I
 
 THE LIBRARY 
 
 OF 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY 
 
 OF CALIFORNIA 
 
 LOS ANGELES 
 
 GIFT
 
 
 LECTURES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND.
 
 xS-
 
 LECTURES 
 
 ON THE 
 
 HISTORY OF ENGLAND 
 
 BY 
 
 M. J. GUEST 
 
 117 77/ MATS 
 
 onion 
 
 M ACM I LLA X A X I) CO. 
 
 AN'D NKW FORK
 
 First Edition Printed 1879 
 Reprinted 1884, 1888, 1891, 1893.
 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 In these days of many books it seems necessary to give a few- 
 words of apology or explanation for venturing to add another to 
 the number, especially on a subject already so well worked as to 
 be almost trite. The only apology I can offer is, that in writing 
 the- I I had no most distant intention of making a book. 
 
 They u nine Lectures, given week by week to a class of 
 
 students in the College for Men and Women in Queen Square. 
 
 My pupils and I having wandered for some time in the 
 intricate mazes of modern English Grammar, and finding the 
 Btudy somewhat barren, I proposed thai we Bhonld turn our 
 attention to English History, as likely to bring more interest, 
 variety, and frnitf ulness to our work. When I began to prepare 
 the I . I found indeed innumerable books, but no book, 
 
 no one book, which was not either too learned, too copious, too 
 trivia], or too condensed for my exact purpose. I had neither 
 power nor ambition to bring new material--, but I had to ch< 
 and shape afre h tho e already so bountifully provided, in order 
 t ■ reach my aim, which was to awaken a real and vivid into 
 in o noble a study as that of the Life and growth of England 
 through 2000 yeai , 
 
 Whilst owning obligatioi o many, 1 may, perhaps, be 
 
 permitted to express n i] indebtedness to Mr. Green, not 
 
 only for the constanl guidance of his mo I original and delightful
 
 vi PREFACE. 
 
 ' History of the English People,' but also for his valuable sugges- 
 tions as to the authorities most helpful in the study of each 
 period. 
 
 It seemed likely that others might have felt a need similar to 
 my own, and that the Lectures might he useful to readers as 
 well as hearers. 
 
 A point which, perhaps, needs explanation is the large number 
 of quotations and extracts I have given. My reason for doing 
 this was the great desire I felt to induce my pupils to read for 
 themselves ; to enjoy individually the same delight which I 
 found in the old literature of our country ; to live themselves 
 back as far as possible into the very times of which we were 
 speaking; to breathe the same air, think the same thoughts, feel 
 the same feelings as our fathers had done. 
 
 Tc read or hear the facts, opinions, and inferences gleaned by 
 another person from those old books is like reading travels in 
 unknown lands, and seeing them with the traveller's ejes; but 
 to study the old books themselves is like travelling in those 
 lands and seeing them with our own. The very first advice my 
 book is meant to enforce is — Lead, read for yourselves. 
 
 If I may seem occasionally to abate somewhat of the respect 
 due from a writer to his unknown readers, my excuse must be, 
 that in preparing these Lectures for the press I have never been 
 able to forget the kindly faces of the dear friends and pupils 
 who surrounded me when they were first given, and who made 
 my work so truly a labour of love
 
 CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE I.— PRE-HISTORIC ENGLAND. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Pre-historic England and its inhabitants. The palaeolithic period— 
 man and the contemporary animals. The neolithic period. The 
 bronze period ... ... •■ •• ••• 1 
 
 LECTURE [I.— THE ROMANS. 
 
 The Romans— then a in the world at the beginning oi 
 
 British bisto eir armies, navy, colonies, religion, and 
 
 morality- their laws— treatment of Buhject nations habits and 
 amusements -their slave 
 
 LECTURE til— THE BRITONS. 
 
 The ancient Briton their lac aage, religion, education, commerce, 
 and arts -their] on the Continenl -their connection with 
 
 (he great Aryan family their de wendants in the present day ... 19 
 
 LECTURE IV. THE ROM INS [N BRITAIN. 
 
 Julius Ca u in Gaul. Invasion of Britain. A pricola. I 
 of civilization, [ntroduction of Christianity
 
 viii CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE V— THE TEUTONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The decay of the Roman Empire. Origin of the English people. 
 The Germans 01 Teutons — their laws, manners, language, and 
 religion ... ... ... ... ... ... .. 36 
 
 LECTURE VI.— THE DEPARTURE OF THE ROMANS 
 AND THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH. 
 
 Departure of the Romans. The Picts and Scots. The settlements 
 of the English— their treatment of the Britons. Cerdic. Arthur. 44 
 
 LECTURE VII.— THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 
 
 The introduction of Christianity. Gregory the Great. State of 
 Christianity in the sixth century. Civilizing influence of the 
 Cliristian teachers. Monasteries. Bede ... ... ... 51 
 
 LECTURE VIII.— THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH 
 
 KINGDOMS. 
 
 The kingdoms of the English. The " Bretwalda." Egbert. The 
 Danes. St. Edmund ... ... ... ... ... 61 
 
 LECTURE IX.— ALFRED. 
 
 King Alfred. His education. His wars with the Danes. The 
 Treaty of Wedmore. The time of peace. Alfred's work in law, 
 justice, religion, and education. His books. ... ... 69 
 
 LECTURE X.— ENGLAND IN PROSPERITY. 
 
 Alfred's descendants. Ethelstane. Condition of the people. Ranks 
 of society. The poor. Slavery. Treatment of women. Food, 
 amusements, dress, buildings. The names for the months ... 84
 
 CONTENTS. ix 
 
 LECTURE XL— DUNSTAN. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The kings after Ethelstane. Edgar the Peaceable. The wolf- 
 tribute. The vassal kings. St. Dunstan. The religion of the 
 period. Superstitions. Witches. The ordeal ... ... 95 
 
 LECTURE XII.— THE UNREADY. 
 
 The sons of Edgar. The Battle of Maldon. Tribute to the Danes. 
 Massacre of St. Brice. Swend. Ethelred's flight. Normandy 
 and the Normans. Edmund Ironside ... ... ■•■ 10-4 
 
 LECTURE XIII.-CNUT. 
 
 A Danish king— his fierce beginning— his reform— his religion— 
 pilgrimage to Rome — his letter— his sons ... ... ••• 115 
 
 LECTURE XIV.— THE CONFESSOR. 
 
 Edward the I mfi or. The Normans and the English. The 
 English party and Earl Godwine. Godwine's banishment and 
 return. Barold. Westminster Abbey ... ... ... 125 
 
 LECTURE XY.— THE CONQUEST. 
 
 Election of Barold. Battle of Stamford Bridge. Battle of Ba i- 
 
 in_'-. Coronation of William the Conqueror. Effects of the 
 
 Norman Conquest on the Engli b character on the English 
 
 lair n.i ... ... ... ... ... ... L35 
 
 LECTURE XVI. THE CONQUEROR. 
 
 The foreigners in England. The feudal system. The ca ties. 
 Rising of the Engli h. Deva tation of Northumberland. The 
 New Forest. Appointments in the Church. B i tance to 
 Papal encroachment Death of the Conqueror ... L48
 
 x CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE XVII. -THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 William Rums. His brother Robert. The king and the barons. 
 The English people. Anselm. The Crusades. Henry Beauclerc. 
 His marriage. The English take his part. Peace, order, and 
 justice. Stephen and Matilda. Misery of the country. The 
 agreement and promised reform. Death of Stephen ... ... 157 
 
 LECTURE XVIII.-HENRY PLANTAGENET. 
 
 Character of Henry. His marriage. His dominions. Distinction 
 between English and Normans disappears. Destruction of the 
 castles. Condition of Ireland. The conquest ... ... 170 
 
 LECTURE XIX.-CHURCH AND STATE. 
 
 Disputes between Church and State. Investitures. Ecclesiastical 
 Courts. Thomas a Becket as chancellor— as archbishop. Ex- 
 communication. Death of Becket. He is looked on as a saint. 
 Henry does penance ... ... .. ... ... 178 
 
 LECTURE XX— THE SONS OF HENRY. 
 
 Henry's family troubles. His death. Richard Cceur-de-Lion. 
 Chivalry. Richard's absence from England. John Sans-terre. 
 Prince Arthur. Loss of Normandy ... ... ... 191 
 
 LECTURE XXL— MAGNA CHARTA. 
 
 The dispute with the Pope. Stephen Langton. John becomes the 
 Pope's vassal The archbishop and the barons demand the 
 1 barter. The changes it introduced. John breaks the Charter. 
 The French invasion. Death oi John ... ... ... 202 
 
 LECTURE XXII.— HENRY III. RELIGION AND 
 EDUCATION. 
 
 Gotnic architecture and Westminster Abbey. Extortions of the 
 Pope. The Grey Friars and the Black Friars. The universitie . 
 Roger Bacon .. ... ... ... ... ... 216
 
 CONTENTS. xi 
 
 LECTURE XXIII. -THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 The foreigners. The king's extravagance. Demands for money. 
 The barons resist. Simon de Montfort. The parliament. 
 Character of Prince Edward The last Crusade ... ...■ 227 
 
 LECTURE XXIV. -EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 
 
 Edward's government. Dispute about taxation. Humphrey Bolnm. 
 The oil over-lordship of England in Wales and Scotland. The 
 Welsh people. Conquest of Wales . ... ... ... 23G 
 
 LECTURE XXV.- EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 
 
 The inhabitants of Scotland. The old laws. Candidates for the 
 »wn. Edward claims the over-lordship. John Balliol. The 
 first revolt. The first conquest. The Stone of Destiny ... 24G 
 
 LECTURE XXVI.-SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 
 
 Wallace. Ba Bridge. The second conquest. Battle 
 
 Falkirk. Robert Bruce. Bis coronation. Death of Edward 
 I. Battle of Bannockburn .. ... ... ... 257 
 
 LECTURE XXVII. CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 
 
 I ard [I. Hi mmands. Piers Qaveston. Tin' 
 
 Lords Ordainera. The Di The queen. Deposition of 
 
 nd. Hi-; murder. Edward III- The French wars. 
 IV i. ut. The Black Prince. Battle of Crecy. Calais ... 267 
 
 LECTURE XXVIII. GLORY. AND SORROW. 
 
 •!.• ..f Poitiers. The Black Death. Thi I 
 
 A.q 'I'll- Black Prince and the parliament Death of 
 
 the prii
 
 xii CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE XXIX.-MEDI^EVAL ENGLAND. 
 
 PAOE 
 
 The English people five hundred years ago. The language. The 
 writers. The friars. The clergy ... ... ... ... 288 
 
 LECTURE XXX.— MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND (continued). 
 
 The knights. The state of education. The households, dress, and 
 luxury of the rich. The condition of the poor ... ... 296 
 
 LECTURE XXXI.- NEW ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 Wycliffe. The English Bible. Richard II. Wat Tyler and the 
 insurrection of the people. Its results ... ... ... 30G 
 
 LECTURE XXXII. —RICHARD THE REDELESS. 
 
 Character of Richard. His uncles. Troubles of the reign. Death 
 of the Duke of Gloucester. Richard aims at absolute power. 
 Henry of Lancaster. His banishment. His return. Deposition 
 of Richard ... ... ... ... ... ... 318 
 
 LECTURE XXXIII.— HENRY OF LANCASTER. 
 
 The Lollards. Persecution. Prince Harry. The Border Wars. 
 Percy and Douglas. Owen Glendower. Battle of Shrewsbury. 
 The King of Scotland ... ... ... ... ... 326 
 
 LECTURE XXXIV.— THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 
 
 Character of Henry V. Lord Cobham and the Lollards. The war 
 with France. Harfleur. Battle of Agincourt. Rouen. Treaty 
 ofTr.jyes. The king's marriage. His death and burial ... 335
 
 CONTEXTS. xiii 
 
 LECTURE XXXV. -FRANCE RECOVERS. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Henry VI. The Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester. Cardinal Beau- 
 fort. The Maid of Orleans. Coronation of Charles VII. of 
 France. Death of the Maid ... ... ... ... 347 
 
 LECTURE XXXVI.— LOSS OF FRANCE AND TROUBLES 
 
 IN ENGLAND. 
 
 End of the Hundred Years' War. Margaret of Anjou. Death of 
 Gloucester and Suffolk. Cade's revolt. The principal actors in 
 the War.-, of the Roses ... ... ... ... ... 357 
 
 LECTURE XXXVII.— WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 Tlie old nobility and their armies. End of the feudal system. 
 Causes of the war. Condition of the people. Edward IV. His 
 marriage. Vicissitudes ... ... ... ... ... 3(j!) 
 
 LECTURE XXXVIII.— THE END OF THE WAR. 
 
 Caxtou and the printing-press. Richard [II. His victims. Murder 
 oftheyoun | i. Henry Tudor. Battle of Bosworth Field 379 
 
 LECTURE XXXIX. -THE RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Peace after war. Henry VII. His character. He suppn es the 
 power of the nobles. England prospera Discover) of America 
 The revival of learning ... ... ... ... 390 
 
 LECTURE XL.— THE STATE OF RELIGION. 
 
 Worldlinesa of the Church. The menu terii . The Oxford re- 
 formers. The New Testament. Henry \ 111. an I D< an Colet 40 I
 
 xiv CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE XLI.— THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey. His rise and greatness. Henry and Katherine. 
 Fall of Wolsey. Tlie Pope's supremacy renounced. Tlie king 
 declared head of the Church. Deaths of More and Fisher ... 411 
 
 LECTURE XLIL— THE REFORMERS. 
 
 Cranraer and Cromwell. The English Bible. Tyndale. Tlie New 
 Testament burnt at St. Paul's. Tlie Bible published by authority. 
 Dissolution of the monasteries. Death of Henry VIII. ... 422 
 
 LECTURE XLIIL— THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 
 
 Edward VI. Protector Somerset. The Reformation urged forward. 
 Revolt in the west. Revolt in the east. Death of Somerset. 
 Death of Edward. Lady Jane Grey. Mary and Philip. Roman- 
 ism restored. The Protestant martyrs ... ... ... 4.T2 
 
 LECTURE XLIV.-TIIE TWO QUEENS. 
 
 Elizabeth. Her character. Her ministers. The Church and tlie 
 Puritans. Mary, Queen of Scots. Babington's conspiracy. Trial 
 and execution of Mary ... ... ... ... ... 446 
 
 LECTURE XLV.-GLORIANA. 
 
 The Spanish Armada. The English fleet. The English sailors. The 
 conflict. England's triumph. Literature. Shakespeare and the 
 theatre. Death of Elizabeth ... ... ... ...455 
 
 LECTURE XLVL— JAMES OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 The Stuarts. The divine right of kings. James and the Church of 
 En-land. The Puritans and the Romanists. The Pilgrim 
 Fathers. Gunpowdei Treason ... ... ... .. 4G2
 
 CONTENTS. xv 
 
 LECTURE XLVIL— THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The royal prerogative. The parliament. Charles I. The Cavaliers 
 and the Roundheads. Strafford and Land. Ship-money. Hamp- 
 den. The Prayer-book in Scotland ... ... ... 408 
 
 LECTURE XLVIII.— THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 The Long Parliament. The five members. The war begins. Oliver 
 Cromwell. His army. Trial and execution of the king. The 
 military despotism. Battle of Worcester ... ... ... 479 
 
 LECTURE XLIX.-TIIE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 
 
 The rule of Oliver. The fame of England. Death of Oliver. The 
 army supreme. Recall of Charles II. Reaction against the 
 Puritans. The Plague and the Fire ... ... ... 492 
 
 LECTURE L.— THE LAST STUART KINGS. 
 
 Charles and the King of France. Progress of learning. Death of 
 Charles. James II. Rebellion of Monmouth, The "Bloody 
 A i.' -.-:' The king favours Romanism, and breaks the laws. 
 The seven bishops. Birth of a prince. William of Orange. 
 
 The flight of Jan . . ... ... ... ... 504 
 
 LECTURE LI. THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 
 
 i: • of the Revolution, William and Mary. Religious toleration. 
 The war in Ireland. The French flee! invades England. Liberty 
 of the pre Death of James II. The French king proclaims 
 Prince Jami Kin ol England. Death of \\ ilham ... ... 518 
 
 LECTURE LII. WHIGS AM- TORIES. 
 
 Queen Ann" and the Churchill , War irith Prance. Battle of Blen 
 lienn. Peace of Utrecht. Negro slaves. Scotland. George oi 
 Banover. Whigs and Tories. Attempl of the Stuart prim 52S
 
 xvi CONTENTS. 
 
 LECTURE LIII.-SLEEP AND WAKING. 
 
 PASB 
 
 The Whigs and Walpole. Decline of enthusiasm. Foreign wars. 
 Disasters and despondency. The elder Pitt. Canada and 
 Wolfe. India and Clive. The Methodists ... ... ... 542 
 
 LECTURE LIV.— THE ENGLISH GEORGE. 
 
 George III. The American colonies. Policy of England. Declara- 
 tion of Independence. The slave trade. Wilberforce. The 
 younger Pitt. The French Revolution ... .. ... 552 
 
 LECTURE LV.-THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. 
 
 The English sailors. Nelson. The Battle of Trafalgar. Napoleon 
 Bonaparte. The Duke of Wellington. The Peninsular War- 
 Waterloo 561 
 
 CONCLUSION 569 
 
 LIST OF MAPS. 
 
 1. ENGLAND AND HER DEPENDENCIES, 1878 Front. 
 
 2. PHYSIOGRAPHY 01' GREAT BRITAIN IN LATE PLEISTOCENE 
 
 age To/ace p. 2 
 
 3. FRANCE DURING THE FRENCH WARS ,, ■, P- 34(3 
 
 4. MODERN ENGLAND ,, ,, p. 568
 
 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND. 
 
 LECTURE I.-PRE-IIISTORIC ENGLAND. 
 
 Pre-historic England and its inhabitants. The palaeolithic period— man 
 and the contemporary animals. The neolithic period. The bronze 
 period. 
 
 1. Wb all love out country dearly; and though, perhaps, we 
 hardly know why, we feel proud of bein^ English men and women. 
 Sometimes we may be inclined to feel a little too proml of it, and 
 to think ourselves ;t great <l tal better than the rest of tin; world ; 
 but with'. lit boa tin.'. \v<- have some ground for honest pridt ; 
 without boasting, we may truly say that the English are free, 
 brave, kindly, and just. < )ur country is beautiful ami fertile ; our 
 :i. lull ol' comforts; our shelves tilled with noble books; 
 our children gathered into happy schools ; our sick into splendid 
 hospitals. Our language i- spoken over immense tracta <>t' the 
 
 earth's surface; OUr BbipS are in every harbour ; and \vlni< 
 
 we have [tower anil Influence we. Btrive, in the main, •• to break 
 oppression, and »e1 the captive free." There are. many things we 
 still wish t" amend, many things we have to blush tor; hut. on 
 the whole we b I i be proud of our country and our 
 
 name. 
 
 2. II" v 'li'l we come to be what we are I 
 
 That is what the history of England teaches us; and Burely 
 every son and daughter of England ought to know something 
 aboul it. 
 
 :;. Now when we are taughl history, as, indeed, when we are 
 to! i anything, we have a good ri : I " I " true ' 'II >w 
 
 do you know?" We generally con ider that the verj bestreason 
 we cau have for being sure of anything is the evidence of our 
 own eyes and And this is certainly a very »und 
 
 of belief ; though, perha till better one i the evidence of the 
 
 B
 
 2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 eyes and senses of a wise and sensible observer, more experienced 
 than ourselves. Of things which happened a long while ago 
 we cannot have the evidence of our own eyesight ; but we may 
 have that of other men. If we get a sensible book or letter, 
 written by a person on the spot when the thing happened, and 
 there is nothing very improbable or unreasonable in the thing 
 itself (even if that was hundreds of years ago), it is a very 
 good reason for believing it. And the first written statement 
 we have about our country is of that kind. 
 
 4. AVe are not concerned with that at present ; but throughout 
 these lectures, the grounds on which we believe the statements 
 made, shall be explained, and if possible, the very words of the 
 man who first told the tale, quoted. But this first lecture is 
 occupied with matters which were not written down by any one 
 living at the time, nor for thousands of years after ; yet for all 
 that the facts arc true, and the proofs will appear as we go on. 
 When Robinson Crusoe saw the foot-print in the sand, he did not 
 want a book or a letter to tell him " there has been a man here." 
 
 5. Our History of England shall begin with an account of the 
 very first men we know of who lived here. Strange as it may 
 
 sound, at that time there were no British Isles at 
 period a ^ 1 England, Scotland, Wales, and Ireland were all 
 joined on to the mainland of Europe. (See map.) 
 It is clear from the enormous quantities of ice we see in this map 
 that it must have been much colder then than it is now. J Jut 
 though we have now no snowy mountains ami no glaciers, Eng- 
 land is in the same latitudes as Labrador, which is now as cold 
 as Greenland and Iceland; and it is well known to physical 
 geographers, that England was formerly in a somewhat similar 
 condition. 
 
 ti. 1 n spit e of the cold, there were a very great number of animals 
 
 living in England at that time, which it would surprise us very 
 
 much to find anywhere now out of the Zoological 
 
 Gardens. There were two kinds of elephants; two 
 
 kinds of rhinoceroses; lions larger than those now 
 
 living in Asia and Africa; bears equal in size to large horses ; huge 
 
 hyaenas, hippopotai bisons, reindeer; very large stags and 
 
 elks, besides many other smaller animals. Here you have a goi "1 
 
 right to ask the question, '■ How do you know 1 " The answer is 
 
 that in a great many parts of England, in very old caves, and 
 
 buried in very old gravel, the hones, horns, teeth, and tusks of 
 
 these creatures have been found in large numbers. Learned 
 
 men can tell one animal's bone or tooth from another as well as
 
 Fcgroe 
 
 
 
 m 
 
 Bhadi 
 
 ^' i V::'<V^fey.:-.' , :'v'- : t :'';':'-r. 
 
 V'.i /'.i. ,■ pap« 2. 
 PHYSIOOBAPffV of Gbeat Bl ' \i.i . 
 
 iw anbmerged ; Dotted an copied to animal* ; Plain area Ifc 
 
 occupied l>j Glaciers,
 
 i.] PRE-niSTORIC ENGLAND. 3 
 
 we can tell the live creatures from each other. That is as good 
 proof as Robinson Crusoe's footprint. 
 
 7. This seems to prove very clearly that England could 
 not have been an island then. For how would all these great 
 creatures have got over the seal They could not have swum 
 so far; and it is certain, even if men had come across in 
 , they would not have wanted to bring these fierce wild 
 beasts with them. Another thing is, that in many parts of the 
 be! ween England and the Continent, fishermen are frequently 
 dredging up bones ami ti-eth of the same animals, which had lived 
 and died in those parts when they were still dry land. And the 
 same sorts of bones, tusks, &c, are found in great numbers on the 
 mainland opposite to England. The sea is not very deep in any 
 part of the German Ocean, and it is known by other proofs that 
 Bometimea land rises above the sea, and sometimes sinks below it. 
 >. Now amongst all these great, fierce, and strong animals, 
 there was another remarkable animal living, much smaller than 
 the lions and elephants, and apparently very helpless. The linns 
 had enormous strength in claws and teeth; this poor creature 
 had no clawB, and very small teeth. The elephant and rhino- 
 old crush an enemy with their weight ; the elephant has 
 huge tusks. The hyaena had wonderfully powerful jaws. 
 We all know about a "bear's hug." This poor thing had uo 
 nor great beavj Limbs. The hison.s and elks had horns j 
 this creature had none. Tien, for the cold climate, many of the 
 animal-, even the elephant- and rhinoceroses, had woolly or furry 
 or maie . This creature had a bare skin, with no fur, no 
 wool, and very little hair. 
 
 9. Which of all the e creatures was likely to bo crushed, 
 devoured, and I imped oul first 1 
 
 Yq\ that very one is living, triumphant lord and master; and 
 where are the lions and elephants, the bears and the hyaenas? 
 
 Gone for ever, every oi them; al an) rate out of England, 
 
 hut many of t lean oul of t he whole world. 
 
 10. And now, how could this be, which is as wonderful 
 let in hi tory, perhap the most wonderful of alii That, 
 
 P tor defenci ire, though he had no hoi □ i M 
 
 nor cl iv , had what none of t he other had a mar 
 vellous power of thought and a marvellous power of improvi 
 merit No other animal could come near him in that. And by 
 that— by thoughl and by intelligence he mbdued or nrvived 
 all the others. 8el in the mid I of all the e fierce enemie . and 
 bo helpless, he thought of what no brute has ever Lu the world 
 
 13 2
 
 4 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. | . e t. 
 
 thought of — he thought; of making a tool; something that he 
 could use instead of all the weapons they had growing on them 
 by nature. And though his first tools were very rude and rough, 
 tlit'V were the wonderful beginning of all the innumerable tilings 
 we have to help us in our works. Of course these wild savage men 
 could not write to tell us of their tools, but we have just as good 
 proof of them as Ave had of the elephants, &c, for they are dug up 
 in multitudes in the very same places where the horns and tusks 
 are found, and may be seen in the British and other Museums. 
 
 11. These earliest tools were naturally made of stones, bones, or 
 horns. Men bad not yet, nor for a very long time after, the idea 
 
 of working in metals. They picked up a stone, and 
 His nrst ag we ji ag th ev could, shaped it to a point, or a cutting 
 
 edge ; it could then be used as a hatchet, a knife, an 
 awl, or an arrow-head. They used it, no doubt, for all sorts of 
 purposes, especially for killing animals and cutting up the flesh. 
 But they could also make a peaceable tool, such as we use now 
 — namely, a needle. Their needles were made of the bone of 
 reindeer or horses, carefully smoothed and rounded on frag- 
 ments of sandstone, and the eyes neatly pierced with a sharp 
 stone awl. As they had no thread, and knew nothing about 
 spinning or weaving, they most likely wore clothes of skin, or 
 the bark of trees, and threaded their needles for sewing them 
 with the tendons of reindeer. Probably they used tendons 
 also for bow-strings. 
 
 12. Another thing these savage men could do was to make a 
 fire; for in the caves where they lived their old hearths have 
 been discovered, and great quantities of charcoal. Most likely they 
 
 ted their meat, for they had not yet learned to make pots or 
 saucepans. Nor had they learned to make houses; at least, all 
 we can find out about their dwellings is, that they lived in 
 
 - when they could find them. As the hyaenas, lions, and 
 bears also liked the caves, we may be sure there were many 
 fights who should get possession of them, and sometimes the men 
 conquered, and sometimes the wild beasts. They had not yet 
 learned to till the ground, but lived, as the lowest savages 
 always do, only by hunting and fishing. They do not appear 
 to have bad any domestic animal, not even a dog. 
 
