' i mny indioationH through" . tho chroiut.citii show tliat St. Ucorge was 00U..1 . "■ d the putron-saint of tho expedition. I n ;i BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 299 shrine of jra recog- siire sent jr portion, I of Bury 1, on con- i?i creased (liard and slirine of v'^f^voutly presented ig it was Glaston- the tomb ite galley, iously, in '^enty-four with the might be ted them >m which Eiriiage of )t permit i-enc-th©- le sailed, est ships, \imham. fleet in to rallv hundred unds. eservea Uio these early itaine; hU sion of St. ugb'i . tho expedition. *1^ and fifty ships a"jd fifty galleys, and accompanied by his bride and his sister, iid hon-hearted Eichard hoist sail for Palestine, where Philip . kugustus had already indolently commenced the siege of Acre, " Syrian virgins wiul and weep^ English Richard ploughs the deep." But we must turn a deaf ear to the bewitching metre of poUshed verse, and quote details taken by Piers of Lang- toft from the Proven9al comrade of Richard and Berengaria's crusade voyage : — « Till king Richard be forward he may have no rest. Acres then is his tryste upon Saracen fiends,* To venge Jesu Christ hitherward he wends. The king's sister Joanne, and lady Berengare, Eoremost s^ed of ilk one ; next them his chancellor, Bog&c Mancel. The chancellor so hight. His tide fell not well ; a tempest on him light, His ship was down borne, himself there to die; The king's seal was lost, with other gallies tway. Lady Joanna she the Lord Jesu besought. In Cyprus she might bo to haven quickly brought : The maiden Berengare, she was sore afright. That neither fiir nor near, her king rode in sight." Queen Joanna was alarmed for herself, but the maiden Berengaria only thought of Richard's safety. Bernard, the treasurer, does not allow that Joanna was quite so much fiightened. We translate his words : " Queen Joanna's galley sheltered in the harbour of Limoussa, when Isaac, the lord of Cyprus, sent two boats, and demanded if the queen would land ? She declined the offer, saying, * All she wanted was, to know whether the king of England had passed?' They replied, "They did not know.' At that juncture Isaac approached with a great power; upon which the chevaliers who guarded the royal ladies got the galley in order, to be rowed out of the harbour at the first indication of hostility. Meantiin Isatic, who saw Berengaria on board, demanded *Yvliat (inmscl that was with them?' They declared, 'She was the c-i ter of the king of Navarre, whom the king of Englimd's mother h -d brought to* him to espouse.* Isaac seamed so angry at this iutelligence, that Stephen de Tuni= * Fiend means ' enemy * in Ocrnan, and doubtlcfls In Anglo-Saxon. 300 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. I V i: ham gave signal to heave up the anchor, and the queen's galley rowed with all speed into the offing."^ When the gale had somewhat abated, king Richard, after mustering his navy, found not only that the ship was missing wherein were drowned both the chancellor of England and the great seal, but the galley that bore the precious freight of his sister and his bride. He immediately sailed from a friendly Cretan harbour in search of his lost ships. "When arrived off Cyprus, he entered the bay of Famagusta, and beheld the galley that contained his princesses labouring heavily and tossing in the oflfing. He became infuriated with the thought that some wrong had been offered to them, and leaped, armed as he was, into the first boat that could be pre- pared. His anger increased on learning that the queen's galley had put into the harbour in tl; ^ storm, but had been driven inhospitably from shelter by the threats of the Greek despot.^ At the time of Richard's landing, Isaac and all his islanders were busily employed in plundering the wreck of the chancel- lor's ship and two English transports, then stranded on the Cypriot shore. As this self-styled emperor, though in be- haviour worse than a pagan, professed to be a Christian, Richard, at his first landing, sent him a civil message, sug- gesting the propriety of leaving off plundering his wrecks. To this Isaac returned an impertinent answer, saying, " That whatever goods the sea threw on his island he should take, without asking leave of any one." " They shall be bought full dear, by Jesu, heaven's king!" With this saying, Richard, battle-axe in hand, led his crusaders so boldly to the rescue, that the mock emperor and his Cypriots scampered into Limoussa, the cipital of the island, much faster than they had left it. Freed from the presence of the inhospitable despot, king Richard made signals for Joanna's galley to enter the harbour. Berengaria, half dead with fatigue and terror, was welcomed on shore by the conquering king, when, says the clu'onicler, " there was joy and love enow." ' Quizot's edition of Bernard le Tr^ jorier. ■'* Vinisauf and Piers Ltiiigtoft. 'Despot' was i\ title given to +1.0 tctty Greek potentates. w !l i le queen's lard, after IS missing gland and freight of i from a i. When ■^st&, and labouring iated with them, and Id be pre- jn's galley ;en diiven k despot.'* I islanders 3 chancel- 3d on the ;h in be- ChristiaUj sage, sug- wrecks. g, " That uld take, crusaders 1 Cypriots id, much ce of the Joanna's ead with nquering ^e enow." D tl.o tctty BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 301 As soon as Isaac Comnenus was safe behind the walls of his citadel, he sent a message to request a conference with king Richard, who expected that he had a Kttle lowered the despot's pride; but when they met, Isaac was so ftdl of vapouring and boasting, that he ehcited from his illustrious auditor an aside in Enghsh; and as Coeur de Lion then uttered the only words in our language he ever was known to speak, it is well they have been recorded by chronicle: — ''Ha, de debil!" exclaimed king Richard; "he speke like a fole Breton."' As Isaac and Richard could not come to any terms of pacification, the desp it retreated to a stronghold in a neigh- bouring mountain : while Richard, after making a speech to the Londoners, (we hope in more choice Enghsh than the above,) instigating them to the storm of the Cypriot capital ^rith promise of plunder, led them on to the attack, axe in hand. The Londoners easily captured Limoussa. Directly the coast was clear of Isaac and his myrmidons, magnificent preparations were made at Limoussa for the nuptials and coronation of king Richard and Berengaria. We are able to describe the appearance made by ti ese royal per- sonages at this high solemnity. King Richard's c^"^ me, we may suppose, varied Uttle from that in Tyhich he ga\ .jdience to the despot Isaac a day after the marriage had taken place.' " A satin tunic of rose-colour was belted round his waist ; his mantle was of striped silver tissue, brocaded Avith silver half- moons ; his sword, of fine Damascus steel, had a hilt of gold, and a silver-scaled sheath: on his head he wore a scarlet bonnet, brocaded in gold with figures of animals. He bore a truncheon in his hand. His Spanish steed """'a led before him, saddled and bitted with gold, and the saaule was inlaid with precious stones ; two little golden lions were fixed on it, in the place of a crupper : they were figured with their paws raised, in act to strike each other. In this attire," Vinisauf ^ Piers of Ijongtoft. Tliia speech implic-d no offence to ths English, bit was r: unt ns a reproach to the Bretons, who are to this day proverbial in France for tiicir wilftihicss. Besides.. Richard was bitter against the Bretons, who deprived him of the society of his then acknowledged heir, Arthur, their young dulic.— Vinisauf. ' Viiiisaul'. ) ,11 i 1 : 11 11 I i 'I 1^ 302 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. adds, ''Richard, who had yellow curls, a bright complexion, and a figure hke Mars himself, appeared a perfect model of military and manly grace." The eflfigy of queen Berengaria, at E»pan, certainly presents her as a hride, — a circumstance which is ascertained by the flowin;, i, c e. , royal matrons always wearing their hair covered; >> else closely braided. Her hair is parted, h la vierge, on the brow ; a transparent veil, open on each side like the Spanish mantillas, hangs behind, and covers the rich tresses at their length: the veil is confined by a regal diadem, of pecuhar splendoirv <^.^C^a with several bands of gems, and surmounted by fleurs-de-hs, to which so much fohage is added as to give it the appearance of a double crown, — perhaps because she was crowned queen of Cj^rus as well as England. Our antiquaries aflfirm, that the pecuhar character of Beren- garia's elegant but singular style of beauty brings conviction to every one who looks on her effigy, that it is a carefully finished portrait.' At his marriage, king Bichard proclaimed a grand feast. "To Limoussa the lady was led, his feas^ 'ie king did cry, Berengere wiU be wed, and sojourn theruoy, The third day of the feast, bishop Bernard of Bayonne Renewed oft the geste, to the queen he gave the crown.'"' "And there, in the joyous month of May, 1191," says ai ancient writer, " in the flourishing and spacious isle of Cyprus, celebrated a^ the very abode of the goddess of love, did king Bichard tiolemnly take to wife his beloved lady Berengaria." By I.' e coiiisent of iiie Cypriots, wearied of Isaac's tyranny, and by the advice of the aUiod crusaders who came to assist at his .".U|.tials, Bichard was c; )wned king of Cyprus, and his bride, queen of England and Cyprus, Soon after, the faii* ' iress of Cyprus, daughter to the despot Isaac, came anf* lirew herself at the feet of Richard. " Lord king," she sair" laV' mercy on me !" when the king cour- teously put fortli his hand to lift her from the ground, and sent hor to his wife and his sister Joanna. As many historical ' See portrait. « Sliiv 12th; Howfl'H riiTiinicle ". iP-i, A ■ f r BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 303 scandals are afloat necting the Cypriot princess, implying that Richard; capti\ cd by the distressed beauty, from that moment forsook his queen, it is weU to observe the words of an eye-witness,' who declares "that Richard sent the lady directly to his queen, from whom she never parted tiU after their return to Europe." The surrender of the Cypriot princess was followed by the capture of her father, whom the king of England bound in silver chains, richly gilt, and pre- sented to queen Berengaria as her captive.* After the conclusion of the nuptials and coronation of Berengaria, her royal bridegroom once more hoisted his flag on his good galley Trenc-the-mere, and set sail, in beautiful summer weather, for Palestine. Berengaria and her sister-in- law again embarked under the protection of sir Stephen de Tumham, such e cort being safer than companionship with the warlike Richard. Their gaUey made the port of Acre before the Trenc-the-mere, " On their arrival at Acre, though," says Bernard le Tresorier, " it was very grievous to the king of France to know that Richard was married to any other than liis sister ; yet he received Berengaria with great courtesy, taking her in his arms, and lifting her on shore himself from the boat to the beach." Richard appeared before Acre on the long bright day of St. Barnabas, when the whole aUied army, elated by the naval victory he had won by the way, marched to the beach to welcome their champion. "The earth shook with footsteps of the Christians, and the sound of their shouts." * The Proven9al metrical historian, who is the guide of Piers of Langtoft. * Isaac afterwards entered among the Templars, and died in their order. Richard presented his island to Guy de Lusignan, Ms merid, as a compensation for the loss of Jerusalem. This dethronement of Isaac Hiid the captivity of hia daughter was the origin of Richard's imprisonmi;!)! in (iermany, as we shall presently see. ^ The king's arrival was delayed by a naval battle with a rich Saracen argosy, which he captured with great plunder. The manoeuvres of the Trenc-the-mcro are thus descril' I by the Proven9al ; likewise the casting of the Greek fire :>— •♦ The king's own galley, he called it Trenc-the-mere ; It was first under weigh, and came that ship full near, VVho threw her buckets out. The galley to her drew. The king stood fiill stout, and many of them slew, Though wild fire they caai." i 304 BERENGARIA OF NAVAREE. il* When Acre was taken, Richard estaWiohed his queen and sister safely there. They remained at Acag ',vith the Cypriot princess during the whole of the Syrian campaign, under the care of Richard's castellans, Bertrand de Verdun and Stephen de Munchenis. To the left of the mosque at Acre are the ruins of a palace, called to this day 'king Richard's palace:" this was doubtless the abode of Berengaria. There is not a more pleasant spot in history than the tender friendship of Berengaria and Joanna, who formed an attachment amidst the perils and terrors of storm and siege, ending only with their hves.^ How quaintly, yet expressively, is their gentle and feminine love for each other marked by the sweet simplicity of the words, — " Tliey held each other dear. And lived as doves in cage !" noting, at the same time, the harera-hke seclusion in which the royal ladies dwelt while sharing the crusade campaign. It was from the citadel of Acre that Richard tore down the banner of Leopold archduke of Austria, who, by aUiance with the family of the Comneni, was related to the Cypriot lady. Her captivity was the real matter of dispute, as the scandals which connected her name with that of king Richard seemed to touch the honour of the house of Austria. We have httle space to dwell on Richard's deeds of romantic valour in Palestine, on the capture of Ascalon, or the battle of Jaffa, before which city was killed Richard's good steed, named Fanuelle, whose feats in battle are nearly as much celebrated by the troubadours as those of his master.^ After the death of Fanuelle, Richard was obhged to fight on foot. * Dr. Clarke's Travels. The tradition is that Richard huilt the palace j but he had no time for any such work. The architecture is Saracenic, and it was doubtless a palace of the resident emir of Acre. ' Madame Cottin, in her celebrated but florid romance of Mathilde, has some faint idea that a sister of Richard's shared his crusade with Berengaria; but neither that lady nor sir Walter Scott seem aware which princess of England was the person. ^ By some called Favelle, probably Flavel, meaning yellow-coloured. Vinisauf declares this peerless charger was taken among the spoils of Cyprus, with another named Lyard. Tlie cavaliers in ancient times named their steeds from their colour, as Bayard, bay-colour; Lyard, grey; Ferraunt, black as iron; Flavel, yellow, or very light sorrel. U ' BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 305 The courteous Saladin, who saw him thus battling, was shocked that so accomplished a cavalier should be dismounted, and sent him, as a present, a magnificent Arab charger. Richard had the precaution to order one of his knights to moimt the charger first. The headstrong beast no sooner found a stranger on his back, than he took the bit between his teeth, and, refiising all control, galloped back to his own quarters, carrying the Chris- tian knight into the midst of Saladin's camp. If king Richard had ridden the wilful animal, he would, in hke manner, have been at the mercy of the Saracens. Saladin was so much ashamed of the misbehaviour of his present, that he could scarcely look up while he apologized to the Christian knight, for it appeared as if he had laid a trap for the hberty of king Richard. He sent back the knight mounted on a more manage- able steed, on which Richard rode to the end of the campaign/ King Richard, during his Syrian campaign, was once within sight of Jerusalem, but never took it. While his queen Beren- garia sojourned at Acre, an incident befell him, of which De Joinville, the companion in arms of St. Louis, has thus pre- served the memory: — " In those times, when Hugh duke of Burgundy^ and king Richard of England were abiding at Acre, they received intelligence that they might take Jerusalem if they chose, for its garrison had gone to the assistance of Damascus. They accordingly marched toAvards the holy city, the Enghsh king's battalions leading the way, while Burgundy's force brought up the rear. But when Richard drew near to Jerusalem, intelligence was brought him that the duke of Bur- gundy had turned back with his division, out of pure envy, that it might not be said that the king of England had taken Jerusalem. As these tidings were being discussed, one of the Enghsh knights cried out, — ' Sire, sire ! only come hither, and I will show you Jerusalem.' But the king, throwing down his weapons, said, with tears in his eyes and hands up- lifted to heaven, — 'All, Lord God! I pray thee that I may never see thy holy city Jerusalem since things thus happen, ' Chronicle of Bernard le Tr^sorier. - Philin Anoiistna and the duke of Anstria decamped firom the crusade at Cesai-ea. Hugh of Burgundy commanded the remnant of the French forces. VOL. I. X I 306 BERENGAMA OF NAVARRE. i\ I ■i 'Al and since I cannot deliver it &om the hands of thine enemies !' Richard could do nothing more than retmn to his queen and sister at Acre. " You must know that this king Richard performed such deeds of prowess when he was in the Holy Land, that the Saracens, on seeing their horses frightened at a shadow or a hush, cried out to them, 'What! dost think Melec-Ric is there?' This they we-^e accustomed to say from the many times he had vanquished them. In hke manner, when the children of Turks or Saracens cried, their mothers said to them, ' Hush, hush! or I will give you to king Richard;' and from the terror of these words the babes were instantly quiet." ' The final tiiice between Richard and Saladin was concluded in a fair flowery meadow' near Mount Tabor, where Richard was so much charmed with the gaUant bearing of the ' prince of Miscreants,' as Saladin is civilly termed in the crusaxling treaties, that he declared he would rather be the friend of tliat brave and honest pagan, than the ally of the crafty Pliihp or the brutal Leopold. It is a tradition, often cited in modem romance, but yrithcut historical foundation, that Richard offered the hand of his sister, queen Joanna, to Saladin's brother. Melee Adhel. The autiunn of 1192 had commenced when king Richard concluded his peace with Saladin, and prepared to return, covered with fruitless glory, to his native dominions. A mys- terious estrangement had, at this time, taken place between him and Berengaria; yet the chroniclers do not mention that any rival had supplanted the queen, but merely that accidents of war had divided him from her company. As for the Cypriot princess, if he were estranged from Ids queen, he must like- wise have been separated from the fair captive, since she always remained ^vith Berengaria. The king bade farewell to his queen and sister, and saw them embju-k the very evening of his own departure. Tlie queens, accomiianied ])y the Cyi)riot ' Juinville's words ore thus pnrni)lirn.st'(l hy Dry'lcn : — "No more St'biwt inn's f'drinidiiMo naim> Ib longer uwd to still the crying lmb<;." " i'iurs Largtof* BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 307 enemies V ueeu and ned such that the dow or a ec-Ric is he many when the said to wd'/ and j^ quiet."' ioncluded Richard 5 'prince ;rusading id of tliat Phihp or I modem •d offered brother, Richard ) return, Amys- between tion that accidents 3 Cy])riot lUst like- e always II to his ening of Cyi)riot princess, sailed from Acre, under the care of Stephen de Tumham, September the 29th. Richard meant to return by a dijBFerent route across Europe. He travelled in the disguise of a Templar, and embarked in a sliip belongujg to the master of the Temple. This vessel was wrecked off the coast of Istria, wliich forced Richard to proceed homewards through the domains of his enemy, Leopold of Austria. To his ignorance of geography is attributed his near approach to Leopold's capital. After several narrow escapes, a page, sent by Richard to purchase provisions at a village near Vienna, was recognised by an officer who had made the late crusade with Leopold. The boy was seized, and, after enduring cruel torments, he confessed where he had left his master. When Leopold received certain intelhgence where Richard harboured, the inn was searched, but not a soul found there who bore any appearance of a king. " No," said the host, " there is no one here hke him whom you seek, without he be the Templar in the kitchen, now turning the fowls which are roasting for dinner." The officers of Leopold took the hint and went into the kitchen, where, in fact, was seated a Templar very busy turning the spit. The Austrian chevaher, who had served in the crusade, knew him, and said quickly, " There he is : seize him !" Caeur de Lion started from the spit, and did battle for his hberty right vaUantly, but was overborne by numbers.' The revengeful Leopold immediately imprisoned his gallant enemy, and immiu-ed him so closely in a Styrian castle called Teneb^'euse, that for months no one knew whether the hon-hcarted king was ahve or dead. Richard, whose heroic name was the theme of admiration in Eiu'one, and the burden of every song, seemed vanished from the face of the earth. Better fortune attended the vessel that bore the fair freight of the three royal ladies. Stephen de Turnham's galley arrived without accident at Naples, where Berengaria, Joanna, and the Cypnot princess landed safely, and, under the care of sir Stcplicn, journeyed to Rome. The Provcn9al traditions t^nolnff* fhnf hovPi Rprfrsf'siria fir«>t ^nn\t tlio nhirni ihnt Sdnic \AW»«ft v. bAAC«l/ lAVyll^ J^\^& VfA«|^«*& A.V ' TraiiBlukd from IJcniard lo Tn'sorier.— Guizoi's turouidcs. \2 308 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. J: » ! disaster had happened to her lord, from seeing a belt of jewels offered for sale wliich she knew had been on his person when she parted from him. At Rome she UkeAvise heard some vague reports of his shipwreck, and of the enmity of the emperor Henry VI.' Berengaria was detained at Rome, with the princesses her companions, by her fear of the emperor, for upwards of half a year. At length the pope, moved by her distress and earnest entreaties, sent them, under the care of messire Mellar, one of the cardinals, to Pisa, whence they proceeded to Genoa, where they took shipping to Marseilles. " At Mar- seilles Berengaria was met by her friend and kinsman the king of Arragon, who showed the royal ladies every mark of reverence, gave them safe-conduct through his Proveu9al do- mains, and sent them on, imder the escort of the count de Sancto Egidio." This Egidio is doubtless the crusader Ray- mond count St. Gnies, who, travelling from Rome with a strong escort, offered his protection to the distressed (jueens of England and Sicily; and though his father, the count of Thoulouse, had dming Richard's crusade invaded Guienne, and drawn on liimself a severe cluistisement from Ikrengaria's faithful brother, Sancho the Strong, yet the young count so well acquitted himself of his charge, that he won the affections of the fair widow, queen Joanna, on the journey.- The attach- ment of these lovers healed the enmity that had long subsisted between the house of Aquitaine and that of the counts of Thoulouse, on account of the superior claims of queen Eleanorn on that great fief When Eleanora found the love that sub- sisted between her youngest chUd and the lieir of Thoulouse, she conciliated his father by giving up her rights to her (laughter, and Berengaria had the satisfaction of seeing her two friends united after she arrived at Poitou.' Now queen Berengaria is left safely in her o\vn dominions, it is time to return to her unfortunate lord, who seems to have Ix'cn dratined, by the nudice of Leopold, to a life-long ' HovciU-n's Chronicle. ' Hopor Ilovodon, fol. 447. • I'iiTJi of liiiiifftofl wiyH thiit. kinjj Uicliiird iM-trothotl his* hIsIit to tlic lioroic crustt Iviii^; Kiehard, beinp in jirison, to have devoin-ed liini ; and when the 1/on was pajiinp, he jiut his arm in his mouth aniK', to aiyust some d'sputeb conceniing the archlushopilc of York. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 313 pe Celes- )ique hmi s judgment- ither! draw K)se set over [■ CiBsar, the the imperial ligently? or ;he shepherd the fiock in ibstinence iicts, ter- irfare, she ies, which je availed ) Peter of ; was too s, and say forward •" n legates. because they /^enues of his ladulfi,^ with ly simplicity th in the were no ) thee : thou the cause of ne time save iithcr, or the sy of tlio r German •or llenrv ion of the 10 crusade, 'oui Mos> decided at the present day. The explanation of the party terms, Guolph and its antithesis Gb'bilino, is thus very 8inii)li'; but without such comprehension, Eleanora's reproHchoH of the po]Xi seem without aim or meaning, — nay, common sense w( iild lead the reader i^^ snpjxjse that the (|uc(.'n, by her McorntUl abuse, must have made an irrocoiioilable enemy of the jxiik". Eleanora, however, well knew her tactics : she knew that pojw Celestine dared not 1)0 identifisd with the Qhibiliue or Germanic party against the ft'eedom of the chxu'cu. 314 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. ■ 1 ! 1 Queen Eleanora summoned her favourite grandson, Otho of Guelph, the representative of that heroic hne, an,d withal her deputy in Aquitaine, to the aid of his uncle Richard ; and he hastened, nothing loath, tc the German congress, that he might give Coeur de Lion the aid of his formidable name, and the sanction of his great office as hereditary guardian of the liberties of the church. When queen Eleanora and the chief justiciary ascertained the place in which Richard was detained, they sent two abbots to confer with him in Germany. They met him, with his guards, on the road to Worms, where a diet of the empire was soon to be held, and were received bv him with his usual spirit and animation. He inquired into the state of his friends, his subjects, and his dominions, and particularly after the health of the king of Scotland, on whose honour, he said, he entirely rehed; and certainly he was not deceived in his judgment of the character of that hero. On heaiing of the base conduct of his brother John, he was shocked and looked grave ; but presently recovering his cheerfulness, he said, with a smile, " My brother John was never made for conquering Idngdoms !"^ Richard defended himself before the diet with eloquence and pathos that drew tears from most of iiis hearers ; and the mediation of the princes of the empire induced the emperor to accept, as ransom, one hundred thousand marks of silver. Meantime the ransom was collected in England, Normandy, and Aquitaine, to which queen Eleanora largely contributed. She again received a tithe of queen-gold to a large amount. She had taken one hundred marks out of every thousand raised for her son's marriage, and now she claimed the tenth of his ransom, although she certainly gave it, with much more, as her contribution towards liis freedom. The monks of Bury, having obtained the restoration of their gold cup through her j;enerosity, resolved to act the same part again, for they were amerced in the enormous sum of a thousand marks as their quota for Richard's ransom. As they had no money, they ycut in the whole of their church i)latc in payment. Again » Hovetlcu, BEBENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 315 , Otho of vithal her I; and he ; he might 'i, and the in of the scertained wo abbots , with his ie empire his usual is friends, after the 3 said, he ed in his Qg of the nd looked said, with onquering diet with 5 hearers j iuced the id marks ormandy, ntributed. i amount, thousand the tenth iich more, 3 of Bury, cough her they were s as their ney, they Again it is recorded that Eleanora, the queen-regent, was personally superintending the registration of the money and valuables that came into the treasury of her son. " Now,'^ pursues the Bury clironicler, " it v- .^ queen Eleanora's right, by the law of the land, to receive a hundred marks whensoever the kmg is paid a ti' *» sand. So she took up this gold cup and gave it back to us once more, for the benefit of the soul of her dear lord, king Henry II."' The adventures of this gold cup (which are not yet concluded) offer the most practical illustration of the natuj'e of the claims of the queens of England on the auruni reginrB yet discovered. When the first instalment of king Richard's ransom was ready, liis affectionate mother and the chief justiciary set out for Germany, a httle before Christmas. She was accompanied by her grand-daughter Eleanora, sumamed ' the Pearl of Brit- tany.' This young princess was promised, by the ransom- treaty, in mai'riage to the heir of Leopold of Austria.^ The Cypriot princess was hkewise taken from the keeping of queen Berengaria, on the demand of the emperor, and escorted by queen Eleanora to the German congrti'ss, where she was 3ur- rendered to her Austrian relatives. It was owing to the exertions of the gaUant Guelphic pria- ces, his relations, that the actual hberation of Coeur de Lion was at last effected- Henry the Lion, duke of Saxony,'' and his sons, appeared before the 'Let, and pleaded the cause of the English hero with the most passionate eloquence ; they pledged their credit for the payment of the remainder of his ransom, and actually left WUliam of Winchester, the youngest Guelphic prince, in pawn with the emperor for the rest of the ransom. After an absence of four years, three months, and nine days, king Ilichard landed at Sr.ndwich, in April, the Sunday after St. George's-day, in company with his royal motlier, who had the pleasure of surrendering to him liis dominions, both insular and continental, without dir inution. ' Chronicle of Jos( line do Brakelonde. ^ The marriage-contract was afterwards broken. ' Her majesty (lueen ^'ietoria is the representative of this preat and peneroiis prince; and at the same tir. o, from his wife Matilda, eldest dautjhterof Tli'iiry II., .1 ,\ V iiciiVuB a BctuiiU ulrCct nCsi'i.'r 111! liiu iiOUiiu of Fluiilugtiiul. I •f .■' . f, ■ 316 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. • Eleanora*s detention of the princess Alice in No i .andy had drawn on that country a fierce invasion from Philip Augi'^tu^, the result of which would have been doubtful if the tears of Berengaria, then newly arri^ i d in Aquitaine, had not prevailed on her noble brother, Saiir;ho »ihe Strong, to traverse France with two hundred choice knights. By the valour of this hero, and his chivalric reinforcement, Normandy was deHvered from the king of France.^ Berengaria, during the imprisonment of her royal husband, lost her father, Sancho the Wise, king of Navarre, who died in 1194/ after a glorious reign of forty-four years. After a second coronation, Richard went in progress throughout England, with his royal mother, to sit in judgment on those castellans who had betrayed their fortresses to his brother John : by the advice of his mother they were treated with much lenity. At all these councils queen Eleanora assisted him, being regarded with the utmost reverence, and sitting in state at his right hand. Probably in the same progress, king Richard sold the manor of MildenhaU to the nxonks of Bury St. Edmund's. Queen Eleanora made a claim of li^r aurum regime, or queen-gold, on the sum paid to her sou. Once more the wily ecclesiastics, knowing the good Hirrvice the gold cup of Henry II. had done for them, sent it in as part of payment, protesting their utter inabihty otherwise to make up the price. Queen Eleanora was present, for the purpose of asserting her claim on the tenth of the gold ; but when she saw, for the third time, her old acquaintance the gold cup, she was somewhat disturbed in spirit, deeming that her generosity was played upon. It is true she redeemed the gift of her husband, but she required from the monks of Bury a solemn promise " that, for the time to come, the gold cup of Henry II. should be held sacred, and never again be set for sale or laid in pledge."'' Wlien the king, in the course of liis progress, arrived in Normandy, queen Eleanora introduced into his chamber prince John, who knelt at his royal brother's feet for pardon. Richard raised him, with this magnanimous expression : " I forgive ' Tyrrcii. ^ History of Navarre. ' Joscellne de Brakeloudij. BERENGARIA OP NAVARRE. 317 you, John; and I wish I could as easily forget your oflFence, as you wiU my pardon/' King Richard finished his proii^iess by residing some months in his Angevin territories. Although he was in tho vicinity of the loving and faithful Beren^aria, he did not return to her society. The reason of thie strai ^^ement was, that the king had renewed his connexion wi*^" a number of profligate and worthless associates, tb^ c^ S^ '# iV 4 6^ 318 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. I the revenue devoted to the poor, he must have liis wilfiil way. Bichaxd pocketed the money, hut some time after sent for the fur-mantle. St. Hugh set out for Normandy, to remonstrate with the king on this double extortion. His friends anticipated that he would he kiUed ; but St. Hugh said, " I fear him not," and boldly entered the chapel where Richard was at mass, when the following scene took place. " Give me the embrace of peace, my son,'* said St. Hugh. " That you have not deserved," rephed the king. " Indeed I have," said St. Hugh, " for I have made a long journey on purpose to see my son." So saying, he took hold of the king's sleeve, and drew him on one side. Richard sKuled, and embraced the old man. They withdrew to the recess behind the altar, and sat down. " In what state is your conscience?" asked the bishop. "Very easy," answered the king. " How can that be, my son," said the bishop, " when you Uve apart from your virtuous queen, and are faithless to her? when you devour the provision of the poor, and load your people with heavy exactions ? Are these hght transgressions, my son ?" The king owned his faults, and promised amendment ; and when he related this conversa- tion to his courtiers, he added, — " Were all our prelates hke Hugh of Lincoln, both king and barons must submit to their righteous rebukes !"' Whether the interview >vith St. Hugh took place before or after the king's alarming iUness, we have no data to declare ; but as Richard was evidently in a tamer state when St. Hugh visited him than when he lawlessly demanded the fur-mantle, we think the good bishop must have arrived opportunely, just as Richard was begiiming to forget his sick-bed vows, without quite relapsing into his original recklessness. The final restoration of Berengaria to the affections of her royal husband took place a few months after, when Richard proceeded to Poictiers,* where he was reconciled to his queen, and kept Christmas and the new year of 1196 in that city, with princely state and hospitality. It was a year of great scarcity and famine, and the beneficent queen exerted her restored infiuence over the heart of the king, by persuading ' Uorruigtoii. ' Kigoril, French Chron. BERENGAEIA OF NAVARRE. 819 ilfiil way. nt for the monstrate inticipated him not," I at mass, e embrace have not St. Hugh, my son." jw him on an. They In "Very Baid va. son » )us queen, sion of the Are these his faults, conversa- elates hke it to their St. Hugh J, we have Q a tamer lawlessly (hop must ;iiining to into his ms of her [I Richard lis queen, that city, • of great crted her ersuading m. him to give all his superfluous money in bountiM alms to the poor, and through her goodness many were kept jfrom perish- ing. From that time queen Berengaria and king Richard were never parted. She found it best to accompany him in all his campaigns, and we find her with him at the hour of his death. Higden, in the Polychronicon, gives this testimony to the love that Berengaria bore to Richard : " The king took home to him his queen Berengaria, whose society he had for a long time neglected, though she were a royal, eloquent, and beau- teous lady, and for his love had ventured with him through the world." The same year the king, despairing of heirs by his consort, sent for young Arthur, duke of Bretagne, that the boy might be educated at his court as &ture king of England. His mother Constance, out of enmity to queen Eleanora, unwisely refused this request, and she finished her foUy by declaring for the king of France, then waging a fierce war against Richard. This step cost her hapless child his inheritance, and finally his life. From this time Richard acknowledged his brother John as his heir. The remaining three years of Richard's life were spent in petty provincial wars with the king of France. In one of his treaties the princess Alice was at last surrendered to her brother, who gave her, with a tarnished reputation and the dowry of the county of Ponthieu, in mar- riage to the count of Aumerle, when she had arrived at her thirty-fifth year. After the reconciliation between Richard nrd Berengaria, the royal revenues arising from the tin-m'-iies in Cornwall' and Devon, valued at two thousand marks per annum, were confirmed to the queen for her dower. Her continental dower was the whole county of Bigorre, and the city of Mans. It was the lively imagination of Richard, heated by the splendid fictions of Arabian romance, that hurried him to his end. A report was brought to him that a peasant, ploughing in the fields of Vidomar, lord of Chaluz, in Aquitaine, had F.truck upon a trnp-door, wliich concealed an enchanted treasure;'^ * Kyiner'B Foedcra. ' Brompton. Newbury. Hennningford. VVikes. 320 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. |i!l going down into a cave, he discovered several golden statues, with vases full of diamonds, aU of which had been secured in the castle of Chaluz, for the private use of the sieui' de Vidomar. Richard, when he heard this fine tale, sent to Vidomar, demanding, as sovereign of the country, his share of the golden statues. The poor castellan declared that no such treasure had been found ; nothing but a pot of Roman coins had been discovered, and those he was welcome to have. As Richard had set his mind upon golden statues and vases of diamonds, and had thriven so well when he demanded the golden fur- niture from king Tancred, it was not probable he could lower his ideas to the reahty stated by the unfortunate lord of Vidomar. Accordingly, he marched to besiege the castle of Chaluz, sending word to Vidomar, either to dehver the statues, or abide the storming of the castle. To this siege queen Berengaria certainly accompanied the king. Here Richard met his death, being pierced from the walls by an arrow from an arbahsta, or cross-bow, aimed by the hand of Bertrand de Gordon.' It was the unskilfuhiess of the surgeon, who mangled tha king's shoulder in cutting out the arrow, joined to Richard's own wilfulness in neglecting the regimen of his physicians, that caused the mortification of a trifling wound and occasioned the death of a hero, who^ to many faults, joined a redeeming generosity that show ;8elf in his last moments. After enduring gi'eat agony ^^ ,m his wound, as he drew near to death the castle of Chaluz was taken. He caused Bertrand de Gordon to be brought before him, and teUing him he was dying, asl'^ed him whether he had dis- charged the fatal arrow with the intention of slaying him. " Yes, tyrant," replied Gordon ; " for to you I owe the deaths of my father and my brother, and my first wish was to be revenged on you." Notwithstanding the boldness of this avowal, the dying king commanded Gordon to be set at liberty, and it was not his fault that his detestable mercenary genersU, the Fleming Marcade, caused liim to be put to a cruel death. Richard's death took place April 6th, 1199. His queen ^ We find who name of Qordon among the sirventes of Bertrand de Bom. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 321 n statues, red in the Vidomar. Vidomar, he golden b treasure had been 5 Richard diamonds, olden fur- )uld lower ;e lord of e castle of he statues, ege queen »e Richard irrow from ertrand de »eon, who pw, joined nen of his ing wound any faults, in his last wound, as cen. He him, and had dis- lying him. the deaths was to be iss of this be set at mercenary 5 put to a His queen 1 do Born. unquestionably was with him when he died.' She corro- borated the testimony that he left his dominions, and two- thirds of his treasures, to his brother John. Richard appears to have borne some personal resemblance to his great uncle, WiUiam Rufiis. Like him, his hair and complexion were warm in colour, and his eyes blue, and fiercely sparkling. Like Rufus, his strength was prodigious, but he had the advantage of a tail majestic figure.'' There are some points of resemblance in character between Richard and his coDa- teral ancestor, though Richard must be considered a more learned and elegant prince, and susceptible, withal, of more frequent impulses of generosity and penitence. They both seemed to have excelled in the same species of wit and hvely repartee. At the time of king Richard's death, Matthew Paris declares queen Eleanora, his mother, was governing England, " where," adds that historian, " she was exceedingly respected and beloved." Before the body of Coeur de Lion was committed to the grave, an additional load of anguish assailed the heart of his royal widow, through the calamities that befell Joanna, her friend, and Richard's favourite sister. The same species of persecution that afterwards visited Joanna's son, in the well- known war against the Albigenses, had already been incited against his father. Owing to the secret agitations of the Catholic clergy, the barons of Thoulouse were in arms against their sovereign coimt Raymond. Queen Joanna, though in a state httle consistent with such exertions, flew to arms for the rehef of her adored lord.' We translate the foUo^ving mournful passage from Guillaume de Puy-Laureiis : — * " Queen Joanna was a woman of great courage, and was highly sensitive to the injuries of her husband. She laid siege to the castle of Casser, but, owing to the treachery of ' Sec Heinmingford. * Vinisauf. ' Unfortunately, M. Miohelot hiw given good historical pr(x>f. not only that queen Joanna was the fourth wife of count Kaymond, but that all his other countcsHcs were at that time ahvc. The low scale of morality on which Michelct places the potentates of the south of Franco, need not be attributed to any of his prejudices against royalty, because lie does better justice to the sovereigns of Frtuice at this era, than any other modern Fi-euch liiMtorian for two centuries * Guizot's Chronicles, vol. xv. p. 219. Y «UL.. 1. 322 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. i her attendants^ her camp was fired : she escaped with difficulty from the burning tents, much scorched and hurt. Unsub- dued by this accident, she hastened to lay her wrongs before her beloved brother, king Richard. She found he had just expired as she arrived. The pains of premature child-birth seized her as she heard the dire inteUigence, and she sank under the double affliction of mental and corporeal agony. With her last breath she begged to be laid near her brother Richard." To Berengaria the request was made, and the cold remains of the royal brother and sister, the dearest objects of the sorrowing queen's affections, were laid, by her pious care, side by side, in the stately abbey of Fontevraud.' The heart of Richard was bequeathed by him to be buried in the cathedral of Rouen, where it has lately been exhumed, in 1842. When the case was unclosed, the Uon-heart was found entire, but withered to the consistency of a faded leaf.^ The deaths of Richard and Joanna were immediately suc- ceeded by that of Berengaria's only sister, Blanche. This princess had been given in marriage by Coeur de Lion to his nephew and friend, the troubadour-prince Thibaut of Cham- pagne. The princess Blanche died the day after the birth of a son, who afterwards was the heir both of Sancho and Beren- garia, and finally king of Navarre. Thus, in the course of a few short weeks, was the queen of England bereft of all that were near and dear to her. The world had become a desert to Berengaria before she left it for a hfe of conventual seclusion. Queen Berengiiria fixed her residence at Mans, where she held a great part of her foreign dower. Here she founded the noble abbey of Espaii. Once Berengaria left her wi- dowed retirement, when she met her brother-in-law king John, and liis fair young bride, at Chinon, her husband's treasure-city. Here she compounded with the Enghsh ' The description of Richard's statue has been j^iven by Miss L. S. Costello in bfr charming; work, entitled The Bocco^es and the Vines. It coincides well with the desi'riptions wo have given of his person, from his contemporary Viiiisatif. ^ This is from a most interesting description of the exhumation of Richard's heart by Mr. Albert Way, in vol. xxix. Archielogio, p. 210 ; where niny be found R copy of the inscription identifyuig it as the lieurt of Richard, and likewise an nccoimt of the discovery of a fine portnut-statue, raised by the men of Rouen to tlw muuiory of their beloved hero. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 323 difficulty Unsub- gs before had just tuld-birth she sank a agony, r brother and the e dearest d, by her itevraud.' buried in lumed, in vas found af.^ \ ately suc- tie. This ion to his 3f Cham- e birth of id Beren- course of )f all that i desert to seclusion, vhere she ; founded ; her wi- law king msband's Enghsh UBtcUo in luT 8 well with iiiiHaiif. of Richard's iny be found 1 likowino tin of Uouen to monarch for the dower she held in England, for two thou- sand marks per annum, to be paid half-yearly. After being entertained with royal magnificence, and receiving every mark of respect from the Enghsh court, the royal widow bade farewell to pubhc splendour, and retired to conventual seclu- sion, and the practice of constant charity. But no sooner was John firmly fixed on the English throne, than he began to neglect the payment of the dower for which his sister-in- law had compounded; and, in 1206, there appears in the Foedera a passport for the queen-dowager to come to England for the purpose of conferring with king John. There exists no authority whereby we can prove that she arrived in this country;* but, in 1207, the pope awarded her half the personal goods of her husband. The records of 1209 present a most elaborate epistle from pope Innocent, setting forth the wrongs and wants of his dear daughter in Christ, Berengaria, who, he says, had appealed to him "with floods of tears streaming down her cheeks, and with audible cries," — wliich we trust were flowers of rhetoric of the pope's secretary. As pope Innocent threatens John with an interdict, it is pretty certain that the wrongs of Be- rengaria formed a clause in the subsequent excommunication of the felon king. Bale, in his coarse comedy of King Jehan, (of which king John is the very shabby hero,) bestows a hberal portion of reviling on Berengaria, because she was the cause of the papal interdict in that reign ; but this abuse is levelled at her under the name of queen Juhana. What connexion there was between the queen of Coeur de Lion and the name of Juhana, is difficult to ascertain, excepting that the cathedral of her city of Mans is dedicated to St. Juhan ; and when she retired from the world, she might have renounced her mun- dane appellation, and become the name-daughter of the patron saint of her city. However, Bale, who was an historical anti- quary, is certainly correct in the cause of the interdict, which arose from the non-pajrment of Berengaria's dower. By the theological speeches he puts into the mouth of king John, he ' Ryincr's Foedera, vol. i. p. 162. Tlicso paBsports, or safe-conducts, occur very frequently iu this collection, for the benefit of persoua who never used them. y2 324 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. \l I 1 I I i\ seems aware of his studies of Arian, and of the Mahometan tendencies of the princes and nobles of the south of France.* In 1214, when the excommunication was taken off, there exists a letter from John to " his dear sister, the illustrious Berengaria, praying that the pope's nuncio might arbitrate what was due to her." The next year brings a piteous letter from John, praying that his dearly beloved sister wiU excuse his delay of payment, seeing the '- greatness of his adversity by reason of the wickedness of his magnates and barons," who had invited prince Louis of France to spoil her estates ; " but when," says king John, " these clouds that have overcast our serenity shall disperse, and our kingdom be fiill of joyful tranquillity, then the pecuniary debt owed to our dear sister shall be paid joyfully and thankfully." This precious epistle was penned July 8th, 1216, by John ; but he died the suc- ceeding October, and Berengaria's debt was added to the vast sum of his other trespasses, for "joyful tranqmlhty" never came for him, nor of course her time of payment. King John being deprived of the duchy of Normandy, Berengaria was forced to petition Philip Augustus, king of France, concerning her rights of dower there : as the widow of his late feudatory, she was given the county of Maine in compensation. A singular circumstance proves ihat Beren- garia exercised sovereignty over this province. In the year 1216 she presided in person, as countess of Maine, August 23, being the eve of St. Bartholomew, as judge of a duel which took place between two champions ; one defending the honour of a demoiselle, the other, who was the brother of the poor girl, having assailed her reputation in order to claim her por- tion.* The result of this interesting appeal of battle we are unable to relate. In the reign of Henry III. Berengaria had again to require the pope's assistance for the payment of her annuity. Her arrears at that time amounted to 4,040/. sterling ; but the Templars became guarantees and agents for her payments, ' Michelet, in his Hist, of France, has given the most luminous information roliitive to the cause of the civil wars which rnfycd there for more than a century. '■^ L'Art de Verifier les Dates, tome xiii. p. 102 i from Courvoissier. f'l BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 325 ahoiaetan France.' off, there Illustrious arbitrate ous letter ill excuse adversity barons," r estates ; B overcast . of joyful tear sister )us epistle I the suc- the vast ty" never formandy, 3, king of ;he widow Maine in at Beren- the year ugust 23, uel which le honoiu* the poor her por- le we are o require ty. Her but the payments, information .n a century. and from that time the pecuniary troubles of Berengaria cease to form a feature in our national records. The letters of Berengaria, claiming her arrears of dower from Henry III., are probably from her own pen, as they are in a very different style from those of her ecclesiastical scribe, previously quoted. Contrary to the assumption of royalty perpetually insisted on by her arrogant sister-in-law Isabella, the dowager of John, Berengaria speaks of her exaltation as a matter passed by, and terms herself " the humble queen of England.'^ Addressing herself to the bishop, Peter de Roche, chancellor during Henry III.'s minority, Berengaria says,— " To our venerable father in Christ, and most cordial friend, Peter, by God's grace bishop of Winchester, Berengaria, by the same grace formerly the humble queen of England, wishes health and every good thing. " We send to you our well-beloved friar Walter, of the Cistercian order, the bearer of these presents, beseeching you humbly and devotedly, with all the humiUty that we can, that in reference to this present feast of All Saints, (as well as to other terms now past,) you will cause us to be satisfied about the money due to us according to the composition of our dower, which by your mediation we made with our brother John, of happy memory, formerly king of England. Fare you well !" The EngUsh regency had the jointures of two queen- dowagers to pay, and certainly too much trouble was not taken to satisfy either. Again friar Walter was despatched, in 1225, to receive the dues of his royal mistress, and was the bearer of another epistle, this time addressed to the young king from his aunt : — " To her lord and dearest nephew, by God's grace the illustrious king of England, lord of Ireland, duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, and earl of Ar ; 'i Berengaria, by the same grace formerly the humble queen of England, wit^C; health and prosperous success to his utmost desires. " We requested you by our letters-patent sent to you by friar Walter, de persona, our chaplain of the Cistercian order, that you would send to us by the said friar Walter and master Simon, our clerks, 1000 marks sterling, which you owe us at this feast of All Saints,* according to the composition of our dowry solemnly drawn out between us and you. But since the said master Simon, being detained by sickness, cannot come over to you, we send in his stead our servant Martin, the bearer of these presents, earnestly requesting you to send us the thousand marks by the said friar Walter and by this Martin, or by one of them, if by any chance impediment both of them cannot come to you. In testimony of which we send you our present letters-patent. " Given at Mans, the Sunday next before the fea«t of the apostles Simon and Jude, in the month of October, in the year of our Lord 1225."* ' All Saints' -day is the Ist of November, which it would have been before a letter dated at Mans, October 25, could reach England. ^ Close Rolls. 326 BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. ! Henry III. ordered his treasurer and chamberlains to deliver from his treasury to friar "Walter, chaplain to queen Beren- gaiia, and to Martin her servant, one thousand marks, which he owed to her at the term of the Ascension of our Lord.' The date of Berengaria^s death has generally been fixed about the year 1330 ; but that was only the year of the com- pletion of her abbey of Espan, and of her final retirement from the world; as from that time she took up her abode within its walls, and finished there her blameless hfe, at an advanced age, some years afterwards. In the High-street of Mans is an antique and curious structure, embellished with bas-reUefs : the people of the city call it, to this day, queen Berengaria^s house or palace. The name is older than the building itself, which is of the architecture of the fifteenth century. Berengaria's dower-palace assuredly stood on the site of this house. Berengaria was interred in her own stately abbey. The following most interesting particulars of her monument we transcribe from the noble work of the late Mr. Stothard, edited by his accomphshed widow, now Mrs. Bray. " When Mr. Stothard visited the abbey of Espan, near Mans, in search of the effigy of Berengaria, he found the church con- verted into a bam, and the object of his inquiry in a muti- lated state, concealed under a quantity of wheat. It was in excellent preservation, with the exception of the left arm. By the effigy were lying the bones of the queen, the silent witnesses of the sacrilegious demoHtion of the tomb. After some search, a portion of the arm belonging to the statue was recovered." Three men, who had assisted in the work of destruction, stated " that the monument, with the figure upon it, stood in the centre of the aisle, at the east end of the church; that there was no coffin within it, but a small square box, con- taining bones, pieces of hnen, some stuff embroidered with gold, and a slate, on which was found an inscription." The slate was found in possession of a canon of the church of St. Julian, at Mans : upon it was engraven an inscription, of which the following is a translation: "The tomb of the most serene » Close Rolls. BERENGARIA OF NAVARRE. 327 to deliver a Beren- ks, which Lord.' leen fixed the com- etirement ler abode life^ at an i-street of shed with [ay, queen than the ! fifteenth )d on the )ey. The ament we Stothard, "When Mans, in lurch con- n a muti- It was in arm. By t witnesses fter some ;atue was work of gure upon he church; B box, con- with gold, The slate St. Julian, which the )st serene Berengaria, queen of England, the noble founder of this monastery, was restored and removed to this more sacred place. In it were deposited the bones which were found in the ancient sepulchre, on the 27th May, in the year of our Lord 1672." The sides of the tomb are ornamented with deep quatrefoils. The eflfigy which was upon it is in high relief. It represents the queen with her hair unconfined, but partly concealed by the coverchef, over which is placed an elegant crown. Her mantle is fastened by a narrow band crossing her breast; a large fermaU, or brooch, richly set with stones, confines her tunic at the neck. To an ornamental girdle, which encircles her waist, is attached a small aumoniere, or purse. This greatly resembles a modem reticule, with a chain and clasped top. " The queen holds in her hand a book, singular from the circumstance of its having embossed on the cover a second representation of herself, as lying on a bier, with waxen torches burning in candlesticks on either side of her." From early youth to her grave Berengaria manifested devoted love for Richard. Uncomplaining when deserted by him, forgiving when he returned, and faithful to his memory unto death, the royal Berengaria, queen of England, though never in England, httle deserves to be forgotten by any admirer of feminine and conjugal virtue. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME, QUEEN-CONSORT OP KING JOHN. Isabella the betrothed of Hugh de Lusignan — Parents — Inheritance — Isabella abducted by king John — Marriage to king John — Challenge of count Hugh — > Queen's arrival in England — Recognition — Coronation — Arrival at Rouen — Luxury — Conclusion of Eleanoraof Aquitaine's bi(^raphy — Besieged — Relieved by king John — He captures count Hugh — Death of Eleanora — Effigy — Cha- racter — Queen Isabella's dower — Her return to England — Her lover, count Hugh, liberated — Isabella's son born — Her pages — Herd of white cows — King John's cruelty — His jealousy — Her children — Inheritance — Marriage of count Hugh to Isabella's little daughter — Royal dress — Murder of Matilda the Fair — John's atrocities — Meets the queen at Marlborough — She retires to Gloucester with her children — John's death — Queen's proceedings — Coronation ot her son — She leaves England — Marries count Hugh — Deprived of her jointure — ^Detains the princess Joanna — Queen's dower restored — Her pride — Embroils her husband in war — ^Attempts the life of St. Louis — Humiliation of Isabella — Hated by the Poictevins — Called Jezebel — Retires to Eontevraud — Takes the veil — Dies — ^Tomb — Effigy — Children of second marriage. No one would have imagined that Isabella of Angoul^me was destined to become the fatm'e qneen of England when king John ascended the throne, for she was then not only the engaged wife of another, but, according to the custom of the times, had been actually consigned to her betrothed for the purpose of education. Hugh de Lusignan, sumamed Le Brun,' was the affianced * " Hugh," says G. de Nangis, " whom the people of the little town of Lim(^es would call ' the Brown,* was a noble personage, brave, powerful, and possessing great riches." He did not own the sobriquet of Le Brun, but signs himself Lusignan, in hia charters. V I f t Y^■mlT^- '-.,imy:»r!rp-.j^-:.i- r ;"jr' / 2, moe — Isabella ount Hugh — • at Rouen — jed — Believed -Effigy— Cha- f lover, count vhite cows — pMarriage of f MatUda the le retires to — Coronation rived of her ■Her pride — umiliation of ontevraud — je. il^me was rhen king only the »m of the 1 for the affianced of Limoges possessing ns himself .:^, i .-"■ -. Ill ISAIU M.A 'H^ VVODULEME, <:'.¥:m'^%tsmfi\ *-^ :-^.^'l .iOIIN. I*aii*>lla thp K^ti-ithc<3 of Hui:;h i\o. I. iiKlj^iun ?».-". t*- .lnlMjritiinc(3— Twutiolla »ljdiiot*id hj- kiii^' John - MKniui!^ in kiiiff Johri t ofli»;nK'' «jf in^imi Hugh — Qt'Ofn'rt an 1'. ill in Kr^rliind lltvDiriutioa -c'oioii^nou Airi^al AC I{<)u»ii- 1/uxury -('onchbitonof MUuiiionio)' A^'iitajue's bi:>jrnip\\ •Ik'sit'p'il ■ Pi'lu'vwl by khi^ Jolin — H« captuix's count Hufrh--l)t?uil) of Klfiuioru— Krtiify— l ii.i- roiter — tn V>vi) Htr |>i,,'os — lltr-l ^t' whiL" cnvH ~ Kit^j; JiiVid'n ci"^4?>y ->i» |«>M}or^:!ali'.«--MtiriTui;i' of f.»a:.r H i|,'i> *o ' >*lip'U'* ;«}>, 'i»«if U-, !L.;'.i 'r«s» M '.I'l'T-jt M«t- ut the Fmr—J<.lui\ -itt' '. iirio* >^ •■■'^ .,»• .'>-•%■. • %!*'.>«•.»*." v*. .:ilv .-.■iiitMJ ♦*■ q| W/ tKBi — Sh<^ IcH.". 1* kafiMKi - ^l^irrjw o»vm«i Htajfe-- ."M,i':^\-••«<• ..w ,! ».;fi:^ i.^n*-, '■■ I'j**'!.; "tHV^-in i].-' i r„)»v— ?^»^iiU(f }it»r «iT* n«-' ' •^•* ■v»>-'«<''' • '4i. -i ^'^^ '.••■»i'- Ni»»ii' ikniof '.'*'"■* '■*»'*^ {'*«f4r<'< h/ i"-.ii«' vpuid — ifci:M iho veil — llii«? *v*v SJfc^v / ;i>-'j ■■\- Juim iwiifulecl the tluv. »• tn •-ho \vr.; t^f-o not ouly the ciifjajrdfl M'ifo oi' auoi1j»!( . '.i»t, miordiji;; " - Jk iustvvnnf liiruOji^* «>r><(/'/ civil ' till' UroHii,' WA* •» ' ■ '>l. p>T*'ii;i.: , lunvf, iKiworfiil, ais'l iKWhOs-iLi^' pr«>{U rulvt^." U(> il'-l MDt •« . l.S.« .n'T,*-/. < ;).•' L*; Dnui, but hij^ds liim.<>lf Liutiginri, Ul h'm c)i:u t4T!*, E tiinco— Tki()k^11$ .x,imi Hui^h — d *c Kouiii- • ■r lover, axuit Whi'n' C'JWH — !>.. ' lion of • ■Kt'i vnmd — iit»'rio was *\h(n kin;: .)ly the III of lUc i Tor rhc ilUuucc.l u '>r I.iniOj.fsi I'.s him.jlf ,/ .'/ / /, '•//''//'' / toiul'li 'll'llj V ' "iiUmIi I. , 'U'.il ISABELLA OF ANGOULl&ME. 329 lord of Isabella. He was eldest son of Hugh IX., the reign- ing count d' I Marche, who governed the provinces which formed the ^rthem boundary of the Aquitanian dominions, called in that age French Poitou. He was a vassal prince of the French crown, and, by virtue of his authority as marcher or guardian of the border, was a most formidable neighbour to the Aquitanian territories; for, if offended, he could at pleasure raise the ban and arriere ban, and pour thereon the whole feudal miUtia of a large portion of France. The mother of king John was deeply impressed with the necessity of conciliating this powerful neighbour. She had been forced, at the death of Richard, to do homage at Tours,' in person, to Philip Augustus, for Poitou, 1199; and by her wise mediation she reconciled John and Philip, negotiating an alliance between prince Louis and her grand-daughter, Blanche of Castile. She even travelled to Spain, and wa^ present at the splendid marriage of her grand-daughter, who was wedded at Burgos to prince Louis, by procuration. Afterwards her daughter, the queen of Spain, accompanied her across the Pyrenees, with the young bride, to her native territories of Guienne. Queen Eleanora intended to escort Blanche to Normandy, where prince Louis waited for them f but she fell sick with fatigue, and retreated to Fontevraud towards the close of the year 1199. In a letter written by her on her recovery, she informs king John " that she had been very ill, but that she had sent for her well-beloved cousin, Americus de Thouars, from Poitou; that she was much comforted by his presence, and tlu*ough God's grace she was convalescent." Queen Eleanora then proceeded to urge her son "to visit immediately his Poictevin provinces, and, for the sake of their peace and preservation, she desired him to form an amicable league with the count de la Marche,"' that celebrated Hugh de Lusignan, whose friendship for Cceur de Lion forms a re- markable feature in the history of the crusades. This epistle ' Quillaumo de Nangis. ' Mezcrai, vol.ii. 215, 216. ' Foedura, vol. i. The Latin letter of the aged queen is preceded by another from Anu'rioui, urging the same advice, Jiisd giviiig an aoo»»mit of the houith of his royul kinswoman. The ooacliution of the liie of Eleauora of Ai^uitiuiie Lm comprised in this biography. • 330 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. is dated Fontevraud, 1200, and was the occasion of king John's progress to Aquitaine, in the summer; but little did the writer suppose that, before the year was expired, the whole powerful family of Lusignan would be exasperated by king John's lawless appropriation of the bride wedded to the heir of their house.* Isabella was the only child and heiress of Aymer, or Americus, count of Angouleme, sumamed Taillefer. By maternal, descent she shared the blood of the Capetian sove- reigns, her mother, Alice de Courtenay, being the daughter of Peter de Courtenay, fifth son of Louis VI. king of France. The inheritance of Isabella was the beautifiil province of Angoumois, situated in the very heart of the Aquitanian domains, with Perigord on the south, Poitou on the north, Saintonge on the west, and La Limousin on the east. The Angoumois, watered by the clear and sparkling Charente, aboimded in all the richest aUments of life j altogether, it was fair and desirable as its heiress. The Proven9al language was at that era spoken throughout the district ; IsabeUa of Angouleme may therefore be reckoned the third of our Proven9al queens. The province to which she was heiress had been gOA'emed by her ancestors ever siace the reign of Charles the Bald. Isabella, being betrothed to Hugh de Lusignan, eldest son of the count de la Marche, had been consigned to the care of her husband's family, according to the feudal custom. At the period of king John's arrival, she was residing in the castle of Lusignan, under the guardianship of the count of Eu, the uncle of her spouse. Tlie young lady was nearly fifteen ; her marriage was to take place on the return of her bridegroom from some distant feudal service connected with the accession of John as duke of Aquitaine. Meantime, the count of Eu received the EngUsh king most hospitably: the chief entertain- ment was hunting in the chases pertaining to the demesne of Lusignan, which were then the most celebrated for deer in • Hugh IX., the friend and foUow-cniHiuler of king Richard, v/w alive long after his son's bctrothment to Iwibclla. The lK>refl lovor of Isalx'lla HucetTded his father by the title of Hugh X. There were thirteen counts of this house, ■uccessively, of the name of Hugh ; a fact which mokes their identity difficult without close uivestigutiun. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 331 )f king ttle did B whole •y king he heir ner, or r. By m sove- ghter of France. ?^ince of litanian ! north, b. The harente, ', it was e was at gouleme queens, med by est son care of At the astle of Eu, the en; her egroom CC(388ion tof Eu itertain- nesne of deer in alive \img HiicwotU'd Ma house, ,y difficult France. At one of these hunting parties it is supposed that king John first saw the beautiful fiancee of the absent Lu- signan : tradition says/ " that meeting her in the glades of the chase, he carried her off, screaming with terror, to the strong- hold of his sovereignty, Bourdeaux.'' In reality, the abduction was made by coUusion of the parents of the bride: they sent to the count of Eu, requesting his permission that she might visit them for the purpose of being present at a day of high ceremonial, on which they paid their homage to king John for the province of Angoumois.' Indeed, it may be considered certain that the young lady herself, as their sole heir, was required to acknowledge her lord-paramount as duke of Aquitaine. The count of Eu surrendered the fair heiress, at the request of her father ; he has been accused of betraying the interests of his nephew, but wholly without foundation. The parents of Isabella, when they perceived that their sovereign was captivated with the budding charms of their daughter, dishonourably encouraged his passion, and by deceitftd excuses to the count of Eu, prevented the return of Isabella to the castle of Lusignan; a proceeding the more infamous, since subsequent events plainly showed that the heart of the maiden secretly preferred her betrothed. Had John Plantagenet remained in the same state of poverty as when his father sumamed him Lackland, the fierce Hugh de Lusignan might have retained his beautiM bride; but at the time his fancy was captivated by Isabella, her parents saw him universally recognised as the possessor of the first empire in Europe. They had just done homage to liim as the monarch of the south of France, and they knew the Enghsh people had acknowledged him as king, in preference to his nephew Arthur; that he had been actually crowned king of England, and that his brow had been circled with the chaplet of golden roses which formed the ducal coronet of Normandy. John was already married to a lady, who had neither been crowned with him, nor acknowledged queen of England; yet she appears to have been the bride of his fickle choice. The > Vutout, HiBtory of CliAtoau d'Eu. • William lo Brotoii. — (hiizotV French (^)llection. Dr. Henry oasci-t* the wune, and gives Hovedon and M. Puris tu uuthurllica. 332 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. son of his great uncle, Robert earl of Gloucester,' had left three daughters, co-heiresses of his vast possessions. The youth and beauty of Avisa, the youngest of the sisters, in- duced prince John to woo her as his wife. The wedding took place at Richard's coronation, but the church forbade the pair to live together.' The pope, who had previously commanded the divorce of Avisa from John, because the empress Matilda and Robert earl of Gloucester had been half brother and sister, now murmured at the broken contract between Isabella and the heir of Lusignan; but as this betrothiuent does not seem to have been accompanied by any vow or promise on the part of the bride, his opposition was vain. The lady Isabella, as much dazzled as her parents by the splendour of the triple crowns of England, Noimandy, and Aquitaine, would not acknowledge that she had consented to any marriage-contract with count Hugh. As Isabella pre- ferred being a queen to giving her hand to the man she really loved, no one could right the wrongs of the ill-treated Lusignan. Moreover, the mysterious chain of feudality interwove its in- extricable hnks and meshes, even round the sacrament of marriage. King John, as lord-pai'amount of Aquitaine, coidd have rendered invalid any wedlock that the heiress of the Angomnois might contract without his consent; he could have forbidden his fair vassjdess to marry the subject of king Philip, and if she had remained firmly true to her first love, he could have declared her fief forfeited for disobedience to her imme- diate lord."* King John and Isabella were married at Bourdeaux, August 24th, 1200. Their hands were miited by the arch- bishop of Bourdeaux, who had pre>i apiK,'nded the seal of Eleanora, representing her figure at full length, standing with a flour-de-lis in her right hand ; she holds in the left a globe, symbol of Bovcreignty, on which is a bird standing on a cross. The chai-ter it«elf is a gi-eat curiosity, granting certain lands, annual value 40.v., to Adum Cook and Joan his wife, on condition of their paying her everj' year one pound of cinnamon. Adam was possibly her cook. VOL. I. Z i 338 ISABELLA or ANGOULiME. I' ■' } c^ her iilN^ She had been reared in her sunny fatherland as **(. ' ** f votaress of pleasure; her mtellectual cultivation had beau msiderable^ }iu* its *ole end was to enhance the dehghts of a voluptuous life, by calling into activity all the powers of a poetic mind. Slowly and surely she learned the stem lesson of life, — ^that power, beauty, and royalty are but vanity, if not hnked with moral excellence. She was buried by the side of kiivary II. at Fontevraud, ^ here her tomb was to be seen, with its enamelled statue, tiQ the French revolution.* The face of this effigy is beautifiilly worked with strokes of the pencil; the features are noble and intellectual. Eleanora wears the gorget, wimple, andcoverchef; over this head-gear is a regal diadem: the royal mantle is folded gracefully round her waist ; it is of garter blue, figured with silver crescents. A book was ot>, g held in the hands, but both hands and book are now broken away;^ nevertheless, in our portrait, they have been restored. With his mother, king John lost all fear and shame. Dis- tinct as his character stands on a bad enunence, the reader of general history knows httle of the atrocity of this man, whose wickedness was of the active and impetuous quaUty some- times seen in the natives of the south of Europe, combined with the most prominetvi. defects of the Enghsh disposition. He exhibits the traits of tbs depraved Proven9al, whose civi- Uzation had at that era degenerated to corruption, joined to the brutality of his worst Enghsh subjects, then in a semi- barbarous state. Isabella's influence did not mend his man- ners : he became notoriously worse after his imion with her. Ignorance could not be pleaded as an excuse for John's enor- mities ; like aU the sons of Eleanora of Aquitahie, he had hterary tastes. Some items in his Close » i«? 'rove the fact, that king John read books of a high charr .v?r . ■ ';> mand^ - to Reginald de Comhill requires him to Bciiil to vVindsor the Romance of the History of England.^ The abbot of Reading * Her beautiful statue w still preserved, thanks to the research and zeal of our ii . ntod antiquary Stothard. ''^tt^' ucon'b engraving gives the hands and book. This Benedictine anti- q^j'svy. ho wr •;.,; in the time of Louis XIII., .aore than two centuries nearer th.' <.Tt<" ^n - . iihe moniin)°int, had it drawn before it was defaced. 5 /.(,ti /^'{i, 1205. Hi Excerpta Historica, p. 393. The word 'romance' mcanfi that, like Gkioflfrey of Monmouth, and all jpopular histories, the composition was in metre. . . her. enor- had fact, indi 1'.: Dr the ading le anti- nearer ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 839 supphed Ms sovereign with the Old Testament, Hugh St. Victor on the Sacraments, the Sentences of Petre Lombard, the Epistles of St. Austin, Origcn's Treatise, and Arian. The abbot likewise acknowledges that he has a book belonging to the king called ' Pliny " In shoi t, the abbot of Reading was evidently hbrarian to king John. After the dower-lands of the Enghsh queens had been left free, by the death of the queen-mother and the composition of Berengaria, king John endowed his wife most ricldy with many towns in the west of England, besides Exeter and the cii-mines of Cornwall and Devonshire. The jointure-palace of the heiress of Angouleme was that ancient residence of the Conqueror, the castle of Berkhamstead, in Hertfordshire. Exeter and Rockingham castles pertained to her dower. Queen Isabella, during the king's absence, brought him an heir at Winchester, who received the name of Hen y. After his return to England, king John began utterly to disregard all the ancient laws of his kingdom ; and when the barons murmured, he required from them the surrender of their children as hostages. In the Tower rolls exist documents, proving that those young nobles were appointed to wait on his queen^ at Windsor and Winchester, where they attended her in bands, serving her at meals, and following her at cavalcades and processions. The tragedy of the unfortunate family of De Braose was occasioned by the resistance of the parents to these ordinances, in 1211. King John had demanded the eldest son of WiUiam de Braose, lord of Bramber, in Sussex, as a page to wait on queen Isabella, meaning him in reality as a hostage for his father's allegiance. When the king's mess, ige was dehvered at Bramber by a courtier, who bore the ominous name of Mauluc,' the imprudent lady de Braose declared, in his hearing, " that she would not siurender her children to a * Excerpta Historica, p. 399. ^ Two of these hostage children, Elizabeth heiress of sir Ralph d'Eyncourt of Sizergh-castle, in Westmoreland, and Walter the heir of sir Thomas Strickland, of Strickland, formed an attachment for each other at the court of Isabella, and afterward* married. * Peter d6 Maulue was saiu to be the assistant of John in the murder of Arthur ; hence the taunt of the lady de Braose.-Speed. She was a Norman baroness by birth j her name, Matilda St.Vallery. z2 340 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. king who had murdered his own nephew." The words of the unfortunate mother were duly reported by the malicious mes- senger. The lady de Braose repented of her rashness when it was too late, and strove in vain to propitiate queen Isabella by rich gifts. Among other offerings, she sent the queen a present of a herd of four hmidred cows and one beautiful bull: this peerless herd was white as milk, all but the ears, Avhich were red. This strange present to Isabella did not avert the deadly wrath of king John, for he seized the unfortunate family at Meath in Ireland, wliither they had fled for safety. The lord of Bramber, his wife and children, were conveyed to the old castle at Windsor and enclosed in a strong room, where they were deliberately starved to death. Father, mother, and five innocent httle ones suffered, in our England, the fate of count Ugolino and his family, — an atrocity, compared with which the dark stain of Arthur's murder fades to the hue of a venial crime. The passion of John for his queen, though it was sufficiently strong to embroU him in war, was not exclusive enough to secure conjugal fidehty; the king tormented her with jealousy, wlule on his part he was far from setting her a good example, for he often invaded the honoui* of the female nobility. The name of the lover of Isabella has never been ascertained, nor is it clear that she was ever guilty of any derehction from rectitude; but John revenged the wrong, that perhaps only existed in his malignant imagination, in a manner peculiar to liimself. He made his mercenaries assassinate the person whom he suspected of supplanting him in his queen's affec- tions, with two others supposed to be accomplices, and se(M*ctly hung their bodies over the bed of Isabella,' nn event which is evidentlv alluded to in the ntirrative given bv Matthew Paris, concerning the embassy king John sent to the ISIaho- mctan sovereign of Spain, cidled tin; Miramolin, offering to idly himself with him, and to renounce the ('hristian religion. The Moslem ciiief strongly suspected that the offered alliance was of no great vjUuc ; he therefore cross-questioned one of the envoys, • Robert the clerk," a smaU; uarK, ueioiiiiea man, ' LinganL ISABETJ.A OF ANGOUL^ME. 341 with a Jewish physiognomy, — indeed, Matthew Paris insinuates that he was a Jew in disguise of a priest. Partly by bribes and partly by threats, the Moslem obtained the following de- scription of king John's person and family iiflfairs : " The king of England Is about fifty years of age ; his hair is quite hoary ; his figure is made for strength, compact but not tall ; Ids queen hates him, and is hated by him, she being an evil-minded, adul- terous woman, often found guilty of crimes, upon which king John seized her paramours, and had them strangled with a rope on her bed/" Whatsoever degree of truth may pertain to these accusations, it is certain that about the year 1212 the queen had been consigned to captivity, having been conveyed to Gloucester-abbey under the ward of one of her husband's meroenaiy leaders. In a record-roll of king John, he directs Theodoric de Tyes " to go to Gloucester with our lady queen, and there keep her in the chamber where the princess Joanna had been nursed, till he heard further from him/' Joanna was born in 1210, according to the majority of the chro- niclers. The queen's disgrace was about two years after the birth of her daughter. The queen had brought John a lovely family, but the birth of his children failed to secure her agsiinst harsh treatment : she was at tMs time the mother of two sons, and a daughter. Isabella inherited the province of the Angoumois in the year 1213 : it is probable that a reconciliation then took place between the queen and her husband, since her mother, the countess of Angouleme, c^me to England, and put herself under the ])rotection of John. Soon after he went to Angou- leme with Isabella. To faciUtate the restoration of the Poic- ': ' M. T'aris ; pnssapo translated l)y Dr. riilos, in illnstrntion of Hopcr of Wcmlover, vol. ii. p. ;iH5. IVlattliow I'xjjn'ssly dclari's that lit- wrote what ]w hoard from till' lips of l{oliL'rt the rlerk himst'lf, who, in reward for imdertnliinp his aiili- t'liristian mission, wiw forced by his master iu< a reeeiver of rev«'nne into tlie aliU'v of St. Alhan's, where Mattlaw was a nionk. If, as M. .Miehelet jxaiiiH out, tlio tendencies of the princes of the south of France were decidedly JVIah(;metim, it WHS the plain iMilicy of kin^j .lohn, their sovcrei^ni, to Ke«'k the allianci' of tho chief of the Arabs in Sjmin. Tliis endiassy must have tiiken jilaee in tho hiHt year of .lohn's rei^i, he U'ln^r, in I'ilti, just tifty, for lie waw lM)rn in the yoiir ' Mill. Of course, the misconduct of the iiuecn inuMt havo occurred ut «ome prcviuiiH iH-rioil. I ■ i 342 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. '■'■ rw 1 tevin provinces, again seized by Plulip Augustus, John found it necessary to form an alliance with his former rival, coimt Hugh de Lusignan.^ Although that nobleman had been restored to liberty by king John for some years, he perversely chose to remain a bachelor, in order to remind all the world of the perfidy of that faithless beauty who had broken her troth for a crown. The only stipulation which could induce him to assist king John was, that he would give him the eldest daughter of Isabella as a wife, in the place of the mother. In comphance with liis request, the infant princess Joanna was betrothed to him, and forthwith given into his charge, that she might be educated and brought up in one of his castles, as her mother had been before her. After this alliance, coimt Hugh effectually cleared the Poictevin borders of the French invaders; and king John, flushed with his temporary success, returned with his queer to plague England with new acts of tyranny.'' Although the most extravagant prince in the world in regai'd to his own personal expenses, John was parsimcnioiis enough toward his beautiful queen. In one of his wardrobe- rolls there is an order for a gray cloth pelisson for Isabella, guarded with nine bars of gray fur. In king John's ward- robe-roU is a warrant for giving out cloth to make two robes for the queen, each to consist of five ells ; one of green clotl), the other of brunet. The green robe, lined with cendal or sarcenet, is considered worth sixty sliiUings. The king like wise orders for his queen, cloth for a pair of purple sandals, and four pair of women's boots, one pair to be embroidered in circles round the ankles. There is, hkewise, an item for the repair of Isabella's mirror." The dress of John was costly and glittering in the extreme, for he was, in addition to other follies and frailties, the gi*eatest fop in Europe. At one of his Christmas festivals he appeared in a red satin mantle embroidered with sapphires and peai'ls, a tunic of white damask, a girdle set with garnets and sapphires, while the baldric that crossed from Iiis l«{'t shoulder to sustain his sword, was set with diamonds and emeralds, and his white ' Matthew Paris. ' Uxcorpta Hutorica, p. 3*J8. gl{ sa] do he ISABELLA OF ANGOULtME. 343 n gloves were adorned, one with a ruby, and the other with a sapphire.