 13. But though so savage, they were fond of ornaments! The 
 skeleton of one, of these men has been found (though not in 
 
 land) with bracelets of sea-shells round the arms and wrists, 
 knees and ankles. They also adorned themselves with heads of 
 coral and teeth of animals.
 
 i.] PRE-HISTORIC ENGLAND. 5 
 
 Stranger still ; some of them could draw, or as Ave should 
 r.ither say " engrave," or incise on pieces of bone or ivory. One 
 of those ancient ariists made a picture of an elephant, such as 
 lived at that time, (now called a mammoth,) which had a long 
 hairy coat and mane. As no such elephants exist now in the 
 world, we should have thought this a fancy of the artist, had 
 it not been for the discovery, in Siberia, of the frozen bodies of 
 some of the very same animals, which had been buried in ice, 
 and frozen gravel for more thousands of years than one can say, 
 with the fur and hair still in good preservation. 
 
 1 4. The people who lived before history was written, and of 
 whom we know nothing but from what they left behind them, 
 are named by us after the tools they used. Those just described 
 are called " palaeolithic," meaning "ancient stone," because their 
 tools were principally made of stone; and at- tin's period were, 
 very different from those of the next .set of people we know 
 anything about. 
 
 L5. These, are called " neolithic," meaning "new stone." They 
 greatly improved in many ways from the palaeolithic men. 
 Foi one thing, they could make their tools much 
 
 >r. They still made then, of stones: but they Th « second 
 had learned to shape and polish them beautifully, so 
 thai they were far more convenient and useful. By this time the 
 
 it wild beasts had disappeared ; instead of lions and elephants, 
 
 we find with the polished itone implements the remains of dogs, 
 
 sheep, and goats. Very likely Britain was an island 
 
 by this time, hut was larger than it, is now; for there were great 
 
 ; growing where there is now sea On many parts of the 
 
 may still be ieen, at low water, the relics of these 
 
 forests, stumps of large trees, &c, sunk beneatb the sea. Mo t 
 
 of the counl ry wa i <■,,•, ered with roc! . fore I , and moi 
 
 which afforded shelter to elks, bisons, and reindeer. Reindeer 
 
 I to be found growing on some of the old commons 
 
 London ; al K< jton, for in tance. 
 
 16. The neolithic men had Injun to be more civilized in their 
 t 'I hey eem to h.r. e eaten corn, and to h.i\ e ki pi tame; 
 
 animals, instead of depending only on the chase. 
 I ••)', pork, and bar< hoi i . and ~J?5 7 e " 
 
 Some learned men believe that they wi 
 cannibals, and ate human flesh al o, but I 'I" nol think this can 
 be proved, They had stone implements for crushing or grinding 
 torn 
 
 fhey had al o learnt two other greul arl i, though they v.
 
 6 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 still very rude : the making of pottery, and spinning and weaving, 
 sea of rough pottery arc often found in their caves, and some 
 pieces of woven stuff, either of straw or of flax, and also stone 
 Bpindle-whorls. 
 
 17. As far as we can judge, though they sometimes lived in 
 caves, they had also learned to make a rude kind of house. It 
 was most likely the neolithic men who raised many of the mounds 
 or tumuli, of which there are great numbers in England, as well 
 as in other parts of Europe, and which are generally tombs. 
 Many of them have been opened, and skeletons found in them. 
 Sometimes they contain a large, hollow chamber, with walls of 
 big, rough stones, and a stone passage leading to it. Within 
 the chamber may be found a number of skeletons, sitting or 
 crouching just as they were buried. With the human beings 
 were often buried the things which in life they valued most; 
 with warriors, their weapons ; with "ladies," as Sir John Lub- 
 bock calls them, their ornaments. "When a great man died, he 
 was placed on his favourite seat; food and drink were set before 
 him; his weapons placed by his side; his house was closed — 
 sometimes to be opened again when his Avife or children joined 
 him." So it seems that the tumuli may have been sometimes 
 the real houses where the people had lived ; and sometimes they 
 were, perhaps, imitations of them. Many people think that 
 both these and the palaeolithic men showed a belief in the im- 
 mortality of the soul by providing their dead with necessaries 
 and pleasures. They probably thought that the weapons, food, 
 A <•., had a kind of spirit also, which would attend the spirit of 
 tie' man after the death of his bodv. 
 
 The neolithic men were rather a small race — their skeletons 
 show that tlnv were about five feet five inches in height. The 
 implements they could make were, among others, axes, wedges, 
 chisels, hammers, poniards, and lance-heads. They could also 
 make ornaments of gold. 
 
 18. After this, we come to another period, where another great 
 advance is discernible. Men had by this time learned to work 
 
 , . in metals. If you will think over all the implements 
 
 The third i -n /. i i 
 
 period ve ln colnm "" " s, '> .V'-" 1 w 'll find we scarcely 
 
 ever use anything made of stone, or bone, or horn. 
 
 Almost all our tools and weapons are of metal — knives, ploughs, 
 
 spades, swords, guns, needles, &C. It was a vast step forward to 
 
 have found out how to work metals. Gold, which the neolithic 
 
 people had employed for ornaments, is soft and easy to work, 
 
 but of very little use either for sharpness or strength. Our tools
 
 s 
 
 i.] PRE-HISTORIC ENGLAND. 7 
 
 are, of course, principally made of iron, but that was far too dif- 
 ficult a metal to begin with. Copper seems to have been the first 
 'ul metal noticed by man. Iron is hardly ever found, except in 
 ore ; but copper is often found native, and, not being very hard, 
 it can be beaten into shape. Iron is difficult to cast, but copper 
 is very easy. It seems, however, to have been soon discovered 
 that copper is more serviceable when mixed with a small quan- 
 tity of tin. It is then called bronze: and bronze is the com- 
 monest metal found in ancient deposits. 2STo implement ot 
 .pure tin has ever been found, and hardly any of pure copper ; 
 but many thousands of bronze implements have been found in 
 England, Ireland, and various parts of Europe; therefore this 
 period is called the bronze period. 
 
 19. It is not certain whether the people who made the bronze 
 implements were the descendants of the neolithic men, but it 
 appears most probable that they were, and that they had 
 gradually progressed. It is almost certain that we have many 
 of their descendants among us still, and are even partly of their 
 race ourselves. 
 
 20. These people seem to have quite given up living in caves, 
 and had learnt to build houses. We do not know much about 
 their houses from anything found in England, but 
 
 >who lived in Switzerland made curious villages s , „«. 
 
 ii ,i , i i '?• i improvement, 
 
 in tli'' lakes, supported on strong piles, and .so did 
 
 those who lived in Wales and Ireland. In the Swiss lakes, round 
 
 about the remains of the old piles, innumerable relies have been 
 
 found, which tell u 1 deal about, the way of life of these 
 
 people. We may even see the very food they used to eat. 
 
 21. They had a great deal of corn. Bushels of grain have been 
 found, ami even pieces of bread, or, rather, unleavened cakes 
 about an inch thick; wild apples and pears, sometimes cut in 
 halves or quarters, dried, and stored up for winter use; .-tours 
 of wild plum . eed "i ra pberries and blackberries, shells of 
 hazel nuts. They had also domestic animals. 
 
 22. They could certainly weave linen ; for many remains of 
 linen 1 1 !<• have been found in England among their bronze imple- 
 menl ome of the tumuli. But we know a greal deal about 
 their dress; for in I Denmark the grave and coffin of a chief were 
 opened, and his wlio], : nit of clothes was found, as ii he had 
 been buried in them. The body was very much changed; the 
 bones were turned into a kind of blue powder; the brain was 
 the least changed of all. It was found .-it one end of the coffin, 
 covered by a thick woollen cap. The body had been wrapped
 
 8 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 in a coarse woollen cloth, a woollen shirt, two shawls with long 
 fringes, leggings, and at the other end of the coffin were some 
 fragments of leather, doubtless the remains of boots or shoes. 
 We must own he had a very comfortable dress. In the coffin 
 with him were found also another cap, a small comb, and a 
 knife, packed in a little box, and by his side a bronze sword 
 in a wooden sheath. This man had probably died late in the 
 bronze period, for most generally in the earlier times the dead 
 were burned, and the ashes collected in an urn. 
 
 23. As to the implements they made, the commonest are called 
 "celts," which could be used for chisels, hoes, or axes, and 
 which were cast in moulds of sand. They could also make very 
 beautiful swords, with ornamental handles; daggers, spears, 
 arrows, knives, and fish-hooks; and pretty bracelets, brood ies, 
 hair-pins, and buttons; for they had by no means out-grown the 
 Live of ornaments. 
 
 They had likewise improved very much in making pottery, 
 and in decorating their jars and vases with different patterns. 
 lint they did not yet know how to make them flat at the 
 bottom, so as to stand steady; they were mostly round, and 
 nad to be supported on rings of earthenware. Many of tne 
 large vases seem to have been used for storing nuts and other 
 fruits for winter use. 
 
 It is supposed that these were the people who built Stone- 
 henge, that mysterious circle of stones on Salisbury Plain, which 
 ilwavs been considered one of the wonders of England; but 
 this is not quite certain. 
 
 L'i. When we come to what are called "historic" times, we 
 
 find the people of whom we read had left off using stone and 
 
 bronze, and had their tools and weapons made of 
 Iron. , a • • i 
 
 iron, as we have now. As iron is so much more 
 
 difficult to work than bronze, this shows that men must have 
 
 impro ! gTeatly in skill; but we know very little about the 
 
 way they first took to it. Only it, is believed that the first iron 
 
 used was not smelted out of ore, but was some of the " meteoric " 
 
 iron which sometimes falls from the sky, and which is almost 
 
 metal. Some of the oldest names for iron we know of — 
 
 the Greek and the Egyptian — mean the "starry" and the "sky- 
 
 '■," or "stone of heaven." And when they had found how 
 
 keen, how hard, how precious the heavenly metal was, they 
 
 would soon think it worth while to take a great deal of trouble 
 
 to purify that which they found mixed up with baser matters on 
 
 earth.
 
 n/| THE ROMANS. 
 
 LECTURE II.— THE ROMANS. 
 
 The Romans— their position in the world at the beginning of British his- 
 tory— their armies, navy, colonies, religion and morality; their laws — 
 i ' merit of subject nations— habits and amusements — their slaves. 
 
 1. When we come to "historic" times, that is, times in which 
 ibserved and wrote down the events which happened, we 
 do not, at first, find that the inhabitants of Britain did so about 
 themselves. But other and quite trustworthy people wrote of 
 them. 
 
 •1. It was mentioned in the last lecture that Great Britain and 
 Ireland used to be joined to the mainland of Europe, though long 
 re the historic period thai had ceased to be the case. Still there 
 I been a very close connection between our isles and 
 
 the Continent, and we can never understand the history of Eng- 
 1 ind without knowing something also about the state of Europe. 
 
 first people,from whose writings we learn any- 
 thing about our country and those who lived in it, 
 
 the Romans, who were foi several hundred years the most 
 important nation in the world. 
 
 :». They had conquered and made their own almost all the great 
 old nations of which we know anything, except 
 . i ia and Persia. The first civilized nation of 
 which we bear La Egypt, which we read of as great and powerful 
 i:, the in--' book of the Bible; we can see it al c for ourselvi - 
 in the great works they left behind -their pyramids, temples, 
 and sculpture-. That, country the Romans bad conquered. 
 Travelling eastward we come to Palestine; from which we nave 
 our religion ; our belief in one Clod, and our Bible. Thai too the 
 : had conquered. We all know from the New Testament 
 
 thai the Jews " bad no king bul l it." Then we come to 
 Syria and Phoenicia. The people of those countries were the first 
 greal sailors and merchants, and from them too we gel our letters 
 of the alphabet. Try and realize that wonderful invention, and 
 what we -bould be without it. To think of writing at all, 
 
 making pictures or signs for words, is rvellous enough; but 
 
 tu invent an alphabet in which a few Bigna could be made to
 
 10 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 represent all the thousands of words we use, seems absolutely 
 astonishing. They were conquered. Next we come to Asia Minor, 
 where there were beautiful cities, such as Ephesus ; full of art, and 
 with an old history. Conquered too. Soon we arrive at Greece, 
 with a still older and nobler history; all full of heroes, of wonders, 
 of poets, and of sa.^es. Though we must not linger over it now, 
 we may feel sure that, next to our religion, we have learnt more 
 from the great Greeks than from any other people. Conquered too. 
 Now we come to Italy itself, the lovely land. At the time we are 
 speaking of, it does not occur to our minds as being beautiful, 
 but as being strong; but afterwards it became the home of paint- 
 ing and of poetry. Then France, or Gaul, as it was called, and 
 Spain, which had not yet got their history, but had a famous future 
 before them. And now we travel round again, along the north 
 of Africa, " the parts of Libya about Cyrene," which the Romans 
 after hard fighting had mastered ; and we see that their do- 
 minion bordered the whole of the great inland or Mediterranean 
 Sea. 
 
 4. Now what sort of people were these who had gone forth in 
 this way, conquering and to conquer ? 
 
 AYe cannot doubt, in the first place, that they were great 
 soldiers. In those times fighting was considered a much better 
 and more desirable thing than it is now. In very ancient history 
 we find a state of perpetual war; a state in which a man could 
 only feel secure in the possession of his lands or his flocks as long 
 as he had strength in his own right arm to defend them. It was 
 not thought at all disgraceful, but very honourable, for a stronger 
 man to surprise and take them for himself. The people of one 
 family helped and befriended one another; and as families increased 
 in number they gradually grew into tribes, which hung together 
 and supported each other; and the successful tribes, again, by 
 degrees grew into nations; and it was the natural state of things 
 for them to be at war with all other families, or tribes, or 
 nations. 
 
 5. The Eomans had begun in a very small way, by building a 
 rough little village, which in the course of years grew into the 
 stately city of Rome; while they themselves grew into the great 
 conquerors and masters we have seen. It is supposed to have 
 been about 750 years from the foundation of the city to the birth 
 of Christ, which occurred soon after the time when Britain first 
 took her place in written history. Some of the wiser of them 
 had now begun to think it time to stop in the career of conquest, 
 though they did add some other provinces afterwards.
 
 ii.] THE ROMANS. 11 
 
 6. Of course they wanted huge armies to win and defend all 
 this; and their army was looked on as more important 
 
 than anything else. The officers, as with us, were l 
 
 gentlemen; the common soldiers were of the lower orders, and 
 recruited in all, even the most distant, provinces; hut they liked 
 hetter to take them from the north than from the south, because 
 they were braver and stronger. It was considered a great hon- 
 our to be a soldier; much more honourable than to be a mechanic 
 or a peasant. Every soldier took a most solemn oath, which 
 was called a "sacrament;" so solemn was it that Christians 
 ■ taken that name for the sacred ceremonies in which they 
 pledge themselves to follow Christ. The soldier swore never to 
 desert his standard, to submit his own will to the command of 
 his leader, and to sacrifice his life for the empire. The standard 
 was a golden eagle, which was worshipped as a god ; and it was 
 thought impious as well as disgraceful to desert the eagles. The 
 soldiers were well paid, but very strictly disciplined. They 
 were, it' nol at war. constantly exercised, and in exercising their 
 arms were twice as heavy as the real ones. They were taught 
 to march, run, leap, and swim; and thus became very hardy 
 and active. Their generals would not only look on, but take 
 part in the exercise I bemselves. 
 
 7. The whole army was divided into legions, each of which 
 was like a little army, complete in itself, and comprising all sorts 
 of soldiers. There were heavy armed foot-soldiers, with their 
 helmets, breastplates, greaves, Bhields, spears, and two-edged 
 swords. Each legion had also a band of cavalry, with lighter 
 arms. There were men from the conquered provinces, who had 
 not been trained and drilled like the regular soldiers, but who 
 
 iii in their own fashion, under Roman officers, and who 
 were called auxiliaries. The legion, also, had its own artillery ; 
 of course not cannon, but battering-rams, and machines For 
 discharging greal -tones, which were used in sieges before 
 gunpowder was invented. There were perhaps 12,500 men to 
 make up a legion, ami in the palmy days of Rome she possessed 
 thirty of these mightj force . They were encamped along the 
 haul' "I great rivers, as the Rhine, the Danube, and the 
 Euphrati . and ..,, the other horde:, of the empire, I,, keep off 
 the barbarians who were swarming outside. 
 
 8. 'I hey wi ie not very great on the. eea, and their navy was by 
 
 no mean equal to their army. The .Mediterranean 
 
 was the. only S e U they wished to command, and they ° avy ' 
 seldom thought of Venturing outside the narrow straits which led
 
 12 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 to the great ocean beyond. They believed that their divine hero, 
 Hercules, had been through those straits in performing some of his 
 great deeds, and had set up a pillar on each side in remembrance 
 of the feat ; and though they were really frightened by the sea, 
 they tried to lay their fears on the ground of religion. For 
 one man, Drusus, did try to make some way beyond the 
 "pillars," and to find out something more about Hercules; 
 " but," says one of their wisest historians, Tacitus, " the rough- 
 ness of the ocean withstood him, nor would suffer discoveries to 
 be made about itself no more than about Hercules. Thence- 
 forward the enterprise was dropped. Nay, more pious and 
 reverential it seemed to believe the marvellous feats of the 
 gods than to know and to prove them." 
 
 9. We do not know how much Tacitus himself believed of those 
 
 marvellous feats ; for when we try to learn about 
 Religion, their religion, we seem to find that at the time he 
 wrote there were two religions prevailing : one for the common 
 and ignorant people and the women, and another for the well- 
 educated. The first one was, by this time, real and gross idol- 
 atry. JS r ot that it had been so from the beginning ; for it seems, 
 in the earliest times, to have arisen by giving names to natural 
 things, as the sun, the sky, the dawn, and the wind ; and by 
 degrees forgetting what those names meant, fancying that they 
 were the names of real people, and at last worshipping them as 
 -mis and goddesses. The principal god was Jupiter. That name 
 really meant "the Sky-Father," or Father in Heaven; but this 
 first beautiful meaning was now almost lost, and many of the talcs 
 told of Jupiter were very degrading; as they were also of the 
 crowds of other gods and goddesses, which had once been only 
 thought of as clouds, or dew, or breezes, but of whom they now 
 had images in their temples, fashioned like men and women. 
 
 10. The wiser and more thoughtful of the people longed for 
 something better and truer than this. They could not believe, 
 and would not believe, tales in which the gods are much worse 
 than good men, or, indeed, than most bad men. They had con 
 quered the Jews some time before this, and it is very interesting 
 to read what Tacitus says about them. He speaks of them, on 
 the whole, with great contempt and disdain, but he is much 
 struck (for he mentions it several times) with their spiritual 
 religion. "The -lews know but one Deity, to be conceived and 
 aduied by the mind only. For profane and unhallowed they 
 hold all such as, out of materials mortal and perishing, use to 
 fashion their gods after the likeness of men ; they hold that the
 
 II.] THE ROMANS. 13 
 
 Divine Being, eternal and supreme, is incapable of all change, 
 incapable of ever ending." The same man tells us that the 
 first Roman who subdued the Jews, "exercising the rights of 
 a conqueror, entered their temple. Thenceforward it was 
 rumoured about that within it he had found no images of the 
 gods, but the residence of the Deity, void of any." 
 
 11. Some of the wiser then among the Romans longed for a 
 religion more like this, and one which they could believe; 
 for they could not be content with a mere dreary unbelief. 
 They, wanted something spiritual, and they wanted a pure 
 morality. Some of them felt and wrote as nobly as Christians 
 could. One of them, Epictetus, who lived not long after the 
 time I am describing, and who had a very unhappy outward 
 life, wrote these beautiful words : — " I will say unto God, 
 Did I ever find fault, or accuse Thy government of affairs? 
 I was sick, because Thou wouldest; others also have been 
 rick; but I willingly. I was poor, because Thou wouldest; 
 and therefore joyful in my poverty. I never was in authority, 
 because Thou wouldest not; and Thou knowest that, there- 
 fore, 1 never desired authority. Did I ever appear before 
 Thee with a sad and dejected countenance, as one who had 
 goffered a repulse, or been disappointed of his hopes'? Behold, 
 1 am ready to obey whatever Thou shalt enjoin. If it be to 
 quil the stage, I go. But, before 1 leave the world, 1 render to 
 Thee my tnosl humble thanks that Thou hast been pleased to 
 admit me into this theatre, to be an admirer and spectator of 
 Thy works." 
 
 I J. Many Others, however, were mere infidels. But even the 
 philosoph ps generally conformed outwardly to the religion of the 
 people. They were very toleranl of other religions, 
 and never interfered with thai of the people they Toleratl0n - 
 
 conquered, unless it- prevented them Ero beying the laws and 
 
 living orderly lives. In fact, they were quite ready to adopt and 
 believe in t of other cations as well as their own. No 
 
 doubt tbi , and their di sati faction with the old religion, prepared 
 the way for their accepting Christianity. We know there were 
 a great many Christians in Rome even in St. Paul's tune, and 
 that thai religion, in Bpite of persecutions, finally took entire 
 ion oi the Roman world. 
 
 13, The Romans were the wisest and besl makers of laws the 
 
 world had ever seen. Indeed, all] lern Europe has 
 
 ut more oi li - from them, and many nations are LftWS - 
 still governed almosi entirely by the Roman law ; though England,
 
 14 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 I believe, less than any. They ruled the people they conquered 
 by the same laws. We can see in the New Testament how in 
 general the Roman governors were on the side of justice against 
 the tyrannous bigotry of the Jews. Pontius Pilate would have 
 liked to save Christ; he knew that He had done nothing worthy 
 of death, and it was only because he was such a coward that he 
 gave way. And the various Roman governors and officers of whom 
 we read in the Acts were, on the whole, far more just and fair than 
 anybody else. " It is not the manner of the Romans," said Festus, 
 " to deliver any man to die before that he which is accused have 
 the accusers face to face, and have license to answer for himself 
 concerning the crimes laid against him." And we remember how 
 when the Jews at Jerusalem saw the chief captain and the Roman 
 soldiers " they left beating of Paul." 
 
 1 4: . To be a Roman citizen was a great honour and privilege. In 
 our days, to be a citizen, to have the freedom of the city of Lon- 
 don, is considered a great distinction, and is given in special cases 
 to those who have done some great tiling. The Romans were very 
 liberal in granting this favour. First, they gave it to all the free- 
 men of Rome ; then to all the dwellers in the province of Latium, 
 in which Rome stood; then to all Italy. Afterwards it was 
 given to many people and cities in conquered provinces. St. 
 Paul, "a Hebrew of the Hebrews," was a Roman too. (Acts xvi. 
 
 37.) 
 
 15. The Romans were in one thing very like the English. They 
 had great skill and aptitude' for colonizing. Some 
 Colonies. p e0 pl e h avo the power of taking root in other lands 
 and making a home there, taking their language, customs, and 
 religion with them. In modern days no people can do this like 
 the English. In old days the Greeks did it, and after them 
 the Romans. It was for the interests of the colonists to live in 
 friendship with the natives; they were farmers and merchants, 
 and so gained a great influence for their nation, besides what was 
 acquired by fighting and conquering. In after times they had 
 nine colonies in Britain, some of which are large cities now, as 
 London, Path. Chester, and Lincoln, &c. By degrees the con- 
 quered and civilized people of the provinces were promoted to 
 honour and trust ; they were not only allowed to be citizens, but 
 to command legions, and to have seats in the senate (or House of 
 Parliament of Rome). Afterwards some of them even rose to be 
 emperors; but at this period there were no emperors; the 
 government had been republican for hundreds of years. The 
 conquered provinces also learnt to speak Latin, like their con-
 
 ii.] THE ROMANS. 15 
 
 querors. In some of these countries the language is still a 
 modified Latin, as in Italy, France, Spain, Portugal, and some 
 others. All these languages are called Romance, because they all 
 came from the Komans. 
 
 16. Their language is a grand and beautiful one, and they have 
 left us many noble books of history, poetry, geography, and phi- 
 losophy. So we see that the well-educated among them cared for 
 much the same sort of things that we do. They were fond of 
 fine buildings, too, stately churches or temples, 
 
 arches, theatres, &c. Their houses were very hand- habits 11 
 some, and ornamented with pictures and statues. 
 Borne of them, though nut the finest, were buried under the 
 ashes of Vesuvius, and kept in beautiful preservation for 1800 
 
 -, with the paintings still on the walls. There is a very g I 
 
 copy or model of one of them in the Crystal Palace. 
 
 17. They were even fonder of clean water than we are, and 
 t immense sums of money in bringing it to their towns and 
 
 making delightful baths. They were like us, again, in another 
 way — they were great travellers. We make railroads; they 
 mad' Some of those they made are .--till existing; for, 
 
 in general, whatever work they did was thorough and good; 
 we have Borne "i them evi o in our own country. 
 
 18. Tli'- ladies (like all other ladies in the world, I suppose) 
 wen- fond of fine clothes and ornaments, and the Senal : Parlia- 
 ment tried to pul some stop to their extravagance. They wore 
 Bilk dresses when they could get them; but a pound's weight ol 
 
 .-ilk in those day-, was worth a pound's weight of gold. It was 
 
 idered an ornament to a lady to wear .silk, but a disgrace to 
 a man. Pearls and diamonds they also Bought after ; Indeed, it 
 
 partly to look after pearls that tla-y came to Britain, though, 
 it seems, they did uot find any worth having. They got them 
 from < ' ; ■ i *« - ' lomorin, as we do. 
 
 19. 'lie- Romans, from bring such great travellers and colo- 
 nists, became acquainted with many fruits and herbs which did 
 
 ■v naturally in Italy and other parts of Europe, and 
 
 tie- i- they broughl home and planted in their gardens and 
 orchards. It was they who first planted in Europe aprii 
 
 in- -. and orangi They aJ o planted vines in many places 
 
 where they had m .> c 1" • □ beard of before, but where they still 
 
 flourish and produce some of oui beet wine, as in Burgundy. 
 
 They studied too how to feed cattle better, and brouj ht different 
 
 and oth< from Eor< ign | ich a luzern, 
 
 which we USB now.
 
 1G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 20. Now so far I have described a brave, honourable, and on 
 the whole a just nation (allowing for the universal feeling about 
 war at that time), and which really did great good in the world; 
 but there were some things about them which were very terrible, 
 and wrought great harm and misery. 
 