* The richness of king John's dress, and the splen- dour of his jewellery, pai'tly occasioned the extravagant demands he made on the purses of his people, both church and laity ; he supplied his wants by a degree of corruption that proves him utterly insensible to every feeling of honour, both as a man and a king, and shamelessly left rolls and records whereby posterity were enabled to read such entries as the following ludicrous specimens of bribeiy : — " Robert de Vaux gave five of his best palfreys, that the king might hold liis tongue about Henry PinePs wife." What tale of scandal king John had the opportunity of telling, deponent saith not ; but the entry looks marvellously undignified in regal accounts, and shows that shame as well as honour was dead in the heart of John. " To the bishop of Winchester is given one tun of good wine, for not putting the king in mind to give a girdle to the countess of Albemarle." Tlie scarcity of coin and absence of paper-money made bribery remai'kably shameless in those days ; palfreys prancing at the levee, and the four himdred milk-white kine of the unfortunate lady de Braose lowing before the windows of Isabella, must have had an odd effect.' The queen, soon after her return to England in 1214, was superseded in the fickle heart of her husband by Matilda Fitz- Walter, sumamed the Fair. The abduction of this lady, who, to do her justice, thoroughly abhorred the royal felon, was the exploit which completed the exasperation of the Enghsh barons, who flew to arms for the purpose of avenging the honour of the most distinguished among their class, lord Fitz- Walter, father of the fair victim of John. Every one knows that, clad in steel, they met their monarch John at Ruimymede, and there " In happy hour, Made tlio foil tyrant fet'l his people's power," The unfortimate Matilda, who had roused the jealousy of the ' Such oniamcntwl pflov(»« ore seen on his effigy at Worcester cath«Hlral, and on that of hiM father at Fotitevrand. - It realiwH the sutirc of I'ojie, appliwl to the Walixilo niiniHtry. The jxiet, 1:nuliut,C the convenience of Imnk-notes in such cases, contnwtj! tho cluuigy (jQiiyrv. uncc of timgiblc proj)erty as bril)t»s, sayinjf, " A hundred oxen at thy levee i-otir." 344 ISABELLA OF ANGOULfiiME. queen, and excited the lawless passion of John, was supposed to be murdered by him, in the spring of the year 1215.' After the signature of Magna Cliarta, king John retired in a rage to his fortress at Windsor, the scene of many of his secret murders. Here he gave way to tempests of personal fury, resembUng his father's bursts of passion ; he execrated his birth, and seizing sticks and clubs, vented his maniacal feelings by biting and gnawing them, and then breaking them in pieces. While these emotions were raging, mischief matured itself in his soul ; for after passing a sleepless night at Windsor, he departed for the Isle of Wight,'^ where he sullenly awaited the arrival of some bands of mercenaries he had sent for from Brabant and Guienne, with whose assist- ance he meant to revenge himself on the barons. In the fair isle John passed whole days, idly sauntering on the beach, chatting familiarly with the fishers, and even joining in pira- tical expeditions with them against his own subjects. He was absent some weeks ; every one thought he was lost, and few ^vished that he might ever be found. He emerged from his concealment in good earnest when liis mercenary troops arrived, and then he began that atrocious progi'ess across the island, always alluded to by his contemporaries with horror. One trait of his conduct shall ser\ e for a specimen of the rest : the king eveiy morning took dehght in firing, with liis own hands, the house that had sheltered him the preceding night. In the midst of this diabolical career he reconciled himself ' " Aliont the year 1215," saith the hmili of Duninow, "tliorc arose a great discord between khii) John and his barons, because of Matilda, suriianit'd the Fair, dauphtor of UolxTt lord Fitz-Wiilttr, whom tho king unlawfully loved, but eould not obtain her, nor her father's eonsent thereto. Whereujuai tho kin^ banished the said Fitz- Walter, the most valiant knight in England, and caused his eiwtle in Loudon, ealled Haynard, and all his other dwellings, to be s|x)iled. Whieh iH'ing done, he sent to Matilda tho Fair alM)ut his old suit in love, and iK'causo she would not agree to his wickedness, tho messenger ]K)isoned an egg, and bade her keei)ers, when she was hungry, boil it and givo her to eat. Sho did so, and diinl." Tradition points out one of the lolly turrets, jierehcd on tho top, at the corner of the White tower of liiaulon, as the scene of this nun-der. She wafl convoye: 346 ISABELLA OE ANGOUL^ME. 1' In all probability, the king was seized with one of those severe typhus fevers often endemic in the fenny countries at the close of the year. The symptoms of alternate cold and heat, detailed by the chroniclers, approximate closely with that disease. Whether by the visitation of God, or through the agency of man, the fact is evident, that king John was stricken with a fatal illness at Swinshead; but, sick as he was, he ordered liimself to be put in a Utter, and carried for- ward on his northern progress. At Newark he could proceed no further, but gave himself up to the fierce attacks of the malady. He sent for the abbot and monks of Croxton, and made full confession of all his sins, (no shght undertaking ;) he then forgave his enemies, and enjoined those about him to charge his son, Henry, to do the same ; and, after taking the eucharist, and making all his officers swear fealty to his eldest son, he expired, commending his soul to God, and his body to burial in Worcester cathedral, according to his especial direc- tions, close to the grave of St. Wulstan,' a Saxon bishop of great reputation for sanctity, lately canonized. This vicinity the dying king evidently considered Ukely to be convenient for keeping his corpse from the attacks of the Evil one, whom he had indefatigably served during his life. His contem- porary historians did not seem to think that this arrangement, however prudently planned, was likely to be effectual in alter- ing his destination ; as one of them sums up liis character in these words of terrific energy, — " Hell felt itself defiled by the presence of John." The queen and the royal children were at Gloucester when the news of the king's death arrived. Isabella and the earl of Pembroke immediately caused prince Henry to be pro- claimed in the streets of that city. In the coronation-letter of Henry III. is preserved the memory of a very prudent step taken by Isabella as queen-mother. As the kingdom ' The noble monument of king John, in black marble, with his fine effigy, is to be seen in VVorceHtcr cathedral, though now removed to the choir, at some distance from the desirable iieighbourluxxl of the Saxon saint. John was reckoned by his contemporaries extremely handsome j but t^o groat broiulth over the cheeks and ears, which is tlic Icadlrig ouarivctcriHtic Oi this monarch, is not con- sistent with modem ideas of beauty. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 347 was in an unsettled and tumultuous state, and as she was by no means assured of the safety of the young king, she pro- vided for the security of both her sons by sending the second, prince Richard, to Ireland, which was at that time loyal and tranquil. The boy-king says in his proclamation,' " The lady queen our mother has, upon advice, and having our assent to it, sent our brother Richard to Ireland, yet so that you and our kingdom can speedily see him again." Only nine days after the death of John, the queen caused her young son to be crowned in the cathedral of Gloucester." Although so recently a widow, the extreme exigencies of the times forced Isabella to assist at her child's coronation. The regal diadem belonging to his father being lost in Lincoln Washes," and the crown of Edward the Confessor being far dis- tant in Westminster-abbey, the little king was crowned with a gold throat-coUar belonging to his mother. A very small part of England recognised the claims of Isabella's son : even Glou- cester was divided, the citizens who adhered to the young king being known by the cross of Aquitaine, cut in white cloth and worn on the breast. Henry was then just nine years old ; but though likely to be a minor for some years, it must be observed that the queen-mother was offered no share in the government ; and as several queens of England had frequently acted as regents, during the absence of their husbands or sons, this exclusion is a proof that the English held Isabella in little esteem. London and the adjacent counties were then in the hands of Louis of France. Among other possessions he held the queen's dower-palace of Berkhamstead, which was * Foedera, vol. i. • ' Speed's Chronicle. ' Reports were circulated in Norfolk that the royal circlet of king John wtw certainly found, in the late excavation for the Eau brink drainage, near the spot indicated by chroniclers as the scene of this loss ; and a well-sinker, who knew nothing of history, infonned a gentlen)an of Norfolk of a curious discovery ho made, when digging for a well in the same neighbourhood. " I found," said he, " in the course of my well-digging, a king's crown." On being desired to describe it, he declared that it was not larger than the top of a quart pot, but cut out in ornimicnts round the top ; that it looked black, and that he had no idea of the value, for when a Jew jwdlar offered him three pounds ten shillings, he wan glad to accept it, but he nfterwardh heard that the Jew hml maxle upwards of fifty pounds by the siu'ciilntioiu This was, most likely, one of tlie ginut-h coronals or circlets fixed at the back of the kmg's helmets, aa its size shows that it was not the regal crown. \ i. «M' 11 348 ISABELLA OF ANG0UL:^ME. strongly garrisoned with French soldiers. However, the valour and wisdom of the protector Pembroke, and the intrepidity of Hubert de Burgh, in a few months cleared England of these intruders. Before her year of widowhood had expired, Isabella retired to her native city, Angouleme, July 1217. The princess Joanna resided in the vicinity of her mother's domains, being at Lusignan, the castle of the count de la Marche. ISbthing could be more singular than the situation of queen Isabella as mother to the promised bride of count Hugh, and that bride under ten years of age. The valiant Lusignan himself was absent from his territories, venting his superfluous combative- ness and soothing his crosses in love by a crusade, which he undertook in 1216. The demise of his father obliged him to revisit Poitou in 1220, where he was frequently in company with the queen of England, who was at the same time his own early betrothed, and the mother of his young fiancee. Isabella, at the age of thirty-four, still retained that marvellous beauty which had caused her to be considered the Helen of the middle ages. It is therefore no great wonder that she quickly regained her old place in the constant heart of the valiant marcher. Two or three of her letters occur, addressed to her young son the king of England, in which Lusignan's name is men- tioned with much approbation. Soon after, we find the follow- ing notation in Matthew of Westminster : " In the year 1220, or about that time, Isabella, queen-dowager of England, having before crossed the seas, took to her husband her former spouse, the count of Marche, in France, without leave of her son, the king, or his council."' He further observes, that "As the queen took this step without asking the consent of any one in England, the council of regency withheld her dower from her, to the indignation of her husband." Isabella announced her marriage to her son in a manner perfectly consistent with the artifice of her character. If she had honestly acknowledged that she was glad of an oppor- tunity of making amends to her former lover lor the ill treat- ' Mfttthow Paris Carto. Tyrrell. Collier, imd Moreri. Rvmnr'a Vmdnrn.. — J TTnmmjncrfnrH. Witoa. I ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 349 ment he had previously received from her and king John, particularly as she found she was still beloved by hin' vo one could have blamed her. But no : according to i^.. . own account she did not take the count de la Marche to please herself, — she made a sacrifice of self in the whole proceeding ; or rather, when all other means of managing this formidable neighbour to Aquitaine failed, " ourself married the said Hugh, God knows, my dear son, rather for your benefit than our OM n." However, here is the lady's letter, one of the recent discoveries among the Norman roUs' in the Tower of London : " To our dearest son Henry, by the grace of God king of England, lord of Ire- land, duke of Normandy and Acjuitaine, Isabella countess of Aujoii and Angou- leme sends health and her maternal benediction. " We hereby signify to you, that when the counts of Marche and Eu* departed this life, the lord Hugh de Lusignan remained alone and without heirs in Poitou ; and his friends would not permit that our daughter should be united to liim in marriage, because her age is so tender,^ but counselled him to take a wife ft'om whom he might speedUy hope for an heir ; and it was proposed that he should take a wife in France, which if he had done, all your land in Poitou and Gascony would be lost. We, therefore, seeing the great peril that might accrue if that marriage should take place, (when our counsellors could give us no better advice,) oiu-self married the said count de Marche ; and God knows that we did this rather for your benefit than our own. Wherefore we entreat you, dear son, that this thing may be pleasing to you, seemg it conduces greatly to the profit of you and yours ; and we earnestly pray that you will restore to him (Hugh de Lusignan, count de Marche) his lawful right ; that is, Niort,'* and the castles of Exeter and Rockingham, which your father, our former husband, bequeathed us." Lest the council of young Henry III. (to whom this choice epistle was really addressed) should not be sufficiently pro- pitiated by the queen-mother's self-sacrifice, in taking Marche herself for fear a French spouse might render liim mischievously disposed to them, she does not fail to set forth his formidable position as a border potentate, holding, withal, a great judicial ^ Edited by T. Stapleton, esq., f.a.s. '■' Father and uncle of Hugh de Lusignan, Isabella's former betrothed. •' If Joanna had been born in 1203, as supposed, she would have been at this time seventeen, when her mother could not have used this plea. * Niort, on the roiid from Poictiers to Hochefort, still shows the dowcr-casilc here claimed by Isabella, It is thirteen miles from I'oictiers, and but three or lour from the famous castle of Lusignan. It still has two great donjons, each sur- rounded by eight tourellcs. This feudal pile has been used as a prison for the lust three centuries. D'Aubigne, madnnie de Maintenon's father, was imprisoned tiierc tor years; and that celebrated lady, if not bom at Niort, pa;ssed the first years of her life witliiii its walls. m m 350 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. m i 1' 1 office of a governing nature, paramount over the mysterious ramifications of feudality, which could at any time be exerted to the injury of her son's Aquitanian dominions. " And 80, an please you, deal with him, that, placed in power as he is, he may be with you, and not against you, for he can help you well, and he is well dis- posed to serve you faithfully, with all his power. And we are certain and under- take that he shall serve you well, if you wiU restore to him his rights, and therefore we advise you that you shall take opportune counsel in these matters. And Avhen it shall please you, you may send for our daughter (Joanna), your sister, by a safe messenger and your letters-patent, and we will send her to you." This notable epistle did not produce the desired effect of inducing young king Henry to surrender the Poitou dower- castle of Niort, the castles of Exeter and Kockingham, and still less the cash bequeathed by king John to his mother; which sum, we strongly suspect, was not in the coffers of the defunct, but he meant should be extracted from t^iose of his subjects. As it was not forthcoming on tliis cccjsion, the count de la Marche commenced being as troublesome a neighbour to Poitou as his loving spouse had intimated he meant to be, if exasperated. On her own account she showed herself hostilely disposed, by detaining her young daughter when she wks demanded by the English council. Yet it is very evident that she would have been ;}ad to have got rid of the child, whom she had deprived of her elderly bridegroom. The young king sent no satisfactory answer in return to the demand of the legacy and dower-castle of Niort ; but only a letter, dated May 22, addressed " to the count de la Marche, who has married our mother, requiring him to come to Eng- land to treat with liim on their affairs, and to send his young sister forthwith under safe-conduct to Rochelle, to be deliv(;red to his officers, whom he has ordained to receive her." ' Isabella, however, having ascertained that the council of her son's regency were anxious for the restoration of the little princess, in order to give her in marriage to the young king of Scots, Alexander II., and that a very desirable treaty of peace could not be ratified without the hand of her daughter, she took advantage of circumstances, and refused to give her up with- ' Records of the Wakefield tower. Tower of London. — Fourth Report of PubUc Record* Report of T. Duiliis Hardy, esq. ISABELLA OF ANGOUI.tME. 331 out the payments and surrenders previously specific a. The count de la Marche forthwith commenced active measures of annoyance against the townsmen of Niort, whose letters to their sovereign, Henry king of England, are piteous in the extreme, fuU of complaints of being starved, plundered, and maltreated.* The young king then wrote to the pope, earnestly requesting him to excommunicate his mother and father-in-law : the latter he vituperated as a very Judas. Be- fore the pope comphed with this dutifiil request, he inquired a httle into the merits of the case, and found that Henry III. had deprived his royal mother of all, in England and Guienne, that appertained to her as the widow of king John, because she did not ask his leave to marry a second time ; and as he was only fourteen, that was scarcely to be expected. After a most voluminous correspondence between the contending parties, on the king of Scots declaring he would not be pacified without a wife from the royal family of England, Henry was glad to make up the dilBFerence with his mother, by pajdng her arrears of jointure, and receiving from the count de la Marche the princess Joanna.^ The king of France was the liege lord of count de la Marche, but the countess-queen was infuriated whenever she saw her husband arrayed against the territories of her son, and her sole study was, how French Poitou could be rendered independent of the king of France. " She was a queen,'^^ she said, " and she disdained to be the wife of a man who had to kneel before another." Another cause of violent irritation existed : prince Alphonso, the brother of the king of France, had refused to espouse her infant daughter by the count de la Marche, and married Jane of Thoulouse : on this occasion king Louis created his brother count of Poictiers, and required the ;.oant de la Marche, as possessor of Poitou, to do him homage. Isabella ' Records of the Wakefield tower, Tower of London.— Fourth Report of Public Records. Report of T. Duffus Hardy, esq. ^ M. Paris. The princess was married to Alexander II. at York, Midsummer 1221. Though only eleven years of age, her marriages had already twice stopped a cruel war. She was sumamed by the English, Joan Makejwace. She died, when twenty-six, of a decline, produced by a change of climate. The king of Scots, at this pacification, received buck his two sisters, who had been pledged to king John tor a sum of money. ^ Speed. 352 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ALE. I 'I J I ,1. I i !i i f h'l manifested great disdain at the heiress of Thoulouse' taking precedence of her, the crowned queen of England — mother, as she said, of a king and an empress. From that time she surtijred the unfortunate count de la Marche to have no do- mestic peace, till he transfeiTed his allegiance from Louis IX. to her son Henry III., who imdertook the conquest of French Poitou at the instigation of his mother. Several yeai's of disastrous warfare ensued. The husband of Isabella nearly lost liis whole patrimony, while the district of the Angoumois was overrun by the French.^ After king Henry III. lost the battle of TaiUebom-g, fought on the banks of Isabella's native river, the sparkling Charente, in 1242, a series of defeats followed, which utterly dispossessed both the queen-mother and her husband of their territories. Henry III. fled to Bourdeaux, scarcely deeming himself safe in that city ; wlide the queen-mother, whose pride had occasioned the whole catastrophe, had no resource but to dehver herself up to the mercy of the king of France. The count de la Marche had fought hke a Hon, but his valour availed little when the minds of his people were against the war. In this dilemma the countess-queen and her lord determined to send then* heir, the young Hugh de Lusignan, to see how king Louis seemed disposed towards them. That amiable monai'ch received the son of his enemies with such benevolence, that the count de la jMarche, taking his wife and the rest of the children with him to the camp of St. Louis, threw themselves at his feet, and were very kindly received, — on no worse conchtions than doing homage to prince Alphonso for three castles. Two years afterwards the life of king Louis was attempted, tlie first time by poison, the second time by the poniard. The last assassin was detected : he confessed that he had been suborned by Isabella. A congress was held by Louis in the iieighbom'hood of Poitou, where he laid before the prelates and the peers of the southern borders the proofs of the tm'pitude which had emanated from the family of the count de la Marche. The king wished to hold this consultation before he charged with crime a potentate as high in the ranks of the feudal » RecueU de Tillet. 1241. 3 M= Paris. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 853 chivaby as the head of the house of Lusignan, — for the un- fortunate count de la Marche was supposed to be the instigator of his wife. IsabeDa, deeming that her sacred station as an anointed queen had prevented all imputation on her conduct, showed the greatest effrontery on the occasion.' She affected to beheve that the congress was a mere effort of party maUce towards her lord; accordingly she summoned all her retainers and attendants, and mounting her horse, rode to the court of inquiry. Either sne was not permitted to enter, or her con- science suggested r^uch proceeding might not be quite safe; but she scandalized all beholders by sitting on horseback^ at the door of the court while the inquiry went on. Such pro- ceeding would have been heroic had she been innocent ; but as it was, it merely showed her daring disposition. Isabella either saw some witness enter who staggered her resolution, or she heard rumoiu's which convinced her that her wickedness was discovered, for suddenly she passed from the height of audacity to the depths of despair. She fled homewards ; and when the news came that the assembled peers and prelates con- sidered there were grounds for judicial process, she threw her- self into transports of fury, tore her guimpe ^ and her hair, and snatching her dagger, would have plunged it into her breast, if it had not been wrested from her hand.'' Isabella's access of rage brought on a severe iUness, rather fortunately for her at that crisis. . It gave some colour to her subsequent escape into her son's dominions: she affected to seek medical advice, but she really sought refuge at the same time at his royal abbey of Fontevraud. The Benedictine ladies gave her shelter in those apartments which were set apart for any members of their royal benefactor's family who were sick or penitent, — ^laden with ills of body or soul. No one could be more indisposed in both than Isabella of Angouleme, nor did ^ Guillaume de Nangis. 2 French Chronicle, quoted by M. Michelet. ^ Wimple, This is an article of female head-gear, which occasions long and serious disputes among our brother antiquaries j but we hope that the portrait of Isabella will settle the pattern of it to their general satisfaction. For they will own, that Isabella could not have torn her wimple without she had worn one, and fashions did not change in those days oftener than once in a quarter of a century, as the beautiful enamelled statues at Fontevraud will very well prove. 4 IV VOL. I. !]!hrouicle, quoted by Vatout, Hist, of Eu. A A i- * 354 ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. / i lil ! she feel any scurity until she was enclosed in that retreat called 'the secret chamber of Fontevraud/' Matthew Paris observes, " that here she Uved at her ease, though the Poictevins and French, considering her as the origin of the disastrous war with France, called her by no other name than Jezebel, instead of her rightful appellation of Isabel." He adds, " that the whole brunt of this disgraceful business fell upon her unfor- tunate husband and son. They were seized, and about to be tried on this accusation of poisoning, when count de la Marche made appeal to battail, and offered to prove in combat with his accuser Alphonso, brother to St. Louis, that his wife was beUed." Alphonso, who appears to have had no great stomach to the fray, declined it, on the plea that count Hugh was so "treason-spotted" it would be pollution to fight with him. Then Isabella's young son Hugh dutifully offered to fight in the place of his sire, and Alphonso actually appointed the day and place to meet him; nevertheless, he again withdrew, ex- cusing himself on the plea of the infamy of the family. " This sad news," says old Matthew, " for evil tidings hasten fast, boon reached the ears of Isabella in the secret chamber of Fontevraud." The affront offered to her brave young son broke the heart of Isabella. She never came out of 'the secret chamber ' again, but, assuming the veil, died of a decay brought on by grief, in the year 1246. As a penance for her sins, she desired to be buried humbly in the common cemetery at Fontevraud. Some years after- wards her son, Henry III., visiting the tombs of his ancestors at Fontevraud, was shocked at being shown the lowly grave of his mother : he raised for her a stately tomb, with a fine enamelled statue, in the choir at Fontevraud, near Henry II. and Eleanora of Aquitaine, her mother-in-law.* Her statue is of fine proportions, clad in flowing garments of the royal blue of France figured with gold, and confined to the waist by a girdle. She wears the wimple and the veil. Her face is oval, with regular and majestic features." ' Muttlu'w Paris. Quilliinmo do Nan^'m. llotnieil do lillot. ' Matthow of VVo!«tininHt<>r. ' The state of the royal efflgio" at Fontovraud in the pnwiit century i» tliun tkdcrihfd iu tituthurd's Moiiuuiuutal AutiquitiuH, by the adinirablu pcu of Mr*. ISABELLA OF ANGOUL^ME. 355 ex- lace IS i» thu« of Mn* The count de la Marche survived his unhappy partner but tUl the year 1249. Tlie enmity between him and the family of St. Louis entirely disappeared after the death of IsabeUa ; for her husband shai'ed the crusade that the kmg of France made to Damietta, and fell, covered with wounds, in one of the eastern battles, fighting by the side of his old antagonist, Alphonso count of Poictiers.' IsabeUa left several children by this mar- riage, — five sons, and at least tliree daughters. Her eldest son by the count de la Marche succeeded, not only to his father's domains, but to his mother's patrimony of the Angoumois. The count de la Marche sent all liis younger sons, with his daughter AUce, to Henry III., who provided for them with reckless profusion, to the indignation of his English subjects. The names of his half-brothers are connected with most of the grievances of his troubled reign. The second son of queen Isabella and Mai'che was Guy de Lusignan, slain at the battle of Lewes ; the tliird, WiUiam de Valence, earl of Pembroke, well known in Enghsh chronicle; the fourth, Aymer de Valence, bishop of Winchester.^ The sons of Isabella derived their appellations from the places where she resided when she gave them birth ; those called ' de Valence ' were born at her lord's great citadel of that name, and the others at his more celebrated feudal castle of Lusignan. Bray. "When Mr. Stothard first visited France, during tho Bumnier of 1810, he cumc direct to Fontevraud to a84,'ertain if the effigies of our ancient kings who were buried there wore to be seen. He found the al)bt'y converted into a prison, and discovered in a cellar U'longing to it the effigies of Henry II., his quifu Kleanora of Aquitiiine, lliiJiard 1., and IsalwUaof Angouleine. The chaix>l where the figures were iilueecl previous to the llcvolution wiw entirely destroyed, and these invaluable effigies then reuiovitl to a cellar, where they were exjwsed to constant mutilation from the prisoners who came to draw water from a well twice every day. It ai)i)earod they had sustaiuiKl severe injury, lu* Mr. Stotliard found the broken I'ra^puents scattered rotuid. He made dniwings of tlie figures, and ujwn liis return to England suggi'ste M. Paris. her— Hei Kngland — I jewels — rth of hei ! — Elcanoi ho king to rl)»ik'Uco of joil on the mother — • -I'rojccted Oviienno — lerino born w queen was un- lity of a licr prc- eiiry she )(l of life nformed, rccocioua Hi served IvIJ'IA:^'**!^ of PROVENCE, rjs^viiT.i:.' iua fti ' ! K 'iV MjiN OF ai:.\ H-' tU. :?>»<*'>•*'! •'■-•••• ■■'- i '■■<•' i. <.•}, f.r-j ■* fe«jjf«i-;s*v Vil'!"''W' .i' ■ '■ tmif- ffi'f-'- _ , .^.J \ v^l.,, »«'M;W •-^>**.' • „ .■• VSK> *.■-, <;j'i^;- .»•*',- "^•♦f'ti... ■-■» - - '►J«i(*» « — M«Nr*:««f/*J|»«l. ClIAPTKll I. Elonnor of Provence— T-u.ntu^t: — I'irtli --Tiil"'it.* — Vwva writhn ly iicr-Hei U'.wii'y — Hrtivrj s«.'cCiiif.s Kluajior witliont .lowry — Ksvortod to Kiigliunl — Mani'Xl nt (!"»titiTliury — Cnwmyl dt W<.»»»iiuiistt>r — (^wtnnie aiitl jo^^■l'i^'— {•inry'u iitt<,ntton t.% 'hsm^ Kt^-Jiv .t thi- iiiTtfii'? nlsi^ivcv* -IVutli of lici ^ ^''-S«l*• #•*>(:> *X^' 4v»i.«»... Tit» .i*'—* 'rtj the r,s- '!<^- *■• .V'"- ■- « -utiilier— • (J:^ ,♦';». i^'cUKi'A* Katlieriuo bom tliaf; ever prt*?*^ !^yl o ^^ [♦»♦♦ ct)ur^ • (' Kngljuid. SIk \\!v< nu- torfiinatflv i'nh'^i t.n .«h*»«' tfw t>k-»;Hn ami rovni diL'tiitv ol' h fw'bk' inuidcil ^.v♦'♦^<';'l ir> mi » MHicr >vgc thmi luiyol Inn" prv- deco.-soir, for at ti>« t^^uf •'(' !i»,t '>\'«maj;tMviHi kiii}^ llcnryslio li.ul HCurccly ct)m [,•<•* f? hi r ii tt/Minth jt'^^r,' ;i pchud of Vii'c wlv?n hor cfhu-utro'. mh.* ii»'| 'vfiv-t, lior juiiiiinent, iinform'il. auf! lirr ('liarartd' jni' "Hrly • n,*' jf anpoiicd child, of precwifmn bt'jiitty and geiiiusi,- pmlou?' iCiVfs ! vlivcli iu licr cu.w aorvcU but to ibt^Cor vuuity mh\ yvlf'Suii'.ncnry. ' M. IVHj. lii'j" - -Hi-'i ith of lici Wwi; to ►;.. '^'^:C A' -» nti the •u.iiiwr — FtOJ<'!<.U'd >rinc U-ru waV nn- I or priv •ucyslio i of VifV A /.. . (• / //r:/ loud m. Heiifv CoUmrn 1' ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 357 This princess was the second of the five beautiful daughters of Berenger, count of Provence, the grandson of Alfonso king of Arragon. Berenger was the last and most illustrious of the royal Proven9al counts; and even had he not been the sovereign of the land of song, his own verses would have entitled him to a distinguished rank among the troubadour poets.* His consort Beatrice, daughter of Thomas count of Savoy, was scarcely less celebrated for her learning and literary powers.^ From her accomphshed parents the youthful Eleanor inherited both a natural taste and a practical talent for poetry, which the very air she breathed tended to foster and encourage. Almost before sh ; enteicd her teens, she had composed an heroic poem in her native Proven9al tongue, which is still in existence, and is to he found in MS. in the royal library at Turin.' The composition of this romance was the pri- mary cause to which the infanta Eleanor of Provence owed her elevation to the crown-matrimonial of England. Her father^s major-domo and confidant, Romeo, was the person to whose able management count Berenger was indebted for his success in matching his portionless daughters with the principal potentates of Europe.'' The following steps taken by young Eleanor, were probably prompted by this sagacious comiseUor. She sent to Richard earl of Cornwall, Henry III.'s brother, ' Sismondi's Litemture of the South. • According to some writers, she was the friend and correspondent of Richard CoBur de Lion; and it has been generally supposed that the concluding verse JEnvoye, in his celebrated prison-poem lx!ginning "Comtesse," is addressed to this lady, to whom also he is said to have sent a copy of his sonnets. — Sismondi and J. V. Andrews. ' Nostradamus, Hist, of Troubadours. * Crescembini. Romeo is mentioned by Dante as one of the greatest Italian poets of his time j he was tutor to Eleanor and her sister Mai^erite. Far from reaping any benefit for himself from liis faithful and successful match-making in behuH' of his j)atron'8 daughters, Dante t*?ll8 us that Romeo experienced the proverbial ingratitude of princes, and was driven from the court in disgrace iu hia old age. We take leave to note the pathetic lines which record the fact : — * Four daughters, and each one of them a queen, Had Raymond Berenger ; this grandeur all ]iy poor Romeo had accomplished been. Yet, moved by slanderers, tongues of evil men. To short account this just one did ho call, vVho rendered back full twelve for every ten : He left the palace worn witli age, and poor." — Wrighfs Dante. yj 858 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. the fine Proven9al romance, of her own inditing/ on the adven- tures of Blandin of ComwaU, and Guillaume of Miremas his companion, who imdertook great perils for the love of the princess Briende and her sister Irlonde, (probably Britain and Ireland,) dames of incomparable beauty. Richard of Cornwall, to whom the young infanta sent, by way of a courtly comphment," a poem so appropriately furnished with a paladin of Cornwall for a hero, was then at Poitou, preparing for a crusade, in which he hoped to emulate his royal imcle and namesake, Richard I. He was highly flattered by the attention of the young princess, who was so celebrated for her personal charms that she was called Eleanor la BeUe; but as it was out of his power to testify his grateful sense of the honour by offering his hand and heart to the royal Pro- ven9al beauty in return for her romantic rhymes, he being already the husband of one good lady, (the daughter of the great earl-protector Pembroke,) he obligingly recommended her to his brother Henry III, for a queen. That monarch, whose share of personal advantages was but small, and whose learning and imaginativeness far exceeded his wit and judgment, had been disappointed in no less than five attempts to enter the holy pale of matrimony, with as many different princesses. He would fain have espoused a princess of Scotland, whose eldest sister had married his great minister Hubert de Burgh -^ but his nobles, from jealousy of Hubert, dissuaded him from this alliance.'' He then vainly sued for a consort in the * Livei of the Troubadours, by Nostradamus, who very stupkUy mistakes Riclianl carl of Cornwall for his unclo Coour do Lion ; but Faiu-iel has, in the Rovue dos Deux Mondes, satisfactorily explained the blunder. ' The poem written by the princess Eleanor bears marks of its origin, being Iirctusely the sort of composition that a child, or young girl of sonu! genius and ittlc literary experience, might have composed. It was not without celebrity in her native country, where it is yet remembered. Probably the your - Eleanor rec ivcd some a-ssistance from her mother and father, as the countoss Beatrice and the count Ik-renger were l)oth poets of great popularity in the Provencal dialect. — Fauriel, Revue 1" for his sister'n ontwars! iulornment, wc ""p!K}i«@, aatisfied his conscience, he appropriated the rest of her ][)ortion to his own uso.— Kupin. Strutt'a British Coatumo. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 365 f accompanied, or followed, queen Eleanor to England. Among these was her uncle, Peter of Savoy, one of the younger brothers of the countess of Provence. Kmg Henry created him earl of Richmond, and, at the suit of the queen, bestowed upon him that part of London since called from him ' the Savoy.' Peter founded there a noblo palace, which the queen, his niece, afterwards purchased of him for her son Edmund eai'l of Lancaster.* In the course of one short year the ascendancy which the uncle of liis young queen gained over the plastic mind of Henry was so considerable, that the administration of the kingdom was entirely left to his discretion, and all the patronage of church and state passed through his hands. Richard earl ot Coinwall, at that time the heir-presumptive to the throne, though greatly attached to the king liis brother, reprobated Henry's conduct in permitting the intrusion and interference of the queen's foreign relatives and attendants ; bidding his brother " follow the pmdent example of their brother-in-law, the emperor, who, when he received their sister, the princess Isabella, sent back all her train of followers." The king of France, too, he reminded Henry, had taken the same course, when he maiTied the elder sister of queen Eleanor.^ In the fourth ycju* of her marriage Eleanor brought an heir to England. The young prince was bom on the 16th of June, 1231), at Westminster, and received the popular name of Ed^^ ird, in honour of Edward the Confessor; for whose memory Henry III. cherished the deepest veneration. The celebrated earl of Leicester^ was one of the godfathers of prince Edward, and iield him at the buj)tismal font : he was then in the hci}j^ht of favoiu*, both with Eleanor and the king. ' Pi'iiniiiitV liOiuUm. ' M. Paris. ^ Simon do Mtintfort, curl of Loicowtor, tho third son of Simon count de Montfort, tlic Hanj^uiniiry lender of the cruHiidc 'ijyinnst tlic Alhi^ycnscs. Ho hail served the oJlicc of Heneschul, or hij;h steward of tho royal household, at tho comiiutitni of the (luein : and this year Henry, with his iiwn liand, secretly bestowed u])ou him his widowed sister, Kleiiiior counttss of l'eud)roke, in St. Stcjihcn's cliaj)el, thoiifrh the princess had vowed to iH'comc a mm. 'I'here wero circumsl unci's, it should seem, that rendered a hasty niarriap- necessary ; and an enoriiioiis uriiif from Henry purchasi'd a dispensation tor this marria^ji" from tho |)oiH', the lady liiving tukeu tho riny, but nut tho veil of a ami. — Matthew I'uris. bpoed. liaplii. M i| p.'' ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. !. '■ -^ Brt the scene changed before the queen left her lying-in chamber; for when she gave a grand festival on occasion of her churching/ and the king summoned all the great ladies of the land to attend the queen to church, Leicester brought his newly wedded wife, the king's sister, to perform her devoir to Eleanor, but was received with a burst of fury by Henry, who called him " the seducer of his sister and an excommuni- cated man, and ordered his attendants to turn him out of the palace." Leicester endeavoured to remonstrate, but Henry would not hear him, and he was expelled, weeping with rage, and vowing vengeance against the queen, to whose influence he attributed this reverse. Among many other proofs of attention paid by Henry to his young queen on the birth of his heir, Ave find that he ordered " the chamber behind her chapel, in his palace of Westminster, and the private chamber of that apartment, supposed to be Eleanor's dressing-room, to be freshly wains- coted and hned, and that a hst or border should be made, well painted with images of our Lord and angels, with incense- pots scattered over the list or border." He also directed that the four Evangehsts should be painted in the queen's chamber, and that a crystal vase should be made for keeping the relics he possessed. A few curious particulars, illustrative of the interior of the ancient palace of our English kings at Woodstock, may be gathered from the following minute instructions contained in a precept'^ addressed by Henry III., in tlie 25th of his reign, to the keeper of that palace, du'ccting him "to cause an extension of the iron trelhses on the steps leachug from our chamber to the herbarium, or garden ;' also of the wooden ' Smulfonrs Oeiu'iUo^ijii'H. • Kot. Lilxruti, 25th of Henry III., ni. 23. " OiinU'tiiiifif wiw by no means nc^rlwtod in tin- roif?n of this primx*; for Miittht'w Piiris nu'ntions " that tho inck'niont year 12&7 was a year of faniino; that HppleH were WHrw, and jKnirs Hcarco ; but tiiut figs an«l cherriex, phnnH and all kin(l« of frtiit inchnhnl in HhelU, liml totally fiiiUHl." Several of these fruit* are arterwanlw nanunl in our annalH, w lately iiitnKlueeil, in the reljrn of Henry VIII.; but there i.s not a doubt that the eivilizatiMU of Kngland had grinitly retn)p;radi>d from the time of the Provencal queenn. Diu'ing the barbarouH wan, fnnn the re'ipj of Honry V. to Kiehard III., Kn^land IumI lont many artn, even horticuUiire, tor the fruitH reintrtHlueed in the reign of king Honry Vlll. wcro UudoubtiHily cultivated in that uf Henry III. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 367 ;he be 1 ill all our idcn I. for lino ; luul V«it« L'ury iivtly ,viin«, oven were lattices in two windows of our queen's chamber, and to cause a pent to be made over these windows, covered with lead ; and an aperture to be made in the pent, between the hall and our queen's chamber and the chapel towards the borders of our herbarium, and two windows of white glass looking to- wards the said borders. Two spikes, also, in the gable of our hall, and windows of the same kind on the east of the hall, and the pictures now in the hall, are to be repaired. And we desire that all the courts, fountains, and walls of our houses there be repaired.'' Independently of his noble taste in architecture, of which Westminster-abbey is a standing proof, Henry III. was un- doubtedly possessed of a love for the fine arts ; for we find, in the seventeenth year of his reign, a precept directed to the sheriff of Hampshire, commanding him to cause the king's wainscoted chamber in the castle of Winchester to be painted with Saxon histories, and the same pictures with which it had hp'^r^ painted before ; which proves, not only that historical ' ings in oU on wainscot were then in use, but that they nad been painted so long that the colours were faded, and required renewing. Again, we have a precept of Henry III., twenty-three years after this period, which runs thus : — " Pay out of our treasuiy to Odo the goldsmith, and Edward his son, one hundred and seventeen shillings and ten-pence, for oil, varnish, and colours bought, and pictures made in the chamber of our queen at Westminster, between the octaves of Holy Trinity and the feast of St. Barnabas, the same year, in the twenty-third year of our reign."' This reign affords the first example of a poet-laureate, in the person of one master Henry, to whom, by the appellation of " our beloved versificator,"'" the king orders '* one hundred shiUings to be given in payment of his arre}u*8." This officer was, in all probability, introduced into the royal household by the Proven9ul queen, who was, as we have seen, herself a poet, and who had been accustomed in her early youth to be surrounded by minstrels and troubadours in the literary court of her accomplished parents. Fauriei points out several ' WiiliKtlcV Aiu'cdoti'H of Piiiiitin^;. Strutt. " Miulux, llit>t. of tho Exchuqiicr. 808 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. ^! i. rcmances written imder the superintendence of tliis king, who, when he married Eleanor of Provence, received a partner whose tastes and pursuits certainly assimilated with his own ; and to this circumstance may, no doubt, be attributed the unbounded influence she acquired over his nnnd, which she retained long after the bloom of vouth and beauty had passed away. While the king tnd queen were still residing at the palace of Woodstock, about three months after the birth of their heir, an attempt was made on the life of the king by a mad poet named Ribald, or Ribaut, who, according to some of the chromclers, was a gentleman and a knight.* One day he rushed into the royal presence, and, before the whole court, called upon Henry t*- resiga the crown, which he had usurped and so long detained from him. The officers of the house- hold forced him out of the presence-chamber, and would have inflicted a severe chastisement upon him, if the kind-hearted monarch had not interposed, and charged them " not to hurt a man who talked so like a person out of his senses," The king told them " to take him into his hall, and entertain him hospitably, and let him go." This was done, and Ribaut got into high spirits, and began to be very amusing to the royal retinue, joculuting for their entertainment, and singing some choice minstrelsy." Thus he wliiled array the time till dark, when he stole into the king's bedchamber through a Avindow, armed with a long sharp knife, and concealed himself among the rushes mider the king's bed. Hemy, fortunately for himself, /•assed that night in the queen's chamber, and Ribaut, rising up at midnight, stabbed the bolster of the royal bed several times, searching for the king in vain, and demanding where he was in a loud roaring voice; whicli so alarmed Margaret Bisset, one of the queen's maids of lionoiu*, who was sitting up late, reading a devout book by thn light of a lamj^, tliat her shrieks awakened tlie king's servants, Avho took him uito custody. The unhappy crcatiu-e waa executed at Coventry for tliis ofleiice.' • SiHHxl. M. PurlH. « Wikos. • In tlicHo (layn he would liavo i)oon, with tnoro proprioty, coiiHicrnod to an B/tyhnu for liniiitic**. Tho oxpronsioii of " rilnild rliyinoB " wiw, mo doubt, dorivud from tho niiuio of thib frantic vorsillor of tho tliirtwuth century. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 369 ]\ tliat h\ to Ml dorivcd The following year two other uncles of the queen, Tliomus count of Savoy, and Boniface, his youngei brother, visited i^r^j^land.' King Henry, out of complaisance to his consort, received and entertained them with such magnificence, that not knowing how to support the charge by honest means, he sent word to the Jews that, unless they presented him with twenty thousand marks, he should expel them all the Idng- doni; and thus he supplied himself with money for his unjust generosity. The death of St. lildmimd, archbisliop of Canterbury, iur- nished ilenry with a fivrther opportunity of obhging Eleanor, by obtaining the nomination of her uncle Boniface to the primacy of England. Matthew of Westminster infonns us that Eleanor wrote, with her own hand, a veiy elegant epistle to the pope in his behalf; "taking upon herself,'^ says the worthy chronicler, (who appears to have been highly scan- dalized at female interference in ecclesitistical affairs,) " for no other reason than his relationship to her, to mge the cause of tliis unsuitable candidate in the Avarmest manner. And so/' continues he, "my lord the pope, when he had read the letter, thought proper to name this man, who hatl been chosen by a woman ; and it was commonly said that he was chosen by female intrigue." Among other proofs of Eleanor's un- bomided influence ove^ llie mind of her lord, it was obsen'cd, that Avhen, on the death of Gilbert Mareschal, earl of Pem- broke, his brother Walter demanded of the king the office of earl marshal, which was hereditarj' in his family, Henry at first in a great passion denied him, telling him " that his two brothers were a pair of turbulent traitors, and tha*: he had presumed to attend a tournament at which he had forbidden him to be present." Yet, when the earl, having succeeded in interesting queen Eleanor in his favour, again prefened his suit, it was immediately granted tlu-ough her powerful intercession." Queen Eleanor presented lier husband with a daughter in the yvixv 12 H, who was named Margaret, after her royal aunt, the niipon oi The following year, queen Eleano; , accompanied the king her husband on his ill-advised ' M. roria. I'olydoro Vorgil. Sjn'od. • M. I'tais. VOL. I. B Jl : I 370 ELEANOK OP PBOVENCE. ml III expedition ngjiinst li6r brothcr-in-iaw, tlio king of France * with whom that peace-loving monarch hud suffered liimsclf to be involved in a qnarro' to oblige his mother, Isabella of Angoulfime." The king and queen embarked at Ports- mouth, May 19, 12t2. Henry wjis totally unsuccessM in his attacks on the king of 1^^'ance, and, after a series of defeats,'* took refuge with his queen at Uourdeaux, to the great scandal of all his English knights and nobles, many of whom returned home in disgust, which Henry revcuged in the usual way, by fining their estatos. Eleanor gave birth to another daughter at Boiu'doaux, whom she named Beatrice, after her mother, the countess of Provence.* In oonsequence of the close connexion between their qxicns, Louis IX. was induced to grant a truce of five years to his vanciuivshcd foe. Henry and Eleanor then resolved to spend a merry winter at Boiu'deaux, where they amused them- selves with as much feasting amd pageantry as if Ileury had obtained the most splendid victories, although he was much impoverished by losing his military chest, and his moveable chapel-royal, with all its rich jjlate, at the battle of Taillebourg. AVhcn Henry and Eleanor ret'.u'ued to England, they landed at Portsmouth, and orders were issued that the principal inhabitants of every town ou the route to London should testify their loyal affection, by coming forth on horseback in their best array, to meet and welcome their sovereign and liis queen.' Duriu;'^ the residence of the royal family on the continent, queen Eleanor strengthened her interest by bringing about a imion between her youngest sister Cincia, or Sancha, and the king's brother, Richard earl of Cornwall, who had recently become a Midower. The m.irriage was solemnized in England, whither the coiuitcss of Provence conducted the affifuiced bride in the autumn of the same year. Henry called upon the Jews to furnish the funds for the splendid festivities which he thought proper to ordain, in honour of the nuptials between his brother and the sister of his queen. One Jew alone, the rich Aaron of York, was compelled to i)av no less than four * M. Wostnniistor. Kupiu. • AI. Pnris. Kiipiu. ' Sec the preceding bioixrajihy. < Ibid. » SikxhL ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. sri upon hundred marks of gold, and four thousand of silver ; and the Jewa of London were mulcted in like proportion. The dinner at this bridal consisted of tliirty thousand dishes. The countess of Provence, not contented with the splendour of her enter- tainment, thought pro;)er, before she departed, to borrow four thousand marks of the king for the use of her husband. " The king,'' says the clu-oniclers of that day, " thought he never could do er^ ^gh to testify his love for the queen and her family.'" The misconduct of Eleanor's uncles, and their unfitness for the high and responsible situation in which they were placed in England, may be gathered from the following dis- graccfiil fracas, which took place between the archbishop Boniface and the monks of St. Bartholomew. In the year 1244', Boniface, archbishop of Canterbury, thought proper to intrude himself in the bishop of London's diocese, on a visit- ation to the priory of St. Bartholomew. The monks, though they liked not his coming, received liim with respect, and came out in solemn procession to meet him ; but the arch- bishop said "he came not to receive honour, but for the pm^joses of ecclesiastical visitation." On tliis the monks replied, " that having a learned bishop of their own, they ought not to be vi«ited by any other." This answer was so m\ich relented by the wrathful primate, that he smote the sub-prior on the face, exclaiming, in his ungovemed fury, " Indeed, indeed ! doth it become ye Enghsh traitors thus to withstand me ?" and, with oaths not proper to repeat, he tore the rich cope of the sub-prior to pieces and trampled it under his feet, and thrust him against a pUlar of the chancel with such violence, that he had well-nigh slain him. The monks seeing their sub-prior thus maltreated, pushed the archbishop back, and in so doing discovered that he was cased in armour, and prepared for battle. The archbishop's attendants, who were all Proven9als to a man, then fell on the monks, whoni they beat, bufl'eted, and trampled under foot. The monks, in their rent and miry garments, ran to show their wounds, and to complain of their wrongs to their bishop, who Ijade them go and teU the lung thereof. The oidy four who were » M. Turis. I) u 2 i! 372 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. *f» m capable of getting as far as Westminster proceeded to the palace in a doleful plight; but the king would neither see them, nor receive their complaint.* The populace of London were, however, in great indignation, and were disposed to tear the archbishop to pieces, pursuing liim all the way to Lambeth with execrations, crying aloud, "Where is this ruffian, — ^this cruel smiter ? He is no winner of souls, but an exacter of money, — a stranger born, unlearned, and unlaw- fully elected/' Boniface fled over to the palace, where he made his story good with the king through the influence of the queen, liis niece, and the moul of St. Bartholomew got no redress. The following year, 1244, the threatened war between England and Scotland was inverted by a contract of mar- riage, in wliich the hand of the eldest daughter of Henry and Eleanor, the infant lady Margaret, was pledged to the heir of Scotland, the eldest son of Alexander II.' About this time Henry ordered all the poor children from the streets and highways round Windsor and its neighbourhood, to be collected and munificently feasted in the great hall of the palace there. Afterwards the royal children were all pubhcly weighed, and their weight in silver distributed in alms among the destitute individuals present, for the good of tht souls of the piincely progeny of himself and queen Eleanor. In the beginning of the year 1245, the queen bore a second son, prince Edmund, and the king levied a fine of fifteen hundred marks on the city of London, under pretence that they had sheltered one Walter Bukerel, whom he had banished. Henry was encouraged in liis unconstitutional proceedings by a very trivial circumstance. A fire broke out in the pope's palace, and destroyed the chamber in which the principal deed of Magna Charta was kept, which made the queen fancy that it was rendered null and void.' England was at this period in such a state of misrule, that in Hampshire no jury dared to find a bUl against any plunderer ; nor was the system of universal pillage confined to the weak and undefended, since Matthew Paris declares " king Henry complained to him, that M'hen he * M. Westminster. ' M. Paris. M. Westininater. • M. Paris. I ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 373 was travelling with the queen through that county, their luggage was robbed, their wine drunk, and themselves insulted by the lawless rabble/' Such was the insurgent state of Hampshire, that king Henry could find no judge or justiciary who would undertake to see the laws duly executed. In this dilemma he was forced to sit on the bench of justice himself in "Winchester-castle ; and no doubt the causes determined by him, and his manner of declaring judgment, would have been well worth the attention of modem reporters. While thus presiding personally on the King's-bench, Henry had occasion to summon lord Chfford to answer at this justice-seat for some malefaction ; when the turbulent misdoer not only con- tumaciously refused his attendance, but forced the king's officer to eat the royal warrant, seal and all '* Henry punished him with spirit and courage. One great cause of the queen's impopularity in Lodnon originated from the unpiincipled manner in which she exer- cised her influence to compel all vessels freighted with com, wool, or any pecuharly valuable cargo, to unlade their cargoes at iier hithe, or quay, called Queen-hithe; because at that port (the dues of which formed a part cf the revenues of the queen-consorts of England) the toUs were paid according to the value of the lading.^ This arbitrary mode of proceeding was without parallel on the part of her predecessors, and was considered as a serious grievance by the masters of vessels and merchants in general.^ At last Eleanor, for a certain sum of money, sold her rights in this quay to her brother-in-law, Richard eaii of Cornwall, who, for a quit-rent of fifty pounds per aimum, let it as a fee-farm to John Gisors, the mayor of London, for the sake of putting an end to the perpetual dis- putes between the merchants of London and the queen. In order to annoy the citizens of London, Henry, during the disputes regarding the queen's gold, revived the old Saxen custom of convening folkmotes ;* and by this means reminded the commons, as the great body of his subjects were called, that they had a poUtical existence no less than the barons of Paris. ^ Regal Annals, quoted by Speed. ' Ilnrrwon's Survey of London. * Ibid. "chard carl of Cornwall, and others of his council. It was only to be f nned on occasions of extreme uii'ency. Eleanor was dircctv^d to govern b) ac advice of her royiU brother-in-law, but the regal power was vested ill licr ; and we find that jjleas were holdcn before her and the king's council, in the court of Exchequer, dui'ing li !» h 881. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 1 I 1 1 Ht'Tuy's ab^enc 1 in Gascony. "At this time," says Madox,' " tlie queen was >ustos regni, and sat vice regis .""^ We have thas an instance of a queen -consort performing, not only the 'ui'jtions of a sovereign, in the absence of the monarch, but a.;cing as a judge in the highest court of iudicatnre, curia regis. There can be no doubt but this pruiceis t')ok her "oat on the King's-biiich.'' No sooner had queen Eleanor got the reiii3 of empi.-e v\ her own hands, nurestrained by t)>e. cou, ierbiViinciu^ p rv;/ of the great earl of Leicester, who har* voln'ii'3cred his services to kin{!!; Henry agjiJu^t the iu urgent Gciscons, than she pro- ceeded to play th(j suvereign m a more de«p tic manr% ii one instance at least, than had ev< i' hma attempted by the mightiest ni aiarch of the Norman hi o. Remer- eriiij: her former dispniea with tiie city of L>-rt(3(i by the king from the plundered mer- cliants and citizens of London. For the non-payment of this unjust claim, Elcan ar, in a very summarj'^ manner, committed the sheriffs of London, Richard Picard and John de North- ampton, to the Marshalsea prison, in the -" • "1.254/ and the same year she again committed them, together with llichard Ilardell, draper, the mayor, to the same prison, for an'cars of an aid towards the war in Gascony. These arbi- * Miulox, History of txclioquer, chap. ii. p. 47. * History of the Exchequer: Judicnituro of iic kin^s Couii. ■ Placita coram doiniiiii roj;ina et coiisilio tloin*. ■ > j;i3 in crustiiio iinlivitftt's Be. Miiriir, anno 37, Hen. III. — Ex cedulu Kotii* . ;iii illius penes Thus, et Camerar. Ko^ I. 4. * Stowe. Hoj/i;';'. 1 ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. 385 trary proceedings of che queen-regent were regarded with indignant astonishi^.ent in a city governed by laws peculiar to itself, — London oeiiig, in fact, a republic within a monarchy, whose privileges nad hitherto been respected by the most despotic sovereig-is. It had been hoped that Richard earl of Cornwall, Eleaaor's coadjutor in the delegated regal power, would have restrained her from such reckless abuse of the authority with which she had been invested by her absent lord ; but since his marriage with her sister, that prince had ceased to oppose the queen in any of her doings. Thus the queen and the countess of Cornwall made common cause, con- triving to govern between them the king and his brother, and through them the whole realm, according to their own pleasure. Early in the year, Eleanor received instructions from the king to summon a parhament, for the purpose of demanding aid for carrying on the war in Gascony. But finding it im- possible to obtain this grant, queen Eleanor sent the king five hundred marks from her own private coffers, as a New-year's gift, for the immediate reUef of his more pressing exigencies.' Henry then directed his brother to extort from the luckless Jews the sum required for the nuptial festivities of his heir. As soon as Henry received the glittering fruits of this iniquity, he sent for Eleanor, to assist him in squandering away the supply in the light and vain expenses in which they mutually dahghted, hkewise to grace with her presence the bridal of their eldest son, prince Edward.' Eleanor, who loved power well, but pleasure better, on this welcome summons resigned the cares of government to the earl of Cornwall ; and with her sister, tie countess of Cornwall, her second son, prince Edmund, and a courtly retinue of ladies, knights, and nobles, sailed from Portsmouth on the 15th of May, and, landing at Bourdeaux, was joyfully welcomed by her husband and their Wv, prince Edward, whom she had not seen for \!|yr?ij.ids of R year. She crossed the PjTcnees with her son, and having h. listed at the solemnization of his nuptials with the infunta Eleanora of C. ^tile, retiLiueu with tha royal bride and bridegroom to king Henry, who was waiting for their arrival at ' Stowe'8 Annals. ' M. Paris. VOL. I. C C i I 386 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. ft '!K m if i i Bourdeaux. Instead of sailing from thence to England, the queen persuaded Henry to accept the invitation of St. Louis, her brother-in-lav/, to pass some days at his court with their train. At Chartres, Eleanor enjoyed the pleasure of embracing her sister, the queen of IVance, who, -vvith king Louis and their nobles, there met and welcomed their royal guests, and conducted them with all due pomp to Paris.* Here Louis assigned the palace of the old Temple for the residence of his royal guests; a domicile that could almost furnish accommoda- tions for an army. The morning after their arrival Henry distributed very abundant alms among the Parisian poor, and made a splendid entertainment for the relatives of his queen, which was, in memory of its magnificence and the number of crowned heads present, called 'the feast of kings." Con- temporary chroniclers declare that neither Ahasuerus, Aiihur, nor Charlemagne ever equalled this feast in any of their far- famed doings. King Henry sat at table on the right hand of the king of France, and the king of Navarre on the left. King Louis, with tne princely courtesy and meekness which so much characterized the royal saint of France, contended much that the king of England should take the place of honour ; but Henry refused to do so, alleging that the king of France was his suzerain, in aUusion to the lands which he held of him as a vassal peer of France ; on which Louis, in acknowledgment of the compliment, softly rejoined, " Would to God that every one had his rights without ofience M'^ At this memorable entertainment, queeu Eleanor enjoyed the happiness of a reunion with her four sisters and their children, and her mother, the countess of Provence. Michelet states, that the three elder daughters of the count of Provence being queens, they made their yoimges^ sister, Beatrice, sit on a stool at their feet, — ^hence her extreme desire to be the wife of a king. However, it was the law of royal etiquette, and not any personal act of her sisters, which placed Beatrice on the tabouret instead of the throne. After the royal family of ' M. Paris. M. Westminster. 2 M. Paris. • M. Paris. The kmff of France aiiuaeil to the detentioiS of Normandy and Ai\jou, the iiilieritauce of the house of Plautujjenet. 'In a-day fo having muzzle, in tlie ri beasts, tliree lee he ]i :,( iss • iatei^ i)ui what he ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 387 of m 3Uld 3yed their lelet lence It on I wife and ie on ly of and England had received, during a sojourn of eight days in Paris, all the honour which the power of the king and the wealth of the fair realm of France could hestow, they took their leave of these pleasant scenes. The king and court of France accompanied them one day's journey, Eleanor and her hus- band landed at Dover on the 5th of January, 1255, and on the 27th made their pubhc entry into London vntla. extra- ordinary pomp. They received a present of a hundred pounds sterling, which the citizens of London were accustomed to give on such occasions; but as Henry did not seem satisfied, a rich piece of plate of exquisite workmanship was added, which pleased, brt certainly did not content, this most acquisitive of all our monarchs; since, a few days after, he extorted a fine of three thousand marks from them, on the frivolous pretence of the escape of a priest from Newgate who was accused of murder. It was very evident to the citizens that Eleanor had not forgotten their resistance of her illegal exactions, for much strife ensued regarding her claims.' Eleanor, who was probably ambitious of being the mother of as many crowned heads as those by whom she had seen the countess of Provence proudly surrounded at the fea i of kings, was much elated at the pope sending her second son. "ice Edmund, then about ten years old, a rijig, whereby Lo |'ro- fessed to invest him with the kingdom of Sicily. But the deUght of king Henry at the imaginary preferment of his favourite son exceeded all bounds. He caused a seal to be made, with the effigies of the young prince enthroned, bearing the sceptre and orb of sovereignty, and crowned with the royal diadem of Sicily.^ Hemy was only deterred from rushing into a war for the purpose of establishing the imap' : * claims * In addition to this imposition, Henry forced the Londoners to pay fourpenco a-day for the maintenance of a white bear wliich he kept in the Tower of London, having six years previously commanded the sheriffs of London to provide ,i muzzle, an iron chain, and a cord for the use of the said royal pet, while fishing in the river Thames. Henry appears to have had a inighty predilection for wild beasts. The menagerie at the Tower was formed in his rcij,"n, commencing with three leopards, which his brother-in-law, the emperor, presented to him. Then he 1> ,<"» 11 elephant, which was so higldy prized by him, that on its decease ho iss • ,vrit to the constable of the Tdwctj " to deliver the bones of the elephant iatel; buried in the Tower-ditch to the sacristan of Westminster, to make thereof what he had ei\joiued him to do." * Speed. c r 3 388 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. n of his boy to this d^nity, by the necessity of rendering his paternal succour to the king and queen of Scots, queen Eleanor having been informed that they were deprived of royal power and kept in close confinement by \"he regents, sir John Bahol anfl ttc Comyns, who were the next heirs to the Scottish crr\-f.i. ■ ';ci maternal anxiety of the queen beiag very painfcJly c-xcited by these reports, she privately despatched her physician, a person in whose sagacity she could confide, into Scotland, to learn the real situation of her daughter. This trusty agent ascertained that the king and queen of Scots were both imprisciir.d hi tiie castle of Edinburgh, but in separate apartments; and ha^/ing succeeded in gaining a secret interview with the young queen, she gave him a lament- able account of her treatment ever since her marriage, — " Having been rudely torn,^^ she said, " from her royal hus- band, and kept apart from him in a dolefid damp place, the bad air of which had seriously injured her health ; and so lar from having any share in the government, they were treated with the utmost contumely, and were in daily peril of their lives." "When these alarming tidings reached queen Eleanor she was greatly distressed in mind, and herself acc»..mpanied king Henry on a campaign which, at her earnest entreaty, he undertook for the deUverance of their son-in-law and daughter; but before the earl of Gloucester, whom Henry had sent on a special embassy to Scotland, could forward news of his mission, Eleanor's trouble of mind brought on a violent iUness, and she was conf.Aied to 'ler bed it War\-castle, with small hopes of her hfe.' At last tidings came tliat Gloucester and Mansel * There is aironfr the Tower records a letier from Henry, dated from Wark, September IC u, t.idently writti^i while he v 3 yet in suspense as to the result of this affair, enjoining " his dem -on Edward of Westminster, and his treasurer Philip Lovel, by the love and fuith thoy owe him, 'u keep the feasts of his favourite saint, Edward the Conf_ i, with all due pomp, Ihs name as if himself were present; and to mak'^ 1 offering in gold for himsoli", for the queen and the royal children : also tha' v cai' ■ to be touched the silver cross on the great altar at Westaiinster, aim >ih- u 1 te of gold weighing one ounce, the same m was customary to be done vrhen the king was present at the mass of St. Edward ; and that they cause to come solenmly to Westminster, on St. Edward's-day, the procession of the church of St. Margaret, and all the processions of the city of Lon- don, with wax -lights, as the king hath commanded the mayor and the honest men of London." Henry concludes with commanding both halls of the palace at West- loimter to be filled with poor men and women, who were to be fed at his expense. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 389 the she had gained admittance *^o the castle of Edinburgh by assum- ing the dress of tenani of Baliol the governor, and, in this disguise, they were enabled to give secret access to their fol- lowers, by whom the garrison was surprised, and the rescued king and queen restored to each other. Their cruel gaolers, Baliol and Eoss, were brought to king Henry at Alnwick to answer for their treasons: on their throwing themselves at his feet and imploring for mercy, he forgave them; but as Bahol was his own subject he mulcted him in a heavy fine, which he reserved for his own private use. He then sent for the young king and queen to join him at Alnwick, where the king of Scotland solemnly cho^e him to be his guardian during the rest of his minority. Queen Eleanor's illness continued to detain her at Wark- castle, even after hr^- mind was reheved of the anxiety which had caused her si^Kness. Her indisposition, and extreme desire of her daughter's company, are certified in a letter of king Henry to liis son-in-law, the king of Scotland, dated the 20th of September, 1255,^ in which he specifies, that " The queen of Scotland is to remain with the sick queen her mother, his beloved consort, at Wark-castle, tiU the said queen ih sufiiciently recovered to be capable of travelling southward.^' On Eleanor's convalescence, the king and queen of Scotland accompanied her and king Henry to Woodstock, where she kept her court with more than ordinary splendour, to celebrate *.ieir dehverance from their late adversity. There were then thi'ee kings and three queens at Woodstock, with their retinues.^ Richard earl of Cornwall, having obtained his election as suc- cessor to the emperor of Germany, had assumed the title of king of the Romans, while his consort, qusen Eleanor's sister, took also royal state and title. After exhaustiug all the plea- sures that the sylvan palace of Woodstock, its extensive chase and pleasance, could afford, they proceeded to London, where, in the month • f February, the three kings and queens made then* pubHc entry, wearing their crowns and royal robes.' All this pomp and festivity was succeeded by a season of gloom and care. I'he departure of the king and queen of Ryiner's Fcerloi u * Matthew Paris. M. Westminster * Matthew Paris. ' i 390 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. li Scotland was followed by that of the new king and queen of the Romans, who went to be crowned at Ab;-la-Chapelle, canying with them seven hundred thousand pounds in ster- ling money. A dreadful famine added to the pubhc embarrass- ment occasioned by the drain on the specie. It was at this season of pubhc misery that Eleanor, blinded by the selfish spuit of covetousness to the impohcy of her conduct, chose to renew her demands of queen-gold on the city of London. These the king enforced by writs of Exchequer, himself sitting there m person,' and compelling the reluctant sheriffs to distrain the citizens for the same. This year the queen lost her httle daughter, the lady Katherine, whom she had bomn to king Henry during his absence in the Gascon war. Among the Tower records is an order to the treasurer and chamberlains of the treasury, to deUver to master Simon de Wills five marks and a half, for his expenses in bringing from London a certain brass image to be set on the royal infant's tomb at West- minster ; and for paying to Simon de Gloucester, the king's goldsmith, for a silver image for the like purpose, the sum of seventy marks. The ardent desire of the king and queen for the realization of their second son's title as king of Sicily meeting with no encouragement, a httle piece of stage efiect was devised by the sovereign, by which he foohshly imagined he should move his obdurate barons to grant the pecuniary supphes for his darling project. Having caused the young prince to be attired in the graceful costume of a Sicihan king, he, at the opening of the parliament, presented him to the assembly with the following speech : — " Behold here, good people, my son Edmund, whom God of his gracious goodness hath called to the excellency of kingly dignity. How comely and well worthy is he of aU your favour ; and how cruel and tyrannical must they be, who, at this pinch, would deny him effectual and seasonable help, both with money and advice !"^ Of the latter, truth to teU, the barons were in nowise sparing, since they urged the king not to waste the blood and treasure of his suffering people on such a hopeless chimera j but Heniy, who was as firm in foUy as ho * Stowe's London. ^ M. Paris. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 891 was unstable in well-doing, pertinaciously returned to the charge, notwithstanding the strange insenaibihty manifested by the peers to the comeliness of the young prince and the picturesque beauty of his Sicihan dress, for which the royal sire, in the fond weakness of paternal vanity, had condescended to bespeak the admiration of the stem assembly. The aid was finally obtained through the iaterference of the pope's legate, but on condition that the sovereign should consider himself bound by the Oxford statutes. The object of those statutes was to reduce the power of the crown within moderate limits. One day, as the sovereign was proceeding by water to the Tower, he was overtaken by a tremendous thunder-storm, and in great alarm bade the boatman push for the first stairs, for- getting in his fright that they belonged to Durham-house, where Leicester then dwelt. The earl, with unwelcome courtesy, came to receive his royal brother-in-law as he landed from the boat, telling him, at the same time, " not to be alarmed, as the storm was spent." — " I am beyond mea- sure afraid of thunder and lightning; but, by the head of God ! I fear thee more than all the thunder in the world/' repUed Henry, with as fierce a look as he could assume.^ To which Leicester mildly rejoined, " My lord, you are to blame to fear your only true and firm friend, whose sole desire it is to preserve England from ruin, and yourself from the destruc- tion which your false counsellors are preparing for you." Henry, far from confiding in these professions, took the earliest opportunity of leaving the kingdom, to seek assistance from the foreign connexions of his queen. In his absence, the king and queen of Scots arrived at Windsor-castle, on a visit to queen Eleanor. A few days after Henry's .etum, John duke of Bretagne came over to wed the princess Beatrice. The earl of Leicester allowed the king and queen ample supphes for the entertainment of these illustrious guests.'* The court at Windsor had never been more numerously attended, or more magnificently appointed, than on this occasion; but there was a pervading gloom on the mind of the royal parents, which the presence of their eldest daughter and the marriage I. - M. Pari*. jLbaplIk* 392 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. of the second failed to dissipate. The young queen of Scot- land passed the whole Avinter with her mother at Windsor- castle, where she lay in of a daughter. The state of Henry's mind just before the outbreak of the barons' war is apparent from his issuing directions to his painter, master Williams, a monk of Westminster, to paint a picture for him of ' a king rescued by his dogs from an attack made upon him by his subjects.' Philip Lovel, the king's treasurer, is ordered by this precept, which was issued in the fortieth yeai' of Henry's reign, to disburse to the said master Williams the full charges and expenses of executing this picture; which is directed to be placed in the wardrobe of Westminster, where the king was accustomed to wash his head. At this period, the king and queen chiefly confined themselves within one or other of the royal fortresses of Windsor or the Tower, which he had fortified with additional defences to stand a siege. After Henry had violated the pro^dsions of Oxford, he took up his residence in the Tower of London, while Eleanor remained with a strong garrison to keep Windsor. In 1261 died the queen's sister, Sancha countess of Corn- wall and queen of the Romans, for whom the king and queen made great lamentations, and gave her a magnificent funeral. In that year the royal party gained such strength, that the earl of Leicester found it most prudent to withdraw to the continent. Piince Edward returned to England, to guard the realm M'hile king Henry went to Gascony, where his presence was required, and where he fell sick of a quartan ague, wliich detained him there during the autumn. While })rince Edward was cairying on the war against the Welch, Ijeicester's party became more formidable, and in 1202 that mighty agitator returned almost at the same time with the king, to whom he caused the barons to present an address requiring him to confirm the Oxford statutes, addhig a defiance to all who opposed tlu ni, the king, the queen, and their royjd children excepted. This excc])tion may be regarded, «dl things considered, as a very remarkable piece of civility on the part of tht reforming barons of the 13th centurj'. One of the most inlluciitial of these was Roger liigtul, ciirl of Norfolk and litt ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 393 Suffolk, to whom in angry parlance king Henry said, " What, sir earl ! are you so hold with me, whose vassal peer you are? Could I not issue my royal warrant for thrashing out all your com?" — " Ay," retorted the earl, " and could I not in return send you the heads of the thrashers?"' Bold men would they have been who had ventured to under- take that office. A striking instance of the disregard of all moral restraints among the high and mighty in that reign of misery, may be seen in the lawless robbery committed by the heir-apparent of the realm on the treasury of the knights Templars, in the year 1263. Those military monks, it is well known, were not only the masters of great wealth, but acted as bankers and money-brokers to all Europe, lending sums on rich pledges at usurious interest. Queen Eleanor, at the commencement of the troubles in which her reckless counsels had involved the king, had pawned her jewels to this fraternity. On the return of prince Edward from his victorious campaign in Wales, finding himself without the means of disbursing the arrears of pay which ho owed the troops, and unwilling to dis- band men whom he foresaw his father's cause would require, marched straightway to the Temple, and told the master that it Avas his pleasure to see the jewels of the queen his mother, as he understood they were not safely kept. On this excuse he entered the treiisury, and broke open the coffers of many persona who had lodged their money and pledges for sccmity in the hands of the Templars, and seized ten thousand poiuids sterling, principally belonging to the citizens of London, which, together with the queen's jewels, he carried off to the royal fortress of Windsor.^ A few months afterwards the queen pawned tliese jewels a second time to her sister's husband, the king of France ; that monarch, probably, regarding the robbery of the Templars as a very small siM.' ' M. I*iiri«. AihiuIh of St. Aufjuntine. Rnpin. Harrison's ' Chroniclo of Dutiinow. Rurvcy of Ijoiuloii, dc. Ac • For Louis liml jK-nnitttMl liis attaclKHl friful mid followiT, tlio lonl (1(* Joiiivillo, wlio tri»ini>li«iitly nvords tlio fiut in \m clirotiiflf of tlit' oruHiidt', to hroiik o\)f}i tilt' trciuiiivillo'8 Chmiiii'le j Vie de St. Louis [I S94 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. n Tlie active part taken by queen Eleanor and her eldest son in the mismanagement of the king^s affairs at this critical period, is recorded by Matthew Paris, who is certainly a cre- dible witness, and one who had every means of information on the subject; since, from the great respect in which his talents were held by king Henry, he was invited to dine at the royal table every day, and, as he himself states, frequently wrote in the presence and from the dictation of the king. Neither Henry nor Eleanor were probably aware how oft that sly monk took notes of their foolish sayings and evil doings, for the example of distant generations; enriching his chro- nicle, moreover, with many a choice anecdote, illustrative of the personal history of royalty in the thirteenth century. Robert of Gloucester, a contemporary thus notices the pro- ceedings of the queen, and prince Edward's pohtical opinions: " The queen went beyond sea, the king's brethren also, And ever they strove the charter to undo ; They purchiwed that the pope sliould nssoil, I wis, Of the oatli, and the charter, and the king, and all his. It was ever the queen's thought (us much as she could thinl;) To break the charter by some woman's w renche •} And though sir Edward proved a hardy knight and good. Yet this same charter was little to his mood." ]\Iany indeed were the wiles and evasions, very inconsi'itent with the stem and soldier-like plainness of his character in after life, which were practised by the valiant heir of England, while acting under the influence of his insincere mother, in the hope of circumventing the barons by fraud, if not by force. In this year, notwithstanding the reluctance of the queen,' king Henry was induced to sign an amicable iu*rangcment with the barons, by >a Inch he bound himself to confinn the j)rovi- sions of Oxford. This agrceT»?cnt, wfiich might have averted the stonn of cixil strife, wjis regarded with fierce impatience by some of tlu- dcstnirtivos of the thirteenth ccntiuy, who, eager for plunder and at hirst lor blood, findhig they were likely to be disappointed in the object which had led them to rank themselves on the side of the reforming barona * I*ron(nmcrd wrrnk, meaning twisting or wrenching tbo worvLi of Magnii Cliartu from tiieir clear uiiu Bimji'ic nigiiini'stioii. ' M. Wi-stminster. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 395 and their great dictator Montfort, raised a dreadful uproar in London against the imhappy Jews, whose wealth excited their envy and cupidity. T. Wikes, a contemporary chronicler, thus details the particulars of this tumult, which was the prelude to a personal attack upon the queen: — At the sound of St. Paul's great bell a numerous mob saUied forth, led on by Stephen BuckreU, the marshal of London, and John Fitz- John, a powerful baron. They kUled and plundered many of these wretched people without mercy. The ferocious leader, John Fitz-John, ran through with his sword, in cold blood, Kokben Abraham, the wealthiest Hebrew resident in London. Besides plundering and killing five hundred of this devoted race, the mob turned the rest out of their beds, undressed as they were, keeping them so the whole night. The next morning they commenced the work of plunder with such outrageous yells, that the queen, who was then at the Tower, seized with mortal terror, got into her barge with many of her great ladies, the wives and daughters of the noblest, intending to escape by water to Windsor-castle. But the raging populace, to whom she had rendered herself most obnoxioiLs, as soon as they observed the royal barge on the river, made a general rush to the bridge, crying, " Drown the witch ! — drown the m itch ! " at the suuie time pelting the queen with mud, addressing the most abusive language to her, and endeavouring to sink the vessel by hurling down blocks of wood and stone of an enormous weight, which they tore from the unfiaished buildings of the bridge. The poor ladies wei'e pelted with rotten eggs and sheep's bones, and every thing vile.' If the queen liad per- sisted in shooting the arcli, the boat must have been swamped, or her vessel daslKul to pieces by tlie fomiidable missiles that were aimed at her person. As it was, she with difticiilty escaped the fury of the assailants by returning to the Tower. Not considering herself safe l;here, she took sanctuary at night in the bi^hoj) of London's palace at St. Paul's, whence she was [)rivatcly removed to Windsor-castle, wherr ])rincc Edward kept garrison with his troops. This high-spirited prince never ' Matthew of Westmiiuittir. Wlkra. Speod. itapin. 396 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. lit forgave the Londoners for the insult they had thus offered to his mother.^ Though Eleanor had been a t ^ost unprincipled plunderer of the Jews, whenever opportunity served, she was accused of patronising them, because great numbers of them had flocked into England at the time of her mamage with king Henry, the Provenyal princes having always granted toleration to this people. Eleanor never forgot her terror at London-bridge, which had the eftcct of hurrpng forward the civil war. The epithets of witch and sorceress, which were liberally bestowed on the queen by her enemies from the bridge, must have originated from a strange story, preserved in the French Clironicle of London ; and however absurd the narrative may be, there is Httle doubt that it was purposely circulated among the ignorant populace by the opponents of the court, to excite a cry against the queen. The story commences by stating that Henry III., having admired the fairest damsel in the world, the queen took her privately and put her to death, by the assistance of some old sorceresses with whom she was leagued, who poisoned her with toads. At the end of the story the girl is called Rosamond, and the king described as burying her with great grief at Godstow." The enemies of the queen had not even taken the trouble to invent a new story to eninge the Londoners agamst her. Although the tale is a barefaced and evident falsehood, yet, from tlie antiquity of the work in which it is cited, there can be no doubt that it was a scnndal raised among the Londoners to her injury. At the time when the barons had agi-eed to refer their gncvanccs to tlie aibitration of St. Louis, the brother-in-law of the queen, king Henry took Eleanor with him to France, and left her there in Octul)er 12(M', with her cliildrcn, at the court of her sister Marguerite. The decimon of St. Louis, though really a rational one, did not satisfy the barons, who protested against it on the grounds of family partijiUty, and England was fortliwith involved in the ' Mutlliew f.f NWwiiiiiustur, in his Flowers of Ilitstory, detiiils thw outni^o with ■oiuo t]iint, in th«> Latin oCthu cloixtor. I nn._ U __l. <«1 •_i, ~ I iiv r mit'ii V'liiuiiii'ii hbriirj', CauuU>n 8«H'ltty. I rm._ U __l. <«1 •_1„ _/• 1 1. ..A'.l^A 1 n ~ I iiv r mit'll V'liiuiiii'iu ui liuiiuoii, «.-uiiv\t uV vji. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 39: flames of civil war. After Henry had placed his adored queen in security, and taken a tender leave of her and her young children, he returned to England to encounter the storm, with more spirit and manliness than was usual to his character. On Passion-Sunday, Henry gained a great victory at North- ampton over the barons ; he took his rebvillious nepliew, the earl of Leicester's eldest son, prisoner, together with fourteen of the leading barons.' Hemy used his victory with great moderation.' At the castle of Tunbridge the fair countess of Gloucester, the wife of one of the most inveterate of his foes, fell into his hands, but he generously set her at hberty, with the courteous remark, " that he did not war on ladies." This occasioned some scandal at the court of France, where it appears that either liis loving consort Eleanor was afflicted with a fit of jealousy, or that queen Marguerite had taken alarm for her sister; since, from among the records of the Wakefield tower, has been brought to light a curious letter from that queen on this subject."* The queen of France, \iith whom at this juncture queen Eleanor was residing, wrote to Henry III., her royal brother-in-law, thanking him for his inquiries after her health, and stating that, "thou.;h much desiring the society of her si; tor his queen, she would hasten her departure to him according to liis request ; because she feared that, on account of her long delay, he would marry some other lady, and thai as long as the countess of Glou- cester remained in liis vicinity, she should be impatient till she knew thiat her sister had joined him." These doubts and * In this action, the insurppnt stntlents of Oxford, fiftetni thonsund in nunilier, who fought under tlio banner of the university upiinst the crown, were the nioHt fonnidiilih^ of Henry's assuihints. When victory declared in his favjur, the kinpf would have inflicted u severe vonjjeunco on thcni, had he not iM'cn deterred by his counsellors, who, in a proat fripht, reminded hiir " that tiuse Ik'IUwso Bttidents were the sons and kindred oftlie nol)lcs and nia^j^natcsov the land, nuiny of them the lieirs of his own adherents withal, who hiul heen carried away by tho evil examp1i> of their eomitatiions, or excit^tl by the misdirected ardour oi youthful enthusiasm, to swell the ranks of the ]>o])ular party afrainst hiui ; and if he slew them, thrir blinxl would be terribly revenged on hiui and his, oven by tliosc nobles who fought in his kuiuso." • Caletubir of tho I?«yal lietters in the Wakefield tower. — Fourth Ileport of tho dei)uty Keener of the IJiWY^rds; t>, 117^ The It'ttiT is without date, but this id the |)ori(Kl, wu think, to which it lN.>long8. 398 ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. M ^41 fears of the queen of France, lest the mild and much-enduring Henry should take unto him a new spouse, are novel features in his domestic history. However, queen Mar^erite^s letter is evidently Avritten m a vein of playfulness that few persons would look for at that era, and we should deem the whole a piece of badinage, if this same fair countess of Gloucester had not nearly excited a civil war by her coquetries with prince Edward some time after«'ards. But that she should have made a dehberate attack on the constant heart of the old king, in the absence of the queen, would seem incredible, were not the letter of the queen^s sister indisputable. So well had the royal cause prospered in the commencement of the struggle, that when the rival armies were encamped witliin six miles of each other, near Lewes, the barons sent word to the king, that they would give him tLirty thousand marks if he would consent to a pacification. I'rince Edward, who was burning to avenge the insults which had been offered to the queen his mother, dissuaded Henry from accepting these terms, and the battle of Lewes followed. " The king and his meinie were in the priorie. When Simon came to field and raised his bannere ; He showed forth his shield, his dragon full austere : The king said on high, • Simon, je vous defie !' " The battle of Lewes was lost tlu'ough the reckless fury with which the fiery heir of England pursued the flying Londoners, in order to avenge their incivility in pelting his mother at their bridge. He folloAved them with his cavalry, shouting the name of queen Eleanor, as far as Croydon, where he made a nj'?rciles8 slaughter of the hapless citizens. When he returned to the field of battle with his jaded cavalry, he found his father, who had lost the support of all the horse, had been captured, with his uncle the king of tlie Romans^ and Edward had no other resource than surrendering himself also to Leicester, who conveyed him, with his other royal pnsoners, to the castle of W'ailingford. The remnant of the royal army retreated to Bnstol-castle, under the command of seven knights, who reared seven banners on the walls. The queen Avas said by some to be safe in France, but old dobert of Giouce^stur asserts that she ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 399 was espy'^ in the land, for the purpose of liberating her brave son. Let this be as it may, she sent word to sir Warren de Basingboume, her son's favourite knight and one of the gallant defenders of Bristol, " that Wallingford was but feebly guarded, and that her son might be released, if he and the rest of the Bristol garrison would attack it by surprise." Directly sir Warren received the queen's message, he, with three hundred horse, crossed the country, and arrived at Wallingford on a Friday, just as the sun rose, and, right against All Hallows' church, made the first fierce attack on the castle, and won the outermost wall. The besieged defended themselves furiously with cross-bows and battle engines : at last they called out to sir Warren, that " If they wanted sire Edward the prince, they should have him, but bound hand and foot, and shot from the mangonel," — a terrific machine used for casting stones. As soon as the prince heard of this murderous intention, he demanded leave to speak with his friends, and coming on the wall, assm'ed them, " that if they persevered, he should be destroyed." Whereupon sir Warren and his chevaUers retired in great dejection. Simon de Montfort then transferred all his royal prisoners, for safer keeping, to Kenilworth-castle, where Edward's aunt, his countess, was abiding, and who v>fiered them " all the solace she could." The queen, thus disappointed in the liberation of her gallant heir, soon after found a partisan in a lady strongly attached to her. This was lady Maud Mortimer. Lorrl Roger Mortimer had, much against the Avishes of his lady, given liis poAvei-ml aid to Leicester; but having received some affront since the victory of Lewes, he now turned a complacent eai to the loyal pleadings of lady Maud in behalf of the queen and her son.'^ What aU the valour of sir WaiTen failed to acconiphsh, the wit of woman effected. Lady Maud IMortiraer having sent her instructions to prince I'ldward, he made his escape by riding races with his attciulants till he had tired their horses, when he rode up to a thicket, M'hcre dame Maud had ambushed a swift steed. Momiting his gallant coiu-scr, Edward turned ' CcnccoloiL ' Kobort of Glouoeattir. 400 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. f ' to his guard, and bade them (( lend him to his sire the )mme king^ and tell him he would soon be at Hberty," and then galloped off; while an armed party appeared on the opposite hill, a mile distant, and displayed the banner of Mortimer. " Why should halt a long tale ? He off scaped so. To the cistle of Wigmore the way soon he took ; There was joy and bliss enow, when he came thither. To the lady of that castle, dame Maud de Mortimer." Eleanor had, soon after the disastrous field of Lewes, bor- rowed all the money she could raise on her jewels and credit. When she heard of her son^s escape, she proceeded to muster forces and equip a fleet. Matthew of Westminster does full justice to the energetic efforts of " this noble virago," as he styles queen Eleanor, for the hberation of her liusband. " She succeeded," he says, " in getting together a great army, com- manded by so many dukes and earls as seemed incredible ; and those who knew the strength and power of that army affirmed, '' that if they had once landed in England, they would presently have subdued the whole population of the country ; but God in his mercy," continues the chronicler, " ordered it otherwise." The queen and her armament remained long wind-bound, and 'u the mean time Leicester encamped with his victorious army on Barham-downs, in readiness to attack her in the e^'ent of her attempting to land.^ There are letters in the Foedera, written during Hemy's captivity, addressed by him " to queen Eleanor, abiding in foreign parts," in which " he assures her of his health and comfort, and continued affection for her and their children, and of his good hopes of a happy peace being soon estabUshed (tlirough the blessing of God) in his dominions." These letters are, however, evidently written under the restraint and dicta- tion of the earl of Leicester, since the captive monarch desires, nay, commands the queen to "abstain from any attempts to alter the state of things, and chai'ges her to exhort liis heir not to interfere in any way against his will, which will be further ex])lained by master Edward de Carol, the deacon of Wells, who is the bearer of these missives." They ai-e dated * ilalsted H mst. ot n.ent. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 401 "Windsor, 18th of November, 1264.^ Eleanor, of cuorse, paid no regard to the forced mandates of her unfortunate consort, but, like a faithftd helpmate in the time of trouble, exerted all the energies of her r \ture for his dehverance. Possessing the pen of a ready wnter, she addressed the most persuasive letters to ^ rban IV. and his legates, setting forth the zeal and obedience her husband had ever shown to the church." She obtained bulls in favour of her party, wliich were of great service to the royal cause. Wliile queen Eleanor remained wind-bound on the coast of France, the battle of Evesham was fought and won by her son, prince Edward. Leicester mistook prince Edward^s army for that of his own son, Simon de Montfort, which the prince had intercepted and dispersed. When Leicester (hscovered his error, he was struck with consternation, and exclaimed, " May the Lord have mercy on our souls ! for our bodies are the prince's."^ Leicester exposed his royal prisoner and former benefactor, king Henry, to the shafts of his own friends, by placing him in the front of the battle. Poor Henry was wounded with a javelin in the shoulder, f»nd was in imminent danger of being slain by a royalist soldier, who, mistaking him for one of Leicester's party, would have cut him down, had he not cried out, in a lamentable voice, " Slay me not : I am Henrj' of Winchester, your king." An officer, this, ran to his assistance, rescued him trom his hearing Rymer's Fcedera, vol. Matthew of Westminster. ' Roljert of Gloucester, in stnrns of rugged strength, bewails the death of Leicester, and describes the singular darkness which overshadowed the fatal pMn of Evesham " wliile England's barons fought a field." " Such was the murthcr of Evesham, for battle none it was." He proceeds to say, that the victory was much displeasing to the Saviour, who sent a token of his anger by a daritness over the middle earth, such as befell when he died on the rood. For, " The while the good men at •Evesham were slew. In the north-west a d."rk weather arose. Suddenly swart enow that many men egros, [terrified] And overcast all throu' h the land, that nic might scarcely see, (irislier weather than it .vas might not on earth Ix; ; Few drops of rain fell, bu* they wore large enow. Tokening well through the land, wlicn tlicse men were slew. For thirty mile then. This I saw, (Roberd rin-_j- a j. j.i. _c :j » VOL. 1. XllUt lU'Bt l.llil UUUJi, mUlMl,) U.1IU 1 WUS nUl'U lUIiUU. D D 402 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. perilous situation, and brought him to prince Edward, who, greeting him with the tenderest affection, knelt and implored his blessing ; and then, leaving a strong guard for his protec- tion, pursueii .xis victorious career. Thic battle was fought on the 4th of Ar tnst, 1265, four- teen months after the defeat and capture of tlic king at Lewes. Though great provocation had been given to the king and every member of the royal family, there was not a single drop of blood shed on the scaffold after this decisive triumph. Henry, with aU his faults and foUies, was tender of human life, and mindful that the noblest prerogative of the crown is mercy. Neither is it recorded of queen Eleanor that she ever caused a sanguinary vengeance to be inflicted on any of her foes. King Henry, however, made the Lon- doners pay pretty dearly for the pelting they had bestowed on the high and mighty lady, his companion.^ His act of grace commences thus : — " Know ye, that in consideration of twenty thousand marks, paid to us by our citizens of London, as an atonement for their great crimes and misde- meanors against us, our royal consort, our royal brother, Richard king of the Romans, and our dear son Edward, that we have aud do, by these our presents, remit, forgive, acqui', ' &:; &c. This enormous fine was not paid into the king^s excliequer, every farthing of it being devoted to queen ' He divested the city of its ancient charters, caused its posts and chains to be taken away, and ordered the mayor, with a party of the principal citizens, to attend liim at Windsor, to confirm the instrument of their own degradation by affixing the seal of the city to a \vritten form of theii* submission to the royal mercy. Wlien they an-ived at Windsor, they were treated with the utmost con- tumely by the officers of the royal hoasehold, and committed to the custody of the constable of the castle, who shut them np in the keep till the following day; when, as a great favour, they were bestowed in less alarming lodgings, except the mayor and four of the most obnoxious to the royal cause, who were delivered to prince Kdward, and by him subjected to a rigorous confinement till they had paid ransom for their own persons, and consented to petition the king to name a sum as the price of reconciliation with the city of London. Henry, not being a prince to whom carte blanche terms could be oflered with impunity, demanded the enormous fine of sixty thousand marks. But the luckless citizens i)l('aded so movingly the impossibility of raising so unreasonable a sum, without involving in litter ruin many families who had been guiltless of all ofteuce against him and the queen, that he wsis at length induced to moderate his demands to twenty thou- sand marks, — Harrison's Survev. ELEAXOR OF PROVENCE. 403 Eleanor's use, and by her desire it was transmitted to certain persons in France, wlio had supplied her with money at her need, dming her ex le from England.* As for Henry, he had a ricli harvest of fines and confisca- tions, granted by his obliging parliament from the lands of the rebel barons. The *^ disinherited,^^ as they were called, who were thus stripped of their ^iatrimony, having nothing more to lose than their lives, " 'ised a fresh revolt under the banner of Simon do ^io11♦''ort, L< "ester's eldest son by king Henry's sister, Tl.^ ucls of this rebeUion were happily averted by tht ir '' the queen, who landed at Dover, October 29th, legate, cardinal Ottoboiic, England, for the purpose ru ang with her the pope's ' she had induced to visit iiurling the anathema of the church against the rebel barons. Ottobone accordingly convened a synod, and solemnly excommunicated aU the ad- herents of the late e.irl of Leicester, whether living or dead, which had a Avonderftd effect in suppressing the insurrection. The discontented annalists of the era mention this event by saying that the queen returned with the legate, and that " together they made a great cursing." Thus did Eleanor see the happy termination of the barons' wars, and was once more settled with her royal partner on the throne of England. In the year 1267, the formidable revolt of the eai-1 of Gloucester occurred. Fortunately for the queen, she was at Windsor when his partisans stormed her palace at West- minster, which they sacked, breaking and destroying every thing they could not carry away, even to the doors and windows, and making a great slaughter of the royal domestics, who offered some slight resistance. They also did great mischief to the beautiful new-built abbey. Four of these banditti being discovered to be the servants of the earl of Derby, were, by that nobleman's orders, tied up in sacks, and thrown into the Thames.'' It was at this juncture that prince Edward personally encountered the last adherent of Leicester, and overcame him. Hemmingford and Wikes re- cord in these words a fact highly creditable both to Eleanor and her son : — •• Edward engaged the brave outlaw, Adam de * AiiuaU of Loudon. T. Wikes. * Stowe. D D 3 "V^. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) 1.0 I.I If 1^ i^ u lU 122 2.0 1.8 pS 1.4 1.6 6" ^ v] /] '# ^^ J /^ /^>^^>. y PhotDgraphic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRII1 WIISTIR.NV 14510 (716) •7)-4S03 404 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. \ Goidon^ in Alton-wood, hand to hand, and fairly conquered him in a personal encounter. After granting him his life, he brought him to his wife's palace of Guildford, where his mother happened to be that evening, and introducing him to the queen, pleaded so earnestly for him, that Henry III. pardoned this adherent of Leicester, and Eleanor soon after gave Gordon an office at Windsor-castle.'" St. Edward's chapel being now completed, and forming the crowning glory of that sublime chef d'ceuvre of gothic archi- tecture, St. Peter's-abbey at Westminster, which Henry III. had been fifty years in building, he, on the 13th of October, St. Edward's-day, 1269, assisted by his sons Edward and Edmund, and his brother the king of the Romans, bore the bier of the royal saint on his shoulders, and, in the presence of his queen and all the nobles of his court, placed it in its new station. Queen Eleanor offered a silver image of the \ Virgin, and other jewels of great value, at the shrine. King Henry reserved the old coffin of St. Edward for his own private use; having, with his usual simplicity, an idea that its previous occupation by the royal saint had made it a peculiarly desirable tenement.^ From the Exchequer rolls of this reign" some light is thrown on the domestic usages of royalty in the middle ages. The roytil table was, it should seem, chiefly supplied by the sheriff's of the coimties or the baihffs of towns. Thus, we find that the sheriff of the counties of Buckingham and Bedford, by the king's command, on one occasion brought four hundred and twenty-eight hens to Westminster for his use. The bailiff's of Bristol provided conger eels, and the sheriffs of Essex fowls and other victuals. The baihft's of Newhaven brought lampreys. The sheriff of Gloucester was commanded to put twenty salmons into his pies, against Christmas. The herring-pies of Yarmouth and Norwich still form part of their quit-rent to the crown. The sheriff of Sussex was to furnish brawn, and other provisions for the royal use. The sheriff of Wiltshire provided oxen, hogs, Bheep, fruit, com, and mtmy other tilings for the queen, when r i-uiii i>iio uiif^iiiU Lin'.!.. " Wikoi, ' Madux, Uiat. Exchoq. Liberat. 37 U. III. m. 4. ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. 405 she was at her dower-castle of Marlborough. These requi- sitions were, however, by no means confined to eatables. In the tlurty-seventh of Henry III.'s reign, the sheriffs of Wilt- shire and Sussex were each ordered to buy a thousand ells of fine linen, and to send it to the royal wardrobe at Westminster before the next Whitsuntide ; and the linen was to be very fair and deUcate in quality. In the forty-second of Henry, the sheriffs of Norfolk and Suffolk were commanded to dis- burse thirty bezants, to be offered at St. Edmund's shrine for the king and queen, and their children. The sheriff of Not- tinghamshire was enjoined to cause the queen's chamber at Nottingham-castle to be painted with the history of Alexander the Great; and the sheriff of Southampton to cause the image of St. Christopher, with our Saviour in his arms, and the image of St. Edward the king, to be painted in her chapel at Winchester.' In one of the Tower rolls, dated Woodstock, April 30th, in the thirty-second year of Henry III.'s reign, that monarch directs his treasurer and chamberlain to pay master Henry the poet, whom he affectionately styles " our beloved master Henry, the versificator," one himdred shillings, due to liim for the arrears of his salary, enjoining them to pay it without delay, thjugh the exchequer was then shut. In Henry's thirty- fourth year, occurs his order to the master of the Temple, that he dehver to ' Henry of the wardrobe,' for two years' use, " a certain great book, which is at his house in London, written in French, containing the acts of the king of Antioch, and of other kinpn." It had been compiled and iUuminated under the care of Henry himself, and if it was, as supposed, relating to the crusading Proven9al princes of Antioch, it would be a valuable history.' In tlie great roll of the forty-ninth of Henry III. there is a curious account of queen Eleanor's wai'drobe expenses, as ' Miulox, Hist. Exchequer Itolls, Memoranda and Lilwrat. of tliat reipn. Some of th(«o HuppUt« we know were quit-rents, m tlie lierrint^c-P'c^^ of Yiuniiouth and Norwic'li. The sheriffH, in other instiincen, houffht tlie pnHluctions for whieh each Iwality was fainoua, and pwd theinwlves out of the erown-ronts of the uouuty or city. ■ Clv.Ht^ KoIIm, quot^Hl by Umyloy ; Hist. Palace of We«tnnn.us obseituies, in Westminster-ahljoy, near the altar ; her stately monument and elhgy a«Ulin!X another ornament to the mar\els of sculj)t>u'ed art, with which the excpUHite tuslo of Henry lU. had graced that august reiKJsltory of England's royal dead. / .. 408 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. that of the king of the Komans^ for grief of which king Henry fell into the deepest dejection of mind, and having been in person to quell a riot in Norwich, in which great part of the cathedral was burnt, he was attacked with a mortal sickness at Bury St. Edmund's; but his anxiety to settle the affairs of the kingdom caused him to insist on being carried forward to London by short stages. When the dying monarch arrived in the metropohs, finding his dissolution at hand, he summoned Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, into his presence, and made him swear to preserve the peace of England during the absence of prince Edward. He expired on the 16th of November, 1272, aged sixty-six, having reigned fifty-six years and twenty-days. His decease happening in the night, John Kirkeby dehvered the royal seal the next morning to Peter of Winchester, keeper of the wardrobe, the archbishop of York, and the rest of the council.' By the. only will king Henry eve^* made, queen Eleanor having been appointed regent of Lngland, she caused the coimcil to assemble at the new Temple on the 20th of November, the feast of St. Edmund the martyr and king, where, by her con- sent" and appointment, and the advice of Robert Kilwardby, archbishop of Canterbury, the earl of Gloucester, and the chief peers and prelates of the realm, her eldest son, prince Ed- ward, was proclaimed king of England, by the style and title of Edward I. The remains of king Henry, royally robed and crowned, were, .iccording to his own desire, placed in the old coffin in which the body of Edward the Confessor had originally been interred, and buried near the shrine of that monarch in West- minster-abbey. The knights-Templars, with the consent of queen Eleanor, his widow, undertook the care and expense of his funeral, which was very magnificent.^ They raised a sump- tuous monument to his memory, which was afterwards richly inlaid with jasper and precious stones, brought from the Holy Land by his son Edward I. for that purpose. His recumbent statue is in fine preservation, — a noble work of art. Stowe gives the following translation of his Latin epitaph : — ' Stowe. ' Spcttl. Sir H. Nicolua. Cliron. Hist. ■ Hiirruion's Survey. I ELEANOR OP PROVENCE. 409 * The friend of pity and alms-deed, Hemy the Third whilome of England king, Who this church hrake, and after, at his meed. Again renewed into this fair building. Now resteth here, which did so great a thing." The pope addressed a pastoral letter of condolence to Eleanor on the death of the king her husband : it is written jointly to her and king Edward, whom he feUcitates on his accession, and requests Eleanor to give him the letter on his return. One of the first things that occupied the attention of the royal widow was, the refounding St. Katherine's hos- pital, for a master, a chaplain, three sisters, ten bedewomen, and six poor scholars; she having previously dissolved the original estabhshment of Matilda of Boulogne, on account of misgovemment. Soon after his return, Edward I. was forced to rectify a wrong committed by his mother, which was much in the style of her former acts of rapacity. Just before the death of her husband, she had persuaded him to grant her the custody of London-bridge for six years. Before the term was expired, the citizens found their new-built bridge was suffering great injury, " for," they declared, in their supplication to the king, " the said lady queen taketh all the toUs, and careth not how the bridge is kept."' The very first patent granted by Ed- ward I. in the first year of his reign, is the concession of her dower to his royal mother. This document, which is still preserved among the patent rolls in the Tower, is entituled, — • " Ample assignation of a dowry to Alianora, queen of England, mother of the king." There are also patents granted to her in the eighth and eighteenth years of the reign of Edward I. Eleanor lost her husband and both her daughters in one year ; for scarcely had the tomb closed over the mortal remains of her royal lord, ere she was called upon to mourn the death of her eldest daughter, Margaret queen of Scotland. This lady had come to pay her mother a dutiful visit of condolence on the death of the king her father, and died in England in the thirty-third year of her age, and the twenty-second of her marriage, leaving only one daughter, who was married to Eric, ' Stowe's London. 410 ELEANOB OF PROVENCE. ( i king of Norway. The death of the quieen of Scotland was followed by that of her sister, the duchess of Bretagne, who came, with her lord, to witness the coronation of her royal brother Edward, and died very unexpectedly a few days after- wards, in the thirtieth year of her age, greatly lamented by her illustrious consort, and by her mother queen Eleanor. Matthew of Westminster says she was a princess of great beauty and v. it.* Queen Eleanor and Edward I. preserved a great regard for the duke of Bretagne after the decease of lady Beatrice. There is a letter in the second volume of the Foedera, from Eleanor, during her widowhood, to the king her son, in which she appears to take a Hvely interest in the welfare of her son- in-law. It is thus headed, — "Letter ({f AUanora, the Mother of the King, for John Duke of Bretagne, while travelling in afar Country? " Alianor, by the grace of God, queen of England, to the king our son, health with our benison. " Inasmuch, as our son, John of Bretagne, is in a foreign land, and requires of me as his mother, and you as his lord, some recommendation, our sir John de Maurre (his seneschal in England) ought to go to La Doure quickly to hear cer- tain tidings of his lord. We pray and require that you would grant this, as my sir Nicol de Stapleton can attend to liis wants in this country, and we wish that you would send your letter by liim, as he will understand it, for he will not go * There is a letter in the first volume of the Foedera, from Blanche duchess of Bretagne, the mother-in-law of this princess, addressed to Henry III., in which there is affectionate mention made of Beatrice and her eldest son. We transcribe the letter, as affording one of the earliest specimens of familiar correspondence between royal personages in the middle ages. After the usual superscription to her very high and very dear lord Henry, by the grace of God king of England, &c. &c., she commences: — " Siie, I pray you that you will be pleased to inform us of your state, which may oiu* Lord of his grace make always good ; for know, my dear lord, that I have great joy at all times in having go«xi news of you. — Know, sire, that my lady Beatrice, your dear daughter and om-s, is still sick of her fever, but is much better, God be thanked, and her pliysicians tell us that her fever cannot last long. — I pray you, my dear lord, if we have any thing in our parts that you would like me to send, to inform me ; for know, sire, that I shall have very great joy if I can do any thing for you. And know, sire, that Arthur is good and very beautiflil, God be thanked ! Oiu* Lord have you in his care." This letter is dated 1265, and is written in old French. There is also a letter in Latin, from the young duchess Beatrice to the king her father, on the same page of the Fccdera, written at the time of this illness, which she says is "a qu8ui:an fever or ague," and she entreats her father " not to distress himself on account of her indisposition." She had six children by the duke of Bretagne, with wliom •he lived liappily twelve years. She was buried in the church of the Grey Friars. ' Kymcr'a Foedera, vol. ii. p. 221. ELEANOR OP PROVENCE.' 411 go ck of her our shall thur ■are." er in page ortan jount vliom rian. without your especial command ; and we pray yon that you will do it qmokly, and if you will please to give the power by your letter that he may have attome^ where he pleases, the same as you granted to the sire de Dreux, his brother. " And excuse sir John de Maurre that he cannot make his conge to you before he departs, for he cannot do it on account of haste. We commend you to Cbd. " Given at Lutgersliall, 8th day of October." It is probable that Eleanor was suflfering from some kind of sickness in the year 1275, for we find in the Foedera a protection granted by Edward I. "to master William, the Proven9al physico to the queen-mother, whom the said queen had procured to come to her from beyond seas." It is espe- cially provided, in this protection, " that the Proven9al phy- sician is to be left in quiet at aU times and places, save that he is to be answerable for any debts that he may contract in this country." It has been generally asserted that Eleanor of Provence entered the nunnery of Ambresbiuy soon after the coronation of her son Edward I. ; but this does not appear to have been the case, for several of her precepts and letters are dated from Waltham, Guildford, Lutgershall, and other places."^ She retired to Ambresbury as a residence in 1280, having made up her mind to embrace a religious life; but delayed her profession tiU she could obtain leave from the pope to retain her rich dower as queen-dowager of England.^ There is an original letter from queen Eleanor to her son, king Edward, dated from Waltham : — " Alianora, by the grace of God, queen of England, to our dear son the king, health and our blessing. " We have sent your prayer ^'> the king of France, that he may lend his aid in purchasing our share of tht >.< i of Provence.* We have done the letter for you which you sent to us, and we .ray you to hear it read, and if it please you, have it sealed ; and if not, that you would be pleased to command it to be amended, and sent forthwith to your aunt, my lady of France. Wo also entreat you that you would send to mestre Bonet, your clerk, that he would show and advance this request in the court of France as much as he can. We commend you to God. " Given at Waltham, 8th day of July, 1282." The four younger sons of queen Eleanor, Richard, John, WUham, and Henry, all died before the king their father ; so ' Suppose attorney-letters of pecumary credit. ' Rymer, vol. iL ' T. Wikes. Annals of Waverley. * From this letter it appears that the surviving co-heiresses of Provence, of whom our Eleanor was one, compounded their rights for money to their young sister, who by the will of their lather Beronger, was to succeed to the sovereignty of that district. ^' 412 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. that, of her nine children, two sons only were surviving at the time she retired to Anibresbury. In the year 1280, her son king Edward visited her there, when he was on his march to A^'ales. Queen Eleanor then showed him a man who said he had received his sight through the miraculous interposition of the late king Henry III., in consequence of having oflFered up prayers at his tomb. Edward, whose sound judgment taught him to regard the legend with the contempt its false- hood merited, entreated his mother not to bestow her patronage on a base impostor, whom a prince of his father's piety and justice would certainly rather have punished with loss of speech for his hjrpocrisy than restored to sight, had he indeed possessed the power of doing either.' The foUowing letter to the king, her son, shows how keen a regard the royal recluse had to her own interest, and the jealous vigilance with which she watched the proceedings of her Provenjal kindred : — *' Eliunor, by God's grace queen of England, to our dear son Edward, by the same grace king of England, health and our blessing. " Know, sweet son, that we have understood that a marriage is in agitation between the son of the king of Sicily and the daughter of the king of Germany; and if this alliance is made, we may he disturbed in the right that we have to the fourth part of Provence, which thing would be great damage to us, and this damage would be both ours and yours. Wherefore we pray and require you, that you will specially write to the said king, that since Provence is held from the empire, (and his dignity demands that he should have right done to us about it,) he will regard the right we have, and cause us to hold it. Of this tiling wo especially require you, and commit you to God.' Richard earl of Cornwall, usually called Richard king of the Romans, or Richard of Almaine, is the person whose alhance with her brother-in-law, Charles king of Sicily, had excited the jealousy of Eleanor of Provence. The marriage never took place, whether on account of the jealousy of queen Eleanor regarding the safety of her slice of Provence, or that death claimed the only daughter of Richard* as bride, is not ascertained. Eleanor was at this time much harassed in mind regarding her native dominions, for, in another letter ' M.. Westminster. T. Wikes. '^ Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies, vol. i. p. 51. ' Mentioned in Burke's Extinct Peerage. No marriage can bo traced of this lady. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 413 to her son, she complains that " Our sister Margaret, my lady of France, has been trespassing where she ought not in Pro- vence." Queen Eleanor constantly received the tenderest attention and respect from her son king Edward, who regarded her with great affection; and once, when he was going to Prance to meet the king his cousin, on a matter of the greatest importance, and had advanced as far as Canterbury on his joiuiiey, receiving intelligence of the sudden and alarming illness of his mother, he instantly gave up his French voyage, and hastened to her. The long-delayed profession of the royal widow took place in the year 1284, when, says her eloquent contemporary, Wikes, "she deposed the diadem from her head and the precious purple from her shoulders, and with them all worldly ambition." Matthew of Westminster records her profession in these words : — " That generous virago, ^lianora queen of England, mother of the king, took the veil and rehgioua habit at Ambresbury, on the day of. the translation of St. Thomas, archbishop of Canterbury, having obtained leave of the pope to keep possession of her dower in perpetuity, accordhig to her wish." Two young princely probationers in the early flower of their days, Mary, fifth daughter of Edward I., and Eleanor daughter of the deceased duchess of Bretagne, approached the altar with their world-weary gi'andame queen Eleanor, and demanded permission to devote themselves to a religious life, through her persuasions as it was supposed; they were veiled at the same time and place with her. After queen Eleanor's profession, her imcle, Philip earl of Savoy, applied to her and her son, king Edward, requesting them to choose from among his nephews a successor to his dominions, as he was himself childless, and distracted by the intrigues and quarrels of the rival claimants.' There is a long letter in the Foedera on this subject, addressed jointly to Eleanor, the queen-mother, and king Edward her son, by the dying earl, in which he entreats them to decide for him, and " declares that his bishops and nobles are willing to recognise whomsoever they may think proper to appoint for Ids heir." ^ Rymer's Fcedcru, vol ii. I 414 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. Queen Eleanor was, in the following year, named as executor to Philip of Savoy's last will and testament, jointly with her son, king Edward. The testator, with many com- pliments to " the wisdom, prudence, affection, and more than that, the good faith and probity of the queen and her son, commits the disposal of all his personal property to be by them divided between all his nephews and nieces/' ' It appears that Amadeus, the son of the deceased Thomas of Savoy, earl of Flanders, was the sovereign chosen by queen Eleanor and her son, king Edward, to succeed to the dominions of her dying uncle. When Eleanor's life was fast ebbing away, and she lay moaning with pain on her sick-bed, it is recorded that she gave excellent counsel to her son, regarding a very perplexing affair which had just happened at his court. Edward had given refiige to a state-prisoner, who had escaped from the Chdtelet in Paris. This Frenchman was a literary character, and named Thomas de Turbeville. It tmned out that Turbe- ville was in reality a spy, a clerk of the king's council having intercepted a letter, in which the ungrateful man described the best place for seizing king Edward, and taking him prisoner to France. Turbeville, being fuUy convicted of treason, was condemned to be executed; "but," says Piers, from whom we draw the story, " he had dread to die," and sent the king word that he was willing to confess who had instigated the crime, as several great men at court were impUcated in the attempt. Thomas was therefore respited, tiU the king's pleasure was known. The dutiful monarch was watching by the bedside of his aged mother when the message was deUvered, " that a confession regarding accomplices, usually extorted by torture, was voluntarily offered by Thomas, sur- named Troubletown," the Uteral interpretation of the name of Tm-beville. But the dying queen-mother seeing, perhaps, the things of this world by the light of that which was approaching, offered advice full of wisdom on the subject : — " At Ambresbury the king with liis moder was. When to him came tiding of Troubletown Thomas. * Rymer's Foedera, vol. ii. ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 415 ** Tlicy told him a deal Thomas would say to him, To warn him full well which were his traitors grim. His moder Eleanore abated her great bale,' * Son,' said she, ' never more trow the traitor's tale : Traitors such as he for hate will make a lie, And through each word will he vengeance and felony. Son, on my blessing, trow you not his saw. But let him have ending as traitor by law."' Edward took this wise advice, and Turbeville died without his confession being required, — a proceeding which saved the king from many tormenting suspicions regarding the fideUty of his servants. Among the royal letters preserved with the Tower records, occurs another from " the Ladye of gay Provence/' after she had become the humble nun of Ambresbury. The queen- mother was, nevertheless, still a power which was invoked by her order when their privilej^ es were in danger. The great convent of the Benedictines at Foiitevr-iud, of which Ambres- bury was a branch, had entreated their royal penitent to prefer the following petition to her son. The original is written in Norman French, and the style is naive and famihar, like all this queen's other epistles. "Elinor, Queen-dowagee, to Edwabd I.' " To the most noble prince and our dearest son Edward, by God's grace king of England, lord of Ireland, and duke of Guienne, Elinor, humble nun of the order of Pontevraud, of the convent of Ambresbury, health and our blessing. " Sweetest son, our abbess of Fontevraud has prayed us that we would entreat the king of Sicily to guard and preserve the franchises of her house, which some people wish to damage : and because we know well that he will do much more for your prayer than he will for ours, (for you have better deserved it,) we prsiy you, good son, that for love of us you will request and specially require this thinj^ from him, and that he will command that the things which the abbess holds in his lordship may be in his guard and protection, and that neither she nor hers may be molested or grieved. " Good son, if it please you, command that the billet be hastily deliviired. Wo wish you health in the sweet Jesus, to whom we commend you." Charles king of Sicily, possessing a portion of Provence in right of Beatrice, queen Eleanor's sister, the widely-spreading dependencies of Fontevraud in that country, felt some appre- hension lest this rapacious prince should not prove good lord to them. Hence the application made to the royal votaress, who was veiled in their great Enghsh convent. * Ceased from moaning with pain. ' Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies, by M. A. E. Wood, vol. 3. p. 59. 416 ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. Eleanor's next epistle to her son bears a more geteral interest than the conventual suppHcation : it is an entreaty that the mother of one of the royal wards may see her son. This letter is hkewise one of those lately discovered among the Tower records. The original is in Norman French. " Elinob, Queen-dowagee, to Edwabd I.' " To the most noble prince and her very dear son Edward, by God's grace king of England, lord of Ireland, and duke of Aquitainc, Elinor, humble nun of the order of Fontevraud, of the convent of Ambrcsbury, wishes health and her blessing. " Sweetesic son, we know well how great is the desire that a mother has to see her child when she has been long away from him, and that dume Margaret Neville, companion [consort] of master John Giffard, has not seen for a long time past her chUd, who is in the keeping of dame Margaret de WeyLmd, and haa a great desire to see him. " We pray you, sweetest son, that you will command and pray the nfuresaid Margaret de Weyland, that she will suifer that the mothoi' may have t' ^sulaoe of her child for some time, after her desire. " Dearest son, we commend you to God. Given at Ambrcsbury the fourth day of March." The heart which prompted this pretty simple appeal, however purified from the vanities of the world, evidently retained its human sympathies. The charities of Eleanor, too, were exemplary : every Friday she distributed from her convent 5/. in silver among the poor.-* It ought to be remembered, for the better appreciation of this conduct, that the destitute in those days had no support but conventual alms. Eleanor of Provence survived the king her husband nineteen years. She died at the niuuiery of Ambrcsbury, Jmie 24th, during the absence of her son in Scotland. Thomas Wikes thus records the particulars of her death and burial, in his Latin chronicle : " The fleeting state of worldly glory is shown bv tlie fact, that the same year carried oft' two English (jueens, wife mid mother of the king, both inexpressibly dear to liim. The nuns of Ambrcsbury not being able to sepulture the queen-mother with sufticient magnificence, had her body embalnied, so that no conniption ensued, and in a retired place reverentially deposited it, till Edward returned from his Scottish campjiign. On the king's return, he summoned all ' Letters of Royal and Illustrious Ladies, by M. A. E. Wood, vol. i. p. 61* (Freucli). ' Chron. Lancroost, quoted ibid. '\ ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 417 leens, him. e the body 5tircd ■m his d all p. 61, his clergy and barons to Ambresbury, where he solemnly completed the entombing of his mother, on the day of the Nativity of the Blessed Mary, in her conventual church, where her obsequies were reverently celebrated. But the heart of his mother king Edward carried with him to London, — indeed, he brought there the hearts of both the queens ;' and, on the next Sunday, the day of St. Nicholas, before a vast multitude, they were honourably interred, the conjugal heart in the church of the Friars Preachers, and the maternal heart in that of the Friars Minors,^ in the same city." Among the parhanientary rolls we meet with a remarkably pitifiil petition from the converted Jews, patronised " by dame AUanor, companion of king Henry III.," setting forth, " That their converts had been promised two hundred and two pounds and four-pence from the exchequer for their sustenance, wliich had not been received by them ; and that the poor converts prayed their lord, king Edward I., to grant the same, seeing that the said poor converts prayed indefatigably for the souls of the late king Henry and the queen Eleanor, his companion, on whom God have mercy ; therefore they hope the said sum may be paid by the treasurer for the sustenance of the con- verts. For God's sake, sire, take pitie!" is the concluding sentence of this moving supplication. Queen Eleanor survived to see the conquest of Wales, and the contract of marriage between her grandson, Edward of Caernarvon, the heir of England, and her great-grandaughtcr Margaret, the heiress of Scotland and Norway, through whicli a peaceful union of those realms with England, Ireland, Wales, Aquitaine, and Ponthieu was contemplated ; an arrangement which promised to render her descendants the most powerful sovereigns in IJlurope. ' This implies that ho had carried the heart of his beloved consort with him to S(X)tland. • Commonly cnllod the Minorios. Those luitliors iire mistiikon who siiy slie ih buried in St. Edward's chnpel j there is no mumunto uf her in We8tnuti»ter-abbi<}'« VOL. I. E E y ELEANORA OF CASTILE, SURNAMED THE FAITHFUL, FIRST QUEEN OF EDWARD L Eleanora infanta of Castile — Descent— Inheritance— Marriage-treaty — Queta- mother and prince Edward visit Spain— Eleanora's marriage at Burgos — Festival — Eleanora's .journey to England — Eleanora retires to France — Returns to England — Sons bom — Crusatle — Eleanora prepares to share it — Arrives at Acre — Edward's wound — Assassin — Grief of Eleanora — Prince Edward's illness — His will — Birth of Joanna of Acre — Death of Eleanora's sons — Of king Henry — Queen Eleanor visits Rome — Birth of an heir at Maine — Providential escape of king and queen — Land at Dover — Coronation — War — MaiTiuge of Llewellyn — Eleanora nssista at nuptials — War renewed — Eleanora shares Edward's campaigns — Keeps court at Rhuddlan — Piincess born in Wales — Caernarvon-castle — Queen's chamber — The Eagle tower — Birth of prince Edward — Death of prince Alphonso — Queen at Ouienne — Birth of younger daughters — Queen's plate — Edward departs for the north — Eleanora follows him — Sudden death — King returns — IIin extreme grief — Follows her corpse — Solemn mourning — Burial — Tomb — Epitaph — Crosses to Eleanora's menioi-y — Traits of the times — Eleanora's improvements — Her creditors — Prayers for her soul — Her children. The marriage of the infanta donna Eleanora of Castile with prince Edward, heir of England, happily terminated a war wliich her brother, king Alphonso, sumamed * the Astro- nomer,*' was waging with Henry III., on account of some obsolete cliiims the Castilian monarch laid to the province of ' He wa« the celebrated royal philosopher who inventetl the Alphonsino tables «: y — Quetn- Burgos — )— Returns -Arrives at ard's illness s — Of king Providential MaiTiagc of [lora slmrcs in Wales — I of prince of younger lora follows ler corpse — a's inenioiy Prayers for stile with d a war le Astro- of some 'ovince of )nsino tables i-f'm- lt,:,,.-v ,i/ii: 0^-,''- .* j(^ 1-.LKAN0KA OF CASTILE SrUNABIElJ THE rAlTUFUL, FirwST QU1JF.K OV EDWARD L Kcstirirn irfantn of Cfl^tilf:— Pobcenf — Tuhcr'tiinc'-. -Marriagivtrofllv — '.mjix,'- niotluT and jirhitc Kdftar',1 v'nit Syf^ia— Elenuoru'.< iiiarrHigc itl liarjjois — F<»8ti vitl-— KiMTuna'* i»-'jnwv to Knjilm^d— E'canora rotii es |n*i*i.« to s|uir»Mt.-- Arrives .it. ..-Iht f»^i- liiriii o»" .1a of Acn' — lJ^- -^ k'r.? *.i — Trniis ('(' tlw • ';; hor *)ul litT ( ... • ^- ^f^-k$-- ***««w» hTii in W.*;-. ^ iV i«<ut. grit'i'— Vollowfi Iut iiritw- — ,S(ima T'«»b>— EjnUtji-S -Cro.*v.^ to Ivj.'niKT.i'i. uMioory , . ._,, .„•, 5m)jn>.vriwnt9 — lUx Lrci^lt.im -IViiyi-is for Thk Tn}in-in{^c •4'' ??«? »fifiu 1a *Utium Kloarniia uf C'a»t;)» vilh jjrince Kdward. lucir «Mf Kif^fUuil, hji]'])ily t?m»mato(l h avht •wlnoli her i)r(>th« \ »»»iuc A*plio»ijK>. sunumicd ' tLo As>tr(>« liomer," %v>w MaeMwr wttk Mciiry III., ou a('t!t>imt of somr ol^solctc duiijis tin* ( H<^\\':u\ nnmnrvh laid to th»' pn'viuci' o»' ' He wu» ihc tH'k'bjui. , t jidiiUMipher v^ho invvnlotl tho A)])lK>iwijii: Uil>lc of AHUonoiay. ii-.i ca\witjh.vn i^«lk«! hhn, 11 ^alio, ur 'the Wise.' Jf*s'- , , .• 'i tily—- U»)<*.^' isl Uiirgos — p — Kctuni>r .— Arr'vt'»* '^^• ,»«. i'yf >^»/ •jTiovu shares 1, in W'.d'- Ill ut i/rii.'C .,! Wt f' UOWH < li.T 'OritM^ — .,,r'.'ii mt.uior>' '■•ri>yi'i'^ for ted H ^^'^J* tliC Abtrc)' ai of M>mf d / I.'mcin\.Hui-.r\ 'olinirii, in5l. > f i Hfyw ti ^ ' i | ffP WW W i ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 419 Gascony.' Alphonso had invaded Guienne, but, contrary to his usual fortime, Henry III. had the best of the contest, and the royal Castilian was glad to make overtiu'es for peace. Henry, who had not the least gall of bitterness in his com- position, and was always more willing to promote a festival than continue a fray, luckily recollected tliat Alphonso had a fau' young sister to dispose of, whose age would just suit his heir, prince Edward. He therefore despatched his private chaplain, the bishop of Bath, with his secretary, John Mansel, from IBourdeaux, to demand the hand of the young infanta, as a pledge of her brother's placable intentions. These ambas- sadors speedily returned with don Alphonso's consent, inscribed in a scroll sealed with gold.*^ Alphonso stipulated that the English prince should come to Burgos, to receive the hand of his bride, five weeks before Michaelmas-day, 1254 ; otherwise the contract should be null and void. The stipulation was not unreasonable, for both the mother and gi'andmother of the bride had been long engaged to English princes who had broken their troth. The king of Castile was but half-brother to the young donna Eleanora. She was the daughter of Ferdinand III. of Castile, by Joanna countess of Ponthieu, who had been many years before contracted to Henry III., king of England. Joanna inherited Ponthieu from her grandmother, — that princess Alice of France, whose betrothment with liicliard Coem' de Lion, in the preceding century, had involved Euroj)e in war. Eleanora, as the sole descendant of these princesses, was heiress-presumptive to Ponthieu and Montrieul, which provinces the royal widow of CastUe, her mother, retained in her own possession. When the preliminaries of tlic marriage were settled, the queen of England, Elejinor of Provijnce, set out for Bourdeaux with her son prince Edward ; and from thence travelled across the Pyrenees with him to Burgos, where they arrived August 5tli, 1254, within the time limited by the royal astronomer. A stately festival was held in the ' Ho pretended that Henry IL had settled this pfovinc-e on his duuglitcr Elcauora, queen of Ciwtile. ' Preserved in the Chapter-house at Westminster. i £ £ 2 420 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. capital of Castile, in honour of the nuptials of the yoang infanta with the heir of England. At a tournament given by king Alphonso, the prince received knighthood from the sword of his brother-in-law. Edward was just fifteen, and the princess some years younger,* at the time of their espousals. After the chivalric festivities at Burgos had ceased, queen Eleanor re-crossed the Pyrenees, accompanied by her son and young daughter-in-law. King Henry waited at Bourdeaux to receive his son's bride.' He had prepared so grand a festival for the reception of the young infanta, that he expended three hundred thousand marks on her marriage-feast, to the indig- nation of his EngHsh peers. When one of them reproached him for this extravagance, the king repHed, ia a dolorous tone : " Oh ! for the head of God say no more of it, lest men should stand amazed at the relation thereof!" Henry settled on the prince, his heir, all the Aquitanian domains inherited from Eleanor, his grandmother; he Uke- wise created him prince of Wales, with an exhortation to employ his youth in conquering the principality, of which he had, rather prematurely, assumed the title, together with that of Guienne. One thousand pounds per annum was the dower settled on the young Eleanora, in case the prince should die before his father. Prince Edward and his bride returned to Guienne after this renowned festival, in 1254. The young princess accompanied the royal family to Paris : she was lodged in the Temple, where Henry III. gave that celebrated banquet to St. Louis, mentioned in the pre- ceding biographies as ' the feast of kings.' Henry ordered a suite of rooms to be fitted up for his daughter-in-law in the castle of Guildford ; his directions particularly specify that her chamber is to have glazed windows, a raised hearth, a chimney, a wardrobe, and an adjoining oratory, or oriel.^ When Henry III. was preparing to invade Scotland, to avenge the aft'ronts his daughter had received from B-os and Bahol, he was apprized that the infant don Sancho, arch- * She is mentioned by all chroniclers a« a very young pirl. Piers of LangtofI:, her contenij)orary, speaks of her as a cliild. Her age seems about ten, at this perio(i. itoin'rt of Oloucesier, i'icrs, and Hatiliew Paris are tlie autiiorities for the events of this marriage. ' Matthew Paris. • Stowe's London. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 421 bishop-elect of Toledo, (half-brother to Eleanora,) with don Garcias Madinez, were on their way to England. They were lodged in the new Temple : the walls of their apartments were hung from their travelling stores by their attendants with silk and tapestry, and the floors covered with rich carpets, — the first time such luxuries were ever seen in Eng- land. The Spanish visitors were the avant-couriers of young Eleanora, who came for the first time to England the begin- ning of October. She landed at Dover, with a great retinue and a very scanty wardrobe.* She was not accompanied by her husband: her father-in-law, Henry III., sent her one hundred marks to purchase what she needed; he Ukewise sent her a handsome palfrey. He charged Reginald de Cob- ham, casteUan of Dover, to receive her, lodge her at the castle with all honour, and escort her in person to London, request- ing she would tarry at Canterbury on the road, and celebrate the feast of St. Edward. He sent her, very providently, for that purpose a silver alms-dish and two gold brooches, with several silken palls or coverlets, as ofierings at the shrine of Saint Thomas, and other shrines on her road.* Eleanora arrived in London on Sunday, October 17, 1255. The king, his nobles, the lord mayor and citizens, went out in solemn procession to meet her, and the city was hung with coloured cloth wherever she passed. When she arrived at Westminster, she found her apartments, through the care of her brother the archbishop, hung with costly tapestry, "like a church; and carpeted after the Spanish fashion."^ This was the first time tapestry had been seen in England devoted to any use but adorning a church on high festivals. Though the citizens had received the Spanish princess " with songs, music, and other joyful devices," they soon began to be oftended at such luxury; and the Spaniards in the train of the young Eleanora were viewed as invidiously as the Proven9.al atten- dants of her mother-in-law.^ They affirmed that Eleanora^s countrymen were the very refuse of mankind, hideous in their ' Liber de Antiquis Legibus, MS. Harl. 690. HT Dn— :» hot • ^^* T5 n - \uioae ivoim oi nenry lil. * Jiibcr de Antiquis Legibus, quoted by B. Botfield, esq. 422 ELEANOBA OF CASTILE. persons, and contemptible in their dress and manners;* and among their other iniquities, they kept few horses and many- mules. Thus the national prejudices on Eleanora's first arrival in England were strongly against her : not only did they revile the connexions of the young princess, but they pro- nounced the characters of her husband's household to be of the worst description, — Matthew Paris adding, "that prince Edward's train often robbed pack-horses and merchants who travelled with money ; and that the prince himself was cruel, and so rapacious as to be deemed scarcely honester than his men,'' — a character in curious coincidence with the traditions regarding his descendant Henry V., when prince of Wales. Edward came to England about a month after the arrival of his young spouse, landing jfrora Guienne November 29.' Prince Edward and his young bride passed over to Bour- deaux in 1256; and while Eleanora was completing her education, the young prince led the wandering life of a knight- errant, "haunting tournaments" wherever they were given. He was at Paris, tilting at a very grand jousting-match, in 1260, when news was brought him of the violent dissensions between the Enghsh barons and his father, which led to the fearful civil war that convidsed England for more than three years. During the whole of that disastrous era his young prLacess resided in France with the rest of the royal family, either with queen Marguerite of France, or with her own mother at Ponthieu. After the heroic eflPorts of prince Edward had freed his father and restored liim to his throne, and the country breathed in peace after the dreadful strife at Evesham, the royal ladies of England ventured to return. On the 29th of October, 1265, Eleanor of Provence, queen of England, with her daughter-in-law, Eleanora of Castile, landed at Dover," where they were received by Henry III. and prince Edward ; from thence they were escorted to Canterbury, where the royal party was magnificently entertained by the archbishop. Prince Edward had left his wife an uninformed girl ; she » M. Paris, 783= ^ Botflcld's Maimers and Household ExpenM» of England, Ixix. « Wikes. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 423 was now a lovely young woman of twenty, to whose character ' the imcertainty of fortune had assuredly given a favourable bias. The piince conveyed his restored wife to St. John's, Smithfield, after a magnificent welcome by the citizens. Eleanora afterwards removed to the Savoy-palace/ which had been originally built by count Peter of Savoy, her husband's uncle, and afterwards purchased by Eleanor of Provence, as a London inn or residence for the younger branches of her family. This was the abode of Eleanora of Castile when she attended the court at Westminster, but her favourite residences were the castle of Windsor, and her own dower-castle of Guildford. The memory of Eleanor's court at Guildford is preserved in one of the oldest of the English historical ballads, ' Adam o' Gordon,' which, if not quite as ancient as the days of Henry III., is nevertheless purely based on the narrations of the Latin contemporary chroniclers, Wikes and Hem- mingford; indeed, as to fact, it is but the history, versified with some poetical ornament, of prince Edward's encounter with the Proven9al outlaw in the woods near Guildford : his fierce combat, his generous pardon of the Gordon, were inci- dents that occurred during Eleanora's residence at Gmldford- castle ; and to his princess the heir of England brought the man he had conquered, both in mind and person. " Prince Edward hath brought him to Guildford-tower Ere that summer's day is o'er, He hath led him to the secret bower ^ Of his wile, fair Elianore. His mother, the * ladye of gay Provence,' And his sire the king were there ; Oh, scarcely the Gordon daied advance In a presence so stately and fair ! But the prince hath kneeled at his father's feet, For the Gordon's life he sues ; Tliis princess so fair halh joined in the prayer. And how can king Henry refiise ? Can he his own dear son withstand, So dutiful, brave, and true. And the loveliest lady in all the land • Kneeling before him too ? 1 rt'maft-nn - Private bouduir. fiieanora ot Castile. ^ 424 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. ' My children arise,' the old king said. And a tear wns in his eye. He Ifud his hand on the prince's head. And he blessed him fervently: ' "With a joyful heart I grant your prayer. And I bid the Gordon live ; Oh ! the happiest part of n monarch's care, Is to pity and U) forgive.' Then spake the queen ' so fair and free, • The Gordon I wiU make The steward of my royal house. For these dear children's sake.' " The eldest son of Eleanora of Castile was bom fvt "Windsor the year after her return to England; be ^^y.t. -ipr'ed John, after his great-grandfather king John, of evil memory. In the succeeding year, 1266, Eleanora •^ave biiiK at Windsor to a princess named Eleanora, and il;. year after to prince Henry. The beauty of these children, and th'^ir early promise, so much delighted their royal grandfather, that he greatly augmented the dower of the mother. Prince Edward took up the cross in 1269, and his virtuous princess resolved to share the perils of his Syrian campaign. Before she departed from England, she accompanied her mother-in-law in a gi'and progress to various shrines. During the royal progress to Northampton, the princess Eleanora made a pilgrimage to Dunstable, in company with queen Eleanor, and oflfered at the shrine of St. Peter an altar-cloth of gold brocade, as a thanksgiving for the health of her children. On her return, she assisted at a magnificent con- vocation of the barons of England in Westminster-hall, where they swore fealty and kissed the hand of her little son prince John, and recognised him as his father's successor, in case of the death of Edward in the ensuing crusade. In vain did the ladies of Eleanor ^ Tfyesent to ^ ?r the hardships and dangers ever atten'^^lv i ou - crusade, for death on the Asiatic coast threatened in many forms beside the sword. The princess rephed in words that well deserve to be remembered and noted : " Nothing," said this admirable lady, " ought to part those whom God hath joined ; and the way to heaven is > Eleanor of Provence. ELEANOBA OF CASTILE. 425 as near, if not nearer, from Syria as from England, or my native Spain/" A contemporary historian'' has left us a very graphic portrait of the husband of Eleanora at this period of his life. " He was n prince of elegant form, and majestic stature, so tail that few of his people reached his shoulder. His ample forehead and prominent chest added to the dignity of his personal appearance. His arms were most agile v the use of the sword, and his length of limb gave him a firm seat on the most spirited horses. His hair was light beioi his eastern campaigns, but became dark in middle life. His i ♦t eyebrow had a shghtly obUque fall, giving a shade oi '-esemblance to his father's face, in whose portrait this defect very strongly marked. The speech of Edward was ometi, s he itating, but when animated was passionately eloquent/' His Usposi- tion, which Eleanora of Castile had the sole merit < softening and reforming, was nat orally a fiery one, but gt ous when opposition ceased.' Much has been said regarding the conjugal fideht of prince Edward. But previously to his S^Tian campaign 1 was im- petuous and wilful in character, and far from a aultless husband. He had inspired the earl of Gloucester v ^h mad jealousy,* who not only accused him of criminal intiiL v with his countess, but declared that he, the earl of Glouces r, had been poisoned by the agency of prince Edward and the faith- less spouse. It is to be feared that this lady was a eat coquette, as she had previously been exercising her powers ' Camden's Remains. * Hemmingford. • Walsingham relates a circumstanct of prince Edward, which took place before the Syrian campaign; it is an aecdote that ca^ts some light on his character. " Hawking one day on a river he saw one of his barons not attending to a falcon that had just seized a duc> among the willows. Prince Edward upbraided him for his neglect; and the nonle tamitingly repUeu, ' It was well for him that the river parted them.* Stung 1 y the remark, the prince plunged into the stream, though ignorant of its depth j and having with difficulty reached the opposite side, pursued the noble lord with his di'awn sword, who, seeing escape hoi)eless, turned round his horse, flung off his ap, and advancing to Edward, threw himself on his mercy, and offered his neck tfr(K)m, but he was in reality his squire. Joanna w«w, in 1306, forn;iven by her father, oti lu'count of the valour her second husband hail shown in the Scottish wars. The bishop of Durham wui the ntedialor in this re<>onciiiud way of spending tho hours of mouminff, he camo softly behind his brotlisr in ihyi lieat of his (^me, and seizing his bockgammon-board, throw men, dice, and money into tho sea. The Immour with which tho lord de Jouiville (who saw the incident) relates this anocdoto is irrcaiBtiblo i 430 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. n '■ 5 i I l< a man has lost a good father, it is not in the course of nature for God to send him another/' From Sicily queen Eleanora accompanied her royal hus- band to Rome, where they were welcomed and magnificently entertained by their friend, pope Gregory X. England, happy in the permtmcnt settlement of her ancient representative government, now for the first time practically established since the reign of St. Edw-ai'd, enjoyed such profound tmnquiUity, tluit her young king and queen were able to remain more than a ye.ir in theii- continentid dominions. During this time the queen gave birth to another heir,' more beautiful and promising th.an either of his deceased bretliren. The queen named him, after her beloved brother, Alphonso, a name which sounds strangely to EngUsh ears ; but had this prince lived to wear the crown of his great father, it would, in all limbability, have become as national to England as the names of Edward or George.* At this juncture the hfe of Edward was preserved, in a manner that he considered almost mira- culous. As he was sitting with his queen on a couch, in their })alace at Bomdeaux, a flash of lightning killed two lords who were stimthng directly behind them, without injuring the roy;d pair.' Edward, with his queen, made a progress homeward through all his French provinces, tilting at toimiaments as he went. Passing through Paris, he did homage to the king of France for Aquitaine and its de])endencies, before he I'etumed to jissunie the J'^nglish crown.^ The king and queen landed at Dover, August 2, 1273. All preparations had been made for their speedy coronation, which took place on the IDth of the same month. They were received in London with the utmost exultation. The merchants, enriched by peaceful conmierce with the rich wine pi'oviuces of the South, showered gold and silver on the royal retinue as they passed under the windows of the Chei)e.* Both houses of parliament assembled to wel- ' I'miluH Kiuiliiis. He wiih Ixnn Nov. 23, 1272. ' Ali)lH>nHo is tin alibrt'viution of UtU I'oiiho, a initivo IlHTiim saint. ' Matthew I'liriK. * Wi'J.yi'.'j;!!!',!!! !!!!il V.'ik'.'s. * KiUvard bnni^lit in his tnun (luunco, a rolH'l (iawon l)Hron, whom ho had cuiuU'UiiK-il to death; but lua puniuhinent bvuius to huvu lMH.'n coiuniuted by bis boi went, i^'runce led to led at [de for l)f the ttmost Iniercc id uiul iidows wcl- lio liiid by Lin ELEANOllA OF CASTILE. 431 «J come and do honoiu* to their constitutional king and his virtuous consort. At the coronation of Edward and Eleanora, preparations were made for the exercise of the most profuse hospittdity; the whole areas of the Palace-yards, old and new, were filled with wooden buddings,' open at the top, to let out the smoke of cookuig. Here, for a whole fortnight, were prepared suc- cessions of banquets, served up for the entertainment of all comers, where the independent franklin, the stout yeoman from the country, and the rich citizen and industrious artisan from the metropohs, alike found a welcome, and were entertained gratuitously. Good order was general, and every one dehghted with this aus^xcious commencement of the new reign. Ed- ward and Eleanora were crowned by the hands of Kobert Kilwardby, archbishop of Canterbury. One of the most extraordinary features of this coronation is recorded in an old black-letter manuscript chronicle :^ " King Edward was crowned and anointed as right heir of England, with much honour and worship, with his virtuous queen ; and after mass the king went to his palace, to hold a royal feast among all the peers that had done him honour and worship. And when he was set at his meat, king Alexander of Scotland came to do him service, and to worship with a quentyse^^ and a hmi- dred knights with him, horsed and arrayed. And when they were alight off their horses, they let their horses go whither they would, and they that could catch them had them to their own behoof. And after that came sir Edmund, the king's brother, a coiuteous knight and a gentleman of renown, and the earl of Gloucester. And after them came the earl of Pembroke and the earl of WaiTcn, and each of them led a iK'ing cxlnlnt-ed, wlion the kiufj; entcroil London in Hlatc, with a rojie ahoiit his neck. Tho jjoor captive oxpoi-t^d iiotiiin^ hut deatli. He wius forgiven tlio cajjital part of his otlenco by the lu't of indcnniily ac tho coronation. He returned tlianks to Edward on his kneon. This nnwt have matle a nuwt wtrikin^r feature of that ]>art of the Ciit-eniony. (luiwco was afterwariln a loyal friend and sulijeet to Kdward, whose mercy, liowevcr, wits never oxttMided witli frankness to any hut the natives of the south of France, iw in tlie iastance of Adam de (Jordon. Kdward treated them ua comitrymen, and their laniruai^e wiim inost familiur on his tuuguo. ' Ancient clironiclc, quot^-d Ity Cart«. ' rresorvod by sir llolwrt Cjtton. * A quaint device^ or ingeoloui tnvontkm. 432 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. horse by their hand, and a hundred of their knights did the same. And when they were alight off their horses, they let them go wherever they would, and they that could take them had them stiU at their liking." The coronation of Edward and Eleanora had been graced by the presence of the king of Scotland and the duke of Bretagne, but Llewellyn, prince of Wales, absented himself; upon which the king of England sent him a sharp message, " to know wherefore he did not tender homage at the late coronation of himself and queen ?" Llewellyn refused to acknowledge that any homage was due : he was a victorious prince, for, taking advantage of the recent civil wars in Eng- land, he had reconquered all the territory which the Norman predecessors of Edward I. had wrested from the Welsh. The first mischance that befell the Welsh was the capture of the bride of Llewellyn,* coming from France ; her vessel was seized by the Bristol merchantmen, who carried her prisoner to king Edward. This prince had not yet learned to behave with cruelty to women. The young damsel, though the daughter of Simon de Montfort, his mortal foe, whom he had slain in battle, was at the same time the child of his aunt, Eleanor Plantagenet. He received her with the courtesy of a kinsman, and consigned her to the gentle keeping of his queen, with whom she resided at Windsor-castle. Nor was Eleanor de Montfort the only one of Edward the First's kins- women to whom the queen gave kindness and protection. A letter of hers has lately been found among the Tower records. It is addressed to Robert BumeU, her husband's private secre- tary : it was prompted by her friendship for Constance, the widow of the unfortunate Henry, son of Richard earl of Cornwall, Henry III.'s brother. The servants of Constance had been injured or aggrieved.' " Eleanora, by God's p-aoe queen of England, lady of Ireland, and duchess of Aquitaine, to lord Robert Bumell sends loving greeting. " We require and affectionately entreat you to give counsel and assistance in this nfliiir, that the transgression injuriously committed against the bearer of these presents, the servant of the lady Constance our cousin, (which master John * Wftlsingham, Powell's Welsh Chronicles. • Milles' Catalogue of Honour. Wikes. • Ibid. UIUI ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 433 id the ey let them jraced ike of mself J essage, le late ised to jtorious n Eng- Sforman b. The 3 of the IS seized oner to I behave lugh the he had LS a\mt, ;esy of ig of his |Nor was it's kins- •otection. records. tte secre- Lce, the earl of lonstance Ld duchess of I assistance in l?arcr of these nastcr John Olavell will show you,) may be reasonably redressed. For the confidence which we have in your benevolence is the cause why we so often direct to you our prayers on behalf of our friends. And do you, for love of us, give such (^gence in this affair, that we may henceforth be bound to you by special fevour. " Given at Guildtbrd, xiiii. day of October." The war with Wales lasted till 1278, when Llewellyn, finding it impossible to recover his bride by force of arms, submitted to the required homage, and queen Eleanora brought the lady Eleanor Montfort to Worcester, where king Edward bestowed his kinswoman upon Llewellyn, giving her away with his own royal hand ; while his amiable queen supported her at the altar of Worcester cathedral, and graced the nuptial feast of prince Llewellyn with her presence. The prince and princess of Wales afterwards accompanied the king and queen to Westminster,' with a great retinue of malcontent Snowdon barons, and their vassals. After this pacification, the death of the queen of Castile caused the provinces of Ponthieu and Montrieul to devolve on her daughter, queen Eleanora, who quitted England with king Edward, in order to take posses- sion of her inheritance, and do homage to the king of France. Edward I. received from one of the dignitaries of the Temple, in France, a chessboard and chessmen made of jasper and crystal, which present he transferred to his queen, a circumstance which leads us to the conclusion that she was skilled in the noble game. An accident that happened to the prince just before the Syrian campaign proves that he was a chess-player. One day, when he was playing at chess * The prince of Wales did homage in "Westminster Hall. According to an ancient MS,, translated by Carte in his History, the Snowdon barons who accom- panied Llewellyn to England with their serfs were quartered at Islington, where they were anything but comfortable, taking gi-eat offence at the fare provided for them. They could neither drink the wine nor the ale of London ; mead and Welsh ale could not be got for them ; the English bread they refused to eat, and all London could not aftbrd milk enough for their daily diet. Tlioy were indig- nant at the staring of tlio Londoners when they walked in the streets in their outlandish garb, and even suRj)ectcd that the English took them for savages. " No," cried they in chorus, " we will never again visit Islington, excepting as conquerors." Droll ns the association of ideas may be In-'twi-cn the Welsh bards and Islington, the name of that hiu-mloss suburb was the constant refrain of the Welsh bards till Edward silenccil them in death. As all the popular agitations were raised by the bards, wlio were jjcrfectly frantic concerning the prophecies of Merlin at this crisis, their extirpation by Edward is a very probable circumstance, ijiough contested by historians. VOL. I. F F 1:1 ih 434 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. at Windsor with a knight, the prince suddenly, from an impulse, rose from his game without any motive or decided purpose which he could define, even to himself; the next moment, the centre stone of the groined ceihng ahove him fell on the very spot where he had been sitting. From this accident he believed himself to be under the special protection of Providence, and reserved for some great purpose ; he attri- buted his preservation to Our Lady of Walsingham. Eleanora of Castile was a patroness of literature.* In the curious library of St. Genevieve, in Paris, there is a treatise of rehgion called " Hierarchy," translated from Latin into French by John de Pentham, at her request and under her patronage.^ Eleanora likewise paid forty shillings to Richard du Marche, for illuminating a psalter and two tablets with miniature pictures.^ The return of the royal pair was hastened by another Welsh war ; for the fair bride of Llewellyn died, after bring- ing him a hving daughter,'' and the prince, urged by the songs of the bards, and the indignation of his subjects regard- ing his homage, suddenly invaded England. The ambiguous words of a prophecy of Merlin, asserting that a prince born in Wales should be the acknowledged king of the whole British island, was the stimulus that led to a war, terminating in the death of the brave Llewellyn. The gold coronet of the unfortunate prince, taken from his head by lord Mortimer after the fatal skirmish at Builth, was oflPered by prince Alphonso at the slirine of Edward the Confessor. The unsettled state of Wales needed the constant presence ^ Bottielil, quoted in his Cotnpotus of Eleanora of Castile. ' Warton is the iiutliority for this fact, which, from my own inspection of the litei-ary curiosities in that extraordinary librai-y, is doubtless true ; but Warton gives the name of the work barbarously, calling it ' Jerarchie.' The volume belonged to tlie Friars Minora of Houthanipton, and doubtless was carried to France at the dissolution of the monasteries. '^ B. Botfield. * Tills child, whose name was Guendolen, was brought to Edward a captive in lier cradle : she was reared, and professed a nun in the convent of Senipringham with her cousin Gladis, the only daughter of prince David, brother to Llewellyn, which prince was executed by Edwai'd. Thus endwl the line of Roderick the Great. — Piers Langtoit. Hers mentions his personal acqiuuutance with these royal votai-ies. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 435 m an ecided J next e him m this tection } attri- In the atise of French onage.^ larche, mature another • bring- by the regard- biguoua ce bom B whole ainating 'onet of ortimer prince iresence tion of the \t Warton lie volume ciirried to captive in lipringhom I Llewellyn, icrick the Nvith these of king Edward, to keep down the spirit of the people ; and queen Eleanora, who had followed him in all his Welsh cam- paigns, kept her court p^ ^huddlan-castle in the summer of 1283. Here her sixth . slighter, the princess Isabella, was bom a native of Wales.^ Early in spring, 1284, Edward carried his queen to his newly-built castle of Caernarvon, a stronghold he had just finished to awe the insurgents of the principality. This truly royal fortress, according to the anti- quary Pennant, appears at present, in its external state, pre- cisely as when queen Eleanora first entered the stupendous gateway so many centuries ago. The walls are studded by defensive round towers; they have two principal gates, the east facing the Snowdon moimtains, the west commanding the Menai. The entrance to the castle is very stately, beneath a noble tower, on the front of which appears the statue of the great Edward,^ finely carved from the life, draw- ing a dagger with a stem air, as if menacing his unwilling subjects. This entrance had four portculhsses, and every requisite of strength. To this mighty castle Edward brought Eleanora, at a time when her situation promised an increase to the royal family. The Eagle tower, through whose gate the affectionate Elea- nora entered, is at a prodigious height from the ground at the farthest end, and could only be approached by a drawbridge, supported on masses of opposing rock. Every one who beholds it is struck with its grand position : it is stUl, by the tradition of the district, called ' queen Eleanor's gate •/ nor was the Eagle tower an eyrie by any means too lofty for the security of the royal Eleanora and her expected infant, since most of the Snowdon barons still held out, and the rest of the principality was fiercely chafing at the English curb. This consideration justifies the tradition which, passing by the suite of apartments shown as the queen's, points out a little dark den, built in the thickness of the walls, as the chamber where the faithful queen gave birth to her son Edward. The chamber is twelve feet in length and eight in breadth, and is * Stowe. ' His noble poftfttir, engraved by Vcrtue in Carte, is taken from this statue. F r2 k 436 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. without a fire-place.* Its discomforts were somewhat modi- fied by hangings of tapestry, of which some marks of tenters still appear in the walls.'^ Queen Eleanora was the first person who used tapestry as garniture for waUs in England, and she never needed it more than in her dreary Ijring-in chamber at Caernarvon.' The prince was bom April 25th, when fires were not indispensable in a small, close chamber. As a soldier's wife, used to attend her lord in aU campaigns, from Syria to Scotland, the queen had, in all probabihty, met with far worse accommodations, than in the forlorn chamber in the Eagle tower.* The queen certainly provided a Welsh * Pennant and Boswell. 3 It was the primitive office of the grooms of the chamber to hang up the tapestry, which was always carried in progress with the royal baggage, and sent forwards with the purveyor and grooms of the chamberj so that the queen found the stone walls of her sleeping chamber in oomlbrtable order for her reception. ^ Among the memorials of qaoen Eleanora's sojourn at Caernarvon-castle, the cradle of her iitfant son is still shown. It is hung by rings and staples to two upright pieoes of wood, like a oot ; it is of rude workmanship, yet with much pretence to ornament, having many mouldings, though the nails are left rough. It is made of oak, and is in length three feet two inches, its width one foot eight inches at the head, and one foot £ve at the feet ; it has rockers, and is crowned by two birds, — whether doves or eagles antiquaries have not yet decided. — Boswell's Antiquities. ■• A descripti u of those apartments, by Mr. P. Williams, seems taken from the spot. " After ajucnding a flight of stairs (in the Eagle tower), the visitor gains admission to a circuloi- chamber, an ant«-room, through which he passes to another of larger dimensions : this is ' the queen's dmmber,' and it has a fire-place, a rather capacious one, apparently coeval with the building. Beyond the queen's chamber is a room uniform in size with the other, and beyond this two smaller cham- bers ; the most remote, steps descend to a passage leading to * the king's tower,* while the ante-room leading to the queen's chamber forms a convenient entrance to her state apartment* in the Eagle tower." This is a valuable picture of Eleanora's suite of rooms in Caernarvon-castle, as she afterwards enjoyed them, and it well agrees with the arranger lents of all private apartments of royalty constructed in tlie middle ages. IJevertheless, it is necessary to consider the state of Caeniarvon-icastle, — not commenced before the death of Llewellyn in 1282, and yet inhabited as a fortress early in the year 1284, far surpassing in celerity of erection Richard Coeur de Lion's castle of Galliai'd, built in one twelvemonth. But Richard's " saucy castle," as he called it, was built in the land of castle-building, with stores of Caen stone close at hand ; neither did he need it as a lady's bower, to shelter a queen and infant son. The interior accommodations of Caemarvou-castle could scarcely liave been finished for Eleanora's accommodation at her accouchement, a few months after this fortress wag commerced, and this is why we cleave to the Welsh tradition, faithMly given by the Welsh antiquarian Pcimant, who points out a small strong room as Eleanora'8 lying-in chamber. fc modi- tenters b person and she mber at en fires As a as, from aet with mber in t Welsh ang up the ggage, and b the queen ier for her i-castle, the pies to two with much left rough, e foot dght . is crowned decided. — in from the isitor gains ; to another ice, a rather I's chamber aller cham- ig's tower,' at entrance picture of eyed them, of royalty onsider the lewellyn in rpassing in uilt in one milt in the ther did he he Interior nished for his fortress faithfully ng room as ELBA NORA 01 JASTILE. 4i« nurse for her infant :' »he thus proved > woal ngii ■ense, by complying with the prejudices of tht >, utry . Edward I. was at Rhuddlan-castle, 'gotiatia*; with the despairing magnates of Wales, when news was Luought him by Griffith Lloyd, a Welsh gentleman, that the queen had made him father of a Hving son of surpassing beauty. The king was transported with joy ; he knighted the Welshman on the spot, and made him a magnificent donation of lands.' The king hastened directly to Caernarvon, to see his Elea- nora and her boy ; and three days after, the castle was the rendezvous of aU the chiefs of North Wales, who met to tender their final submission to Edward I., and to implore him, as their lord-paramount, to appoint them a prince who was a native of their own country, and whose native tongue was neither French nor Saxon, which they assured him they could not understand.^ Edward told them he would imme- diately appoint them a prince, who could speak neither English nor French. The Welsh magnates, expecting he was a kinsman of their own royal line, declared they would instantly accept him as their prince, if his character was void of reproach ; whereupon the king ordered his infant son to be brought in and presented to them, assuring the assembly that " he was just bom a native of their country; that his character was unimpeached ; that he could not speak a word of EngUsh or French; and that, if they pleased, the first words he uttered should be Welsh." The fierce mountaineers httle expected such a ruler : they had, however, no alternative but submission, and, with as good a grace as they might, kissed the tiny hand which was to sway their sceptre, and vowed fealty to the babe of the faithful Eleanora.* The queen soon changed her residence to her magnificent palace of Conway-castle, where all the elegancec of an age further advanced in luxury than is generally supposed, were * There is an entry in the household-book of Edward II, of twenty shillings, which the king presented to Mary of Caernarvon, his nurse, for coming all the way from Wales to see him. ' Pennant's Wales. • Speed. * Stowe minutely details this incident, the authenticity of which is not only supported by the local traditions of North Wales, but by the giant authority of Selden. 