 21. The first is, that they had immense numbers of slaves. 
 These clever, rich, and elegant gentlemen and ladies were waited 
 
 on by innumerable slaves. We must remember that 
 in the old and warlike times, with which most his- 
 tories begin, if the conquerors did not kill the conquered they 
 always made slaves of them; that was sometimes from mercy 
 and pity, and sometimes for convenience. So that in all old 
 histories, in our own too, Ave shall lind there was a large class 
 of slaves. We think very little of them ; but we ought, in 
 comparing old times with ours (which Ave often do, to the dis- 
 paragement of our own), to remember this poor dumb class, 
 Avho toiled and suffered to give leisure and ease to their masters, 
 of Avhose grand deeds and thoughts we love to read. 
 
 22. A slave could be bought for about three shillings, when 
 an ox cost tenpence; and what with buying and conquering, 
 and the slaves themselves multiplying, the Romans had at this 
 time a \ T ast number of them ; one single family possessed 400. 
 Among these, strange as it may sound to us, there Avere some 
 very well-educated and superior people. Some Avere doctors, 
 some Avere tutors to the children, some were artists. Probably 
 this class of slaves Avere generally treated with great kind- 
 ness and respect, but the loAver ones were often used very cruelly. 
 When fchey got old and useless the masters used constantly 
 to put them on an island in the river, and leave them to 
 perish. The ladies Avould sometimes tear their faces, or pierce 
 their flesh with the long pins of their brooches. One slave was 
 crucified for killing and eating a favourite tame bird. If a 
 master Avas murdered there was a law that all the slaves in the 
 house, unless in chains or quite helpless through illness, should 
 be put to death. Still Ave must hope that these great cruelties 
 Avere the exception, and not the rule. We all remember the 
 "centurion's servant (or slave) Avho Avas dear to him;" but 
 Avhere such things were even possible, Ave are sure that they 
 must have been a very oppressed and down-trodden race. 
 
 The philosophers took the part of the slaves; and still more 
 so, in after times, did Christianity, which taught that " there is 
 neither bond nor free," and that all men have a Master iu 
 heaven.
 
 ii.l THE ROMANS. 17 
 
 23. As for the amusements of the Romans, it is almost 
 incredible how horrible they were. One of their great delights 
 
 to see wild beasts tear each other to pieces. 
 
 • would have bears and bulls ; but also ele- musemen s - 
 phants, tigers, giraffes, even crocodiles and serpents. Three or 
 four hundred bears might be killed in a single day; or they 
 would have 400 tigers righting with bulls and elephants. On 
 
 .cry great occasion no less than 5000 animals perished. 
 It is easy to imagine how brutalizing all these ferocious sights 
 must have been, but there were others still worse than these. 
 
 •times they would have men, slaves brought from foreign 
 
 i fight with the wild beasts. They would dress criminals 
 
 in the .-kins of animals, and throw them to bulls, which wen; 
 
 Lened by red-hot irons. Even women would sometimes 
 
 . and one is said to have killed a lion. Some of the great 
 
 tres where these dreadful "games" took place are still 
 existing. Then- may be seen the places where the grand people 
 
 . enjoying the sight; and the seats rising up behind them 
 
 where the common p i pie sate, enjoying it too ; and down below 
 
 lens where the poor beasts, and the cells where the pi i 
 
 slaves vrere kept. 'J he ]. i these theatres is called the 
 
 1 il Rome, and would hold more than 80,000 people 
 
 24. -\t Other times, UJ8tead of wild beasts, they Would have, 
 
 men fighting with one another. These men were called "Gladi- 
 oi " 6 pordsmen." There were many thousands of them, 
 who were trained very carefully to kill one another for the 
 of the lookers-on. Lord Byron wrote these tender and 
 indignant lines aboul a dying gladiator, which lill our hearts 
 with a pity the Romans never f( Lt. 
 
 " I see before me the Gladiator lie ; 
 
 lie lean- upon In- hand- lii- manly l>row 
 [< :itli, but conqui n agon} . 
 
 And bis droop' d head -ink- gradually low — 
 
 And through hi- gide the i;i-t drops, ebbing 
 
 1" > '>iii -i h, fall hi ai \ one bj om 
 
 Li • • -I a thunder-shower ; and i ow 
 
 'I lie arena sw imi around him be u goni ; 
 Ere ceased the inhuman ihoul which bail'd the wr< toh who wen 
 
 ■• II- hi ir 1 if, l<tit he hi ■ di d i eyi a 
 
 Wi re with hi- heart, and thai was far away : 
 lie reck'd nol ol the life hi lost, noi prize, 
 i ude lint Ipv the I lanube lay, 
 i wen- in- young barn 
 Then was theii Dacian mother — he, thi r Mrc, 
 Bub hi r*d to m ike a Roman holiday ! "
 
 18 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTOM. [lect. 
 
 25. If it makes us shudder to hear of these dreadful and 
 piteous scenes, what can have been the effect on those who 
 looked at them ; those who sate safe on their raised seals, 
 shouting with delight, while their victims were struggling and 
 sinking for their amusement? How it must have hardened 
 their hearts and killed their sympathy ! And how wise is 
 Solomon's counsel : " Say not thou, What is the cause that the 
 former days were better than these 1 for thou dost not enquire 
 wisely concerning this."
 
 TIM 
 
 THE BRITONS. 18 
 
 LECTURE III.— THE BRITOXS. 
 
 The ancient Britons— their language, religion, education, commerce, and 
 arts— their lelations on the Continent — their connection with the great 
 Aryan family— then- descendants in the present day. 
 
 1. It was about fifty-five years before the birth of Christ that 
 Julius Caesar, one of the greatest of the Roman generals, was 
 in France, or Gaul, as it was then called, with an 
 army. He was one of the most famous of the j u ° lius - 
 Romans j not only a victorious soldier, but also in c*sar. 
 other ways a wonderful man. Si une time afterwards 
 he was killed in Rome, as we may read in Shakespeare's play ; 
 but we have nothing to do with that now. What most concerns 
 - that he himself wrote Long and very interesting histories of 
 his own wars, of which we will read some extracts. You will 
 observe he always speaks of himself in the third person; so be 
 does generally in Shakespeare's play. 
 
 2. The people of Gaul, though conquered, were not very sub- 
 ive, and often gave the Romans trouble. When they were 
 rebelling they used to get help from some neighbours, 
 
 whowereeven fiercer and more turbulent than them- ,L<«.f£, 
 
 ... , ijiiiaiii. 
 
 selves, lli'- 1 ' neighbours came trom over tnesea; 
 l,ui in -..me parts the strip of sea was so narrow that the Romans 
 could look aero a from Gaul to the land opposite, from wh< 
 they came, as we can now look from < !; to Dover. Now 
 I being greal fighters, great travellers, very fond of 
 
 raphy, and very fond of exploring, must have found it a 
 t, temptation to see thai Land dimly in the distance. Was 
 , i [and f wa 3 it pari of the < Jontinenl ! who lived thi 
 what grew there I At ai these 1 rouble ome bai bai 
 
 musl be pul down. 
 
 :;. Before this I hue there bad b ien sometime i merchants 
 
 coming and going. There was one thing to be got in Britain 
 
 which was very rare everywhere el e, and, indeed, i • till — 
 
 Nearly all the tin in Europe until quite Lately come from 
 
 nwallandth of Scilly, though a great deal is now broi 
 
 from Banca, in In In. It is all i that the " bronze " 
 
 c 2
 
 20 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 people, who lived not only in England, but also were scattered 
 over greal part of Europe, got the tin to mix with their copper 
 from Cornwall. Most probably, also, the Phoenicians, who were 
 the great trailers of old, knew something of the. southern pails 
 of Britain, for though the Romans were afraid of passing the 
 "pillars of Hercules," the Phoenicians had founded a colony at 
 Cadiz, on the shores of the Atlantic Ocean; and, as they were 
 ! sailors, those colonists might easily have found their way 
 to Cornwall 
 
 4. But by this time the trade in tin, and perhaps in skins 
 also, was carried on between the ports of Gaul and Britain. 
 What sort of people were living here at this, which we may call 
 the beginning of the historical period, though not yet of the 
 history of England % 
 
 5. The last people we heard of were those who made bronze 
 implements. The inhabitants of Britain had now learnt to use 
 
 . iron. That is far more difficult to work than copper 
 
 and tin; so they must have improved greatly in 
 
 skill, or they must have been another race of people. We will 
 
 leave that question for the present, and find out what we can of 
 
 the people, the Britons themselves. 
 
 6. We learn this not from any writings of their own. but 
 from what the Romans tell us. They, it would seem, took as 
 much interest in the matter as we do in Fi-ji, or any of the 
 remote islands and countries we have annexed. Just as Captain 
 Cook wrote accounts of the Sandwich Islands, so did the Romans 
 
 aboul Britannia. And, as we have several of their 1 ks, or 
 
 puts of them, remaining, we, at least, knew what they can 
 
 tell US. 
 
 7. We soon find out that the people were very brave, fierce, 
 and quarrelsome ; though Julius Caesar says that those who lived 
 
 in Kent were the most civilized. As they were the 
 we in&s ' uearesl to France, they had perhaps Learnt politeness 
 from the French. He tells us that the island was well peopled, 
 and full of houses, built after the maimer of the Gauls. We 
 learn from another Roman, Strabo, what sort of Iiousps the 
 Gauls had. They were constructed of poles and wattled or 
 burdle-WOrkj round, and with lofty, tapering, and pointed roofs. 
 They do not seem to have had any windows or chimneys, and 
 must have looked rather like huge bee-hives. A very delightful 
 old English writer, Fuller, who tells the history of Christianity 
 in our island, describes the dilleivnce between a common house 
 and a palace. The "palace," though also built of hurdle-work,
 
 in.] THE BRITONS. 21 
 
 was white, "because the rods whereof it was made were un- 
 limited, having the rind stripped off, which was then counted 
 gay and glorious." 
 
 8. Caesar talks about villages and towns, but he says their 
 
 ? were not much like ours. "What they call a town is a 
 
 tract of woody country, surrounded by a wall or high bank, and 
 
 a ditch, for the security of themselves and their cattle against 
 
 the incursions of enemies." 
 
 '.i. The more civilized people, in the south, understood some- 
 thing aboul agriculture, manuring the land, and storing up corn 
 in underground granaries. None of the Britons would 
 cat hares, fowls, or geese; but there were plenty of 
 cattle all over the country, though at this time there were neither 
 donkeys, cats, nor rats. The inland and more ignorant people 
 never sowed their land or grew any corn, but lived by their 
 flocks and herds, and by hunting. They wore coats of skins, 
 and bad their own skins painted blue with the juice of a plant. 
 Thi . I . "makes them look dreadful in battle." 
 
 1<>. However, they were not mere savages, as they could work 
 in iron, could make wheeled carriages, and were, in particular, 
 very clever al basket-work. They could even make 
 
 - of Wicker, covered with the skins of animals, 0at3 ' 
 
 and very good wooden boats also. A great many ancient boats 
 and canoes have been dug up in different places, especially at 
 Glasgow. Some of them were formed of a single oak stem, 
 hollowed out by blunt tools, probably stone axes, aided by the 
 action of tire. Some were cu1 beautifully Bmooth, and must 
 have been made with tools of Borne metal. The first of tl 
 iii"-t likely, belonged to the stone period, and the next to the 
 bronze. Then there was one regularly built of planks, with ribs, 
 and with prow and stern like ours. This was probably of the 
 iron or Briti h a ;e : it had been parti' ,e,| with metal 
 
 nails, but, as these had quite di appeared, we <lo not know if 
 they were bronze or iron. It must hive been very into 
 to tli ratora to be improvement the boat buildoi 
 
 made as time wenl on. 
 
 11. I!" idi the done tic animal-, there were a great many 
 wild one,, which have now quite passed away from our i [an 
 
 be brown be ir, the wolf, the wild boar, and the 
 beaver (the town of Beverley is na I from ,i„. statoof the 
 
 P011 11 f 1" V 
 
 ■•is which used to live there). All these -till 
 live wild in other pints of the world, and it is U«a than 200 
 years since the lasl wolf was killed m Scotland.
 
 22 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [lect. 
 
 12. Imagine this country as it was then, compared with 
 what it is now. Even in the most quiet and remote puts 
 now there are peaceful fields with corn or grass, and bordered 
 with hedges; there are firm roads, safe foot-paths with gates or 
 stiles ; churches, schools, pleasant houses and cottages, with their 
 gardens and orchards. Many of the cottages are not even yet 
 what they ought to he, hut they are "palaces" indeed to those 
 damp and dark wattled huts standing in the midst of wild forests 
 and marshes, undrained, and full of fierce, wild creatures. 
 
 13. What had they to take the place of our churches and 
 schools] The same Eoman general, Julius Caesar, tells us about 
 
 . their religion. He had been a great deal in Gaul, 
 
 and says that the people there had the same religion 
 
 as the Britons; but Britannia was looked on as a sort of holy 
 
 place, and those who wished to learn the religion most perfectly 
 
 travelled there for instruction. 
 
 14. This religion was sometimes called Druidism, and the 
 priests were Druids, who, besides attending to sacred affairs, were 
 judges of the people, and had charge of the education of the 
 children. Csesar says they worshipped Jupiter, Apollo, and the 
 other gods of the Romans, but they certainly did not bear those 
 names. He does not say much about images, but they must 
 have had a great many, for one of themselves, Gildas, writing 
 some hundreds of years later, after they had long been Christians, 
 says that "they almost surpassed in number those of Egypt," 
 and might in his day (a.d. 546) "be still seen mouldering 
 within or without the deserted temples, with stiff and deformed 
 features, as was customary." Julius Cassar goes on to say that 
 they thought a great deal of human sacrifices, and though they 
 chose as victims, by preference, robber3 and other criminals, yet, 
 if there were none of these to be had, the innocent were often 
 made to suffer. He says, "Some prepare huge images of osier- 
 twigs, into which they put men alive, and, setting fire to them, 
 those within expire amidst the flames." It is now believed 
 that these "images" were more like great pictures or outlines 
 drawn on the ground, with osier fences around them, where the 
 victims were burnt. 
 
 15. They had a great reverence for some natural objects, 
 ecially running streams, trees, and serpents. The tree they 
 
 most honoured was the oak, and, still mure than the oak, the 
 mistletoe which grew on it. Though mistletoe often grows upon 
 apple trees, it is very uncommon upon oaks, and whenever a 
 plant of it was found on an oak tree there was a grand ceremony.
 
 in.] TIIE BRITONS. 23 
 
 A solemn procession was formed, two white bulls were sacrificed, 
 and the sacred plant cut with a knife of gold. It was considered 
 to have wonderful and mysterious powers, and to cure diseases. 
 Perhaps it really had some medical effect, for it has been used, 
 even in modern times, as good for epilepsj r . 
 
 16. The Druids kept a part of their religion secret, as too 
 sacred for the common people. It was often the case with old 
 religions that there were certain mysteries belonging to them 
 which only a few were allowed to know. Some people think 
 that there were Druidesses as well as Druids ; but if there were, 
 they were not told the secret doctrines; it appears to have been 
 thought that women could not keep a secret. Thus the Druids 
 seem to have been a kind of magicians. In an old translation 
 of the Bible into a branch of their language (the Irish), the 
 
 as of Egypt are called the "Druids of Egypt," and the 
 wise men from the East are called Druids also. 
 
 17. Though their religion was in parts so cruel, and in parts 
 perstitious, they had some very good and great ideas. They 
 
 believed in the immortality of the soul, and considered that this 
 faith "contributes greatly to exalt men's courage by disarming 
 death of ita terrors." They studied astronomy and "the nature 
 of things," and taught their pupils a great deal of history and 
 
 L8. As to their medicines, besides the mistletoe they used 
 otler herbs ; but they mixed up with the real use of the plant 
 a great many magical idea-:. There were, most minute and 
 fantastic rules about the gathering of these plants. The person 
 who collected them was sometimes to bo dressed in white, or to 
 his feet bare; sometimes he must use his right hand, and 
 sometimes bis left. Sometimes he had to go by moonlight, or 
 when some particular Btar might be seen in the sky; at other 
 times he might go in the sunshine, Sometimes he would have 
 it before he might venture to touch them. Some of these 
 superstition have gone on I trough many centuries of < Ihristianity, 
 Even now we occasionally hear of "wise," men and women in 
 the country working marvellous i nd who practise some- 
 
 thing very like them. 
 
 19. .And now comes the question, Who were these people 1 
 and when' did they come from 1 
 
 To an iwer that, we have, to go back a Ion ■. long way ; to the 
 beginnings and roots of hi tory. It has been already per- 
 by history I do not m< in mere itoriea . , 
 of lighting, or the name* ami dates of kings and n B- n -
 
 24 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 queens, but the history which tells of the life of man ; the 
 progress he has made in religion, in thought, in literature, or the 
 writing of wise and good books; in art, or in beautiful building, 
 painting, sculpture, and music ; and in wise and just government, 
 
 in law and freedom. Most of these we can learn 
 The Aryan ^ es ^ f rom t,h e history of certain nations in Europe, 
 
 some of which were mentioned in the last lecture — 
 Greece, Italy, France, Germany, and England. All of these 
 have had a great deal to do with each other; all have done 
 much in helping on the great progress of humanity ; some in 
 this way, and some in that. These nations belong to one great 
 family, which is called the Aryan family, and they are all blood- 
 relations to one another. 
 
 20. It may, perhaps, be asked how we know this. It is their 
 languages which teach it. If people living very far away from 
 
 one another talk the same language, we feel almost 
 anguage. gure ^^ ^here mus t h aV e been a time when they, or 
 their fathers, all belonged to each other. For example, on the 
 other side of the Atlantic Ocean there is a great nation which 
 talks English. If we did not know history at all, we could not 
 help concluding, from that alone, either that we came from the 
 Americans, or the Americans from us; or else, that we both 
 descended from one stock. In this instance we know all about 
 it from books of history, which tell us that the forefathers of 
 the Americans were Englishmen who settled in America a few 
 hundred years ago, and whose descendants have, of course, talked 
 and written English ever since. As this was only what, in history, 
 we call a short time ago, the American English is almost exactly 
 like ours, though a few little diilerences have already sprung up ; 
 fur they use some words and expressions which we do nut, and 
 do not always pronounce their words quite as we do ; but if we 
 hail been entirely separated from them many more centuries than 
 we have, and the separation had taken place before there were 
 written or printed hooks, the diilerences would have been very 
 much greater. Perhaps avc might not have even been able to 
 understand each other if we attempted to talk together, but we 
 should still have had a great number of words alike. Suppose 
 thej had such words as father, mother, daughter, brother, sister, 
 king, to have, to be, to build, to plough, the numbers one, two, 
 three, cV'c. , like ours, should we not feel that this could not have 
 lened by chance, but that some long time ago our fathers 
 all have lived together, and used these words together/ 
 
 21. Now it is a most curious and wonderful fact that such
 
 m.] 
 
 THE BRITONS. 
 
 _,) 
 
 words as these, and many others, do really belong in common to 
 all those nations before mentioned, and even to other nations 
 very far away from us now, the Persian and the Indian ; though 
 they are not all spelt or even pronounced exactly alike. Let us 
 look at a few of these common words in some of the principal 
 languages of Europe, and observe how much they resemble each 
 other. 
 
 English. 
 
 Latin. 
 
 Greek. 
 
 German. 
 
 Father 
 
 Pater 
 
 Pater 
 
 Fater 
 
 Motlmr 
 
 Mater 
 
 Meter 
 
 Mutter 
 
 Daughter 
 
 
 Thugater 
 
 Tochter 
 
 Night 
 
 Noct- 
 
 Xukt- 
 
 Nacht 
 
 One 
 
 Un(us) 
 
 En 
 
 Ein 
 
 Three 
 
 Ires 
 
 rp . 
 
 JLreis 
 
 Drei 
 
 ht 
 
 Oct(o) 
 
 Okt(6) 
 
 Acht 
 
 8ome of our common words are very oddly spelt, and not at all 
 according to the sound when they are spoken, as daughter, eight, 
 and night. But in German and Greek the letters which seem 
 useless in English are really sounded ; and in the oldest of all 
 the Aryan languages, an Indian one called Sanskrit, these words 
 have nearly the same letters in them. The Sanskrit word for 
 daughter, which is thousands of years old, is " duhitar," and the 
 Sanskrit word for eight is "aght." 
 
 22. These are only a few specimens, but there are really many 
 ; in fact, there is quite reason enough to convince learned 
 men that all these nations, many of them living so far apart, 
 and seeming so very different from each other, must have grown 
 from on or family, which i called the Aryan family. The 
 
 word "Aryan," as far as can be mad': out, means "one who 
 ploughs or tills." 
 
 l'."». Therewasa time then, long, long ago, when the forefathers 
 
 of these nation-, the Indian and Pel ians, Greeks, Italians, 
 
 Germans, Slavs, French, and Engli b, and others, were all one 
 people, Bpeaking one language, and living together somewhere in 
 < lentral Ada. Bui after a time there w a a great 
 separation. One after another they parted off -some ,■ The . 
 
 , , ■ ' dispei sion. 
 
 some we t. Borne went bo India ; ome came 
 
 to Europe. And they did not generally come inl linhahited 
 
 land-, hut into countries where there were people already lr. ing. 
 '1 1 1 ■-" they either destroyed or drove into the Earth il cornel i hey 
 could. Those who went to India pushed the old inhabitants
 
 2G LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [lect. 
 
 down southwards. Tliose who came into Europe, and from whom 
 we descend, pushed the old inhabitants westwards. 
 
 23. It appears that the first of the Aryans who came into 
 Europe were a tribe or race called Celts; they certainly 
 
 came farther west than any of the others. They 
 settled themselves in parts of Italy, parts of Spain, 
 in France, in England, Ireland, and Scotland. These were the 
 people whom the Romans found in Britannia, and who are called 
 the Britons ; and we know that they were an Aryan race by 
 their language. There are plenty of people living still who 
 speak the same language (though the English do not), viz., the 
 Welsh, the Irish, the Highland Scotch, and some others. 
 
 24. These Celts found in Spain, France, and Britain other 
 people already settled, who Avere most likely the bronze or the 
 neolithic people. No doubt they killed most of them, but some 
 are believed to be living in Europe still, in the Basque provinces, 
 in a northern province of Spain; and their language, which 
 is not an Aryan language at all, is most likely the same old 
 language which the makers of the bronze implements spoke. 
 
 25. It must now be explained why it is supposed that some 
 of us English are partly descended from these old races. It is 
 because there are two types or kinds of people in England, as 
 well as in other parts of Europe, who are very different indeed 
 from one another in appearance. One tall, large, fair-com- 
 
 plexioned, with light or red hair, and blue or grey 
 races e ^ es > ^ ie other short, dark-complexioned, with dark 
 
 hair, and dark eyes. They are so unlike each other, 
 that if we were not quite accustomed to them we should almost 
 be obliged to think they belonged to different nations. Of course 
 now we have all sorts of connecting links : some dark people are 
 tall ; some fair people are short; but if we went along the eastern 
 coast of England, and noticed the people born and bred there, 
 we should find nearly all of them tall, fair, and blue-eyed ; while 
 in South Wales we should find nearly all short, wiry, and dark. 
 The Piomans found just the same when they came to England. 
 Tacitus says some had large limbs and red hair; some had tawny 
 complexions and dark, frizzly hair. Those who have studied the 
 subject say that the Aryan people — the Celts — were the tall, fair 
 ones ; and the bronze or neolithic people, whose land they took, 
 were the short, dark ones. The neolithic men, it will be 
 remembered, were only about five feet five inches high, as is 
 shown by their skeletons ; their sword-handles, too, are small. 
 And the Basque people are mostly dark and small.
 
 in.] THE BRITONS. 27 
 
 26. Evidently in Britain the Celts so thoroughly conquered 
 the old inhabitants, that though, they did not destroy them all, 
 they quite put an end to their old speech, and when the Romans 
 came they found no language spoken except different varieties 
 Hi < Jeltic. But we have not even yet arrived at the people whom 
 we must call our real, true forefathers. They were far away from 
 Britain all this time. 
 
 Note to Boats, p. 21: Caesar had observed these boats, and was not too 
 i I to copy them himself afterwards, in his wars in Spain.
 
 28 LECTl'KES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. r i.i:cr 
 
 LECTURE IV.— THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN. 
 
 Julius Caesar in Gaul. Invasion of Britain. Agricola. Progress of civDiza- 
 tion. Introduction of Christianity. 
 
 1 . Before the time when Julius Cassar came Ave have no written 
 history of Britain. But, a very long time after he went away, 
 people began to make up a history of the Britons. That, we 
 ieel sure, could not be a true one, because the writers had no 
 means of knowing what had happened, or the names and exploits 
 of kings who had lived and died (if thej r ever lived at all) hun- 
 dreds i if years before. There may, indeed, have been traditions ; 
 thai is, things told by word of mouth from one to another, from 
 father to son; but if we consider how stories get changed in 
 repeating, even in the course of a day or two, we shall see that 
 we cannot put any faith in those old tales. I mention them, 
 partly, because King Lear and his daughters are said to have 
 lived in tin.' times they describe; and their story is very interest- 
 ing, though almost certainly it is not true as history. 
 
 2. Bui we will now see what Julius Caesar himself tells us 
 
 about his first coming to Britain. "Though but a small part of 
 
 the summer now remained, for in those regions, < rani, 
 
 _, B £ stretching very much to the north, the winters begin 
 
 The Roman , J ,, , , \ , -°, 
 
 invasion. ear ly> b;e>ar nevertheless resolved to pass over into 
 
 Britain, having certain intelligence that in all his wars 
 
 with the Gauls the enemies of the common weall h had ever received 
 
 assistance from thence. He indeed foresawthat the season of the 
 
 would not permil him to finish the war; yet lie thought it 
 
 would be of no small advantage if he should but take a view of 
 
 the island, learn the nature of the inhabitants, and acquaint himself 
 
 with the Coasts, harbour-, and landing-places, to all which the Gauls 
 
 were perfect strangers ; for almosl none but merchants resort to 
 
 that island, nor have even they any knowledge of the count ry, 
 
 except the sea-coast, and the parts opposite to Gaul. Having, 
 
 therefore, called together the merchants from all parts, they could 
 
 neither inform him of the largeness of the island, nor what or 
 
 how powerful the nations were that inhabited it, nor of theL
 
 iv] THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN. 29 
 
 customs, arts of war, or tlie harbours fit to receive large ships. 
 For these reasons, before be embarked himself, lie thought proper 
 
 ad C. Volusenus with a galley to get some knowledge of these 
 things, commanding him as soon as he had informed himself in 
 what he wanted to know to return with all expedition." 
 
 3. When Volusenus returned, giving what information he 
 could (which was not much, for he had been afraid to leave his 
 Bhip, or trust himself in thehandsof the barbarians), Csesarmade 
 all preparations for the crossing. " He weighed anchor about one 
 in the morning, and about ten o'clock reached the coast of 
 Britain, where he saw all the cliffs" (the tall, white cliffs of 
 D Br) "covered with the enemy's forces. The nature of the 
 place was Buch that, the sea being hounded by steep mountains, 
 the enemy might easily launch their javelins on us from above. 
 Not thinking this, therefore, a convenient landing-place," he 
 Bailed about eight miles farther, " stopping over against a plain 
 and open shoiv. Uut the barbarians, perceiving our design, seni 
 their cavalry and chariots before, which they frequently make use 
 of in battle, and following with the rest of their forces, endea- 
 voured to oppose our landing; and indeed we found the difficulty 
 very great on many accounts, for our ships, being large, required 
 
 eat depth of water; and the soldiers, who were wholly 
 unacquainted with the places, and had their hands embarrassed, 
 and laden with a weight of armour, were at the same time to leap 
 from the ships, stand breast-high amidsl the waves, and encounter 
 
 He in y ; while i bey, fighl Lng on dry ground, or advancing onlj 
 a little way into the water, having the free use of all their Limbs, 
 and in places which they perfectly knew, could boldly cast their 
 and Bpur on their horses, well inured to that kind of service. 
 All these circumstances served to spread a terror among our 
 men." 
 
 I. The oldiere seeming to hang back, and " demurring to leap 
 into the sea, the si mdard-bearer ol the tenth legion, having Bj I 
 invoked the go 1- for success, cried out aloud, ' follow me, fellow - 
 soldiers, unless you will betray the Roman eagle into the hand of 
 the enemy ; for my part, I am re olved to di charj e my dul 
 • ir and the commonwealth.' On this he jumped into thi 
 and d wit li th ii lie enemy ; whereat, our 
 
 men exhorting one anol her to pn i, all 
 
 thai were in the ship followed him; which being perceived by 
 I in the neareul v< i did the like, and boldly 
 
 app i the enemy." 
 
 5. Thus the Romant firsi sel fool on British ad, from
 
 30 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 which they did not finally go away for nearly 500 years, 
 . though they had many a hard fight before they could 
 establish themselves there. "We must not linger over 
 all Cresar has to say about the war in Britain, but only notice 
 two interesting tilings. One is, that he had the greatest trouble 
 with his ships, for the storms of these northern seas broke so 
 many of them to pieces ; and the Roman sailors were greatly 
 puzzled by the tides, being most accustomed to the Mediterranean 
 Sea, where there are no very observable tides. Caesar says, 
 " That very night it happened to be full moon, when the tides 
 on the sea-coast always rise highest — a thing at that time wholly 
 unknown to the Romans." The other interesting matter is 
 about the war-chariots, which were quite new to the Roman 
 soldiers, and terrified them very much. " Their way of fight- 
 ing with their chariots is this : first they drive their chariots 
 on all sides, and throw their darts ; insomuch that by the very 
 terror of the horses and noise of the wheels they often break the 
 tanks of the enemy. When they have forced their way into the 
 midst of the cavalry they quit their chariots, and fight on foot ; 
 meantime the drivers retire a little from the combat, and place 
 themselves in such a manner as to favour the retreat of their 
 countrymen, should they be overpowered by the enemy. Thus 
 in action they perform the part both of nimble horsemen and 
 stable infantry ; and by continual exercise and use have arrived 
 at that expertness, that in the most steep and difficult places they 
 can stop their horses on a full stretch, turn them which way they 
 please, run along the pole, rest on the harness, and throw them- 
 selves back into their chariots with incredible dexterity." It is 
 often said that these chariots had sharp cutting scythes fixed on 
 to the wheels and other parts, but it does not seem quite certain 
 that this is true, as Csesar tells us nothing about them, which he 
 would most likely have done when he was describing them so 
 carefully. 
 
 6. With all his courage and skill, Julius Caesar could not 
 
 make much way ; lie got once as far as St. Alban's, but he never 
 
 really conquered Britain. It was about 100 years 
 
 British a j- t(;1 , ^ fl rg j. com j n „ that the i> omans seri t another 
 
 T6S1Sl3iI1C6 
 
 gr< it army, which really did subdue a good part of 
 the island. One of the most celebrated British chiefs was a man 
 named Caradoc, which the Romans lengthened out into Carac- 
 tacus. He led his men very gallantly against the Romans, hut 
 at last was taken prisoner, and sent with all his family to Rome. 
 In this calamity he behaved with such calmness and dignity
 
 iv.] THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN. 31 
 
 that the people of Rome were struck with admiration, and gave 
 him his liberty. 
 
 7. Another famous British leader was a woman, Queen 
 Buddug, improved by the Romans into Boadicea. She may 
 fairly be called a great heroine ; but she too was vanquished, and 
 they say poisoned herself for shame and sorrow. It shows how 
 completely the Britons afterwards submitted to the Romans, 
 both in body and mind, that one of them, Gildas, who wrote a 
 history of these times, calls Boadicea, his own country-woman, 
 lighting for her liberty, " a deceitful lioness," and her people 
 ' : crafty foxes." 
 
 8. The best of all the Roman governors who were sent to 
 Britain, and the one who finally established the Roman dominion, 
 was Agricola. We have his life, written by his own 
 
 s m-in-law, the great historian Tacitus, who has been A AD . 7 ^- 
 already mentioned. He had the deepest respect and S rxco a - 
 
 ition fur him. He tells us of his bravery, modesty, and 
 wisdom, of his skill in war and in the arts of government, and 
 a great deal of this praise seems really to have been deserved. 
 II completed the conquest of Southern Britain, and pushed a 
 long way into Scotland, as far as the Grampian hills. Eere 
 there was a terrible fight between the Uomans and the natives, 
 whose general was named Galgacus. Tacitus, who doubtless 
 heard all about this from Agricola himself, gives a spirited account 
 of the battle, and of tin- stirring speeches which the two leaders 
 made to theil armies. The light was a very obstinate ami tierce 
 One, but when night came the Romans were victorious, and the 
 Britons led. In their despair ihey set lire to their houses ; some 
 
 : '• muplereil their children and wives, as an act of compassion 
 
 and tenderness. The. next day produced a more ample display 
 of the victory \ on all sides a profound silence, solitary hills, 
 thick smoke rising from the houses on lire, and not a living soul 
 . 1 1 < 1 by t lie cot 
 '.i. Neverthele thi e northerners were never really subdued, 
 and at last Agricola n olved to leave them in po i i ion of their 
 wild mountainous count ry, building a wall to prevent 
 them from coming farther south. This wall tretched Tho Rf > mau 
 
 i the mouth - of thi Foi i h and < Hyde, 
 
 and was rather a line of forts than what we now call a wall. 
 But it v.. i found imp" jible to keep all that region in subjection, 
 even as far north as the wall ; an I u I > ■ •■ the Emperor 
 
 Hadi i gave up a good deal of it, and built another wall much 
 forth h, between the Solway and the Tyne. The place
 
 32 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [u. r. 
 
 where our best coals formerly came from was just in that 
 neighbourhood, and is still called " WaUsend." 
 
 10. Agricola appears to have been a really kind and wise ruler 
 over those who were once conquered. As he knew that •' little 
 is gained by arm-; where grievances and oppressions follow, he 
 determined to cut olF all the causes of war. . . . Beginning, 
 therefore, with himself, and those appertaining to him, he checked 
 and regulated his own household — a task which to many proves 
 not less difficult than that of governing a province. . . . All that 
 passed he would know, though all that was amiss he would not 
 punish. Upon small offences he bestowed pardon; for such as 
 were great he exercised proportionable severity." 
 
 1 1. Though it had long been believed that Britain was an island, 
 it was not till Agricola's time that it became finally known and 
 
 . established. Agricola sent ships from a place supposed 
 
 island *° nave Deen Sandwich Haven, and they sailed on and 
 on all round the north of Scotland, discovering the 
 Orkney Islands, till they returned to the same place from which 
 they had started. When in those northern regions they noticed 
 how long the days were, but do not seem to have been aware that 
 this was only in the summer-time, and that they paid for it by 
 very long nights in winter. " Their days in length surpass ours. 
 Their nights are very clear, and at the extremity of the country 
 very short, so that between the setting ami return of day you 
 perceive but small interval. They affirm, that were it not for 
 the intervention of clouds the rays of the sun would be seen in 
 night, ami that he doth not rise or fall, but only pass by; 
 for that the extremities of the earth, which are level, yieldiug 
 but a low shadow, prevenl darkness from rising high and spread- 
 ing." It is curious to observe how easy it seems to find a reason 
 for things Ave do not understand ; we know now that this learned- 
 sounding reason hail nothing whatever to do with it, inasmuch as 
 the earth is not Hat, like a plate with edges, as they thought it. 
 
 12. Having established peace, Agricola regulated the taxes 
 more justly, and would not allow extortion. He also tried to 
 
 tame and teach the wild Britons. The lower people 
 
 The Britons were employed in draining bogs and making firm 
 
 civilized an< ^ <-x< ' , '-"'-nt paved roads. Some of these, roads are 
 
 still existing in England, especially one winch was 
 
 called Watling Street, and which extended all across England, 
 
 from Dover, through London, to Chester. There is a very rough 
 
 old stone to be seen in Cannon Street (which is now built u\) into 
 
 a church wall to preserve it) which is called London Stone, and
 
 iv.] THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN. 33 
 
 is believed to be the old Roman milestone from which all the- 
 others were measured. 
 
 1 3. 1 le also encouraged and helped the Britons to build tem- 
 ples, halls, and comfortable houses, like those the Romans lived 
 in. These were very large and handsome, built round a court- 
 yard, like our colleges at Oxford and Cambridge, and with tine 
 pavements inlaid. Part of these pavements, and other things 
 which have been buried in the centuries which have passed since, 
 are often dug up now in London and other places. They made 
 -also large and beautiful baths, which seem to have been some- 
 thing like the Turkish baths we now have in London. One of 
 them is still to be seen at Chester, and one at Bath. 
 
 1 I. All this was a greal contrast to those wattled huts of the 
 
 >ns, and many of the people took to the Roman manners 
 
 very kindly. Agricola took care to have the sons of the chiefs 
 
 • Jit Latin, and the other things tin- Romans learnt; lie says 
 
 were cleverer than the Gauls; and in time they grew proud 
 
 peaking like, the- Romans, and dressing like them, instead of 
 
 in >kins and WOad. With all this they unfortunately learned also 
 
 sal deal of vice- ami Luxury, and as Agricola expected, became 
 far I--- brave and warlike ; we -hall hear, in the end, how help- 
 
 they were when Lefl to themselves. Tin' sort of civilization 
 which is forced on people from outside is aever so lasting or so 
 beneficial as what thej grow up to themselves. 
 
 15. Far better than all the arts and luxuries the I a iton8 learnt 
 
 from the Romans was the religion. Many Romans, by this time, 
 bad given up their old religion and had bi come ( Ihris- 
 
 . having I n taughl by si. Paul certainly, and fgJJJJSSS 
 
 perhaps by St. Peter also. Et was never known i ity# 
 
 iv Christianity was first taught to the Britons; 
 [\ ■ certainly not by Agricola, or any of the greal men, 
 they had not yel hunt it themselves, nor taken any notice 
 no doubt, many of the Roman Boldiers and colonists 
 who had been converted broughl it with them. It is generally 
 thai a Briti h lady i mentioned in the Bible I llaudia, 
 ,,, 2 Tim. iv. 21. It is even ed that Bhe may have been 
 
 one of the family of I !aradoc, who had been taken pri ion< i 
 
 Rome. It i- known thai a R an gentleman, Pudens, had 
 
 ; ied a British woman named Claudia, and both are men- 
 tioned by Martial, a Roman | t. 
 
 16. The firs! Chri tian church in our country was built 
 tonbury (the tale was thai Joseph of Arimathaea buill it, 
 
 directed by the angel Gabriel). Glastonbury was at that, time 
 
 D
 
 34 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [n 
 
 a desolate island full of fens and brambles ; and the church was 
 built, like the British houses, of wicker-work, or rods wattled 
 and interwoven. It was sixty feet long and twenty-five broad. 
 In this the early Christians "watched, fasted, prayed, and 
 preached ; having," says Fuller, " high meditations under a low 
 roof, and large hearts within narrow Avails." 
 
 17. Though the Roman government was generally so tolerant 
 of other religions, they began after a time to persecute the Chris- 
 tians. The reason seems to have been, that though 
 
 Persecution 
 
 they were quite wiliing to admit other gods side by 
 
 side with their own, it was only on the supposition that the old 
 
 gods did not lose their worship. But Christianity could not be 
 
 received on those terms. The early Christians and Fathers of 
 
 the Church did not even look on the heathen deities as mere 
 
 fables and shadows ; they believed that they really existed, but 
 
 were devils, and they taught that the gods of Rome and of all 
 
 other nations must be utterly renounced. Thus Christianity 
 
 came to be looked on as dangerous to the established order of 
 
 things and to the empire. 
 
 18. The heaviest and worst of the persecutions was under the 
 Emperor Diocletian, and this was the first one that reached 
 
 Britain. This lecture cannot end better than with 
 Aih Fuller's account of the first Christian martyr in our 
 
 country. "The first Briton which to heaven lid 
 the van of the noble army of martyrs was Alban, a wealthy 
 inhabitant of Verolam-cestre. . . . His conversion happened on 
 this manner: Amphibalus, a Christian preacher of Caer-leon, in 
 "Wales, was fain to fly from persecution into the eastern parts of 
 this island, and was entertained by Alban in his house in Veru- 
 lam. Soon did the sparks of this guest's zeal catch hold on his 
 host, and inflamed him with love to the Christian religion. . . . 
 Not long after, a search being made for Amphibalus, Alban 
 Becretly and safely conveyed him away, and, exchanging clothes 
 with him, offered himself for his guest to the pagan officers, wdio 
 at that instant were a-sacrificing to their devil-gods ; where not 
 "lily Alban, being required, refused to sacrifice, but also he 
 reproved others for so doing, and thereupon was condemned to 
 most cruel torments. But lie conquered their cruelty with his 
 patience; and though they tortured their brains to invent tor- 
 tures for him, be endured all witli cheerfulness, till rather 
 their weariness than pity made them desist. And here we must 
 bewail that we want the true story of this man's martyrdom, 
 which impudent monks have mixed with so many improbable
 
 iv.] THE ROMANS IN BRITAIN. 35 
 
 - that it is a torture to a discreet ear to hear them. How- 
 ever, we will set them down as we find then). . . . Alban being 
 sentenced to be beheaded, much people nocked to the place of 
 his execution, which was on a hill called Holm-hurst ; to which 
 they were to go over a river, where the narrow passage admitted 
 of very few abreast. Alban being to follow after all the multi- 
 tude, and perceiving it would be very late before he could act his 
 part, and counting every delay half a denial (who will blame one 
 for longing to have a crown 1), by his prayer obtained that the 
 *iver, parting asunder, afforded free passage for many together. . . 
 The sight hereof so wrought with him who was appointed to be 
 his executioner, that he utterly refused the employment, desiring 
 rather to die with him, or fur him, than to offer him any violence. 
 Yet soon was another substituted in his place, for some cruel 
 Doeg will quickly be found to do that office which more merciful 
 men decline. 
 
 •Alban, at the last, being come to the top of the hill, was 
 
 very dry, and desirous to drink. Wonder not that he, 'being 
 
 presently to taste of joys for evermore, should wish for fading 
 
 water. Sure he thirsted most for God's glory, and did it only 
 
 itch hold of the handle of an occasion to work a miracle for 
 
 the g 1 of the beholders. For presently, by his prayer, he 
 
 summoned up a spring to come forth on the top of the hill, to 
 the amazement of all that saw it. Yet it moistened not his 
 utioner's heart with any pity, who, notwithstanding, struck 
 oil' the head of that worthy saint, and instantly his own eyes fell 
 out of hia head, so thai he could not see the villany which he 
 had done. Presently after the former convert executioner, who 
 5m put Alban to death, was put to death himself — 
 baptized, do doubt, though not with water, in his own blood." 
 
 The stately abbey of St. Alban's marks the spot were his 
 martyrdom took place.
 
 3(i LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect., 
 
 o 
 
 323. 
 
 LECTURE V.— THE TEUTONS. 
 
 The decay of the Roman empire. Origin of the English people. The 
 Germans, or Teutons— their laws, manners, language, and religion. 
 
 1. As the Roman empire seemed now t<> have become too large 
 to be conveniently governed by one man living at Rome, it 
 va.< divided by Diocletian into four parts, which we may call 
 provinces, each of which had its own sub-emperor, though all 
 were still considered as one empire, and there was one chief or 
 supreme emperor. One of the provinces consisted of Britain, 
 Gaul*, and Spain; and the governor or sub-emperor (Caesar, as 
 in- was called) lived very often at York. 
 
 2. The great Constantine, who was the first Christian emperor, 
 was for a long time sub-emperor of this western province, and 
 
 lived at York. Afterwards the whole empire was 
 joined into one again under his rule, and it was 1m; 
 who founded as its capital the beautiful city of Constantinople, 
 ity of Constantine. 
 
 3. But we are now coming to the time when great disasters 
 befell this mighty empire; when it met with its strongest 
 en. -lilies, who linally broke it to pieces and planted themselves 
 on its ruins. And these' enemies, whom Rome could never con- 
 quer, but who conquered Rome, were our forefathers— the true 
 forefathers of the English people. Though there is reason to 
 
 ve that we are in some -mill part descended from the pre- 
 historic men, and from the Celts or Britons, yet the main stock 
 niii which we- spring, ami from whom we have our language, 
 our manners, ami our government, are these people, with whom 
 this lecture will be c »ncerned. So if we were interested in the 
 other nations of which we have heard, we ought to be still 
 more so in this one. 
 
 4. This which is called the Teutonic race was a branch, and 
 one of the greatest branches, of the Aryan family. At the time 
 
 we first hear of them they were, like most Other 
 
 Tne nations in the beginning of their history, wild and 
 
 Teutons. l >ar 1 >aT0Ua people. They were living north of the
 
 v.] THE TEUTONS. 37 
 
 Danube, east of the Rhine, in Denmark, and in other northern 
 parts. We know that they were all one race, though separated 
 into many tribes, by their language. Just as we judge the Indians, 
 ks, Romans, and others to be of one original race by their 
 having certain words and grammatical forms in common, so we 
 can judge the different families into which these larger ones 
 bn.ke up to belong to each other, by their languages being still 
 more like each other, by their having more of the same words, 
 and their grammar being still more similar. 
 
 5. The principal Teutonic nations are now called the German, 
 Dutch, English, American, Danish, Swedish, and Norwegian. 
 In "l.l times the principal tribes were called, Goths, Vandals, 
 Burgundians, Lombards, Saxons,and Angles. Tacitus says that 
 " Germany" was a name newly invented in his time. 
 
 <j. The word "Teuton 11 is believed by some authorities to 
 
 mean "speaking plain." These rough, wild people thought just 
 
 as most other uncultivated people do, thai their language was 
 
 only plain one, and they seem to have looked upon all others 
 
 as mere gibberish. Even now we may sometimes find English 
 
 tie tempted to talk of other; pie's Language as " gabble " 
 
 or "chatter." 
 
 The syllable "Ten! "or " Deut" meant clear; as we may see 
 in the German word "deutlich," plain or evident. " [sh " is a 
 mere termination, which we -till use in tool Lsh, Eng-lish, I >an-ish. 
 So they would Bay Deut-ish=Deutsch or Dutch. 
 
 7. These people then who talked plain, the Teutons or I >utch, 
 ■ a about the time of the birth of Christ to be very trouble- 
 some to the Romans; and to they continued, very often being 
 beaten, but never being conquered, until the time at which we 
 have now arrived ; ami it was owing bo them that the Romans 
 went away from our island al last, leaving room for them to come 
 afterwards and turn Britain into England. 
 
 B, The man who tells US mOSl about them at first, was tl mi 
 
 idy mentioned, who wrote the life of A.gricola- -Tacitus. 
 He, who evidently took a great Interest in the different nations 
 the Romans bad to do with 'for we saw that he wrote about the 
 el the Britons), wi Ion and very inter* sting 
 
 description of the < lermans, little thinking that these wild people, 
 whom : lilosopher looked upon wit h curiosity and into 
 
 would after a time be the conquerors and . I "I his own 
 
 n it ion. 
 9. Tacitus had complaint 1 > ■_ »od <h'^ ibout our climate, 
 being bo dull, damp, and hazy. Now see what he bout
 
 33 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lew. 
 
 Germany. "Besides the dangers from a yea tempestuous, 
 horrid, and unknown, who would relinquish Asia, Africa, or Italy 
 to repair to Germany — a region hideous and rude, under a rigor- 
 ous climate, dismal to behold or to cultivate, unless the same 
 were his native country ? Their land, taken altogether, consists of 
 horrid forests and nasty marshes." 
 
 10. The Germans, or Teutons, were in appearance much like 
 the Celts, being descendants from the same Aryan stock ; he 
 
 says they all " had eyes stern and blue, yellow hair, 
 
 eir „„ and huge bodies." Both the Gauls and the Germans 
 appearance. ° . . 
 
 were superior to the Romans m one point, namely, 
 the use of soap, though it does not seem quite clear whether 
 they employed it for cleanliness, or for the purpose of reddening 
 their hair. A strong soap, with plenty of lime or soda in it, 
 reddens the hair, and they appear to have thought it made them 
 look more fierce and terrible. However, they certainly cared 
 thing about cleanliness also ; for Tacitus tells us in another 
 place, that " the moment they rise from sleep they bathe ; most 
 frequently in warm water, as in a country where the winter is 
 very long and severe." 
 
 11. One very great and good point of the German character 
 was the honour they paid to women. They were almost the 
 
 only barbarians who were content with one wife ; 
 
 e women, j^ough even with them the kings or chiefs had more, 
 a^ a dignity. They respected their women extremely, and were 
 very careful of the honour and virtue of their wives and 
 daughters j so much so, that it was found by the Romans to 
 be the greatest safeguard to take hostages from among their 
 daughters. 
 
 When tiny went to battle their wives and children were lodged 
 near to the field, and to each man " these are the witnesses whom 
 he most reverences and dreads ; these yield him the praises which 
 affect him most. Their wounds or maims they carry to their 
 ne it hers or to their wives \ and these administer to their hus- 
 bands and sons, whilst engaged in battle, meat and encourage- 
 ment. Home armies, yielding and ready to fly, have been by 
 the women restored through their inflexible importunities and 
 entreaties. Captivity is far more dreaded by the Germans when 
 it befalls their women." 
 
 12. If the women had to be so courageous, we may suppose 
 what sort of fighters the men would be. "Many who have 
 
 escaped in the day of battle have hanged themselves 
 The warriors. ^ put anen( j to their infamy In the day of battle
 
 v.] THE TEUTONS. 39 
 
 it is scandalous to the prince to be surpassed in feats of bravery, 
 scandalous to his followers to fail in matching the bravery of 
 their prince. But it is infamy during life, and indelible reproach, 
 to return alive from a battle where their prince was slain." 
 Though they were so energetic in war, a most extraordinary- 
 contrast appeared in times of peace. Then it seems that " much 
 more of their time they pass in indolence, resigned to sleep and 
 repasts. All the most brave, all the most warlike, apply to 
 nothing at all ; hut to their wives, to the ancient men, and to 
 any, the most impotent domestic, trust all the care of their 
 house, their lands and possessions. They themselves loiter." 
 
 13. Their food was very simple; it consisted mostly of wild 
 fruit, cheese, venison, and grain. Some of those who dwelt on 
 
 hanks of the Rhine had vines and made wine; 
 but the most common drink appeared rather curious ,. a ° 
 to Tacitus. " For their drink they draw a liquor 
 from barley, and ferment the same, so as to make it resemble 
 wii We are rather fond of the same drink still ! 
 
 1 t. They were a very social and hospitable race. " To refuse 
 admitting under your roof any man whatsoever is held wicked 
 and inhuman. Every man receives every comer, and {reals him 
 with repaste as large as his ability can possibly furnish. When 
 tie- whole stock is ei mi - u i : t« -d , he who had treated so hospitably 
 
 impaniea his guest to a new scene of hospitality, and both 
 
 ceed to the next house, though neither of them were invited; 
 
 nor avails it that, they were not ; they are received with the same 
 
 ind humanity .... Their manner of entertaining their 
 
 ■miliar ami kind." They were also fond both of 
 
 giving and receiving pre • i 
 
 B< ides what Tacitus tells us, we know something about their 
 ways of life from a long poem of their own, which our fore- 
 fathers brought with them when they came to 
 England, and which contains the wonderful adven- 
 tures of a great hero, Beowulf. In it there is an accounl of one 
 of their festivals. All the company received gifts; and besidi 
 and drinking, they were entertained with music and 
 iging. The queen gave a mantle and a collar to Beowulf, who 
 tii" principal guest, and with it a pretty little speech, con- 
 taining some good advice. After bidding him be gentle and Kiel 
 to her little sons, die adds — 
 
 " IF' ry min To "tin r tru< | 
 
 Mild of mood; To bit liegi lord faithful;
 
 40 LECTURES ON ENGLISII HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 The thcgns * are united, The people are prepared, 
 The drunken vassals Do as I bid them." 
 
 Thus we see how high a tone the German lady takes. But the 
 last line shows us also the darker side of these feasts. Tacitus 
 tells us the same. " To continue drinking night and day, with- 
 out intermission, is a reproach to no man." And, as we should 
 expert, this intemperate drinking led to high words, fighting, and 
 slaughter. 
 
 15. Their dress consisted of a mantle, which is " Avhat they 
 all wear, fastened with a clasp, or, for want of that, with a 
 
 thorn." They also used for ornament furs and 
 the skins of sea-monsters ; perhaps those were seal- 
 skins. The women dressed like the men, except that they wore 
 linen, emhroidered with purple, which sounds rather pretty. 
 
 16. They hated cities, and loved to live apart. The older 
 
 civilized people, the Greeks and the Romans, loved city life : 
 
 „ .. . that was their idea of civilization. People who 
 Habitations. ■,. i • ,i ,. j -j. 
 
 lived m the country were rustics, and quite on a 
 
 lower level. Another word they had for those who did not live 
 
 in cities, but in villages or hamlets, was " pagan " (from the Latin 
 
 pagus, a village). That word afterwards came to bear cpiite 
 
 another sense, and meant an idolater. This shows us that whin 
 
 the Romans were beginning to learn Christianity, it was at first 
 
 the more intelligent and the more civilized who were ready to 
 
 believe it, while the ignorant people, who dwelt in the country 
 
 and worked in the fields, still believed in and were content with 
 
 the old religion. But the Teutons, who themselves liked living 
 
 in villages and cultivating the ground, when they became 
 
 ( luistians, had another name for those who still clung to the 
 
 • ■Id gods. They called them " heathen," or dwellers in wild heaths 
 
 and wildernesses, and these were just as much behind the more 
 
 civilized among the Teutons as the pagans were behind the 
 
 an citizens 
 
 17. It was, perhaps, one reason why those great Greeks and 
 Romans could not maintain their position in the world, that they 
 were never able to get to the idea of a nation, never beyond 
 that of a city ; while the Teutons, who did not love cities, grew 
 by degrees from families to tribes, from tribes to small kingdoms, 
 from small kingdoms to great nations, as we shall see by and 
 bye in our English history. 
 