438 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 'i i li I i f assembled round her. Many traces of her abode at Conway exist : among others, her state bed-chamber retains some richness of ornament; it opens on a terrace commanding a beautiful view. Leading from the chamber is an arched recess, called by tradition 'queen Eleanora's oriel;* it is raised by steps from the floor, and beautifully adorned with painted glass windows. Here the queen of England, dming her levee, or rising, sat to receive the ladies quahfied to be presented to her, while her tirewoman combed and braided those long tresses^ which are the glory of a Spanish donna, and which her statues show Eleanora of Castile to have pos- sessed. A poem, contemporary with this queen, minutely describes these state-toilet places :^ — " In her oriel there she was. Closed well with royal glaas ; I Filled it was with imagery, ^ Every window hy and by." ' The August following the birth of prince Edward saw the death of prince Alphonso, the heir of England, — an event which deeply afflicted his mother. The same year brought calamity to her brother, king Alphonso X. of Castile,' who was the most extraordiuary person of his time ; but wrapping himself up in his mathematical studies in the latter part of his reign, his son, Sancho the Brave, deposed liim. This event was a source of great grief to Eleanora, for her royal brother was tenderly beloved by her ; she had named her favourite child after him, and now, in his reverse of fortune, she urged her royal lord to interfere with her nephew Sancho'' for the * This custom, derived from the middle ages, was continued in Prance till the Bevolution. The word 'levee,' still used at our court, is derived from it. * Pennant. • This king, sumamed II Sahio, employed the most learned men, not only Europeans, but Arabs and Jews, to assist him in constructing the celebrated Alphonsine tables, so long the standard of astronomical calculations, showing, withal, some glimpses of the light afterwards cast on science by Galileo and sir Isaac Newton. Alphonso paid his learned assistants forty thousand crowns for their services, a benefaction infinitely I'esented by his combative subjects, who took their monarch and his astronomers for conjurors, and were infuriated that a king should bestow treasure on any peaceful profession.-See Atlas Geogi-aphique. Alphonso pursued his studies in quiet when imprisoned, consoling himself by con- siderinor that his snbiw+ji wt ■ e fools, o ' " «i ■* Many papers on this subject appear in the Foedera. ELEANORA OE CASTILE. 439 Conway IS some mding a L arched ;' it is led with , diiring d to be braided L donna, ave pos- ninutely saw the m event brought lie,' who trapping LTt of his is event brother avoiuite le urged for the ce till the it. , not only celebrated , showing, eo and sir crowns for ejects, who ted that a gi'aphique. If by con- restoration of her brother. The interposition was in vain, for the learned Alphonso died in confinement. The death of king Alexander of Scotland, in 1285, opened a new prospect for still further aggrandizing the progeny of queen Eleanora. The heiress of Scotland, the princess Mar- garet of Norway, great niece to Edward I., was, by the con- sent of the nobles of Scotland, solemnly betrothed to Edward of Caernarvon, prince of Wales, and every prospect appeared that the island crowns would be happUy imited in the persons of the infant son of Eleanora and the little queen of Scotland. After this pacification of the whole island, the king and queen resided three years in Aquitaine. Eleanora then gave birth to her seventh and eighth daughters, the princesses Beatrice and Berengaria. When the queen returned to England, she was urged to devote her fourth daughter, the princess Mary, to the cloister. Her reluctance to relinquish this child is noted by most chro- niclers, and produced more than one pathetic epistle jfrom dignitaries of the church on the impropriety of " withholding from heaven a chosen lamb from her numerous flock."* Among the other admirable quahties of Eleanora, we find freedom from the prejudices of her era. She kept a happy medium between the bold infidelity of her philosophic brother, Alphonso the mathematician,*^ and the superfluous devotion of the middle ages. The princess Mary was, however, veiled at the age of ten years, at Ambresbury, 1289. The year after her profession the queen added a ninth daughter, the princess Blanche, to her family. Eleanora reared and educated her numerous train of beautiful princesses in a retired angle of Westminster-palace, to which was given, on account r f their residence there, the appellation of * the Maiden-hall." * There are innumerable grants recorded in <'he Fcedera to the nun-princess. Her father grants the forest of Savernake, and other woodlands, for fire for her chamber; the port of Southampton is taxed for oil for her lamp, and for wine for her table. ^ Alphonso is said to have declared, "^that he could have devised a better way of ordering the movements of the celestial bodies :" this speech led to his deposi- tion. The fact is, he was not satisfied with his own astronomical tables, and foresaw subsequent improvements. ' Erayley and lirittDii's Palace of Westminstei', 114. This portion of the old palace was destroyed by fire, a little time after the queen's death. ( ( 440 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. i I Three of the queen's elder daughters were married, or betrothed, in 1290. The princess-royal, Eleanora, was affianced to Alphonso prince of Arragon : this prince died soon after, when she married the duke of Ban*. The next sister, Joanna of Acre, in her eighteenth year, renowned for her beauty and high spirit, was married with great pomp at the monastery of the knights of St. John, Clerkenwell, to the premier peer of England, Gilbert the Red, earl of Gloucester. A few weeks later, queen Eleanora assisted at a still stateher ceremony, when her third daughter, Margaret, then fifteen, wedded at Westminster-abbey John, the second duke of Brabant.' The king, it has been obsei'ved, was subject to violent fits of rage in the earUer periods of his life. At the wedlock of his daughter Margaret, he gave one of his esquires a rap with his wand without just cause -^ he paid him 13/. C«. 8c?. as compensation, whether for the indignity or the injury is not noted. Our historians dwell much on the magnificence displayed at the nuptials of these princesses. A list of the plate used in the queen's household wiU prove that the court of Eleanora had attained a considerable degree of luxury. The plate was the work of Ade, the king's goldsmith, and the description of the rich vessels furnished by this member of the goldsmiths' company has been brought to light by modem reseju'ch.' Thirty-four pitchers of gold and silver, calculated to hold water or wine; ten gold chalices, of the value of 110/. to 292/. each ; ten cups of silver gilt, or silver white, some with stands of the same, or enamelled; more than one hundred smaller silver cups, value from 4/. to 1 1 8/. each ; also cups of jasper, plates and dishes of silver, gold salts, alms-bowls, silver hanapers or baskets; cups of benison, with holy sentences wrought thereon ; enamelled silver jugs, adorned with effigies of ihe king in a surcoat and hood, and witli two efiigies of ' The younj? dudiowi did not JTiinuKliatoly I'lit. E'ljjliitid, Init IiimI n wpamtt! ePtabliHlimciit, iw upjM'urH by the fiillDwinjf entry in Kdwnrd II.'b hoiiwIiold-lKjokH: " l'»id llolHTt de Ludhmn Ihirlinn «hillin>fs and sixjHMUH', who was jiort^T to the kinif'n dnn^liter, tho htdy Mar^iiri-t, (hu-hoHH of Hralmnt, wlicn h)i<< iiiaintained % hoiueiioid ditU'rent fhnn the kln^'H Hon." ' Hottlold. ' Uy Mr. Hcrlwrt, City librariiin, in hie History of City CouijMtuimi. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 441 queen Eleanora. It is generally supposed that Tom Coryate, of queer memory, introduced the use of forks from Italy, so lately as the time of James I. But our Proven9al Plan- tagenet queens did not feed with their fingers, whatever their English subjects might do, since in the list of Eleanora's plate occurs a pair of knives with silver sheaths, enamelled, with a fork of crystal, and a silver fork' handled with ebony and ivory. In the hst of royal valuables were hkewise combs and looking- glasses of silver-gilt, and a bodkin of silver in a leather case ; five sei'pents* tongues, set in a standard of silver; a royal crown set with rubies, emeralds, and great pearls ; another with Indian pearls ; and one great crown of gold, ornamented with emeralds, sapphires of the East, rubies, and large oriental pearls. This seems to have been Eleanora's state crown, used at the coronation feast. Above all, there is a gold ring with a great sapphire, wrought and set by no other hand but that of St. Dunstan. Eleanora's royal lord was not always cross and savage at festivities, given to rap heads with his wand,^ or throw coronets behind the fire, a freak in which he afterwards indulged. The chronicles of 1290 record more than one merry scene which took place with the king and the queen's ladies. There is an old custom, still remembered in Warwicksliire, called ' heav- ing.' On Easter-Monday, the women servants of every household clamorously enter the chamber or sitting-room of the master of the family, or any " stranger beneath his roof," and, seating him in a chair, lift liim tlierein from tho ground, and refuse to set him down till he compounds for his liberty by a gratuity. Seven of queen Eleanora's ladies, on the Easter-]\Ionday of 121)0, imccremoniously invaded the chamber of king Edward, and seizing their majestic master, proceeded to ' heave him ' in his chair, till he was glad to pay a fine of fourteen pounds to enjoy " his ovm. j)eace," and be set at liberty.' One day of the Easter holidays, the queen being then at her Waltluun -palace, the king spied her lami- ' Sofl likcwiHo lUxx)rtl Conunimion, p. 78. whom fork* are etiuiaeratcd ar.ionj too iteinM of Kdwurtl tho Firxt'H doiiH'Mtic utviisils. " VViM^-ulHi-lKHjk of Edward I., fol. 150. • Ibid. 443 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 1 I I dress, Matilda of Waltham, among the lookers-on in the court- yard while the hounds were couphng and the gallant hunters mounting, most hkely for the Londoners' Easter-hunt. Being in a merry mood, king Edward wagered a fleet hunter that Matilda could not ride hunting with them, and be in at the death of the stag. She accepted the bet, moimted the horse, and rode with such success, that Edward was fain to redeem his good steed for forty shilHngs.^ A large Spanish ship came that summer to Portsmouth, from which the queen was sup- plied with some of her native fruits. She bought one frail of Seville figs, one of raisins, a bale of dates, two hundred and thirty pomegranates, fifteen citrons, and seven oranges.'* The autumn of the year 1290 brought threatening clouds to the prosperity of the island kingdoms, and to the royal family of queen Eleanora. The little queen, Margaret of Scotland, was to be sent this year from Norway to Scotland, and thence, by agreement, to the court of England, that she might be educated under the care of the admirable queen of Edward I. The bishop of St. Andrew's wrote to king Ed- ward, that a report was spread of the young queen's death^ on her homeward voyage. Edward, who had already sent the bishop of Dm'ham'' and six regents to take possession of Scot- land, in the names of Edward of Caernarvon and Margaret of Norway,* was startled into prompt action at these alanning tidings. He took a hasty farewell of his beloved queen, and charged her to follow liim with all convenient speed. Edward had not entered Scotland when the fatal news reached him that Eleanora, the faithful companion of his life, in travelling through Lincolnshire to join him pre\iously to liis entering Scotland, had been seized with an autumnal * MS. in the Tower, quotwl hy U. Bottk'ld, esq., in his learned work, Miuiners and Household Exix'Hjhhi of England, xlviii. » Ibid. * She died at the Orkiioyf, it is su])]K>8ed of the fati^fue of ii very stomiy voynpe, Ix'iiijj driven to those i-liiiuls })y vioUiit weutlier, ()etol)or 12JK>.-StH' Wiilsinjflmiii. Her (U'ftth wns tho ^reat^'st national <'Hla»uty that over befell Beotliuid. An tlegant li-nialo p-lHK)k of Kdwanl I., fol. 18, b. 47. ' Dav.pliters of sir lioin-rt do Cwnviiio. Miiiiiu'rH iind Uiniwliold Exjktisos of England, l)y U. Hottiold, escj. j KxwutoreB Doinintn Aliiinore, Consortin Edwartli IVuuL » Ibid. 103. AAA ELEANORA. OF CASTILE. by the acute sorrow he suffered for the death of Eleanora ;* nor, till he had paid the duties he considered due to her breathless clay, would he attend to the slightest temporal business. In the bitterest grief he followed her corpse in person, during thirteen days, in the progress of the royal funeral from Grant- ham to Westminster. At the end of every stage the royal bier rested, surrounded by its attendants, in some central part of a great town, till the neighbouring ecclesiastics came to meet it in solemn procession, and to place it before the high altar of the principal church. At every one of these resting- places the royal mourner vowed to erect a cross in memory of the chere reine, as he passionately called his lost Eleanora. Thirteen of these splendid monuments of his affection once existed : those of Northampton and Waltham' still remain, models of architectural beauty. The ceremony of making the sites for these crosses is thus described by the chronicler of Dunstable : " Her body passed through Dunstable and rested one night, and two precious cloths were given us, and eighty pounds of wax. And when the body of the queen was de- parting from Dunstable, her bier rested in the centre of the market-place, till the king's chancellor and the great men then and there present had marked a fitting place where they might afterwards erect, at the royal expense, a cross of wonderful size, — our prior being there present, and sprinkling holy water." The principal citizens of London, with their magistrates, came several miles on the north road, clad in black hoods and mourning cloaks, to meet the royal corpse and join the solemn procession. The hearse rested, previously to its admission into Westminster-abbey, at the spot now occupied by the statue of Charles I., which commanded a grand view of the abbey, the hall, and palace of Westminster. The king, in his letter to the abbot of Cluny, desires prayers for the soul of her " whom living he loved, and whom dead he shall never cease to love." Yet, as the great expenses of crosses erected, her funeral," and her beautiful tomb and statue, were paid by * Wakin^fliiim and Speed. • WBltham-crofw was built whem KWnora's «)'..« tarncjl frcvn trs^ lilgli north road, to rext for tlw night at Waltham-Hhh<>y> wliich is Ritiiat4)d about ^ mile fh)m tho ipot. • Fajdi-ra, vol. i. p. 743. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 445 a;' nor, •eathless !ss. In during I Grant- lie royal tral part came to the high resting- 3mory of Jleanora. ion once remain, king the aicler of id rested d eighty- was de- e of the aen then y might onderfiil ■ water." ^strates, )ods and ) solemn Imiasion by the of the [ing, in jhe soul 111 never lerected, Ipaid by about ft her executors, there is some reason to suppose her own funds discharged the costs. It is needful to explain the use of these crosses: they were places of the field or out-door preaching of the ancient church ; hkewise, sustenance for the poor was distributed from them, according to the means of their several endowments. They buried queen Eleanora at the feet of her father-in- law, December 10, 1290. Her heart was enclosed in an urn, and deposited in the church of the Black Friars, London: round it a rich picture was painted or enamelled. Her elegant statue, reclining on an altar-shaped tomb, was cast in bronze by an artist patronised by Henry III. and Edward I. He was supposed to be the celebrated Pietro Cavallini, but his name is now certified^ as master WilUam Torell, a native statuary. He built his furnace to cast the queen's statue in St. Margaret's churchyard. The nine beautiful crosses were erected by artists who were of English descent." As to Torell, he certainly produced a work of which any modem artist miglit be justly proud. We feel, while gazing upon it, that it possesses all the reality of individual resemblance. The countenance of Eleanora is serenely smiling ; the delicate fea- tures are perfect, both in form and expression. The right band held a sceptre, now broken away ; the left is closed over something pendent from the neck by a string, supposed to be a crucifix, hkewise destroyed. Her head is crowned with a magnificent circlet, from which her hair falls in elegant waves on her shoulders. The queen of Edward I. must have been a model of feminine beauty. No wonder that the united influence of loveliness, virtue, and Rweet temper shoidd have inspired in the heart of her renowned lord an attachment so deep and true. ' Sco tlio accounts of queen Elcanora's executors, edited by B. Botfield, esq., from which the author is glad to correct the eiTor into which Walpole had led lier. Mr. Hotfleld hiw gathered, that the munificent Edward paid his ortitit fop this statue, and that of his father Henry III., more than 1700/. ot' our money: likewise for a rii-h cover to enclose his queen's statue, which was riclily gilt j go' ' florins were purchased for the gilding, and it was oidy exhibited on solemn days. • See payments to Alexander, the desi^nier.-Hotfield's Executors' Accounts of the QueenV Kx{)ense8, Ixxxiv. \>'illinm of Sufl'olk cast the smaller imssges at I»lac=kfriafB ; llicharti of SU)we built Lincoln-cross ; John of Battle, Northampton, Htratfonl, Dunstable, and St. Alban's ; Walthani, Roger de Crundell , Chari"g, Richard de Crundell j Chea^idv, Micluwl of Canterbury. *1k n 446 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. ( The king endowed the abbey of Westminster with many rich gifts, for dirges and masses to commemorate his beloved queen. Wax-lights perpetually burnt around her tomb, till the Reformation extinguished them tliree hundred years after- wards, and took away the funds that kept them ahght. " She hath," says Fabyan, " two wax tapers burning upon her tomb both day and night, which hath so continued syn the day of her burjong to this present."' The tomb itself is of grey Petworth m-irble, and is designed in a style corresponding with the rich memorial-cross of Waltham, especially the lower range of shields, on which are seen embossed the towers of Castile and the purple lions of Leon, with the bendlets of Ponthieu. Vaiious paintings by Walter de Durham once adorned the canopy and the base, of which some faint traces alone remain. Round the metal table on which the statue reposes is a verge, embossed with Saxon characters, to this effect : — " Here lies Ahanor, wife to king Edward, formerly queen of England, on whose soul God for pity have grace ! Amen." This is at present the sole epitaph of Eleanora of Castile; but before the Reformation the hearse-tablet hung near the tomb, on which were some funeral verses in Latin, with an English translation by some ancient rhymester,^ transcribed here, not for their beauty, but their historical character : — " Queen Eleanora is here interred, a royal virtuous dame. Sister unto the Spanish king, of ancient blood and fame ; King Edward's wife, first of that name, and prince of Wales by right. Whose father Henry, just the third, was sure an English wight. He craved her wife unto his son j the prmce himself did goe On that embiissnge luckily, himself with many moe. * The tomb of Henry III. is richly hilaid with curious and precious stones, which his son Edward I. brought with him from Syria for that purpose. Its splendour may be noticed by those who walk in the abbey beneath St. Edward's chapel. Fortunately most of this beautiful mosaic of curious stor js is perfect on the outside of the chapel, which is placed at an inconvenient height for the operations of the pickery and stealers who daily visit that stately fane ; therefore tliis memento of our great king's filial piety still remains in a tolerable state of prcsci'vation. " Edward I. reservetl some of liis precious store to adorn the statue ot his l)eloved wife, for round the neck are cu8[w, where a carcanet has been fixed, but it has \k\-u wrenched oft' and stolen." — Pennant. ^ A tradition is extant, that Skelton (poet-lam-eate to Henry VIIT.) tnnislated tection of abbot Isli]i, who had the translations hung ou tableto near the tombs. — 13rayley'8 Historical Perambulator. ELEANOllA OF CASTILE. 447 1th many i beloved omb, till ars after- it. "She her tomb le day of \ of grey isponding the lower toners of :ndlets of lani once int traces he statue 8^ to this formerly ve grace ! eanora of blet hmig in Latin, ijinester,^ historical by right, :ht. (CiouB stones, lurposo. It« St. Edward's 18 perfect on i^lit for the le; therefore 'able state of X) udorn the carcoiiet has .) translated w>,.. kr V ■ VSSV |»* *^~ the tomba. This knot of Ihiked marriage the king Alphonso liked, And with his sister and this prince the marriage up was striked. The dowry rich and royal was, for such a prince most meet. For I'onthieu was the marriage gift, a dowry rich and great ; A woman both in counsel wise, religious; fruitful, meek. Who did increase her husband's friends, and 'larged his honour eko. LEABN TO die!" Of all the crosses raised to the memory of Eleanora of Castile by her sorrowing widower, that of Charing is the most frequently named by the inhabitants of the metropolis, although the structure itself has vanished from the face of the earth. Yet every time Charing-cross is mentioned, a tribute is paid unconsciously to the viiiues of Edward the First's beloved queen, for the appellation is derived from the king's own lips, who always spoke of her, in his French dialect, as the chere reine. Thus the words * Charing-cross ' signify the ' dear queen's cross,' ^ an object that was always seen by the royal widower in his egress and regress from his palace of West- minster. This anecdote is corroborated by Edward's personal habits, who certainly, hke his ancestors, spoke French in his famihar intercourse.^ Our sovereigns had not yet adopted English as their mother-tongue. Although Edward and his father spoke Enghsh readily, yet their conversation in domestic life was chiefly carried on in French. Foreigner as she was, Eleanora of Castile entirely won the love and good- will of her subjects. Walsingham thus sums up her character: " To our nation she was a loving mother, the column and pillar of the whole realm ; therefore, to her glory, the king her hus- band caused all those famous trophies to be erected, wherever her noble corse did rest ; for he loved her above all earthly creatures. She was a godly, modest, and merciful princess : the English nation in her time was not harassed by foreigners, nor the country people by the purveyors of the crown. The * Malcolm's London. Wilkinson's Londinium Rediviva. In the accounts pub- lished by Botfield of Eleanora's executors, pp. 118, 123, Charing-cross is frequently mentioned, and its progress minutely traced: it is sjwlt variously, but at last ■ettlod aa Crucem de la Char-ryvge. Malcolm was a practical matter-of-fact antiquarian, not likely to give a romantic derivation; yet we own that the expression la Char-mjnge, in the mixed language of the executors' Compotus, raises a supposition that the word ' Charing ' simply meant to express the ring or carriage-diive whoro the cars went round, wiiiie their masters wi"'e attending the royal levees at Webtminster-palace. * Holinshed. ■(5"-.- 448 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 11 I; sorrow-stricken she consoled as became her dignity, and she made them friends that were at discord/^' Civihzation made rapid advances under the auspices of a court, so well regulated as that of Eleanora of Castile. Wales, in particular, emerged from its state of barbarism in some degree. The manners of the Welsh were so savage at the time when Eleanora kept her court in North Wales, that her royal lord was forced to re\ive an ancient Welsh law, threatening severe punishments on any one " who should strike the queen, or snatch any tiling out of her hand." The English had Httle reason to pride themselves on their supe- riority. Although there was no danger of their beating the queen in her hall of state, they had pelted her predecessor from London-bridge. Moreover, in the commencement of the reign of Edward I., London was so ill governed, that mur- ders were committed in the street at noon-day.^ Sculpture, architecture, and casting in brass and bronze, were not only encouraged by king Edward and his queen, but brought to great perfection by the Enghsh artists whom they patriotically employed. Carving in wood, an art purely English, now richly decorated both ecclesiastical and domestic struc- tures. Eleanora of CastUe first introduced the use of tapestry as hangings for walls : it was a fasliion appertaining to Moorish luxury, and adopted by the Spaniards. The coldness of our climate must have made it indispensable to the fair daughter ' Tlie common people have not dealt so justly by her ; the name of this virtuous woman and excellent queen is only knov;n by them to be slandered by means of a popular ballad, called " A Warning against Pride ; being the Fall of Quoen P^leanora, wife to Edward I. of England, who for her pride sank into the earth at Queenhithe, and rose again at Churing-cross, after killing the Lady Mayoress." Some faint traces of the quan-els Ixjiweeu the city of London and Eleanor of Provence regarding Queenhithe had been heard by the writer of this ballad, who confounded her with her daughter-in-law, whose name was connected with Charing-cross. " The vigorous government of Edward soon crushed these evils. He made it penal by proclamation for any person but the great lords to be seen hi London Btreets with either spear or buckler, after the parson of St. Martin's-le-Grand had rung out his curfew-bell, — a pro«)l that the curfew was rung as late as the time of Edward I. It had become an instrument of civil police, rather than military dcHpotism. The highways, on which we have seen Henry III. and his queen roblied in open day, were now cleared of all wood, excepting high trees, for forty opposite to Wostminsttir-palaco. — Stowe. ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 449 and she ces of a Wales, in some e at the les, that elsh law,, should l.» The eir supe- iting the edecessor ement of ;hat mur- i bronze, aeen, but horn they J English, tic struc- tapestry Moorish ss of our daughter this virtuous by means of of Quoen to the earth ^ Mayoress." rt Eleanor of >)allnd, who nected with He made it 1 fn London B-Grand had f as the time ^lan military |d his queon C8, for forty I clock-tower, of the South, chilled with the damp stone-walls of Enghsh gothic haUs and chambers. In the preceding centuries, tapestry was solely worked to decorate altars, or to be dis- played as pictorial exhibitions, in solemn commemoration of gi'eat events, hke the Bayeux tapestry of Matilda of Flanders. The robes worn by the court of Eleanora of Castile were graceful ; the close under-gown, or kirtle, was made high in the neck, with tight sleeves and a train, over which an elegant robe with full fur sleeves was worn. The ugly gorget, an imitation of the helmets of the knights, executed in white cambric or lawn, out of which was cut a visor for the face to peep through, deformed the head-tire of some of the ladies of her court, and is to be seen on the effigy (otherwise most elegant) of Aveline countess of Lancaster, her sister-in-law. But Eleanora had a better taste in dress; no gorget hides her beautiful throat and fine shoulders, but her ringlets flow on each side of her face, and fall on her neck from under the regal diadem. The ladies of Spain are celebrated for the beauty of their hair, and we see by her statues that Eleanora did not conceal her tresses. The elegance and simphcity of the dress adopted by this lovely queen, might form a model for female costume in any era.' There is Uttle more than tradition to support the assertion, that to Eleanora of Castile England owes the introduction of the famous breed of sheep for which Cotswold has been so famous. A few of these animals were introduced, by the care of the patriotic queen, froLi her native Spain ; and they had increased to that degree in about half a century, that their wool became the staple riches of England. It is said' (authority wanting) that Anthony Bee, bishop of Durham, having obtained possession of Eltham-palace, originally a royal demesne, after buildir j superbly there, bequeathed it with its improvements to queen Eleanora. The last time the name of Eleanora of Castile appears in our national records is in the parliamentary roUs, and from Norman French we translate the following supplication : — " The executors of Oliver de Ingram pray to recover before > Pennant. 3 uiat. of Eltham Palace. VOL. :. I 450 ELEANORA OF CASTILE. I I the king's auditors three hundred and fifty marks, owed by dame Alianore, late queen and companion to our lord king Edward I., and the said executors show, that though our lord the king had given command to have it paid, it is not yet done ; therefore they humbly crave that he will be pleased to give a new order for that same, on account of the health of the soul of the said queen Ahanore, his companion/' By this document we learn, from the best authority, that creditors, in the times when Cathohcism was predominant, considered they kept a detaining hold on the souls even of royal debtors. Moreover, in the same parhament the poor prioress and her nuns of St. Helen present a pathetic petition to the king, representing " how earnestly they have prayed for the soul of madame the queen, late companion to king Edward; and they hope for perpetual alms for the sustenance of their poor convent in London, in consideration of the pains they have taken.'" Eleanora of Castile left seven Uving daughters and one son. Only four of her daughters were bestowed in mainage. The princess-royal was united, in 1292, to the duke of Barr : the nuptial festivities were royaUy celebrated at Bristol.^ The king paid Husso de Thomville, valet of the count of Barr, for bring- ing him news of the birth of her eldest son, the enormous sum of fifty pounds ! But this boy was the next heir to England after Edward of Caernarvon, as Edward I. settJed the suc- cession on the daughters of Eleanora of Castile ; first on the countess of Barr and her progeny, then on Joanna of Acre, and all the seven princesses then alive, in succession. Isabella,' the sixth daughter of king Edward and Eleanora » FoUo 1, Par. RoUs, 475. ^ The summons for the knights of the adjacent counties to attend at Bristol the marriage-fea£t of this princess is extant in the records of Bristol, kindly com* wunicated by T. Garrard, esq. ^ The entries in the household-book of Edward I., 1298, preserve some of the pai*ticular8 of this marriage : " To Maud Makejoy, for dancing before Edward prince of Wales in the king's hall at Ipswich, two shillings. To sir Peter Champrent, in lieu of the bridal bed of the countess of Holland, the king's daugbtcr, which he ought to have had as his fee when she married the earl of Holiund at Ipswich, twenty marks. I'o Eeginald Page, to Jolm the vidulntor. and Pitz-Simon, minstrels, for making muistrelsy the day of the marriage of the king's daughter, the countess of Holland, fifty shillings each." ELEANORA OF CASTILE. 451 ved by d king ur lord lot yet ased to 1 of the By this itors, in ed they debtors, md her le king, soul of •dj and of their ins they one son. ge. The larr: the The king or bring- lous sum England the suc- t on the of Acre, Eleanora of Castile, was married at Ipswich (the yeai* before her father^s wedlock with Marguerite of France) to the count of Holland. Some circumstance connected with the wedding of the princess Isabella had put the royal widower of Eleanora of Castile in ' a violent fit of anger, for he threw the bride^s coronet behind the fire ; a freak which would never have been known, if the keeper of his privy-purse* had not been obliged to account for the outlay of money " to make good a large ruby and an emerald lost out of the coronet, when the king's grace was pleased to throw it behind the fire." A strange stormy scene, lost in the dimness of time, is assuredly connected with this incident, which occurred at Ipswich, January 18, 1297. It is doubtful if the young bride ever left England : two years afterwards her lord died, and she was left a widow, childless. She afterwards married the earl of Hereford, Humphrey de Bohun. Another entry mentions the birth of her first child : " October 30, 1303. To Robert le Norreys, servant to the lady Isabella, countess of Hereford, the king's daughter, for bringing news to the prince [of Wales] of the birth of her first son, 26/. ISs. 4d." Edward I. survived most of his beloved Eleanora's children. Joanna of Acre died soon after her father. The countess of Barr preceded him to th'. tomb, not long after the birth of her second son in 1298, and the countess of Hereford survived him but four years. The nun-princess, and the imfortunate Edward II., were the only individuals that reached the term of middle life out of the numerous family that Edward I. had by Eleanora of Castile. * Wardrobe-book of Edwnxd I., foL 4.7, at Bristol kindly com- some of the Fore Edwai'd ^0 sir Peter the king's the earl of \\Q viduloto'i't rringe of the 00^ MARGUERITE OF FRANCE, SECOND QUEEN OF EDWARD I. The family of Marguerite — Disconsolate widowerhood of Edward I. — ^Demands Marguerite's sister, Blanche la Belle — Edward contracted to Marguerite — Espousals — Maids of honour — Edward leaves his bride for the Scotch war — Queen foUows Edward — Lives at Brotherton — Eldest son born there — Left at Cawood — Queen goes to Scotland — Danger of journey owing to Wallace — Her coui"t at Dunfermline — High festival at Westminster-palace — Marguerite's gold circlet — Birth of the queen's second son — Queen's kindness — Robert Brace's crown — Queen saves a goldsmith's life — Benevolence to the mayor of Winchester — Residence at Winchester — Death of king Edward — Happy wed- lock of Marguerite — Her good qualities — Her historiographer John o' LondoTi — His sketch of Edward's character — Anecdotes of Edward — Lamentati( of the royal widow — Marguerit€'s visit to France— Friendship with her son-in- law — Widowliood — Early death — Burial — Charities — Foundations — Debut — Children — Present descendants. The early death of the hrave son and successor of St. Louis, king Phihp le Hardi^ left his youngest daughter, the princess Marguerite, fatherless at a very tender age. She was brought up under the guardianship of her brother Phihp le Bel, and carefuUy educated by her mother queen Marie, a learned and virtuous princess, to whom Joinville dedicated his immortal memoirs.* Marguerite early showed indications of the same piety and innate goodness of heart which, notwithstanding some superfluity of devotion, really distinguished the character of her grandfather, * I : ine me oi isi. jjoois. [. — Demands iarguerite — (cotch war — ere — Left at Wallace — Marguerite's less — Robert he mayor of ■Happy wed- in 0* London iamentatid h. her son-in- QS — DvlA» — St. Louis, B princess s brought Bel, and imed and immortal the same hstanding character MAKOrFiUTK OF FRANCE, SECOM> ' OF EDWARD L t, Tln' fimily v>f Marp\;eTite- — DlHcoixilute widowtriiwKi cif Kdwjinl I. •Dcnawvlii Margiii't ite'8 Kister, Dlauclic la Wt>ll(>,~ Krtwmrd KMitfOfted to Mat-gucrito — EhiK'USiil'-- Miuds or lu'iKnir — Kdwiud linvos his hridi! tVir tlie Sf-otch vvjir - QtitfC'ii tbllowa Kdw.ird -Li\i.f<- at IJnjihorlx^u— MUkft fini Ixirn then' li^-ft ;it Chw >-i4- Qn^nm pt**^ ^> Sci-tlund- -Danncr of journey owing^to VValiirc - Her .v.u! J i*»<»vt"ni«»ii(' • Hinli f(w:ivid i-irolot- Miff I. Id <.* • '/rf >'»< «^> o»* »*(.- -4^K?y»«» k'n'iiit*!' H'.');!rt Vb*.,**'* nmn — «i^H^i >v«i.^ a ^ i)«Jvvatu> l?i^ H»i»«k4»«p» &> i^wi aiuyor of TiiK ti.irly fi-^Ti .af ?i^ tfTvit'' ipii* VHJ ««ucce!»sor i»f St. Lorn:"', kin|jf Philip li* U**"!;. UiHx ht** 'n»^in^!»t' Jiuighter, iho princcp«« Mar^iiciiti?. fat{i«##'* td a t* ry tender Ji^'c. She whs hroii^^h' \i\) nnrlor the ^urr'Vau'^hip <»f her brother Pliilip ic BcK i'.nt^ cnrt'iully tHhicatiHi V* k.t ^l^)!her quKOU Mjirie, a UyuDefl ami viituous priiJO<'«««. u., ^\vn\i Join\'illf' tlic sum' piety nnd innatf fi^vodaf^M of Jumrt. nliirh, iiotwit})stHn(lix.i some NMipcHluity (>f ilevutiou, really tlibiiuj^ijii.shixl Uic tdiamtH*' of her ifranilfuthi'j, ' Iff tl«)M (rfSt. I^aU. .li, 1 1. •Deraajvlii 1) 'Matguirte — e )r»«!OU:l) vvar- : tbcro - -\Mt At pf^to Wiilinro -- >--MHl■^rul'^»t.^;^''8 .> ili^ muyor (if *ii h hOT Kon-in- *tu>a3^— iK'lrtu— • »f St. Loiii3, ihe princes?! WHS l)rou;5h' k Bci, an<< l(yin>efi ami his iiuinnrtiV! of the saw witbstaiulii'4 Lhe ciiaratn' • ■ /^//.;V/r^U/y' ,/ '^'U/rf\. LiMion, llpiirv '"fU.iirr, ICM MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 453 If Marguerite of France possessed any comeliness of person, her claims to beauty were wholly overlooked by contemporaries, who surveyed with admiration the exquisite persons of her elder brother and sister, and sumamed them, by common consent, Philip le Bel and Blanche la Belle. The eldest princess of France was ftdl six years older than Marguerite,* and was, withal, the reigning beauty of Europe when Edward I. was rendered the most disconsolate of widowers by the death of Eleanora of Castile. If an historian may be believed, who is so completely a contemporary that he ceased to write before the second Edward ceased to reign. Marguerite was substituted, in a marriage-treaty commenced by Edward for the beautiful Blanche, by a diplomatic manoeuvre unequalled for craft since the days of Leah and Rachel. It has been seen, that grief in the energetic mind of Edward I. assumed the character of intense activity; but after all was done that human ingenuity could contrive, or that the gorgeous ceremonials of the Romish church could devise, of funeral honours to the memory of the chere reine, his beloved Eleanora, the warhke king of England sank into a morbid state of melancholy. His contemporary chronicler empha- tically says, — " His solace all was reft sith she was from him gone. On fell things he thought, and waxed heavy as leail. For sadness him o'ermastcred since Eleanor was dead." ' A more forlorn widowerhood no pen can portray than is thus described by the monk Piers. Nevertheless, it is exceedingly curious to observe how anxious Edward was to ascertain the quaUfications of the princess Blanche. His ambassadors were commanded to give a minute description, not only of her face and manners, but of the turn of her waist, the form of her foot and of her hand ; hkewisc ' sa faqoun,' — perhaps dress and demeanour. The result of this inquisition was, that Blanche was perfectly lovely, for, to use the words which describe her, a more beautiful creatiu-e could not be found. Moreover, sire Edward, at his mature age, became violently in ' Soo Piers of Langtofh, oorruhoratod by SpfwlV calculntion of the Age of Marguerite. • i'iers uf Langtoft. 454 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. |j I love (from report) of the charms of Blanche la Belle. The royal pair began to correspond, and the damsel admonished him by letter that he must in all th^rsgs subiu > :o Ler brother, king PhiUp. In truth, the extreme wish of King Edward to be again united in wedlock with a fair and loving queen in- duced him to comply with conditions too hard even for a young bride to exact, who had a hand, a waist, and a foot peifect as those possessed by Blanche la Belle. Philip de- manded that Gascony r>hould be given up by Edward for ever, as a settlement on any posterity Edward might have by liis beautiful sister. To this our king agreed ; but when he sur- rendered the province, according to the feudal tenure,* to his suzerain, the treacherous PhUip refused to give it up, or let him marry his beautiful sister j and just at this time the name of Marguerite, the youngest sister of Blanche, a child of Uttle more than eleven years of age, is found in the marriage-treaty between England and France. The consternation of the king^s brother, Edmund of Lan- caster, when he found the villanous part Philip le Bel meant to play in the detention of the duchy r»f Guienne, is very apparent. His letter to king Edward assumes the style of familiar correspondence, and proves at the same time that earl Edmund vi^as with his consort at the French court, negotiating the royal wedlock. " After," says earl Edmund, " my lord and brother had surrendered, for the peace of Christendom, this territory of Cuscony to the will of France, king Philip assured me, by word of mouth, that he would agree to the aforesaid terms; and he came into my chamber, where the queen my wife' was, with monsieur Hugh de Vere, and master John de > This ceremony, as narrated by Tiers, is exceedingly like the rorrendcr of a modern copyhuld. " Ed^^ard without reserve sal give Philip the king The whole of Giwcony, without disturbing. ' After i\w forty days holdinff that feofment, Philip without delays sal give hack the tenement To Kdwnrd nnd to Hliincho, nnd the heirs thi.t of them Com*'. To tlmt ilk scrite Edward not Iuh sea!, That the gift woa poifn-t, and witli witucBKcs leoJ." a T)>e down«»r of Wavarris q-.HHii IJlmuhr, mother to Jane, wife of +hc king of Irance, was married to Edn.and of Laiica«tcr. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 455 le. The nonished • brother, Iward to ueen in- in for a i a foot hUip de- fer ever, e by liis I he sur- J,' to his p, or let he name of Uttle ^e-treaty of Lan- ;1 meant is very style of that earl jotiating lord and om, this assured foresaid leen my John de cndcr of a tu<>. Lacy, and he brought with him the duke of Bui^undy, and there he promised, according to the faith of loyal kings, that, in reality, all things should be as we supposed. And on this faith we sent master John de Lacy to Gascony, in order to render up to the people of the king of France the seisin of the land, as afore agreed. And the king sent the constable of France to receive it. And when these things were done, wo came to the two queens,' and they prayed the king of Fr.jice that he would forthwith give safe-conduct to my lord the king, to come and receive again his land and fortresses according to his covenant. And the king of France, in secret, in the pre- sence of queen Jane, told me he was grieved that he must return a hard answer before the council, but, nevertheless, he meant to fulfil all he had undert..ken. And forthwith he declared before his said council, * that he never meant to restore the territory of which he had just been given full seisin.' " Earl Edmund evidently concludes his letter in a great fright, lest Philip le Bel should persist in his cheating line of conduct ; but he makes a serious exhortation to his brother not to let sinall causes break the compact. His letter ia accompanied by a treaty of marriage, in which is inserted, not the name of the beautiful princess Blanche, but that of the chUd Marguerite. A fierce war immediately ensued, lasting from 1291! to 1298, daring which time Edward, who at sixty had no time to lose, was left half married to Blanche ; for, according to Piers of Langtoft, who seems intimately acquainted with this curious piece of secret history, the pope's dispensation had already been granted." It was not till the year 1298 that any pacific arrangement took plsice between Edward and the brother of Blanche. The treaty was then renewed for Marguerite, who had grown up in the mean time. The whole arrangement was referred to the arbitration of the pope, who decreed " that Guicnne was to be restored to the right owner; that Edword I. should iic king of ' Joanne of Navarre, the (juecn of France, and her mother queen Ulancbe» dowagur nf Navarre, wife of Luncu-ster. ' The Ciu'tH Htated by Piers are niont satisfactorily confirmed by Wikes. Like- wise by tlie learned researches of sir Harrio Nicolas ; see a Iiatin iKJcm preserved in the City archives, — Chronicle of London, p. 132. 456 \LA.RGUERITE OF FRANCE. I marry Marguerite ; and that she should be paid the portion of fitteen thousand pounds left her by king Philip le Hardi, her father." This sum the chronicler Piers verily believes Phihp le J3el meant to appropriate to his own use. Piers does not say why the younger sister was substituted instead of Blanche/ but he seems to insinuate, in these lines, that she was the better character : — «* Not dame Blanche the sweet, Of whom I now spake j But dame Marguerite, Good withouten lack." " Now," says a Latin poem''' descriptive of the Scottish war, "the king returns, that he may marry queen Marguerite, the flower of France. When love buds between great princes, it drives away bitter sobs from their subjects." Marguerite was married to Edward, who met her at Can- terburj'^, by Robert de Winchelsea, September the 8th, 1299. " On Tuesday, the day of Our Lady's nativity, in the twenty- seventh year of the king, arrived dame Meregrett, the daughter of king Philip, at Dover, and proceeded the following day to Canterbury; and the present Thursday after, came Edward king of England into the church of the Trinity of Canter- bury, and espoused the aforesaid Meregrett, queen of England, of the age of xx years."* The Patent rolls* preserve the memory of the circumstance, that the young queen was en- dowed by her warlike bridegroom with her dower at the door of Canterbury cathedral. Such was in conformity with * It was becnnsc the beautiful Blanche had the prospoet of being empress, lilandie, daughter of I'liilip le Hard!, and sJHter to Philip le Bel, married Rodolphus duke of Austria, eldest son to the emperor Allwrt I. Her husband was afterwards king of Bohemia. Tins marringe was arranged between king Philip and All)ert. The young lady, who had accompanied ber brother, was betrothed at To\d, in Lorraine, in the spring of 1299. — Du Fresne's Notes to Memoirs of the I'rinro de Joinville. ' Song of the Scottish Wars. Political Songs of England, Camden Society, 178. " Tliis curious entry, ccmnccted with the arrival of lady Marguerite of France, appears in the old French api^ndix to the Chnniicle of tlie Mayors and Corpora- tion of London.- -De Antiquis Lcgibus Liber; Camden Society, edited by Thomiw Stapleton, es(|., f.a.s. * In the Tower of London. Tlie Latin preface sets forth the fact of the settle- men!; on Margnerite being made at the clmrch-d(K)r. Wo shall see the same custom eABctly fiiHowvu st the wedlock of Katharine of Arragon and Arthur prince of Wales. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 457 i L'ty, 178. Friincp, ;!orpora- Thoiniw c se+tle- le same Arthur a very ancient custom, in compliance with which, royal brides of England demanded and received a formal investiture of lands and other endowments from their kings in the face of the whole congregation, assembled to witness the settlement * as well as the nuptial rite. Among " the folk of good array," sent by Phihp for the accommodation of the May, his sister,^ we find by the ward- robe-book of Edward I. that there were three ladies of the bedchamber, and four noble demoiselles, or maids of honour, Among these attendants are two French, «. • Agnes de la Croise, to whom was paid ten marks ; and Matilde de Val, one hun- dred shillings. Two ladies were sent from England to wait on the yomig queen ; these were the lady Vaux and the lady Joanna Fountajnie : each received 10/. Our chroniclers speak much of the goodness of Marguerite of France, and she seems to have deserved the respect and affection of her royal lord. At the time of her marriage with the king of England, her niece, the young daughter of king Philip, was solemnly be- trothed to her son-in-law Edward. The public entry of queen Marguerite into London did not. take place until a month after her wedlock. " On Siuiday before the day of St. Edward, (October 13,) came queen Mar- guerite from the Tower to Westminster : the earls of Savoy and Bretagne, the mayor of London and his aldermen, and a train of thi'ee hundred burgesses of the city, were in her suite. Two conduits were in Cheap, which jett(^'1 wine; while cloths of gold, hung from all the windows, greeted her first view." ' ' There is a trace of tins good custom in the marringe-sorvice ir our liturgy, where the church kindly makes the bridegroom endow his bride -a H h all bis worldly goods, ay, and long after the Reformation, give her a handful of silver and gold as earnest, — a promise which the practical working of secular law virt.ually reverses. '"Philipfor that Jlay Made providei ce ready; With folk of good array To Dover came she." In the king's household-book there is a present of two hundred marks to tho valet of the king's ebamber. Edinnnd de Cornwall, on occai^ion of the king'n marriage with Marguerite of France. • De Antiquis Legibus Liber ; Camden Society. \\ I 458 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. The stormy aspect of the tunes did not afford the royal bridegroom leisure to attend to the coronation of Marguerite. King Edward had very Httle time to devote to his bride ; for, to his great indignation, all his barons, taking the opportunity of his absence, thought proper to disband themselves and dis- perse their feudatory miUtia, leaving their warlike king but the shadow of an army to pursue the advantages he had gained by the sanguinary battle of Falkirk. In less than a week the royal bridegroom departed with fiery speed to crush, if possible^ he noble efforts the Scotch were making for their freedom. He left London the Wednesday after his marriage. The queen, while her husband was thus engaged, remained in London, and resided chiefly at the Tower. The suite of apartments where the queens Oj England had previously kept their state at Westminster having been lately destroyed by fire, the royal palace of the Tower was, in fact, the only metropolitan residence at which Marguerite could sojourn. Before her abode was settled at the Tower, king Edward took the precaution of issuing his royal mandate to the civic .authorities, in which, after informing them,' "that his be- loved companion the queen would shortly sojourn in the Tower of London, he enjoins that no petitioner from the city should presume to approach that spot, lest the person of the queen be endangered by the contagion being brought from the infect ad air of the city." During the summer succeeding the queen's bridal, her court at the Tower was placed almost under quaiantine, owing to the breaking out of a pestilence, remarkable for its infectious natm-e. From the writings of Gaddesden, court physicifm at this time, we come to the con- clusion that this was the smallpox, imported by Edward the First's crusade, from Syria. After this summer, queen Marguerite spent the principal part of her time, hke her predecessor, Eleanora of Castile, following the camp of king Edward ; and when the ferocious contest he was carrying on in Scotland made her residence in that kingdom too dangerous, she kept court in one of the nonnem couniifH. Edward set out with his queen and his * Order dated from Carlisle, June 2Slh. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 459 eldest son in April 1300, and taking his route through Lincoln- shire, crossed the Humber into Yorkshire, and left the queen at Brotherton, a village on the banks of the Wlierfe, in York- shire. Here that prince was bom from whom the noble family of Howard is directly descended, and in whose right the head of that house bears the honour of " earl marshal of England." Marguerite gave birth to prince Thomas on the 1st of June. The queen had made rich offerings to the shrine of Canterbury previously to the birth of her infant, and she named him Thomas, after the favourite English saint.' •* The king bid her not stay, but come to the north countrie. Unto Brotherton on Wlierfe : tliere was she Mother of a son, that child hight Thomas. When the king heard say she had so vfaVifa/rn, [faredj Thither he went away to see her and her bairn. The queen, with her soi., at Cawood leaves he. And oft he came on Ouse her to y-see." * The young queen was stationed at Cawood-castle, a mag- nificent pUe of feudal grandeur, being a country-seat belonging to the archbishopric, seven miles from York. King Edward often came there down the Ouse to see her and her infant. She was resident at Woodstock in the summer of the succeed- ing year, for she gave birth to her second son, Edmund, August 5th, 1301. Marguerite returned, however, to Cawood, and made it her principal abode ^ till the year 1304. Her husband then considered Scotland subdued from sea to sea, and as completely prostrate as the principality of Wales ; upon which he sent for his young queen to behold his triumph, and to keep Christmas at DunfermUne."* Piers of Langtoft declares there was much danger in her journey ; for though Scotland was apparently subdued, the woods and highways swarmcfi with armed men, who would not come in and submit to the conqueror. Thus irreverently does that time-serving historian sing of a hero, whose memory has been embalmed by the justice of more modern ages. Speaking of the danger of the royal Marguerite's joimaey to Dmifermline, he says, — ' Year-book of Edward I. ' Piers of Langtofb. If ^ For seven years, at this juncture, the courts of King's-beneh and tho Excheijuer were held at York, to be near the royal court, — Walsingham. 460 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. i i: ll *' By th-xt the war was ent [ended], winter was three year. To Dunfermeline he went, for rest will he there. For the queen he sent, and she did dight her cheer j From Cawood she went to Dunfermeline to fare. But the lord of Badenoch, Fraser, and Wallace Lived at thieves' law, and robbed all the ways. They had no sustenance the war to maintain, But lived upon chance, and robbed aye between." Scotland, at the time when queen Marguerite kept her cuart, the Christmas of 1304, at High Dunfermline/ seemed to lie bleeding at the feet of Edward j every fortress had sur- rendered, excepting StirHng-castle, from whose imconquered heights the '^oyal lion of Scotland still floated in the national banner. Marguerite and Edward kept their royal state at Dunfermline until the last fatal wound was supposed to be inflicted on Scotland, by the treacherous capttire of Wallace and the fall of StirHng. Leaving lord Segrave commander at DunfermUne, Edward and his queen commenced their cele- brated triumphal progress homeward to England. Whether Edward brought Wallace in chains with him in this triumphal progress^ cannot be precisely determined, but his cruel execu- tion was the commencement of the high festivities held by Edward and his young queen at Westminster, to celebrate the conquest of unhappy Scotland.' While the atrocious execution of Wallace was perpetrated, queen Marguerite and her court were making preparations for the grandest tournament ever celebrated in England since, * Among the scanty notices of the residence of the queen's court at Dunferm- line, there is in the household-book of Edward I. a payment of forty shillings to John, the young son of John the bailiff, as boy -bishop in the chapel of Dunferm- line ; and forty shillings to Nicholas, the valet of the earl of Ulster, for bringing the news of the defeat of sir Simon Frnser and William Wallace at Koppesowe, by Latimer, Segrave, and Clifford. * A tradition of Carlisle exists, which points out the arch of the castle-gateway as the spot where Wallace passed a night manacled in his cart, during his bitter progress through England. This circumstance favours the supposition that he was brought in the royal train, and that room could not be found in the castle to lodge the forlorn prisoner. 3 We here subjoin the commenc«ment of a song of malignant triumph, sung by the English, to commemorate the savage and unjust murder of this hero. Wo only disencumber the lines of their uncouth spelling. It is a specimen of English verse in the year 1305. — From the Harleian MSS., fol. 61. Brit. Museum. " With fetters and with gyves Wallace was y drawn From the Tower of London, ITiat many might know ; In a kirtle of borrel, [coarse cloth] Selcouth wise Through Chope, And a garland on his head of the newest guise. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 461 kept her * seemed had sur- jonquered J national L state at sed to be t Wallace »mmander cheir cele- Whether triumphal iiel execu- s held by celebrate irpetrated, iparations land since, at Dunferm- shillings to of Dunierm- for bringing Koppesowe, 3tle-gatcway ig his bitter lition that he the castle to tiph, sung hy Is hero. We [jn of English seum. le cloth] Lewest guise. as the chroniclers declare, the days of king Arthur's round table. On New-year's day, 1306, this tournament was held at Westminster-palace, where prince Edward received knight- hood, and was invested with the principality of Wales ; two hundred young nobles were knighted, and two of the king's grand-daughters married or betrooLied. The festival of St. John the Baptist, the same year, was likewise kept with grand cere- monial. Among the parhamentary rolls we meet the following memoranda of this event : — " Thomas de Fro wick, goldsmith of London, prays king Edward for the payment of 22/. 10s. for a circlet of gold made for Marguerite queen of England, to wear on the feast of St. John the Baptist." This gold- smith had previously made a rich crown for the queen, and by the orders of the king left his bill with John de Cheam and his fellows, who had neglected it ; and being injured by the delay, he prays the king, in 1306, " for God's sake, and the soul of his father king Henry, to order payment." He is answered, " that he may take his biU to the king's exchequer, adding to it the charge for certain cups and vases which he had likewise made, and the clerk of the exchequer should pay him 440/. in part of his bill." Thus we find that queen Marguerite was provided with a splendid state crown though she was never crowned, — a ceremony prevented by the poverty of the finances. Marguerite is the first queen since the Con- quest who was not solemnly crowned and anointed. Queen Marguerite's beautiful sister, Blanche duchess of Austria, died towards the close of 1305. Early in the suc- ceeding year, prayers for her soul were commanded by king Edward to be solemnly observed by the archbishop of Canter- bury, because " she was the dear sister of his beloved consort queen Marguerite." The king certainly bore no malice for the perfidy of his former love, doubtless being convinced that he had changed for the better. From the royal household-books may be gleaned a few particulars of the Enghsh court arrangements at this time. The king's state ship was called, in comphment to the queen, ' the Margaret of Westminster / it does not seem a ship of war, but a sort of royal yacht, in which the king made his 462 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. voyages when he went to the continent. The queen allowed her chief minstrel, who was called ' Guy of the Psaltery/ a stipend of 28s.; he received bouche of court, (or board at court,) and had the use of three horses when the queen was in progress. Guy of the Psaltery often received gratuities from king Edwai'd, who was, as well as his young queen,^ a lovei of music and the fine arts, and frequently encouraged their professoi-s, as may be seen by these articles of his expen- diture : " To Melioro, the harper of sir John Mautravers, for playing on the harp while the king was bled, 20s. : likewise to Wfliter Luvel, the harper of Chichester, whom the king found playing on his harp before the tomb of St. Richard, at Cliichester cathedral, 6s. M. : to John, the organist of the earl of Warrenne, for playing before the king, 20s."* The queen gave birth at Woodstock, in the thirtieth year of her husband's reign, to her second son, prince Edmund, who was afterwards the unfortunate earl of Kent. The nun- princess Mary, daughter of Edward I., came from her cloister to bear her step-mother company after she had taken her chamber. The queen, on her recovery, went on a pilgrimage of thanksgiving with the nun-princess. About this time " twenty-six pieces of dimity were given out from the king's wardrobe-stores to make queen Marguerite * Houi?eliold-book of Edw. I., pp. 7-95. * Very diiferent is another entry in the expenses of the music-loving hero. " To seven women meeting the king on the road between Gask and Uggeshall, and singing before him as they had been accustomed to do in the time of king Alexander, 3*." Small in proportion is the benefaction bestowed by the con- quering Edward on those Scotch songstresses, who might have sung maledictions on him in their dialect for aught he knew to the contrary. While music and sculi)ture had attained some degree of perfection in England at this time, other arts and sciences were in a strange state of barbarous ignorance. The earliest notice of medical practice is to be found, at this era, in the Latin work of Gaddes- dcn, physician at the court of queen Marguerite. This learned doctor, describing his treatment of prince Edward in the small -pox, thus declares his mode of practice : " I ordered the prince to be enveloped in scarlet cloth, and that his bed and all the furniture of his chamber should be of a bright red colour j which practice not only cured him, but prevented his being marked." More by good luck than good management ; a.ssuredly, it may be supposed that Gaddesden wished to stare the red inflammation of the small-pox out of countenance by his glare of scarlet reflections ! He adds, in his Kosa Anglorum, that " he treated the sons of the noblest houses in England with the red system, and made good cures of all." Li this childish state was the noble art of healing at the court of Mai'guerit(> MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 463 allowed Itery/ a aoard at leen was fatuities [j^ueen/ a couraged is expen- ivers, for likewise the king ichard, at st of the bieth year Edmund, The nun- ler cloister taken her pilgrimage were given Marguerite ic-loviiig hero, md Uggeshall, time of king d by the con- ig maledictions hile music and lis time, other The earliest rork of Gaddes- ctor, describing ;8 his mo«l<' of h, and that his colour J which More by good hat Gaddesden ntonance by his mt " he treated and made good at the court of a feather bed/ and cushions for her charrette/' Instead of finding the natioual rolls and records burdened with notices of oppressive exactions made by the queen-consort, as in the case of Eleanor of Provence, it is pleasjint to observe that Marguerite's charitable kindness pervades these memorials, seen by few, and by still fewer appreciated. In the Exchequer rolls exist many precepts from the queen, ordering that debtois for fines due to her may be pardoned their debts, and more than one petition '" that debtors of her dear lord the king may have time extended, or be excused/'^ One of these royal supplications is curious, and proves that the queen and her two little sons, Thomas and Ednnmd, prevailed on king Edward to pardon their dear friend the lady Margaret Howard' a debt owed by that lady to the crown. As prince Thomas, the eldest son of queen largueT *te, was only six years old, and the infant Edmund much yoi ager, it may be judged who prompted the yomig petitione s, and how the queen must have made tlu caresses of ii infants wovv: on the heart of their great father. "To he honourable father in God, Walter bishop of Chester, treasurer to our lord, king, and father, Edmund, son of the king, salutes in great love. As our dear lady, madame the queen, has required, we would that you woidd grant to our good friend ma dame Marguerite, late wife of monsieur Robert Hereward, the remission of her debt. Written at Northampton, June 15."* Prince Thomas and the queen each wrote letters to the same eflfect, that their good friend may be spared her payment to the exchequer. Marguei'':r of France is not the first instance of a queen- consort of England who ventured to stand between a Plan* tagenet king in his wrath and his intended victim. We leam, by the statement contained in an act of pardon by Edward I., that Godfery de Coigners " had committed the heavy trans- gression and malefaction of making the coronal of gold that crowned the king's rebel and enemy, Robert de Brus, in Scot- ' Wardrobe-book, 34 Edward I. ' Household-book of Edward I. • The name is spelled ' Hereward ' in the French ; the order was sent by the queen to the barons of tlie Excliequer.-Ivladox's History of the Exchequer. The debt was some copyhold fine. "* Folic ii. 104i8. 4S4 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. ' land, and that he had secretly hidden and retained this coronal till a fitting occasion ; but that these treasonable doings had since been discovered, and convicted by the king's council." No doubt, Godfery the goldsmith would have been dealt with according to the tender mercies shown to Wallace and Fraser, if he had not found a friend in queen Marguerite ; " For," says Edward I., " we pardon him solely at the intercession of our dearest consort. Marguerite queen of England."' The citizens of Winchester were likewise deeply indebted to queen Marguerite, whose beneficent interference relieved them from the terrible consequences of king Edward's displeasure. To the mayor of Winchester had been confided the safe keeping of Bernard Pereres, a hostage of some importance, whom the city of Bayonne had deUvered to the king as a pledge of their somewhat doubtful loyalty. Bernard made his escape. On which king Edward stenaly commanded his sheriff of Hamp- shire to seize upon the city of Winchester, and to declare its liberties void, — thus reducing the free citizens to the s'ate of feudal villeins. The mayor he loaded with an enormous fine of three hundred marks, and incarcerated him in the Mar- shalsea till it was paid. In despair, the Winchester citizens appealed to the charity of queen ^larguerite. She recollected that, when she was first married, she had been received at Winchester with the most affectionate demonstrations of loyalty; moreover, she remembered that her husband had given her a charter, which entitled her to all the fines levied from the men of Winchester. Armed with this charter she went to her loving lord, and claimed the hapless mayor and his fine as her pei-soual property. She then remitted half the fine, took easy security for the remainder, and set the mayor at liberty ; nor did she cease pleading with her consort, till he had restored to Winchester the forfeited charters.' Queen Marguerite retired to Winchester, Avliere she was deservedly beloved, when she gave birth to a princess, — h(;r third, but the king's sixteenth child. The infant was called Eleanora, after Edwju'd's first qneen and liis eldest daughter, ' Rymer'd FiihUtii. • Milnor'i History of Wincho«t«T, from the Truwol MS. MARGUERITE OP FRANCE. 465 likewise deceased: she died in a few months. Marguerite certainly followed her royal lord on his last northern expedi- tion, for the Lanercost chronicle expressly declares, " that the king came to Lanercost-monastery, October 1st, 1306, very sick and infirm, accompanied by his queen Marguerite ; and that they staid there four days, when the royal pair paid a visit to Carlisle-castle for three days ;' but the king's health being daily dechniuj/ they returned to Lanercost and spent the Christmas there, and dwelt with the monks tiU February 28th." There are some indications that the queen was with the royal warrior when he laid on his death-bed. He was advancmg to invade Scotland with a powerful anny, but be- fore he reached the border he fell ill, at Burgh-on- Sands, He survived a few days, till the prince of Wales came up with the remaining forces time enough to receive his last commands, which breathed implacable fury against the Scots. The dying warrior, moreover, commanded his son " to be kind to his little brothers Thomas and Edward, and, above all, to treat with respect and tenderness his mother, queen Marguerite." Edward expired July 7th, 1307; while he remained unburied, 100/. was paid by his treasurer, Jolm de Tunford, for the expenses of the royal widow.'' The chroniclers of England record no fault or folly of queen Marguerite : notliing exists to contradict tlie assertion of Piers, that she was " good withouten lack," and a worthy successor to Eleanora of Castile. Like Adelicia of Louvaine, the queen of Hcniy I., Marguerite kept a chronicler to record the actions of her great lord. He was named * John o' London,' (not a very distinctive appellation); but as we have ^'iven a personal sketch of Edward in his youth, we add a portrait of him in advanced life, drawn under the superin- tendence of his royal widow : — " His head spherical, (this is the second instance in which we have found that the chroniclers of the middle ages notice the form of the head) ; his eyes romid, * Probably to meet his parliament, suiiiinoiu'd to OBHpmblo at CarliHle that year. The king, in oonsidoration of the great trouble given to the monks of Liuicroust by this royal residence, prorented them with Bouie gruuti of land. '' Issue UoIIb. VOL. I. Vi VL 466 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. I gentle and dove-like when pleased, but fierce as a lion^s and sparkling with fire when he was disturbed ; his hair crisp or cui'Hng, his nose prominent, and raised in the middle ; his chest broad, his arms agile, his limbs long, his feet arched, his body firm and fleshy, but not fat. He was so strong and active, that he could leap into his saddle by merely putting his hand on it. Passionately fond of hunting, he was engaged with his dogs and falcons when not in war. He was seldom iU, and neither lost his teeth, nor was his sight dimmed with age. He was temperate ; never wore his crown after the coronation, thinking it a burden ; he went about in the plain garments of a citizen, excepting on days of feetival." — " What could I do more in royal robes, father, than in this plain orabardine?" said Edward once to a bishop, who remonstrated with him on his attire as unkingly.' How so elegantly proportioned a man as Edward I. came to be sumamed Longshanks has been a question to all writers since the opening of the stone sarcophagus in West- minster-abbey, when the body of this great warrior and legis- lator was found of just and fine proportions, without any undue length of legs : his stature was six feet two inches, from skull to heel. It appears that the insulting epithet, 'Longshaiiv?*.' was a sobriquet given by an incensed enemy, and first took its rise from a satirical song sung by the Scots when Edward laid siege to Berwick, being his first step in his ambitious invasion of Scotland.'' Edward is said to have been 80 incensed at this song, that when he had stormed Berwick he put every living soul to the sword, to the number of four thousand persons. In this siege he displayed the tine horse- manship for which he was noted. «• Wliat did king Edward P Pw'r be liad nono like ; Upon luK Ht4H}d Hiiyiird, Fin*t lie won the dike."* ' Camden's Hnnuina. ' " They that were within the totine, dofendwl it orpedly [manfully], and they set on flro kuig Edwurd'H Khijw, and Hang a Hcorn, — " What moaiieth kinsr Edward, with hin lomr-Hhouks. • To win lU-rwick and all our luithankH." ' Picn Lungtutl. MARGUERITE OP FRANCE. 467 and they Besides this steed 'Bayard/ another, called 'Grey Lyard/ is celebrated in the barons' wars as one on -which he ever " charged forward;" Ukewise his horse 'Ferraunt/ "black as a raven, on whose back, though armed in proof, sire Edward could leap over any chain, however high."' No chevalier of his day was so renowned for noble horsemanship as this most accomplished monarch. Yet it is certain that all which finally remained from his ambitious war in Scotland, was the insulting sobriquet of Longshanks. The original MS. of the queen's chronicler, John o' London, is a great curiosity. It is written in Latin on vellum, very finely and legibly penned, and ornamented with initial letters, illuminated with gold and colours : the centres of the most of these are unfinished, and the manuscript itself is a fragment. The description of Edward's person is accompanied by an odd representation of his face, in the midst of an initial letter. The features bear the same cast as the portraits of the king : there is the small haughty mouth, the severe penetrating eyes, and the long straight nose. The king is meant to be shown in glory, but the head is surrounded with three tiers of most suspicious-looking flames : however, such as it is, it doubtless satisfied the royal widow, to whom the work was dedicated. " The noble and generous matron, Margareta, by the grace of God queen of England, invites all men to hear these pages." The plan of the oration is to describe the doleful bewailings of all sorts and conditions of persons for the loss of the great EdwarfV Of course the lamentation of the royal widow holds a distinjj^iu.hed place in the < (//- 'le- moratio. It commences thus : " The lamentable comnir^ tion of Margareta, the queen. Hear, ye isles, and attend ray people, for is any sorrow like unto my sorrow? Though my head wears a crown, joy is distant from me, and I listen no more to the sound of my cithera' and organs. I moiuTi incessantly, and am weary of my existence. Let all mankind hear the voice of my tribulation, for my desolation on our earth is complete." The queen's chronicler proceeds to para- plirajic the lament for Saul and Jonathan ; at length he ' V'wrx Lim^toft. Meiuiing the chuinx UJkxl, in dofoiiHive warfare, to guard giitiw and drawbridges. ' Harp. II H 2 408 MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. I remembers the royal Marguerite by adding, " At the foot of Edward's monument, with my Httle sons, I weep and call upon him. When Edward died all men died to me.-" These lamentations for a husband more than seventy, from a widow twenty-six, seem a little exaggerated ; yet the after-life of the royal Marguerite proved their sincerity. Her native historians mention her with bitterness, because they say that her aged spouse prevailed on her to write in her famihar letters false intelhgence to her brother the king of France, with whom he was at war. Marguerite's deceitful information caused Phihp le Bel to lose some towns in Flanders,' to the great indignation of the French. Possibly the queen was herself intentionally misinformed by her husband. Although queen Marguerite appeared in public earlier than was usual for the etiquette of royal widowhood in the four- teenth century, it was in obedience to the dying commands of her royal lord, whose heart was set on a French alliance. Soon after her husband's death she went to Boulogne with her son-in-law, and assisted at his marriage with her niece Isabella. At the birth of Edward III., queen Marguerite was present : her name is recorded as one of the witnesses of that event. This was according to the ancient customs of England, her two sons being next in succession to Edward II. While she lived, her niece, queen Isabella, led a virtuous and respectable hfe. Marguerite did not siurvive to see the infamy of this near relative, or the domestic wretchedness of her step-son, with whom she had always Hved on terms of affection and amity. Marguerite is the first queen of Eng- land who bore her arms with those of her husband in one scutcheon; her seal is affixed to the pardon of John Je Dalyeng, which pardon she had procured of her son-in-law, in the ninth year of his reign.* We trace the hfe of tliis beneficent queen-dowager by her acts of kindness and mercy. Uueen Marguerite's principal residence was Marlborough-cnstle, on the borders oi the fo- ' Montfaicon. • TIjo gfiil IB '>f rotl wnx, willi tlio li<«iiH of En^irland on tlic rinlit mh, and lirr own flonn-do-liH on tlic li-ft. They are einbluzunctl on a shield, and not on a luztngf.— St'O Sandfonl, p. 120. MARGUERITE OF FRANCE. 439 bot of id call These widow of the itorians sr aged rs false I whom caused ,e great herself ier than he four- aands of alliance. rae with ler niece arguerite aesses of stoms of ward II. aous and see the dness of ;erm8 of of Eng- in one John iie (u-in-law, l^r by her principal 1 the fo- i(l»>, and lit T ml not on ft rest of Savemake ; it was there she died, at the early age of thirty-six, on the 14th of February, 1317. King Edward the Second^s household-book has the following entry relative to this event : " Sent by the king's order, to be laid upon the body of the lady Marguerite, late queen of England, by the hands of John de Hausted at Marlborough, the 8th of March, two pieces of Lucca cloth.'' Also at the place of its final destination, the Grey Frinrs\ various other pieces of Lucca cloth were to be laid on her body, at the expense of the king. She was buried at the Grey Friars* church, the magni- ficent structure which she had principally founded :' her body was buried before the high altar, wrapped in the conventual robe of the Franciscans. The splendid monument raised to the memory of this beneficent woman was destroyed through the avarice of sir Martin Bowes, lord mayor, in the reign of queen Elizabeth : when the Grey Friars' church was made parochial, he, to the indignation of the antiquary Stowe, sold queen Marguerite's tomb and nine others of royal personages, together with a number of grave-stones, for 50/ Her mo- numental efRgy was lost owing to this barbarous destruction The features of Marguerite are delineated with minute dis- tinctness in the statuette which represents her on the tomb of her great-nephew, Jolm of Eltham. The cast of countenance which may be observed in most of the descendants of St. Louis (Louis IX.) is particularly marked in liis grand-daughter Marguerite : it does not form a beautiful face, although often- times one unitiT'g energy and good expression. The nose is large, long, p id straight, but instead of keeping the Grecian facial line, it ' iants forward and hangs over a short uppei" lip. The style of face is familiar to the pubhc in the portraits of Francis I. and Louis XL, where it is exaggerated to ugliness. It is seen in the statue of Louis IX., in the crypt of ^t. Denis: the hoi " king of France is no beauty, but has the moi^ '^ v. laible and gocdnatured express" possible. His grand-daughter, the second queen of our great Edward I., is here rep»*'^'^ented as a royal widow, but not as a profr i religieuset w.<> ,v ' Stowo. Sho l)C(^n tho choir in 130G, and finiwliod it ii; -lor wid<^whooil. 8ho loft by will 100 marks to this chnrdi. Tiiis foundation in now (^hrist-Churcli, Nuwgutv. Vast of Murguerito's original building is tliu cluistor of thu lidioul. I V L 470 MARGUEBITE OF FRANCE. gorget wimple and the French widow's veil over it, surmounted by a rich open crown of fleur-de-Hs, placed on a circlet of gems; she has her royal mantle on her shoulders, and a loose robe beneath, belted round with a splendid band studded with jewels. Such was hsri uppearance at the marriage of Edward II. with her niece T abdia^ and on state festivals at their courts. Marguerite loft ho" two sons joint-executors to her will. Edward IT. empowered ]ub '^\'3ai< -^l ,rotl)ers, " Thomas earl of iTorfblk, earl-marshal, and EduiUfid of Woodstock, co-exe- cutors by tile} testament of our mother of good memory, Mar- guenre, late queen of England, to execute the said testament ; and to have aQ goods ard ch itteL:. that belonged to the said queen, anri all her coni on Iwr manors, whether housed or growing g'eeif ia the eics'i, froia the 14th day of February last, when I'he died, x'318. They are to receive aU debts due to the queen-dowager, and pay what she owes, according to her will."' The troubles of the reign of Edward II. pre- vented the debts of the widow of his father from being paid, as we find th(j following petition concerning them. In the eighth year of Edward III. there is a petition to parliament* from Thomas earl of Norfolk, marshal of England, and exe- cutor of the testament of queen Marguerite his mother, pray- ing, " that the king will please to grant, of his good grace, that the debts of the deceased queen may be forthwith paid by his exchequer, according to the order of king Edward II., whom God assoil." Queen Marguerite is the ancestress of all our EngUsh nobility bearing the great name of Howard : the honours of her son Thomas P. >...; genet, earl-marshal, were carried into this famdy by his descendant, lady Margaret Mowbray, marrying sir Robert Howard. The Howards, through this queen, unite the blood of St. Louis with that of the mightiesit of the Plantagenet monarchs. The heiress of he? "Second sor Edmund earl r Kent, married first sir Thomr^ Uoliand, and lilack Prince: through h , this queen was ' nobihty who bore the li^me of Hoiljmd, !came extinct in the wars of the roses. then Edward ancestress of wiiich far ' 'I'tinentury RulU. > Ibi I. • ./. /. y/ y •'/>/^-^Y>:^ ssABKLL'V OF FRANCK, SURNAMi:jj THE FAIK. Wlt-KK '-.:? EDWARD !!. CHAtTK!! T. 3 JHoeila's |)?'rtnih\j.>-<:'-->5• lajUr-HS* 's'uj.t'.r.l ,!tj;liv;Uf* -Suiis fur E!ii?)ivnd "^^ith Kdvvard U. :-mi-iv,,j|y. ftif hiifww V.'. vast on li'^r at iMvuT- \\'.:r •svstr ':.»{/*:- Imt -■.!?.:>«: .>?■ ■ i*«'...'r.*«r* ftr-vi v;.uimuii(xl Ihereio—- Slight* A(;,.r!,j ti. IvKht'll.i, ■ U'jrf'tiscw.iijiiaiuti* -ltv-,.>pn>-- Her {.nj.uUiiK — H'.T jp!i,l,)iisy o: «.-,.vi.*t,-'r. Cin! wur- - < 'Mtvr'f <-han- *• MwiiiiUs' jwaw with ■ rtjom— Birlii »'•' h»^r elu> t .•;>v,..-{v*» ■;<> t-si fur stivants- (^uwii g(>'\^ to Fnuico widi the king - Rt-f >ini ' ' • >ti, iiiutit*ty — Conjnjjiil liappinesft- Birth It:" her scvrnd «>ii - Q',i"t'n's rs ■ ,i|. ruK - JiirU) ■^t !; king- -Morfiai.-rV iiiiith— 1; r j^. ■ .' l>.'S(<»Mivt'rrt — lJoiinv»s) ()i )t. r r. ■•!Mii>»- I^i-r t icni;!! Mrs;ii>?-f disr»iiK)«.^ f?iir Miicl false IIUVmIh, (;f .Savo'i rrli>hri7v no i;iK« p .«r |",j)^poii!»t'd [i ! x\<' Bffr ■ ■^'l*'"' ■:w-^i "i^'V:' ^r$-;,. '^•: -J'< .*" "^11 i '1 »l ■-•/ / ISABELLA OF FRANCE, SURNAMED THE FAIK, QUEEN OF EDWAED II. CHAPTER I. Isabella's parentage — Both parents reigning sovereigns — Her portion — Affianced to the prince of Wales — Her great beauty — Her marriage — Nuptial festivities — Sails for England with Edward II. — Summons for ladies to wait on her at Dover — Her wardrobe — Her coronation — Peeresses first summoned thereto— Slights offered to Isabella — Queen's complaints — Revenues — Her popularity — Her jealousy of Gaveston — Civil war — Queen's charity — Mediates peace with barons — Birth of her eldest son — Presents to her servants — Queen goes to France with the king — Return — Obtains amnesty — Conjugal happiness — Birth of her second son — Queen's churching-robe — Birth of her eldest daughter — Gifts to queen's nurse and servants — King's grants to Isabella — Her residence at Brotherton — Roger Mortimer — Queen's pilgrimage to Canterbury — Inso- lence of lady Badlesmere — Indignation of the queen — She excites the civil war — Birth of princess Joanna in the Tower — Queen Isabella's first acquaintance with Mortimer — Her influence with the king — Mortimer's plots — His escajie — Queen's jealousy of the Despencers — Deprived of her revenues — Her French servants dismissed — Complaints to her brother — Estrangement of the king — Isabella mediatrix with France. Since the days of ihe fair and false Elfrida, of Saxon celebrity, no queen of Engrland has left so dark a stain on the annals of female royalty as the consort of Edward II., Isabella of France. She was the eleventh queen of England from the Norman conquest, and with the exception of Judith, the consort of Ethelwulph, a princess of higher rank than had ever espoused a king of England. She was the offspring of a marriage between two sovereigns, — PhiUp ie Bel, king of France, and : I 1 1 it 472 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Jane queen of Np^iire. Three of her brothers, Louis le Hutin, Philip le Long, and Charles le Bel, successively wore the royal diadem of France. Isabella was only four years old when her fatal wedlock with Edward of Caernarvon was determined, the preliminaries for that alUance forming a clause in the treaty negotiated between her father and Edward I. for a marriage between that monarch and her aunt, Marguerite of France.' It was agreed at the same time that the king her father was to give Isabella a marriage-portion of eighteen thousand pounds, and that she was to succeed to the dower which Edward I. settled on his bride as queen of England. The i-ope's dispensation for matrimony to be contracted between Edward prince of Wales and Isabella of France was published in the year 1303. The ceremonial of their betrothment was then solemnized in Paris, according to the usual forms. The earls of Lincoln and Savoy, as the procurators of the royal suitor, asked the lady Isabella in marriage for the prince of Wales of her august parents, Philip king of France and Jane queen of Navarre, whose consent having been given, pere Gill, arch- bishop of Narbonne, repeated to the little princess the words in which the prince of Wales desired to plight her his troth ; whereupon she placed her hand in that of the archbishop, in token of her assent, on condition that all the articles of the treaty were duly performed.'^ Isabella, who was bom in 1295, was then in her ninth year. Edward I. was so desirous of this aUiance, that among his death-bed injunctions to his heir he charged him, on his bless- ing, to complete his engagement ^vith Isabella. This was, in truth, the only command of his djdng sire to which Edward II. thought proper to render obedience. Such was his haste to comply with a mandate which happened to be in accordance with his own inchnation, that before the obsequies of his deceased king and father were performed, he despatched the bishops of Durham and Norwich, with the earls of Lincoln and Pembroke, to the court of France, to appoint a day for * Rymer's FcederSj Yoh ii» p» 928. 8 TUM ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 473 the solemnization of his nuptials. His am^iii "^adors* reports of the charms of his intended bride made p > livaiy an impres- sion on the mind of Edward II., that he is repioached by the chroniclers of his reign, with having lost the kingdom of Scotland tlirough his impatience to secm-e his prize.' His recognition as king of that realm, depended on his remaining there till the important affairs which required his presence were settled; but treating every consideration of pohtical expediency with lover-hke contempt, he hasted to the fulfil- ment of his contract with the royal beauty. There was the less cause for such imseasonable promptitude, since the fair Isabella had scarcely completed hei thirteenth year. Great preparations were made at Westminster-palace for the reception of the young queen. The royal apartments, which had been burnt down in the preceding reign, and had been rebuilt, were completed and furnished; the gardens were new tiu*fed and trehsed, the fish-ponds were drawn and cleaned, and a sort of pier jutting into the Thames, called ' the queen's bridge,' was repaired. The royal ship called ' the Margaret of Westminster' was, with her boats and barges, entirely cleaned and beautified. Various butteries and ward- robes were constructed in the vessel, not only by the com- mand, but according to the device of the king himself, for his expected queen's accommodation.^ After appointing his recalled favourite. Piers Gaveston, guardian of the realm, Edward sailed, early on Monday morning, January 22, 1308, accompanied by his mother-in-law, queen Marguerite, to meet his bride. He landed at Boulogne, where Isabella had ah'eady arrived with her royal parents The next day, being the festival of the Conversion of St. Paul, the nuptials of Isabella and her royal bridegroom were celebrated, in the cathedral of Boulogne, with peculiai* magnificence. Four sovereigns, and as many queens, graced the bridal with their presence. These were the king and queen of France, the parents of the bride; Marie, queen- dowager of France, her grandmother ; Ijouis, king of Navarre, ' Annais of St. Augustin. Walsingham. Rapin. ' Bray ley and Britton's History of the Palace of Westminster, pp. 114-117. 474 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Ill her brother, — to whom queen Jane, their mother, had resigned the kingdom she inherited; the king and queen of the Romans; the king of Sicily; and Marguerite, queen- dowager of England, Isabella's aunt. The archduke of Austria was also present, and the most numerous assembly of princes and nobihty that had ever met together on such an occasion. The dowry of the bride was provided from the spoils of the hapless knights Templars, who had been recently tortured, pi mdered, and murdered by her father.' Like most ill-gotten gains, this money by no means prospered in the spending. The beauty of the royal pair, whose nuptials were celebrated vnth. this extraordinary splendour, excited universal admiration ; for the bridegroom was the handsomest prince in Europe, and the precocious charms of the bride had already obtained for her the name of Isabella the Fair." Who, of all the royal and gallant company, witnesses of these espousals, could have be- lieved their fatal termination ? or deemed that the epithet of ' she-wolf of France ' could ever have been deserved by the bride? High feasts and tournaments were held for several days after the espousals, at which the nobility of four royal courts assisted. These festivities lasted nearly a fortnight. Edward and IsabeUa were married on the 25th of January, and on the 7th of February they embarked for England, and landed at Dover the same day. There is in the Fojdera a copy of the summonses that were sent to Alicia, the wife of Roger Bigod, earl of Norfolk, the coimtess of Hereford, and other noble ladies, by the regent Piers Gaveston, in the king's name, appointing them to be at Dover on the Sunday after the Purification of the Virgin Mary, to receive the newly-wedded queen, and to attend her on her progress to Westminster.' The king and queen remained at Dover two days, where Piers Gaveston came to receive them. The moment the king saw him, he flew to him, fell on his neck, and called him " brother," * — conduct which greatly displeased the (jueen and her uncles. From Dover the royal party proceeded to Eltluim, 1 p. ' Do la Moor, p. 1 : UritiHli Miintniiii. . A \Jt TCSM • . i Vvxt Koulii k Hoi, vol. xxxiv. ' lhi ortiok's onunuTiiUHl would Imvo coot a gn.>at deal uiure, luUc'fw tliu livrcH iiR'aiit )k)uiu1h Ht4is tlu'cc ' Milles' Ctttalogup of Honour, and Troiwury of Truo Nobility. Carte. ' The kiiipr'H rtrnt o(rtTiii>,f was u punui of ^old, fiv*iiiono(l in tlio likcncHs of a king holding ii rin^ in IiIh hand. I lis sccord whm ci^ht ouncoH of ^old, in tho form of a ])il(;rnn puttinjj; forth hiK hand t<> take tlio ring, or rathor, we should think, to give it; for thiH (U'viv«' nim'wntiHl the legend ((f Edward the Confensor rocviving thp ring from St. John the Kvangelint in VVnUhani-f()re«t, fnnn whenee Havering- bower derive«l itn name. This very ring w dtH-lantl hy tradition tu bo tuv roroiuition ring iier i)reiieut uii\jet>ty received ut her inauguration. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 477 ivourite, lanished ig coro- le knew egiance, ;ir satis- :ly after Thomas Crouch- lenry of ivith the bounds, B envied •avourite, itly than le of the ation for a slaying 'chbishop ,t period, by the ronation, ;er desire queen ; death, ment of Ills were •iverscly a scene MS tlircc Carto. t'lioKs of a (i)Ul, in tlio , we sliDiiW 1' Coiitl'Hsor roiii wluiu'f litiou lu bu o'clock before the consecration of the king and queen was over ; and when we consider the shortness of the winter days, we cannot wonder at the fact stated, that though there was abundance of provisions of every kind, there was not a morsel served up at the queen's table before dark.' The lateness of the dinner-hour appears to have excited the indignation of the hungry nobles more than any other of Gaveston's misdeeds that day. The banquet was, moreover, badly cooked, and when at last brought to table, ill-served, and few of the usual ceremonies were observed, for the want of the proper officers to oversee and direct. In short, all classes were dissatisfied and out of humour, especially the queen, on whom many shghts were put, but whether out of accident or wilful neglect is not stated.'' The French princes and nobles returned home, in a state of great exasperation at the affronts which they considered their princess had received ; and Isabella herself sent a letter to the king her father, full of complaints of her lord and his all-powerful favourite, Gaveston.^ This had the eflPect of inducing Philip le Bel to strengthen the party of the discontented barons against Gaveston with all his influence, and gave an excuse td the French party for commencing those intrigues, which terminated so fatally at last for Edwsird II. The English crown, owing to the wixrs in Scotland, vvsis at that time in great pecuniary distress, which was imputed to king J Idward's gifts to Gaveston, and it is certain that he was una]»le either to pay his coronation expenses, or to maintain his household. As for his young queen, she was wholly without money, which caused her gresit uneiisiuess and dis- content. It is possible, that if Isabella hud been of an age more suitable to tliat of her husband, and of a less luiughty temper, her beauty and talents might have created a eounter- influ';nce to that of the Gascon favourite, productive of bene- ficial effects; but the king wjis in his thrce-and-twentieth year, and evidently con.^itlered a consort who was only enter- ing lier teens as entitled to u very trifling degree of atten- tion, either as a que( n or a wife. Isabella was, however, perfectly aware of the importance of lier position in the English - VUI'U). WiilBingliiun. Ibid. (1 ii I I I Ii w. 478 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. court ; and even had she been as childish in mind as she was in age, she was too closely alhed in blood to the great leaders of -he disaffected peers of England, — Thomas earl of Lancaster, and his brother, Henry earl of Derby, to remain quiescently in the backgromid. The mother of the above-named nobles, Blanche of Artois, the queen-dowager of Navarre, was Isa- bella's maternal grandmother;' consequently the sons of queen Blanche, by her second marriage with Edmund earl of Lancaster, were half-uncles to the young queen, and reso- lutely determined to act as her champions against Piers Gaveston, who was now alhed to the royal family by his marriage with Margaret of Gloucester, the daughter of Edward's sister, Joanna of Acre.^ Gaveston was not only the Adonis of the English court, but remarkable for his knightly prowess, graceful manners, and sparkling wit. It was the latter qualification which rendered him peculiarly displeasing to the English nobles, whom he was accustomed to deride and mimic, for the amuse- ment of his thoughtless sovereign ; nor was the queen exempted, when he was disposed to display his sarcastic powers.^ The sins of the tongue are those which more fre- quently provoke a deadly vengeance than any other offence, and Gaveston's greatest crime appears to have been the fatal propensity of saying unforgivable things in sport. Isabella's father secretly incited the English barons to a combination against Gaveston, which compelled the king to promise to send him beyond seas. Tliis engagement Edward deceitfully perlbrmed, by making him viceroy of Irehmd, which country he ruled with great ability. The queen's pecuniiuy distresses were then brought before the lords/ and as they found there was no money in the treasury to furnish her with an income befitting her station, the revenues of Ponthieu and Moiitrieul, the inheritance of the king's mother, were appropriated to ' Millos' Cfttril(^giio of Honour. Urookos. SpcMl, &c. 'ic. ' Tho barons wore ••xiwiK'rnt4'(l at this iiiarriag(s wliich made tlio fivvourito E(lwar«rH m'phi'Wj yet tlio curi of Olouct'HttT, who wiw certainly thr jHTson whom it more nearly conft-nied, as he was tlie younj? huly's brother, uitjK-Hred jicrfeetly Kiitisflwl, and reniaini'd (lave8t<)n's firm friend, and it is more tbiia urOuablo tiist the li'.'.'.y litTrtt'!!' V: tis qusti.' Hgroyuble to tbw miion. * Wakingham. * Curto. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 479 ihe was leaders Qcaster, 3sceiitly nobles, vsLB Isa- sons of 1 earl of id reso- it Piers r by his ;hter of sh court, manners, )n which li nobles, e amuse- le queen I sarcastic more fre- oifence, the fatal sabella's Tibination omise to eceitfully country distresses und there m income ^loiitrieul, n-iated to llu> fiivonrito i,T, ajnKMirt'«l moro tliuu her use. The king specified his wish, " that his dearest con- sort, Isabella queen of England, should be honourably and decently provided with all things necessary for her chamber ; and all expenses for jewels, gifts, and every other requisite."' During the first year of Isabella's marriage with Edward II., her father, Phihp le Bel of France, appears to have acquired some degree of ascendancy in the councils of the nation ; for we observe several letters in Rymer's Foedera from Edward to his father-in-law> in which he condescends to explain his conduct with regard to Gaveston to that monai'ch, and weakly soheits Ids mediation with his turbulent barons. The follow- ing year Gaveston took occasion to return to England, to attt;ud a tournament at WaUingford.^ The magnificence of his retinue, and the great number of foreigners by whom he was surrounded, served to increase the jealous displeasure of the barons. Gaveston, according to his old practice, retaliated their hostility with scornful raillery, and on this occasion bestowed provoking sobriquets on the leaders of the feud against him. The earl of Pembroke, who was dark, thin, and sallow-complexioncd, he called "Joseph the Jew;' the earl of Warwick, who foamed at the mouth when angry, * the wild boar of Ardenne ;' and the earl of Lancaster, from his aflFecting a picturesque style of dress, ' the stage player j" and in like manner he characterized the rest of the party, either from their peculiarities or defects. These insuit.s were not only treasured up against a fearful day of reckoning, bnt had the efffect of stirring up such a storm in the court, as made the throne of his royal master totter under him. The queen, her uncle the earl of Lancaster, and all the baronage of England, made common cause against Gaveston , and Edward, not daring to oppose so potent a combination, sent his favourite to Guienne ; but at parting lavished on him all the jewels of which he was possessed, even to the rings, brooches, buckles, and other trinkets, which the queen had at various times presented to him as tokens of regard.* ' " Thcreforo h« is pU'n«canion of his childhood, he was transported with rage and grief, and declared his intention of inflicting a deadly ven- geance on the perpetrators of the outrage. He sullenly witli- di'ew from London to Canterbury, but finally joined the queen at Windsor, where she was awaithig the birth of their first child.- This auspicious event took place on the 13th day of November, at forty minutes past five in the morning, in the year 1312,"^ when Isabella, then in the eif;,liteenth year of her age and the fifth of her marriage, brought into the world the ' Amonp other frivolous charircs that wore brought against Gaveston by the nsscM'intc barons, he was accused of boiii^ " the son of a witch," and of liavirg obtaiuctl his infhience over tlie mind of his s(nereij;n by the practice of sorcery. His mother hiid been actually biu'nt for sorcery in (iuieiuic. * VVnIsiiighum. ' llymor's Ftrdcra. ^derate ig, and is trial of this tie con- on wai 11, near y corn- sacking d many sr plate IS orna- [sabella, I minute atalogue n of the elentless honour.' )n, there slightest duct to used by e of the \ge and ly vcn- ly with- le queen leir first diiy of ij, in the r of her orld the don Ity tlie of liavii'g of sorcery. f" ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 483 f long-desired heir of England, afterwards that most renowned of our monarchs, Edward III., sumamed of Windsor, from the place of his birth. The gloom in which the king had been plunged ever since the death of Gaveston, yielded to feelings of paternal raptm'e at this joyful event, and he testified his satisfaction by bestow- ing on John Lounges, valet to the queen, and Isabel his wife, twenty pounds, and settled the same on them as an annual pension for hfe.' Scarcely less delighted were Isabella's uncle, the count of Evreux, and the French nobles who were then sojourning in England, at the biith of the royal infant, who was remarkable for his beauty and vigour. They entreated the king to name the young prince Louis, after the heir of France and the count of Evreux ; but the idea was not agree- able to the national feelings of the English in general, and it was insisted by the nobles that he should receive the name of his royal father and his renowned grandfather, I'dward. Four days after his birth he Avas baptized with great pomp in the old chapel of St. Edward, in the eastle of Windsor.^ Isabella's influence, after this hrppy event, was very con- siderable with her royal husband, and at this peiiod her conduct was all that was prudent, amiable, and feminine. It was through her mediation that a reconciliation was at length effected between king Edward and his bai'ons,^ and r> lUquillity restored to the perturbed realm. Before the anniesty was published, queen Isabella visited Aquitaine in company with her royal husband ; from thence they went to Paris, wliere they remained at the court of Philip the Fair nearly two months, enjoying the feasts and pageants which the wealthy and. magnificent coiu^ of France provided for ' Pyne's Eoyal Palacos. ^ The ceremony vvns performed by Arnold, cardinal priest, and the royal babo lir.d no less than seven fj^od/uthers j namely, Ilichard bishop of Poictiers; John bishop of Hath and Wells ; William bishop of Worcester ; Louis count of Evreux, nn''<' to the queen ; John duke of Ih-etaj^ne and earl of Kichmond ; Aymer de Vaic, .e, earl of Pembroke; and Hugh i)es]K'neer; but tliere is not the name of oni godmother recorded. A few days atter his birth, his fond father granted to his dearly -prized heir, his new and blameless favourite, tlie county of Chester, to be held by him and hia heirs for ever; also the county of Flint. — llyui^r's Fa'dera, vol. iii. , ,,. , . . - vv aLsmgliam. ii2 484 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. Ik ■ m their entertainment. Plays Avere represented on tlie occasion, being Mysteries and Moralitie:^ lor amusement and admo- nition, entitled The Glory of the Blessed, and the Torments of the Damned. The king of France, on their return, con- ducted them to Pontoise. A fire broke out in the chamber of the royal guests one night, and both Edward and Isabella escaped with difficulty from the flames in their night dresses : all their property and clothes were destroyed in the confla- gration.' Through the earnest entreaties of the queen, the long- delayed pardon to the insurgent barons was published by king Edward, October 13th, 1313, without any exceptions; and the royal deed of grace expressly certifies, "that this pardon and remission is granted by the king, through the prayers of his dearest companion, Isabella queen of Eng- land."^ The parliament met amicably, and the barons solemnly made their submission on their knees to the sove- reign in Westminster-hall, before all the people.^ Soon after, the earl of Warwick, the most active agent in the death of Gaveston, dying suddenly, it was industiiously circulated by his friends that he had been taken off" by poison. The barons mistrusted the king : the only link that kept them and their sovereign from a fresh rupture was the queen, who at that period conducted herself so prudently as to enjoy the con- fidence of all parties. The year 1314 commenced with a temporary separation between the royal pair, on account of the renewal of the Scottish wars. Stirling, so appropriately designated by the chroniclers of that stormy period Striveling, was besieged by king Robert the Bruce,^ and the English garrison demanded succour of their laggard sovereign. Ed- w. rd at last took the field in person, only to meet with a disgraceful overthrow at Bannockburn, which the national pride of his subjects never could forgive. ' History of Paris, by Dulaure. ^ Rymer's Faidera. ^ Walsingham. * Robert Bruce showed no slight judgment of character, when he thus sjioke of the contrast l>etween tlie first Edward of England and the second Edward : " I am more afraid of the bones of the father dead, than of the living son ; and, by all the saints ! it was more difficult to get half a foot of land from the old king, than a whole kingdom from the son," — Matthew of Westminster. V 11 (I ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 485 ccasion, . admo- nents of 11, con- ihamber Isabella dresses : 1 confla- le long- Lshed by :eptions ; ;hat this >ugh the of Eiig- barons the sove- lon after, death of lated by le barons Hid their at that the con- 1 with a !COunt of •opriately Urivelivg, English rn. Ed- t with a national Vnlsingham. ;lius spoke of Cdward: "I on ; and, by he old king, rn ciot During the absence of king Edward in this disastrous campaign, his quoen was brought to bed of her second son, prince John, at Eltham-palace, an event that appears to have been \cry pleasing to her royal lord, for there is the following entry in his household-book : " To sir Eubulo de Montibus, for bringinfJT tlie first news to the king of the happy delivery of que( I Isabella of her son John of Eltham, 100/." — " The queen sent ill y valet, Goodwin Hawtayne, with letters to the bishop c^' ""orwic and the ear i of Lancaster, requcstin?? them to come t^ n to stand sponsors for her son J-, • ; Hawtayne^s ^ expenses were sixteen shillings, .i i: i djFontenoy, t\ queen^s chapel, received one piece of Turkey ' one of cloth cf gold, for arraying the font in which the lord John, son of the king, was baptized at Eltham, 30tli August. To Stephen Taloise, the queen's tailor, was delivered five pieces of white velvet for the making thereof a certain robe against the churching of the queen, after the birth of her said son." Isabella, as soon as she was able to travel with safety, went to meet her royal consort in the north of England. The household-book of that year records a reward given by king Edward to the queen's messenger who brought the first tidings of her arrival at York, September 27. The queen sent costly presents to the new pope John, of copes em- broidered with large pearls, bought of Katherine Lincoln, and a cope embroidered by Rosia de Burford. To the same pope queen Isabella sent a present, through don John de Jargemoc, her almoner, of an incense-boat, a ewer, and a gold buckle set with divers pearls and precious stones, value 300/. About this time Robert le Messager was tried by jury ai ^ convicted of speaking irreverent or indecent words against the king ; but the queen interested herself to prevent his punishment, by inducing the archbishop of Canterbury to become his surety for future good behaviour.' The birth of the princess Eleanora took place in 1318. The household-book notes the king's gift of 333/. " to the lady Isabella, queen of England, for her churching-feast, after the birth of the lady Eleanora." There are likewise notices of ' Madox, Hist. Exchequer. IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (MT-3) // 4> #^ :/j ^ 1.0 I.I 1.25 III 2.5 12.2 ^ 1^ lllllio 1.4 JiSi 1.6 ^. '/a ^;. c*. c^ 7 Photpgraphic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN jtMIT WIBSTI«,N Y t4SI0 (714) %71M0i ^ 466 ISABELLA OF FRiVNCE. money thrown over the heads of various brides and bride- grooms, as they stood at the altar, — ^the royal pair were pre- sent at their marriages, at Havering-Bower, Woodstock, and Windsor, — and for money given by the orders of the king at the chapel doors. Several other entries afford amusing information, respecting the manners and customs of Edward the Second's court : — Vanne Ballard, for pieces of silk and gold tissue of fustian, and of flame-coloured silk, for the making cushions for the charrettes of the queen and her ladies. To Robert le Termor, (the closer,) boot-maker, of Fleet-street, for six pairs of boot", with tassels of silk and drops of silver gilt, price of each pair five shillings, bought for the king's use. Griffin, the son of sir Griffin of Wales, was selected as one of the companions of the young prince Edward, afterwards Edward III., at Eltham, by order of the king. When the king and queen kept Twelfth-night, their pre- sents were magnificent : to ' the' king of the Bean/ in one instance, Edward gave a silver-gilt ewer, with stand and cover ; and another year, a silver-gilt bowl to match, as New- year's gifts. To Wilham Sal Blaster, valet of the count of Poictiers, for bringing to the king bunches of new grapes at Newborough, 28th of October, 10s. Queen Isabella's chap- lain was entitled to have the queen's oblatory money, of the value of seven-pence, redeemed eiicli day of the year, except on the Assumption of the Virgin, when the queen offered gold. To Dulcia Withstaff, mother of Robert the king's fool, coming to the king at Bnldock, at Christmas, lOs. To William de Opere, valet of the king of France, for bringing the king a box of rose-coloured sugar at York, on the part of the sjiid king, his gift, September 28th, 2/. lOs. To the lady Mary, the king's sister, a nun at Ambresbury, the price of fifteen pieces of tapestry, with divers coats of arras, bought of Richard Horsham, mercer of London, and given to the lady Mary on her departure from court home to Ambresbuiy, 20/. To sir Nicholas dc Becke, sir Humphrey de Luttlcbury, and air Thomas de Latimer, for drugging the king out of bed on £aster morning, 20/.* ' Modoz. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 487 . Edward II., in 1316, bestowed a considerable benefaction on Theophania de St. Pierre, bis queen's nurse : besides fifty pounds sterling money, he gives this person, whom he calls lady of Bringuencourt, lands in Ponthieu, where queen Isabella was dowered.' In the household-books of Thomas Lancaster, Stowe found that 92/. had been presented by that prince to his royal niece's niu'ses and French servants. Isabella obtained from the king her husband a grant of the escuage be- longing to him for the army of Scotland due from the knights* fees, which the queen held by grant for the term of her life. The disastrous Scotch campaign was followed by the most dreadfid famine ever known in England, which lasted for nearly three yeai*s.* The king and queen kept their court at Westminster during the Whitsuntide festival of 1317; and on one occasion, as they were dining in public in the great ban- queting-hall, a woman in a mask entered on horseback, and riding up to the royal table, delivered a letter to king Ed- wai'd, who, imagining that it contained some pleasant conceit or elegant compliment, ordered it to be opened and read aloud for the amusement of his courtiers ; but, to his great mortifi- cation, it was a cutting satire on his unkingly propensities, setting forth in no measured terms all the calamities which his misgovernmcnt had brought upon England. The woman was immediately taken into custody, and confessed that she had been employed by a certain knight. The knight boldly acknowledged Avhat he had done, and said, " That sui)posing the king would read the letter in private, he took that method of apprizing him of the complaints of his subjects. ''^ The following year Robert linice laid siege to Ber>vick. ' Kymcr's Fanlcra, vol. iii. * Kinjf Edward ciidoavourt'd t<) lowor the ononiKuw price of ])r()viRions by vnrioiiH Ktiitulcs, but williout effirt, uh tlie jmhlic misery wiw not oiuisfd liy mono, poly, Imt by di-nrth, wliicli wim folt t'v«n in lii« own jmliicc ; for on St. LnwnMic«''n. eve, i;Ut, it wan with dilVuulty that hrnid could be procured for the sustentation oi the royal family. — Walsin^ham. l)c la Mintr. ' The un]K)iiularity ol the king at this jwriod temjitcd an imjHJstor of the nnmo of John DeydruN, a tanner's son, to pretend that he was the true wm of Edward I., who hiiD.— 'Wtd- ■inghum. 488 ISABELLA OF FRANCIT. Queen Isabella accompanied her lord into the north, and while he advanced to Berwick, she, with her young family, took up her abode at Brotherton, the former residence of her late aunt, queen Marguerite. This was a place of apparent security, as it was nearly a hundred miles from the scene of war ; yet she was exposed to a very great peril while residing there, in the year 1319, during the absence of the king, in consequence of a daring attempt of earl Douglas to surprise her in her retreat, and carry her off into Scotland. The monk of Malmesbury gives the following account of this adventure : " Douglas marched into England at the head of 10,000 men with great secrecy, and nearly arrived at the village where queen Isabella and her children resided, when one of his scouts fell into the hands of the archbishop of York, the king's councillor, who threatening him with torture, the man promised him, if they would spare him, to confess the great danger their queen was in. The ministers laughed his intel- ligence to scorn, till he staked his life that, if they sent scouts in the direction he pointed out, they would find Douglas and his host within a few hours' march of the queen's retreat. Alarmed by the proofs given by the man, they collected all their retinue, and all the men-at-arms York could furnish, and marched on a sudden to the queen's residence with the tidings of her great danger : they removed her t- York, and afterwards, for the greater security, she was tak' Notting- ham." It was affirmed that Bruce had bribed Lancaster to contrive this diversion from the siege of Berwick. The local histories of Peterborough record, that Edward and Isabella put an end to a furious dispute between the abbot and the town, as to who should be at the cost of repairing the broken bridge, by sending word that they and their son, prince Jolm, intended to take up their lodgings at the abbey. This intimation caused the abbot to repair it in a hurry, for the passage of the royal pair and their retinue. The queen was presented with twenty pounds by the town, and cost the abbot, in presents and entertainments, more than four hundred pounds. On another occasion she quartered her eldest son Edward, and the two princesses her daughters, with their attendants, t)n the ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 489 dward ! abbot miring ir son, abbey. jry, for len was abbot, founds, rd, and )n the abbot for eight weeks, which entailed an enormous expense on the community. In 1321 the storm gathered among the lords- marchers, which led to fresh civil wars, and brought Isabella and Roger Mortimer into personal acquaintance ;' after which Isabella exchanged the lovely character of a peace-maker for that of a vindictive political agitator, and finally branded her once-honoured name with the foul stains of adultery, treason, and murder. On the 13th of October, 1321, the Queen set out on a pilgrimage to the shrine of St. Thomas-k-Becket at Canter- bury, and proposing to pass the night at her own castle of Leeds, of which Bai'tholomew Badlesmere, one of the ' asso- ciated barons,' was castellan, she sent her marshal and pur- veyors before her to announce her intention, and to order proper arrangements to be made for her reception."^ Badles- mere was absent at that time, and being deeply involved in the treasonable designs of the earl of Lancaster, had charged his lady to maintain the castle, though it was a royal demesne, being one of the dower-palaces of the queens of England. Lady Badlesmere, feeling some mistrust of the real object of Isabella in demanding admittance for herself and train, replied with great insolence to the royal messengers, " that the queen might seek some other lodging, for she would not admit any one within the castle without an order from her lord." "While ' King Edward had married his now favourite, tlio young Despencer, to his great-niece Eleanor, one of the co-lieiresses of his nephew Uilhert de Clare, earl of Gloucester, who had been the most potent among the lord-marchers of Wales, and a sort of lord-paramount over them all. The warlike Mortimers, during the long minorities of the two last earls of Gloucester, hiwl taken the lead among the marchers ; and now the king's favourite, in right of his wife, assumed a sort of supremacy on the Welsh Iwrders, and prevailed on the king to resume the grants of some of his late nephew's castles which he hud given to the Mortimers. Those fierce chiefs Hew to arms with tlieir mm .hmen, and in the course of a few nights harried lady Desjjencer's inheritance with so hearty a good will, that they did many thousand jHrnnds' worth of mischief. The leaders of this exploit were lord Roger Mortimer of Chirk, and his nephew and heir, lord Roger Mortimer of Wigmore, who had heen the ward and i)ui)il of (Juveston. I'he uniform of Mortimer's forces wlien they marched t<) Londoi: (when nmstering against the DesiHjncers) was green, with the right arm yellow. Tl»e revolt ended in the surrender of the Mortimers, and tlieir conunittal to the Tower. Tlio extraoi-di- nary influence the yoimger Mortimer ex«!rcis»>d over the destiny of the queen, requires these few words of explanation as to the origin of this rebellion. ^ Walsinghum. De la Moor. '- • • • ^ 490 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. I si the dispute was proceeding between the lady Badlesmere and the harbingers, the queen and her train arrived at the castle- gates and were received with a volley of arrows, which slew six of the royal escort, and compelled the queen to retreat with precipitation, and to seek other shelter for the night.' The queen complained bitterly to the king of the affront she had received, and entreated him to avenge the murder of her servants, and the insolence of lady Badlesmere in pre- suming to exclude her from her own castle.'' Badlesmere had the folly to write the most insulting letter to tho queen, in reply to the complaints that had been addressed to . ..m of his wife^s conduct, expressing his entire approval of what she had done. This conduct was aggravated by the fact, that Badles- mere had very lately been one of the principal officers of the palace, and held the high station of steward to the royal liousehold before Edward gave him the appointment as cas- tellan of Leeds. The whole transaction implies some previous personal quarrel with the queen. Hitherto Isabella had been on the most amicable terms with the barons, but as neither Lancaster nor any of the associates thought proper to express any reprobation of the disrespect with which she had been ti'eated by their confederiite, she determined to be revenged on all; and accordingly represented to the king, that if he raised an army for the purpose of besieging Leeds-castle, he would eventually be enabled to use it for the extension of his kingly power.' The king would willingly have temporized, but the haughty spirit of Isabella would not permit him to delay becoming the minister of her vengeance. Edward published his manifesto, setting forth the contempt with which "his beloved consort Isabella queen of England had been treated by tlie family of Bartholomew Badlesmere, who had insolently opposed her in licr desire of entering Leeds-castle, and that the said Bartholomew Badlesmere had by his letters approved of this misconduct of his family in thus obstructing,' ftnd contumeliously treating the queen j for which cause, a • Walsinplmm. De la Moor. ' LwMU-ciistlc was a part of the Hplundid dower Bettlcd l)y Edward I. on (juirn Marguerite^ Iiuibulla'g auat, to which queen liuibelb hud succcudud. — Kj^mei'i Fcodura. ' llupia. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 491 !re and castle- jli slew retreat I affront irder of in pre- lere bad ^ueen, in (11 of his she had [, Badles- rs of the ;he royal cA as cas- » previous had been IS neither to express bad been revenged ;hat if be ■castle, be don of bis emporized, .rniit him Edward with which bad been who bad eeds-castlc, bis letters obstructing' }b cause, a n\ 1. on queen dcd.— Uy>"i:i''» general muster of all persons between the ages of sixteen and sixty was called to attend the king in an expedition against Leeds-castle/'* A large force, of which the Londoners formed & consi- derable portion, was quickly levied, for the queen was the darling of the nation, and all were eager to avenge even the shadow of a wrong that was offered to her. The lady Badles- mere, who was undoubtedly a notable virago, treated the royal threats with contempt, and with her seneschal, Walter Colepepper, defied both the king and his army when they appeared beneath the walls of Leeds-castle, which was well stored with provisions, and she confidently relied on receiving prompt relief from the associate barons. In this, however, she was disappointed, for the eai'l of Lancaster had no inten- tion to come to a rupture with the queen, his niece, so the castle was compelled to surrender at discretion on the last day of October. Immediate vengeance was taken by the king, for the assault on the queen and her servants, on the seneschal Walter Colepepper, who, with eleven of the garrison, were hanged before the castle-gates.'^ Lady Badlesmere was committed to the Tower of London as a state-prisoner, and was threatened with the same fate that had been inflicted on her agents; but it does not appear that she suftered any worse punishment than a long and rigorous imprisonment." With all their faults, there is no instance of any monarch of the Plantagenet line putting a lady to death for high treason. Flushed with his success at Leeds, king Edward recalled his banished favourites, the two Despencei's, whose counsels quite accorded with the previous persuasions of the queen to use the military force he had levied for the reduction of Leeds-castle, for the purpose of repressing the power of the associate barons.* Isabella was so deeply offended with the barons, as the allies of the Badlesmeres, that she not only refused to employ her influence in composing the ditt'erences between them and the king, but did every tiling in her power ' Rymer'a Foxlern, vol. lii. ' Walsingham. Kapin. ' IJiiylcy's HiHtory of the Tower, * WiUiiinghain. Kapiii. 492 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. to influence the mind of her lord against them. Lancaster was taken at the battle of Boroughbridge, where the sovereign fought in person against the associate barons, March 16th, 1322. He and ninety-five of his adherents, were conducted as prisoners to Pontefract-castle, where the king sat in judg- ment upon him, with a small jury of peers, by whom he was sentenced to lose his head. The queen, who for greater security had retired to the Tower to await her accouchement, was not aware of her uncle's sentence till after his execution, which took place only a few hours after his doom was pronounced.' It was at this agitating period that Isabella gave birth to her youngest child, the princess Joanna, who was called, from the place of her nativity, Joanna de la Tour.'' Some time before the birth of this infant, the two Mortimers, uncle and nephew, having been taken in arms against the king, were brought to the Tower as state-prisoners, under sentence of death and confiscation of their great estates.^ Hoger Morti- mer, lord of Chirk, the uncle, died of famine, through the neglect or cruelty of his gaolers in failing to supply him with the necessaries of life, it has been said, soon after his cap- ture. Roger Mortimer, the nephew, was in the pride and vigour of manhood, and possessed of strength of constitution and energy of mind to struggle with any hardship to which he might be exposed. The manner in which he contrived, while under sentence of death in one of the prison lodgings of the Tower of London, to create so powerful an interest in the heart of the beautiful consort of his ofi'ended sovereign, is not related by any of the chroniclers of that reign. It is possible, however, that Isabella's disposition for intermeddling in political matters, might have emboldened this handsome and audacious rebel to obtain personal interviews with her, under the colour of being willing to communicate to her the * Bartliolomew BadlcHmere, the primary cause of the war, was taken at Stowe- Park, the seat of his nephew, the bishop of Lincoln, and ignominiously hanged at Canterbury. ' De la Moor. Walsingham. Bayley's History of the Tower. Brayley and Brittoil's ditto. * Walsingham, &c. De la Moor. The ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 496 icaster ereign L 16th, ducted jiidg- om he greater lement, jcution, nn was 3irth to 3d, from ne time icle and ig, were itence of r Morti- 3ugh the lira with his cap- dAe and Lstitution to which ontrived, odgings terest in overeign. It is cneddhng landsome with her, D her the jn at Stowe- bunged at Kra yley and secrets of his party. He was the husband of a French lady, Jane de Joinville, the heiress of sir Peter Joinville, and was in all probability only too well acquainted with the language that was most pleasing to the ear of the queen and the manners and refinements of her native land, which in civi- lization was greatly in advance of the beUicose realm of England. Be this as it may, Mortimer was reprieved through the good offices of some powerftd intercessor, and the king commuted his sentence of death into perpetual imprisonment in the Tower. This occasioned some astonishment, when it was remembered that Mortimer was the first who had com- menced the civil war by his fierce attack on the lands of Hugh Despencer, who was his sworn foe, and who at this very time had regained more than his former sway in the councils of king Edward ; but at that period the influence of the queen with her royal husband was paramount to any other, and it was probably on this account that the deadly feud commenced between her and the two Despencers, which ended so fatally for both.^ The following precept was addressed by king Edward to his treasurer and the barons of the Exchequer, for the supply of his own and the queen's wardrobe : — " Edward, by tbc grace of God, &c. &c. " We command that ye provide sixteen pieces of cloth for the apparelling of ourselves and our dear companion, also furs, against the next feast of Christmas, and thirteen pieces of cloth for corsets for our sr'd companion and her damsels, with naping linen^ and other things of which we stand in need again ' the said feast : requiring you to assign to William Cassonces, the clerk of our ., t drobe, one hundred and fifteen pounds, in such manner as may obtain prompt payment of the same for this purpose. " Given at Langley, the 10th day of December, and of our reign the 15th."' The king and Isabella spent their Christmas together, and it is probable that she availed herself of that opportunity of obtaining, not only so unconscionable an allowance of cloth for her corsets, but a reprieve from death for Mortimer. In the succeeding year, 1323, we find the tameless border chief, from his dungeon in the Tower, organizing a plan for the seizure, not only of that royal fortress, but Windsor and Wallingford. Again was Moi'timer condemned to suflFer death ' Walsingham. De la Moor, llapin. " Table-linen. ' Rot. Edw. II. 47. 494 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. for high treason, but through the agency of Adam Orleton, and Beck bishop of Durham, he obtained a respite.' On the 1st of August, the same year, Gerard Alspaye, the valet of Segrave the constable of the Tower, who was supposed to be in co-operation with him, gave the men-at-arms a soporific potion in their drink provided by the queen ; and while the guards were asleep, Mortimer passed through a hole he had worked in his own prison into the kitchen of the royal resi- dence, ascended the chimney, got on the roof of the palace, and from thence to the Thames^ side by a ladder of ropes. Segrave's valet then took a sculler and rowed him over to the opposite bank of the river, where they found a party of seven horsemen, Mortimer's vassals, waiting to receive him. With this guard he made his way to the coast of Hampshire ; from thence, pretending to sail to the Isle of Wight, the boat in reality conveyed the fugitives on board a large ship, pro- vided by Ralf Botton, a London merchant, which was anchored off the Needles : this ship landed them safely in Normandy, whence they proceeded to Paris.'^ Edward was in Lancashire when he heard of the escape of Mortimer: he roused all England with a hue and cry after him, but does not seem to have had the least idea of his destination, as he sought him chiefly in the Mortimers' hereditary demesnes, — the marches of Wales. Meantime, the queen commenced her deep-laid schemes for the ruin of Mortimer's enemies, the Despencers, whom she taught the people to regard as the cause of the sanguinary executions of Lancaster and his adherents, though her own impatient desire of avenging the affronts she had received from lady Badlesmere had been the means of exasperating the sovereign against that party. Now she protested against all the punishments that had been inflicted, and was the first * Leland's Collectanea. ' Rymer. Bayley's History of the Tower. " Mortimer," says the chronicle quoted by Drayton, " being in the Tower, ordered a feast for his birthday; and inviting there sir Stephen Segrave constable of the Tower, with the rest of the officers belonging to the same, gave them a sleepy drink provided him by the queen, by which means he got liberty for his escape : he swam the Thames to the opjwsite shore, the queen doubting much of his strength for such an exploit^ 08 he had been long in coniinement." mise\ was byh on G ad vis sessic resun the allow phe ir ^\t st Th ir ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 495 ■leton, )n the ilet of Ltobe )porific ile the he had al resi- palace, f ropes, over to party of ive him. aipshire ; the boat ship, pro- anchored onnandy, jancashire •oused all t seem to mght him e marches schemes ers, whom Sanguinary _ her own Id received lasperating Iced against IS the first J the chronicle fbirthday; and Ihe rest of the led him hy the |he Thames to ach an exploit, who pretended to regard Lancaster as a martyr and a saint, llie two Despencers had succeeded in obtaining the same sort of ascendancy over the mind of the king that had been once enjoyed by Gaveston; they were his principal ministers of state, and they had ventured to curtail the revenues of the queen. This imprudent step afforded her a plausible excuse for declaring open hostilities against them. No one had ever offended her without paying a deadly penalty. She percei\^d that she had lost her influence with her royal husband during his absence in the civil war in the north, and though it is evident that an illicit passion on her part had preceded the alienation of the king's regard for her, she did not complain the less loudly of her wrongs on that account ; neither did she scruple to brand the Despencers with all the accusations she had formerly hurled at Gaveston, charging them with having deprived her of the love of her royal husband.^ A fierce struggle for supremacy between her and the Despencers, dm'ing the year 1324, ended in the discharge of all her French servants, and the substitution of an inadequate pension for herself, instead of the royal demesnes which had been settled on her by the king.' Isabella wrote her indignant complaints of this treatment to her brother, Charles le Bel, who had just succeeded to the throne of France, declaring, " that she was held in no higher consideration than a servant in the palace of the king her husband," whom she styled a gripple miser i^ a character which the thoughtless and prodigal Edward was very far from deserving. The king of France, exasperated by his sister's representation;^ of her wrongs, made an attack on Guienne, which afforded an excuse to the Despencers for advising king Edward to deprive the queen of her last pos- session in England, — ^the earldom of Cornwall. The king resumed this grant in a peculiarly disobliging manner, giving the queen to understand " that he did not consider it safe to allow any portion of his territories to remain in her hands, as she maintained a secret correspondence with the enemies of tlie state."* The feuds between the royal pair proceeded to such a * Walwinpham, De la Moor. ' Walsingham. Rapin. Speed, ' De la Moor. Speed, * Wawuighun. Bapln. 496 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. ! I 4'i height, that Isabella denied her company to her lord/ and he refused to come where she was.' The queen passionately charged this estrangement on the Despencers, and reiterated her complaints to her brother. King Charles testified his in- dignant sense of his sister's treatment, by declaring his inten- tion of seizing all the provinces held by king Edward of the French crown, he having repeatedly summoned him in vain to perform the accustomed homage for them. Edward was not prepared to engage in a war for their defence, and neither he nor his ministers liked the alternative of a personal visit to the court of the incensed brother of queen Isabella, after the indignities that had been offered to her.^ In this dilemma, Isabella herself obligingly volunteered to act as mediatrix between the two monarchs, provided she might be permitted to go to Paris to negotiate a pacification. Edward, who had so often been extricated from his political difl&culties by the diplomatic talents of his fair consort, was only too happy to avail himself of her proposal.* It has been asserted by many historians, that queen Isa- bella privately withdrew to France with her son, the prince of Wales, to claim the protection of her brother, Charles le Bel, against the king her husband, and his ministers the De- spencers; but a careful reference to those authorities which may be called the fountain-heads of history, — the Record rolls of that reign, will satisfactorily prove that she was sent as an accredited envoy from the deluded Edward, to negotiate this treaty with her royal brother. Froissart, who purposely veils the blackest traits of Isabella's character, her profound hypo- crisy and treachery, represents her as flying from the barbarous persecutions of her husband and the Despencers, like some distressed queen of romance, and engaging, by her beauty and eloquence, all the chivalric spirits of France and Hainault to arm for the redress of her wrongs. He has succeeded in giving just such a coloiu" to her proceedings as would be least offen- sive to her son Edward III., with whom, for obvious reasons, the whole business must have been a peculiarly sore subject.* ' De la Moor. ' Froissart. ^ Carte. Rapin. "• Ibid. * It is to be remembered that Froispirt, who, though a contemporary, was too young, at the time these events took place, to speak from his own knowledge, f* ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 497 1/ and jnately terated his in- a inten- l of the in vain ard was 1 neither I visit to after the dilemma, mediatrix permitted who had es by the happy to jueen Isa- the prince Charles le rs the De- ties which .ecord rolls sent as an ;otiate this losely veils >und hypo- barbarous like some [beauty and ainault to id in giving least offen- »us reasons, )re subject.* * Ibid. Iporary, was too Iwn knowledge, The propriety of the queen undertaking the mission to the court of France was debated, first in the council, and after- wards in the parliament which met January 21 st,' 1*^25, to consider the afiairs of Guienne, when it was agreed that any expedient was better than pursuing the war.^ A hollow reconciliation was effected between Isabella and the Despen- cers, who were delighted at the prospect of her departure from England, and she piirted from her husband, apparently on terms of confidence and good- will. Isabella sailed for France in the beginning of May, attended by the lord John Cromwell and four knights. She landed at Calais and pro- ceeded to Paris, where th'i first fruit of her mediation was a truce between her brother and the king her husband. She then negotiated an amicable treaty, proposing the sur- render of Guienne, already forfeited by the neglect of the feudal homage to the king of France, which was to be re- stored, at her personal instances, by her brother to the king of England, on condition of his performing the accustomed homage, and remunerating the king of France for the expenses of the war. This was to take place at a friendly interview between the two monarchs at Beauvais.^ The Despencers, anticipating with alarm the great proba- bility of the queen regaining hef wonted ascendancy over the mind of her royal husband, dissuaded him from crossing to the shores of France, even when his preparations for the voyage were completed. Isabella, who was well informed of these demurs, and perfectly understood the vacillating cha- racter of her husband, proposed to him that he should invest their son, the prince of Wales, with the duchy of Guienne and the earldom of Ponthieu, and send him as his substitute to perform the homage for those countries to the king her brother, — king Charles having signified his assent to such an arrangement, in compliance with her solicitations. King has followed what he calls the " true chronicle" of John le Bel, canon of St. Lambert of Liege, who was the favourite counsellor and confessor of John of Hainault, the sworn champion of queen Isabella, of whose iniquities the sly eccle- siastic is a subtle palliator, and has evidently done his best to mystify such parts of her conduct as were indefensible. * VValsingham. Public Act. ' Ibid. * Rymer's Foedera. VOL. I. K K u 49a ISABELLA or FRANCE. Edward, far from suspecting the guileful intentions of his consort, eagerly comphed with this proposal; and the De- spencers, not being possessed of sufficient penetration to under- stand the motives which prompted the queen to get the heir of England into her own power, fell into the snare. On the 12th of September, 1325, prince Edward, attended by the bishops of Oxford, Exeter, and a splendid train of nobles and knights, sailed from Dover ;^ landing at Boulogne, he was joined by the queen his mother on the 14th, who accompanied him to Paris, where his first interview with the king his uncle took place in her presence, and he performed the act of feudal liomage on the 21st at the Bois de Yincennes.^ ' Rymer's Foedera. * " Act made at the wooeril of her life, as she a])prehends, fron> Iln>^!i le Despencer. Gortcs, dearest brother, it cannot be that she can have fear of \\\m, or any other man in 'Mr realm; since, /»«>• Dieii ! if either Hujfh or any other living beinjj in our dominions wotdd wish to do lier ill, and it came to our knowledge, we would chiwtise him in a miinner that should be an example to all others; and this is, and always will be, our entire will, as long as, by (IchI's mercy, we have the power. And, dearest brother, know certainly that we have never jn'rceived that * I)e la Moor. Walsinglmni. ' Ibid. * MS. liivesofthe Lord Treasurers, by Francis Thynne, es l_ I.' I „ ..„! - from tlic Clotic Uolls, I'Jtb Ed'.v. IT 8 Kyraer'8 Fojdcra, vol. I. p. 182. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 503 j^ especial as always ler evil or idventure, u secretly id, doubt- 8, and for ! our com- de to our of amity, , God fore- I and con- can, that II the haste le king of nduct, you ) her lord.' i as a wife aught that us. Also, iible speed, he same Exeter, Dher, the me (lay, 38, dated which Mfc u answered jbey any of ;e has been pleased to with your then conio speak with blessing. )st inter- national cd from le prince It " Edwaed, faie Son, " We understand by your letters written in reply to ours, that you remember well the charge we gave you ; among other thhigs, not to contract marriage, nor to suffer it to be contracted tor you, without our knowledge and consent ; and also that at your departure from Dover j ou said, * that it should be yom- pleasure to obey our commandments, as far as you could, all your days.' " Fair son, if thus you have done, you have done wisely and well, and according to your duty, so as to have grace of God of us and all men ; and if not, then you cannot avoid the >vrath of God, the reproach of men, and our great indignation, for wo charged you so lately and so strictly that you should remember well these things, and that you should by no means marry, nor suffer yourself to be married, without our previous consent and advice ; for no other thing that you could d< would occajtion greater injury and pain of heart to us. And inasmuch aa it seenia you say ' you cannot return to us because of your mother,' it causes us great uneasiness of heart that you cannot be allowed by her to do that which is yoOT natural duty, the neglect of which will lead to much mischief. " Fair son, you know how dearly she would have been loved and cherished, if she had timely come according to her duty to her lord. We have knowledge of much of her evil doings, to our sorrow ; how that she devises pretences lor absenting herself from us, on account of our dear and faithful nephew,' H, le Despencer, who has always so well and loyally served, us, while you and all the world have seen that she openly, notoriously, and knowing it to be contrary to her duty, and against the wellare of our crown, has attracted to herself, and retains in her company, the Mortimer, our traitor and mortal foe, proved, attainted, and adjudged ; and him she accompanies in the house and abroad in despite of us, of our crown, and the right ordering of the realm — him, the male- factor,'' whom our beloved brother the king of France at our request banished fi"om his dominions as our enemy ! And worse than this she has done, if worse than this can be, in allowing you to consort with our said enemy, making him your counsellor, and you openly to herd and associate with him in the sight of all the world, domg so great a villany and dishonour both to yourself and us, to the prejudice of our crown, and of the laws and customs of our realm, which you are supremely bound to hold, preserve, and maintain. " Wherefore, fair son, desist you from a part which is so shameful, and may be to you perilous and iryurious in too many ways. We are not pleased with you, and neither for your mother, nor for any other, ought you to displease us. We charge you by the faith, love, and allegiance which you owe us, and on our blessing, that you come to us without opposition, delay, or any further excuse ; for your mother has written to us, ' that if you wish to return to us she will not prevent it,' and we do not understand that your undo the king detains you against the form of your safe-conduct. In no manner, then, either for your mother or to go to the duchy, nor for any other cause, delay to come to us. Our commands are for your pood, and for your honour, by the help of God Come quickly, then, without further excuse, 'if you would have our blessing, and avoid our reproach and indignation. " It is our wish to ordor all things for the good of the duchy, and our other dominions, for our mutual honour and benefit. If John of Hretagne, and John du Cromwell, will come in your company, they will do their duty. " Fair son, tresj)ii.sa not against our commands, for we hear much that you have done of things you ought not. "Given at Lichtlcld, the 18th day of March."' • King Edward In-stows this appi'llation on the favourite, because he was th» liusband of iiis great-niece the iieiress of Ctioucestcr. ' Malveya is the word used in the original French by the bicensed king. • Uymer'g Fanlera; from the Claw llolls of the lUth year of Edward II. 504 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. I From the tenour of this letter, it is evident that Edward II. had been informed of his queen's clandestine and certainly- most unconstitutional proceedings with regard to contracting their son, the youthftd heir of England, in marriage, without his knowledge or the consent of parliament. This was the more annoying to the king, because he was himself negotiating a matrimonial alliance between the prince of Wales and the infanta Eleanora of Arragon, long before the departure of the queen to the court of France. Matters were indeed so far advanced, that application had been made to the pope for a dispensation,' when the whole scheme was traversed by her plighting the prince to the daughter of the count of Hainault. It seems that the bride's portion, which was paid in advance, was required by Isabella to support herself against her un- happy lord, to whom, however, she continued to hold out unmeaning professions of her dutifiil inclinations, as we per- ceive fi'om his reply to one of the letters addressed to him by her brother, the king of France : — " Dearest Brother, " We have considered well your letters, in which you signify that you have spoken with good diligence to your sister, touching the things on whicli we have replied to you, and that she has told you, ' that it is her desire to be with us, and in our company, as a good wife ought to be in that of her lord ; and that the friendship between her and our dear and faithful nephew H. le Despencer was but fe'gned on her part, because she saw it was expedient for her support in past time, and to secure herself from worse treatment.' Certes, dearest brother, if she loved us, she would desire to be in our company, as she lias said. She who ouglit to be the mediatress between us of entire and lasting peac^e, should not be the cause of stirring up fresh strife, as slie lias done, when she was sent to nourish peace and love between you and us, which we intend»jd in all good faith when we sent her to you ; but the thouglit of her heiirt was to devise that pretence for witlidrawing from us. We liave already shown you that what she has told you is, saving your reverence, not the trutli, for never (so much as she has done against us) iuis she received either evil or villany from us, or from any other. Neither has she had any occasion 'for feints to 8up}X)rt herself in times passed, nor to escajjc from worse,'- for never in the slightest instance has evil been done to her by him;-'' and since she has departed from us and come to you, what has compelled her to send to our dear and trusty nephew, H. le Despencer, letters of such great and espei'ial amity as she ha« been jileastid to do from time to time ? " But truly, dearest brother, it must be as apparent to you as to us, and to all ' See Kymer's Fanlera, vol. iv. ' These sentences, marked by commu:*, are evidently quotations from Isabella's representations. ^ Hugh le Despencer. Yet the deprivation of tlio queen's revenue was a serious ii\jury ; its restoration must have taken place directly, or the queen would have urged it at this time an a matter of complaint. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 505 ard II. ;rtainly Tacting without vas the Dtiating and the 3 of the I so far pe for a by her iainault. idvance, her un- told out we per- ) him by ,t you have ell we have be with U8, and that Despencer support in jst brother, She who ould not be to nourish 1 when we irctence for las told you has done any other, mes pnsHcd, been done 1, what has ■r, letters of e to time ? 1, and to all m Isabella's cnue was a ueen would men, that she does not love us as she ought to love her lord; and the cause why she has spoken falsehoods of our nephew, and withdrawn herself from us, pro- ceeds, according to my thoughts, from a disordered will, when she so openly, notoriously, and knowingly, against her duty," &c. &c. Here king Edward passionately repeats the same observa- tions respecting Isabella's shameless intimacy with IMortimcr, of which he had made use in the preceding letter to the prince his son, and then proceeds, — " If you wished her well, dearest brother, you would chastise her for this mis- conduct, and make her demean herself as she ought, for the honour of all those to whom she belongs. Then our son, dearest brother, is made also by his mother, your sister, the companion of our said traitor and foe, who is his counsellor in delaying his return, in our despite." Some requests touching Guienne follow, and after repeating his entreaties for his son to be restored to him, king Edward I concludes in the following words : — " And that you will be pleased to do these things, dearest brother, for the sake of God, reason, good faith, and natural fraternity, without paying regard to the light pleasaunce of a woman, is our desire. " Given at Lichfield, the 18th of March." After this letter, Charles le Bel is said to have looked very coolly on his sister, and even to have urged her to return, with her son, to the royal husband. Isabella had other intentions, having gone too far, she felt, to recede, without incurring in reality the perils which she had before pretended to dread. Her party in England had now, through the maUgnant activity of her especial agent, Adam Orleton, bishop of Hereford, become so strong, that about this time she received a deputation from the confederate barons, assuring her " that if she could only raise a thousand men, and would come with the prince to England at the head of that force, they would place him on the throne to govern under her guidance."' Already by her persuasions and fair promises she had secured the assistance of many young nobles and military adventurers, who were ready to engage in her cause.' The Dcspencers had information of her proceedings, and, if we may trust the assertions of Froissart, they circumvented her by the skilful distribution of counter bribes among the ministers of the king of France, and e\en addressed their * Walsingham. l)e la Moor. Froissart. * Froissart. 606 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. golden arguments to king Charles himself so successfiilly, that he withdrew his countenance from his royal sister, and forbade any person, under pain of punishment, to aid or assist her in her projected invasion of England.' Less partial historians, however, attribute this change in king Charles's poUtics to the scandal which his sister's conduct with regard to Mortimer excited in his court. The remonstrances contained in the following letter from king Edward had also, perhaps, some eflfect : — " Most deab and beloved Brotheb, " We would wish you to remember that we have, at different times, signified to you by our letters how improperly your sister oiu* wife has conducted herself in withdrawing from us and refusing to return at our command, while she so notoriously has attached to her company and consorts with our traitor and mortal enemy the Mortimer, and our other enemies there, and also makes Edward, our son and heir, an adherent of the same our enemy, to our great shame, and that of every one of her blood ; and if you wish her well, you ought, both for your own honour and ours, to have these things duly redressed." After reiterating his earnest entreaties for the restoration of the prince, his son, " who is,'' he observes, " of too tender an age to guide and govern himself, and therefore ought to be under his paternal care," king Edward implores him to put his son in possession of the duchy for which he had per- formed the homage as stipulated, and that without dwelling too particularly on the wording of the covenant, (which had evidently been designedly mystified by the contrivance of Isabella) ; he adds, — " But these things are as nothing : it is the herding of our said wife and son with our tmitors and mortal enemies that notoriously continues ; insomuch, that the said traitor, the Mortimer, was carried in the train of our said son publicly to Paris at the solemnity of the coronation of our very dear sister your wife, the queen of France, at the Pentecost just parsed, to oiu- great shame, and in despite of us. " Wherefore, dearest brother, we pray yon, as earnestly as we can, by the rights and blessings of peace, and the entir* friendship that subsists between us, that you will of your benevolence effectually attend to our supreme desire that we be not thus dishonoured, and our son disinherited, which we cannot supjwse you wish. " Dearest brother, you ought to feel for us, and so should all men of our estate, for much we are, and nmch we have been, grieved at the shameful despites and great injury which wo have so long endured. Nay, verily, brother-in-law, but we cannot bear it longer. The Holy Spirit have charge of you." ' * Froissart. ' Rymcr's Foedera ; from the Close iiolls of the 19th year of Edwurd IL \\\y, that forbade it her in storians, pohtics 3gard to •ontained perhaps, les, signified ictcd herself while she so ; and mortal Edward, our me, and that )oth for your :oration of tender an ight to be dm to put 1 had per- t dwellmg which had ;rivance of wife and son nsoinuch, that d son publicly your wife, the and in despite re can, hy the ts between us, ,ne desire that annot supiwse all men of our \meful dcspites brother-in-law, u."» iuwuru II. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 507 In liie month of June, 1326, king Edward made a last fruitless attempt to prevail on the prince, his son, to withdraw himself from the evil counsels and companions of the queen, his mother, and to return to him. Tliis letter, like the pre- ceding correspondence, affords indubitable evidence how accu- rately the unfortunate husband of Isabella was informed of her proceedings with regard to Mortimer:— "Edward, pair Son, " We have seen by your letters lately written to us, that you well remember the charges we enjoined you on your departure from Dover, and that you have not transgressed our commands in any point that was in your power to avoid. But to us it appears that you have not humbly obeyed our commands as a good son ought his father, since you have not returned to us to be under government, &s we have enjoined you by our other letters, on our blessing; but have noto- riously held companionship, and your mother also, with Mortimer, our traitor and mortal enemy, who, in company with your mother and others, was publicly carried to Paris in your train to the solemnity of the coronation, at Pentecost just past, in signal despite of us, and to the great dishonour buth of us and you : for truly he is neither a meet companion for your mother nor for you, and we hold that much evil to the country will come of it. " Also we understand that you, through counsel which is contrary both to our interest and yours, have proceeded to make divers alterations, injunctions, and ordinances without our advice, and contrary to our orders, in the duchy of Guicnne, which we have given you j but you ought to remember the conditions of the gift, and your reply when it was conferred upon you at Dover. These things are inconvenient, and must be most injurious. Therefore we command and charge you, on the faith and love you ought to bear us, and on om* blessing, that you show yourself our dear and well-beloved son as you have aforetime done ; and, ceasing from all excuses of your mother, or any like those that you have just written, you come to us here with all haste, that we may ordain for you and your state as honourably as you can desire. By right and reason you ought to have no other governor than us, neither should you wish to have. " Also, fair son, we cliarge you by no meaas to marry till you return to us, nor without our advice and consent ; nor, for any cause, either go to the duchy, or elsewhere, against our will and command. " P.S. Edward, fair son, you are of tender age : take our commandments ten- derly to heart, and so rule your conduct with humility as you would escape our reproach, our grief and indignation, and advance your own interest and honour. Believe no counsel that is contrary to the will of your father, as the wise king Solomon iustructs you. Understand certainly, that if you now act contrary to our counsel, and continue in wilful disobedience, you will feel it all the days of your life, and all other sons will take example to be disobedient to their lords and fathers." > Not only did the evil influence of Isabella prevent the paternal remonstrances of the royal writer from having a proper effect on the mind of her son, but she succeeded in persuading him that she was the object of the most barbarous • Rymcr'a Foodera, vol. iv. ; from the Close Ilolls of 19th Edward IL 508 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. ■ I lli persecution, both from the Despencers and the king her hus- band. King Edward sent copies of his letters to the pope,' and entreated his interference so effectually, that the pontiff addressed his censures to Charles le Bel on his detention of the queen of England from her royal consort, and charged him, under the penalty of excommunication, to dismiss both Isabella and her son from his dominions. "When king Charles had read these letters," says Froissart, " he was greatly distm'bed, and ordered his sister to be made acquainted with their contents, for he had held no conversation with her for a long time ; and commanded her to leave his kingdom immediately, or he would make her leave it with shame." "^ " When the queen received this angry and contemptuous message from her brother, she was greatly troubled;" for the French barons had already withdrawn themselves, either, as Froissart states, by the king's commands, or through disgust at the infatuation of her conduct with regard to Mortimer, "and she had no adviser left but her dear cousin, Robert d'Artois ;" and he could only assist her secretly, since the king, her brother, had not only said, but sworn, " that whoever should speak in behalf of his sister, the queen of England, should forfeit his lands, and be banished the realm." Robert of Artois had also discovered that a plan was in agitation for delivering queen Isabella, the prince her son, the earl of Kent, and sir Roger Mortimer, to king Edward.'* " Robert of Artois came in the middle of the night to warn Isabella of the peril in which she stood. The queen was struck with consternation at this intelligence; he strongly urged her to enter the imperial territories, and to throw herself upon the protection of some of the indepen- dent German princes, especially William count of Hainault, whose consort was Isabella's first cousin. The queen ordered her baggage to be made ready as secretly as possible, and having paid every thivg, — (a point of honesty recorded to her credit by Froissart,) — she quitted Paris with her son, and * llymer's Poedera, vol. iv. ; from the Close Rolls of the 19th Edward IL Froissart. Wnlsiiigham. ' Fi-oissiirt. * Ibid. befo galh "G( thin ler hus- le pope/ ; pontiff ntion of charged liss both en king f he was jquainted with her kingdom ame."'^ BHiptuous ied;" for 38, either, through h regard her dear issist her said, but sister, the banished 3d that a the prince to king le of the )od. The gence; he Bs, and to indepen- ' Hainault, en ordered ssible, and ded to her son, and ill Edward II. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 509 accompanied by Mortimer, and likewise by her husband's brother the earl of Kent, who had been attached to the homage- deputation, and was at this time decidedly her partisan. After some days she came into the country of Cambray. When she found that she was in the territories of the empire, she was more at her ease; she entered Ostrevant, in Hainault, and lodged at the house of a poor knight, called sir Eustace d'Arabreticourt,' who received her with great pleasure, and entertained her in the best manner he could, insomuch that afterwards the queen of England and her son invited the knight, his wife, and all his children to England, and advanced their fortunes in various ways. " The arrival of the queen of England was soon known in the house of the good count of Hainault, who was then at Valenciennes : sir John, his brother, was likewise informed of the hour when she alighted at the house of the lord of Ambreticourt. This sir John being at that time very young, and panting for glory like a knight-errant, mounted his horse, and accompanied by a few persons set out from Valen- ciennes, and arrived in the evening to pay the queen every respect and honour." The queen was at this time very dejected, and made a lamentable complaint to him of all her griefs; which affected sir John so much, that he mixed his tears with hers, and said : " Lady, see here your knight, who will not fail to die for you, though every one else should forsake you; therefore I will do every thing in my power to conduct you safely to England with your son, and to restore you to your rank, with the assistance of your friends in those parts; and I, and all those whom I can influence, will risk our lives on the adventure for your sake, and we shall have a sufficient armed force, if it please God, without fearing any danger from the king of France." The queen, who was sitting down and sir John standing before her, would have cast herself at his feet ; but he, gallantly interposing, caught her in his arras and said, — " God forbid that the queen of England should do such a thing ! Madam, be of good comfort to yourself and com- ' Froissart. ■UAI 510 ISABELLA OF FBANCE. i', r panv, for I will keep my promise ; and you shall come and Bi irotfief and the countess his wife, and all their fine ehi. av who will b'' r<;j(>iced to see you, for I have heard them say so." The queen rtnswered : " Sir, I find in you more kindness and comfort than in all the world besides ; and I {^ve you five hundred thousand thanks for all you luive promised me with so much courtesy. I and my son shall be f^ff ,'ver bound unto you, antf "ve will put the kingdom of Eng- land under your management, as in justice it ought to be." ' When Isabella quitted the castle of Ambreticourt she told sir Eustace and his lady " that she trusted a time would come when she and her son could acknowledge their courtesy." Slie then mounted her horse and set off with her train, accom- panied by sir John, who with joy and respect conducted htr to Valenciennes. Many of the citizens of the town (;arae forth to meet her, and received her with great humility. She was thus conducted to William count of Ilainauit, who, as well as the countess, received her very graciously. Many great feasts were given on this occasion, as no one knew better than the countess how to do the honours of her house.' Queen Isabella remained at Valenciennes during eight days with the good count and Ms countess, Joanna of Valois. When she was preparing for her departure, John of Hainault wrote very affectionate letters to certain knights-companions, in whom he put great confidence, from Brabant and Bohemia, " beseeching them, by all the friendship there was between them, to arm in the cause of the distressed queen of England."^ The armament having assembled at Dort, the queen of ilngland took leave of the count of Hainault and his countess, thanking them much for the honourable ent( i-tainment they had shown her, and she ki; ^ed them at her d j>,a'V. re. Sir John with great difficulty obtained his 1 • ciu jrother's permission to accompany Isabella. When he took leave of him he said, — " My dear lord and brother, I am young, and be., ve that God has inspired me with a desire of this enter- pi^ne : /ny advancement. I also beheve for certain, that thi> iai* tT* I her son have been driven from their kmgdom 1 Ti : J. xruiBBtui. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 511 ome and heir fine ve heard I in you les; and you luive I shall be a of Eng- to be."' b she told >uld come sy." wShe Q, accom- ucted iier 3\vn (;ame huniihty. ault, who, \f. Many, one knew ler house." ight days of Valois. ■ Hainault impanions, Bohemia, between :ngland.'" queen of countess, ment they i . re. Sir jrother's k leave of roung, and this enter- rtain, that kmgdom wrongfully. If it is for tlio glory of God to comfort the afflicted, how much more is it to help tand succour one who is daughter of a king, descended from royal lineage, and to whose blood we ourselves are related ! 1 will renounce every thing here, and go and take up iW cross in heathendom beyond seas, if tliis good lady leaves us without comfort and aid. But if you will gr«ant me a willing leave, 1 nhall do well, and accomplish my purpose." The queen, her son, and suite finally set off, accompanied by Ay li'ohn, and went that night to Mons, where they slept. Mi r' e: barked at -Dort, according to Froissart, whose account of their voyage and landing on the terra incognita between C)t'"ord and Harwich is so marvellous, that the simple matter- of-tact details of the chronicle of Flanders appear much more to the purpose : " The fleet was tossed with a great tempest, but made the port about noon, when the queen bein^' got safely on shore, her knights and attendants made her a louse with four carpets, open in the front, where they kindled lier a great fire of the pieces of wreck, some of their ships ha\ ng been beaten to pieces in the tempest ; meantime the Flemish sailors got on shore before midnight all the horses and arms, and then the ships that had smvived the storm sailed (the wind being favourable) to the opposite coast. But the queen, finding herself ill at ease on the stormy sea-beach that nigjit, marched at day-break, with banners displayed, towards the next country town, where she found all the houses amply and well furnished with provisions, but all the people fled." Tlie advanced-guard, meantime, spread themselves over the countiy, and seized all the cattle and food they could get ; and the owners followed them, crying bitterly, into the presence of the queen, wiio asked them " What was the fair value of the goods ?" and when they named the price, she paid them all liberally in ready money. The people were so pleased with this conduct, that they supplied her well with provisions. " Queen Isabella arrived at Hai'wich on the 25th of Sep- tember, 1326,' on the domain of Thomas of Brotherton, the king's brother, who was the first that greeted her on her land- ' History of Harwich, by Silas Taylor. m 512 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. t I *■ I. I it 11 'I 'I lit ing.* Then she was met and welcomed by her uncle, Henry of Lancaster, and many other barons and knights, and almost all the bishops, notwithstanding the king's proclamation com- manding all men to avoid the queen's armament at its first landing." Her force consisted of two thousand seven hun- dred and fifty-seven foreign soldiers, well appointed, com- manded by lord John of Hainault. Mortimer was the leader of her English partisans. As he w^as a husband, and the father of a numerous family, the question naturally occurs, what became of ladv Mortimer while her husband devoted himself as cavaliere servente to the queen Isabel in France ? but the king certainly displayed more than his usual lack of judgment in this matter. When Mortimer escaped to France, Edward seized poor lady Mortimer and her three daughters, and shut them in separate convents,'^ greatly to the satisfaction of the guilty parties, who had nothing to do but to keep them there when they obtained power. If the aggrieved king had possessed common sense, he would have taken some pains to send lady Mortimer and her children to France, who might have proved embarrassing company to the queen. The historian of Harwich declares that it was wonderful how the common people flocked to queen Isabella on her landing. Every generous feeling in the English character had been worked upon by her emissaries, who had dissemi- nated inflammatory tales of the persecutions she had endured from the king her husband, and his barbarous ministers. It was asserted that she had been driven into a foreign land by plots against her life, and tliat she was tlic most oppressed of queens, — the most injured of wives. So l)linding was the cxcritcment which, at tliis crisis, pervaded all classes of the people, that the glaring falsehood of her statements, as to the cause of her quitting England, was forgotten ; the imj)ro- • Spcakiiip of this oarl of Norfolk, Drayton, with his niinuto udheronco to fHi>t8, »ayg, — " And ohifc oorl-miirslitt! proat npon the ooiwt, With holln and hotiflri's wflcoiiu's her en shore; And by hin oftice jjfiitlierin^f wy an howl, •Showed the great Huluen tliat he to Kdward Iwro." ' Those particnhirH are pn'serveil in tiie I'eeni^ifo for Kn^land, 3 vols. 1711, puhliHhed by K. Sanger, Pout-office ; aud CuIUiih, at tho Black-boy, Fleet-atroet. nu) leui I U']|< ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 513 B, Henry d almost ion corn- its first vreu hun- ;ed, com- be leader and the Iv oecnrs, I devoted 1 France? isual lack escaped to her three atly to the to do but 3 aggrieved aken some ranee, who ueen. , wonderful 11a on her 1 character id disserai- ad endured listers. It frn land by jpprcssed of g was the isscs of the ,, as to the the impro- adheronco t«) ;9 r«." d, 3 vo\9. 1711. »y, Fleet-street. prieties of her conduct, which had excited the disgust of her own countrymen, and caused the king, her brother, to expel her with contempt from his dominions, were regarded as the base calumnies of the Despencers. The facts that she came attended by her paramour, an outlawed traitor, and at the head of a band of foreign mercenaries, to raise the standard of revolt against her husband and sovereign, having abused her maternal influence over the mind of the youthful heir of England to draw him into a parricidal rebellion, excited no feeling of moral or religious reprobation in the nation. Every Plantagenct in England espoused her cause ; but it is to be observed, that the king's younger brothers by the half blood, Thomas of Brotherton and the earl of Kent, were Isabella's first cousins, being the sons of her aunt Marguerite of France, and that Henry of Lancaster was her uncle. The connexion of these princes with the blood-royal of France had ever led them to make common cause with queen Isabella. By them and by their party she was always treated as if she were a person of more importance than the king her husband. When the alarming intelligence of the landing of the queen's armament reached the king, he was paralysed, and, instead of taking measures for defence, he inmicdiately wrote pathetic letters to the poj:; and the king of France, entreating their succour or interference. He then issued a proclamation, proscribing the persons of all those who had taken arms against him, with the exception of (piecn Isabella, the prince her son, and his brother the earl of Kent. It is dated Sept. 28, 1320 : in it he offers a thousand pcnmds for tlie heacl of the arch-traitor, Roger Mortimer. The queen, who had traversed England with great celerity, at the head of an increasing army, innnediately published a reward of double that sum for the head of tlie younger Despcnccr, in her manifesto from Wallingford, wherein she set forth that her motives in coming are to deliver the kingdom from the mis- leaders of the king.' The next attack on the king was from the])ulpitat Oxford, where Adain Orleton, bishop of Hereford, havuig called the VOL. I. ' FaxltTU. L L 514 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. ( University together, in the presence of the queen, the prince of Wales, Roger Mortimer, and their followers, preached a sermon from the following text: " My head, my head acheth," (2 Kings iv. 19,) in which, after explaining the queen^s motive for appearing in arms, he with unpriestly ferocity concluded with this observation: " When the head of a king- dom becometh sick and diseased, it must of necessity be taken off, without useless attempts to administer any other remedy." ' The delivery of this murderous doctrine, in the presence of the wife and son of 1ie devoted sovereign, ought to have filled every bosom with horror and indignation; but such is the blindness of party rage, that its only effect was to increase the madness of the people against their unhappy king. That misjudging prince, after committing the custody of the Tower and the care of his second son, John of Eltham, to the young lady Despencer, his niece, and the guardianship of the city ci London to th^ faithful Stapleton, bishop of Exeter, left the metropolis, attended by the two Despencers, the earls of Arundel and Hereford, his chancellor, Baldock bishop of Norwich, and a few others of his adherents, and fled to Bristol, with the intent of taking refuge in Ireland.'^ The departure of the king was the signal for a general rising of the Lon- doners, in which the bishop of Exeter immediately fell a sacrifice to the fury of the partisans of the queen and Mor- timer. The head of that honest prelate was cut off, and presented to the queen at Gloucester, as an acceptable offer- ing. " Six weeks afterwards," says Thymic, " the queen, forgetting all discourtesies, did (like a woman desirous to show that his death happened without her liking, and abo that she reverenced his calling) conunand his corpse to he removed from the ])lace of its firwt dislionorable interment under a heap of rnl)l)i8h, and (mused it to be buried in his om n cathedral."'* The lady DesjuMieer, intinndated by this murder, surrendered the Tower to tlie niol), who proclaimed prince John the eustos of the city, and in the queen's name liberated the prisoners in all the gaols. ' Do la Mfior. ' Walmiifflmin. Do In M(K»r. ' Th^niic'H MS. liivc's ol'thc liorJ Truiumrcrsj cuUectiuu of sir T. I'hillipiiM. bar fug] ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 515 3 prince ached a ichetli," queen's ferocity ■ a king- be taken 3medy."