 18. At the time of which Tacitus writes "they inhabited 
 
 * Or chiefs.
 
 vl THE TEUTONS. 41 
 
 apart and distinct." Instead of cities, they planted villages, just 
 
 as a fountain, a field, or a wood invited them. They seem to 
 
 have felt, as an Englishman does, that every man's house is his 
 
 castle ; for the houses did not touch each other; each one had a 
 
 vacant place all round it. Then, again, the villages were very 
 
 independent of one another, and each had its own free space 
 
 bordering it on every side, a ring of common ground where they 
 
 thought the fairies and spirits dwelt. This ring or borderdand 
 
 was called the mark or march ; if a stranger entered the march 
 
 he had to blow a horn, for if he came in secretly every one had 
 
 a right to kill him; which shows that they still felt, as in old 
 
 times, that unless they were of one family, or had made special 
 
 iv nun was the enemy of every other man. 
 
 10. Tie- Teutons, who honoure-1 their wives so highly, thought 
 
 also very much of other family ties. To kill infants wis 
 
 n abominable sin, whereas among the 
 , , \- •<. -j Family 
 
 Romans, and many other nations, it was quite a f ee iiug-. 
 
 common practice, and hardly at all blamable, to kill 
 
 them, especially girls. The mothers all nourished their own 
 
 children, and they were brought up in very hardy and healthy 
 
 habits ; the young lord and the young slave just in the same way 
 
 till the pf.pei- time came to .-. parate them. The family all hung 
 
 together; and each village or settlement was inhabited by 
 
 supposed to be so. " All the enmities of your house, 
 
 whether of your father or your kindred, you must adopt, as well 
 
 their friendships." If any one in the family did a wrong 
 action, if he murdered or robbed a man of another family, i; was 
 not Looked on so much as hie own deed as that of his whole 
 family, his father, ancles, brothers, and cousins; and the whole 
 family had to make Li _ I. All the members of a family were 
 
 nd to protect each other from wrong, and, if possible, to 
 hinder each other from ing. 
 
 20. They were above everything noted for their love of liberty, 
 though, like the Etonians, they p I laves, who were, pro- 
 
 onquered capl i fir t. Bui they then I were 
 
 freeman had some fuel of his own, and had a hare 
 in the government. 
 
 21. Even in those old da; mething like our own 
 con titution. Now we liave a king (or queen), the Hon • of I. 
 "I" 1 ,; ! oi Common Then, in nearly 0overnment 
 all the tribes, there was a b malJ assembly 
 
 of chiefs, aiders, or wise men, and embly of the whole 
 
 people, of all the freemen. Our Hon f Common does not 
 
 consisl inde,-. I of all the people, because, oi course, in a {
 
 42 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 country it is impossible for all to assemble; members of Parlia- 
 ment are, therefore, chosen or elected by the people to represent 
 and speak for them. 
 
 The king was elected, but always out of one family — a special 
 family which was supposed to be descended from their principal 
 god, Woden. 
 
 The chiefs were chosen for their courage and talents, and were 
 always followed by a band of brave young freemen. They were 
 called by a name which we do not now think very grand or 
 dignified — aldermen, or, in the old spelling, ealdormen : eldermen. 
 In those days, at any rate, age was supposed to confer wisdom, 
 and elder or alderman was a title of honour. 
 
 Among the freemen themselves there was a certain difference 
 of rank. Some were earls and some were churls. The earls 
 were the most nobly born. The word churl lias a bad meaning 
 now, hut it had not that formerly; it only meant that he was of 
 lower rank. No doubt the higher-bred man was more polite; 
 and so to be less polite or less generous came to be called 
 "churlish." 
 
 22. This old Parliament, when there was any important matter 
 tn be decided, assembled in the open air. All the freemen, both 
 earls and churls, came in a very independent style; all armed, 
 and sitting down wherever they pleased. But it was only the 
 king and the chiefs who spoke. They had probably already dis- 
 cussed the affair in private, and then stood forth, not to command, 
 but to persuade the people. They made the very best and finest 
 speeches they could (just as our Prime Minister would do now), 
 while everybody listened ; when they had explained what they 
 wished to do, "if the proposition displease they reject it by an 
 inarticulate murmur; if it be pleasing they brandish their jave- 
 lins. The most honourable manner of signifying their assent is 
 to express their applause by the sound of their arms." 
 
 23. As to their language, their " plain speech" as they call it, 
 the very first written specimen we have of it is a translation of 
 
 the Bible, which was made for a tribe of the Goths 
 anguage. ^y their Bishop Uliilas, in the fourth century. The 
 good bishop, however, missed out some of the accounts of the 
 Jewish wars in his translation, because his flock were already so 
 quarrelsome ! We certainly should not be able to read it now, 
 but we should find in it a great many words just like our own. 
 The earliest written English also seems very different from our 
 lish. So doe3 a child of a year old look very different from 
 the man or woman of fifty ; nevertheless, it is only the same per- 
 son at another age. And so, or almost so, is our English language
 
 v.] THE TEUTONS. 43 
 
 as compared with the old English.. Of the oilier Teutonic 
 languages now existing, the German, Dutch, or Danish, we may 
 they are brothers or sisters, very much like each other, but 
 i ach with their own specialties. 
 
 24. We could write a long list of words which are almost 
 exactly the same in Euglish and German. Here are a few of the 
 
 nest : Father. Mother, Brother. Sister, Neighbour, Friend, 
 Man, House. Boat, Ship, Ox, Cow, Land), Mouse, Bread, Butter, 
 Fish, Flesh, Arm, Hand, Shoulder, Finger, Good, Young, Fine. 
 The Low Dutch, or language spoken in Holland, is still more 
 like Fnglish than even the German, or High Dutch as they call 
 it themselves. 
 
 25. With respect to their religion, Tacitus says that, "from 
 the grandeur and majesty of beings celestial, they judge it 
 altogether unsuitahle to hold the gods inclosed 
 
 within walls, or to represent them under any human Kehg""*- 
 likeness." Still they seem to have hail Linages, which they kept 
 in groves and forests, but which they earned about with them 
 when they travelled. 
 
 Their principal god was Odin, or Woden, from whom all their 
 kin;.'- were Bupposed to be descended. HLe was the god of war, but 
 they also believed that he bad invented the letters of the alphabet. 
 
 26. The most interesting thing of all is what, we tind aboui 
 their god Tin. The principal god of the |; imans, as will be 
 remembered, was Jupiter, the Bkj father. 'The real word was 
 
 Ju, to whieh piter, lor pater or lather, was added. The same 
 
 word came from the old Aryan stock to our forefathers also. 
 
 In Sanskrit it was Dyuj in Greek Zeus; in Latin -In; in 
 
 tonic Tin. The French word for Cod, Dieu, again, is the 
 
 same. All these have the sane- meaning of heaven, and God in 
 
 heaven, dust a- the Romans added the word " father" to i he name 
 
 of their god, so the Teutons also Looked on Tin as their lather. 
 
 His -on was Mannu , or Man (the thinker). Is it nol very 
 
 grand to find in these old religions how man Loved to feel liim- 
 
 d 1 
 
 l'7. Oar names for the days of the week, as is well known, 
 
 were originally given in honour of the god and Idi esofour 
 
 i tfa .n and I he moon ; linn Tin ; tle-n 
 
 Wodeu or Odin; then Thor 01 Thunder, the god of 
 nexl Lfrea or Eriga, the goddi ol peace and plenty; and La tlj 
 :■-. of whom Little if anything remains but hi. nine'. 
 Their beautiful godde - of Bpring and dawn wa I o tre, who 
 still gives her nam I ho," fuJ and joyful of the 
 
 Christian f- Btivals.
 
 44 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. |i.E"T. 
 
 LECTURE VI.— THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH. 
 
 Departure of the Romans. The Picts and Scots. The settlements of the 
 English— their treatment of the Britons. Cerdic. Arthur. 
 
 1. From the time of Tacitus onwards the Teutonic tribes con- 
 tinued harassing the Roman empire, and by the beginning of 
 the fifth century they were giving so much trouble, even in Italy 
 itself, that the Romans wanted all their legions nearer home. 
 They began to withdraw from their more distant provinces, as 
 from Roumania, which was then called Dacia, and from Britain. 
 Before they went away they repaired the wall of 
 41 °- Hadrian from the Tyne to the Sol way, as the northern 
 
 Departure o b ar b ar ia lls were a j so growing more and more trouble- 
 tne Komans. ° ° ... 
 
 some, lhe Romans fully meant to come back again ; 
 
 but they never did so — they never could find the opportunity. 
 
 The Teutons spread everywhere. There were Goths in Italy, 
 
 Goths in Spain, Vandals in Africa, Franks in Gaul, and very 
 
 soon Angles in Britain. 
 
 2. Now came the proof of what was said above. The Roman 
 civilization forced on the Britons had done but little good and 
 much harm. They had been so used to be governed by others 
 thai they did not know how to govern themselves; they had 
 
 I :i so used to be fought for that they had nearly forgotten 
 
 how to fight for themselves. As soon as the strong hand, which 
 had kept them under while protecting them, was lifted off every- 
 thing seemed fco fall to pier,-. 
 
 3. The Britons began to quarrel among themselves. Some, 
 perhaps the leasi civilized of them, made friends with the 
 
 ^ barbarians to the north, who were, of course, their 
 
 Scots' 1 kinsfolk. These barbarians, seeing the comforts ami 
 
 wealth of the civilized regions where the Romanized 
 
 Britons lived, soon managed to get over the Roman wall, and to 
 
 make plundering expeditions into the very heart of the country. 
 
 4. The Romanized Britons hardly knew how to defend them- 
 selves ; they had lost their savage courage, and had not learnt
 
 vi.] THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH. 4.'. 
 
 the Roman discipline. One of them, named Gildas, who is 3up- 
 1 to have lived in the sixth century, and who wrote a very 
 curious history of the times after the departure of the Romans, 
 gives an account of the northern enemies. 
 
 5. "We have now done with our Roman authorities, with 
 Julius Caesar and Tacitus ; this is the first British book we 
 have had. Gildas, however, wrote in Latin, though 
 
 not in the masterly style of either Cassar or Tacitus. 
 He evidently tried very hard to write in a fine manner; some- 
 times he appears to have attempted to imitate the old Hebrew 
 prophets, and it is astonishing what a number of wicked kings 
 and other people he found to denounce. 
 
 6. This is a translation of his description of the Picts and 
 
 is those northern invaders were called. "The Picts 
 and Scots, like worms which in the heat of mid-day come forth 
 from their holes, hastily land again from their canoes ; . . . differing 
 from one another in manners, but inspired with the same avidity 
 for blood, and all more eager to shroud their villanous faces in 
 
 by hair than to cover with decent clothing those parts of 
 their body which required it. Moreover, having heard of the 
 departure of our friends" (that is, of the Romans), "and their 
 resolution never to retain, they seized with greater boldness than 
 before on all the country as Ear as the wall, To oppose them 
 there was placed on the heights a garrison equally slow to fight 
 and ill-adapted to run away — a useless and panic struck company, 
 who slumbered away days and nights on their unprofitable watch. 
 Meanwhile the hooked weapons of their enemies were not idle, 
 and our WTetched countrymen were dragged from the wall and 
 dashed againsl the ground. . . But why should I say morel They 
 left their cities, abandoned the protection of the wall, and 
 
 ersed them in flighl more <\f perately than before. 
 
 The enemy, on the other hand, pui ued then: with more un- 
 relenting cruelty than before, and butchered our countrymen 
 like sheep." 
 
 7. I »uring all these troublous times we can see with reverence 
 the influence of Christianity in the wonderful men who too 
 
 it, were, in the breach, to help the conquered, to tame and soften 
 the conquerors. 1 fear we in England do great inju tics to the 
 memory ofth< e saints. Becau il many fables and 
 
 tales have grown up about their histories, and too much has been 
 • of the honour and reverence due to them, and because ome 
 of the saints in the Roman calendar were noted for what we 
 call virtues at all, we are apt to confuse them altogel
 
 4G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect 
 
 and think the. very word '"'saint" means some useless unprac- 
 tical bigot; that is, if we ever think about them at all. For 
 the most part, however, we have quite forgotten them, or only 
 know their names as belonging to old churches and towns. 
 
 8. But when we read different histories of these, times, Ave find 
 there have always been wonderful Christian heroes (sometimes 
 on the Danube, sometimes in Italy, and other places), leading 
 glorious liveS), dying glorious deaths ; teaching, baptizing, rnediat- 
 in rr , feeding the starving, clothing the naked. One such man 
 
 was in Britain while the wars with the Picts and 
 „ St '. Scots were at their height — Saint Germain or Ger- 
 
 manus, a bishop from Gaul, lie had come over 
 to Britain to argue against some heretics. For, unhappily, 
 Christians had already begun cp.iarrellin.u- about words and 
 i ines which are hard to understand. However, while in the 
 country he was implored to aid the poor Britons against their 
 enemies, and he is said to have presided over the most singular 
 l;i! lie that, perhaps, ever took place on English ground. Puller 
 tells us the story 
 
 " The pious bishop " (after baptizing multitudes of pagan con- 
 429 verts), '•' turning politic engineer, chose a place of 
 
 advantage, being a hollow dale surrounded with hills. 
 . . . Here Germanus placed his men in ambush, with instruc- 
 tions that, at a signal given, they should all shout 'Hallelujah' 
 three times with all their might, which was done accordingly. 
 The pagans were surprised with the suddenness and loudness of 
 such a sound, much multiplied by the ai Ivantageof the echo, where- 
 by their fear brought in a false list of their enemies' number ; and, 
 rather trusting their ears than their eyes, they reckoned their 
 foes by the increase of the noise rebounded unto them; and 
 then, allowing two hands for every mouth, how vast was their 
 army ! But besides the concavity of the valley improving the 
 sound, God sent a hollovmess into the hearts of the pagans, so 
 that . . . without striking a stroke, they confusedly ran away. 
 . . . Thus a bloodless victory was gotten without sword drawn, 
 consisting of no fight, but a fright and a flight." 
 
 0. If this victory, however, " not by shooting, but by shout- 
 ing," was ever really achieved, the Britons were very unsuccessful 
 on the whole. They turned and prayed the Romans to come 
 back and help them. This is part of the letter they wrote to 
 yKtius, who was a Roman general and consul. "The groans of 
 the Britons. The barbarians drive us to the sea ; the sea throws 
 us back on the barbarians; thus two modes of death await us :
 
 vi.] THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH. 47 
 
 we are either slain or drowned." VTe see how much the Britons 
 changed from the old days of Caradoc and Boadicea. It 
 was really about time cowards like this got a new master. 
 
 10. For as the Eomans had now too much on their hands to 
 come back, the distressed Britons had to look out for some one 
 else to help them. This time it was rather like the sheep praying 
 lli>- wolves to take care of them. The people they turned to 
 had indeed been called " sea-wolves." They were the English. 
 
 11. At this time they were living as three tribes in Sleswig, 
 and near the mouth of the Elbe. They were called 
 
 tli'- Angles, the Saxons, and the Jutes, and the EneUsh 
 Angles were the most important and powerful of 
 them. Though they were near neighbours, they were quit.' 
 distinct from one another, and continued su long after they 
 came into Britain. They hardly deserved a better name at 
 present than sea-wolves or pirates. They were good sailors, as 
 we are now, and good fighters. They had long been accustomed 
 to come ravaging and pillaging on the coasts of Britain. 
 
 12. In an evil hour for the Britons, but in a good hour for 
 us, Vortigern, a British king of Kent, bethought him of hiring 
 
 ■ if barbarians against another, and of persuading these 
 Teutonic pirates to fight for him against the Picts and Scots, 
 promising them in return not ojdy money, but lands. "The 
 iriaii-," says the Briton Gildas, "being thus introduced as 
 soldiers into the island, to encounter, as they falsely said, any 
 dangers in defence of their hospitable entertainers, obtain an 
 allowance of provisions, which, for some time, being . 
 
 plentifully bestowed, stopped their doggish mouths, arrival. 
 Y.i they complain that their monthly supplies are 
 
 ficient abundance, and I be) indu I riou lya 
 
 t quarrel, saying that, unless more liberality 
 
 .^ Bhown them they will break the treaty and plunder the whole 
 island. In a short time they follow up their threats with deeds." 
 
 13. Their in t landing-place was at Ebb fleet, in the Isle of 
 Thanet, which was then much mop' of an Island than it La dow, 
 and ed from the mainland by a difficult and dangei 
 ford. Vortigern, perhaps, thought thai he could pen them up 
 then-, and they would come no farther, lint he little knew 
 what he ha.| done. After the quarrel Gildas mentions, and 
 more and more of tie coming pouring in. they soon 
 
 i .ait ..I' the island, under their two chiefs rlengist and 
 II, - \ : , of both these chiel meanl hoi 
 
 a German word i"i hoi e now;, and the I .•! Kent
 
 4S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 horse to this day. I believe we may still see a horse marked on 
 the sacks of hops which come from Kent. Our forefathers liked 
 naming themselves after animals, but especially after wolves. 
 
 14. They crossed the fen 1 which bounded the Isle of Thanet on 
 the west, and marched towards London, which Avas a rich town 
 even in the old Roman days, noted, as it is now, for its com- 
 merce. The first great battle with the Britons was fought on 
 
 the way, at Aylesford in Kent, and the English con- 
 
 Th fi t f l uerec b though one of their chiefs, Horsa, was slain. 
 
 battle. After this victory there was a frightful massacre. 
 
 These " wolves," our ancestors, -were still heathens, 
 and very cruel and merciless. The other Teutons who invaded 
 the Roman empire had partly learned I ihristianity, and with it 
 had become more pitiful, so that they did not utterly exter- 
 minate the conquered. But it was a long time before those in 
 Britain learnt Christianity. Many of the Britons lied from their 
 homes, and took refuge in caves; the same caves where the. old 
 palaeolithic men had fought with hy;enas and bears long ago. In 
 those caves, where, deep down, we find rough flint implements 
 and bones, there are found nearer to the top the golden orna- 
 ments of the British ladies, their pins and combs, and beautiful 
 enamelled brooches ; and their money, with Roman inscriptions. 
 
 15. The first of the kingdoms winch the Teuton invaders 
 funded was that of the Jutes in Kent. Afterwards the Saxons 
 also began to settle themselves in the southern counties, in 
 Hampshire, Dorsetshire, &c. under their king, Cerdic. 
 
 Cerdic was the forefather, either directly or indirectly, of all 
 
 our kings and queens, even down to Queen Victoria, 
 
 _ ,.' so we ought to remember his name • and he was 
 
 Cerdic 
 
 called the King of Wessex, or the West Saxons. 
 
 16. Although Gildas speaks bo slightingly of the courage of 
 the Britons, still they held out in different parts for a long time, 
 and sometimes beat their enemies back. It was most likely 
 during the founding of the kingdom of Wessex that King 
 Arthur lived and fought (if he ever lived at all), though it is 
 thought by some that his kingdom was on the border-land 
 between England and Scotland. He was a British king, and 
 we all know from Tennyson's [dylls that he was continually 
 fii hting against heathenism and lawlessness. Those heathen 
 were the Angles and Saxons. 
 
 17. A very amusing old knight, Sir Richard Baker, who in 
 
 the seventeenth century wrote a most quaint history 
 of England, gives us this account of King Arthur.
 
 vi.] THE COMING OF THE ENGLISH. 49 
 
 " He in twelve set battles discomfited the Saxons ; but in one 
 most memorable, in which, girding himself with his sword 
 ' CaUiboum,' he flew upon his enemies, and with his own hand 
 slew 800 of them ; which is but one of his wonderful deeds, 
 whereof there are so many reported that he might well be 
 reckoned among the fabulous, if there were not enough true to 
 give them credit ! " Perhaps we may not be quite so ready as 
 .Sir Richard to believe these exploits, though even he is more 
 moderate than one of the old British writers, who says Arthur 
 slew in that battle " 940 by his hand alone, no one but the Lord 
 affording him assistance." 
 
 18. But all would not avail. The sturdy English pushed on, 
 massacring many of the Britons, enslaving some, and driving 
 others farther and farther west. The Teutons called all people 
 whose lai they did not understand Welsh. Those wholive 
 
 near Italy still call the Italians "Welsh, and their country Welsh- 
 land. Those who came to Britain called the Celts or Britons 
 Welsh, and so we call some of them to this very day. But it 
 must be remembered, that not only those we now call Welsh, but 
 the Irish, the Highland Scotch, and the dwellers in the Isle of 
 Man are descended from the old < !elts, and speak dialects of their 
 old language. So do many of the people who live in Brittany 
 in France. So did, till aboul 100 y.:us ago, the people in 
 Cornwall, which was called West Wales. A very short time 
 since a monument was erected in memory of the old lady who 
 • be Cornish tongue. 
 
 19. I' rious thing that the Britl-th cattle seem to have 
 undergone the same fate a- their masters. The Britons had a 
 breed of small and short-horned cattle, which -till survive in 
 Wales and Scotland, and until lately were also to 1"- mel with in 
 Cornwall and Cumberland. Mo I of us know the look of the 
 
 wild Welsh and Highland cattle, which are imes 
 driven to London. AW our English breeds arederived from 
 
 the English brought with them, some of which still live wild 
 
 in ChUlingham Park. This breed was formerly called the 
 
 20. Wbilsl the n -\ of the country seemed to n up to 
 
 . and heathenism . in Wal< b, in Ireland, and in < '"in wall 
 the Christian religion continued to flourish, and 
 learning was kepi up. It is said thai there were -00 tianitv 
 
 philosophers in < !aer l< on, which i but 
 
 was a thriving city thru; and there were some notable ainfs 
 among them. Many of the villages and town in Cornwall are 
 
 i.
 
 BO LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 named after ancient saints, whose history is, perhaps, very 
 interesting, but of whom we know scarcely anything. Fuller 
 studied the Iif>' "I St David, the patron saint, of Wales, and 
 
 • ■ have found it very attractive reading; but he says, "I 
 am sensible thai I have spent, to my shame, so much precious 
 time in reading the legend of his life, that I will not wilfully 
 double my guiltiness in writing tin- same, and tempt the reader 
 
 : '1 in like nature." 
 
 We must tak. fche hint, and pause.
 
 vii.] THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 51 
 
 LECTURE VII.— THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 
 
 The introduction of Christianity. Gregory the Great. State of Christianity 
 in the sixth century. Civilizing uitkience of the Christian teachers. 
 Monasteries. Bede. 
 
 1. We have now heard of the founding of two kingdoms, Kent 
 and Wessex, by the Jutes and the Saxons. Afterwards there 
 came in more Saxons, who founded other kingdoms : the East 
 Saxons, Middle Saxons, and South Saxons, who gave the names 
 with which we are so familiar to Essex, Middlesex, and Sussex. 
 (Kent is the old British name.) And then came also the Angles, 
 who founded the kingdoms of Northumberland (which was the 
 name given to all the land north of the river Humber), East 
 Anglia, which was divided between the North-folk and the South- 
 folk, and Mercia, which is in the middle of England. 
 
 2. Jly looking on the map we see thai the Angles, who had 
 been the most important of the three tribes before they came to 
 Britain at all, now got possession of the largest share of the new 
 country, and, by degrees, the whole of the Land inhabited by the 
 Teuton invaders came to be called Angle-land or England. The 
 Welsh, however, generally called the Teutons, Saxons, because it 
 the Sax ins in Wessex who made; the greatest impression on 
 them ; and the Welsh and the Bighlanders call us Saxons to this 
 
 h ■. In many lii tories of England wo find all our forefathers 
 
 called Saxons j but it seems better, when we are speaking of 
 them all under one name, to call them by the same which they 
 bear still, the English. As there were but very few of the .lutes 
 in comparison with the other two tribes, and their name sunn 
 died out,, we may also very properly call them Anglo-Saxon ; 
 only, if we do thai, we mu t not forget that they are our own 
 ancestors. 
 
 .. The even principal kingdoms which the invaders founded 
 • Kent, We ex, Northumberland, Mercia, Sussex, Essex, and 
 I I Anglia. These are generally called the " Hept- 
 archy," which is a Greek word, meaning " the rule Th " V' 1 ' 1 ' 
 of seven." But there m ver could be said to I"- a real 
 
 E 2
 
 LEI TURE3 OH ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 feting of • '■•!! Bettled kingdoms. They were 
 
 always, when Qot fighting the Welsh, fighting each other, and 
 
 then would I"- more, jometimea fewer, kings. North- 
 
 umherland was often divided into two parts, Bernicia and Deira, 
 
 , of which bad its own king. Still, on the whole, there may 
 
 lid t" have been those Beven kingdoms; and the rest of the 
 
 nfcry, Walk's, Cornwall, and Strathclyde, which was the name 
 
 given t<> Cumberland, Westmoreland, and put of Scotland, still 
 
 aged to the Britons. Northumberland reached as far north 
 
 as the river Forth, and the Lowland Scotch are, in reality, Angles 
 
 I Inglish, lib 
 
 •1. During all this time tin- country must have heen in a fear- 
 ful state, wiih these heathen warriors marauding and fighting, 
 and taking | on of tin' land; though when they settled 
 
 it" have Lived quietly in their village communi- 
 it home. The Britons would nol or could not teach them 
 Christianity ; most Likely they wen- too proud to learn of their 
 Fuller tin' conversion of ( ier- 
 
 • backward, because, out of defiance to the Romans, they 
 . their own barbarism, mad.' lovely with liberty ; blotting 
 .11 civility from themselves, as jealous that it would usher in 
 subjection." 
 
 though the Welsh and [rish continued to improve in 
 
 tung and religion, this had no effeel on the English. At last, 
 
 . they too learnl Christianity, and they learnl it from the 
 
 Romans. The history of the conversion of the English is told us 
 
 mtifully by an Englishman who lived not very long 
 
 . or tie- Venerable Bede, as he is called. It is 
 
 him that we learn the well-known story,how Pope Gregory 
 
 the market place at Rome, where among 
 
 ' ome bo de, their bodies 
 
 beautiful, their hair very line;" how 
 
 nation they were, be said, With those 
 
 id 1>" not Angles, bul Angels; and how he 
 
 I till m .! to England to withdraw 
 
 ■ m the wrath of God, and teach them to sin- His 
 
 '11. a >.. is gn at and good man ; such 
 
 perha] to the age he lived in than 
 
 ; ioked on them as 
 
 "' the • 1 the Roman mis ionaries, with 
 
 •heir c. ae to England) landing, as the first
 
 vn.] THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 53 
 
 English settlers had done, in the Isle of Thanet. 
 Ethelbert, the King of Kent, "ordered them to stay 597. 
 in that island, where they had landed, and that they t - The ^ rl - S " 
 should be furnished with all necessaries, till he should aries. 
 consider what to do with them." He was not ill- 
 disposed to Christianity, for he himself had married a Christian 
 princess from France, and, considering the high respect all his race 
 bore to their wives, Queen Bertha's opinions would doubtless 
 have great weight with him. 
 