^ jsence of ave filled jh is the jrease the g. That he Tower ;he young he city C r, left the ! earls of bishop of to Bristol, departure the Lon- tely fell a and Mor- it oft", and ;ablc ofier- the queen, U'sirous to J, and aho ■rpse tt) be interment iu his own his munU'r, med ])rin(T wv liberated l(K)r. It. ruuiipi*. €(r ^The queen and all her company/' says Froissart, "the lords of Hainault and their suite, took the shortest road for Bristol, and in every town through which they passed were entertained with every mark of distinction. Their forces augmented daily until they arrived at Bristol, which they besieged. The king and the younger Hugh Despencer shut themselves up in the castle : old sir Hugh and the earl of Arundel remained in the town, but these the citizens delivered up soon after to the queen, who entered Bristol, accompanied by sir John Hainaidt, with all her barons, knights, and squires. Sir Hugh Despencer, the elder, and the earl of Arundel, were surrendered to the queen, that she might do what she pleased with them. The children of the queen were also brought to her, — John of Eltham and her two daughters. As she had not seen them for a long time, this gave her great joy. The king and the younger Despencer, shut up in the castle, were much grieved at what passed, seeing the w hole country turned to the queen's party. The queen then ordered old sir Hugh and the earl of iVrundel to be brought before her son and the barons assembled, and told them ' that she should see that law and justice were executed on them, according to their deeds.' Sir Hugh replied, ' Ah ! madam ; God grant us an upright judge and a just sentence ! and tliat if we cannot find it in this world, we may find it in another.' " He was instantly con- demned to suffer a traitor's death, and although he was ninety years old, was hanged in his armour, just as he Mas taken from the queen's presence, within sight of the king and his son, who were in the castle. " Intimidated by this e\(;cution," continues Froissart, " they endeavoured to cscajjo to the AVelsh sliore in a boat which they had behind the castle ; but after tossing about some days, and striving in vain against the contrary winds, which drove them re})eatedly back within a mile of the castle from whence they were trying to escape, sir Hugh Beaumont, ol)serviiig the efforts of this unfortunate bark, rowed out with a strong finve in his l)arge, to see who was in it. The king's exhausted boatmen were soon overtaken, and the consequence was, that the royal I'ugitive and his hapless favourite were brought back to Bristol, L l2 I ii li ii ^ \ ii p 516 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. and delivered to the queen as her prisoners." According to other historians, Edward fled to Wales, and took refuge among the monks of Neath ; but his retreat was betrayed by sir Thomas Blunt, the steward of his household. The queen and all the army set out for London. Sir Thomas Wager, the marshal of the queen's army, caused sir Hugh Despencer to be fastened on the poorest and smallest horse he could find, clothed with a tabard such as he was accustomed to wear, that is, with his arms, and the arms of Clare of Gloucester in right of his wife, emblazoned on his surcoat, or dress of state. Thus was he led in derision, in the suite of the queen, through all the towns they passed : he was announced by trumpets and cymbals, by way of greater mockery,till they reached Hereford, where she and her followers were joyfuUy and respectfully received, and where the feast of All Saints was celebrated by them with great solemnity. The unfortunate Hugh Despencer would eat no food from the moment he was taken prisoner, and becoming very faint, Isabella had him tried at Hereford, lest he should die before he reached London. Being nearly insensible when brought to trial, his diabolical persecutors had him crowned with net- tles;' but he gave few signs of life. His miseries were ended by a death, accompanied with too many circumstances of horror and cruelty to be more than alluded to here. He was executed at Hereford, in the stronghold of the power of Mortimer : the queen was present at his execution.'' The earl of Arundel and two gentlemen named Daniel and Micheldene, were beheaded previously at Hereford, to gratify the vindictive feelings of Mortimer, who cherished an especial animosity against them. Baldock, the chancellor, though protected by his priestly vocation, as bishop of Norwich, from the axe and the halter, derived little benefit from his clergy, since he was consigned to the tender mercies of Adam Orleton, through whose contrivance he was attacked by the London mob with such sanguinary fury, that he died of the injuries he received on his way to Newgate.' Chronicle in Loianu, written by iilf W. Packiiif^m, trOMBurcr to KtlwarJ t'u' Black Prince 3 Miolielet'8 HUt. of Franco. ' Wabtinglmni. Du k Muur. Ill jrding to ;e among jd by sir on. Sir caused sir smallest ,s he was 3 arms of ed on his ion, in the d: he was »f greater r followers he feast of mity. food from very faint, die before m brought I with net- vere ended istances of He was power of ion.'' The )aniel and , to gratify an especial jr, though 'wich, from his ck^rgy, m Orleton, le London he injuries . t.M.....— 1 *»... ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 517 1» Moor. Now the evil nature of Isabella of France blazed out in full view. Hitherto her beauty, her eloquence, and her com- plaints had won all hearts towards her cause ; but the touch- stone of prosperity showed her natural character. Much of the cruel and perfidious spirit which characterized the con- duct of her father Philip le Bel, in his ruthless dealings with the knights-Templars, may be traced in her proceedings at this period. She was, however, the popular idol of the English just then; and, as long as the national delusion lasted, she could do no wrong. Flushed, but not satisfied with vengeance, Isabella set out for London, accompanied by her son, her doughty champion sir John of Hainault, and her paramour Mortimer, her baronial partisans, and her foreign troops; while a motley levy of volunteers, who had accu- mulated on the road, followed in an almost interminable con- course. As they approached the metropolis, great crowds poured forth to welcome them. The queen was hailed as the deliverer of the country : the citizens presented costly gifts to her, and also to some of her followers. We may suppose that Mortimer was not forgotten. ' Previously to her quitting Bristol, the queen summoned a parliament, in the king's name, to meet at Westminster, December the 15th, " in which Isabella, queen-consort, and Edward, son of the king, the guardian of the realm, and the lords, might treat together." This writ was tested by the prince, as guardian ; but a new summons was issued for the meeting of parliament at the same place, on January 7th, to treat with the king himself, if he ivere present, or el^e with the queen-consort and the king's son, guardian of the realm. The summons was tested by the king himself, at Ledburv, December 3, 132(5. The parliament met, the misdemeanours of the sovereign were canvassed, his de]K)sitiou was decreed, and his eldest son was elected to his office, and immediately proclaimed king in Westminster-hall by the style and title of Edward HI. When the decision of her own faction was made known to Isabella, she burst into a passion of weeping,^ and tliesc counterfeit tears so wrought upon the generous » Holls of I'arliiiincnt. Urady. * Walshighani. 518 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. unsuspicious nature of her son, tliat he made a solemn vow not to accept the oftered crown of England, unless it were his royal father's pleasure voluntarily to resign it to him. Isabella had overacted her part, and her party were a little disconcerted at the virtuous resolution of the princely boy, as they had never dreamed of making the consent of the king to his own deposition a preliminary to the inauguration of his successor; but they found nothing less would satisfy the young Edward as to the lawfulness of his title to the tlirone. The king had already been compelled to resign the great seal to the delegates of his queen and parliament, at ^Monmouth-castle. Adam Orleton, the traitor bishop of Hereford, was the person employed by the queen to demand it ; and as the king quiescently resigned it to him, he was deputed, with twelve other commissioners, to require the fallen monarch to abdicate his royal dignity, by delivering up his crown, sceptre, and the rest of the regalia into their hands. The commissioners ])rocecded on their ungracious errand to Kenilworth-castle, where the king was kept as a state- prisoner, but with honourable treatment, by his noble captor, Henry of Lancaster. Orleton was the spokesman,' and vented the insatiable malice of his heart in a series of the bitterest insults against his fallen sovereign,^ under the pre- tence of demonstrating the propriety of depriving him of a dignity of which he had proved himself unworthy. Edward listened to the mortifying detail of the errors of his life and government, with floods of tears f and when Orleton enlarged ou the favour shown liim by the magnates of his kingdom, in choosing his son for his successor instead of conferring tin; crown on a stranger, lie meekly assented, and withdrew to prepare himself for the resignation of the outward symbols of sovereignty.^ De la Moor, the faithful servant of Edward II., gives a pathetic account of the scene in the presence-chamber at Kenilworth-eastle, where the eonnnissioners, in the presence of Henry Plantagenet, earl of Leicester, the earl of Lancaster's Kupin. • Do In M(M)r. • De Itt Moor. Knighton. Wuluingliiuu. ' Wal«inglmtn. * Ibid. ot ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 519 emn vow i it were him. y were a ) princely cut of the lUguration lid satisfy ;le to the resign the lament, at bishop of ;o demand m, he was 3 the fallen mg np his icir hands. errand to s a statc- ihlc captor, man/ and ies of the jr the pre- him of a Edward lis life and )n evdarged ingdom, in iferring the; ithdrew to symbols of [I., gives a ;handjer at presence of Lancaster's Itupiu. eldest son, were drawn up in formal array by Orlcton, to renounce their homage to king Edward, and to receive his personal abdication of the royal dignity. After a long pause the unfortunate prince came forth from an inner apartment, clad in mourning weeds, or, as the chronicler expresses it, " gowned in black," the late struggle of his soul being suf- ficiently denoted by the sadness of his features; but on entering the presence of his obdurate subjects, hv, sank down in a deep swoon, and lay stretched upon the earth as one dead. The earl of Leicester and the bishop of Winchester immediately Hew to his assistance, and, raising him in their arras, with some tendeniess supported him. After much trouble, they succeeded in restoring their unhappy master to a consciousness of his misery.' " As piteous and heavy as this sight was," continues the chronicler, " it failed to excite the compassion of any other of the queen^s commissioners. Scarcely, indeed, had the king recovered from his indisposi- tion before the relentless Orleton, regardless of the agony he had inflicted, proceeded to a repetitioii of his cruel insults."' Tlie king gave way to a fresh paroxysm of weeping ; and being much pressed for his decision, he at length replied, that " He was aware that for his many sins he was thus punished, and therefore he besought those present to have compassion upon him in his adversity ;" adding, " that much as he grieved for having incurred the hatred of his people, he Avas glad that his eldest son was so gracious in their sight, and gave them thanks for choosing him to be their king." The ceremony of abdication, in this instance, it seems, consisted chiefly in the king's surrender of the crown, sceptre, orb, and otiier ensigjis of royalty, for the use of his son and successor. Sir William Trussell, the same judge wiio pro- nounced sentcnice of death on the Desj)encers, and other adherents of the king, and whose appearance among the com- missioners of the (]iu!en and parliament had probal)ly caused the king's swoon, pronomiced the renunciation of homage. The chief faults of Edward 1 L appear to have been errors of iudo'mciit and levity of dej'ortmcnt. He is accused of ' Do la Moor. ^ Ibid. Wuls'mglmm. 520 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. i having made a party on the Thames in a returned fagot- barge, and of buying cabbages of the gardeners on the banks of the river, to make his soup, — a harmless frolic,* which might have increased the popularity of a greater sovereign. Edward was, however, too much addicted to the pleasures of the table, and is said to have given way to habits of intem- perance. From an old French MS., we find that he paid Jack of St. Alban, his painter, for dancing on the table be- fore him, and making him laugh excessively.^ Another per- son he rewarded for diverting him by his droll fashion of tumbling off his horse. The worst charge of all is, that he was wont to play at chuck-farthing, or tossing up farthings for heads and tails ; a very unkingly diversion, certainly, and sufficient to disgust the w^arlike peers wlio had been accus- tomed to rally round the victorious banner of the mighty father of this grown-up baby. '; Adversity appears to have had a hallowing influence on the character of Edward II.; and the foUoAving touching lines, written by him in Latin during his captivity, sufficiently denote that he was learned, and possessed reflective powers and a poetic imagination : — " On my devoted head Her bitterest showers, All from a wintry cloud, Stern fortune pourg. View hut her favourite/ Sage and discerning, Graced with fair comeliness, Famed for his learning ; Should she withdraw her smiles. Each grace she banishes. Wisdom and wit are flown. And beauty vanishes,'"' As soon as the commissioners returned to London with the regalia, and signified the abdication of the late sovereign to the queen and the parliament, the prince of Wales was publicly proclaimed king on the 20th of January, 1327, and Walter archbishop of Canterbury preached a sermon in Westminster-abbey, preparatory to the coronation, taking for his text, not any verse from Scripture, but the words. Vox populi vox Dei. The queen judged it prudent to detain her sworn champion, sir Jolin dc Hainault, and as many of his ' De la Moor. Walsingham. Polydore Vergil. * J. P. Andrews; Collections from the Chronicles. a 1^1 ^1 i.„ »* l: oii|ij)untm iAi iiiuiiii iTiortiiiicr. * Tliese lines are translated by ,T. P. Andrews from the original Latin, jjro- servetl in aldennau Fabyau's Chronicle. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 521 id fagot- le banks ;/ which 3vereign. asures of »f intem- he paid table he- ther per- Lshion of 1, that he farthings linly, and en accus- lg mighty uence on ling lines, ufficiently ve powers ess, 9 smiles, 38, n, 4 H with the ercign to '^ales was 1327, and rmon in ;aking for Drds, Vox etain her ny of his Latin, i)rc- stout Flemings as he could induce to remain in her service, till after the coronation of the young king, who had comp^'^'-^d his fifteenth year in the preceding November. He recb. ^d knighthood from the sword of his cousin, the earl of Lan- caster, assisted by sir John Hainault, on this occasion. " There was at this time," says Froissart, " a great number of countesses and noble ladies attendant on the queen Isabella. The queen gave leave to many of her household to return to their country-seats, except a few nobles whom she kept with her as her council. She expressly ordered them to come back at Christmas, to a great court which she proposed to hold. When Christmas came she held her court ; it was very fully attended by all the nobles and prelates of the realm, as well as by the principal officers of the great cities and towns. The young king Edward, since so fortunate in arras, was crowned with the roval diadem in Westminster on Christmas- day, 1326." The most remarkable feature at this coronation was the hypocritical demeanour of the queen-mother Isa- bella, who, though she had been the principal cause of her husband's deposition, affected to weep during the whole of the ceremony.' Sir John de Hainault and his followers were much feasted, and had many rich jewels given them at the coronation. He remained during these grand feasts, to the great satisfaction of the lords and ladies who were there, until Twelfth-day. Then the king, by the advice of the queen, gave him an annuity of four hundred marks, to be held by him in fee, payable in the city of Bruges ; and to the countess of Garennes, and some other ladies who had accompanied the queen Isabella to England, king Edwai'd III. gave many rich jewels, on their taking leave. With a view of increasing the unpopularity of her unhappy lord, Isabella wrote to the pope on the last day of February, 1327, requesting him to canonize the beheaded earl of Lancaster, her uncle, whose virtues she greatly extolled.* The parliament, immediately after the coronation, appointed * Planche's Hist, of Coronations. - Uraily's Hist., p. 138, unci Appendix, No. 01, GG. Rapin, 397. 522 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. A'f a council of regency for the guardianship of the youthful sovereign and the realm, consisting of twelve bishops and peers. Among these were the king^s two uncles, Thomas of Brotherton, earl-marshal, and Edmund of Woodstock, earl of Kent, and the archbishops of Canterbury and York, &c. &c. The earl of Lancaster was appointed the president. The queen made no remonstrance against this arrangement ; but, having military power in her own hands, she seized the government, and made Roger Mortimer (whom she had caused her son to create earl of March) her prime-minister, and Adam Orleton her principal counsellor.* This precious trio managed the affairs of the kingdom between them. Isabella, who had hitherto made profession of the most dis- interested regard for the public good in all her actior.s, and had been hailed as a liberator and friend of the peopie, now threw off the mask, and, with the sanction of a parliament composed of her creatures, appropriated to herself two-thirds of the revenues of the crown. She also took occasion of an incursion of the Scots to recall the foreign troops under the command of her vowed champion, sir John of Hainault, to strengthen her authority, under pretence of assisting in tlie defence of the realm. The arrival of thefc.e mercenaries, how- ever, was any thing but agreeable to the Londoners. " The queen," says Froissart, " held a great court on Trinity-Sunday, at the house of the Black Friars; but she and her son were lodged in the city, where each kept their lodgings separate, — the young king Avith his knights, and the queen with her ladies, whose numbers were very considerable. At this couj't the king had five hundred knights, and dubbed fifteen new ones. The queen gave her entertainment in the dormitory, where at least sixty ladies, whom she had invited to entertain sir John de Hainault and his suite, sat down to the table. There might be se:n a numerous nobility, well served with plenty of strange dishes, so disguised that it could not be known what they were. There were also ladies n^ost superbly dressed, who were expecting with impatience the hour of the ball, but they expected in vain. Soon after dinner the guests were fic] ' Walslnghani. De la Moor. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 523 youthful lops and homas of k, earl of :, &c. &c. It. The ent; but, seized the she had j-minister, s precious een them, most dis- 'tions, and 20pie, now parliament ' two-thirds ision of an under the ainault, to ;ing in tlie laries, how- .rs. " The Ity-Sunday, er son were separate, — 1 her ladies, s couT't the I new ones, ry, where at ain sir John ble. There Lth plenty of known what »ly dressed, he ball, but p-nests were suddenly alarmed by a furious fray, which commenced among the English archers and the grooms of the Hainault knights, who lodged with them in the suburbs. The Hainault knights, their masters, who were at the queen's banquet, hearing the bruit of the aflfray, rushed to their quarters. Those that could not enter them were exposed to great danger, for the archers, to the number of three thousand, shot both at masters and grooms." This fray effectually broke up Isabella's mag- nificent Sunday ball at Blackfriars. Meantime the deposed sovereign Edward II. continued to write from his prison the most passionate letters of entreaty to Isabella to be permitted to see her and their son. He was encouraged, perhaps, by the presents which (according to Walsingham) she occasionally sent him, of fine apparel, linen, and other trifling articles, accompanied by deceitful messages, expressing solicitude for his health and comforts, and lament- ing that she was not permitted by the parliament to visit him;' nothing was, however, further from the heart of Isabella than feelings of tenderness or compassion for her hapless lord. The moment she learned that her uncle, Henry of Lancaster, had relented from his long-cherished animosity against his fallen sovereign, and was beginning to treat him with kindness and respect, she removed him from Kenilworth, and gave him into the charge of the brutal ruffians, sir John Maltravers and sir Thomas Gurney, who had hearts to plan and hands to execute any crime for which their agency might be required: " Such tools tlie Tempter never needs To do the savagest of deeds." By this pair the royal victim was conducted, under a strong guard, first to Corfe-castle, and tlien to Bristol, whcrp public sympathy operated so far in his favour, that a project was formed by the citizens for his deliverance. When this was discovered, the associate-traitors, Gurney and Maltravers, hurried him to Berkeley-castle, which was destined to be his last resting-place. On the road thither he was treated in the most barbarous manner by his unfeeling guards, Avho took fiend-like delight in augmenting his miser\', b him Walsingham. De la Moor, liapin. Speed. «i l! i! I I f 11 !:/| 524 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. of sleep, compelling him to ride in thin clothing in the chilly April nights, and crowning him with hay, in mockery.' According to De la Moor, the queen's mandate for the murder of her royal husband was conveyed in that memorable Latin distich from the subtle pen of Adam Orleton, the master- fiend of her cabinet; it is capable, by the alteration of a comma, of being read with two directly opposite meanings: — " Edwardnm occidere nolite timere, bonum est. Edvvardum occidere nolite, timere bonum est."* ' Edward to kill fear not, the deed is good. Edward kUl not, to fear the deed is good,* Maurice de Berkeley, the lord of the castle, on the first arrival of the unhappy Edward, had treated him with so much courtesy and respect, that he was not only denied access to him, but deprived of all power in his own house. On the night of the 22nd of September, 1327, exactly a twelvemonth after the return of the queen to England, the murder of her unfortunate husband was perpetrated, with cu'cumstances of the greatest horror. No outward marks of violence were perceptible on his person, when the body was exposed to public view, but the rigid and distorted lines of the face bore evidence of the agonies he had undergone, and it is reported ^ De la Moor adds, with great indignation, that they made him shave in the open field, bringing him cold muddy water in an old helmet, from a stagnant ditch, for that purpose. On which the unfortunate Edward passionately observed, in allusion to the bitter tears which overflowed his cheeks at this wanton cruelty, "In spite of you, I shall be shaved with warm water." The excellence of Edward's constitution disappointing the systematic attempts of the queen's merciless agents, either to kill him with sorrow, or by broken rest, improper diet, and unwholesome air, they a])plicd to Mortimer for fresh orders, it being well known that the whole body of the Friars-preachers were laboiu-ing, not only for his deliverance, but his restoration to royal power. The influence of this fraternity was calculated to awaken the sympathies of every village in Englanl in favour of their deposed sovereign, whose patience and meekness under lis afflictions and persecutions had alreatly pleaded his cause in every heart not wholly dead to the tender impulses of com])assion. It is supposed the sudden idea of shaving the king, originated in the fear of his being recognised by his partisan's on his journey. 2 A modern biographer of this prelate, with some degree of plausibility, endeavours to acquit him of this crime, on the grounds that the equivocal Latin verses, quoted by so many English authors, were composed more than a century prior to this era by an archbishop of Strimoniura, with reference to Gertrude qneen of Hungary, and also that Orleton was out of the kingdoDi at the time of Edward II.'s murder; but there is no reason why he should not have altered and adapted the lines for this purpose. i ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 525 he chilly ! for the eraorahlc 3 master- ion of a mings: — the first 1 so much access to On the ilvemonth ier of her stances of ence were exposed to : face bore s reported I shave in the m a stagnant tely observed, mton cruelty, excellence of the queen's •est, improper ■ders, it being ring, not only uence of this ;e in Englanl ess under li's ery heart not ed the sudden )gnised by his plausibility, qui vocal Tjalin ban a century e to Gertrude at the time of ve altered and that his cries had been heard at a considerable distance from the castle where this l)arbarous regicide was committed. " Many a one woke," adds the narrator, " and prayed to God for the hannless soul which that night Avas departing in torture."' The traditions of that neighbourhood affirm that Edward II. had always expr( ssed a wish that his mortal remains should repose in Gloucester cathedral, to which he had been a great benefactor; but Isabella, dreading the sympathy of the people being excited by the spectacle of their nmrdered sovereign's funeral, caused it to be privately intimated to all whom she suspected of loyal affection for his memory, that she would take deadly vengeance on any one who should presume to assist in removing his body from Berkeley. For some days the terror of the vindictive queen and her paramour, Mor- timer, (who was certainly a very powerful magnate in that part of England,) so prevailed, that neither baron nor knight durst offer to bring the dead king to his burial. At last the abbot of Gloucester boldly entered the blood-stained halls of Berkeley with uplifted crosier, followed by his brethren, and throwing a pall, emblazoned with his own arms and those of the church, over the bier, bade his people, " In the name of God and St. Peter, take up their dead lord, and bear him to his burial in the church to which he had given so many pious gifts;" and so commenced the Dirige, no one venturing to interrupt, much less to withstand, the churchmen in perform- ing the offices for the dead. Thus the courageous abbot triumphantly achieved his undertaking of conveying the body of his royal patron to Gloucester cathedral, where it was exposed to public view ; after which he solemnized the obsequies, and raised a stately monument to his memory. The marvellous- ness of vulgar superstition embellishes the tale with the romantic addition, that as the abbot was denied horses at Berkeley-castle to draw the hearse, he summoned to his assistance four wild harts from the forest, and by them it was conveyed to the cathedral. This legend is generally related ' These were the words of De la Moor, the faithful and affectionate servant of Edward IL, who did justice to his master's memory in his pathetic Latin chronicle. Edward III. afterwards raised a tomb with a fiue effigy to his father's memory. ■f ,U ' I i f I 526 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. to account for the figures of these animals, with which the royal shrine is decorated ; but as they were the cognizance of the abbot, their introduction is designed to perpetuate the memory of his covering the bier with his own pall, to place it under the protection of the church. Nor was tliis all our shrewd- witted abbot did ; for by the easy test of miracles performed at king Edward's tomb, he eflfected a complete reaction of public opinion in regard to the character of that unfortunate prince, and invested him with the posthumous honours of martyrdom, — and thus the first blow was struck at the popularity of Isabella. This was fighting her with her own weapons, too, for she and her party had succeeded in raising the indignation of the people against the king, by setting up the earl of Lancaster for a saint and martyr, through the fraudulent evidence of tlie miracles which they pretended had been wrought at his tomb. The fame of king Edward's miracles threw those of his former adversary quite into the shade, and proved not only a powerful political device, but a source of wonderful prosperity to the monks of (jloucester; for so great was the influx of pilgrims who repaired from all parts of England to offer up gifts and prayers at the royal tomb, that for a season it became a more fashionable i)lace of devotional resort than oithcr the shrines of St. Thomas sVlJecket or Our Lady of Walsingham.' The public indignation, in that part of the country, was so greatly excited against the infamous instrnnients of the queen and Mortimer, that they were fain to luake their escajie beyond seas, to avoid the vengeance of tlie people.^ Isabelhi cn(U'avourcd, by the marriage festivities of her son and liis yoinig (iueen,to dissipate the general gk)oni whieli the susj)ieioii8 • (UouceHtcr nitlit'drnl is said to have boon indebted for its nortli nislo mul trimsopt, and many otlior dotail« of elalKJrato ricliMcss, to the sudden tide of woaltli wliicli was tinis bnui^lit into tlio occlosiastical treasju'v hy this injfonions pieeo of loyal priestcndl. The (juaint antifjuo hostolrv, whore the itil^^rinislxanid to the Hhritie of kinjf lUlward at (iloneostor were lotlj;ed, is still in exintenee, and well worthy the attention of antitjuarian travellers. ■ Three years aHerwards, (hiniey was seized at Murf^oH l)y kinj; K\. vard 11 1. 's onlors, and heheadi'il at sea on his voya^^e to Kngland, in onlor to])revent, as it has liecn sujijioseil, the dispraee which nnist have fallen on the iineen-dowaper, if her share in the nnu'dcr uf the lute king, her hushand, luul lM!un brought to light at hin trial. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 527 hich the zance of uate tlie ) place it i all our miracles complete p of that sthumqus as struck r with her ceeded in king, by d martyr, Inch they fie of king sary quite cal device, iloucester; d from all the royal le place of s sVliccket ry, was so the queen nr csca|)e IsabeUa n and his suHp'u'ious )rtli nisU- iiutl uiUlon t'ulo of his him'uious iil^;riniHl)tmml oxistfiico, utiil K>. viinl Ill.'i* prt'Vfnt, lis i1 cu-(iowiip«'r. ii" m hrouglit to circumstances attending the death of her unhappy consort had occasioned. But so universal was the reaction of public opinion against her, that nothing but the despotism she had succeeded in establishing enabled her to keep possession of her usurped power.' The pacification with Scotland gave great offence to the public, because Isabella bartered, for twenty thousand pounds, the claims of the king of England over Scotland, and Mortimer appropriated the money to his own use. By the same treaty they restored the regalia of Scot- land to their rightful owners: the English were indignant that in this regalia was comprised the famous ' black cross of St. Margaret,* which had been one of the crown-jewels of their Anglo-Saxon kings." Still more were they enraged that, with- out sanction of parliament, the queen concluded a marriage between the princess Joanna, an infant of five years old, and David Bruce, the heir of Scotland, who was about two years older. Isabella accompanied her youiig daughter to Berwick, attended by Mortimer, and in their presence the royal ehikU'cn were married at that town, July 12, 1328.'^ It was observed that the two brothers of the late king, Thomas of Brotherton and Edmund earl of Kent, and Isabella's own uncle, the earl of Laricaster, with some other magnates, had withdrawn themselves from the national coun- cil, in utter indignation at her late proceedings and of the insolence of her favourite Mortimer. They perceived, too late, tliat they had been made the tools of an artful, ambitious, and vindictive woman, who, mider the pretence of reforming tlie al)uses of her husljajul's government, had usurped the sovereign authority, and in one year connnitted more crimes tlian the late king and his inqjopular ministers together had perpetrated during the twenty years of his reign.^ Moreover, the l)arbaron8 persecutions and cruel (U'ath of their late sove- reign made the princes recoil with horror at the idea of their having l)een, in some measure, accojupliees in the guilt of tlio (jueen. Her favourite, Mortimer, even had the audacity, when I l)n In \l(>nl> \Vil)iltll(r1||i)|], H Do In Moor. Is\ii(;l - Sor ilip moixnipiiy of Aliitildn ol" Snitlmul. The Scott'll tuIUmI tlu'ir I'lituu' (luocii, ii» lU'r'mlini, .loitii Muke-iioiuT. * VVulniiigliHin. Do la Moor. Kui^;liton. 528 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. i; ft .1 1 J!: i\: I [ p '< parliament met at Salisbury, October 16, to enter the town at the head of an army; and, bursting into the room where the prelates were assembled, forbade them, under peril of life and limb, to oppose his interests. He then seized on the young king and queen, and carried them oft' to Winchester ; and, far from paying any regard to the earl of Lancaster's conii)laints of the infringement of his office of guardian to the king's per- son, he marched to Leicester, and plundered his domain there.' Isabella's cruelty, hor hypocrisy, and the unnatural manner in which she rendered the interests of the young king, her son, subservient to the aggrandizement of her ferocious para- mour Mortimer, excited the indignation of all classes, and a strong party was organized, under the auspices of the Plan- tagcnet princes, to deliver England from the tyranny of this modern Semiramis. The earl of Lancaster, who was by this time fully aware of the disposition of his vindictive kins- woman, perceived that he was intended for her next victim ; on which he, with the brothers of the late king and their confederates, took up arms, and put forth a manifesto con- taining eight articles, all alarming to the guilty queen aiul Mortimer, — especially the first clause, which threatened in- quiry into the unlawful augmentations of her dower, and the fifth, regaiding the late king's death.* Aware of the impossibility of meeting such inquiries before j)arliament, Isabella urged the king, her son, to attack the malcontents, assuring l»im that the object of his uncle was to deprive him of the throne."* The interference of the archbishop of Canterbiu'y j)revente(l another civil war, and through his exertions a hollow pacifica- tion was effcM'ted. It was not, however, in the nature of Isabelhi to forgive any oft'ence that had ever been ottered to her; and it is to l)e observed, that her enmity had hitherto always proved fatal to every person who had be(;n so unfoi'- tunate as to incur her ill-will. With the wariness of a eat ahe now examined the characteristic qualities of the members • Liii^^ird. * Knijflitoii. ' LanciiBtiT wiw c-oinjM-iiCHi to ri«k jiiiriU.ii, tr. nuh'.r.it ts> ass t-siorsssous fhsi', nvA to enter into nH-o^iiMtiu'im not to t' their huuHehoUl ur council, wlietlier great or Hniall. — Lingurd. the town ►om where eril of life L the young r ; and, far complaints king's pcr- lain there.' I'al manner king, her cious para- sscs, and a • the Plan- [uiy of this was by this Lctive kins- ext victim ; ; and their lifesto con- qiieen and catened in- dow(;r, and >are of the parliament, iialcontents, leprivc him y i)revcnte(l ovv pacifica- i' nature of I Dtfcrcd to ad hitherto n so nnfor- HH of H cut »e members ! kintr, tho two ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 529 of the royal family, whom she determined to attack sepa- rately, since she had found them too strong to engage col- lectively. She commenced with the earl of Kent, who had, ever since the death of the king his brother, suffered the greatest remorse for the part he had taken in the late revolu- tion. Isabella, being aware of his state of mind, caused it to be insinuated to him that the late sovereign his brother was not dead, but a prisoner within the walls of Corfe-eastle. A friar, whom the earl employed to inquire into the truth of this tale, on finding that every one in that neighbourhood con- fidently believed that the unfortunate Edward II. was living under very close restraint in the castle, endeavoured to obtain access to this mysterious captive : he was shown, at a distance, a person sitting at table, whose air and figure greatly resem- bled that of the deceased king, whom, indeed, he was meant to personate. The earl of Kent, anxious to make reparation to his royal brother for the injuries he had done him, hastened to Corfe-castle, and boldly demanded of the governor " to be conducted to the apartment of sir l^dward of Caernarvon, his brother." The governor did not deny that king Edward was in the castle, but protested the impossibility of permitting any one to see him. The earl then prevailed on him to take charge of a letter for his illustrious ])risoner. This letter was immediately conveyed to (pie(>n Isabella, who caused the carl to be arrested at Winchester, whei'c tiie })arliament was then asscmbl(>d.' He was impeached of high treason before the [)cers. His own letter was the; eliief evidence produced against him, together with his eonfi^ssion, moreover, " that a certain Friar- preacher of London told him he had conjured up a sj)irit, who assured him that his brother Edward was still alive; also, that sir lugrauj liarengcr lirought him a letter fi'om the lord Zouehe, reiiuesting his assistance in the restoration of the late sovereign.""' His arraignnu'ut took place on Sunday, March 13, I.S29, (Isabella's sabbaths being no holidays,) and he was condemned to die on the nuuTow. " All that day," say the chroniclers, " the king was so beset by tlu^ (jueen his nu)ther, . lui the earl of March, tluit it was impossil)le for him to ujuke ' Wulmiighimi. " rublio Acti. VOL. I. M M 630 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. ii i , 4 ll ; ; i I it any efforts to preserve his uncle from the cruel fate to which he had been so unjustly doomed."^ This murder, which was designed by Isabella as an intimidation to the princes of the blood-royal, had the effect of increasing the abhorrence in whicli she was now held throughout the kingdom. She further outraged public opinion by presenting the principal part of the estates of the princely victim to Mortimer's son, Geoffrey.^ The death of Charles le Bel without male issue having left Isabella the sole surviving child of Philip le Bel, her eldest son, Edward III., considered that he had the best claim to the sovereignty of France. The twelve peers of France decided otherwise, and gave, first the regency, and then (on the birth of the posthumous daughter of Charles le Bel) the throne, to Philip of Yalois, the cousin of their late king. Ed'vard was eager to assert his claim, as the nephew of that monarch, and the grandson of Philip le Bel ; but his mother, deceived by overtures from France for a double marriage between her daughter Eleanor and the heir of Valois, and her second son and Philip's daughter, not only prevented him from asserting his own claims, but compelled him, sorely against his will, to acknowledge those of his rival, by per- forming homage for the provinces held of tlie French crown. Edward retiu'ned from his last conference with king Pliilip at Amiens, out of humour with himself, and still more so with his niotlier. The evil odour of her reputation was rife in France, and had been a source of deep mortification to him. Matters, which had been carefully kept from his knowledge in his own court, reached him through various channels when * See the chronicler in Lchuul, vol. U. p. 477, who deeply inii)li(!ateM Isiilnjlla in tliis misdeed. It inspired nil )HH)j)le with horror. The executioner himself stole secretly away, and the earl of Kent waited on the scaffold at ^\'inchester- ca*itle-j^t-e from ncK)n till ttve in the afteriKHm, IvH-ause no one rauld be induced to perff)rm that office. At length a condemned fei(ni in the Marshalsea obtained his i)ardon, on the condition of decai)itatinj? the uiifortimalc I'lantajfcnet. " After this execution, Mortimer a»i^mcnted his own retinue considerably, and nffiH'terson of Mortimer, because he was a worthy knight, her dear friend and weP -beloved cousin.' No reply was made to her inter- cession, and Mortimer was hurried away, the castle locked on the queen, and all her effects sealed up. The next morning Roger Mortimer and his friends were led prisoners towards London. As soon as they appeared, the populace of Notting- cxoei)ting one growing directly under the eiistle, wliieh was a prodigy: for, from tiie r(H)t to tlie toj), there wiw not one strain'iit twig in It. The tradition went, that King Kieliard III. phnited it with his own hands, and that the tree resem- bled hail in its growth." 534 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. I t ham and the nobles of the king's party set up a tremendous shout, the earl of Lancaster who was at that time blind, joining in the outcry, and making violent gesticulations for joy. On his arrival in London, Mortimer was for a few hours com- mitted to the Tower, previous to his summary execution."' This great culprit was arraigned in the king's presence before the peers, and after the indictment which contained a list of his misdemeanours was read, by the king's command every one was asked, says Froissart, " by way of counsel, what sentence should be awarded. Judgment was soon given ; for each had perfect knowledge of the facts, from good report and information. They replied to the king's question, that he ought to suffer the same death as sir Hugh Despencer the younger, which sentence had neither delay nor mercy. This was instantly carried into eflfect, without waiting to hear what the accused had to say in his own vindication." Mortimer was the first person executed at Tyburn, which was then known by the name of the Elms. His body hung on the gallows there two days and nights, by the especial order of the king ; it was then taken down and buried in the Grey Friars' church, within Newgate, of which queen Isabella was a benefactress.^ Sir Simon Burford and sir John Deverel, who were taken at the same time with Mortimer in the queen's ante-chamber at Nottingham-castle, were executed with him. They earnestly desired to disclose the particulars of the late king's murder, but were not permitted to do so, lest their disclosures should implicate the queen too deeply. Isabella was spared the ignominy of a public trial through the intercession of the pope, John XXIL, who wrote to the young king, exhorting him not to expose his mother's shame.' After this, Edward attributed all her crimes to the evil in- fluence of Mortimer, as may be seen in the royal declaration to parliament of the reasons which induced him to inflict the punishment of death on that great state-criminal. In the ' Stowe's Chronicle. ^ Kiiigliton. I)e la M(X)r. Wiilsiii^fham. Stowe. There is a precept in the ir,n.i„.». .........:4'^:».. 4.1... „.u',. .,.,,1 „,>.. ,,*• \i ,._<.:.>.,... *,. !>.,..,. i.;^ iw%.i.. ..«• wn but, according to Weevor, tlio transfer was not made till the next century. ' llaynokl, iv. 413, quoted by Dr. Lingard, vol. iv. p. 14. emendous me blind, ns for joy. ours com- ution/' ' presence contained command nsel, what ven; for report and that he )encer the rcy. This hear what Mortimer was then rig on the 1 order of the Grey abella was n Deverel, ler in the cuted with lars of the , lest their al through ote to the ''s shame.' »e evil in- leclaration inflict the In the )refei)t in the ..f \\r:.. .'(■ntury. 4. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 533 ninth article of this posthumous arraignment it is set forth that, — " The said Roger falsely and maliciously sowed discord between the father of our lord the king and the queen his companion, making her believe that if she came near her hus- band he would poignard L^^, or murder her in some other manner. Wherefore, by this cause, and by other subtleties, the said queen remained absent from her said lord, to ' the great dishonour of the king and of the said queen his mother, and great damage, perhaps, of the whole nation hereafter, which God avert' " ^ One of the first acts of the emancipated monarch, after the gallant achievement by which he had rendered himself master of his own realm, was to strip the queen-mother of the un- conscionable dower to which she had helped herself, and to reduce her income to 1000/. a-year.^ It was also judged expedient by his council to confine her to one of the royal fortresses at some distance from the metropolis, lest by ler intriguing disposition she should excite fresh troubles in the realm. " The king soon after, by the advice of his council, ordered his mother to be confined in a goodly castle, and gave her plenty of ladies to wait upon her, as well as knights and squires of honour.* He made her a handsome allowance, to keep and maintain the state to which she had been accus- tomed,^ but forbade her ever to go out or show herself abroad, except at certain times, and when any shows were exhibited in the court of the castle."* Castle-Rising, in Norfolk, was the place where queen Isabella ' 4 Edward III., anno 1330 ; Par. Rolls, p. 53. ^ Knighton. Walsingham. ^ Froissait. * In the year 1332, Edward declares that his mother has simply and spon- taneomli/ g'wen into his hands all the castloi" and estates which formed her dower; in return, lie has assigned his mother divers otlier lands and ctustles of the value of 20(X»i. ])cr annum : these are chiefly in North Wales, and the castle of Haver- ford, with its island, mill, and appurtenance, in South Wales ; the rest ov .;ho grants are mere annuities payahle from various royal demesnes. — Caley's Fcedera, p. 835. * Wo have here an allusion to the customs of those times when travelling shows were the only theatrical exhibition in use, and much encouraged by the magnates of the land. The courts of royd and baronial castles, were built with galleries round tb.em, for the conveuienco of the f imily witnessing these attractive Bpectocles : the principal hostultt were built in a similar manner, for the same purpose. 536 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. was destined to spend the long years of her widowhood. It was part of her own demesnes, having been lately surrendered to her by the widowed lady of the last baron of Montalt. This stately pile was built, in 1176, by William Albiui, hus- band to queen Adelicia, on a bold eminence smTounded by a high bank and deep vallum, like Norwich-castle. The walls were three yards thick; the keep was a large square tower, encompassed with a deep ditch and bold rampart, on which was a strong wall with three towers. Enough remains to show that Castle-Rising must have been almost an impreg- nable fortress.' Froissart says *^ the queen passed her time there meekly ;" by which our readers are to understand, that she neither devised plots nor treasons against the government of her illustrious son, Edward III., nor gave further cause for public scandal. To sir John de Molins was committed the office of steward of her household, an appointment which must have been peculiarly distasteful to the captive queen, since this knight was the first person who seized Mortimer in Nottingham-castle, and was rewarded, in consequence, with this post in her establishment.- More than one ancient historian hints that, during her long confinement, Isabella was afflicted with occasional fits of derangement.^ It is asserted that these aberrations com- menced in a violent access of madness, which seized her whUe the body of Mortimer hung on the gallows. Her agonies were so severe, that, among the common people, the report prevailed for some months that she died at the time the body ' It now belongs to tlie hon. Mrs. Greville Howard, one of the descendants of the great Albini, the original founder. The remains of this castle, so noted for its historical reminiscences, have been, by tl.« fine taste of the hon. colonel Howard, partly restored : the principal staircase has \, len repaired, and two rooms rendered habitable. In the course of the excavations, a Saxon church has been disinterred in a perfect state of preservation. The keep of Castle-llising is still used for courts-leet, which meet within the great hall. 2 Peerage of England, vol. ii. p. 283. ^ Sir Winston Churchill mentions tliis tradition as a fact ; Moreri hints at it. These reports are somewhat strengtiiened by the extravagant salary i)aid to her family physician at Rising-Castle. In the Foedera is a deed securing " lOOi. per annum to master Pontio de Courtrone, late physician to king Edward 11., and now to the queen -mother, Isabella ; the bailirts of Norwich are enjoined to pay him 501, at Easter and at Michachnas, as lung as lie lives, fur his great services to the queen-mother." The document is dated 1333. ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 537 hood. It iirreiidered f Montalt. Ibiiii, hus- .nded by a The walls are tower, on which •emains to ,n impreg- i her time stand, that Dvernment ther cause committed lent which ive queen, ortimer in ence, with uring her nal fits of Lons com- her while p agonies he report the body scendiuits of so noted for nel Howard, ms rendered I disinterred till used for hints at it. paid to lior " 100/. per I'd 11., and ined to pay t services to was taken down. These traditions lead us to conclude that for many months the populace did not know what had become of her. Her retired life, uncoimected with conventual vows, must have strengthened the reports of her derangement, which was attributed to the horrors of conscience. She was in her six-and-thirtieth year when her seclusion at Castle-Rising commenced. The king her son generally, when in England, visited her twice or thrice a-year,' and never permitted any one to name her in his presence otherwise than with the greatest respect. It is to be observed that Edward's council, in regard to the petitions of certain individuals for the recovery of money due to them during her government, are by him referred to the advice of queen Isabella. Her name is care- fully guarded from all reproach in the rolls of parliament, which, nevertheless, abound in disputes relative to her regency. A petition from the poor lieges of the forest of Macclesfield to king Edward declares, that " Madame, his mother, holds the forest as her heritage; and yet the bailift' of Macclesfield kills her venis: n, and destroys her wood." Isabella is not named as queen, but only as madarae the king's mother: the king replies, " Let this petition be shown to the queen, that her advice may be learned thereon." During the two first years of Isabella's residence at Castle- Rising, her seclusion appears most rigorous; but, in 1332, from various notations, the fact may be gathered that her con- dition was ameliorated. That year king Edward declared,^ "That, as his dearest mother had simply and spontaneously surrendered her dower into his hands, he has assigned her divers other castles and lands to the amount of 2000/." The same year this dower was settle.!, she was permitted to make a pilgrimage to the Lady shrine of Walsingham, not far from her residence in Norfolk. This is evidenced from the ancient Latin records of the corporation of Lynn,^ which is in the neighbourhood of Castle-Rising. There is an entry of 20*. for bread sent to Isabella, queen- dowager, when she came » Froissart. - Caley's Fcedera, 835. " We have been favoured with tl'.ese extracts by the hon. Mrs. Greville Howard; they are of historical iinportance, since they set at rest all doubts regarding the fact of Isabella's residence at Castle-liising. I i i vr : 538 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. from Walamgham; also 41. for a cask of wine, 3/. I85. Gd. for a piece of wax, and 2/. for barley ; also 3*. for the car- riage of these purchases. King Edward restored to his mother, two years afterwards, the revenues of Ponthieu and INIon- trieul, which were originally the gift of her murdered lord. The same year, 1331-, her son John of Eltham died in the bloom of life, and her daughter Eleanora was married to the duke of Gueldres. The records of Lynn contain the follow- ing notice, dated 1334 : " The queen Isabella sent her precept to the mayor to provide her eight carpenters, to make prepa- rations for the king's visit/' In 1337, Edward III. again made some stay at Castle- Rising with his mother, aud Adam de Rift'ham, of Lynn, sent him a present of wine on this occasion. Once only have we evidence that Isabella visited the metropolis : this was in the twelfth year of her son's reign, when she is witness to the delivery of the gi'cat seal in its purse by king Edward to Robert de Burghersli, in the grand chamber of the bishop of Winchestei*'s palace in Southwark. Parliament granted to Edward III. an aid of 30,000 sacks of w ool ; and by a vmt, dated Feb. 27, 1343, the barons of the Exchequer were forbidden to levy any part from the lands and manors of the queen-mother, " because it was unreason- able that a person exempt and not summoned to parliament should be burthened with aids granted by parliament." ' The same year Isabella received another visit from the king her son : on this occasion the Lvnn records note that 11/. 135. lOd. was expended for meat sent to " our lady queen Isabella." There is an item of 4/. 16,9. Id. paid by the eorijoration for a present sent to the household of our lord the king at Thorn- denes, at his first coming to Rising, and Sd. for a horse sent by a messenger to Risiug. The corporation, also, is answer- able for I2d. given lo William of Lakenham, the falcon-bearer at Rising; 4s. 3d. given to the messengers and minstrels of queen Isabella ; 2s. Hd. for wine sent to the queen's maid ; and \2d., a largess for the earl of Suftblk's minstrels. Barrelled sturgeon was a favourite food at the queen's table, and it was certaiiuy very costly when compared with the price r^ other * New Foedera, vol. ii. p. 835. )l ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 539 I ISs. 6d. I* the ear- is motlier, and INIon- icred lord, ied in the ried to the the foUow- ler precept ake prepa- III. again and Adam ne on this ella visited f her son's reat seal in a the grand jouthwark. 3,000 sacks barons of n the lands } unreason- parliament ;nt."^ The e king her I. I3s. lOd. Isabella." joration for ig at Thorn- horse sent is answer- dcon-bearer ninstrels of maid; and Barrelled !, and it was l,.y» t^f r\¥\\nv viands. The corporation of Lynn, the same year, sent gifts of a pipe of wine and a liarrel of sturgeon, costing together 9/. I2s. 9d., to their lady queen Isabella; and, moreover, p.aid John, the butcher, money for conveying the said gifts to Castle- Rising. They sent to her treasurer and seneschal gifts of wine that cost 40c?., and presented 12*. to John de Wynd- sore and other men of the king's family when at Rising, besides 2d. given to a servant looking for strayed horses from the castle ; likewise 40avid kuig of Scotland." 540 ISABELLA OF FRANCE. 1 lii sixty-three. She chose the church of the Grey Friars, where the mangled remains of her paramoiu* Mortimer had been buried eight-and-twenty years previously, for the place of her interment ; and, carrying her characteristic hypocrisy even to the grave, she was buried with the heart of her murdered husband on her breast. King Edward issued a precept to the sheriffs of London and Middlesex, November 20th, to cleanse the streets from dirt and all impurities, and to gravel Bishops- gate street and Aldgate, against the coming of the body of his dearest mother, queen Isabella; and directs the officers of his exchequer to disburse 9/. for that purpose. Isabella was interred in the choir of the Grey Friars', within Newgate, where a fine alabaster tomb was erected to her memory. She had given 621. towards the building of this church. It was usual for persons buried in the Grey Friars' to be wrapped in the garment of the order, as a security against the attacks of the foul fiend. Queen Isabella was buried in that garment, and few stood more in need of such protection. It is a tra- ditional circumstance, that she assumed the conventujil garb at Castle-Rising. Perhaps Isabella, in the decline of life, had been admitted into the third order of St. Francis, instituted about twenty years before her death for lay-penitents who were not bound by conventual vows. That she made some pretence to piety may be inferred from the following list of her relics, for which Edward III. gave a receipt "to his be- loved chaplain Edmund de llaumicrsl)y on behalf of his motlier, the first year of her imprisonment: Two crystal vases, con- taining mitnite bones, relics of tlie holy Innocents; one silver flask, containing relics of St. Sylvester; })art of the side of St. Lawremic, enclosed in silver; and a joint of John the Bap- tist's little finger."' According to Blonifield, local tradition asserts that queen Isabella lies buried in Gastlc-Uising church, and that all the procession to the Grey Friars' in London was but an empty pageant. In confirmation of this assertion they point out a Bininlr< crr<>v Btoiio witli fliiti ifiHririitf ittii (lp<>nlv nut — . ISABELLA RKdINA. • Cnloy's Fa' ColKirii, WA. PIIILIPPA OF ITAIXAULT. (^CEIIN OF EDWAKI.) ILL (TTAPTEH !. 'Vc'ViDUS at.taohincnt of Kdvard III. tuci I 1ijIj||:>m - ili* n^' <■•'''' -'- •''"* !'Hr*A)'» court -Jler blooiuinjj; ifeiulty- r>fm.»ri.UH| a; miirnis^if • P!)^lfjj}»i ■»•»•). «i si> Louden- Hix-qition -l'ljUh»|)«i tjavelx it«i. a'u! nlKn- tjiujirw Uirtli ':|" )i«>r cidf^l, sou Qiittiii nonrmhcht hhn -Hor fMrtraiti<» Toisniaim'tit -lhtnm'r<'iw*w'i*!^ift -King's tun <^ uxn's intentsiMkm l'UH;pjv4< wofrflen iBRiwIiu-turcrn- Sc:»i(li war- 'thu't'u SHH«'u'gi-«l in H.fpt»*'wij r*((it^. ?forti4 t4' tue jiri. '«■<'.■»- rtnal -(if'lhti j)rinc'"»« J(wr.«d iW H''lf'»4Si> *»f tiHtif^it T*mtk (rf thi* nfmie l><>ath of tllf qUlN»p'll ivtUl*^ ,%%^-♦>>!► \*t^ 'tM'in;^ ^'at-til'a tVi*;!- riiil)]>]>aN re-ti(l(Mi(T in t""l«u>i«»(i» -i tfKi .rf l\!*t:i j.t,'S'* Mti»*'« " •'•f f tt> Norwich • -Kiiijc's tuivnl v;.tn_v of l',(lyn*«» ^^ .> f'hilipjw - Tlioir act-ret d-'itartuni fWhi (.iiitrnt Kirlmn; with thdr ni%t ! ami ol the Towpr — Kliiy;'^ nn^cr- Count* •;•* of StiliHbnry— Cnlr? ' ' '■ ^%^ • .«»(•<% nianilii'strd in tlie tirst 8we«f Hpriijjf-tiwi*' ^ ^.^>*:-\,riuc(' Ijihvanl took rit'u^*' vvitli hi* ^■ 'i#-f \ ^- %* ii)(»lla, at tl»o coiift of HainauU. ' <'f..;.i <^¥^^i^. ,^' ifiault had ;it that tinw lour dnnjtrhi- r* ' s*!^*- yKj^ti," H'sc were Mnrj^arof, IMnlippa, Jimjj*- uMi li^***** f: , ag jH'iuoc, dnriii/j; his iiKjthfr'n rvHhi* s» < »* .It ;,t?f *!> ^^v j f <'(»urt and atttMaiou to Philip[» lUm\ ♦.» -^j ^." •?* - -j«**'> ., also •«,|» » i^»fl vuth hull nioro ffwLi^sH % I ..■v^ I ^.■: *M 1 'W,- 0^ .1- vf ^i'.i---' "' ■ -A ■"'*« "%^>-.^- •it . V«r ■Q-H ^■■•;^ a H4^ 4'- - :^ . 1 ..?^ •i .-(■• '•■ /^^ tv' Th E '"'If I li.;, PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. QUEEN OF EDWARD III. CHAPTER I. Previous attachment of Edward III. and Philippa — His sojourn at her father's coiu't— Her l)l(X)ining beauty — Demanded in marriage— Pliilippa arrives in London — Reception— Philippa travels to York — Married there — Her dower- Coronation — Claim on hor shoes, bed, and silver basins — Birtli of her eldest S(m — Queen nourishes him— Her portraits — Tou.nament — Dangerous accident — King's fury — Queen's intercession — Philippa's woollen manufacturers — Scotch war— Queen besieged in Bamborough -castle — liirth of the princess- royal — ^Of the priticess Joanna — Of William of Hatfield — Death of this prince — Death of the cpieen's fither— Poverty of the king — Pawns queen's crown — I'hilippa's residence in Flanders —Birth of Prince Lionel — Queen's visit to Norwich — King s naval victory — iueen's fourth son — King Edward's challenge — ^Piicification by the Queen's mother — Extreme ])overty of Edward and Philippa — Their secret departure from Ohent — J^mbark with their infant- Land at the Tower — King's anger — Countess of Salisbury — Order of the Garter — Philippa assists at the first chapter — Residence at Woodstock. The happy union of the ilhistrious Philippa with her thrice- renowned lord had been previously cemented by mutual pre- ference, manifested in the first sweet sj)ring-time of existence, Avlien prince Edward took refuge with his mother, queen Isabella, at the eoiu-t of Hainault. " Count William of Hainault had at that time four daughters,^' says Froissart; " these were Margaret, Philippa, Joanna, and Isabel. Tlie young prince, during his mother's residence in Hainault, paid more court and attention to Philij)pa than to any of the others, who also conversed with him more frequently, and sought 544 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. his company oftener, than any of her sisters." This was in 1326, when Prince Edward was in his fifteenth year, and the lady Philippa a few months younger. She was tall in stature, and adorned with the brilliant complexion for which the women of her country are celebrated. A poet of her time has commemorated '^ her roseate hue and beauty bright ;" and it can well be imagined that, with- out any claims to regularity of features, her early bloom was beautiful. The youthful lovers, after residing together in the palace of the count of Hainault at Valenciennes for about a fortnight, were st^parated. Edw . d embarked, with his mother and John of Hainault, on the dangerous expedition of invading his unfortunate father^s kingdom, while his beloved was left in a state of uncertainty whether the exigencies of the state and the caprice of relatives would ultimately permit to be joined the hands of those, whose hearts had already elected each other. Although a decided affection subsisted between young Edward and Philippa, it was not considered in accordance with the royal etiquette of that era for the heir of England to acknowledge that he had disposed of his heart without the consent of the parliament and council. Queen Isabella under- took the arrangement of this affair, and soon led the public authorities to the decision that a daughter of the count of Hainault would be the most desirable alliance for her son; but even as late as the fifth of August, 1327, the particular daughter of that family was not pointed out in the document requesting the dispensation of the pope; the words are, "to marry a daughter of that nobleman, William count of Hainault, Holland, and Zealand, and lord of Friesland," but the name of Philippa is not once mentioned throughout the letter. Thus the lovers remained seven months after the coro- nation of Edward in a state of suspense.* The council at last gravely decided that Adam Orleton,^ the notorious bishop of ' The name of Philippa is not mentioned till tlie lust instrument from Avignon was executed, dated Sc]it. 3, 1327. — Foodera, vol. iv. " Hist. Bishops of Winchester, vol. i. *^^™WIWHBB ^^ ^lis was in ar, and the in stature, which the •oseate hue that, with- arly bloom ig together ciennes for ed, with his :pedition of lis beloved :igencies of tely permit ad already ;en young accordance England to dthout the ella under- tlic public e count of f her son; i particular ! document words arc, a count of land," but ighout the r the coro- acil at last I bishop of from Avignon PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 545 Hereford, should visit the court of Hainault, and choose, among the daughters of the count, the young lady who seemed most worthy to be the queen of England. As the choice of the bishop and king fell on PhiUppa, the yomig king had certainly informed Adam Orleton, in confidence, which princess among the fair sisterhood was the elected lady of his heart. The proceedings of the bishop are thus narrated by our last rhyming chronicler, Hardyng :' — < ** He sent forth then to Hainault, for a wife, A bishop and other lords temporal. Among t\iem-selfs our lords, for high prudence, Of the bishop asked counsel and sentence, * Which dano;hter of the five should be our queen ?* Who counseU'd thus with sad avisement,' * We wiU have her with fairest form, I wene.' To which they all accorded with one mind. And chose Philippe that was full feminine. As the wise bishop did determine. But then among ihcm-selfs they laughed aye; Those lords then said, * Their bishop judged fiill sooth The beauty of a lady.'" » *' Shortly after the young king Edward completed his six- teenth year," says Froissart, " his council sent a bishop, two knights-banneret, and tvfo able clerks, to sir Jolm of Hainault, to beg of him to assist the yovmg king of England in his suit to one of his nieces, since the young king would love her more dearly than any other lady on liis account. Sir John feasted and paid many honom's to these messengers. He took them to Valenciennes, where his brother the count of * Hardyng was a Lincolnshire man, a chronicler and an antiquary, brought up in ■f:he family of the eail of Northumberland, so famous in the deposition of Richard II. In his youth he acted as secretary to his lord, and was present at the battle of Shrewsbury. He is, therefore, nearly a contemporary, and, as suchj his authority is great. His age must have been extreme, as he lived tlirough the whole of the reigns of the house of Lancaster ; was pensioned by Henry VI. in 20^, per annum, and finally presented his complete history to Edward IV. : he mu"t then have been more than ninety. He mentions five daughters of Hainault : the eldest, Sybella, who had been contracted to Edward III. in his infancy was dead at this time. ^ Serious consideration. ' This passage, among many others, will prove that personal beauty was con- sidered by our ancestors as a most desirable qualification in a queen-consort. For this reason, these biographies are compelled by truth to dwell on the personal advantages possessed by our queens. The queens of England, down to Katharine of Arragon, seem, with few exceptioiis, tu have beeli the miest women ui their time. VOT.. I. N N 546 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. I< £i I )| Hainault gave them such sumptuous entertainment as would be tiresome to relate. He most willingly complied with their requests, if the pope and holy church had no objection. Two of the knights and some able clerks were despatched to Avig- non ; for without the pope's dispensation it could not be done, on account of their near relationship, for their two mothers were cousins-german. As soon as they came to Avignon, the pope and college consented most benignantly. On their return to Valenciennes, immediate preparations were made for the dress and equipage of a lady who was considered worthy to be the queen of England.'' The king, then at Nottiiigham, empowered the bishop of Lichfield and Coventrj-,' on the 8th of October, 1327, to con- clude his marriage with the noble damsel, Phihppa of Hainault. He Ukewise charges " his beloved Bartholomew de Biu-ghersh, constable of Dover, to receive and welcome into his kingdom that noble person William count of Hainault, with the illus- trious damsel Phihppa, his daughter, and the famihars of the said count and damsel; and he charges all and singular his nobihty and people of the counties through which the count, damsel, and famihars may pass, to do them honom*, and give them needful aid.''^ It was necessary for the lady Fhilippa and her escort to travel across England to meet the royal bridegroom, who was then performing his warhke noviciate on the Scottish border, under the auspices of his mother and Mortimer, against the great Robert Bruce. Phihppa was married at Valenciennes by procuration, soon after the date of this instrument. She embai'ked for England at Wisant, landed at Dover with all her suite, and ai'rived in London December 23, 1327, with a retinue and display of magnificence in accordance with the great wealth of her country. She was escorted by her uncle, John of Hainault, * Foedera, vol. iv. Adam Orleton, who began the negotiation, had not the honour of finishing the treaty. He had at this time fallen into disgrace with Isabella and Mortimer, for accepting the rich bishopric of Winchester without the consent of the crown, and pertinaciously refusing to pay a bribe high enough to satisfy the rapacity of the queen-mother. The astute priest considered she was too much in his power to need "uch consideration. — See preceding olograph^. ' Dated at Clipstowe. Foedera, vol. iv. PIIILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 547 as would ndth their on. Two [ to Avig- ; be done, ► mothers Avignon, On their made for d worthy bishop of ^, to con- Hainault. m-ghersh, kingdom the ilkis- rs of the gular his le count, and give Philippa ;he royal dciate on ther and ion, soon England rrived in isplay of of her lainault, id not the sgrace with ter without \g\\ enough jidored she uiographj . and not by her father, as was expected. A solemn proces- sion of the clergy introduced her into the city, and she was presented by the lord mayor and aldermen of London with a service of plate worth 300/., as a marriage gift, — a benefaction prompted, most likely, by the gratitude of the citizens for a treaty of commerce established between England and the Low Countries in the preceding summer, when these nuptials were first publicly agitated. The king was still with his army in the north, York being his head-quarters ; and though London was in an uproarious state of rejoicing at the arrival of the young queen, she set out immediately to meet her lord. But there were feastings and sumptuous entertainments in London for three weeks after her landing. Philippa passed New year's day at the abbey of Peter- borough. She was escorted on her northern journe; by the cousin-german of the king, John Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex, and lord high-constable. An alarming riot oc- curred at the abbey owing to the tyranny of Hereford, who, when Philippa was about to depart, seized by violence on a little child, Godfrey de la Marck, under the protection of the abbot of Peterborough, and, claiming him as the son of one of his vassals, carried him off in the royal cortege.^ No other adventures of the queen's bridal progress are recorded : the dismal season and bad roads made it tedious. The royal marriage did not take place until January the 24th, 1327-8, when the hands of Edward and Philippa were united at York minster. The magnificence of the espousals was heightened by the grand entry of a hundred of the principal nobility of Scotland, who had arrived in order to conclude a lasting peace with England, cemented by the marriage of the king's little sister, Joanna. The parliament and royal council were likewise convened at York, and the flower of the English nobility, then in arms, were assembled round the young king and his bride. The royal pair kept Easter at York, and after ' Bishop Patrick's Hist, of Petcrhorougli, p. 41. This orphan's legitimacy was disputed by his sisters, and the abbot, di'euiing his hfc in danger, gave hiui ,.... ,_ ,1„^ UlllJll LllC LI ini WHO UClJiUCU. ivtx Llir " child to his place of refuge ; the cause of young Godfrey was gained, and the iibbot married him to a ueighbouring knight's daughter. N N 2 548 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. the final peace with Scotland they returned southward fi'om Lincoln to Northampton, and finally settled, in June, at the beautiful summer palace of Woodstock, which seems the prin- cipal abiding-place of Philippa while her young husband was yet under the tutelage of Mortimer and the queen-mother. A dead silence is kept in all the public documents regard- ing the amount of Philippa's portion, — for reasons good, since the queen-mother had already spc . it it. As for the usual dower of the queens of England, the whole of its lands were possessed by the queen-mother; but by a deed, executed at Northampton,* May 5th, " the king," says the venerable father, Roger bishop of Lichfield and Coventry, " had pro- mised that 15,000/. per annum of lands should be settled on her." Queenborough was part of the young queen^s dower ; the Saxon kings had a strong castle there called Kyngborough, on a rising ground commanding a fine view over the Thames. Edward III. pulled down the ruins, and began a palace for his queen, meant to facilitate their frequent visits to her native country : he changed the name of the place to Queenborough, in compliment to her. Philippa's palace in the Isle of Sheppey was not finished till near the close of her life. Nothing re- mains of it now, excepting a few crumbling walls just above the, soil, some indications of the donjon, mount, and an old well.^ Isabella provided so well for herself and her daugliter- in-law, that she left her son, the sovereign of England, nearly penniless. After assisting at the marriage of his niece. Sir John of Hainault returned to his native country, laden with jewels and rich presents. Few of the Hainaulters who had escorted her to England stayed with queen Philippa ; but among those who remained was a youth, named sir Wantelet de Mauny,' whose office was to carve for her. The coronation of the young queen did not take place till more than two years after her marriage. The king, from his palace at Eltham, issued a summons, dated the 28th of February, 1330, " for his beloved Fcedera, vol. iv. 2 It was completely destroyed by Cromwell, T^UJ^ .,**„« J„«*. ^fi iJi.;i: :_ ..:_ wt^m. — txt — ...,i„ xiiia (luuciiuniiu ui v|uccu X uiiippu 10 Sir «T uitci' luuuuy, au cele- brated as one of the first knights of the Garter. i' PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 549 ward from line, at the IS the prin- isband was ■mother, its regard- ^ood, since the usual lands were xecuted at venerable ^ had pro- settled on a's dower; Lgborough, le Thames, palace for her native inborough, )f Sheppey othing re- just above nd an old daughter- England, ir John of ith jewels d escorted long those B Mauny/ Dn of the rears after 1, issued a lis beloved >romwell. my, 30 eele- and faithful Bartholomew de Burghersh to appear with his barons of the Cinque-ports, to do their customary duties at the coronation of his dearest queen, Philippa, which takes place, if God be propitious, the Sunday next to the feast of St. Peter, in the cathedral of Westminster." ' It took place on that day with no particular splendour, for the rapacity of Isabella and Mortimer had absorbed all the funds provided to support the dignity of the crown. But the period of their sway drew near its close : the young lion of England had already manifested signs of disdain at the ignoble restraint in which he was held. Parliament was summoned that spring at Woodstock, whither Philippa and her royal lord had retired after the coronation. A singular document^ is dated from thence the succeeding April, . in which the king informs his treasurer, " that his faithful and beloved Robert de Vere, being earl of Oxford, was hereditary chamberlain to the queens of England ; at all coronations the ancestors of the earl had officiated in the same capacity, and that in consequence he clain ed the bed in which the queen had slept, her shoes, and three silver basins, — one in which she washed her head,^ and two others in which she washed her hands. And the king desires that the earl may freely receive the basins and the shoes ; but as for the bed, the treasurer is to pay the earl-chamberlain a hundred marks as a compensation for his claim thereon." While the young king was yet under the dominion of his unworthy mother, his consort Philippa gave birth to her first- bom, afterwards the celebrated hero Ed\^- -rr), smTiamed the Black Prince. He first saw the light at the pa u « \; of Woodstock, June 15, 1330. The great beauty of this infant, liis size, and tlie firm textm-e of his limbs, filled ever) one with admiration ^^ ho saw him. Like that renowned queen-regent of France, Blanche of Castile, mother of St. Louis, Philippa chose to nourish her babe at her own bosom. It is well known that the portraits of the lovely young Philippa and her princely boy formed the favourite models for the Virgin and Child at that era. ! * iiiUWuru 111. t'iiiuni i\t)ii», loox. ~ Ji' uduern., \ui. IV. ^i. -ru\j, ^ 'Fiice' would be more likely, but the a(!tual ^\old is capUin, m 550 PniLIPrA OF HAINAULT. In Older to celebrate the birth of the heir of England, a grand tournament was proclaimed at London. Philippa and all the female nobility were invited to be present. Thirteen knights were engaged on each side, and the tournament was held in Cheapside, between Wood-street and Queen-street : the highway was covered with sand to prevent the horses' feet from slipping, and a grand temporary tower was erected, made of boarding, filled with seats for the accommodation of the queen and her ladies. But scarcely had this fair company entered the tower, when the scaflPolding suddenly gave way, and all present fell to the ground with the queen. Though no one was injured, all were terribly frightened, and grcnt confusion ensued. When the young king saw the peril of Lis wife, he flew into a tempest of rage, and vowed that the care- less carpenters who had constixicted the building should in- Btimtly be put to death. Whether he would thus far have stretched the prerogative of an English sovereign can never he known, for his aijgelic partner, scarcely recovered from the terror of her fall, threw herself on her knees before the in- censed king, and so effectually pleaded for the pardon of the poor men, that Edward became pacified, and forgave them. In the dechne of the year 13JJ0, Edward III. shook off the restraints imposed upon him by his unworthy mother and her ferocious paramour. He executed justice on the great criminal Mortimer in the summary and hasty way in which he was always inclined to act when under the impulse of passion, and at a distance from his queen. No one can wonder that he was impatient to destroy the murderer of his fiither and of his uncle. StiU this eagerness to execute sudden vengcaiue under the influence of rage, whether justly or unjustly excited, is a trait in the character of this mighty sovereif^u wliicli ap])cara in his youth, and which it is necessary to point out in order to develope the beautifid and nearly perfect cliaractcr of his queen. No sooncT were the reins of government in the hands of the young king, than he vigorously exei-ted himself for the r(>f«»n»iiifi()ii of the abuses km Mnuii ♦',>., ..i.;-]. Liu; ridiiiiiiistnition of Mortimer was infiinious : many excellent laws Mere made, ar.d England, a 'hilippa and Thirteen lament was leen-strect : horses' feet ected, made ition of the r company '• gave way, Thoiigli and grcnt peril of iiis it tl:e care- should in- s far have in never be I from the ore the in- Jon of the e them, ook off the er and her at criminal 2\i he was Df passion, onder that her and of vengcaiue " unjustly ■ sovereign y to point •ly perfect ! hands of If for the •tmtion of made, and PIIILirrA OF IIAINAULT. 00 51 others revived, to the great satisfaction of the Englisli people. But, above all things, the king had the wisdom to provide a profitable occupation for the active energies of his people. " Blessed be the memory of king Edward III. and Philippa of Hainault, his queen, who first invented clothes," says a monastic chronicler. Start not, gentle reader; the English wore clothes before the time of this excellent queen. The grateful monk, by tins invocation, merely means to imply that, by her advice, the English first mtmufactured cloih^ Philippa, young as she was, well remembered the sources of prosperity which enriched her own country. She established a manufacturing colony at Norwich in the year 1335 ; but the first steps towards this good work were commenced so early as the 3rd of July, 1331, within a few months of the assumption of power by the youthful king. A letter so dated, from Lincoln, is addressed to John Kempe of Flanders, cloth- weaver in wool, in which he is informed, "That if he Will come to England with the sen'ants and apprentices of his mystery, and Miih his goods and chattels, and with any dyers and fullers who may be inclined wiUingly to accompany liim beyond seas, and exercise their mysteries in the kingdom of liUgland, they shall have letters of protection, and assistance ill their settlement." ^ Philip[)!i occasionally visited Kempe and the rest of her colony in Norwich. Nor did she disdain to blend all the magnificence of chivalry with her i)atronage of the productive arts. Like a beneficent queen of the hive, she cherished and jn-otcctcd the working bees. At a period of her life, which ' A nioro coherent notice of this groat lienctit t« EnRlund is given by Fuller, who (k'Hni'H the ilillcn'iice between a iMi.storil mid a niainiraetvwiiig land in his tiriunl iuiprcssivo ihoiigh quaint style. " 'i'lie kinj;, having married I'hilipjui the (hnghter of (he eiu'l of Hainault, k'gan now to grow sensible of the givat gain tiio Netherlands gat by our English w(H)I, in memory whereof the duke of l{urg>n\dy, u century atler, instituted the order of the Golden Fleece, wherein iniUvtl the tleece was oui-s, b\it the gold tlieirs, so vast was their emoluniont by the trade of clothing. Our king therefore resolved, if jxisHible, to reduce the trade to his own eoimtryiuiii, who as yet were ignorant, aa knowing no more what to do with their wool than the sheej) that bore it." ' lAedera. Probably the name of .loliii KenijM' is derived from comb, (that Jiiiitruniont Ih'Iui' iised in his e!!!>>!(>v!>!e!>tj^ and nioium ' John of thn (Joinb,' ua the old Kugiish of the verb ' to annb' in io kemjie. Kempo wu the pntriuidi uf the Norwich woollen nmnufuctures. 552 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. in common characters is considered girlhood, she had enriched one of the cities of her reahn by her statistic wisdom. There was wisdom likewise in the grand tournaments she held at Norwich, which might be considered as exhibitions showing the citizens how well, in time of need, they could be protected by a gallant nobility. These festivals displayed the defensive class and the productive class in admirable union and beneficial intercourse, while the example of the queen promoted mutual respect between them. Edward III. did not often take part in these visits to Norwich, which were generally paid by the queen while her husband spent some days with his guilty and miserable mother at Castle-Rising, in Norfolk ;' a strong proof that he did not consider her a fit companion for Philippa. The house in which his queen usually sojomTied was long pointed out by the grateful inhabitants of Norwich : its site is not forgotten at the present day. As the most interesting comment on the lasting benefits conferred by the illustrious consort of the third Edward on Norwich, when she assisted its inhabitants to compete with her countrymen in the manufactures from which she knew the wealth and importance of those princely merchants were derived, we take leave to subjoin the testimony of a gentle- man* who contributes in no slight degroo to the prosperity of the metropolis of oiu* enstem counties, and whose school of design has carried the fine arts in wool and silk to a degree of perfection which no foreign loom can surpass. The dearly purchased lam-els of Cressy and Poicticrs have faded to the mere abstract memory of the militaiy prowess of the victorious ' See tlie prcooding biopfriipliy. ' TIjc followini? letter from Mr. lllaki'U'y, in answer to our inqniriffl rrpnrdiiiff the building mlU'd in Norwich ' (puvn Philippa's house,' will justify, in t!io most priK'tical m inner, the ])raiso8 wo have In'stowod on tlmt queen, niul nfliml information resjHtrmp it. " The citizens of Novwicli are esjx'cinlly indebtctl to the g(XMl queen l'liili]i])H for her condescension in introducini; iind promoting; nuinufiictiu'cs, wliich for five centuries have ftirnished wealth and employnjcnt to H lnrgt> jwrtioii of its inhahitiints. Should you ever honour us with a visit, Mn. ninkeley will l)e (rratified in conducting you to tlic sjiot (now ro iin«wib!tf rpf her to see the extjuisite tcxtiire, coloiu's, and jmttenis of souie of tlie Norwich shawls and dresses that huvo been recently pr, fuliu liUt. 554 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. Edward I. The king knew that the Douglas was no trifler in any work he took in hand; he therefore resolved, by a desperate blow, to take Berwick, and march to relieve his queen from the attacks of the Scottir.h regent. He certainly gained Berwick from the stunned and paralysed father, but by the murder of the hapless youths he for ever stained his chivalric name. Douglas and Edward joined battle not far frorn Berwick soon after, and the Scots were overpowered at the disastrous battle of Halidon- Hill. Edward, with his queen, afterwards triumphantly entered Berwick, which has ever since remained annexed to the English crown.* Edward and Philippa were in England during the winter of 1334. At the palace of Woodstock, on February the 5th, the queen brought into the world Elizabeth* (likewise called Isabella), the princess-royal. The queen undertook another campaign in the succeeding spring. That year her father sent king Edward a present of a rich helmet, made of gold and set with precious stones, with a remonstrance against Avastlag his strength in Scotland, where there was no plunder to be got, when the same expense would prosecute his claims on France. The queen this winter became the mother of a second princess, named Joanna. Phihppa followed her lord to a third northern campaign. Her second son, William of Hatfield, was bom in a village in Yorkshire, in the winter of 1336 : this infant lived but a few weeks.'' In the absence ' Edward Ikliol ir.vaded Scotland with the En^lifli urniy, havinj? first sent a civil r.u'ssnjyc to yoima; kinjif David, offering to Hccure to him the fiuuily CHtatoHof the Hruce if he woii'd Hurrendcr to him Iub kingdom and his wife, the young siHter of king Kdward. To this nuxlest recpust the Scotch council (for the gallant Doughw lost his lif'i at Halidon) replied hy winding their young king and <|ueen ffr mifcty to Vnmce, and prcimring to defend their kingtloni to the last pi8)>. ,'• nie authors dechjre (hat, atler this ccaupiest, Edward kei)t his Christmas at Hoxhtngh with his quetui, but liis government acts are dated in Jamuiry at VVallingfonl. (luthrie. ' The nriiues of Isabella and Elizabeth were synonynams m the middle ages, to the confusithi of history and genealogy, •' Tlie accounts of the funeral esjH'Jises of this infant, who was buried in York cathednd, are ciiriouH fciitures in the wardrolH'-lM)ok of liis father: " ]\VM). I'aid for different mtiMses alMtut the Inxly of lord WiU'ani, son to the king, deceawd ; like, ise for the jinrchase of three hundred aial ninety-three iwauids of wax, hwTVii niiiiid ilie prince's corjjse at l.iittield, I'ontefract, and York, where he was buried, and for three clotht. of gold, diapered, to be })laced over the said coqise and tondi ; also for a hood for the face, and for webs, linen, aiul hearses, March Urd, PIIILIPPA OF HAINAULT. KK no trifler ed, by a jlieve his certainly ;r, but by lined his 3 not far wered at is queen, iver since winter of the 5th, 3e called another er father of gold 5 against plunder is claims [ler of a her lord illiam of k^inter of absence first sent a y C8tutfi8 of tho younp il (for tlio ; king and o tlie laHt ('lir'mtniaw anuary at Ir ages, to (1 in York a;u5. raid (U'ccawi'd ; H of wax, TV lio wiw iiid corjwj' arcit \in\, of Edward, the Scotch war was prosecuted by his only brother, John earl of Cornwall, wii-n great cruelty j this young prince died at Perth, October the 5th, of a wound which he received in his ferocious attack on Lesmahago.' • inr -' « \Hi innocent IV., givin^ permission to Elvinor of l*roveuc«, queen of Henry III., to lodge in Cistwtian runveuts of men : d;vt«, 1250. 556 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. • which he carried o\ his warfare. The English people chose always to be at war, but they expected their monarchs to find tLf? r; 3t out of their private revenues and feudal dues, which wfi* ' oortainly not sufficient for the purpose. Edward was reaa. ed to extreme poverty, even in the comme.iceraoii of his long war, and obliged to pawn his queen's crown at Cologne for 2,500/., in the year 1339. Soon after tie E].:?;U8h i^eople submitted, not to a tax on wool, but o tax o/ wocjI. f^nd 'sub- scribed 30,000 packs of that ^ommod ty,^ wiiifh, being seno down the Rhine to Cologne, redeemed Ihilippa s best crown from thraldom. Duriuji the mIu ,■: of this reijrn the cro\ra jewels were seldom oivi oi pawn, not\\ithstanding the vea] .h that the infant manufactm? of clo \^as already drawing to the coasts of Eii.'iand. The prosperity t'lai the queen';. ^ iloiiy of I'Jeis. "hit artiste had biought to Norv;ic}i had been felt so early iis ;.}'?j, ' lien Fniiippa paid that city a visit dming her husband's progj'(.. PHII.IPPA OF HAINAIILT. 557 vast number of Norwich p'^ople who, having been apprentices of Kempe and his follov ers, were estabUshing themselves in the profitable trades of weaving and dyeing. She was received with great joy, and favoured the citizens with her presence from February to Ea^jter.' At the festivities of that season her royal lord held a grand tournament at Norwich, where he tilted in person. In the spring of the same year Phihppa again sailed for the opposite coast, and estabhshed her court at Ghent. King Edward, in the mean time, cruised between England and Holland, where he had a fleet of upwards of three hundred ships. Phiiippa gave birth to her fourth son at Ghent, on Midsummer-day, 1340, at the very time that her warlike lord was fighting his great naval battle off Blankenbm'g. Next day the king landed at Sluys, unpatient to embrace his queen and her infant, and bring Phihppa tidings of the greatest naval victory the Enghsh at that time had ever gained over France. Philippa's boy was John of Gaunt, afterwards so renowned as duke of Lancaster. The interference of the mother of Phiiippa about this time occasioned a temporary cessation of hostilities between France and England.'^ This princess, just as the belligerents were about to engage before Toumay, went to her son-in-law, and then to her brother, king Philip, and kneehng before them, implored them to make peace, and stop the effusion of Christian blood.^ The pacification thus effected by the mother of queen Phiiippa for awhile put a stop to this kin- died wartare. It Avas indeed time, for both the mighty ' Hardynp. ' Froissart. Joanne of Valois had rotirod into a convent after the death of her husband, the count of Huinault. This retreat was fired by the troops of her luother, king Philip, in this war, • The relationship between Edward's queen and the competitor for the throne of France was near ; rho w;w both his niece and name-child, and the veneration Uial K" i,-!v^ ', ]ior mi ,»<• bor!? to king Philip were excessive. The motives thiit pro" '; ctigago, are perfectly consistent with tlie spirit of the 1 . !,, Kiiddle ages. Her kinsman, king I' i tw! nativities of i'liilip and fcidward. >bei i of Sicilv. a royal astr doger, had ca'^t .id dc>/iared that lii' foresa'v the discomfiture Or the King uf Frftni-v, if !,_ i>, i.i. :.._* 1.:.. «:.,.,i cvur lie luu^iii ti^ni'isu tu.i mtcu. ■ in... i»^4..._ „e u;,,^ Robert,, alarming the sisicrly fears of tlie countess Joanne, induced lier inter- fen nee. At Tournay, Edward wum cndeuvouiiiig to provoke Philip hitoaper* C58 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. Edward and his faithful queen were literally in a state of bankruptcy. She had given up her crown, and all the jewels she possessed, which her royal lord had pawned to the Flemish merchants ; but his wants were still so great, that to raise a further sum he likewise pawned the person of his valiant kinsman, the earl of Derby,^ who actually gave himself up to personal restraint, while Edward stole away with his queen, and the child she nourished, to Zealand. Here he embarked with Philippa and the infant John of Gaunt, attended by a few servants. The ship was small, the weather stormy, and the royal passengers were in frequent danger of losing theii lives : however, at midnight, December 2, 1340, they landed safely on Tower-wharf Here the king found that three nurses, and the rest of the royal children, constituted the sole garrison of his regal fortress of the Tow'^r : the careless con- stable, Nicholas de la Beche, had decamped that evening to visit a lady-love in the city, and his warders and soldiers, following so good an example, had actually left the Tower to take care of itself.^ 1 lie great Edward, who was not in the mildest of tempers, owing to the untoward state of his finances, took possession of the fortress of his capital in a towering rage. As his return was wholly unexpected, the sonal combat. This excellent method of determining a succession-war Philip declined, because the cartel was not directed to the king of France. Upon this, the whole English camp cried out on the cowardice of Philip, and a poet belonging to Edward, possessing more loyalty than Latin, wrote the following couplet, — " Si valeas, venias, Valois ! depelle timorem Non lateas ; pateas ; moveas. Ostende vigorem.'* Which may be rendered, " Valois, be valiant ! vile fear can't avail thee j Hide not, avoid not, let not vigour fail thee.* Edward, who had himself sent a rhyming declaration of war to Philip, swore " these were valiant verses," and caused them to be f .stened to an arrow, and shot into Philip's encampment. * Carte. (Juthrie. Caley's Fccdcra. He remained in prison, being detained by Matthew C(m(unen and partners, merchants of the firm of the Ijeoj)ard. Edward obtained 8up])lies of his parliament next year by declaring " that if ho was not enabled to redeem his honour and his cousin the earl of Derby, he would go to Fliuulers, and surrender his royal i)erson to his creditors." In answer to this ai)]>eid, the connnoiis granted the fleece of the ninth sheep and the ninth lamb througlior.t England : coin seemed to be as scarce with the subjt^cts as witli tlieir royal master and mistress. ^ Froissart, and several clirouiclers. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 659 state of le jewels Flemish ) raise a J valiant elf up to s queen, mbarked 3ed by a my, and ing their y landed lat three . the sole less con- ening to soldiers. Tower to ot in the e of his ital in a ted, the war Pliilij) Upon this, belonging couplet, — liilip, swori' arrow, and ig detainod e Leojjard. that if ho y, ho would X answer to 1 the ninth ,.4^a .... ...Ul. consternation of constable de la Beche may be supposed, when he had concluded his city visit. It was well for the careless castellan that the gentle Philippa was by the side of her incensed lord at that jimcture. About this time, the heart of the mighty Edward swerved for awhile from its fidehty to Phihppa, and had not the royal hero been enamoured of a lady of exemplary virtue, the peace of the queen might have been for ever destroyed. Sir Wil- liam Montacute had been rewarded for the good service he did the king in the beginning of his reign, by the title of the earl of Salisbury. He had married the fair Katheiine de Granson,' and received the castellanship of Wark-castle, whither he had taken his comtess, who hved in retirement away from the court. In the mean time Salisbmy had been captiu-ed in the French war. His castle in the north, which ^yas defended by his countess and his nephew, was besieged in the second Scottish war by king David. When in great danger, yomig Montacute, by a bold personal adventure, car- ried the news of the distress of the countess to king Edward, who was encamped near Berwick. At the approach of Ed- wiu'd, the king of Scots raised the siege of Wark. The royal iiero's interview with Katherine the Fair follows, in the words of Froissart : — " The moment the countess heard of the king- c? approach, she ordered all tlie gates to be throy\ii open, and went to meet him most richly (bessed, insomuch that no one could look at her but with wonder and admiration at her noble deportment, gi'eat beauty, and affabihty of behaviour. W^hen she came neiu* king Edward, she made her obeisance to the ground, and gave him thanks for coming to her assistance ; and then conducted him into the castle, to entertain and * In Milles' Catalogue of Honour, the parentage of the countess of Sail.,' clearly traced. She was the daughter of William de Griinson, a KurgUiiOiaii knight of imperial lineage, a favourite of Edmund carl of Lancaster, who pre- vailed on Sihyl, heiress of lord Tregose of Wilt.shire, to marry his friend, (iranson possessed nothing in the world but a handsome person and a very doTibtful pedigree, derived from the emperors of Constantinople. Katherine the Fair was the only child of this couijIo, and was endowed richly with her mother's wealth and her father's beauty She bestowed iKith on the brave earl of Salisbury. Dugdald cc. •' '^ this ac'« Katheviuw r'.. ^, .ndison; of tJ)is luime, Grusou, or Granson, is uu evident abbre* viuiiun. 560 PHILirPA or HAINAULT. honour him, as she was very capable of doing. Every one was delighted with her; but the king could not take his eyes off from her, so that a spark of fine love struck upon his heart, which lasted a long time, for he did not believe that the whole world produced any other lady so vorthy of being beloved. Thus i\(ry entered the castle, hand in hand. The countess led r iiu .ivf , to the hall, and then to the best chamber, which was very richly furnished, as belonging to so fine a lady. King Edward kept his eyes so fixed upon the countesss, that the gentle dame was quite abashed. After he had suffi- ciently examined his apartment, he retired to a window, and, leaning on it, fell into a pxoiound rev^iie. " The countess left him to order dinner to be made ready, and the tables set, and the hall ornamented and set out; likewise to welcome the knights and lords who accompanied the king. When she had given all the orders to her servants she thought needful, she returned with a cheerful countenance to king Edward, and said, ' Dear sir, what are you musing on? Such meditation is not proper for you, saving yoin* grace. You ought rather to be in high spirits, having freed England from her enemy without loss of bloo^.' The king replied, ' Oh, dear lady ! you must know that, since I have been % in this castle, seme thoughts have oppressed my mind that I was not before aware of; so that it behoves me to reflect. Being uncertain what may be the event, I cannot withdraw my attention.' — 'Dear ■'ir, answered the lady, 'you oaght to be of good cheer, Mi)d feast with your friends, to give them more pleasure, u, d lea e off pi dering ; for God has been very bountiful to you in your undertakings, so that you are the most feared t: c! renowned prince i^> Christendom. If tlic king of Scotimd have veu'd you by the mischiefs he hatli done in your kingdom, yon will speedily be able to make reprisals in his domini- us. Therefore come, if it please you, into the hall to your i 'j:ht , for dinner will soon be served.' — ' Oh, sweet lady !' s-itl km^^ Edward, ' there be other things which touch my heart, and lie heavy there, than what you talk o£ For, in good truth, your beauteous mien and tlic perfections of your face and behaviour have wholly overcome Every one ot take his ;k upon his telieve that ly of being land. The st chamber, so fine a le countess, lc had sufii- indow, and, nade ready, tid set out; ccompanied tier servants countenance y^ou musing saving your laving freed The kiiif; 1 have been mind that I e to reflect, i^ithdraw niv oaght to be i them more s been verv you are the )m. If tlic iefs he hatli le to make : please you, 1 be served.' other things m what you lien and the lly overcome PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 561 me. , and so deeply impress i heart, that my happiness wholly depends on meeting a im to my flame, which no denial from you can ever extinguish.' — ' Oh ! my dread lord/ replied the countess, ^ do not amuse yourself by laughing at me with trying to tempt me, for I cannot believe you are in earnest as to what you have just said. Is it likely that so noble and gallant a prince as you are would ever think of dis- honouring either me or my husband, a valiant knight, who has served you so faithfully, and who now lies in a dolefiil prison on your account ? Certainly, sir, this would not redound to your glory; nor would you be the better for it, if you could have your wayward will.' " The virtuous lady then quitted the king, who was asto- nished at her words. She went into the haU to hasten dinner ; afterwards she approached the king's chamber, attended by all the knights, and said to im, ' My lord king, your knights are all waiting for you, to wash their hands ; for they, as well as yourself, have fasted too long.' King Edward left his apartment and came to the hall, where, after he had washed his hands, he seated himself with his knights at the dinner, as did the ludy also; but the king ate very little, and was the whole time pensive, casting his eyes, whenever he had the opportiiiiity, on the countess. Such behaviour surprised his . tids; for they were not accustomed to it, never having seen the Uke before in their king. They supposed it was his chagrin the departure of the Scots without a battle. The king remained at the castle the whole day, without knowing what to do with himself. Thus did he pass that day and a sleepless night, debating the matter within his own heart. At daybreak he rose, drew out his whole army, raised bis camp, and made ready to follow the Scots. Upon taking leave of the countess, he said, ' My dear lady, God preserve you safe till I return ! and I pray that you will think well of what I have said, and have the goodness to give me a diiferent answer.' — ' My gracious liege,' replied the countess, ' God of his infinite goodness preserve you, and drive from your noble neart sucn \illanous thoughts ; for I am, uuu ever BlliiXJ. UC, ready to serve you, but only in what is consistent with my VOL. I. « '^ 562 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. honour and with yours/ The king left her, quito astonished at her answers." The love of kiug Edward Whi -itred from queen Philippa but for a short time ; yet it was owing to the high principles of Katherine the Fair that he never swerved into the commission of evil.' Queen Philippa, attired in the august robes of the new order of the Garter,^ and attended by the ladies whom the gallantry of king Edward associated with his knights,^ assisted her royal lord in holding the first chapter at Windsor, on St George's-day, 1344. She made her third and last visit to ^ Though he appears still to have cherished a chivalric and heroic attachment for the countess, he soon showed that he had resigned what she very properly told hiin were " villanous thoughts." In proof of this fact we find him, directly, making a two years' truce with the king of Scotland, one of the conditions of which was, " that king David should undertake a negotiation with his ally, the king of France, to exchange the earl of Moray, a prisoner of king Edward, for the earl of Salisbury," then in captivity in the dismal towers of the Chatelet. — Froissart, vol. i., p. 297. ^ The story that the origin of this order, the order of the Garter, took its rise from an accident that happened to the countess of Salisbury's dress when diincing with king Edward III., must be untrue, since we have seen that the knights of tie Blue Garter were confederated by Coeur de Lion long before the countess was born ; therefore the Garter was a part of the order that had been devised many years previously to the era of king Edward. But that the countess of Salisbury was considered the heroine of tlie newly revived order, we have the express worci of Froissart, as follows : " You have all heard how passionately king Edward was smitten with the charms of that noble lady, Katherine coimtess of Salisbury. Out of affection to the said lady, and his desire to see her, he proclaimed a great feast in August 1343. He commanded all his own lords and knights should be there without fail, and he expressly ordered the earl of Salisbury to bring the lady his wife, with as many young ladies as she could collect to attend her. Tlie eai'l very cheerfiilly compUed with the king's request, for he thought no evil, and his good lady dared not say nay. She came, however, much against her will, for she guessed the reason which made the king so earnest for her attendance, but was d^id to discover it to her husband, intending, by her conduct and conversa- tion, to make the king change his opinion." Froissart likewise adds, " that all the ladies and damsels who assisted at the first convocation of the order of the Garter came superbly dressed, excepting the countess of Salisbury, who attended the festival dressed as plainly as possible : she did not wish the king to admire her, for she had no intention to obey him in any thing evil that might tend to the dishonour of her dear lord." Froissart's repetition of the expression " any thing evil," is certainly in allusion to the mysterious motto of the order ; indeed, the words of this motto are a mere variation of the same words in the French copies of Froissart. ^ For several ages after the institution of the order of the Garter, every knight wag accompanied by his lady, who was considered to belong to it. Sir Harris Nicolas, in his admirable vvork on the order of the Garter, fully proves that the ladies of the knights wore its batlge. Several monuments still exist where it may be seen. Among others, the monumental statue of lady Harcourt, at Stanton- PHILIPPA OP HAINAULT. 563 astonished lered from ing to the er swerved ►f the new whom the ts/ assisted Isor, on St ist visit to oic attachment ! very properly 1 him, directly, ! conditions of h his ally, the g Edward, for ihe Chatelet. — er, took its rise IS when d,incing the knights of he countess was I devised many ess of Salisbury 3 express words ig Edward was ss of Salisbury, claimed a great ights should be ry to bring the ttendher. Tlie ght no evil, and nst her will, for attendance, but it and conversa- adds, "that all le order of the y, who attended king to admire t might tend to xpression " any Border; indeed, in the French ;er, every knight it. Sir Harris nrnvfis that the I exist where it )urt, at Stanton- Norwich in the course of the same year, 1344, tradition says, accompanied by her son Edward prince of Wales, who dis- played his early prowess in chivalry by tilting at a tournament proclaimed at his mother's favourite East AngUan city. It is a matter still in dispute by the learned there, whether the queen lodged at the prior's country-house at Trowse-Newton, or at the monastery in the Close. But after her expulsion by the monks of Durham from her lodging in their monastery, it is most hkely she resided at the country-house, separately from her son or husband. She was entertained by the citizens of Norwich at an expense of 37/. 4>s. 6^c?.* Philippa kept the birth-day of her mighty lord with great festivity at Woodstock in the year 1345.' Here, in that sylvan palace, where she had spent the first years of her happy wedlock, did she find herself, in middle life, surrounded by a train of beautiful children, at the head of whom was Edward prince of Wales, then on the eve of winning his vast meed of renown. Phihppa's protege, Chaucer, has in these elegant lines described one lovely feature of the favourite retreat of his royal mistress. He speaks of a maple — " . . . . that is fair and green. Before the chamber windows of the queen At Woodstock." Harco^irt. displays the order of the Garter, with the celebrated motto on the left ana. bhe was bom a Byron, and married sir Robert Harcourt, elected^ knight in 1463. The effigy of the duchess of Suffolk, grand-daughter to Chaucer, at Ewelme church, has the garter and motto buckled round the left arm, not as an armlet, but as a' bracelet. The lady Tankerville, whose statue was lately at St. Katherine's by the Tower, had the same noble badge on her left arm. If the ladies companions of this noble order were restored according to the original institution of Edward III. and Philippa, how much splendour would such im- provement add to the court of our fair queen ! The Garter-robes of queen Phi- lippa are charged in the wardrobe accounts. Exchequer Rolls. ' Blomfield's Norwich. We owe thanks to the learned labours of Richard Hart, esq., who has caiefully sifted the evidences relative to the queen's visits to Norwiclu * Walsingham. oo2 PIIILIPPA OF HAINAULT, QUEEN OF EDTARD III. CHAPTER II. Queen Philippa left regent of Englnnd — Battle of Creasy — Queen's micles— Siege of Calais — Scotch invasion — Qu«>en defends Englimd — Queen's exlujrtation to the arniy— Her victory of Neville's-Cross — King David captured— (.^ueen re- turns to London — Siiils with many ladies to Calais — Burghers of Calais dimmed to death hy Edward- Phili])]m's intercession- Hirth of princess Margaret — Edward and Phili])pH return to England — Heti'othment of tlie (jueen's second daughter — Death of the princess— King Edward's letters — Queen's younger children — l'lnlii)pu's tournament at Norwich — Qiiton's objections to the mar- riage of the Hlack I'rince^ — Queer receives royal jjrisouers — Dialogue with J)u (Juesdiu ()>ieen goes to France— Marriage of tlie Hlack Prince- Queen's re- ception of King John at Kltham — Alliances of royal family — Philij)pa's fatal illness — 1 )enth-hed Tomb — Epita])h — Henefiu-tions — Queen's college, Oxford — Pensions to her women— Alice Perrers^C^ucen's supposed confession — Vir- tues of (pieen Philii)])u. In the first years of her marriage, qticcu Philippa had been the constant attendant on her husl)an(l in his campaigns ; the annals of the year 134() display her character in a more bril- liant light, as the sagacious ruler of his kingdom and the victorious leader of his army. After the order of the (Jartcr had been fidly established, king Edward nminded his valiant knights and nobles that, with him, tliey made a vow to assist distressed ladies ; he then specified that the countess de Montfort {.artundarly required the aid of his chivalry, for her lord was held in captivity by Philip de V^alois in the towers of the Louvre, while the countess was endeavouring to uphold the cause of her infant son against the whoU^ power of Fraju;e. He sig'.iricd his inteiitiou of giving his personal PHILIPPA OF IIATNAULT. 565 r-les — Siege (jrtation to (•iuecn re- laia dcHHiied ^Iiirparet — od's second I's younger ;o the nuir- le with I)u t)ueeii's re- ijjpa's fatal ge, Oxford sHion — Vir- ad been i?ns; the ore bril- aiul the p (Jarter s valiant to assist itess (Ic ilry, for in the ivourinfT ic power pergonal support to the heroic countess, and of leaving queen Philippa as regent of England during his absence. On St. John the Baptist's-day the king took leave of queen Philippa, appointing the earl of Kent as her assistant iiA the government of England. The name of her young son Lionel,' a child of eight years old, was associated with his mother in the regency. Philippa bade farewell to the darling of her heart, her son Edward, then in his sixteenth year. This young hero accompanied his royal sire, in order to win his spurs on the soil of France. The exploits of the heroic ])oy are well known ; but it is not quite so well known that he was opposed at the field of Cressy to his mother's nearest connexions, — to her uncle, Philip of Valois, and even to sir John of Hainaidt, that favourite relative who had ever been treated by the queen as if he were her father. In the true spirit of a mercenary soldier, sir John had left the service of his niece^s husband, in whose employment he had spent the best part of his life, merely because the king of France gave him a higher salary ! The first li^nglish military despatch ever written was addressed to queen Philippa and her council by ^lichael Northborough, king Edward's warlike chaplain : it contains a most original and graphic detail of the battle of Cressy. It is dated at the siege before the town of Calais, for the battle of Cressy was but an interlude of that famous siege. It was now Philippa's turn to do battle-royal with a king. As a diversion in favour of France, David of Scotland ad- vanced into England a fortnight afVer the battle of Cressy, and burned the suburbs of York. At this jiuu^ture Philippa herself hastened to the relief of her northern subjects. Frois- sart has detailed witii great spirit the brilliant coiidiu't of the (pieen at this crisis : *' The; (pieen of Kngland, who was very anxious to defend her kingdom, in order to show she was in earnest about it, came herself to Newcastle-upon-Tyne. She took up her residence there to wait for her forces. On the morrow the king of Scots, with full tbrty thousand men, advanced within three short miles of the town of Newcastle, LDurham]: he ncnt to inform the queen that. * W Jilt nujn ' This t'htUl sat on tho throne when iHirlianientu were held. «j :i 566 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. I, im were willing to come forth from the town, he would wait and give them battle/ Philippa answered, ^ That she accepted his offer, and that her barons would risk their lives for the realm of their lord the king/ " The queen's army drew up in order for battle at Neville's- Cross. Philippa advanced among them mounted on her white charger, and entreated her men to do their duty well in defending the honour of their lord the king, and m'ged them " for the love of God to fight manfully." They promised her " that they would acquit themselves loyally to the utmost of their power, and perhaps better than if the king had been there in person." The queen then took her leave of them, and recommended them "to the protection of (iod and St. George." There is no vulgar personal bravado of the fighting woman in the character of Phili})pa. Her courage was wholly moral courage, and her feminine feelings of mercy and ten- derness led her, when she had done all that a great (piccn could do by encouraging her army, to withdraw from tlu; work of carnage, and pray for her invaded kingdom wlr.le the battle joined. Tlie English archers gained the battle, whicii was forif-ht on the lands of lord Neville.' King David was taken ])ris()L'<'i' on his homeward retreat, ])ut not witliout making the most gallant resistance. " When the queen of England (wlio had tarried in Newcastle while the battle was fought) heard that her army had won the vicitory, she mounted on her white palfrey, and went to the battle-field. She was informtHl on the way that the king of Scots was the prisoner of a scjuire nanu'd John Copeland, who liad rode otf with him, no one knew whither.' The (puHMi ordered him to be soiiglit out, and told ' that he had done what was not agreeable to lier, • 'riu' S'lturtliiy iM'foro MifliuolmiiH-diiy, KUfi; tlftcfii tlionauiul ScoIm woro sliiiti. Tliorc is reason tosn])|M)solliat wlicrt' Fro'iHsiirt iimiu's Nowciistlc, llu- word slHUtld lu> Dtirliain. Hiiuv tlic Knglisli aniiy t'l't-taiuly niustcri'd iti the l)!slii)])'s ]mrk ut Aucklaiitl, aiu! Xi'villc's-CnwH ivHolfis diHtaiit lait (Hit' milo wi'st of Durham. - Kiii^litoii says lu- Ifxlp-d liiui in tlu' strong; fortrcsM of Haiiil>oroii^Ji. Kiii^; David wan di'Icniiiut'd to |»n)vokf (.Viiti'laml 1<» kill liiiii, knowing tii<' niisi-rii'M liis captivity W(aild cniiHO Iii« country. IHh rcsiMtancc wuh terrific ; lie dashed Lis irauntlct on Copland's ninntii when called on to surrender, and kiKH'ked out several uf Ilia tvctU. L'opuluiui kepi hiM temper, and aucceuleil in ci>pturtng him ulivc. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 567 nait and pted his le realm Feville's- er white well in ed them jromised 3 utmost ad been )f them, and St. fightinjj; s wholly iTul ton- it (juoen •om th(! 11 while I foTl^'ilt jH'isoiu-r lie most vho liad ird tliat r wliitc 'incd oil I scjuire no one ht out, to lier, i\'i'ro Kliiit). )nl slidtilil s jmrk ut rliaiii. Ii. Kiiij; iscrii'M liis la.slu>(I liiK ml Hcvi'iiil iiit itlive. in carrying off her prisoner without leave.' All the rest of the day the queen and her army remained on the battle-field they had won, and then returned to Newcastle for the night." Next day Philippa wTote with her own hand to John Cope- land, commanding him to surrender the king of Scots to her. John answered in a manner most contumacious to the female majesty then swaying the sceptre of England with so much ability and glory. He replied to Philippa, that " He would not give up his royal prisoner to woman or child,' but oidy to his own lord king Edward, for to him he had sworn allegiance, and not to any woman." There spokc^ the haughty spirit of feudality, which disdained to obey a female regent, although then encamped on a victorious field. The queen was greatly troubled at the obstinacy of this northern squire, and scarcely knew how to depend on the assurance he added, l)idding her knight tell the queen, " she might depend on his taking good care of king David." In this dilemma, Philipj)a wrote letters to the king her husband, which she sent oft' directly to Calais. In these letters she informed him of the state of his kingdom. The king then ordered John Copeland to come to him at Calais, who, lumng placed his prisoner in a strong castle in Northumberland, set out, and lauded near Calais. Wiicn the king of England saw the squire, he took bin liy the hand, saying, " Ha! welcome, my squire, who by thy valour hast captured mine adversary, the king of Scots!" John Cope- land fell on one knee, and replied, " If (lod, out of his great kindness, has given me the king of Scotland, and permitted nu! to conquer him in arms, no one ought to be jf^aloiis of it; for (lod can, if he pleases, send l.is grace to a poor s(juire au well as to a great lord. Sire, do not take it amiss if I did not surrender king David to the orders of my lady queen, for 1 hold my laiuls of j/ou, and not of her, and my oath is to you, and not to her, unless, nuleed, through choice." King lidward answered, " John, the loya! service you have done u«, and our esteem for your valour is so great, that it may well serve vou as an excuse, and shame fall on all those who bear you any ill-Mill. You will now return honu', and take yom* * i"ii5ipii.i wiis iwsoviatvjl with the younj? i'riii^} Lionel in the rrgimcy. M 111 If" «. !il{|; 568 PIIILIPPA OF HAINAULT. it* i« I, prisoner, the king of Scotland, and convey liim to my wife ; and by way of remuneration, I assign lands, as near your house as you can choose them, tc the amount of 500/. a-year, for you and your heirs/" John Copeland left Calais the third day after his arrival, and returned to England. When he was come home, he assembled his friends and neighboiu's, and, in company with them, took the king of Scots and carried him to York, where he presented him, in the name of king Edward, to queen Philippa, and made such excuses that she was satisfied. And great magnanimity Philippa displayed in being content with the happy result. How many women would have borne an inextinguishable hatred to John Copeland for a far less offence than reftising obedience to a delegated sceptre ! Philippa lodged David in the Tower of London : he was conducted, by her orders, in grand procession, through the streets, momited on a tall black war-horse, that everj^ one miglit recognise his person, in case of escape. Next day she sailed for Calais, and landed three days before All Saints.- The arrival of Philippa occasioned a stir of gladness in the besieging cam]). H(r royal lord held a grand court to welcome his victorious queen, aiul made a magnificent fete for her ladies. Philippa brought witli her the flower of the female nobility of England, many ladies being anxious to accompany her to Calais, in ordf-r to see fathers, husbands, and brothers, all engaged at this famous sioge. While (|ueen Philippa was encamped witli her loyal lord before Calais, the young count of Flanders, who had been kept by Edward in his army as a sort of captive, nin away to the king of France, to avoid his marriage engagements with th(^ princess- royal, — a circumstance which caused great grief and indignation to the (pieen and !ier family. Hut the conduct of tlie y<»ung lord of Flan(U'rs can scar(!ely excite wonder; for Kdward III., eertaiidy forgetting .ton metier dti roL v.as in a strung U'agne with the count's rebellions snbject, llie brewer \ on .Vi'tavelt, who, nudcr preten(;e of reform, had overturned ' {'I'jM'InTid wiw likewise iiiiule ii kiiijrlit-lmnnorot; lie wiw Hftrrwunls .slieriff of Niirtlmuiberhiml and wanlen of lU-rwlck. - Ucfeuk'r 2Ulh. mg PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 569 my wife; ear your I/, a-yoax, s arrival, lome, he any witli [•k, where to queen ed. And tent with borne an 38 offence Philippa icted, by mounted gnise his ilais, and Philippa p. H(r ictorioua Philippa [England, alais, in "•aged at \al lord lid been uwav to » its with \it fjrief conduct tier; for vas in a brewer vturned * ithoriir o'i the government of Flanders/ and delivered up its count to the king of England, the states of Flanders having betrothed him to the eldest daughter of Edwavd without consulting his inclinations.^ The young count at last requested an interview with his betrothed. What passed is not known, but the young couple seemed on the most friendly terms with each other ; and the queen, supposing the charms of the young Isabella had captivated ^he unwilling heart of count Louis, with her usual generosity requested he might be left unguarded, fancy- ing he would remain Isabella's willing ])risoner. But the escape of the count ibllowed soon after, to the great exasper- ation of Edward III. As Isabella afterwards made a love- match, the whole scheme had probably been concerted between her and her l)etrothed, for life, in the fourteenth century, was an acted romance. Meantime, the brave defenders of Calais were so much reduced by famine as to be forced to capitulate. At first Edward resolved to put them all to the sword. By tlie per- s,ia?4ions of sir Walter Manny he somewhat relaxed from hig bloody intentions. " He bade su' Walter," savs Froissart, " return to (Jalais with the following terms : ' Tell the governor of Calais that the garrison and inhabitants shall be })ardoned excepting six of the principal citizens, who must surrender themselves to death, with ropes round their necks, bareheaded and barefooted, bringing the keys of the town and castle in tiieir hands.' Sir Walter returned to the brave governor of Calais, John de Vienne, who was waiting for him on the bat- tlements, and tohl him all he had been able to gain from the kiug. The lord of A'ienue went to the market-place, and caused the bell to be rung, upon which all the iidiabitants assembled in the town-hall. He then related to them what he had said, and the answers he had received, and that he could not ol)t:un better conditions. Then they broke into lamentations of grief and despair, so that the hardest heart would have had compassion on them; and their valiant governor, ' Qu«H!n IMtilippii, when in Flundors, Ht<)ss, to have eoinpasuion on us.* ' Kiifrlisli Ir.ulition ds^'liires tJisit one of theso was the young sow of EustHco St. I'iorre. , the most s, rose up 36 pity to amine : it ur if such ar towns- ^ God. I itizens all on their se up, and was John in moncv i example lers' then lemanded id a small [conducted ir Walter, $ governor were, and ihabitants goodness )e put to ith them,^ lis, tliat I vcYC then )avilion of iited these and, with •e you six , and who 8urrend(M' er to save of Calais, nuU'Hcciul, us.* Ill i>f' Kiiafni'i' PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. )71 (( All the English barons, knights, and squires that were assembled there in great numbers, wept at this sight ; but king Edward eyed them with angry looks, for he hated mueh the people of Calais, because of the great losses he had suffered at sea by them. Forthwith he ordered the heads of the six citizens to be struck off. All present entreated the king to be more merciful, but h.^ would not listen to them. Then sir Walter Mauny spoke : ' Ah, gentle king ! I beseech you restrain your anger. Tarnish not your noble reputation by such an act as this ! Truly the whole world will cry out on your cruelty, if you should put to driath these six worthy persons.' For all this the king gave a wink to his marshal, and said, ' I will have it so ;' and ordered the headsman to be sent for, adding, ' the men of Calais had done him such damage, it was fit they suffered for it.* At this, the queen of England, who was very near her lying-in, fell on her knees before king Edward, and with tears said, ' Ah, gentle sir ! sithence I have crossed the sea with great peril to see you, I have never asked you one favour ; now I most humbly ask as a gift, for the sake of the Son of the blessed Mary, and as a proof of your love to me, the lives of these six men.' King Edward looked at her for some time in silence, and then said, 'Ah, lady ! I wish you had been anywhere else than here. You have entreated in such a manner, that I cannot refuse you. I therefore give them you : do as you please with them.' The queen conducted the six citizens to her apart- ments, and liad the halters taken from about their necks ; after which she new clothed tliem, and s(>rved them with a plentiful dinner. She then presented each witli six nobles, and had them escorted out of the camp in safety." The French historians, who, fVoui mortified national pride, liave endeavom-ed to invalidate this beautiful incident, pretend to do so by proving, as an inconsistency in the character of Philippa, that she took possession, a few days after the sur- render of ('ahiis, of the tenements belonging to one of her prok'ffes, John Daire. They have likewise impugned tlie p.itriotism of Eustace St. Pierre, because he remained in subject. But king Edward granted inl- y 1 1 • n 1 1 » Liuais as rjdxvarti s I 'I H] m . .1 't 1 572 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. m munity to all those who swore allegiance to him, and stayed in Calais ; while those who chose expatriation, like John Daire, forfeited their tenements, which they certainly could not take with them.* Now Froissart has ' hown that Edward presented his Calisian captives to his queen, to " do with them what she pleased." This transfer gave Philippa rights over their persons and property, which she used most generously in regard to the first, but retained her claims over the possessions in the town of those who refused to become subjects of her husband. The very fact, proved by deeds and 3harters, that Philippa became proprietress of John Daire^s houses, greatly authenticates the stv ement of Froissart. It would have been pleasant to record that Philippa restored the value of John Dairc's tenements ; but biography, unlike poetry or romance, seldom permits us to portray a character approaching perfection. Truth compels us to display the same person, by turns, merciful or ferocious, generous or acquisitive, according to the mutability of human passion. The philosophic observer of life will see no outrage on probability in the facts, that Philippa saved John Daire's life one day, and took possession of his vacated spoils the next week. " The king, after he had bestowed these six citizens on queen Philippa, called to him sir Walter Mauny and his two marshals, the earls of Warwick and Stafford, and said, ' My lords, here are the keys of Calais town and castle : go, and take pocyession.'" Directions were given for the castle to be prepared with proper lodgings for the king and queen. When this had been done, the king and queen mounted their steeds, and rode towards the town, which they entered with the sound of trumpets, drums, and all sorts of warlike instruments. The king re- mained in Calais til> the queen was brought to bed ot a daughter, named Margaret." Three days before Edward and Philippa returned to Eng- ' Kiistaoe was not a aokllcr, vowed to his banner, like the lord de Vicnne, but a burffliiT, attached by many pow erful ties to his town. He was lirnily loyal to his jirince while Philij) could extend kingly protection to his lieges at Calais'., but vhcn Philiji was forced to leave Calais to its fate, the same tiecessity obligeil Kus- tace to transfer liis allegiance. Exj)atriation is not the lM)unden duty of a citizen. ^ Froissart. The siege lasted from .Itme i;il(5, to August 13'17. \>'alsingham decliireskiiig Kdward spared the i)eople of Calais in life and limb, an observation land, Margi of the an ho At th of En with dispos closed But he woidd bcurcely liave made if the contrary had 5 lot been expooieu. d stayed m Daire, not take (resented what she [• persons rd to the the town iid. The L became jates the to record ements ; rmits us compels erocious, f human itrage on ire's life xt week, m queen larshals, lero are ession/" proper 11 done, towards urapets, dug re- ot a o Eng- enne, but loyal to ."alaif, but iptnl Eus- a citizen. iLsinghaui iscrviition PHIIJPPA OF HAINAULT. 573 land, the emperor Louis of Bavaria died, who had marrioa Marguerite of Hainault, her eldest sister. Towards the close of the same year, Edward was elected emperor of Germany, — an honour of which he very wisely declined the acceptance. At this time it was conside^on that the king and queen of England had tou^^^d the height of human prosperity ; with the exception \A the trifling disappointment in the disposal of the hand of her eldest daughter, the year 1347 closed most auspiciously for Philippa and her warlike lord. But the military triumphs of England brought with them some corruption of manners. Chroniclers note that tlie jewels which once decorated the nobility of France were transferred to the persons of the English ladies, who, out of compliment to the queen's successful generalship, and the personal heroism of the valiant countess of ^Montfort, her kinswoman, began to give themselves the airs of warriors ; they M'ore small jewelled daggers as ornaments at their bosoms, and their caps, formed of cambric or la^vn, were; cut like the aperture of a knight's helmet. But these objectionable caps brought their own punishment with them, being hideously imbccoming. The church was preparing suitable remon- strances against these unfeminine proceedings, when all pride, whether royal or national, was at once signally confounded by the awful visitation of pestilence which approached the shores of England, 1348. This pestilence .'as called emphatically, from its effects on the human body, ' dir^. black death.' Every household in London was smitten, and some wholly exter- minated : nor did Philippa's royal family escape, for the cruel pestilence robbed her of the fairest of her daughters, under circumstances of peculiar horror. The beauty and graces of the second daughter of Philippa, called the princess Joanna of V/oodstock, were such as to 1)6 the themes of every minstrel : she Wiis in her fifteenth year when Alphonso king of Castile demanded her in marriage for his heir, the infant Pedro, who afterwaids attained an unde- sirable notoriety under the name of Pedro the Cruel. The princess had been nurtured and educated by that virtuous lady Marie St. Pol, the widowed countess of Pembroke, to In I il '5 Jil 574 PHILirrA OF HAINAULT. I i! whose munificent love of learning Cambridge owes one of her noblest foundations.' As a reward for rearing and educatir, the young princess, king Edward gave the countess, her governess, tfi; luaiior of Stroud, in Kent, with many expre»- sioiis of gratitude, calling her " his dearest : j^nsin Marie de St. Pol."- The fair Joanna was spared the torment of be- coming the wife of the most fiirious man in Europe, by the more merciful plague of ' the black death.^ The royal bride sailed for Bourdeaux at the latter end of the summer of 1348, while her father-in-law, the king of Castile, travelled to the frontier city, Bayonne, with the infant don Pedro, to meet her. King Edward's loyal citizens of Bourdeaux escorted the princess Joanna as far as Bayonne, in the cathedral of which city she was to give her hand to Pedro. On the very even- ing of her triumphal entry into Bayonne the pestilence, out of all the assembled multitudes, seized on the fair young Plantagenet as a victim : it terminated her existence in a few hours. Her Spanish bridegroom, and the king his father, followed her funeral procession on the very day and hour that she was appointed to give her hand as a bride at the altar of that callif.dral wherein she was bm'ied. Thr deep grief of the parents of Joanna is visible in the Lati... }('tieis written by Edward III. to the king of Castile, to don I'cdro, and to the queen of Castile. If the Latinity of these letters will not bear the criticism of the classical scholar, they are, nevertheless, lofty in sentiment, and breathe an expression of parental tenderness seldom to be found in state- papers. " Your daughter and ours," he says to the queen of Castile, " was by nature wonderfully endowed with gifts and graces ; but little does it now avail to praise them, or specify tlie charms of that beloved one, who is — oh, grief of heart! — for ever taken from us. Yet the debt of mortality must be paid, however deeply sorrow may drive the thorn, and our hearts be transpierced by anguish. Nor will our sighs and tears cancel the inevitable law of nature. Christ, the celestial ' This latly had been rendered a widow on her bridal day, by her newly-wedded lord being kilhid at the tournament given in honour of his nuptials. The maiden widow never married again, but devoted her great wealth to charity and the pro- motion of learning. ^ Foedera, vol. v. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 575 me of her educatiri. itess, her ly expren- Marie de mt of be- )e, by the 3yal bride r of 1348, ed to the , to meet corted the I of which ierj even- ileiice, out air young ;ence in a his father, hour that tie altar of ble in the of Castile, latinity of al scholar, reathe an d in state- B queen of gifts and or specify if heart! — y must be , and our sighs and le celestial lewly-wcdded The maiden y mid the pro- V. spouse, has taken the maiden bride to be his spouse. She, in her innocent and immaculate years, has been Transferred to the virgin choir in heaven, where, for us below, she will perpetually intercede." The queen must have imagined that her royal and hand- some progeny was doomed to a life of celibacy, for extraordi- nary accidents of one kind or other ' ad lutherto prevented the marriages of her daughters. Her Ih roic son Edward had been on the point of marrying '^\c ' prim ses, without his I. A long attach- .- beautiful cousin rl of Kent, and the ity-fifth year, after nuptials ever being brought to a < ai, ment had subsisted between hi Joanna, daughter of his uncle, Es lady had remained unwedded till liei being divorced from the earl of Salisuury, to whom she had been contracted in her infancy. Queen Philippa had a gi'cat objection to her son's union with his cousin,' on account of the flightiness of the lady's disposition. After vaiidy hoping for the royal consent to her union with her cousin, Joanna gave her hand to sir Thomas Holland; but still the Black Prince remained a bachelor. After the grand crisis of the capture of Calais, Philippa resided cliicfly in England. Our country felt the advantage of the beneficent presence of its queen. Philippa had in her youth established woollen manufactures : she now turned her sagacious intellect towards working the coal-mines in Tynedale, — a branch of national industry whose inestimable benefits need not be dilated upon. The mines had been worked, with great profit, in the reign of Henry III., but the convulsions of the Scottish wars had stopped their pro- gress. Philippa had estates in Tynedale, and she had long resided in its vicinity during Edward's Scottish campaigns. It was an infallible result, that, wherever this great queen directed her attention, wealth and national prosperity speedily followed. Well did her actions illustrate her Flemish motto, Iche ivrude muche, which obsolete words may be rendered, ' Guthrie mentions the long celibacy of Joanna, * the fair maid of Kent,' pre- viously to her union with Holland. Froissart speaks of Philippa's objections to the marriage of Kdward with his cousin, and very freely enters into some scan- dalous stories retjardinj? her. %\ ■:l •^. V*^. % IMAGE EVALUATION TEST TARGET (Mf.3) k A {./ .^'^%^ ,^A^ v^'' # <. % A V ^ 1.0 I.I z ^ Ilia H: ii£ 12.0 1.8 1.25 1.4 \o ■• 6" — ► V] a^ n /a /J. //m / Photographic Sciences Corporation 33 WIST MAIN STRUT WItSTIRNY 1 4510 (716) •7a-4S03 ' ^^ ',^k. ^L*. fe 576 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. I ' I labour (or toil) much/ Soon after her return from Calais she obtained a grant from her royal lord,' giving permission to her bailiff, Alan de Strothere, to work the mines of Alder- neston, which had been worked in the days of king Henry III. and Edward I. From this re-opening of the Tynedale mines by Philippa proceeded our coal-trade, which, during the reign of her grandson, Henry IV., enriched the great merchant Whittington and the city of London. The queen continued to increase the royal family. The princess Mary, who afterwards married the duke of Bretagne -, prince William, bom at Windsor, who died in his twelfth year ; Edmund, afterwards duke of York ; and Blanche, of the Tower,^ were bom before the surrender of Calais ; the princess Margaret, and Thomas of Woodstock, afterwards. Edward's presents to his queen on these occasions were munificent. One of his grants is thus affectionately worded : — July 20. The king orders his exchequer to pay " our Philippa, our dearest consort, five hundred pounds, to liquidate the expenses of her churching at Windsor."* This was on occasion of the birtli of prince William, Philippa's second son of that name. Philippa did not disdain the alliance of the great English nobles ; her objection to the union of Edward, her chivalric heir, with Joanna of Kent, arose solely from disapprobation of the moral character of that princess.^ Her next surviving son, Lionel, she not only united to an English maiden, but undertook the wardship and education of his young bride, as may be learned from this document : — " January 1, 1347. Edward III. gives to his dearest consort, Philippa, the ward- ship of the j)er8on of Elizabeth de Burgh, daughter to the deceased carl of Ulster, (slain in Ireland,) with her lands and lordships, untir Lionel, yet in tender years, shall take the young Elizabeth to wife."* Our queen was nearly as popular at Bristol as she wa« at Norwich. The Bristolians have carefully preserved several busts of her, sculptured in stone. One of considc-iblc beauty, over the triforium of the cathedral, is the original of o\ir por- ' C;ik\v'« Fcwlora. To tl)iH ^jriint is hrt do Viteripontc and hw lioira to ha o^iHihI kings of Tyninbilo. ' WttlMinghuin. ' Oaley'a Fanlera. * FroiBsiirt, vol. xi. * Caley*8 Fcederu. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT* 677 )m Calais jrmission of Alder- enry III. lie mines the reign merchant ly. The Jretagne ; is twelfth he, of the B princess Edward's unificent. -July 20. ippa, our ! expenses on of the at name. it English ' chivalric (probation surviving liden, but ; bride, as 1, 1347. the ward- ter to the lands and take the le was at h\ several lie beauty, f otir por- f^ \wm\mmi le. ey'» Foederu. trait.* As it only consists of the head and neck, of com'se the detail of the costume cannot be given, excepting of the pe- culiarly elegant crown, which is a low-pointed circlet, sur- mounted and enriched with flowers and foliage, apparently formed of gems. The easy folds of the waving hair flowing on the queen's shoulders have been struck out by a chisel of no common power : the expression of Philippa's forehead is noble and candid, and that of her features pretty and sweet- tempered. Her age, in the beautiful original bust, does not appear more than twenty-two years. A precept of Philippa, May 14, 135 4, relating to her claims of queen-gold, establishes by practical proof that her worth of character was sterling, and not merely foimded on the flatter- ing tribute of the poets or historians she patronised, — such as Chaucer or Froissart. She desires therein " that her attorney in the exchequer, her dear clerk sir John de Edingtou, should cause all the writs which have been filed from the search lately made by sir Richard de Cressevill to be postponed until the octaves of Easter next ensuing, to the end that in the mean time we and our council may be able to be advised which of the said writs are to be put in execution for our profit, and which of them are to cease to the relief of our people and to save our conscience. And we will that this letter be your warrant therefore. — Given under our privy-seal at West- minster, the 14th day of May, in the reign of our very dear lord the king of England the twenty-fourth," (1354).^ The grand victory of Poictiers distinguished the year 1357. A prouder day than that of Nevillc's-Crossi ^vas the 5th of May, 1357, when Edward the Black Prince landed at Sand- wich with his royal prisoner king John, and jircsentcd him to his mother after that glorious entry into London, where the prince tacitly gave John the honours of a suzerain by permitting him to mount the famous white charger on which ' We have to retuni otir griitoftil tlmnks to tlio rev. Mr. Carter of UrlHtol- cathedral, not only for obtaining? jwriniHrnon to co])y tluH rcprpsontat ion of our great (picen l'hilii)i)a in the uu'riclian of her life, hut for tiikinj^ trouble and in- curring exiwuHe in having an accurate coat made from the tiiforium head, and Hending it to ut*. ^ JMudox, Collect. Additiomil MSS. trauHlated from the origiiuJ French. VOL. I. P P 578 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. I he rode at Poictiers, and which was captured with him.^ At the same time that the queen received her vanquished kins- man, her son presented to her another prisoner, who, young as he was, was far fiercer in his captivity than the king of France : this was Philip, the fourth son of king John, a little hero of fourteen, who had fought desperately by his father^s side on the lost field, and had been captured alive with some difficulty, and not till he was desperately wounded.^ The first day of his arrival at the court of England he gave a proof of his fierceness, by starting from the table, where he sat at dinner with the king and queen and his father, and boxing the ears of King Edward^s cup-bearer for serving the king of England before the king of France ; " for," he said, " though his father king John was unfortunate, he was the sovereign of the king of England." Edward and Philippa only smiled at the boy's petulance, and treated him with indulgent benevo- lence ; and when he quarrelled with the prince of Wales, at a game of chess, they most courteously decided the disputed move in favour of prince Philip. That renowned champion, sir Bertrand du Guesclin, was one of the prisoners of Poictiers. One day, when queen Philippa was entertaining at her court a number of the noble French prisoners, the prince of Wales proposed that Du Guesclin should name his own ran^r according to the etiquette of the times, adding, that w ,veT sum he men- tioned, be it small or great, should set liim free. The valiant Breton valued himself at a hundred thousand crowns. The prince of Wales started at the immense sum, and asked sir Ber- trand " How he could ever expect to raise such an enormous ransom ?" — " I know," replied the hero, " a hundred knights in my native Brctagnc, who would mortgage their last acre rather than Du Guesclin should either languish in captivity or be rated below his value : yea, and there is not a woman in France now toiling at her distaff, wlio would not devote a ' Tlie wliHo home wn« uhvny«. in the middle ngea, the sign of sovereignty. CiiflTard mentions the interesting fiict, that this white steed was a captive as well as his master. — Hist, of France. ' Philipe le Hardi, dnke of Hurgiindy. He wiw a ])rince of grert integrity, and always faithf\il to his unfurtuuute nephew, Charles VI. — Uitford. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 579 him.* At shed kins- ho, young le king of hn, a little lis father's with some The first ve a proof ; he sat at ad boxing le king of , "though )vereign of smiled at it benevo- V^ales, at a ! disputed sclin, was en queen the noble that Du ag to the he men- 'he valiant nis. The ed sir Ber- enormous id knights ' last acre captivity a woman t devote a ' sovereignty, iptive as woU ntegrity, and day's earnings to set me free, for well have I deserved of their sex. And if all the fair spinners in France employ their hands to redeem me, think you, prince, whether I shall bide much longer with you ?" Queen Philippa, who had listened with great attention to the discussion between her son and his prisoner, now spoke •} " I name," she said, " fifty thousand crowns, my son, as my contribution towards your gallant pri- soner's ransom; for though an enemy to my husband, a knight who is famed for the courteous protection he has afforded to my sex, deserves the assistaii'^e of every woman." Du Guesclin immediately threw himself at the feet of the generous queen, saying, " Ah, lady ! being the ugliest knight in France, I never reckoned on any goodness from your sex, excepting from those whom 1 had aided or protected by my sword; but your bounty will make me think less despicably of myself." Philippa, as is usual in the brightest specimens of female excellence, was the friend of her own sex, and honoured those men most who paid the greatest reverence to women. Du Guesclin did not over-rate his own ugliness to queen Philippa. His monumental portrait shows him short and corpulent, with the drollest broad face it is possible to ima- gine : in truth, he gives the idea of an heroic Sancho Panza. The most glorious festival ever known in England was that held at Windsor, in the commencement of the year 1358, for the diversion of the two royal prisoners, John king of France, and David Bruce of Scotland. The Round tower at Windsor, despite of the heavy expenses of war, was completed on pur- pose that the feast called the ' Round tal)le of the knights of the Garter' might be held within it. The captive kings of France and Scotland were invited to that feast as guests, and sat one on each side of Edward III. : king John and king David tilted at the lists. The interest of the ceremony was further enlianccd by the fatal accident which befell the stout earl of Salisbmy, who was killed in one of the encounters at the lists. Report says, that king John of France was still more captivated with the beauty of lady Salisbury than king Edward ' (iiffkrd attributes this beautifiil nnwdote to Joanna, the wife of the Hlack Prince, and places the incident after the battle of Navarrote. We follow the authority of St. I'elaye, in his History of C'hivalry, supi)orted by several Fr«ncU historians. It is thu subject of a spirited Hrotou ballad romance. F P 2 580 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. had been, and as hopelessly, for that fair and virtuous woman retired into the deepest seclusion on the calamitous death of her lord/ After the Windsor festival, Edward placed king John in an irksome captivity, and prepared for the re-invasion of France. Queen Philippa embarked, with her husband, for the new campaign, on the 29th of October, 1359. All her sons were with the army, excepting the little prince Thomas of Wood- stock, who, at the redoubtable age of five years, was left guardian of the kingdom,^ and represented the majesty of his father's person by sitting on the tlirone vhen parliaments were held. After Edward had marched throv^h France with- out resistance, and (if the truth must be spoken) desolating, as he went, a bleeding and suifering country in a most un- generous manner, his career was stopped, as he was hastening to lay siege to Paris, by the hand of God itself. One of those dreadful thunder-storms which at distant cycles pass over the continent of France,' literally attacked the invading army, within two leagues of Chartres, and wreaked its utmost fury on the proud chivalry of England. Six thousand of Edward's finest horses, and one thousand of his bravest cavaliers, among whom were the heirs of Warmck and Morley, were struck dead before him. The guilty ambition of Edward smote his Conscience : he knelt down on the spot, and spreading his hands towards the church of Our Lady of Chartres, vowed to stop the eft'usion of blood, and make peace on the spot with France. His queen, who wished well for the noble-minded king of France, held him to his resolution ; and a peace, containing tolerable articles for France, was concluded at Bretigny. The queen, king Edward, and the royal family returned, and landed at Rye, 18th of May, ten days after the peace. After the triumph of Poictiers, the king and queen no longer opposed the union of the prince of Wales with Joanna the Fair,^ although that princess was four years older than Edward, and her character and disposition were far fi-om meet- ing the approval of the queen. Edward and Joanna were ' Dugdale. Millcs. ' Fa'dorn, vol. vi. ' It was considereil that the accounts of this storm ha«l Iwcn greatly exaggerated by the chroniclers, till one still more dreadfiil ravaged France in 1790, and htutcncd, by the famine it brought, the I'^rench revolution. "* Joanna married the prince a few montlu after the death of her firttt husband; PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 581 US woman 3athofher g John in of France, r the new sons were of Wood- was left !sty of his arliaments ance with- lesolating, most un- hastening le of those s over the ing army, tmost fury ' Edward's ;rs, among ere struck smote his J his hands d to stop th France. I king of containing igny. The md landed queen no th Joanna )lder than rom meet- mna were iT cxnggeratcd in 1790, and int Luabaod; married in the queen's presence, at Windsor-chapel, October 10, 1361. After this marriage. King Edward invested hisi son with the duchy of Aquitainc, and he departed with his bride, in an evil hour, to govern that territory. Froissart, speaking, of the farewell visit of the queen, says, — " I, John Froissaii;, author of these chronicles, was in the service of queen Philippa when she accompanied king Edward and the royal family to Berkhamstead-castle, to take leave of the prince and princess of Wales on their departure for Aquitaine. I was at that time twenty-four years old, and one of the clerks of the chamber to my lady the queen. During this visit, as I was seated on a bench, I heard an ancient knight expounding some of the prophecies of Merlin to the queen's ladies. According to him,, neither the prince of Wales nor the duke of Clarence, though sons to king Edward, will wear the crown of England, but it will fall to the house of Lancaster." This gives a specimen of the conversation with which maids of honour in the reign of queen Philippa were entertained, — not with scandal or fashions, but with the best endeavours of an ancient knight to tell a fortune or peep into ftiturity, by the assistance of the wizard Merlin. King John, soon after the peace, took leave of the queen for the purpose of returning to France, that he might arrange for the payment of his ransom : he sent to England the young lord de Coucy, count of Soissons, as one of the hostages for its liquidation. During the sojourn of De Coucy in England, he won the heart of the lady Isabella, the eldest daughter of Edward and Philippa. After remaining some time in France, and finding it impossible to fulfil his engagements, king John returned to his captivity, and redeemed his parole and his hostages with this noble sentiment : " If honour were lost elsewhere upon earth, it ought to be found in the conduct of kings." Froissart thus describes the rctiu-n of this heroic, but unfortunate sovereign : — " News was brought to the king, who was at that time with queen Philippa at Eltham, (a very besides their nearness of kin, other impediments existed to their union; the prince had fonned a still stronger relationship witli his cousin, according to tlio l;i\\ H of tlie Roman -catholic church, by becouiiug sponsor to her two boj s, mid hold- . ing tlicui in his arms at the baptismal font ; and, abovo all, the divorce (if Joiuina from the earl of Salisbury was not considered legiil. All these impediments were lejnUized by a bull, obtiuned some yews ttft«» this nuuTHge. — IJyraer'B Focdcra. 582 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. M magnificent palace the English kings have seven miles from London,) that the captive king had landed at Dover. This was in 1364, the 1st of January. King Edward sent off a grand deputation, saying how much the queen and he were rejoiced to see him in England, and this it may be supposed, all things considered, the king of France readily believed. King Jolm offered at the shrine of Thomas ^-Becket at Can- terbury, on his journey ; and taking the road to London, he arrived at Eltham, where queen Philippa and king Edward were ready to receive him. It was on a Sunday, in the after- noon : there were, between that time and supper, many grand dances and carols, at which it seems the young lord de Coucy distinguished himself by singing and dancing. I can never relate how very honourably the king and queen behaved to king John at Eltham. They afterwards lodged him with great pomp in the palace of the Savoy, where he visited king Edward at Westminster whenever he had a mind to see him or the queen, taking boat, and coming from Savoy-stairs by water to the palace." But king John's health was declining, and he died at the Savoy-palace the same year.' A marriage soon after took place between the elegant De Coucy and the princess-royal. Althoiigh an emperor's nephew,* this nobleman could scarcely be considered a match for the daughter of Edward III. ; but since the escape of her faith- less betrothed, the count of Flanders, Isabella had entered into no maniage-contract, and was, at the time of her nup- tials, turned of thirty. On occasion of the marriage festivals king Edward presented his queen with two rich corsets, one embroidered with the words Myn biddinye, and the other with lier motto, Iche tvrude muche? Prince Lionel at this time espoused the ward of queen Philippa, Elizabeth de Burgh, ' Knowing his end approaching, king John had certainly surrendered his person, in hopes of saving his coxniti'y the expense of his ransom. ' He was grandson to Leopold dnke of Austria, hy Katherine, sister to the emperor Albert II. ' We owe this curious fact to sir Harris Nicolas's excellent work on the order of the Oarter. The language of the words has been disputed, but we beg leave to offer this fact to the consideration of philologists. If a Suttblk peasant of the oast opijosite to Holland is asked " what he did yesterday P" when he Imd had a. very hard day's work, he will rejily nearly in the same-soundirg words in his East-Anglian ilinlect ; viz. " / Krovght much" ailes from er. This sent off a 1 he were supposed, believed. 3t at Can- ondon, he ^ Edward the after- any grand de Coucy can never ehaved to vith great ig Edward ra or the 7 water to I, and he legant De s nephew,- h for the her faith- d entered her nup- e festivals fsets, one ither with this time ie Burgh, •endered his sister to the m the order .e beg leave iisant of the he had had vords in his PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 583 who brought, as dower, at least one-third of Ireland, with the mighty inheritance of the Clares, earls of Gloucester. Ed- ward III. afterwards created Lionel duke of Clarence. This prince, through whose daughter, married to Edmund Mortimer, the line of York derived their primogeniture, was a handsome and courageous Flemish giant, mild-tempered and amiable, as persons of great strength and stature, by a beneficent law of nature, usually are. Lionel is rather an obscure though im- portant person in English history. Here is his portrait, by the last of our rhyming chroniclers : — " In all the world there was no prince him like. Of high stature and of all seemliness. Above all men within the whole kingn'^e [kingdom] By the shoulders might be seen, doubtless. In hall was he maid-like for gentleness. In other places famed for rhetoric. But in the field a lion marmobike."' Death soon dissolved his wedlock. Elizabeth de Burgh, the duchess of Clarence, left a daughter but a few days old, in whose progeny the title to the English crown has centered. She was bom and baptized at Eltham-palace, August 16th, the twenty- ninth year of her grandfather's reign.** This motherless babe the queen Philippa adopted for her own, and became sponsor to her with the countess of Warwick, as may be seen in the Friar's Genealogy, when mentioning Lionel of Clarence : — " His wife was dead and at Clare buried. And no heir had he but his daughter, faire Philippe, that hight as chronicles specified. Whom queen Philippe christened for his hei," The archbishop of York for her compeer j Her godmother, also, was of Warwick countess, A lady likewise of great worthiness." John of Gaunt, the third surviving son of Philippa, married Blanche, the heiress of Lancaster : the princess Mary was wedded to the duke of Bretagne, but died early in life. Ed- mund Langley, earl of Cambridge, afterwards duke of York, married Isabella of Castile, whose sister his brother John of * Wliat sort of lion this may he we have not yet ascertained. 2 Appendix to the fourth Report of Records, p. 135 : White tower Record. " The lady Philippa of Clarence was married to Edmund Mortimer, earl of March, in the forty -third year of her grandfather's reign.— White tower Record; fourth Report of Records, p. 135. , 584 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. i I Gaunt took for his second wife. The youngest prince, Thomas of Woodstock, afterwards created Duke of Gloucester, married an English lady, the co-heiress of Humphrey de Bohun, con- stable of England. Margaret, the fifth daughter of Edward III., was given in marriage to the earl of Pembroke ; she was one of the most learned ladies of her age, and a distinguished patroness of Chaucer.* Notwithstanding their great strength and commanding stature, scarcely one of the sons of PhUippa reached old age ; even " John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster," was only fifty-nine at his demise. The premature introduction to the cares of state, the weight of plate-armour, and the violent exercise in the tilt-yard, by way of relaxation from the severer toils of partisan warfare, seem to have brought eai-ly old age on this gallant brotherhood of princes. The queen had been the mother of twelve children ; eight survived her. Every one of the sons of Philippa were famous champions in the field. The Black Prince and John of Gaunt were learned, elegant, and brilliant, and strongly partook of the genius of Edward I. and the Proven9al Plantagenets. Lionel and Edmund were good-natured and brave. They were comely in features, and gigantic in stature ; they possessed no great vigour of intellect, and were both rather addicted to the pleasures of the table. Thomas of Woodstock was fierce, petulant, and rapacious; he possessed, however, considerable accomplishments, and is reckoned among royal and noble authors. He wrote a his- tory of the ' Laws of Battle,' which is perspicuous in style ; he was the great patron of Gower the poet, who belonged originally to the household of this prince. The queen saw the promise of a successor to the throne of England in the progeny of her best-beloved son Edward. Her grandson Richard was bom at Bourdeaux, before she succumbed to her fatal malady. Philippa had not the misery of living to see the change in ' Philippa, in conjunction with her son, John duke of Lancaster, warmly patronised Chaucer. With this queen the court favour of the father of English vorse expired. He was neglected by Richard II. and his consort, as all his memoirs will testify. Nor did the union of his wile's sister with the duke of Lancaster draw him from his retirement. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 585 V\ i, Thomas f, married hun, con- : Edward ; she was in^ished imaiiding . old age; was only on to the le violent le severer y old age had been Every one the field. , elegant, Sdward I. und were ures, and intellect, the table, apacious ; ts, and is 3te a his- in style; belonged aeen saw id in the grandson ed to her shange in ;er, warmly of English ;, as all his the duke of the prosperity of her family, — to witness the long pining decay of the heroic prince of Wales, the grievous change in his health and disposition, or the imbecility that gradually took posses- sion of the once-mighty mind of her husband. Before these reverses took place, the queen was seized with a dropsical malady, under which she languished about two years. All her sons were absent on the continent when her death ap- proached, excepting her youngest, Thomas of Woodstock. The Black Prince had just concluded his Spanish campaign, and was ill in Gascony. Lionel of Clarence was at the point of death in Italy; the queen^s secretary, Froissart, had accom- panied that prince when he went to be married to Violante of Milan. On the return of Froissart, he found his royal mistress was dead, and he thus describes her death-bed, from the detail of those who were present and heard her last words: " I must now speak' of the death of the most courteous, liberal, and noble lady that ever reigned in her time, — the lady Philippa of Hainault, queen of England. While her son the duke of Lancaster was encamped in the valley of Toumeham, ready to give battle to the dake of Burgundy, tliis death happened in England, to the infinite misfortune of king Edward, his children, and the whole kingdom. That excellent lady the queen, who had done so much good, aiding all knights, ladies, and damsels, when distressed, who had applied to her, was at this time dangerously sick at Windsor-castle, and every day her disorder increased. When the good queen perceived that her end approached, she called to the king, and extending her right hand from under the bed-clothes, put it into the right hand of king Edward, who was oppressed with sorrow, and thus spoke : ' We have, my husband, enjoyed our long union in happiness, peace, and prosperity. But I entreat, before I depart, and we are for ever separated in this world, that you will grant me three requests.' King Edward, with sighs and tears, replied, ' Lady, name them: whatever be your requests, they shall be granted.' — ' My lord,' she said, * I beg you will fulfil whatever engagements I have entered into with mer- ' Froissart, vol. iv. p. 20. Froissart wrote an elegy in verse on the death of his patroness, Queen Philippa, which has not been pieoCivcd. 586 PHILIPPA OF HAINAUT.T. ■ 1 chants for their wares, as well on this, as on the other side of the sea : I beseech you to fiilfil whatever gifts or legacies I have made, or left to churches wherein I have paid my devo- tions, and to all my servants, whether male or female : and when it shall please God to call you hence, you will choose no other sepulchre than mine, and that you will rest by my side in the cloisters of Westminster-abbey/ The king, in tears, replied, ' Lady, all this shall be done/ Soon after, the good lady made the sign of the cross on her breast, and having re- commended to the king her youngest son Thomas, who was present, praying to God she gave up her spirit, which I firmly believe was caught by holy angels and carried to the glory of heaven, for she had never done any thing by thought or deed to endanger her soul. Thus died this admirable queen of England, in the year of grace 1369, the vigil of the Assump- tion of the Virgin, the 14th of August. Information of this heavy loss was carried to the English army at Toumeham, which greatly afflicted every one, more especially her son John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster." Philippa's words were not complied with to the letter; her grave is not by her husband's side, at Westminster-abbey, but at his feet. Her statue in alabaster is placed on the monu- ment.' Skelton's translation of her Latin epitaph, hung on a tablet close by her tomb, is as follows : — " Paire Philippe, William Hainault's child, and younger daughter deare, Of roseate hue and beauty bright, in tomb lies hilled here ; King Edward, through his mother's will and nobles' good consent. Took her to wife, and joyfully with her his time he spent. Her uncle John, a martial man, and eke a valiant knight. Did link this woman to this king in bonds of marriage bright : ' Stowe gives names to the numerous images which surround the tomb on the authority of an old MS. At the feet are the king of Navan-e, the king of Bohemia, the king of Scots, the king of Spain, and the king of Sicily, At the head, William count of Hainault, Philippa's father ; John king of France, her uncle's son ; Edward III., her husband j the emperor, her brother-in-law j and Edward prince of Wales, her son. On the left side are Joanna queen of Scots, her sister-in-law ; John earl of Cornwall, her brother-in-law ; Joanna princess of Wales, her daughter-in-law, and the duchesses of Clarence and Lancaster, the princess Isabella, and the princes Lionel, John, Edmund, and Thomas. On the right side of the tomb may be seen her motlier, her brother and his wife, her nephew Louis of Bavaria, her uncle John of Hainault, her daughters Mary and Margaret, and Charles duke of Brabant. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 587 ther side of legacies I d my devo- 3male: and 1 choose no by my side g, in tears, T, the good having re- s, who was ich I firmly he glory of jht or deed queen of le Assump- tion of this ^oumeham, y her son letter; her -abbey, but the momi- h, hung on ighter deare, i consent. ght: e tomb on the 3, the king of icily. At the f France, her ir-in-law; and leen of Scots, lanna princess nd Lancaster, Thomas. On and his wife, .ughters Mary This match and marriage thus in blood did bind the Flemings sure To Englishmen, by which they did the Frenchmen's wreck procure. This Philippe, dowered in gifts full rare and treasures of the mind. In beauty bright, religion, faith, to all and each most kind. A fruitftil mother Philippe was, full many a son she bred, And brought forth many a worthy knight, hardy and full of dread ; A careful nurse to students all, at Oxford she did found Queen's college, and dame Pallas' school, that did her fame resound. The vnfe of Edward, dear Queen Philippe, lieth here. LEAKN TO LIVE." Truth obliges as to divest queen Philippa of one good deed, which was, in fact, out of her power to perform ; she is gene- rally considered to be the first foundress of the magnificent Queen's college, at Oxford. It was founded, indeed, by her chaplain, — that noble character Robert de Eglesfield,' who with modesty equal to his learning and merits, placed it under the protection of his royal mistress, and called it her founda- tion, and the ' college of the queen.' Eglesfield took for the motto of Queen's college a Latin sentence, which may le translated, — " Queens shall be thy nurses ;" and he recom- mended it to the protection and patronage of the queer - consorts of England.^ In the course of history, rival queens wUl be found vying with each other in its support, — perhaps stimulated to this useful work by Eglesfield's well-chosen motto. Philippa herself, the consort of a monarch perpetually engaged in foreign war, and the mother of a large family, contributed but a mite towards this splendid foundation : this was, a yearly rent of twenty marks, to the sustenance of six scholar-chaplains, to be paid by her receiver. Queen Philippa's principal charitable donation was to the hospital of the nuns of St. Katherine by the Tower. She likewise left donations to the canons of the new chapel of St. Stephen, which Edward III. had built as the domestic place of worship to Westminster-palace. Her portrait, on board, in lively colours, was found among some rubbish in a desecrated part of the beautiful cloisters of St. Stephen.^ It is far more personable than her monumental statue at Westminster-abbey, ^ History of the University of Oxford. 2 Memoir of Eglesfield, in Hutchinson's Cumberland. ' Crowle's Pennant's London, vol. viii., where a coloured print represents this painting. I I i ! \ I 588 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. which was really taken when that deforming disease, the dropsy, had destroyed every remnant of Philippa's former beauty. The only shade of unpopularity ever cast on the conduct of Philippa was owing to the rapacity of her purveyors, after her children grew up. The royal family was numerous, and tlie revenues, impoverished by constant war, were very slender; and therefore every absolute due was enforced, from tenants of the crown, by the purveyors of the royal household.' The damsels of the queen's bedchamber were pensioned by king Edward after her death, according to her request. He charges his exchequer " to pay during the terms of their separate lives, on account of their good and faithful services to Philippa, late queen of England, — first, to the beloved damsel, Alicia de Preston,^ ten marks yearly, at Pasche and Michaelmas; likewise to Matilda Fisher, to Elizabeth Pershore, to Johamia Kawley, ten marks yearly ; to Johanna Cosin, to Philippa the Pycard,"^ and to Agatha Liergin, a hundred shillings yearly; and to Matilda Radscroft and Agnes de Saxilby, five marks yearly." ' Tliese tormenting ndjuncts to feudality used to lielp themselves to twenty - five qurrters of com instead of twenty, by taking heap, instead of strike measure, and wei'e guilty of many instances of oppression in the queen's name. Arch- bishoj) Islip wrote to Edward HI. a most pathetic letter on the rapacity of the royal purveyors. He says, " The king ought to make a law, enforcing honest payment for all goods needed by his housuiiold. Then," continues he, " all men will bring necessaries to your gate, as they did in the time of Henry, your great- grandfather, at whose aiijiroach all men rejoiced." He declares, " That he, the archbishop himself, trembles at hearing the king's horn, whether he haps to he in liis house or at mass. Wlu^n one of the kuig's servants knocks at the gate, he trendiles more ; wlien he conies to the dixir, still more ; and this terror con- timies as long as the king stays, on account of the various evils done to the pcKir. He thinks the king's harbingers come not on behalf of (!od, but of the devil. When the horn is heard, every one trembles ; and when the harbinger arrives, histead of sjiying ' Fear not,' as the gixxl angel did, he cries ' He nnist have oatt*, and he nnist have hay, and he must have straw and litter for the king's horses.' A second comes in, and ' lie must have geese and hens,' and many other things. A third is at his heels, and 'he must have bread and meat.'" The archliisliop prays the king " not to delay till the morrow the remedy tor these evils, whidi were only during the years of tlie king's fatlier and grandfuthcr ; that it is con- trary to all laws, divine and human, and on account of it many souls are now in heU." — Arclnt'ologiu. ' Fa'dern, vol. vi. j). 018. - SupiKwcd to lie Chaucer's wife. She wassisier to Katiierinc Hoet, the ihini wife of ilolinof Uuunt. Her father was an attendant on I'liilipjia, and cnipldynl in (luienne! lie was from the borders of licuid^,-- hence the appellation of li.s diiurhtur. PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. 589 the dropsy, auty. The 3f Philippa 3r children ; revenues, d therefore ! crown, by Qsioned by uest. He ls of their ful services he beloved Pasche and h Pershore, nna Cosin, a hundred . Agues do ves to twenty - trike meuaure, name. Arch- apuc'.ty of the forcing honest < ho, " all men rv, vour great- •' That he, the ' he haps to he cs at the gntc, [m terror eon- ne to the i)(K)r. t of the devil, binger arrives, inst have oats, king's liorsi s.' y other things, 'he arehhisliop sf evils, which that it is eon- mis are now in lUK'X, the tnnd , inul I'mphi^yiil lellation of li.s The name of Alice Ferrers does not appear on this list of beloved damsels; but a little further on, in the Foedera, occurs a well-known and disgraceful grant. " Know all, that we give and concede to our beloved Alicia Ferrers, late damsel of the chamber to our dearest consort Fhilippa deceased, and to her heirs and executors, all the jewels, goods, and chattels that the said queen left in the hands of Euphemia, who was wife to Walter de Heselarton, knight ; and the said Euphemia is to deliver them to the said Alicia, on receipt of this om* order." It is to be feared that the king's attachment to this woman had begun during Fhilippa's lingering illness, for in 1368 she obtained a gift of a manor that had belonged to the king's aunt ; and in the course of 1369 she was enriched by t grant of several manors.' But we will not pursue this subject : we are not obliged to trace the events of the dotage and folly of the .)nce-great Edward, or show the ab- surdity of which he was guilty when he made the infamous Alice Ferrers the queen's successor in his affections. During his youth, and tlie brilliant maturity of his life, Fhilippa's royal partner was worthy of the intense and faithful love she bore him. According to this portrait, Edward was not only a king, but a king among men, highly gifted in mind, person , and genius: "Edward III. was just six feet in stature, exactly shaped, and strongly made ; his limbs beautifidly turned, his face and nose somewhat long and high, but exceedingly comely; his eyes sparkling like fire, his looks manly, and his air and movements most majestic. He was well versed in law, liistory, and the divinity of the times: he imdci'stood and spoke readily Latin, French, Spanish, and German." Whilst the court was distracted with the factions which succeeded the death of the Black Prince, and John of (}aunt, duke of Lancaster, was suspected of aimhig at the crown, a most extraordinary story was circulated in England, relating to a confession supposed to be made by queen IMiilippa, on her death-bed, to William of Wykeham, bishop of Win- '*~ -■''--" aiiti iiriiuiii s »* onimiiisifr. iin«yiey ami iinuons » ontniuisier. Tliey, on very gcMHi grounds, su])]X)so that Aliee hud two daughters by the king, for whom these exeessive grants were to provide. 