 7. Still he was afraid to let the missionaries come into his 
 house, " lest, according to an ancient superstition, if they prac- 
 tised any magical arts, they might impose upon him, and get the 
 
 ' "better of him." So, like the true Teuton he was, he chose to 
 receive them sitting in the open air. Augustine and his com- 
 panions came before him, " furnished with Divine, not with magic, 
 virtue, bearing a silver cross for their banner, and the image of 
 our Lord and Saviour painted on a board ; and, singing the Litany, 
 they offered up their prayers to the Lord for the eternal salvation 
 both of themselves and of those to whom they Avere come." 
 
 8. After the conference the king permitted them to live in 
 Canterbury, and to preach to any who chose to listen to them. 
 Bere they lived and laboured to such good purpose 
 
 that "several believed and were baptized, admiring Co "^ rsion 
 the simplicity of their innocent life, and the sweet- 
 ness of their heavenly doctrine.'' Before long the king himself 
 was converted, and after that many more of the people followed 
 his example. " Their conversion the king so far encouraged, as 
 that he compelled none to embrace < !hristianity, hut only showed 
 more affection to the believers, as to his fellow-citizens in the 
 heavenly kingdom. For he had learned from his instructors and 
 leaders to salvation that tin', service, of Christ ought to he volun- 
 tary, not, by compulsion." 
 
 '.». Let OS QOW pause to consider the state of Christianity at 
 
 the time when these Roman missionaries brought it to England. 
 
 Any one, who re;uls the (io.-]>e|s mu.-t surely be struck with 
 
 the simplicity of Christ's teaching ; how little dogmati m there 
 i- in it, how little formality, how little mystery; how much 
 practice, how much kindliness and gentleness, how much faith 
 and tru I in God as a Father. In the live or six hundred ; 
 which had |n ed since the death of Christ, what had happened? 
 
 10. The Christian religion had. in some respects, 
 changed very much from what Christ had taught, Ch , tn . 
 and was on its way to change more.
 
 .1 LECTTKKS ON KXGLISH BISTORT. [leot. 
 
 God seemed removed immeasurably farther off. Even 
 Christ seemed more awful and less sympathizing. Men sought 
 oul Borne intermediate beings, nearer bo themselves, and less 
 terrible. They thought al deal of angels; still more of 
 
 saints ; above all, of the Virgin Mary. She became the ideal of 
 tend< rness and purity. It can hardly be said that she took tho 
 
 place of tl lil heathen goddesses, for she was far higher, purer, 
 
 and more gentle than they : bu1 as Bome of them had appeared 
 to be wise, smiling, and beneficent, and had been dearly loved 
 ami honoun d, all thai love, and much more, was now lavished on 
 the Mother of < Ihrist. 
 
 2nd. Besides good supernatural beings, they believed very 
 vividly also in evil ones, and in the power and number of the 
 devils. They thought they were ever on the watch to tempt and 
 to I- guile. Everything they did not understand, any mysterious 
 Bight -id, they thought was the work of some evil spirit; 
 
 and they believed in po m by devils. Gregory himself, who 
 
 : and learned, as well as good, tells of a woman 
 who eat a lettuce withoul making the sign of the cross, and who, 
 with it, Bwallowed a devil and became possessed. 
 
 :. They had a most wonderful awe and reverence for 
 
 ;" that is, for things which were believed to have he- 
 
 1 !hrist or the .-aims. We can quite understand the 
 
 . we ourselves have a feeling of tenderness and 
 
 ■i for any. even valueless, object which reminds us of one 
 
 who has 1 □ dear to us. We tn i are Locks of hair, and other 
 
 , and would not like them rudely handled; hut the 
 
 had already become superstitious. Gregory said that if 
 
 prol attempted to move or touch the relies of saints, 
 
 kept in all the churches, they would fall down 
 
 1. 
 
 i. The wh rice had become more rittialiatic, Tho 
 
 ind bishops were Looked on as d red, and far removed 
 
 :iimon : i imenl was far more of a mystery 
 
 . it had been'ofold. 1 aid pictures were u helps 
 
 tion, though they were not worshipped. We saw that 
 
 and his companions had a cross and a picture of 
 
 1 
 
 ■ ■ The l of all, perhaps, was the growth of what 
 
 -in ; that is, a hatred of the body, of all common, 
 
 life, of natural affection, of marriage. The height of 
 
 virtu.-, in the Opinion of many, wils to withdraw from the world,
 
 vii.] THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 55 
 
 from all useful occupations, from all love and happiness, and to 
 give themselves up to prayer, fasting, and watching. This is 
 very different from what we think the Bible teaches. "If any 
 man love God, let him love his brother also." But in all times 
 there has been a craving in some minds for being, as they feel, 
 "alone with God." Many Protestants have something of the 
 same sentiment, and Cowper expressed it very beautifully when 
 he wrote — 
 
 " Far from the world, Lord, I flee, 
 From strife and tumult far ; 
 From scenes where Satan wages still 
 
 His too successful war. 
 The calm retreat, the silent shade, 
 
 With piaycr and praise ajjree, 
 And seem by Thy sweet bounty made 
 For those who follow Thee." 
 
 In none of these things should we wish to condemn unreservedly ; 
 for even when we differ we can sometimes sympathize. Indeed, 
 if we wish to understand we must sympathize to some extent ; 
 Ave must try to see what other men have felt, and how they came 
 to fed it, though we may have other feelings and thoughts of 
 duty ourselves. This is mure necessary in matters of religion 
 than in any others, fur the religion which people really believe 
 is the most important fact about them. 
 
 11. Though we may think that Christianity had in some 
 things changed for the worse, let us remember with thankfulness 
 how pure, how merciful, how beautiful it was still; and never 
 cease to love the name of Gregory and Augustine, who taught it 
 to our fathers. 
 
 After about twenty years Christianity reached Northumber- 
 land. The principal missionary who went there was a certain 
 Bishop Paulinus, who was described by one of those whom he 
 baptized as "a man tall of stature, a little stooping, his hair 
 black, Ids visage meagre, his nose slender and aquiline, his 
 aspect both venerable and majestic." 
 
 12. The good Gregory was now dead, but his successor, Popo 
 Boniface, took a great interest in the affairs of England, and: cut, 
 
 Lettei of good advice to the King of Northumberland and 
 his wife. With his Lettei lie sent presents : to the king a birt, 
 a robe, and a ""Men ornament; to the queen a silver looking- 
 glass and a gilt ivory coinbj ami to both the blessing of St. 
 Peter. 
 
 13. The. Bong of Northumberland was at this time a very
 
 5G LECT1 RES ON ENQLISB HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 rerful and influential man named Edwin.* He, too, had a 
 
 Christian wife, for he bad married the daughter of 
 
 627. King Ethelhert of Cent Be did not emhrace the 
 
 Conversion ;,._,,,,„ hastily, but, "beings man of extraor- 
 
 ° b?r°ian h d Um ' dinary Bagacity, be Bate alone by himself along time, 
 
 silenl as to his tongue, bul deliberating in his heart 
 
 how he Bhould proceed, and which religion he should adhere to." 
 
 II afterwards summoned a council of his " wise men " to con- 
 
 Bider the matter still farther. 
 
 14. Our forefathers were not indeed men to change their 
 
 ily and lightly. Though they were still ignorant and 
 
 they were thoughtful men. They did not care only foi 
 
 . and drink, and for such things as they could see and 
 
 handle; they reflected also on invisible things: on life, on the 
 
 Boul of man. on hi- feelings, and his nature. Their language is 
 
 d among all its brothers of the Teutonic speech for possessing 
 
 it than any of ihein — words about mind 
 
 and thought, emotions and affections. 
 
 i ad of their deliberations was that Edwin and all his 
 nobles embraced Christianity, and were baptized at York, a 
 
 it number of the common ] pie joining them; whilst the 
 
 chief of the heathen priests himself profaned the altars and 
 i the idols. 
 
 15. Edwin was now thi -t of all the kings in England ; 
 hi> kingdom extended as fat a irth as the Forth, and the capital 
 
 land, Edinburgh, is named alter him. It was, in his 
 
 lUTgh. He also made himself, in a certain 
 
 :,d head of the whole country. Be governed as a 
 
 1 hi king ought, '• It is reported," says Bede, " that there 
 
 ich perfect peace in Britain, wheresoever the dominion 
 
 l'.vm extended, th i now proverbially said, a 
 
 woman with her new-born babe might walk throughout the 
 
 d, from sea to Bea, without receiving any harm." 
 
 dwin's death the Northumbrians fell hack into 
 
 I had to l>e converted over again. This time the 
 
 I not some from Rome, bul from Ireland and 
 
 land. The Irish, who had been converted by St. Patrick, 
 
 were very vigorous and fervent Christians, They 
 
 ™ h sent zealous and holy men to preach the gospel in 
 
 bland, Friesland, Burgundy, Switzerland, even in 
 
 ■n will be found in ' Freeman's Old 
 • ":-*• M, J'p. 61, dec.
 
 vii ] THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 57 
 
 Italy. One of them, Columba, settled on the island of Iona, 
 west of Scotland, and founded a monastery there, from whence 
 came the missionaries to Northumberland. 
 
 Though the Irish are now devoted to the Pope, they were not 
 so then — they had some little differences of opinion ; as, for 
 instance, which was the right season for keeping Easter, and how 
 the priests' hair should be cut ; and it was disputed for some 
 time whether the Church of Northumberland should own allegi- 
 ance to Rome or Ireland. In the end it was decided that it 
 should adhere to Rome as the other English Churches did. 
 
 17. In about 100 years all the land became Christian. The 
 last kingdom to be converted (though lying so near to Kent, 
 which was the first) was Sussex. The Christian „ 
 missionaries, beside religion, taught the people many f Sussex. 
 useful ruts — they taught the Sussex men to fish! 
 
 '•The bishop," writes Bede, "when he came into the province, 
 and found so great misery from famine, taught them to get their 
 food by fishing, for their sea and river abounded in fish, but the 
 ile had no skill to take them, except eels alone. The 
 bishop's men, having gathered eel-nets everywhere, cast them 
 into tie- sea, and by tin- blessing of God took 300 fishes of 
 several sorts, which, being divided into three parts, they gave 
 l«"i \n the poor, 100 to those from whom they had the nets, and 
 kepi 100 for their own use. By ibis benefit the bishop gained 
 tie- affection of them all, and they began more readily at his 
 preaching to Imp.- for heavenly goods, seeing by his help they 
 liad received those which were temporal." 
 
 18. We must hope tie- lii>le>p and bis companions did not 
 feel, like tie- good and great Gregory, that by thns "entangling 
 himself in wovldly matters In- wasted his soul and decayed in 
 virtue." Their noble Christian ami human hearts, like Gregory's 
 own, wen- too Btrong for the feeble and selfish religion which 
 only can ive its own soul; they remembered the example, 
 of tie- Chri Ma ter, who never thought it beneath Him to 
 i ed the hungry and comfbrl the sorrowful 
 
 This same bishop, Wilfrid, received from the kingagrantof 
 
 land with "all the goods that were therein." Among these g ds 
 
 were 250 laves. All these he at once set al lib rty and baptized. 
 
 19. Other arts too sprang up under the shadow of Christianity! 
 People began to build Btone churches with pillars and aisles, and 
 even with gls 3 windows. As tie- English did not ye1 know how 
 to make glasn, they fetched men from France to do tin i pari oi 
 
 the work, and by di they learnt, the art themselves, though
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [leot. 
 
 my rare luxurj for a long time alter this. With 
 Christianity 1 same learning. The Etonian mission- 
 Education. ;1U ,. V i,,,,,,.,'^ Latin with them. Some time afterwards 
 the Pope also Benl Greek missionaries, who brought their own 
 fhese last, Theodore and Adrian, were both, Bede 
 "well read both in sacred and secular literature ; they 
 ,| of disciples, and there daily (lowed from them 
 i f knowledge towards the hearts of their hearers." They 
 tghl them oul of the Bible, but also gave them 
 I ins in astronomy, arithmetic, Greek, and Latin. "Nor were 
 thereover bappier times since the English came into Britain. . . . 
 The minds of all men were benl upon the joys of the heavenly 
 kingdom of which they had jusl beard, and all who desired to be 
 meted ii I reading had masters at hand to teach them." 
 •_''». We in iv imagine the delight it was to these wild people, 
 whowei r by nature, to gel instruction and learning; for 
 we know what splendid pleasure it is to ourselves to bo taught, 
 to have "tir minds strengthened and enlarged. It seems to us 
 when we get a wise teacher as if a uew world was opened to us. 
 • must have done to them. 
 •• In a Bingle century," says Stubbs, "England became known 
 bristendom as a fountain of light, as a land of learned men, 
 ut and unwearied missions, of strong, rich, and pious kings." 
 
 It v. is Archbishop Th lore who divided the country into 
 
 nd archbishoprics, which bave been very little changed 
 
 21 Now, t<"p, monasteries began to rise all over the land. 
 
 of immense importance for many centuries, it is 
 
 „ net arv we should know something about them; 
 
 Monasteries. - ... , ,, . .P , , . ,' 
 
 and we will observe at tins tune the good wliiui 
 
 they did, leavia i il for a later period, when they bad begun 
 
 The life and death of the historian Bede, from 
 
 whom bo much bae been quoted in this lecture, will show us the 
 
 of monastic life. In the monasteries a great deal of 
 
 work was done; it was not all fasting and meditation. 
 
 ider th<- times, the lighting and tumults which 
 
 still :i, the ignorance and barbarism, we shall see that in 
 
 tot only for religion, but for 
 
 . bii ning, and civilizal ion. 
 
 that he was born in the territory of the 
 
 x, which was on tl I of Durham, at the 
 
 mouth of the river Wear, lie was given, at the age 
 
 ...'■: ducated by the Abbot Benedict,
 
 vii] THE CONVERSION OF THE ENGLISH. 59 
 
 and, "spending all the remainder of my life in that monastery, 
 I wholly applied myself to the study of the Scriptures ; and 
 amidst the observation of regular discipline, and the daily care 
 of singing in the church, I always took delight in learning, 
 teaching, and writing." 
 
 23. We read this about the occupations of the monastery : 
 "The founder, like the rest of the brothers, delighted to exercise 
 himself in winnowing the corn and thrashing it, in giving milk 
 to the lambs and calves, in the hake-house, in the garden, in the 
 kitchen." These were all healthy, peaceful, and useful empky- 
 ments. But besides helping to attend to all this, Bede studied 
 i ligion and all the learning of the times. He knew Latin ami 
 Greek, and had read some at least of the old poets and philoso- 
 phers whom scholars love to read now. He knew as much as 
 could he known at that time of asttonomy, physical science, 
 arithmetic, grammar, and medicine. He was also very fond of 
 music, singing, and poetry. He taught all the other monks, and 
 many strangers, who came from all parts to learn of him, and he 
 wrote forty-five books. Most of these were sermons or explana- 
 tions of tin- Bible; but others win? hymns and poems, or on 
 scientific subjects. One was about spelling. But the one we 
 prize most is that from which so much lias been quoted here, 
 his 'Church History.' He was the first Ellglish historian. This 
 book was written in Latin (ami we shall see who first translated 
 it another time), but Bede loved his native tongue, ami the last 
 
 work he did was t'> t ran -late the Gospel of St. John into English- 
 Is not this a picture of a noble and a happy life? Now read 
 the story of his beautiful death, written by One of his pupils 
 who was with him to the end. He tells us that after the begin- 
 ning of hi-: last illness "he led his life cheerful and rejoicing, 
 giving thank- to Almighty God every day ami night, nay, every 
 hour, tin the day of our Lord's ascension." lie was labouring 
 bard to finish hi- translation of St. John, he dictating, while one 
 of his pupils wrote. ()n "the Tuesday before the ascension of 
 
 our Lord . . . 1c- passed all that day pleasantly, aid dictate,] now 
 
 and then, saying, '<;,. on quickly; 1 know not how long I shall 
 hold "lit, and whether my blaster will soon take me away.' " < >n 
 the Wednesday "he ordered that we should speedily write what 
 he bad begun, and this done, we walked till the third lean- with 
 there!. lints, according to the custom of that day, There 
 
 one 'A' us with him, who said to him, ' Mo t dear ma ti r, 
 there [a still one chapter wanting ; do you think it trouble oi 
 to I any more questions]' He answered, 'It is no
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [leot. 
 
 trouble. Take your pen, make ready, and write fast.' . . . Hav- 
 
 I much more, he passed the day joyfully till the evening, 
 
 mentioned boy Baid, 'Dear master, there is yet 
 
 one sentence no! written.' He answered, '"Write quickly.' 
 
 ft.T the boy said, 'The sentence is now written.' He 
 
 replied, 'Well, you have said the truth. It is ended.' Then 
 
 I, 'Glory be to the Father, and to the Son, and to 
 
 the Holy Gho When he had named the Holy Ghost lie 
 
 breathed his last, and bo departed to the heavenly 
 
 7J0. i • j ,, 
 
 Kingdom. 
 
 24. Some of the monasteries of this time seem to have been 
 
 led over by ladies. There was one very famous one, of 
 
 which the rains mv still to he seen at Whitby in 
 
 kshire, which was ruled by the Abbess Hilda. 
 
 She belonged to the royal family, and must have understood the 
 
 art ■ ■: . i iry well, for she trained up many clergymen, 
 
 and no less than five bishops. In her abbey dwelt Ctedmon, 
 
 the firs! English \ t, who made so many and such beautiful 
 
 verses on the Bible histories, that he was believed to have 
 " learnl the art of poetry, nol from men, but from God." 
 
 Thus wo see how the monasteries are like islands of harmony 
 and i in the midst of wild oceans of discord and strife.
 
 vii:.] THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH KINGDOMS. 61 
 
 LECTURE VIIL— THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH 
 
 KINGDOMS. 
 
 The kingdoms of the English. The " Bretwalda." Eghert. The Danes. 
 
 St. Edmund. 
 
 1. England was now beginning to have far more intercourse 
 with the rest of Europe than she had had for a long time. In 
 the fervour of their new conversion, the English began to send 
 missionaries to convert their heathen kinsfolk on the Continent; 
 and by means of them, their zeal and their learning, England 
 became well known and famous; for at that time our country 
 wai more learned and more religious than many of its neighbours. 
 
 2. It is now time, then, that we should inquire a little more 
 into tie- Btate of the- Continent, and how the great empire of the 
 Romans had fared during the centuries which had 
 ; 1 since they left Britain. It will be remem- The R ° mans 
 bered how the Teutonic or German races were fall- Teutons 
 ing npon it on all sides, settling themselves in Italy, 
 
 I, Spain, Africa, and Britain. By the beginning of the ninth 
 century the Teutons had lost some of these conquests. They had 
 entirely lost their African po . and had given way to the 
 
 Aral The Saracens had also established themselves 
 
 in Spain and in a part of France. 
 
 :;. But, "ii the ol her hand, the Teutons were growing stronger 
 
 and Btronger in other parts. There was a great tril r people 
 
 of Teutonic race called the Franks, who were now the chief 
 people in Germany and Gaul Their name means "free men." 
 in English the word "frank" still means open, unreserved, 
 handed, free hearted. As the Angles had changed the name, 
 of Britain into England, so the Franks changed that of Gaul 
 They ;ii their name to Franconia in * Ger- 
 
 many. lhe difference between the settlement of the Frank in 
 France and that of the English in England, is that the English 
 
 ild inhabitant », and brought in their own 1 
 and habits. The franks did no! de troy the people of Gaul, 
 settled in among them, and by di irnl their language,
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.f.ct. 
 
 whirli the Cauls before tins had learnt from the Romans. Tlie 
 
 French is oi f those languages which are called Romance, as 
 
 having been learnt from Rome, and being very much like the 
 I; ian or Latin speech. Bui a< the time of which we are now 
 . k i 1 1 _c the Franks still talked their own native German. 
 I. And now it was that, to show how completely the Germans 
 had conquered the Romans, the King of the Franks was made 
 Emperor of Ron This German emperor was 
 
 80 °- called Charles the Great, which was afterwards 
 
 "charST* translated into French as "Charlemagne." He 
 really deserved the name of "great," and we have 
 something to do with him in English history; fur he began to 
 take an interest in English affairs, and it was under him that 
 the first king of all the English was trained up. It seems that 
 he began to notice the English through the missionaries whom 
 Bent among the Franks. One of his dearest, friends was 
 an Englishman from York, named AJcuin, who had, perhaps, 
 , one of Bede's own pupils. AJcuin had a great love for 
 Charles, calling him " David" as a sign of affection, and went 
 to live in France, thai he mighl help him in many ways, espe- 
 cially in teaching the people. It shows how much the Franks 
 hind the English in learning, that he had to send to 
 ■ books for his Bchool. 
 5. Hi' the Germans on the Continent, as well as the 
 
 . - one in l-'.n land, hid I,.- -ii very much bn ken 
 up into small Btates or tribes, which was a great hindrance to their 
 li. Charles conquered some of these scattered 
 le alliances with others, bo a. to join them all into 
 , under hi- vernment. We know that afterwards the 
 
 1 nan empire broke up again, for we have seen in our own 
 
 how it has 1 n reunited, and there is an Kmperor of Ger- 
 
 : i (though he has nothing to do with Kome, as Charles 
 
 ■ 
 
 id the various kings and kingdoms had heen 
 
 uid struggling; now one being master, and now 
 
 ] »ugh we will not call our ancestors " kites and 
 
 Milton dLI, and though all this conflict was really the 
 
 ] • nation, yet we need not linger 
 
 it, or burden our memories with the details. The time was 
 
 when all the -mailer kingdoms would he gathered under 
 
 i i, and would thus become far more great and powerful, 
 
 -:ill more, would have the possibility of growth ami 
 
 : itneas. It had often been the case that one of the kings
 
 viii.] THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH KINGDOMS. 63 
 
 would gain a certain authority over some or all of the others, as 
 Edwin of Northumberland had done. When that was the case 
 he was called " Eretwalda." It is not quite certain what that 
 word meant, though some people believe that it meant " Wielder 
 of Britain." 
 
 7. At the time at which we have now arrived, Northumberland, 
 which had been so strong, learned, and civilized, had sunk down 
 again, and was weak and distracted. The most powerful kingdom 
 was Mercia, and Offa, the Mercian king, began to lord it over the 
 others. He set one of his sons in-law to be King of Northumber- 
 land, and another to be King of Wessex. In each of those coun- 
 tries another man claimed the throne ; both of these were 
 Obliged tu tly the country, and both took refuge with Charles the 
 Great. 
 
 8. One of these, the claimant of the throne of Wessex, was 
 Egbert, who afterwards gained that and a great deal more. It 
 has been mentioned that in the old heathen times 
 
 the kings were all BUpposed to be, descended from the E & bert - 
 god Woden. By this time, as they had been Christians so long, 
 they had altered their opinion about Woden. They now thought 
 of him as a man, but still he was believed to be the founder of 
 the royal family, and one of his descendants says of him, " He was 
 the king of many nat inns, whom some of the pagans still worship 
 as a god." Though they no Longer thought the royal family 
 sprang from a god, yet they still had a great reverence for it. 
 Now Egbert, besides being a very clever man, was the only living 
 descendant of Wodenj therefore Bertric, OfFa's son-in-law, was 
 very jealous of him. 
 
 [). " Sweet are the uses of adversity." Hail Egbert not been 
 
 banished from his country, had he been made king easily and at 
 
 one.', he would, perhaps, never have been the king he . 
 was. While living under the protection of Charles Hlstrauun &- 
 he learnt a great deal. |[ ( . watched him uniting the scattered 
 German tribes into one strong kingdom, and when he came homo 
 he I'.il'.v. ed i he example. 
 
 10. Bertric, thi upplanting King of Wessex, came to a melan- 
 choly end. Bis wife, the daughter of Offa, was a very wicked 
 woman, jealous of every one whom her husband loved. [f she 
 could not get rid of them openly he would give them poi on ; 
 and at last, when she was intending to poi on a young friend and 
 favourite of the king, by some mi take Bertric al o partook of 
 the cup, and so both pen bed I gether. After tliii the queen, 
 bed by every one, was oblij e I bo Leave the country, and sho
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 en1 bo the court of Charles, [t seems that he could not have 
 
 known much of her character or adventures, for he made her the 
 
 ;' a large convent of nuns, where, as might have been 
 
 1. she behaved very differently from the wise Abbess 
 
 Hilda Ai last her conduct became so disgraceful that she bad 
 
 to be expelled from her convent, and ended her wicked life very 
 
 : i ibly, begging her bread in the streets of Pavia, a city in 
 
 v. 
 
 11. Directly after Bertric's death Egbert returned to Wessex, 
 and was at once received by the people as their king. He bad 
 
 learnt patience in his exile. He spent twenty-five 
 
 800 . ire in strengthening his own kingdom of Wessex, 
 
 ^fVesser* a1 "' extending it towards the west by fighting and 
 
 subduing the Britons in Devonshire, Cornwall, and 
 
 1 1 had also done a great deal towards conquering the 
 
 Welsh, and in I we can see how much the Christian 
 
 non had d and improved the character of our fathers. 
 
 h had now • and exterminate their 
 
 . they did at first. When they ton-lit and conquered 
 
 - now, instead of killing or driving them away, tln-y 
 
 allowed them to dwell undisturbed in their own lands, us long 
 
 wonld obey the laws. 
 
 12. ■ been dead for some time, but his successor 
 in t: loin of M I growing power, resolved 
 
 tier light for tin- , . and invaded Wessex. 
 
 i him in one bat i le, and after his deal h 
 
 : Mercia al >o. Set Lag how powerful he 
 
 mailer kingdoms submitted to him without 
 
 Ity. There only remained Northumberland. Egbert 
 
 I that v. irmy, but it submitted without 
 
 kingofall the English. But we are 
 
 '. : ia is queen. The other 
 
 kin'.' loin- continued more or less distinct, with their 
 
 or princes j but these kings owed a sorl of 
 
 •Jjjw ' ' '"' y paid liu " tnl """< and jt ' 
 
 land. '''' Bummo Ip him in battle thi y 
 
 'I be Emperor of < iermany now has 
 
 loniH under him, a I '• ■ ria and Saxony : and so we, 
 
 I id nawabs under our government, 
 
 lience, but who still rule 
 
 or le a their own pi The rule of 
 
 this. England never fell to pieces again,
 
 viii.] THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH KINGDOMS. 65 
 
 as the Germany of Charles the Great did ; it continued, hence- 
 forth, to be one; but it was not till long afterwards that the 
 separate kingdoms were thoroughly and entirely united. 
 
 It was a very fortunate thing for England that it was a king of 
 Wessex who gained the supremacy rather than a king of Mercia 
 or Northumberland, for had the capital city of the country been 
 at York, or some quite inland place, instead of at London or 
 "Winchester, it wonld have cut us oil' far more from intercourse 
 with the rest of Europe. 
 
 14. One thing, which no doubt made it easier for Egbert to 
 unite all the country under himself, was trouble from without. 
 Hitherto, since the English tribes had first come to Britain, they 
 had been left pretty much to themselves, except by the mission- 
 aries. But now, as has been said, foreigners began again to take 
 an interest in England and English atl'airs. Some did good, as 
 Charles the I rreat, but others were terrible scourges. 
 
 15. These last were the Danes, as they are called. Eor the 
 next two <>r three hundred years our history is full of them. It 
 almost seems as if we were going hack 400 years, and 
 
 reading lii-tory ovcra^ain. Then we had a Christian 
 population slaughtered or driven away by heathen and barbarous 
 invaders from over the sea. Now we get just the same These 
 •• Danes" did not all come from Denmark, though, as most of 
 them did so, they were all called by that name. Many of them 
 came also from Norway and Friesland. It was from South Den? 
 mark and Eriesland, as we know, that the first Angles, Jutes, and 
 Saxons had come j BO these wen- in fact, their near illations. 
 The Norwegians were al a branch of the Teutons ; they all 
 spoke nearly the same language as the English; they had also 
 the same habits and tie- same religion which the English had 
 formerly had; they - 1 ill worshipped Woden and Thor. They 
 
 quite as worthy of the name of see wolves as our forefathers 
 had been. Here is an account of tin' firet visit the hams paid 
 
 to England, which gives a pleasant idea of them. " Whilst the 
 pious King Bertric" (this was Offa's son-in-law) "wasreigning 
 
 over the western parts of the English, and the innocent | pis 
 
 spread through their plains were enjoying themselves in tran- 
 quillity, and yoking their oxen to the plough, suddenly there 
 arrived on the en:, t a flee! of Danes, not large, but of three ships 
 only; this was their firsl arrival When this became known 
 the king's officer, who was already stopping in the town of Dor- 
 chester, leaped on his horse and galloped forwards with a few 
 men to the port, thinking that they were merchants rather than 
 
 F
 
 LECTURES "N ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 iea, and, commanding them in an authoritative tone, order* J 
 tiiim t" go to the royal city ; but he was slain on the spot by 
 tli. in, and all who were with him." 
 
 16. After this first visit they came again and again, and we 
 
 more to fancy massacres, ravages, burning villages, 
 burning churches, just as there bad been so long before. Only 
 the English now made a better defence than the poor Britons had 
 done, ami did not get exterminated nor driven off into the wild 
 ma On the other hand, they never could drive the 
 Danes quite away. Numbers of them settled down in the land, 
 and t"nk root there ; but as they Bpoke Dearly the same language, 
 
 and can t the Bame .-tuck, they soon mixed with the English 
 
 and 1m. aine one with them. But we have nut got so far as tins 
 ; ii was >t ill hard fighting for many years to come. 
 
 17. After] i death his son Ethehvnlf In-came king. He 
 
 father had been, the principal king or over-lord of 
 England, with under-kings in different parts. He 
 
 and his na< ^ ""' a " '' :i "- v ''""' u * ^' He AVas beset on both 
 
 sons. side-. The Danes emu.' up the Thames; they spent 
 
 a whole winter in the [sle of Sheppey ; they brought 
 
 • army and 350 ships to the mouth of the Thames, 
 
 d the city of Canterbury and the city of London, and 
 
 put bt an army which came from ]\Iurcia to oppose 
 
 tli.-m. < in the western side it was almost worse. The Danes 
 
 mad.- friend.-, with the Bl'itons, who were living in Devonshire, 
 
 und tie at deal of fighting and misery there 
 
 858 fthw. Al last, however, the Danes got the worst of 
 
 it, for the time, and went away lor eight years, during 
 
 which time Ethel wulf died in peace, having four sons, who 
 
 ■ all kings in turn. To Bhow, however, what misgivings he 
 
 the future, we will read one little extract from the 
 
 ■ : his will. "For the hen,- tit of his soul, which he 
 
 to pn. in.. i.- in all things from the first flower of his 
 
 through all his hereditary dominions that one 
 
 in in ten, eiih.-r native or foreigner, should he supplied 
 
 Irink, and clothing by his successors until the Day 
 
 of Judgment; supposing, however, tliat the country should still 
 
 i l>n in-, i and cattle, and should nut becume de- 
 
 The three elder of his sons were Ethelbald, Ethelbert, 
 
 and Ethelred. Many oi tie- name, of our ancestors had inter- 
 
 meani .. means " Bright-eye." Ethel means 
 
 , ' and waa a very favourite beginning for a name.
 
 viii.] THE UNITING OF THE ENGLISH KINGDOMS. 67 
 
 Ethel wulf was "The noble wolf." 
 Ethelbald „ " iS T oble and bold." 
 Ethelbert „ " Noble and bright." 
 Ethelred „ " Noble in counsel." 
 The noblest of all, however, was not named Ethel, but Alfred 
 or iElf red, which means an elf or fairy in counsel. " Red " meant 
 " counsel " or wisdom ; and we shall hear of another Ethelred in 
 due time, who did not at all deserve so grand a name. 
 
 19. The three Ethels had very short and troubled reigns. 
 The Danes came back, and the fights began again. The Danes 
 grew stronger and stronger. They seized on much of the eastern 
 
 .part of England, and settled down there. There was 
 at this time an under-king in East Anglia named Edmund. 
 Edmund. One of the old writers of this period, 
 Asser. of whom we shall soon hear more, tells us of him : " In 
 the year 85G Humbert, Bishop of the East Angles, anointed 
 with oil and consecrated as king the glorious Edmund, with 
 much rejoicing and great honour, in the royal town called Burva 
 on a Christmas Day." How he came to be so glorious and so 
 beloved In- dms not tell ns (he was only fifteen then, but the 
 glory ami the love came afterwards); we will, however, read 
 what Carlyle .-ays about him. Asking in what way Edmund 
 to such favour and won such affection, he answers himself, 
 "Keally, except it were by doing justly and Loving mercy to an 
 unprecedented extent, one does uot know. The man, it would 
 seem, had walked, as they say, humbly with God, humbly and 
 valiantly with God, —struggling to make the earth heavenly as 
 he could; instead of walking sumptuously and pridefully with 
 mammon, leaving the earth to grow hellish as it liked." 
 
 20. Wh.'ii the Dane invaded Ea I Anglia, Edmund was taken 
 
 i thi : 'i . goe j and led before the heathen chiefs. 
 They offered him his life and Liberty if he would give up Chris- 
 tianity and reign under them. He refused. "Cannot we kill 
 you? cried they. Cannol 1 diel answered he." Sotheybound 
 him to a tree and shot him to death with arrows. 
 
 21. "Edmund was seen and felt by all men to have done 
 verily a man's part in this Life's pilgrimage of hi . and benedic- 
 tions and outflowing love and admiration from the anivet I 
 
 heart were his meed. Well d< ! well done! cried the hearts 
 
 of all men. They raised his shun and martyred body, wa hed 
 
 wounds with fast-flowing universal tears tears of endless 
 pity, and yet of a Bacred joy and triumph. ■ . Ln this manner 
 did the men of the a counties take up the i Lain body of 
 
 F 2
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leoj 
 
 Inmnd, whore it lay casl forth in the village of Hoxne, 
 . dut the severed bead, and reverently re-unite the same. 
 Thoy embalmed him with myrrh and Bweet spices, with love, 
 ■ . and all high and awful thoughts." 
 
 •_'_'. Afterwards this Edmund, who seems to have been about 
 
 thirty j I when he died, was "canonized" or proclaimed 
 
 nt, and a greal abbey called St. Edmund's Bury, or Bury 
 
 Edmund's, was buill over his grave, where the ruins of it 
 
 may be Been to this day in that town of Suffolk. 
 
 Thus the huh'- got possession of East Anglia. They 
 
 burned down the wealthy abbeys ol Peterborough, Ely, and 
 
 . and killed or drove away the monks. After a time, 
 
 however, those abl again, ami two of our finest cathedrals 
 
 at Peterborough and Ely.
 
 [X. 
 
 ALFRED. 69 
 
 LECTURE IX.— ALFRED. 
 
 King Alfred. His education. His wars with the Danes. The treaty of 
 Wedmore. The time of peace. Alfred's work iu law, justice, religion, 
 and education. His books. 
 
 1. The last lecture left England in a very pitiable condition, 
 ravaged and plundered by the Danish heathen. We heard of 
 Ethelwuli's four sons, who were all kings in turn. 
 The youngest and the greatest of them was Alfred, 
 who has left such a beloved and glorious name behind him, and 
 who was, perhaps, the best and wisest king England ever had. 
 We must pass hastily over his three elder brothers, that we may 
 • more time for Alfred, " England's darling," as tho people 
 loved to call him, even centuries after his death. 
 
 2. Our knowledge of Alfred's life is mainly derived from four 
 sources. The firsl and principal authority is a Welsh clergyman, 
 As*.er, whose work has been already quoted; it was 
 in it that Ethelwulf's will was described. It has been 
 
 1 already that the Welsh (or Britons) preserved a love of 
 learning even after the English had persecuted and driven them 
 away far west ; 80 that BOUie of our old histories, an 1 many old 
 poems, were written by them. This Asser, who seems to have 
 been a good and clever man, was a great friend of Alfred, 
 and wrote his life, which is very interesting, because be tells us 
 many little things that be heard and saw himself, and makes us 
 feel a if we knew and Loved his king and friend as much as he 
 did. Tim. life he wrote lias not been all preserved, and of what 
 we have, part seems to have been added by some other writer 
 at a later time, but a greai deal of it is genuine, and very pithy 
 and quaint, as well as he u ty. 
 
 :;. Be idea A er, wo have a 'Chronicle' by a man who was 
 ndi d from the royal family, and who wrote a Bhort history 
 of England for the instruction of a cousin Matilda of his in Ger- 
 many. II' Ethelred, the third son of Ethelwulf, was bis 
 grandfather 1 Ifathtr, and that Alfred indfather to 
 Matilda's grandfather. He seems to have had a misgiving that
 
 TO LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect- 
 
 she would find his book rather dry(which it must be confessed it 
 
 really is), and makes an apology for it, saying, "Although I may 
 
 wen to send you a load of reading, dearest sister of my desire, do 
 
 udge me harshly, bul as my writings were in love to you, so 
 
 i read them." And so will we also read ;i little of them. 
 
 •1. Again, and principally, as far as Alfred's wars are concerned, 
 
 we have the first and oldest true history of England, written by 
 
 1 lishmen, which i* commonly called, 'The Anglo-Saxon 
 
 I inicle,' and will be referred to again later on. 
 
 5. Lastly, we have his own words, which show forth his noble 
 character better than any one's words about him can do, and of 
 which a few Bhall be quoted. 
 
 6. Both Asser and the Anglo-Saxon chronicler give us his 
 whole pedigree. < »f course he was descended (as all the English 
 kings were supposed to be) from "Woden ; and as they now look 
 upon Woden as a man, thrv also tell us who his father and grand- 
 father were, and so hack and hack to " Sceaf, who was born in 
 
 /- ark," and thence to Noah and Adam as in Genesis, ending 
 with "our Father, that is Christ." Thus we see that they did 
 give up the idea of the Divine descent of man. 
 
 7. I: need hardly be said that this pedigree is not at all to be 
 trusted. But Asser tells us what is more to the purpose, that 
 Alfred had a very good mother, " a religions woman, noble both 
 
 birth and nadir. ." 
 
 8. Ah] ' every one has heard the pretty story of the begin- 
 ning of Alfred's education. Unfortunately, some learned men 
 
 ... now say the Btory is not and cannot be true, but as 
 
 Education. , J . , ,. . , . . ' 
 
 others give reasons for believing it which sound very 
 
 will tal ser tells it, He first describes how- 
 
 Alfred mely, more graceful, and more beloved by his 
 
 , oid by all the people than any of his brothers, and that 
 
 "his noble nature implanted in him from his cradle a love of 
 ill things," and by and bye tells how his mother 
 him. "On a certain day his mother was showing him 
 and his brothel n (or English) book of poetry, which she 
 
 . in her hand, and -.id. ' Whichever of you shall the soonest, 
 volume shall have it for his own.' Stimulated by 
 I : rather by the Divine inspiration, and allured by 
 
 itifully-illuminated Letter at the beginning of the volume, 
 poke before all his brothers, who, though his seniors in age, 
 
 wered, ' Will you really give that 
 
 that is to say. to him who can first understand 
 
 ■ it to you V At this his mother smiled with satisfac-
 
 IX. j 
 
 ALFRED. 71 
 
 tion, and confirmed what she had before said. Upon which the 
 hoy took the book out of her hand, and went to his master to read 
 it, and in due time brought it to his mother and recited it." 
 
 9. This seems to have been when Alfred was about four years 
 old. We are not to suppose the child learned to read, but to 
 repeat the poems ; for it appears that he did not learn to read till 
 after he was twelve years old. But he had, from that time, all 
 through his life a passionate love of learning, and persevered 
 in it through troubles and difficulties such as we can hardly 
 imagine. 
 
 10. Alfred, while he was still a child, was twice at Tiome. Tho 
 Pope made much of him, and anointed him future King of Eng- 
 
 "la'nd. He travelled through France, over the Alps, 
 and through Northern Italy, and so he saw a great ^^ e t0 
 deal of the beauty of the world. It is to be feared 
 he would not admire the Alps much, for in those days, and long 
 after, people thought of mountains as horrible and savage places, 
 only tit for wild beasts or hermits. But no doubt he was struck 
 by the splendour of Rome, and the other Italian cities, so differ- 
 ent from the rude and unbeautiful cities of England, as they were 
 then. Rome wa> still the capital of the world. Many of tho 
 fine buildings which are now in ruins, and which we so often seo 
 in photographs, were, nodoubt, still in good preservation. There, 
 too, he sa w tbemosi Learned, polite, and religious men then living. 
 All this would make a great impression on the young and clever 
 child, and we may be sure be never forgot it. 
 
 When we have oi seen what, we feel to be really good, 
 
 died, and beautiful, it gives us something to aim at and to 
 fcrive after. We shall Bee that he was aiming ami striving all his 
 life long ; that was what, made him so noble. 
 
 11. On bis second visit to Rome he stayed there with his 
 father a whole year. It seems strange that he did not learn to 
 read, as there was a school at Rome on purpose for the English 
 or Anglo-Saxons, to which King Ethelwulf made many handsome 
 pre lit .' Rut in those days it, was not thought needful Eoc 
 kings, noblemen, or gentlemen to know how to read. That was 
 left for the pi it clergymen. Kings used to make then- mark, 
 just as the rnosl utterly ignorant people do now, and as, it. is to 
 be supposed, in another fifty years no one will do. The young 
 princes and nobles were, taught hunting, wrestling, and the like ; 
 
 and they were also accustomed to hear songs and | ms in their 
 
 own language. Songs about war and heroes, kings and queens, 
 
 the sea and the Sea kings, dwarf- and giants and dragon-, 1 eaUtif ul
 
 :■.' LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [uect. 
 
 Ladies and their lovers Alfred dearly loved these old poems and 
 ball 
 
 r_'. Meanwhile the fighting went on. All through hia child- 
 
 . and youth he must have been constantly hearing about the 
 
 " pagans." I cannot attempt to give a history of all 
 
 Ravages of j],,..,. wars, but this i> a Bpecimeu, out of the chron- 
 
 icle oi Ltnelwera. 
 
 '• 865. At't.T four years from the death of King Ethelbald, the 
 
 ugthened their position in the [ale of Thanet, and 
 
 to be ;it peace with the men <d Kent, who on their part 
 
 prepare money, ignorant of the future. Buc the Dunes break 
 
 compact, and, sallying out privately by night, lay waste all 
 
 tin- eastern coast of Kent 
 
 "868. After one year thai army, leaving the eastern parts, 
 ed tin' river Humber into Northumberland, to tint city of 
 
 1. (York) After Bonie delay they (tin-, inhabitants) 
 
 turned their thoughts t<» raise an army ami repulse those who 
 
 • advancing. They collected together no small bodies of 
 
 troop* ami reconnoitred tin- enemy ; their rage was excited, they 
 
 joint '1 battle, a miserable slaughter took place on both sides, and 
 
 the k sin's w< re shin 
 
 "871. After one year, therefore, the army of the barbarians 
 
 it for Reading, and the principal objeel of the impious crew 
 
 k the Vi ...ii,,. . . . An in.lese.i ibal »le battle is 
 
 : . ii..-.\ these, uow those, urge on the fight with spears 
 
 immovable . . . The barbarians at last triumph. . . . Four 
 
 aftei King Ethelred with his brother Alfred fought again 
 
 with all the army of the Danes at CEscesdune, and there was 
 
 bter mi both but at last King Ethelred 
 
 dned the victory." 
 
 I Q esdune, or Aston, " the Hill or Down 
 
 of t . remarkable, as it throws great light on Alfred's 
 
 character, his i . and his good sense. Asser 
 
 Aslon _ description of it, "The pagans had 
 
 divided themselves into two bodies, and began to 
 
 defences; for they had two kings, and many earls, so 
 
 they ie mid. He part of the army to the two kings, ami the 
 
 : part to all their earls. Which the Christians perceiving, 
 
 divide. 1 their army also into two troops, and also began to COn- 
 
 But Alfred (as we have been told by those 
 
 who were present, and would not tell an untruth) marched tip 
 
 aptly with 1. Lve them battle; for King Ethelred 
 
 I a long time in hi.-, tent in prayer, heaiing the mass, and
 
 IX.] ALFRED. 73 
 
 said that he would not leave it till the priest had done, or 
 abandon the Divine protection for that of men. And he did so 
 too, which afterwards availed him much with the Almighty, as 
 we shall declare more fully in the sequel. . . . Now the Christians 
 had determined that King Ethelred with his men should attack 
 the two pagan kings ; but that his brother Alfred, with his 
 troops, should take the chance of war against the earls. Things 
 being so arranged, the king remained a long time in prayer, and 
 iln: pagans came up rapidly to fight. Then Alfred, though 
 possessing subordinate authority, could no longer support the 
 troops of the enemy, unless he retreated or charged upon them, 
 without waiting for his brother. At length he bravely led his 
 fcfoops against the hostile army, as they had before arranged, but 
 Without awaiting his brother's arrival. . . . And when both 
 armies had fought long and bravely, at last the pagans, by the 
 Divine judgment, were no longer able to bear the attacks of the 
 Christians, and, having lost the greater part of their army, took 
 to a disgraceful flight. One of their two kings and live earls were 
 there Bhtin, together with many thousand pagans, who fell on all 
 Bides, covering with their hodies the whole plain of Ashdnne." 
 11. Asser seems inclined to praise Ethelred for remaining so 
 long at bis prayers J but had Alfred done tin; same, the battle 
 would have ended very differently. I do not believe there was 
 ever a more truly religious man in the world than 
 Alfred ; hut he knew when he could serve God better (.^ai-acter. 
 by working than by praying. And this he kept in view 
 ail through his life. He loved prayer and reading tin; Bible as 
 well as any saint, hut, he loved work and toil for his people too. 
 His life and Ids mind were what we call welbhalanred. And 
 
 s'ill more, he had one of those large, wide, sympathetic minds 
 
 which can be keen and interested in many different ways, and 
 
 on many different subjects. When there was lighting to be done, 
 : howed himself a brave soldier and a clever commander ; hut 
 when there was no fighting, he was equally ready as a law-giver, 
 as a governor, and as a judge, He was like Bede in loving 
 learning and teaching, lie loved music, poetry, and books, 
 hunting, hawking, and building, lie Loved clever men and 
 
 their company ; he loved his wife and children. In fact, what 
 
 I thing was there thai he did noi love | And all the. e thing i 
 he carried out, in spit.' of constant id health and dreadful 
 Buffering. 
 
 l."i. IP- married when he was quite young, only nineteen yen, 
 old. We know little about his wife, except that the two we.ru
 
 74 LECTURES ON BNGLlSB HISTORY [rto* 
 
 dently very happy together, and had a large and 
 
 Mamn^o. W( ,]p|, ,,„',.,],, n]) family. We may judge how loving 
 
 and Faithful Bhe waa by the way Alfred himself writes in one of 
 
 I ks aboul the value of an affectionate wife. This is sup- 
 
 ; i to be written for the consolation of a husband who is in 
 
 ble and separated from hiswife, and was partly a translation 
 
 , an older writer, to which Alfred added some thoughts of 
 
 his own. "Sin- h exceedingly prudent, and very modest ; she 
 
 Ued all other women in purity. . . . She lives now for 
 
 done. Bence she loves nought else but thee. She 
 
 iugh of every ;_ r 1 in this present life, but she has 
 
 ised it all for thee. She has shunned it all, because she has 
 
 not thee also. This one thing is now wanting to her; thine 
 
 nee makes her think that all which she possesses is nothing." 
 
 He would not have been likely to write in that way had not 
 
 his own wife been very true and affectionate. 
 
 16. In v 7l. — n after the battle of Aston, Ethelred died, 
 ing two young sons. But in such troublous times no ono 
 
 thniijit of making an infant king. No one thought 
 
 ' of any king but Alfred, who was already so well 
 
 becomes king. known, admired, and trusted. According to the old 
 
 English fashion, the most worthy member of the 
 
 1 king. We do not hear of any holidays, 
 
 • •r ]-. :'. ; :i_', or coronation ceremonies on his accession. It 
 
 in indeed no time for rejoicing. Almost as soon as his 
 
 laid in the '.'rave he had to march against the enemy, 
 
 • Reading. 
 
 17. we hear of them in all parts of the country — in 
 rehire, in Lincolnshire, at Xork, on the Tyne, at Exeter, at 
 
 ham. and in London. They did not come and go now. 
 
 ok up winter quarters in different places, and then in the 
 
 ..i ivaging. 
 
 1". Though ' had mad" himself king and lord of all 
 
 nd, Alfred, his grandson, had now hard work to 
 
 n of Wessex ; but he maintained himself, and 
 
 it hay for -> ven . both by sea and land. 
 
 19. ' ■' that after the Angles and Saxons, who 
 
 Boch brave Bailors and "sea-wolves," had gol possession of 
 
 "d ti i for a long time to have lost their love of the 
 
 Th ng, and turned rather into farmers ; and 
 
 ed more excitement they fought one another. Alfred 
 
 ho though! hing a navy; he was the 
 
 glory of England, that she rules the waves.
 
 ix. J ALFRED. 75 
 
 The fact was, there was no coping with the Danes without a 
 fleet. Xo matter how many were killed, there were always fresh 
 crowds and hordes of them coming from over the sea. " If in 
 one day thousands of them were slain, on the next a double 
 number were ready to fight again." Alfred determined to cut off 
 the supplies. He devised better and larger ships ; 
 he manned them with the boldest sailors he could p 
 
 find, and set them to watch the Channel, so that no fresh troops 
 or provisions should be landed. Once they had a great victory. 
 A storm and a fog beset the Danes ; Alfred's fleet came boldly 
 forward, " their bands were discomfited in a moment, and all were 
 sunk and drowned in the sea, at a place called Swane-wic," or, as 
 we now call it, Swanage, on the rocky coast of Dorsetshire. 
 
 20. Still the Danes pushed on. At the end of seven years 
 things looked worse than ever, and the people began to lose 
 courage. Many of the monasteries had been burned; D . . 
 the bishops and monks wandered about the country 
 with their precious relics, the bones of the saints and the sacred 
 els, which they had rescued, and were thankful when they 
 could take refuge beyond the sea ; whilst the heathen offered up 
 sacrifices to ThoT and Woden in the Christian churches. 
 
 '1 1 . The people weie reduced to the condition of servants or 
 beggars; disorder and misery were every where. Alfred, with no 
 arm v Left, and only a few friends and his faithful wife, had to 
 hide away in a miserable marsh, waiting for better times. 
 
 22. Had he been a weak man now all would have been lost. 
 Many another man would have given in — would perhaps have 
 gone ( ,ti' t«> Rome a- a pious pilgrim (as some of the feebler kings 
 had done), aiel ended his days in quiet. But Alfred was not, 
 one of that sort. He still trusted in < lod, ami hided his time. 
 
 23. It was while he was hiding here that the story of the 
 
 cakes happened, if it ever happened at all, and the prettier 
 
 story of St, ( 'ut illicit. The tale is, that the king was sitting 
 ill his hut, while his followers went, to lish in a neighbouring 
 stream. lie was reduced to great straits, for he hail but 
 one loaf of bread left, and a small measure of wine. lie was 
 
 full of anxious thoughts, and was trying to comfort hin. elf 
 by reading the I' alms of I 'avid, when a poor man came begging 
 
 to the door. Alfred received lie poor beggar OS Lf he had been 
 
 the Saviour Himself, and shared bis little store of bread and 
 
 wine with him. "The guest suddenly vanished, the bread was 
 unbroken, the pitcher full of wine to the brim. Soon after the 
 fishermen returned Erom the river, laden with a rich booty. In
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [u-x-t. 
 
 the following night St. Cuthbert appeared to him in a dream, 
 
 aud announced that his sufferings were about to end, ami gave 
 
 him all particulars of time and place. The king rose early in 
 
 the morning, crossed over to the mainland inaboat, and blew 
 
 his horn three times, the sound inspiring his friends 
 
 with courage, and carrying terroT to the hearts of his 
 
 mies. By noon 500 gallant warriors gathered round him, he 
 
 acquainted them with the commands of God, and led them on 
 
 ictory." * 
 
 24. In those days everybody was ready to expect and believe 
 in miracles Alfred himself as much as any one. But something 
 
 this kind may have really happe 1, and been a little em- 
 
 bellished afterwards ; it is, at any rate, unite true that alter 
 that dreary winter the turn ing-pi tint came. In the spring the 
 and his followers left their huts and hiding-places \ they 
 built >ng fort in the midst of the marshes, on a place 
 
 which was then an island, though that district, has since been 
 drained and turned into dry land. He unfurled his rival 
 
 banner, the \ pie gathered joyfully around him, and hope 
 
 d to revive. 
 