590 PHILIPPA OF HAINAULT. !i 1^ > cheater, — " That John ©f Gaunt was neither the son of Phi- lippa nor Edward III., but a porter's son of Ghent ; for the queen told him that she brought forth, not a son, but a daughter at Ghent ; that she overlaid and killed the little princess by accident, and dreading the wrath of king Edward for the death of his infant, she persuaded the porter's wife, a Flemish woman, to change her living son, who was bom at the same time, for the dead princess. And so the queen nourished and brought up the man now called duke of Lan- caster, which she bare not; and all these things did the queen on her death-bed declare, in confession to bishop Wyke- ham, and earnestly prayed him, ' that if ever it chanceth this son of the Flemish porter affecteth the kingdom, he will make his stock and lineage known to the world, lest a false heir should inherit the throne of England.'"' The inventor of this story did not remember that, of all the sons of Philippa, John of Gaunt most resembled his royal sire in the high majestic lineaments and piercing eyes, which spoke the descent of the Plantagenets from southern Europe. The portraits of Edward III., of the elegant Black Prince,^ and of John of Gaunt, are all marked with as strong an air of individuality ^ if they had been painted by the accurate Ifblbein.' The close observer of history will not fail to notice, that with the life of queen Philippa the happiness, the good for- tune, and even the respectability of Edward III. and his family departed ; and scenes of strife, sorrow, and folly dis- tracted the court where she had once promoted virtue, and presided with well-regulated munificence. ' ArolihiKliop Parker's Ecolesiasticnl HiHtory, and a Latin Chronido of the roiffii of Edward III., printetl in the Arfliujoh)pia. Some Hhir had been oa«t on the lejjfitiniaey of Hicliard II. by tlie Lanciwtrian juirty. .lohn of (Jaunt wiw then ii decid(«l j)artisan of Wiciklifle, and this Htory secniH raiHed by tlie opposite party for the p«r]Kwe of undermining \m influence witli the eonnnon i)eoi)le. ' Pt'^re OrleuuH aflirma tliat the prineeof Wales, just Iwfore tlie battle of Poic- tiers, wax generally railed the Hlaek IMuc'e InH-ause he wore black armour, in onler to set ofl" tlu* fairness of his complexion, and so to improve his bunne mine. .It in to Ih! noted that Froissart never calls him ' the Hlack Prince.' • HiH> the beautiful engravings hy Vertue, from originals, iu Carte's folio 11 ix- i__.. _i' t.-t 1 I ....1 :: vOrjr »i xviii^iuiui, «oi. ii. n ion of Phi- at ; for the son, but a 1 the Uttle ng Edward er^s wife, a h .w's — liaiuls ill KtyriaMAi If <.ir is-fiv^jr/ow ».. S i-,-«,rM« fS^ia.^/^ > .■;-' ,^'<*itv>rt- di'i'tHi- -Kini?% lvnjtlw?r iMiu!»inr«>l Pt«tf» v<" 'N' ^MIIiHt * t^'i?J*v t^vt- plfiulH lor th«ir livec (frtitui t,v«*HM»4H*>ii feff JJ.-r r»nt, ,„<•»! ji ^'UH-n's .•■i'mHi - M'f»»uinent -lustTiption- -(Knxitu-ss uf tlu* qiut-u. ThK anot*8tor8 of the pviiico'*^ Amu' oi" Hoi^ •••jin the same country ais \\iv FliMiii^h ^'h *.y^' ..,ikre*i rt;lativ«» to that ln;lovi'ii (jiux-u ». u * '* .*»4u' l;$r»7 at ^ftsi' n«ith«r of Ainu w:*; iU> .U-wirhtrr >>f liilv'tijiu* stuk*- uf l'(K»»t»«m», **3«i ■^.; .,. ?^i./<- / •A'»- ANNE OF BOHEMIA, SURNAMED THE GOOD, FIRST QUEEN OF RICHARD II. Descent of Anne of Bohemia — Letter of the empress Elizabeth — Anne of Bohemia betrothed — Sets out for England — Detained at Brabant— Dangers by land and sea —Lands in England — Her progress to London — Pageants at reception — Marriage and coronation — Queen's fashions and improvements — Queen favour- able to the Reformation — King's campaign in the north — Queen's knight mur- dered — King's brother condemned — Death of the princess of Wales — Tlie queen's favourite maid of honour — Persecutions of the queen's servants — Queen pleads for their lives — Grand tournament — Queen presides — Queen intercedes for the city of London — Her visit to the city — ^Oifts to her — Her entrunce at Westminster -hall — Her prayer to the king — Richard grants her request — Queen's sudden death — King's frantic grief — His summons to the burial — Monument— Inscription — Goodness of the queen. The ancestors of the princess Anne of Bohemia originated from the same country as the Flemish Philippa; she was tlie nearest relative to that beloved queen whose hand was attain- able, and by means of her uncle, duke Wenceslaus of Brabant, she brought the same popular and profitable commercial alliance to England. Anne of Bohemia was the eldest daughter of the emperor Charles IV. Ijy liis fourth wife, Elizabeth of Pomerania;' she was born about 1367, at ' The mother of Anne was the daughter of Holcslaus diike of Pomerania, and grand-daughter to Ciisimir the (treat, king of Poland. The empress Elizalwth received on her iniirriii.u'e-'liiv a uoV'lo dowry^ tlie gift of her royal grandf.iro of Poland, amounting to 10(),()0() Horins of gold. Klizabeth espoused the emi)eror Charles in 13G)i ; the year atlerwarils she heeamo tliu mother of Sigisnmnd, after- i 593 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. !! Prague, in Bohemia. The regency that governed England during king Richard the Second's minority, demanded her hand for the young king just before her father died, in the year 1380. On the arrival of the English ambassador, sir Simon Burley, at Prague, the imperial court took measures which seem not a little extraordinary at the present day. England was to Bohemia a sort of terra incognita:; and as a general know- ledge of geography and statistics was certainly not among the list of imperial accomplishments in the fourteenth century, the empress despatched duke Primislaus of Saxony on a voyage of discovery, to ascertain, for the satisfaction of herself and the princess, what sort of country England might be. What- ever were the particulars of the duke's discoveries, — and his homeward despatches must have been of a most curious nature, — it appears he kept a scrutinizing eye in regard to pecuniary interest. His report seems to have been on the whole satis- factory, since in the Foedera we find a letter from the imperial widow of Charles IV. to this effect; that " I, Elizabeth, Roman empress, always Augusta, likewise queen of Bohemia, empower duke Primislaus to treat with Richard king of England con- cerning the wedlock of that excellent virgin the damsel Anne, bom of us ; and in our name to order and dispose, and, as if our OAvn soul were pledged, to swear to the fulfilment of eveiy engagement." ^\lien the duke of Saxony returned to Germany, he carried presents of jewels from the king of England to the ladies mIio had the care of the princess's education.* " The duke of Lau- wnrds emperor of Germany, who was brother, both by father and mother, to queen Anne. The emjieror Charles IV., of the line of Luxembourg, was son of the blind king of Bohemia, well known to the reiulers of our chivalric annals. Though bereft of his sight, the king of Bohemia would be led by his knights, one at each side of his bridle, into the mUee at the gallant fight of Cressy, where, as he said, "he struck good stroVi-s more than (me" for his brother-in-law, Philip of Valois. After " charging with all his chivalry" in a tremendous line, with his battle-steed linked by chains to the saddles of his kniglits, the blind hero jjcrished in this des])erate attemjjt to redeem the " fortune of France." The motto of this brave man and the ostrich ])lumes of his crest were assumed by the young victor, our Black Prince, as the proudest trophies of that glorious day. Such was the grandsire of Anne of Bohemia. ' Froissart. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 593 England nded her i, in the 11 Burley, seem not 1 was to al know- nong the itury, the k^oyage of J" and the What- —and his IS nature, jecuniary lole satis- 1 imperial 1, Roman empower and con- sel Anne, md, as if ; of eveiy ic carried idies who e of Lan- inotlier, to was son of ilric annals, his knights, ossy, whore, thor-in-law, ondous line, H, the hlind of France." >re assumed hut glorious f . 3r, John of Gaunt, would willingly have seen the king his nephew married to his daughter, whom he had by the lady Blanche of Lancaster; but it was thought that the young lady was too nearly related, being the king's cousin-german. Sir Simon Biu*ley, a sage and valiant knight, who had been king Richard's tutor, and had been much beloved by the prince of Wales his father, was deputed to go to Germany respecting the marriage with the emperor's sister. The duke and duchess of Brabant, from the love they bore the king of England, received his envoy most courteously, and said it would be a good match for their niece. But the marriage was not immediately con- cluded, for the damsel was young; added to this, there shortly happened in England great misery and tribulation,'" by the calamitous insurrection of Wat Tyler. Richard II. was the sole surviving offspring of the gallant Black Prince and Joanna of Kent. Born in the luxurious South, the first accents of Richai'd of Bourdeaux were formed in the poetical language of Provence, and his infant tastes linked to music and song, — tastes which assimilated ill with the manners of his own court and people. His mother and half-brothers, after the death of his princely father, had brought up the future king of England with the most ruinous personal indulgence, and unconstitutional ideas of his own infallibility. He had inherited more of his mother's levity than his father's strength of character ; yet the domestic affec- tions of Richard were of the most vivid and enduring nature, especially towards the females of his family, and the state of distress and terror to which he saw his mother reduced by the insolence of Wat Tyler's mob, was the chief stimulant of his heroic behaviour when that rebel fell beneath the sword of Walworth. When these troubles were suppressed, time had obviated the objection to the union of Richard and Anne. The young princess had attained her fifteenth year, and was considered capable of giving a rational consent to her own marriage; and after sending a letter to the council of England, saying she became the wife of their king with fidl and free will, " she set VOL. I. 1 Froissurt. Q Q 594 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. out/' says Froissart, "on her perilous journey, attended by the duke of Saxony and his duchess, who was her aunt, and with a suitable number of knights and damsels. They came through Brabant to Brussels, where the duke Wenceslaus and his duchess received the young queen and her company very grandly. The lady Anne remained with her uncle and aunt more than a month ; she was afraid of proceeding, for she had been informed there were twelve large armed vessels, full of Normans, on the sea between Calais and Holland, that seized and pillaged all that fell in their hands, without any respect to persons. The report was cuiTcnt that they cruised in those seas, awaiting the coming of the king of England's bride, because the king of France and his council were very uneasy at Richard's German alliance, and were desirous of breaking the match. Detained by these apprehensions, the betrothed queen remained at Brussels more than a month, till the duke of Brabant, her uncle, sent the lords of Rousselans and Bousquehoir to remonstrate with king Charles V., who was also the near relative of Anne. Upon which king Charles remanded the Norman cruisers into port; but he declared that he granted this favour solely out of love to his cousin Anne, and out of no regard or consideration for the king of England. The duke and duchess were very much pleased, and so were all those about to cross the sea. The royal bride took leave of her uncle and aunt, and departed for Brussels. Duke Wenceslaus had the princess escorted with one hundred spears. She passed through Bruges, where the earl of Flanders received her very magnificently, and entertained her for three days. She then set out for Gravelines, where the earl of Salisburv waited for her with five hundred spears, and as many archer?. This noble escort conducted her in triumph to Calais, which belonged to her betrothed lord. Then the Brabant spearmen took their departure, after seeing her safely delivered to the English governor. The lady Anne stayed at Calais only till the wind became favourable. Slie cmliarked on a Wednesday morning, and the same day arrived at Dover, where she tarried to repose herself two days." The ^oung bride had need of some interval to compose ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 595 ;nded by lunt, and ley came 2nceslaus company ncle and ding, for d vessels, and, that lout any y cruised England's ^ere very sirous of ions, the lonth, till ousselans v., who ? Charles ared that in Anne, ngland. so were ok leave Duke d spears. received ee days. alisburv archer?. which pearmen to the )nly till inesday tarried ompose herself, after her narrow escape from destruction. All our native historians notice the following strange fact, Avhich must have originated in a tremendous ground-swell. " Scarcely," says the chronicler,* " had the Bohemian princess set her foot on the shore, when a sudden convulsion of the sea took place, unaccompanied with wind, and unlike any winter storm; but the water was so violently shaken and troubled, and put in such furious commotion, that the ship in which the young queen's person was conveyed was very terribly rent in pieces before her very face, and the rest of the vessels that rode in company were tossed so, that it astonished all beholders." The English parliament was sitting when intelligence came that the king's bride, after all the difficulties and dangers of her progress from Prague, had safely arrived at Dover; on which it was prorogued, but first funds were appointed, that with all honour the bride might be presented to the young- king. On the third day after her arrival the lady Anne set forth on her progress to Canterbury, where she was met by the king's uncle Thomas, who received her with the utmost reverence and honour. When she approached the Blackheath, the lord mayor and citizens, in splendid dresses, greeted her, and, with all the ladies and damsels, both from town and country, joined her cavalcade, making so gi'and an entry into London, that the like had scarcely ever been seen. The gold- smiths' company (seven score of the men of this rich guild) splendidly arrayed themselves to meet, as they said, the ' Caesar's sister.' Nor was their munificence confined to their own persons ; they further put themselves to the expense of sixty shillings for the hire of seven minstrels, with foil on their hats and chaperons, and expensive vestures, to do honom* to the imperial bride : and to two shillings further expense, " for potations i'or the said minstrels,"^ At the upper end of Cheapside was a pageant of a castle with towers, from two sides of which ran fountains of wine. From these towers beautiful damsels blew in the faces of the king and queen gold leaf ; this was thought a device of extreme elegance and ingenuity ; • Quoted by Miiles. 2 Herbert's History of tlie City Companies. Q Q 2 596 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. f t'l il tliey likewise threw counterfeit gold florins before the horses' fffii 'if the royal party. \ Vnue of Hobrmia was married to Richard II. in the chapel- M al of the paln^f' of Westminster, the newly erected structure of fcit. Stephen. " On tlie wedding-day, which was the twentieth after Christmas, there were, ' says Froissart, " mighty feastings. That gallant and noble knight. Sir Robert Namur, accom- panied the queen, from the time when she quitted Prague till she was married. Tliv king, at the end of the week, carried his queen to Windsor, where he kept open and royal house. They were very happy together. She was accompanied by the king's mother the princess of Wales, and her daughter the duchess of Bretagne, half sister to king Richard, who was then in England soliciting for the restitution of the earldoivi n{ Richmond, which had been taken from her husband by the English regency, and settled in part of dower on queen Anne, Some days after the marriage of the royal pair they returned to London, and the coronation of the queen was performed most magnificently. At the young queen's earnest request, a general pardon was granted by the king at her consecration." ' The afflicted people stood in need of this respite, as the execu- tions, since Tyler's insurrection, had been bloody and barbarous beyond all precedent. The land was reeking with the blood of the unhappy peasantry, when the humane intercession of the gentle Anne of Bohemia put a stop to the executions. This mediation obtained for Richard's bride the title of ' the good queen Anne ;' and years, instead of impairing the popu- larity, usually so evanescent in England, only increased the esteem felt by her subjects for this beneficent princess. Grand tournaments were held directly after the coronation. Many days were spent in these solemnii:' \, -^iiP? sin the Ger- man nobles who had accompanied thp r;'*-. i. o Englitiid displayed their chivalry, to the great deiigiit of the English. Our chroniclers call Anne of Bohemia ' the beauteous queen.' At fifteen or sixteen a blooming German girl is a very pleasing '. ^ ct : but her beauty must have been limited to stature and /0!f vlv-xio;., for the features of her statue are homely and un- ' .' /rrell, Walsiiigliaui. Rymer. i \NNE OF BOHEMIA. 597 le horses' le chapel- structure wentieth feasiings. ', accom- rague till :, carried al house, id by the hter the was then Idoia '>f i hv . )nation. tie Ger- Inj^ .xid English, queen.' •leasing lire and md un- dignified. A narrow, unintellectual forehead, a long upper lip, cheeks whose fulness inreased towards the lower part of the face, can scarcely entitle lior to claim a reputation for beauty. But the head-dress she wore must have neutralized the defects of her face in some degree. This was the horned cap which constituted the head-gear of the lidies of Bohemia and Hun- gary, and in this ' moony tire' did the bride of Uichard present herself to the astonished eyes of her female subjeets.^ Queen Anne made some atonement for being the importer of these hideous fashions by introducing the use of pins, such ati are used at our present toilets. Our chronicler* declare ill it, previously to her arrival in England, the English fair fastened their robes with skewers, — a great misrepresentation, for even as early as the Roman empire the use of pins was known, and British barrows have been opened wherein were found numbers of very neat and efficient little ivory pins, which had been used in arranging the grave-clothes of th<^ dead ; and can these irreverent chroniclers suppose that English ladies used worse fastenings for their robes in the fourteentli century ? Side-saddles were the third new fashion brought i iito Eng- land by Anne of Bohemia : they were different fr( mi those used at present, which were invented or first adopted by Catherine de Medicis, queen of France. The side-saddle of Anne of Bohemia was like a bench with a hanging step, where both feet were placed. This mode of riding required a foot- man or squire at the bridle-rein of a lady's palfry, and was chiefly used in processions. According to the fashion of the age, the young queen had a device, which all her knights were expected to wear at tournaments ; but her device was, we think, a very stupid one, being an ostrich, with a pie^ e of iron in his mouth.^ ' This cap was at least two feet in height, and as many in width ; its f ibric was built of wire and pasteboard, like a very wide-spreading mitre, and over these horns was extended some glittering tissue or gauze. Monstrous and outragtwus were the horned caps that reared their heads in England directly the royal bride appeared in one. These formidable novelties expanded their wings on every side ; till, at church or procession, the diminished heads of lords ,nd knights were eclipsed by their ambitious partners. The church declared ti.ey were ' the nioon\ tire' denounced by Ezekicd, — likely enough, for they had bien introduced by liohemian crusaders fi'om Syria. ^ Camden's Remains. It is possible this was not a device, but an armonal bcaruig, and had some couuexion with the ostrich plume the Black Prince took 598 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. r- 1 At the celebration of the festival of the order of the Garter, 1384, queen Anne wore a ro])e of violet cloth dyed in-grain, the hood lined with scarlet, the robe lined with fur. She was attended by a number of noble ladies, who are mentioned " as newly received into the society of the Garter." They were habited in the same costume as their young queen.' The royal spouse of Aimc was remarkable for the foppery of his dress : he had one coat estimated at thirty thousand marks. Its chief value must have arisen from the precious stones with which it Avas adorned. This was called apparel " broidered of stone."'- Notwithstanding the great accession of luxury that followed this marriage, tlie daughter of the Caesars (as Richard proudly called his bride) not only came portionless to the English throne matrimonial, but her husband had to pay a very handsome sum i'or the honour of calling her his own : he paid to her brotlicr 10,000 marks for the imperial alliance, besides being at the whole charge of her journey. The jewels of the duchy of Aquitaine, the floriated coronet, and many brooches in the form of animals were pawned to the Lon- doners, in order to raise money for the expenses of the bridal. To Anne of Bohemia is attributed the honour of being the first in that illustrious band of princesses who Averc the niu's- ing-mothers of the Reformation.'' The Protestant church inseribc^s her name at the commencement of the illustrious list, in which are seen those of Amie Roleyn, Katharine Parr, lady Jane Gray, and (pieen I]li/.a))eth. Whether tlie young queen brought those principles with her, or imbibed them from lier jjniiulfiitlicr ut Crcssv. Tlic dukes of Austriii lire ]u'r|K'fiiiilly culled duiu's of (Xifrir/i- by the Kn-xliHli writers, iis lute im Speed. 'I'lie tleviee, ])erluii)s, liii])lied a ])un on the Kiifi;lisli hkhIo of ]ir()iio\iuein^ Austria, or Autrieho, whicli name is derived from tlie eistern position of tliat coimtvv. ' See sir Harris Nicolas, History of tlie Order of the (liirter. ' In this rei{,'n the shoes were worn witli pointed toes of an al)sm'd and incon- venient leti(;tli. ("amden ipioles an aninsiiifj jiassiiije from a tpiaint work, entitled Eiilofjinm on the Kxtrava^aiiee of the l''ashinnsof tiiis Kei^ii : " Tlielr slues and puttens are siiowted and ])iked up more than a tinf^.r lonjf, wliicli they call ' eraetnves,' risevMinn; the devil's claws, whidi were tasteiied to tlic knees willi chains of ufold and silver; and thus were Ifitj/ jfarmeiited which were lyuiLS in the hall, and hares in the held." ' Fox. the niartyrolii^tist, iledares that the Bohemians who attended queen Anne first introduced the wt ks of Wieklitfe to .lohn Hnss: cimiit Valerian Krasinski, in Iiis recent viihmhle History of the Heforniation in I'oland, onflnns tliiii assertion from tho rocords uf liis country. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 599 he Garter, I in-graiii, She was mentioned " They ?en.' The cry of his nd marks, ones with oidered of ixnry that IS Richard :!ss to the to pay a 1 own : he 1 alliance, 'he jewels and many the Lon- the bridal, being the the nnrs- it church lliistrious ■inc Parr, »e vouiijj )ed them iiiilh- ciilh'd If, perl 111 ])s, ■iclio, wliicli V. imd iiicdii. i'k,i'ii(itl('il rslici's iiiid I tlicy ciill knees willi I'o l^ons ill •led fiueeii t Viileriiiii \, oidiriiH from her mother-in-law, the princess of Wales, it is not easy to ascertain. A passage quoted by Huss, the Bohemian reformer, leads to the inference that Anne was used to read the Scriptm-es in her native tongue. " It is possible," says Wicklift'e, in. liis work called the Threefold Bond of Love, " that our noble queen of England, sister of the Caesar, may have the gospel written in three languages, — Bohemian, German, and Latin : now, to liereticate her [brand her with heresy] on that account, would be Luciferian folly." The influence of queen Anne over the mind of her young husband was certainly employed by Joanna princess of Wales' to aid her in saving the life of Wickliffe, when in great danger at the council of Lambeth in 1382.^ Joanna, princess of Wales, was a convert of Wicklifle, who had been introduced to her by his patron, the duke of Lan- caster. Joanna, aided by her daughter-in-law, swayed the ductile mind of king Richard to their wishes."' Soon after, the queen was separated from her husband by a war in Scot- land. The most remarkable incident of his campaign was the mm'der of lord Stafford, by the king's half-brother, John ^ Tlint Aniio'rt motlicr-in-Uiw was the aetivo protectress of Wlekliffe is iipjMircnt from Dr. I/injr rd's words, vol. iv. ]>. 1S9. " Some said that tlie two bisliojis were intimidate', by a messiipe fn^m the princess of WaU's ; by Wicklifle liiinself his escape w.is coiis'dered and ce!t>brated as u triumi)h." Modern writers have nsually attributed this good deeil to Anne, hut she \vas t(K) yomif; to do more than follow tlie leid of lier mother-indaw. From Walsinpham we find that several kni^jhts of the lionsHiold were acciist'dof Lollardisni ; from various autho- rities, we find sir Simon Hurley, sir Lewis Cliiford, sir John Slurry, and sir.Iohn Oldcastle, were more or less accused as dlsci])le8 of the new doctrine. In a life of Wicklille, ])id>lished in Barnard's History of Kuj^'lnnd, it is atflrmed, fmni Walsinurhiini, that when Wicklille was under trial, a iiiessitfre arrived from the jtrincess of Wales, hrou;;ht by sir Lewis ('lillonl, forbidd'n^r the council to ])r>)- niamce an injurious sentence ajfuinst (heir ])r:si)ner : " Ujion which," says Wid- sinj^lmm, "they were as reeds by tlie wind shaken, their speech became smoiAh as oil, and Wicklfle was but condemned to silence." ' Wi('l;lin(' died at Lutterworth, in 1 1181. and when darker times arose after the death of this beneticcnt (lueeu, persecution found m u^^ht to vent its spile u])on, exec]>tiii>f the insensible hones of the "evil parson of Lutterworth," as he was (•alli'istj for he was actually struck for death in the act of celcbratinjr the miss at the altar of his villii|,rc church; therefore, while livinjf, he wu» nc\er cut cll'fnnu the communion of the church of Kome. ^ Life of WiclvUllc, IJiogru. llrit. 600 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. Holland. Jealousy of the queen^s favour, and malice against her adherents, appear to be the secret motives of this deed. Stafford was a peerless chevalier, adored by the English army, and, for his virtuous conduct, in high favour with Anne of Bohemia, who called him " her knight ;" and he was actually on his way to London, with messages from the king to the queen, when this fatal encounter took place.^ The ostensible cause of the murder was likewise connected with the queen, as we learn from Froissart that the archers of lord Stafford, when protecting sir Meles, a Bohemian knight then with the army, who wa; a friend of queen Anne, slew a favourite squire belonging to sir John Holland ; and to revenge a punishment which this man had brought upon himself, sir John cut lord Stafford down without any personal provocation. The grief of the earl of Stafford, his entreaties for justice on the mur- derer of his son, and, above all, the atrocious circumstan. f of the case, wrought on king Richard to vow that an ocmpury act of ju!:,'j'ce should be performed on John Holland, (]>rother though he might be,) as soon as he ventured from the shrine of St. John of Beverley, whither this homicide had fled for sanctuary. In vain Joanna princess of Wales, the mutual mother of the king and murderer, pleaded with Richard, after his return from Scotland, that the life of sir John might be spared. After four days' incessant lamentation, the king's mother died on the fifth day at the royal castle of Walling- ford. Richard's resolution failed him at this catastrophe, and, when too late to save his mother, he pardoned the criminal. The aggrieved persona in this unhappy adventure were the friends of the queen, but tlierc is no evidence that she excited her husband's wruth."^ The homicide who had occasioned so much troul)le, dej)arted on an atoning pilgrimage to Syria. He was absent from England during the life of (pieen Anne, and happy would it have been for his brother if he had never returned. Anne of Bohemia, unlike Isabella of France, who was always at war with her huMbaTul's favourites and friends, made it a rule of life to iove all that the king loved, and to consider 1 Speed. Fruiiuuirt. ' Froi».<;irt. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 601 e against his deed, sh army, Anne of 1 actually g to the stensible e queen, Stafford, with the te squire lishment cut lord 'he grief he miu"- tamc of onjpury ())r3tlier e shrine fled for mutual rd, after light be 3 king's Valling- strophe, led the venture ice that lo had ritnagc life of )ther if lo was ', made insider a sedulous compliance with his will as her first duty. In one instance alone did this pliancy of temper lead her into the violation of justice; this was in the case of the repudiation of the countess of Oxford. " There were great murmurings against the duke of Ireland," says Froissart; "but what injm'ed him most -was his conduct to his duchess, the lady Philippa, daugh+< r of the lord de Coucy, a handsome and noble lady ; for the duke was greatly enamoured with one of the queen's damsels, called the landgravine.' She was a tolerably handsome, pleasant lady, whom queen Aime had brought with her from Bohemia. The duke of Ireland loved her with such ardour, that he was desirous of making her, if possible, his duchess by marriage. All the good people of England were much shocked at this, for his lawful wife was grand-daughter to the gallant king Edward and the excellent (jueen Philippa, being the daughter of the princess Isabella. Her uncles, the dukes of Gloucester and York, were very wroth at this insult." The first and last error of Anne of Bohemia was the par- ticipation in this disgraceful transaction, by which she was degraded in the eyes of subjects who had manifested great esteem for her meek virtues. The offensive part taken by the queen in this transaction was, that she actually wrote with her own hand an urgent letter to Pope Urban, persuading him to sanction the divorce of the countess of Oxford, and to authorize the marriage of her faithless lord with the land- gravine. Whether the maid of honour were a princess or a peasant, she had no right to appropriate another woman's husband. The queen was scarcely less culpable in aiding and abetting so nefarious a measure, to the infinite injmy of her- self, and of the consort she so tenderly loved. There was scarcely an earl in England who was not related to the royal family : the queen, by the part she took in this disgraceful ' Froitwart gives tliiH high title to tliiw iiinitl of honour, while the Kiiglish (•hrotiii'lerH hniiul her with low l)irth. Tlio FdHleni involves tlicse tlisjmtes in further ni^story l)y imiiiirg her the /rr/i(///mr(.v.va, or hiiidgrnviiieof l.uxeiiihourg, a title, it is 8111(1, which never exiHted. The king gives a safe-eoiuluet to this landgravissii to eonie to Kiiglaiul, with all her jewels, ciiamlH'r fiirnitun', imd vahialiles sent hy tlu" empress for the use of liis de irest nueen, the eiiii»ios8 having appointed the lundgravissa her daiigliter's lady of the hedeiianilwr. .1 M V V .1 602 ANXE OF BOHEMIA. affair^ offended every one allied to the royal house of Plan- tagenet;' moreover, the lady whose divorce was attempted, was nearly allied to the house of Austria. The storm of popular indignation fell in its fury on the head of the unfortunate sir Simon Burley, the same knight whom we have seen make two journeys to Prague, in solemn embassy, regarding the queen's marriage. This unfortunate knight, who was the most accomplished man of his age, had been foredoomed by his persecutors. The earl of Arundel had previously expressed an opinion to king Richard, that sir Simon de Burley deserved death. " Didst thou not say to me in the time of thy parliament, when we were in the bath behind the white-hall, that sir Simon de Burley deserved to be put to death on several accounts? And did not I make answer, ' I know no reason why he should suffer death '<' and yet you and your companions traitorously took his life from him!" Such was the accusation by king Richard, when Arundel stood on his trial to pay the bitter debt of vengeance that Richard had noted against him, as the cause of his tutor's death. The trial of sir Simon Burley was a bitter sorrow to the queen, — ])erluips her first sorrow ; and as it appears that the expenses of her journey from (Germany being loft unpaid by the government during the king's minority ultimately led to the disgrace of her friend, the queen must have considered herself as the innocent cause of his death. While the execu- tions of sir Simon Burley and many others of the king's adherents w(M'e proceeding in London, Richard and liis (piecii retired to Bristol, and fixed their residence in tlie easth;. A civil war commenced, which terminated in the defeat of the royal troops at Radeot-l)ri(lge near Oxford, by the duke of Gloucester and yotnig Henry of B()lingl)r<)ke. It was the queen's mediation alone tliat could induce Ricliard to receive the arehbislioj) of (Canterbury, when he came to propose an amnesty l)etwecu the king and liis subjects: two days and ' An Or uil, thi) divorce wns not ciirrii'd into offoct, for i» tlio yoar 1389 tliero In n letter of saff-coiuliict from kin*; Kicliard to hid dearcnt eoiwhi l'liilii)i)a, wife to Itobert do Vere. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 603 of Plan- tempted, Y on the c knight 1 solemn brtunate age, had Arundel , that sir )t say to the bath vcd to be I make death V : his life rd, when sngeance p of his w to the that the ipaid by y led to nsidercd e exccu- c king's is queen ^tl(;. A t of tlio duke of Mas the ) receive •pose .'111 avs and \M) tlion- ilipj).!, wife nights did Richard remain inflexible ; till at last, by the per- suasion of Anne, the arehbishop Avas admitted to tlie royal presence. " Many plans," says Froissart, " were proposed to the king ; at last, by the good advice of the queen, he re- strained his eholer, and agreed to accompany the archbishop to London." After the queen returned to London from Bristol, the pro- ceedings of that parliament commenced which has been justly termed by history ' the Merciless.' The queen's servants were the principal objects of its vengeance, the tendency to Lollardism in her household being probably the secret motive. It was in vain that the queen of England humbled herself to the very dust, in hopes of saving her lithful friends. King Richard in an especial manner instanced the undutifulness of the earl of Arundel to the queen,' who, he declared, " was three hours on her knees before this earl, pleading with tears for the life of Jolni Calverley, one of her esquires." All the answer she could get was this, " Pray for yourself and your husband, for that is the best thing you can do, and let this request alone ;" and all the importunities used could not save Calverley's life.^ Indeed, the duke of Gloucester and his colleagues established a reign of terror, making it i)enal for any person to testify fidelity to the king or queen, or to receive their eonfidenee. The duke of Ireland fled to the Low Countries, from whence he never returned during his life.'' The intermediate time, from the autumn of L'JSr to the spring of 1389, was spent by the young king and queen in a species of restraint. i<]lthani and Shene were the favourite residences of Rieliard luul Anne, and in tlicse palaces they chiefly sojoiu-ned at this time. The favourite sunmn>r i)aKace of Anne was named, fiom the k)vely huulscape around it, Shene : tradition says tiiat l^dward tiie ('onfessor, delighting in the fair scenerv, called it bv that exi)rcssive Saxon word, signifying every thing that is bright aiul beauteous. The king had, during this interval, attained his twenty-second year; and his first (nu'stion. on the ineeting of liis parliament, wa;*, Vi j ^ I. ;,^ ' At the triiil of Anindcl. ■ State Triiils, vol. i. •■' Kii-? irdmnl liiul his h,;dv bnniftlit to Kunlimd, luid romvul it with rcimir] ublo foremoiiiiiis. 604 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. " How old he was ?" And when they named the years he had attained, he declared that his ancestors were always con- sidered of age much earlier, and that the meanest of his subjects were of age at twenty-one ; he therefore determined to shake off the fetters that controlled him. The scene was followed by a sort of re-coronation in St. Stephen's chapel, where the nobility renewed their oaths to him ; and it was particularly observed that he kissed those with affection whom he considered as his adherents, and scowled on those who had been the leaders in the late insurrections. The king was always exceedingly attached to his uncle, the duke of Lancaster, but he had a strong wish to rid himself of his tiu-bulent and popular cousin Henry, the eldest son of that duke, who was born the same year as himself, and from infancy was his rival. On one occasion Henry had threatened the life of the king in the presence of the queen. " Thrice have I saved his life !" exclaimed king Richard. " Once my dear uncle Lancaster (on whom God have mercy) would have slain him for his treason and villany; and then, O God of paradise ! all night did I ride to preserve him fi'om death : once, also, he drew his sword on me, in the chamber of queen Anne."' King Richard soon after bestowed on the duke of Lancaster the sovereignty of Aquitaine, probably with the design of keeping the son of that prince at a distance from England. The queen held a grand festival on this occasion. Part of the high ceremonial consisted in the queen's presenta- tion of the duchess of Lancaster with the gold circlet she was to wear as duchess of Aquitaine, while Richard invested his uncle with the ducal coronet ; but the investiture was useless, for the people of Aquitaine refused to be separated from the dominion of England. The king's full assumption of the royal authority was celc- })rated witli a splendid tournament, over which queen Anne presided, as the sovereign lady, to bestow the prize, — a rich ' This f'rny must Imve takon ])liico in tlie year 1390, sinoe Henry of Bolin>»- broke withdrew at that ])erio(l Ironi Kiif^land, in order to carry arms against sonic unconverteil trilK.'s on tlso hisrd •*' > ;f»-. rdera o* liitiriuiiiia, wmi wiioni ine leutonic kniglits were waijinjjf a crusade warfare.-Sju'ed. Oovnit Valerian Krasinski declares tliat the plain when? lli« EngHsli prince encamped in liithuania is still pointed out by tlie peasants. ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 605 years he v^ays con- !st of his :termined icene was 8 chapel, id it was on whom who had ncle, the [ himself st son of md from ireatened " Thrice Dnce my )uld have God of I death : of queen duke of vith the ice from )ccasion. )resenta- she was sted his useless, rom tlu! \ as celc- ;n Anne — a rich of Rolin^- iis iigiiiiist Teutonic Krasinski lia is Htill jewelled clasp to the best tenant or holder of the lists, and a rich crown of gold to the best of the opponents. Sixty of her ladies, mounted on beautiful palfreys, each led a knight by a silver chain to the tilting-ground at Smithfield through the streets of London, to the sound of trumpets, attended by numerous minstrels. In this order they passed before queen Anne, who was already arrived with her ladies : they were placed in open chambers,* richly decorated. The queen retired at dusk to the bishop of London^s palace at St. Paul's, where she held a grand banquet, with dancing both before and after supper. During the whole of the tournament the queen lodged at the palace of the bishop of London. '^ The queen's good offices as a mediator were required in the year 1392, to compose a serious difference between Richard II. and the city of London. Richard had asked a loan of a thousand pounds from the citizens, which they peremptorily refused. An Italian merchant oflfered the king the sum re- quired ; upon which the citizens raised a tumult, and tore the unfortunate loan-lender to pieces. This outrage being fol- lowed by a riot, atteiided with bloodshed, Richard declared " that as th(! city did not keep his peace, he should resume her charters," and actually removed the courts of law to York. In distress, the city applied to queen Anne to mediate for them. Fortunatelv, Richard had no other favourite at that time than his peace-loving queen, " who was," say the ancient historians, "very precious to the nation, being continually doing some good to the people; and she deserved a much larger dower than the sum settled on her, which only amounted to four thousand five hundred pounds per annum." The manner in which queen Anne pacified Richard is preserved in a Latin chronicle poem, written by Rijhard Maydes^on, an eye-witness of the scene :^ he was a priest attached to the court, and in favour with Richard and the queen. ' They were tempDvary stands erected at Smithfield, in tlie same manner as on racing courses in the jiresent times. '^ See col. .lolmcs' Notes to Froissiirt. ' Lately ])ul)lished hy the Cmnden Soc'ety. Maydeslon's narrative is i'ully confirmed hy a letter fnmi Ki chard, in the Fncdera, wherein ho declare.s, "he was reconciled to the citizens tlirough the mediation of his dear wife the queen." \ I •"•"1 G06 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. \r !♦ ■11 \ ■ M I' Through the private intercession of tlie queen, the king consented to pass through the city, on his way from Shene to Westminster -palace, on the 29th of August. When they arrived at Southwark the queen assumed her crown, which she wore during the whole procession through London : it was blazing with various gems of the choicest kinds. Her dress was likewise studded Avith precious stones, and she wore a rich carcanet about her neck ; she appeared, according to the taste of Maydeston, " fairest among the fair," and from the benign humility of her gracious countenance, the anxious citizens gathered hopes that she would succeed in pacifying the king. During the entry of the royal pair into the city their processions were separate. At the king's approach to London-bridge he was greeted by the lord mayor and other authorities, who were followed by a vast concourse of men, women, and children, every artificer bearing some symbol of his craft. Before the Southwark bridge-gate the king was pre- sented with a pair of fair white steeds trapped with gold cloth, figured with red and white, and hung full of silver bells, — "steeds such as Caesar might have been pleased to yoke to his car.'* Queen Anne then arrived with her train, when the lord mayor Venncr presented her with a small white palfrey, ex- quisitely trained, for her own riding. The lord mayor com- menced a long speech with these words : — " O generous offspring of imperial blood, whom God hath destined worthily to sway the sceptre as consort of our king \" lie then pro- ceded to hint " that mercy and not rigour best became the queenly station, and that gentle ladies had great influence with their lovnig lords: moreover, he entered into a discussion on the merits of the palfrey presented to her by the city ; he commended its beauty, its docility, and the convenience of its ambling paces, and the magnificence of its pui-ple housings.'' After the animal had been graciously accepted l)y the queen, she passed over London-bridge to its portal on the city side ; but some of lun' maids of honour, avIio were follow- ing her in two Avagons, or eharrettes,' were not quite so ' Tlioso oonvoynnccs wore noitlicr more nor less tlum boiiclii'd wnpons, wliicli wero kejit lor the uccoinuKxlatloii of the queen's maids of honour : the eluirretU's ANNE OF BOHEMIA. G07 the king Shene to len they n, which idon : it Is. Her she wore n'diiig to and from 3 anxious pacifying the city )roach to ,nd other of men, lymbol of r was pre- old cloth, — "steeds » us car. the lord Ifrey, ex- -vor com- generous worthily hen pro- came the influence liscussion city ; he nee of its ousings." le queen, the city •e follow- quite so ipous, wliic'ii 10 i!lmrretlt.'.s fortunate in their progress over the bridge. Old London- bridge was, in the fourteenth century, and for some ages after, no such easy defile for a large influx of people to povu* tliroiigh : though not then eneroaclicd upon Ijy houses and sho^ it was encumbered by fortifications and barricades, which guarded the drawbridge-towers in the centre, and the gate-towers at each end. In this instance the multitudes rushing out of the city, to get a view of the queen and her traiu, meet- ing the crowds following the royal procession, the throngs pressed on each other so tumultuously, that one of the charrettes containing the qucen^s ladies was overturned, — lady rolled upon lady, one or two were forced to stand for some moments on their heads, to the infinite injury of their horned caps, all were much discomi)osed by the upset, and, what was worse, nothing could restrain the laughter of the rude, plebeian artificers ; at last the equipage was righted, the discomfited damsels replaced, and their charrette resumed its place in the procession. But such a reverse of horned caps did not happen without serious inconvenience to the wearers, which Maydcston very miimtely particularizes. As the king and queen passed through the city, the prin- cipal thoroughfares were hung with gold cloth and silver tissue, and tapestry of silk and gold. When they approached the conduit at Cheapside, red and white wine played from the spouts of a tower erected against it ; the royal pair were served " with rosy wine smiling in golden cups," and an angel flew down in a cloud, and presented to the king, and then to the queen, rich gold circlets worth several hundred pounds. An- other conduit of wine played at St. Paul's eastern gate, where was stationed a l)and of anticpie musical instruments, whose names alone will astovmd modern nnisical cars. There Avcre persons playing on tympanies, mono-chords, cymbals, psalteries, and lyres ; zandmcas, citherns, situlas, horns, and viols. Our learned Latinist dwells with much unction on the melodious were very gaily oriiiiuu'utcd with red puinl, and liiiod with scarlet cloth tlimugh- out. Tlicy are dcscrihid in tlie houseliold bonks ot royidly very inhiutely : tl.ey »^ 1 \>VA bl«>lA4A f -V 603 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. clionis produced by these instruments, which, he says, " wrapt all hearers in a kind of stupor/' No wonder ! At the monastery of St. Paul's the king and queen alighted from their steeds, and passed through the cathedral on foot, in order to pay their offerings at the holy sepulchre of St. Erkenwald. At the western gate they remounted their horses, and proceeded to the Ludgate. There, just above the river bridge, — ^which river, we beg to remind our readers, was that delicious stream now called Fleet-ditch, — was perched " a celestial band of spirits, who saluted the royal personages, as they passed the Flete-bridge, vrith enchanting singing and sweet psalmody, making, withal, a pleasant fume by swinging incense-pots ; they likewise scattered fragrant flowers on the ]^.ing and queen as they severally passed the bridge." And if the odours of that civic stream, the Fleet, at that time by any means rivalled those which pertain to it at present, every one must own that a fumigation was appointed there with great judgment. At the Temple barrier, above the gate, was the represen- tation of a desert inhabited by all manner of animals, mixed with reptiles and monstrous worms, or, at least, by their resemblances ; in the background was a forest : amidst the concourse of beasts, was seated the holy baptist John,' point- ing with his finger to an agnus Dei. After the king had halted to view this scene, his attention was struck by the figure of St. John, for whom he had a peculiar devotion, " when an angel descended fi'om above the wilderness, bear- ing in his hands a splendid gift, which was a tablet studded with gems, fit for any altar, with the crucifixion embossed thereon." The king took it in his hand and said, " Peace to this city ! for the sake of Christ, his mother, and my patron St. John, I forgive every oft'ence." Then the king contiimed his progress towards his palace, and the queen arrived opposite to the desert and St. John, when lord mayor Vcnner presented her with another tablet, likewise representing the crucifixion. He commenced his 1 The Temple was then in possession of the Hosi)itallers of St. John. m: ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 609 (( wrapt 1 alighted 1 on foot, re of St. ;ir horses, the river was that fched " a mages, as ging and swinging rs on the 3." And t time by ent, every iiere with represen- ts, mixed by their nidst the n,' point- king had k by the devotion, ess, bear- t studded embossed Peace to ly patron is palace, St. John, er tablet, 3nced his .rolin. speech with these words : " Illustrious daughter ' imperiri parents ! Anne, — a name in Hebrew signifying * grace,' and which was borne by her who was the mother of the mother of Christ, — mindful of your race and name, intercede for us to the king : and as often as you see this tablet, think of our city, and speak in our favour." Upon which the queen graciously accepted the dutiful offering of the city, saying, with the emphatic brevity of a good wife who knew her in- fluence, " Leave all to me." By this time the king had arrived at his palace of West- minster, the great hall of which was ornamented with hang- ings more splendid than the pen can describe. Richard's throne was prepared upqn the King's- bench, which royal tribunal he ascended, sceptre in hand, and sat in great majesty when the queen and the rest of the procession entered the hall. The queen was followed by her maiden train. When she approached the king, she knelt down at his feet, and so did all her ladies. The king hastened to raise her, asking, — " What would Anna ? Declare, and your request shall be granted." The queen's answer is perhaps a fair specimen of the way in which she obtained her empire over the weak but aflec- tionate mind of Richard ; more honeyed words than the fol- lowing, female blandishment could scarcely devise : " Sweet !" she replied, " my king, my spouse, my light, my life ! sweet love, without whose life mine would be but death ! be pleased to govern your citizens as a gracious lord. Consider, even to-day, how munificent their treatment. Wliat worshiji, what honour, what splendid public duty, have they at great cost paid to thee, revered king ! Like us, they are but mortal, and liable to frailty. Far from thy memory, my king, my sweet love, be their offences ; and for their pardon I supplicate, kneeling thus lowly on the ground." Then, after some men- tion of Brutus and Arthur, ancient kings of Britain, — which no doubt are interpolated flourishes of good master Maydeston, the queen concludes her supplication by requesting, " that the ^«<-U,r pCllltClJli king v.'ould please to restore to these VtOivnj plebeians their ancient charters and liberties." — " Be satisfied, VOL. I. R 11 610 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. dearest wife," the king answered; "loath should we be to deny any reasonable request of thine. Meantime, ascend and sit beside me on my throne, while I speak a few words to my people." He seated the gentle queen beside him on the throne. The king then spoke, and all listened in silence, both high and low. He addressed the lord mayor : " I will restore to you my royal favour as in former days, for I duly prize the expense which you have incurred, the presents you have made me, and the prayers of the queen. Do you henceforth avoid oflence to your sovereign, and disrespect to his nobles. Pre- serve the ancient faith ; despise the new doctrines unknown to your fathers ; defend the catholic church, the whole church, for there is no order of men in it that is not dedicated to the "worship of God. Take back the key and sword ; keep my peace in your city, rule its inhabitants as formerly, and be among them my representative."' No fiui;her differences with the king disturbed the country during the life of Anne of Bohemia. It is probable, that if the existence of this beloved queen had been spared, the calamities and crimes of Richard's future years would have been averted by her mild advice. Yet the king's extravagant generosity nothing could repress ; the profusion of the royal household is severely commented upon by Walsingham and Knighton. StiU their strictures seem invidious ; nothing but partisan malice could blame such hospitality as the following in a time of famine : " Though a terrible series of plagues and famine afflicted England, the king retrenched none of his diversions or expenses. He entertained every day six thousand persons, most of whom were indigent poor. He valued himself on surpassing in magnificence all the sovereigns in Europe, as if he possessed an inexhaustible treasure : in his kitchen alone, three hundred persons were employed ; and the queen had a like number to attend upon her service."^ While Richard was preparing for a campaign in Ireland, 1 This reconciliation cost the city lO.OOOZ. From some allusions in the king's speech, there is reason to suppose that the riot had been imputed to the Wick- ^^^''^' 2 Walsingham. ANNE OP BOHEMIA. 611 e be to end and ^ords to throne, th high tore to rize the ve made h avoid Pre- Qknown church, I to the eep my and be country that if ed, the Id have avagant e royal am and ing but llowing plagues one of day six '. He ereigns ; in his i; and reland, le king's !S Wick- which country had revolted from his authority, his departure was delayed by a terrible bereavement. This was the loss of his beloved partner. It is supposed she died of the pesti- lence that was then raging throughout Europe, as her decease was heralded by an illness of but a fevv hours. Froissart says, speaking of the occurrences in England, June 1394 : " At this period die lady Anne, queen of England, fell sick, to the infinite distress of king Richard and all her household. Her disorder increased so rapidly, that she departed this life at the feast of Whitsuntide, 1394. The king and all who loved her were greatly afflicted at her death. King Richard was incon- solable for her loss, as they mutually loved each other, having been married young. This queen left no issue, for she never bore a child." Anne of Bohemia died at her favourite palace of Shene : the king was with her when she expired. lie had never given her a rival; she appears to have possessed his whole heart, which was rent bv the most acute sorrow at the sudden loss of his faithful partner, who was, in fact, his only friend. In the frenzy of his grief, Richard imprecated the bitterest curses on the place of her death ; and, unable to bear the sight of the place where he had passed his only happy hours with this beloved and virtuous queen, he ordered the palace of Shene to be levelled with the ground." The deep tone of Richard's grief is apparent even in the summons sent by him to the English peers, requiring their attendance, to do honour to the magnificent obsequies he had prepared for his lost con- sort. His letters on this occasion are in existence, and are addressed to each of his barons in this style : — " Very deak and faithftti- Cor^siN,^ " Inasmuch as our beloved companion, the queen, (whom God has hence com- manded,) will be buried at Westminster, on Monday tlie third of August next, we earnestly entreat that you (setting aside all excuses) will repair to our city of ' The apartments where the queen died were actually dismantled, but Henry V. restored them. * The style of this circular will prove how much modern historians are mistaken who declisre that king Henrv IV, first adopted that form of royal address whicli terms all earls the king's cousins; yet the authority is no less than that of Blackstone. This circular of his predecessor was not confined to earls. 11 11 2> r m i G12 ANNE OF BOHEMIA. TiOndon the Wednesday previous to the same day, bringing with you our very dear kinswoman, your consort, at the same time. " We desire that you will, the preceding day, accompany the corpse of our dear consort from our manor of Sheiie to Westminster ; and for this we trust we may rely on you, as you desire our honoiu", and that of our kingdom. "Given under our privy seal at Westminster, the 10th day of June, 1394." From this document it is evident that Anne's body was brought from Shene in grand procession, the Wednesday before the 3rd of August, attended by all the nobility of England, male and female ; likewise by the citizens and authorities of London,' all clothed in black, with black hoods ; and on the 3rd of August the queen was interred. " Abun- dance of wax was sent for from Flanders for flambeaux and torches, and the illumination was so great that nothing was seen like it before, not even at the burial of the good queen Philippa : the king would have it so, because she was daughter of the emperor of Rome and Germany.'''^ The most memo- rable aud interesting circumstance at the burial of Anne of Bohemia is the fact, that Thomas Arundel, afterwards arch- bishop of Canterbury, who preached her funeral sermon, in the course of it greatly commended the queen for reading the holy Scriptures in the vulgar tongue.* Richard's grief was as long-enduring as it was acute. One year elapsed before he had devised the species of monument he thought wortliy the memory of his beloved Anne, yet his expressions of tenderness regarding her pervaded his covenant with the London artificers employed to erect it. He took, withal, the extraordinary step of having his own monumental statue made to repose by that of the queen, with the hands of the effigies clasped in each other. Our portrait is taken ' The Fanlera contains a circular from the king to the citizens nearly similar *'* ""' "^^«- a Froissart. •'' l{n])iii, vol. i. 70l. Tliore is a great contradiction hctwocn l^ijnn nnd Fox, when alludiujj: to this funeral Hcrmon. Fox, in his dedication of the Anglo-Saxon (loNjH'ls t<)(|uccn Klizalu'th, in ir>7l, uses these words :— " Thomas Arundel, arch- bishoj), at the fimcral oration of tn'ccn Anne in \'MH, did avouch, us I'olydoro Vergil miith, that she had the gtmi»ela with divers ex])ositorH, which slic scut unto him to 1h' vcrilied and examined." This is the direct contrarv ^o l{a]iin's asser- tion; yet the whole current of cveuts in Hicluird II.'s reign strongly sujunirts tiie assertion of the early reformers, that Anne of isohemia was favournhiy inclined to them. Certain it is that her brother, king Wenceslaus of Hohemia, (thougli no great honour to the cause,) encouraged the Hussites in her native country. Ifi ANNE OF BOHEMIA. 013 from the queen's statue, which is of gilded ])ronze. Some plunderers tore off the crown when the venerable abbey- church was made a stable for the steeds of CromwelPs troopers at the death of Charles I. The loss of the head-dress gives a certain degree of forlornness to the resemblance of Anne of Bohemia, She, who used to appear in a horned cap half a yard in height, is forced to present herself with no other orna- ment than her own dishevelled tresses. Her robe has been very curiously engraved by the artist, with her device of ostriches and her husband's Plantagenet emblem of the open pods of the broom plant, which arc arranged on her dress so as to form elegant borders. The skirts of her dress approach the form of the farthingale, which seems originally a German costume. The tomb of Anne was commenced in 1395 ; the indentures descriptive of its form are to be found in the Foedera. The marble part of the monument was consigned to the care of Stephen Loat, citizen and mason of London, and Henry Yevele, his partner. In the document alluded to above, occur these words : — " And also inscriptions are to be graven a])out the tomb, such as will be delivered proper for it." The actual in- scription is in Latin ; the sentiments are tender and elegant, and the words are said to be composed by the king himself: it enters into the personal and mental qualifications of Anne, like one who knew and loved her. The Latin coiumenccs — " Sub jtetra lata doniiim Anna jacet tumulata," &c. The following is a literal translation :' — " Under this stono lies Anna, here entombed, Weddinl in this world's life to the second RichanL To Christ were her meek virtues devoted, His ]MK)r she freely fed from her treiwures; Strife she assiuij^ed, and swelling? feuds ai)|)eas 69 TEx^xtas permission to {)rr J^naleiite. EMBELLISHED WITH POKTRAITS OF EVERY QUEEN, BEAUTIFULLY ENGRAVED FROM THE MOST AUTHENTIC SOURCES. ;le." ote and In announcing a cheap Edition of this important and inte- resting" work, which has been considered unique in biographical literature, the publishers again beg to direct attention to the following extract from the author's preface : — " A revised edition of the * Lives of the Queens of England, embodying the important collections which have been brouglit to light since the appearance of earlier impressions, is now offered to the world, embellished with Portraits of every Queen, from authentic and properly verified sources. The series, com- mencing with the consort of William the Conqueror, occupies that most interesting and important period of our national chro- nology, from the death of the last monarch of the Anglo-Saxon line, Edward the Confessor, to the demise of the last sovereign of the royal house of Stuart, Queen Anne, and comprises therein thirty queens who have worn the crown-matrimonial, and four the regal diadem of this realm. We have related the parentage of every queen, described her education, traced the influence of family connexions and national habits on her conduct, both public and private, and given a concise outline of the domestic, as well as the general history of her times, and its effects on her character, and we have done so with singleness of heart, unbiassed by selfish interests or narrow views. Such an they were in life we have endeavoured to portray them, both in good and ill, without regard to any other considerations than the development of the facts. Their sayings, their doings, their manners, their costume, will be found faithfully chronicled in this work, which also includes the most interesting of their letters. The hope that the ' Lives of the Queens of England* might be regarded as a national work, honourable to the female character, and generally useful to society, has encou- raged us to the completion of the task." OPINIONS OF THE PBESS. TROM THE TIMES. _ " These volumes have the fascination of romance united to the integrity of history. The work is written by a lady of considerable learning, indefatigable industry, and careful judgment. All these qualifications for a biographer and an historian she has brought to bear upon the subject of her volumes, and from them has resulted a narrative interestmg to all, and more particularly interest- ing to that portion of the community to whom the more refined researches of literature afiford pleasure and instruction. The whole work should be read, and no doubt will be read, by all who are anxious for information. It is a lucid arrangement of facts, derived from authentic sources, exhibiting a combination of industry, learning, judgment, and impartiality, not often met with in bio- graphers of crowned heads." MOKNINGt HEKALD. '• A remarkable and truly great histoi-ical work. In this series of biographies, in which the severe truth of history takes almost the wildness of romance, it is the singular merit of Miss Strickland that her research has enabled her to throw new lignt on many doubtful passages, to bring forth fresh facts, and to render every portion of our annals which she has described an interesting and valuable study. She has given a most valuable contribution to the history of England, and we have no hesitation in affirming that no one can be said to possess an accurate knowledge of the history of the country who has not studied this truly national work, which, in this new edition, has received all the aids that further research on the part of the author, and of embellishment on the part of the pub- lishers, could tend to make it still more valuable, and still more attractive, than it had Iseen in its original form." MORNING CHRONICLE. " A most valuable and entertaining work. There is certainly no lady of our day who has devoted her pen to so beneficial a purpose as Miss Strickland. Nor is there any other whose works possess a deeper or more enduring interest." MORNING POST. " We must pronounce Miss Strickland beyond all comparison the most en- tertaining historian in the English language. She is certauily a woman of power- ful and active mind, as well as of scrupulous justice and honesty of purpose." QUARTERLY REVIEW. *' Miss Strickland has made a very judicious use of manj^ authentic MS. au- thorities not previously collected, and the result is a most interesting addition to our biographical library." athen;i;cm, *• A valuable contribution to historical knowledge. It contains a mass of every kind of historicai matter of interest, which industry and research could collect. We have derived much entertainment and ins. . action from the work." NEW LIBKAHY EDITION, WITH PORTRAITS, OF PEPYS' DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE. Noio ready, elegantly printed, in Four Volumes, demy octavo, a new and improved Library Edition, including all the late important MS. Additions, and upwards of Two Hundred additional Notes, and Letters, Index, Sfc, price 10s. 6d. per Volume, handsomely hound, of the DIARY AND CORRESPONDENCE OP SAMUEL PEPYS, F.R.S., SECRETARY TO THE ADMIRALTY IN THE REIGNS OF CHARLES V. AND JAMES II. EDITED BY RICHARD LORD BRAYBROOKE. The authority of Pepys, as an historian and illustrator of a considerable portion of the seventeenth century, has been so fully acknowledged by every scholar and critic, that it is now scarcely necessary even to remind the reader of the ad- vantages he possessed for producing the most complete and trustworthy record of events, and the most agreeable picture of society and manners, to be found in the literature of any nation. In confidential communication with the reigning sovereigns, holding high official employment, placed at the head of the Scientific and Learned of a period remarkable for intellectual impulse, mingling in every circle, and ob- serving everything and everybody whose characteristics were worth noting down ; and possessing, moreover, an intelli- gence peculiarly fitted for seizing the most graphic points in whatever he attempted to delineate, Pepts may be considered the most valuable as well as the most entertaining of our National Historians. A New Library Edition of this work, comprising all the restored passages and the additional annotations that have been called for by the vast advances in antiquarian and his- torical knowledge during the last twenty years, will doubtless be regarded as one of the most agreeable additions that could be made to the library of the general reader. OPINIONS OF THE PHESS ON FEFTS' DIAET. FROM THE EDINBURGH REVIEW. " Without making any exception in favour of any other production of ancient or modern diarists, we imhesitatingly characterise this journal as the most remarkahle production of its kind which has ever been given to the world. Pepys' Diary makes us comprehend the great historical events of the age, and the people who bore a part in them, and gives us more clear glimpses into the true English life of the times than all the other memorials of them that have come down to our own." i'ROM THE QUARTERLY REVIEW. " There is much in Pepys' Diary that throws a distinct and vivid light over the picture of England and its government during the period succeeding the Restoration. If, quitting the broad path of history, we look for minute information concerning ancient manners and customs, the progress of arts and sciences, and the various branches of antiquity, we have never seen a mine so rich as these volumes. The variety of Pepys' tastes and pursuits led him into almost every department of life. He was a man of business, a man of information, a man of whim, and, to a certain degree, a man of pleasure. He was a statesman, a bel- esprit, a virtuoso, and a connoisseur. His curiosity made him an unwearied, as well as an universal, learner, and whatever he saw found its way into his tablets." FROM THE ATHENiEUM. "The best book of its kind in the English language. The new matter is extremely curious, and occasionally far more characteristic, and entertaining than the old. The writer is seen in a clearer light, and the reader is taken into his inmost soul. Pepys' Diary is the ablest picture of the age in which the writer lived, and a work of standard im- portance in English literature." FROM THE EXAMINER. '* We place a high value on Pepys' Diary as the richest and most delightfiU contribution ever made to the history of English life and manners in the latter half of the seventeenth century." FROM TAIT's magazine. "We owe Pepys a debt of gratitude for the rare and curious informa- tion he has bequeathed to us in this most amusing and interesting work. His Diary is valuable, as depicting to us many of the most important characters of the times. Its author has bequeathed to us the records of his heart — the very reflection of his energetic mind ; and his quaint but happy narrative clears up numerous disputed points— throws light into many of the dark corners of history, and lays bare the hidden substratum of events which gave birth to, and supported the visible progress of, the nation." FROM THE MORNING POST. " Of all the records that have ever been published. Pepys' Diary gives us the most vivid and ti'ustworthy picture of the times, and the clearest view of the state of English public affairs and of English society during the reign of Cliarles II. We see there, as in a map, the vices of the monarch, the intrigues of the Caoinet, the wanton follies of the court, and the many calanjities to which the nation was subjected during the memorable period of flre, plague, and general licentiousness." CHEAP EDITION OF THE DIARY AND COERESPONDENCE OF JOm: EVELYN, F.R.S. Now completed, with Portraits, in Four Volumes, post octavo (^either of which may be had separately), price 6s. eaxh, handsomely boundy COUPBISIKO ALL THE IMFOBTANT ADDITIONAL NOTES, LBITBBS, AND OTHER ILLUSTRATIONS LAST MADE. " We rejoice to welcome this beautiful and compact edition of Evelyn. It is intended as a companion to the recent edition of Pepys, and presents similar claims to interest and notice. Eveljn was greatly above the vast majority of his con- temporaries, and the Diary which records the incidents in his long life, extending over the greater part of a century, is deservedly esteemed one of the most inte- resting books in the language. Evelyn took part in the breaking out of the civil war against Charles I., and he lived to see William of Orange ascend the throne. Through the days of Strafford and Laud, to those of Sancroft and Ken, he was the steady friend of moderation and peace in the English Church. He interceded alike for the royalist and the regicide ; he was the correspondent of Cowlfy, the patron of Jeremy Taylor, the associate and fellow-student of Boyle ; and over all the interval between Vandyck and Kneller, between the youth of Milton and the old age of Dryden, poetry and the arts found him an intelligent adviser, and a cordial friend. There are, on the whole, very few mejj of whom England has more reason to be proud. He stands among the first in the list of Gentlemen. We heartily commend so good an edition of this English classic."— ^Examiner. " This work is a necessary companion to the popular histories of our country, to Hume, Hallam, Macaulay, and Lingard.— 5u». LIVES OF THE PRINCESSES OF ENGLAND. By MRS. EVERETT GREEN, EDITOR OF THE " LETTERS OF ROYAL AND ILLUSTRIOUS LADIES." 5 vols., post 8vo, with Illustrations, lOs. 6d. each, bound. *^,* One Volume more will complete the Series. " This work is a worthy companion to Miss Strickland's admirable ' Queens of England.' That celebrrited work, although its heroines were, for the most part, foreign Princesses, related almost entu-ely to the history of this country. The Princesses «f England, on the contrary, are themselves English, but their lives are nearly all connected with foreign nations. Their biographies, conse- quently, afford us a glimpse of the manners and customs of the chie European kingdoms, a circumstance which not only gives to the work the charm of variety, but which is likely to render it peculiarly useful to the general reader, as it links together by association the contemporaneous history of various nations. Wo cordially commend Mrs. Green's production to general attention ; it is (neces- sarily) as useful as history, and fully as entertaining as romance."— A'ww. THE PEERAGE AND BARONETAGE FOR 1854. ./ BY SIR BERNARD BURKE, .;: rLSTBK KINO OF ARMS. . '' A NEW EDITION, REVISED AND CORRECTED THROUGH- OUT FROM THE PERSONAL COMMUNICATIONS OF. THE NOBILITY, &c. With 1500 Engravings of ARMS. In 1 vol. (comprising as much matter as twenty ordinary volumes), 38s. bound. The following is a List of the Principal Contents of this Standard Work: — I. A full and interesting history of each order of the English Nobility, showing its origin, rise, titles, immu- nities, privileges, &c. II. A complete Memou* of the Queen and Royal Family, forming a brief genealo^cal History of the Sovereign of this country, and deducing the descent of the Plantagenets, Tudors, Stuarts, and Guelphs, through then: various ramifications. To this section is ap- pended a list of those Peers and others wJio inherit the distinguished honour of Quartering the Royal Arms of Plantagenet. III. An Authentic table of Precedence. IV. A perfect Histouy of All the Peers and Bakonets, with the fullest details of their ancestors and descendants, and particulars respecting every collateral member of each family, and all intermarriages, &c. V. The Spiritual Lords. VI. Foreign Noblemen, subjects by- birth of the British Crown. VII. Extinct Peerages, of which descendants still exist. VIII. Peerages claimed. IX. Surnames ofPeers and Peeresses, with Heirs Apparent and Presumptive. X. Courtesy titles of Eldest Sons. XI. Peerages of the Three Kingdoms in order of Precedence. XIL Baronets in order of Precedence. Xin. Privy Councillors of England and Ireland. XIV. Daughters of Peers married to Commoners. * XV. All the Ordeks of Knight- hood, with every Knight and all the Knights Bachelors. XVI. Mottoes translated, with poeti- cal illustrations. " The most complete, the most convenient, and the cheapest work of the kind ever given to the public." — Sun. *' The best genealopcal and heraldic dictionary of the Peerage and Baronetage, and the first authority on all questions affecting the aristocracy." — Globe. " For the amazuig quantity of personal and family history, admirable arrange- ment of details, and accuracy of 'nformation, this genealogical and heraldic dictionary is without a rival. It is n >w the standard and acknowledged book of reference upon all questions touching pedigree, and direct or collateral affinity with the titled aristocracy. The lineage of each distinguished house is deduced through all the various ramifications. Evei-y collateral branch, however remotely connected, is introduced ; and the alliances are so carefully inserted, as to show, m all instances, the connexion which so intunately exists oetween the titled and untitled aristocracy. We have also much most entertaining historical matter, and many very curious and interesting family traditions. The work is, in fact, a complete cyclopaedia of the whole titled classes of the empire, supplying all the information that can possibly be "desired on the subject." — Morning Post. WORKS PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN. SIE B. BUEKE'S DICTIONAEY OF THE EXTINCT, DORMANT, AND ABEYANT PEERAGES OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND. Beautifully printed, iu 1 vol. 8vo, containing 800 double-column pages, 21s. bound. This work connects, in many instances, the new with the old nobility, and it will in all cases show the cause which has influenced the revival of an extinct dignity in a new creation. It should be particularly noticed, that this new work appertains nearly as much to extant as to extinct persons of distinction; for tnough dignities pass away, it rarely occurs that whole families do. HISTORY OF THE LANDED GENTRY. ^ ©£nealogical ilictionatg OF THE WHOLE OF THE UNTITLED ARISTOCRACY OF ENGLAND, SCOTLAND, AND IRELAND. By SIR BERNARD BURIiE. A new and improved Edition. The Purchasers of the earlier editions of the Dictionary of the Landed Gentry are requested to take notice that A COPIOUS IMDEX has been compiled with great care and at great expense, contaixiine; REFERENCEfi TO THE NAMES OF EVERY PERSON (UDWards of 100,000) JIEN'llONED IN THE WORK, and may be had bound uniformly with the work : price, 6s. EOMANTIC EECOEDS OP THE ARISTOCRACY. By SJi BERNARD BURKE. Secc 'n AND CnrAPER Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo, 21s. bound. " The most curious incidents, the most slbring tales, and the most remarkable circumstances connected with the historiesj public and private, of our noble houses and aristocratic families, are here given m a shape which will preserve them in the library, and render them the favourite study of those who are interested in the romance of real life. These stories, with all the reality of established fact, read with as much spirit as the tales of Boccacio, and are as full of strange matter for reflection and amazement." — Britannia. 10 INTERESTING WORKS MEMOIRS 0¥ HORACE WALPOLE. EDITED BY ELIOT WARBURTON. Cheaper Edition, in 2 vols. 8vo,with Portraits, 16s. bound.'' " These Memoirs form a necessary addition to the library of every English gentleman. They nearly complete the chain of mixed personal, political, and terary history, commencing with 'Evelyn' and ' Pepys,' and endmg almost in our own day with the histories of Mr. Macaulay and Lord M^on." — Standard. THE LIFE AND REIGN OF CHARLES I. By I. DISEAELI. A NEW EDITION. REVISED BY THE AUTHOR, AND EDITED BY HIS SON, THE RT. HON. B. DISRAELI, M.P. 2 vols., 8vo, 28s. bound. " By far the most important work on the important age of Charles I. that modern times have produced." — Quarterly Review. MEMOIRS OF SCIPIO DE RICCI, LATE BISHOP OF PISTOIA AND PBATO; EEFOEMEE OE CATHOLICISM IN TUSCANY. Cheaper Edition, 2 vols. 8vo, 12s. bound. The leading feature of this important work is its application to the great question now at issue between our Protestant and Catholic fellow-subjects. It contains a complete expose of the Romish Church Establishment during the eighteenth century, and of the abuses of the Jesuits throughout the greater part of Europe. Many particulars of the most thrilling kind are brought to light. HISTORIC SCENES. By AGNES STEICKLAND. Author of *' Lives of the Queens of England," &c. 1 vol., post 8vo, elegantly bound, with Portrait of the Author, 10s. 6d. "this attractive vohune is replete with interest. Like Miss Strickland's former works, it wiU be t( und, we doubt not, in the hands of youthfiil branches of a family as well ;is in those "f their parents, to all and each of whom it cannot fail to be alike amusing aud instructive." — Britannia. MEMOIRS OF LADY JANE GREY. By SIE HAEEIS NICOLAS. 1 vol. 8vo, bound, 6s. PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN. n MEMOIES OF PRINCE ALBERT; AND THE HOUSE OF SAXONY. Second Edition, revised, with Additions, by Authority. 1 vol., post 8vo, with Portrait, bound, 63. REVELATIONS OF PRINCE TALLEYRAND. Second Edition, 1 volume, post 8vo, with Portrait, 10s. 6d. bound. " We have perused this work with extreme interest. It is a portrait of Tal- leyrand drawn by his own hand." — Morning Post. " A more interesting work lias not issued from the press for many years. It is in truth a most complete Boswell sketch of the greatest diplomatist of the age." —Sunday Times. MADAME CAMPAN'S MEMOIRS OF THE COURT OF MARIE ANTOINETTE. Cheaper Edition, 2 vols. 8vo, with Portraits, price only 12s. " We have seldom perused so entertaining a work. It is as a mirror of the most splendid Court in Europe, at a time when the monarchy had not been shorn of any of its beams, that it is particularly worthy of attention." — Chronicle. LIFE AND LETTERS OF THE EMPRESS JOSEPHINE. 3 vols., small Svo, 15a. " A curious and entertaining piece of domestic biography of a most extra- ordinary person uutj f circumstances almost unprecedented."- .Veto Monthly. "An ex' Aj amusing book, full of anecdotes and traits of character of kings, priQi^is, nobles, generals, &c." — Mmmintj Journal. MEMOIRS OF A HUNGARIAN LADY. MADAME PULSZKY. WRITTEN by HERSELF. 2 vols., 12s. boiind. " Worthy of a place by the side of the Memoirs of Madame de Stael and Madame Campan."— Gfo6e. MEMOIRS OF A GREEK LADY, THE ADOPTED DAUGHTEE OF THE LATE QUEEN CAROLINE. WRITTEN by HERSELF. 2 vols., post Svo, price 12s. bound. 12 INTERESTING WORKS Now ready, Part XL, price 6s., of M. A. THIERS' HISTORY OF FRANCE UNDER NAPOLEON. A SEQUEL TO HIS HISTORY OF THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. As guardian to the archives of the state, M. Thiers had access to diplomatic papers and other documents of the highest importance, hitherto known only to a j)nvileged few. From private sources M. Thiers has also derived much valuable uifonnafion. Many interesting memoirs, diaries, and letters, all hitherto unpub- lished, and most ot them destmed for political reasons to remain so, have been placed at his disposal ; while all the leading characters of the empure, who were alive when the author undertook the present history, have supplied liim with a mass of incidents and anecdotes which have never before appeared in print. *,* The public are requested to be particular in giving their orders for " Colbcrn's Authorised Translation." N.B. Any of the Parts may, for the present, be had separately, at 58. each ; .nnd subscribers are recommended to complete their sots as soon as possible, to prevent disappointment. RUSSIA UNDER THE AUTOCRAT NICHOLAS I. Br IVAN GOLOVINE, A Russian Subject. Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., with a full-length Portrait of the Emperor, 10s. bound. *' These are volumes of an extremely interesting nature, emanating from the pen of a Russian, noble by birth, who has escaped oeyoud the reach of the Czar's power. The merits of the work are very considerable. It throws a new hght on the state of the empire — its aspect, political and domestic — its manners; the employes about the palace, court, and capital ; its police ; its spies ; its depraved society," &c. — Sunday Times. GENERAL PEPE'S NARRATIVE OF THE WAR IN ITALY, FROM 1847 to 1850; INCLUDING THE SIEGE OF VENICE. Now first published from the original Italian Manuscript. Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo, 10s. bound. " We predict that posterity will accept Gi-ncrnl Pepe as the historian of the ^reat Italian movement of the nineteenth century. His work is worthy of all commendation." — Standard. MEMOIRS AND CORUESPONDEXCE OF SIR ROBERT MURRAY KEITH, K.B., Minister Plcnipotentian/ at the Courts of Dresden, Copcnhafjoi, and ViennOj from 1765) to 17y3 ; with liiographical Memoirs of QUEEN CAROLINE MATILDA, SISTER OF (iEORGE III. Cheaper Edition. Two vols., post 8vo, with Portraits, 158. bound. PUBLISHED FOR HENRY COLBURN. 13 THE CRESCENT AND THE CROSS; OR, ROMANCE AND REALITIES OF EASTERN TRAVEL. By ELIOT WARBURTON, Esq. Tenth Edition, revised, in 1 vol., with numerous Illustrations, 10s. 6d. bound. " A book calculated to prove more practically useful was never penned than the * Crescent and the Cross' — a work which surpasses all others in its homage for the sublime and its love for the beautiful in those famous regions consecrated to everlasting immortality in the annals of the prophets — anawhicli no other modem writer has ever depicted with a, pencil at once so reverent and so pic- turesque." — Sun. LORD LINDSAY'S LETTERS ON THE HOLY LAND. Fourth Edition, Revised, 1 vol., post 8vo, with Illustrations, Gs. bound. *' Lord Lindsay has felt and recorded what he saw with the wisdom of a philo- sopher, and the faith of an enlightened Christian." — Quarterly lieview. NARRATIVE OF A TWO YEARS' RESIDENCE AT NINEVEH; With Remarks on the Chaldeans, Nestorians, Yezidccs, &c. By the Rev. J. P. FLETCHER. Cheaper Edition. Two vols., post 8vo, 15s. bound. JAPAN AND THE JAPANESE, Comprising the Narrative of a Throe Years' Residence in Japan, with an Account of British Commercial Intercourse with that Country. L/ CAPTAIN GOLOWNIN. New and Ciieapeu Edition. 2 vols, post 8vo, 10s. bound. "No European has been able, from personal observation and experience, to com- municate a tenth part of tho intelligence furnished by this writer." — Britisk Review. ADVENTURES IN GEORGIA, CIRCASSIA, AND RUSSIA. By Lieutenant-Colonel G. POULETT CAMERON, C.B., K.T.S., &c. 2 vols., post 8vo, bound, 12s. 14 INTERESTING WORKS Bh' m CAPTAINS KING AND FITZROY. NARRATIVE OF THE TEN YEARS' VOYAGE ROUND THE WORLD, OF H.M.S. ADVENTURE AND BEAGLE. Cheaper Edition, in 2 large vols. 8vo, witli Maps, Charts, and upwards of Sixty Illustrations, by Landseer, and other eminents Artists, price 1/. lis. 6d. bound. " One of the most interesting narratives of voyaging that it has fallen to our lot to notice, and which must always occupy a distinguished space iu the history of scientific navigation." — Quarterly Review. HOCHELAGA; OR, ENGLAND IN THE NEW WORLD. Edited by ELIOT WARBURTON, Esq., Author of « The Crescent and the Cross." Fourth and Cheaper Edition, 2 vols., post 8vo, with Illustrations, 10s. 6d. bound. " This work possesses almost every qualification of a good book — sound and enlarged views of important