 25. As soon as he had collected an army large and strong 
 enough, he marched against the camp of the Danes in Wiltshire. 
 They had a great fight at a place called Ethandune (Eddington), 
 
 and the English gained a complete victory Those 
 
 of the Danes who were nol killed in the battle took 
 
 in a fortress or fortified camp at Chippenham, and 
 
 fourteen days ifter, subdued by hunger, cold, and misery, they 
 
 submitted. 
 
 - merciful ; he Bhowed himself a true Christian 
 
 The Danish leader, Guthrura, made known that he 
 
 wis) Christian. Alfred rejoiced; and became his god- 
 
 jave I * i iii the new nam.' oi Ethelstane at his baptism, 
 
 and then they made a peace, known as the treaty of Wedmon. 
 
 Alfred '-,,111,1 not h >pe to do more than free his own 
 
 . of Wessex, with part of the old Mercia, from the 
 
 I dn ■■■ a boundary line from the mouth of the 
 
 roe of the river Lea, and along the Ouse to 
 
 ! road which the Romans had made. All 
 
 • t line the Dam were allowed to keep ; their chiefs 
 
 or under kings to Alfred ; bo that he was, 
 
 K of England, though his real authority was 
 
 nd the boundary line. 
 
 I AUli'8 ' Life of Alfred.'
 
 ix.] ALFRED. 77 
 
 27. The Danes now settled down beyond that line among the 
 English, especially in East Anglia and Northumberland. It 
 was agreed that those who would not become Chris- Settlement 
 turns should depart out of the country. As they of the 
 already Bpoke pretty nearly the same language and Danes, 
 were of the same stock as the English, when they became of 
 the same religion also they seem to have agreed together very 
 fairly, and by degrees they intermarried and became one people. 
 These Dunes then were never driven away ; their descendants 
 are living there still, and are as much Englishmen now as we 
 are. We can often tell which were the settlements of the Danes 
 by the names of places, especially names ending in "by," which 
 was their word for " town." In the parts of England where the 
 1 tanes lived we find numbers of places whose names end in " by," 
 as Derby, Whitby, Enderby ; but in the other parts, where the 
 English lived, we tind hardly any. 
 
 28. But now that peace was restored, and the Danes driven 
 
 out of his domains, it remained to be seen whether Alfred was as 
 
 good a ruler as he was a soldier. How did he govern his 
 
 country f We may imagine when the last of the Danes was 
 
 fairly gone, and he could lay his sword aside, that he looked 
 
 around upon the find. What did he seel The 
 
 towns, even Loudon itself, pillaged, ruined, or burnt stateofthe 
 i ,i i.i.i ■, , country. 
 
 down ; the monasteries destroyed ; the people wild 
 
 and Lawless ; ignorance, roughness, insecurity everywhere. It is 
 
 almost incredible with what, a brave heart he set himself to 
 
 repair all this; how his great and noble aims were still before 
 
 him ; how haul he strove, and how much he achieved. 
 
 29. First of all he .seems to have sought for helpers. Like 
 most clever men, he was good at reading characters. 1 Le soon saw 
 who would be true, brave, wise, friends, and he collected these 
 around him. Some of them he fetched from over the sea, from 
 France and Germany; our friend Aeser from Wales, or, as ho 
 • alls his country, "Western Britain," while England he calls 
 
 " Saxony." He says he first saw Alfred " in a royal vill, which 
 
 i called Dene "in Sussex. ♦ ' 1 1 ( • received me with kindness, 
 and asked me eagerly to devote myself to his service, and become 
 friend ; to leave everything which I posi-essed on the left* or 
 wc^tein bank of the Severn, and promised that he would give 
 more than an equivalent for it in his own dominions. I replied 
 that 1 could not rashly and incautiously pr ise such things; 
 
 for it seemed to be unjust that 1 should leave those sacred 
 
 * Sic.
 
 7> LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lkot. 
 
 places in whi.h 1 had been bred, educated, crowned,* and 
 ordained for the sake of any earthly honour and power, unless 
 upon compulsion. Upon this he said, 'If you cannot accede 
 to this, at Least let me have your Bervice in part; spend six 
 months of the year with me here, and the other six months in 
 Britain.'" And to this after a time Ajsser consented. 
 
 30. What were the principal things he turned his mind to 
 after providing for the defence of his kingdom, and collecting 
 his friends and counsellors about himl 
 
 Law justice— religion — educal ion. 
 
 31. He collected and .studied the old laws of his nation; 
 what he thought good he kept, what he disapproved he left out. 
 
 He added others, especially the ten commandments 
 and BOme other parts of the law of Moses. Then 
 
 he laid them all before bis Witan, or wise men, and with their 
 
 approval published them. 
 
 32. It is all very well to have good laws, hut if there is no 
 one • thai they are obeyed they are of no great use. Some 
 
 of the worst - governed nations in the world pro- 
 bably have good laws on paper, hut if their 
 judges, lawyers, and magistrates are bad and wicked, or ignorant 
 and money-loving, the laws only stop on the paper, and never 
 into the Lives of men. The state of justice in England 
 dreadful at this time. The judges were either ignorant or 
 unju.-t. and wlnii B was brought before them they decided 
 
 so unfairly that no one was satisfied. Sometimes they were 
 afraid of a powerful man, and if he had done wrong, or op- 
 his neighbours, they did uol dare to pronounce against 
 him. Sometimes they would allow a rich man to give them 
 bribes to take his part. Sometimes they were too ignorant or 
 id to know anything about the laws, or to understand the 
 which wen- brought before them. Thus the poor got 
 i on, and tin: rich and strong were encouraged in wrong- 
 Dg. 
 
 of curing this was by inquiring into all 
 
 illy could, himself; and Aeser says he did 
 
 ike of the poor, to whose interest, day 
 
 ..'. he evei we wonderfully attentive; for in the whole 
 
 kingdom the p him, had few or no protectors." And 
 
 , and cleai leaded, and just, that all the people of 
 
 La . . ngi i to have tie laid before him, except those 
 
 baren on the crown of the head, as all priests were in those 
 di.-
 
 ix.] ALFRED. ? 9 
 
 who knew they were in the wrong, and knew, too, that they could 
 not bribe or frighten the king. When he found that the judges 
 had made mistakes through ignorance, be rebuked them, and told 
 them they must either grow wiser or give up their posts ; and 
 soon the old earls and other judges, who had been unlearned 
 from their cradles, began to study diligently ; and if, as was most 
 often the case, they could not read themselves, they would get 
 their sons, or even servants, to read to them, " while they 
 lamented with deep sighs in their inmost hearts that in their 
 youth they had never attended to such studies." 
 
 34. Alfred would be proud of his country now if he knew 
 the perfect justice, honour, and impartiality of our judges, and 
 that the poorest man in the land is as sure of safety, protection, 
 and right ;is the richest and mightiest. 
 
 35. For reviving and spreading religion among his people he 
 
 used the- best means that he knew of; that is, he founded new 
 
 monasteries and restored old ones, and did his ut- „ .. . 
 
 , , . , •, , -r-< i • xiengion. 
 
 most to get good bishops and clergymen. I 1 or Ins 
 
 own part, he strove to practise in all ways what he taught to 
 others. Asser -ays that from his infancy he was " a frequenter of 
 holy places, for prayer and almsgiving, and that, whether in pros- 
 perity or adversity, he never neglected holy meditation." But 
 his religion went farther than this ; it was a spirit that pervaded 
 all he did and all he had. ][>■ made a resolution to give to God 
 the half of his services, bodily and menial, the half of his time, 
 and the half of In- money. But the remaining half he so 
 wisely bestowed, in teaching, training, and benefitting his people, 
 and in snowing kindness, too, to strangers and foreigners who 
 needed it, — in doing God's work, both of justice and mercy, — 
 that we may lather Bay he gave all to God. He, who was so 
 fond of reading the Psalms, might have written the 101st 
 Psalm himself, as a picture of his own life. 
 
 " I will walk within my house with a perfect heart. 
 
 I will not know a wicki '1 pi i son. 
 
 Whoso privily tlanderetfa oil neighbour, him will 1 cut oir. 
 
 Mine eyes shall be upon the faithful of the land, that they may 
 
 dwell n i'h mi : 
 He thai walketfa in a perfect way, he shall serve me. 
 He that worketh deceit shall not dwell within my house: 
 He that t< Ueth lies shall not tarry in my ^ i l' I > t . 
 J will early destroy .'ill the wicked of the land ; 
 That 1 may cut off all wicked doers from the eity of the Lorl"
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 36 Be did none of these things carelessly, but whatever he 
 p U 1 his hand to, he did it "with all his might." Giving alms, 
 for instance, as aw know, it' it is practised in an easy, thoughtless 
 likely to do more harm than -end. Alfred took pains 
 that' hi- alms .should be "bestowed discreetly." He had read 
 this quainl old Baying of Pope Gregory, "(live not much to 
 whom you should give little, nor little to whom much, nor some- 
 thin- to whom nothing, nor nothing to whom something," and 
 he mad.' that his rule. 
 
 37. Education was in a still worse condition than everything 
 We heard before that it was only the clergy who were 
 supposed to have any book-learning, but in all the 
 Education. (l ,, u i,i,. s that had come it seems as if it was not 
 pected even of them. All the schools had heen broken up. 
 Alfred Bays thai when he began to reign there -were very few 
 clergymen south of the Humber who could even understand the 
 Prayer-book. (That was still in Latin, as the Roman mission- 
 aries had brought it.) And south of ihe Thames he could not 
 member one. His first care was to get better-educated clergy 
 and bishops. 
 
 And mxt to gel the laymen taught also. This he did in 
 two ways. In our days, if a wise man went to a very ignorant 
 place, and wanted to improve the people, he would open a school 
 and gel the best teachers he could find. So did Alfred. He 
 founded monasteries and schools, and restored the old oneswdiich 
 bad been ruined. Be bad a school in his court for his own 
 children and the children of his nobles. 
 
 i Bui at tie' very outset a i nous difficulty confronted 
 
 Ifred. When- was he to get hooks < At this time, as far as we 
 
 can judge, there '-an only have, heen one, or at most 
 
 ■ books in the English language— the long poem 
 
 of ('.Minion about the cieation o| the world, &C, and the, poem 
 
 B wulf about warriors and fiery dragons. There were many 
 
 and songs, hut whether these were written down 
 
 I do not know. 
 
 10. There was no book of history, not even English history; 
 
 „,k of geography, no religious hooks, no philosophy. Bede, 
 
 who had written bo many books, had written them all in Latin. 
 
 (We may hope his English translation of St. John was still in 
 
 '•. though i' is losl now.) 
 
 41. Alfred had by this time, with a great deal of trouble, 
 
 '.t Latin, ami he knew that there were plenty of good books 
 
 in that language which might he translated into English. Here
 
 rx.] ALFRED. 81 
 
 is part of a letter which he wrote to a friend of his, a bishop, 
 on this subject. 
 
 "I wondered greatly that of those good, wise men who 
 were formerly in our nation, and who had all learnt fully these 
 hooks, none would translate any part into their own language 
 .... I then recollected how the law was first revealed in the 
 Hebrew tongue, and that after the Greeks had learned it they 
 turned it all into their own language, and also other hooks ; and 
 the Latin men likewise when they had learned it . . . turned it 
 into their own tongue, and also every other Christian nation 
 translated some parts. Therefore I think it better, if you think 
 
 . that we also translate some books, the most necessary for all 
 men to know, into our own language ; and we may do this, with 
 God's help, very easily, if we have stillness." 
 
 42. So when they had a time of " stillness " the king and his 
 learned friends set to work and translated books into English ; 
 and Alfred, who was as modest and candid as he was wise, put 
 into the preface of one of his translations that he hoped, if any 
 one knew Latin better than he did, that he would not blame 
 him, for he could but do according to his ability. 
 
 13. Now what boo! a did they translate? 
 
 For a religious book he chose one which had been written in 
 
 Latin by Gregory the Great; the very Gregory who sent the 
 
 missionaries to England, and who, it was believed, was inspired 
 
 by the Holy Ghost. In old pictures and Btatues of Gregory we 
 
 him with a dove on Ills shoulder whispering into his 
 
 II. For the history of England he took that beautiful and 
 naive one by Bede, of whirl, we have already read parts. 
 He also encouraged, if he did not write, the 'Anglo-Saxon 
 Chronicle,' which had been very dry and poor before, but 
 becomes full and inti in his reign. This is the first his- 
 
 tory of themselves written by any Teutonic people in their own 
 language, and not only scholars in England, bul in Germany 
 ■ t in it. I shall often give extracts from it 
 go on, for it was carried on for some hundreds of years 
 after this time. 
 
 15. For geography and genera] history he took a Latin hunk 
 by OrosiuM, who was a friend of St. Augustine, and wrote in the 
 fifth century. This he altered and added to, for in the time 
 which had pa Bed since it was written, men had learnt more 
 about some part of the earth. Two travellers whom Alfred 
 knew had explored different parts of the north, -Norway, the 
 
 o
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lew. 
 
 White S .-- and gave the king accounts of what they had 
 
 : the reindeer and the whales, and the people with their 
 
 Btrange habits and ways. Alfred was interested in all this: ho 
 
 e it down and pul it into his geography-book, where we may 
 
 I it to day, it' we like. 
 
 . Then he translated a book called the 'Consolations of 
 
 Philosophy,' and added to that a great many wise thoughts of 
 
 bis own. Be tells as some of his ideas about the government 
 
 of his kingdom. "Thou knowest that covetousness and the 
 
 on of th !v power I did not well like, nor strongly 
 
 desired al all this earthly kingdom. But oh ! 1 desired materials 
 
 for the work I was commanded to do. . . . These are the ma- 
 
 of a king's work and his tools to govern with — that lie 
 
 should have his land fully peopled ; that he should have prayer- 
 
 m. in, and army-men, and work-men. . . . This I can now most 
 
 truly say, thai so Ion- as I have lived I have striven to live 
 
 worthily, and after nay life to leave to the men that should he 
 
 after me a remembrance of me in good works." Surely that 
 
 noble wish and that noble striving have been fulfilled. 
 
 •17. B this. In' had a great many other occupations. 
 
 r, who often lived with him tor months at a time, <;'ives us 
 
 _. an account of his busy lite. Notwithstanding his 
 
 wor j I infirmities ami other hindrances, "he continued to 
 
 carry on the government, and to exercise hunting in 
 
 etll its branches ; to teach his workers in --old ami artificers of all 
 
 kiiei aers, hawkers, and dog-keepers; to build houses, 
 
 tic and ?ood, beyond all the precedents of his ancestors, by 
 
 ■ dinventions; to lvcite the Saxon books (A 
 
 Welshman, al. [la the English, Saxon), and espe- 
 
 learn by heart the Saxon poems, and to make, others 
 
 . them : he never desisted from studying most diligently to 
 
 the I ■ bis ability; h ded the mass ami other daily 
 
 ion; lie. was frequent in psalm-singing and 
 
 he best iwed alms and largesses on both natives 
 
 ami : >f all countries; he was affable and pleasant to 
 
 all, and curiously eager to investigate things unknown." 
 
 II" nol only Benl pri jente to the different Christian Churches 
 
 in Rome, Ji i li'-ui, &c, hut all the way to India, where there 
 
 1 ristian settlements, and this was the very first 
 
 England and India. Could lie but have 
 
 thi state of things now, how he would have b 
 
 48. In the midst of all this business lie had a great want— he
 
 ix.] ALFRED. S3 
 
 could not tell how the time went. In those days there were no 
 clocks ; they had not yet been invented, or at all events none 
 had come to England. And though in fine weather people can 
 tell the time by looking at the sky, and seeing where the sun 
 and the stars arc, that is a very uncertain resource in a cloudy and 
 foggy country like ours. Alfred had a very ingenious invention 
 
 getting out of this difficulty; he had wax candies made very 
 c irefully and measured into compartments, each of which would 
 Itiirn a certain time. Then, however, a fresh difficulty arose, which 
 gives us a pleasing idea of the warmth and comfort even of kings' 
 palaces in those days. The candles, however carefully weighed, 
 often burnt out before their time on account of the violence of 
 the wind, which blew day and night without intermission through 
 the doors and windows, and the cracks and fissures in the walls, 
 both of chinches and palaces. But the king's ingenuity soon 
 hit upon an expedient to remedy this — an expedient so wonder- 
 ful and beautiful that Asser seems quite lost in astonishment 
 and admiration as he describes it. This last invention was no 
 other than a lantern of horn ! by means of which protection the 
 candle-clocks burnt for exactly the appointed period. It quite 
 does one good sometimes to see how surprisingly clever things 
 1 at first when they were new, which we have now i 
 
 iok upon as very obvious and commonplace affairs. 
 4'J. Thus Alfred's years went by. He had some, more trouble 
 with the Danes before Ins reign was over, but they were fully 
 conquered and driven off again. Then followed four more years 
 of peace, and then he died, only fifty-three years 
 old; worn out, before liis time, no doubt, by cease- 
 toil j and leaving behind him, not "a name at which the 
 world grows pale," 1 >ut a name at which every English heart 
 
 rS warm with pride, and gratitude, and love. 
 
 Note to par. II,)'. 71 : There is now a picture of Ethelwulf, with other 
 Christian longs, in one of the gallerii i i the Vatican. 
 
 - 2
 
 si LECTURES ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [lect- 
 
 LECTURE X.— ENC5LAXD IN PROSPERITY. 
 
 nl. mts. Ethelstane. Condition of the people. Ranks of 
 .. The i ]"• Slavery. Treatment of women. Food, amuse- 
 in' buildings. The names for the months. 
 
 1. Though Alfred died before his time, happily for England 
 worthy children behind him. His eldest son, Edward, 
 was made king, and under Mm England became 
 ^ iter and more glorious than it had ever yet been. 
 
 th( lder "'" Beema l " have been quite as skilful a warrior 
 and ruler as his father, but though he had hadagood 
 n, he m o fond of study and boobs. Alfred appears 
 
 taken special pains in training him and his eldest sister 
 ed him in governing the kingdom and protecting it from 
 tea. Th r, Ethelfled, was married to an alderman, 
 
 a title which has been explained before. At the time of which 
 now spi king an alderman seems to have been almost the 
 or under-king. Though Alfred was king over 
 all | . -'ill it was hundreds of years before it was for- 
 
 n thai Mercia, Northumberland, and the others had been 
 loms, and every now and then a king crops 
 Dg them, especially in the north. 
 I thelfh :'- husband was Alderman or Viceroy of Mercia, 
 ped Alfred and Edward mosl gallantly in the struggle 
 with the Danes. After he died Ethelfled took his 
 ^of the* 7 1' 1: "''' a1 "' U ' :|S T"' 1 '' ' IS brave and gallant as he. ■ In 
 Mercians. King Alfred's will be made a distinction between 
 what he called the "spear-half" and the "spindle- 
 family. He provided very liberally for his wife and 
 but had he lived to see how Ethelfled led armies, built 
 lered enemies, he would perhaps have said she 
 
 i half." 
 
 helped her brothi i Edward not only in defending the 
 
 . m which Alfred left, but also in reconquering the other 
 
 Mercia where the Danes had settled themselves very 
 
 1 had founded the live boroughs which were called
 
 x ] ENGLAND IX PROSPERITY. 85 
 
 the " Danish boroughs," Derby, Lincoln, Leicester, Stamford, 
 and Nottingham. The boroughs themselves, however, wore not 
 nquered till some time afterwards. They also reconquered 
 Essex and East Anglia, and they built forts in all directions. 
 This was something quite new in English or Anglo-Saxon war- 
 fare, for all the German race hated walls and cities. But in the 
 time of danger they had most likely often profited by the 
 strong walls which the old Romans had built in many places, 
 which were still standing firm, and winch would give them 
 shelter from their enemies. And so, by degrees, they became 
 partly reconciled to fortresses and walled towns, though they still 
 Lojrod tin.; open forest ami plain better. 
 
 4. When Ethelfled, " the Lady of the Mercians," died, her 
 brother - -d to her dominions, and thus became king over 
 all England south of the Humber. Here he was sole 
 
 king, with no under-kings ; but he was now so Submission 
 powerful that the other princes and kings in the ^}i 
 whole island submitted to him. The Welsh and island. 
 
 ■ h had suffered from the Danes as much as 
 the English had done, and no doubt they felt the Deed of a 
 powerful pi ; so "the kings of North Wales, 
 
 and all the North Welsh race, soughl him for lord." 922, 
 North Wales meant all that we call Wales now, and as these 
 North Welsh were the descendants of the ancienl Britons, we 
 may Bay that their conquesl was now complete for the time. 
 Then a year or two afterwards "the King of the 
 
 .and all the nation of the Scots, and all those " 
 
 who dwelt in Northumbria, as well English as Danish, and North- 
 men, and others, and also the King of the Strathclyde Welsh, 
 and all the Strathclyde Welsh, chose him for father and lord." 
 
 5. Edward was the over-king of all these; they owed him 
 service, and he owed them protection. These under-kings and 
 under lords are called "vassals;" ami we shall find the same 
 
 ■ mi' more and more general throughout Europi 
 •on. Tims Edward may !"• considered as sole km 
 England south of the Eumber, and over lord, or emperor, as he 
 i imetimes called, of all the i t of the island of all tin: 
 Welsh and all the Scotch. 
 
 After his death hi- son Ethelstane was made king. He 
 was a-t grand a king father. He too had badtheadvanl 
 
 of being partly trained up by his grandfather A Ifred ; 
 for I thai he was brought up at, Alfred's 925 
 
 court, and that, being a beautiful an le hoy,
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 with golden hair, his grandfather was delighted with him; 
 prophesied thai he would have a fortunate reign when his turn 
 came, and gave him a royal purple mantle, a belt set with 
 precious Btones, and a sword in a golden sheath. 
 
 7. Ethelstane added to his father's kingdom the whole of 
 
 thumberland, bo he was really King of England; very much 
 
 ame England that it is now, except Cumberland, or Strath- 
 
 clyde, which had its own under-king still. But he 
 
 had to b'ghl for it. The Danes, Welsh, and Soldi 
 
 I • ther to rehelagainsl him and at Brunanburh one of 
 
 Bghts the English had ever fought was fought and 
 
 . It Beemsto I a such a glorious victory that the man 
 
 who was writing the history of this time (in the 'Anglo-Saxon 
 
 Chronicle') could not be content with telling it in a plain way, 
 
 :! into ) try. 
 
 have now come to the palmy days of the Anglo- 
 jdom, we will pause and try to form some clearer 
 if the habits and manner of lite of our forefathers in. those 
 old tinn 
 
 We know that from tin- earliest times they had had different 
 
 v, a- we have now, only that they were still 
 
 more distinct than ours are. For they thought tiny 
 
 society were "* different birth and origin altogether, 
 
 although our dear and noble Alfred taught the 
 
 iris t!ii! men were all <>f one blood, saying, "Every one 
 
 thai all men come from one father and one mother." 
 
 The old Teutons had nol thought that, and though, of course, 
 
 ■ they were Christians they were bound t<> believe it, 
 
 -till no deal of noble birth. We heard of the 
 
 ils and tie' churls. The earls were the nobles, and 
 
 the churls were tie' freemen, who were not noble, hut who 
 
 I Borne land ami had a voice in the govern- 
 
 B by this time another class of nobles also, 
 
 not necessarily horn Tie'-" were the king's 
 
 i d folh nits whom he used to reward with 
 
 el title as now a clever lawyer or a victorious 
 
 soldier ; !■• a lord, and ha- money or land given him. 
 
 •• newer nob! called "thanes" or "thegns." A 
 
 churl mighl i be a thane, hut in tie; old times he could 
 
 i be an earl. 
 
 An English king was not absolute; that is, he, could not 
 
 r ling to hi-, own will j he had to get the consent of
 
 x.] ENGLAND IN PROSPERITY. S7 
 
 ■iien" for all that he commanded. The 
 earls and the thanes, the bishops and the abbots, The Witena- 
 were all supposed to be wise ; and these formed an ^wltan 01 
 
 irably or council for the king to refer to. The 
 
 nembly was called in the old English language " Witan," or 
 " Witenagemot." Witan meant wise or "witty" men, and 
 
 not meant assembly.* 
 
 10. We have a curious way of seeing the different value they 
 put upon the different ranks by the punishments that were fixed 
 for injuring or killing them. In our days, if a man murdered 
 an archbishop, a duke, or a beggar he would get just the same 
 punishment. The life of every man, woman, or child in the 
 
 rntry is held of the same value; but in those days then: was 
 a great difference. The punishment was generally a fine in 
 ■ . paid to the family of the slaughtered man to compensate 
 them for their loss. In the scale of fines fixed in Alfred's time, 
 we find that to kill a king cost 120 shillings. Money was 
 worth a great deal more then than it is now, ami this was 
 
 nsidered a very large sum. Moreover, he had to pay that 
 twice over — once to the king's own family, and then again the 
 sai:i" sum to the o ition, because both had suffered loss. For an 
 
 ihbishop the. slayer hid to pay ninety shillings ; for a bishop, 
 alderman, or earl Bixty shillings ; and so on, down to the simple 
 churl, and Pot him only live shillings! 
 
 11. But below all these there were a race of people whose 
 family got nothing at all. 'rip'-'' were the slaves or "thralls." 
 If any one killed a slave he only had to make 
 
 co tion to his ma ter for t lie loss of his 
 
 be would have done had he killed his horse or 
 his ox. We are not to think our forefathers were worse than 
 other people in na ii i\ e . for in old times, as was mentioned 
 before, this was the universal practice. The slaves belonging to 
 the English were partly descended from the oil conquered 
 Britons, but were partly of the same race as themselves. Some- 
 times freemen were degraded into slaves in punishment for 
 some ciime; Bometimes they sani into that class through 
 poverty, or sold their children into it. If was permitted by 
 law to a poor man to sell his child, provided the child con- 
 sented. 
 
 12. We will now loot a little more closely into tie. condition 
 of the old English lave . because, though we rend y\y little 
 about them in history, they were really the large t part, of the
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [leot. 
 
 poo] There were many more slaves than freemen, just, as 
 
 there are many more | r and workiug people than there 
 
 ich ] pie. 
 
 1 :\. < >: • interesi in studying history is to notice how 
 
 thin. 1 for the better. We have already observed 
 
 itly wars were carried on after the introduction of 
 
 l nity from what they were before, and at the present 
 
 they are far less savage and cruel than they were even two 
 
 ■ hundn 1 ite of the poor is another 
 
 ig in which there La a _-:• at change for the hitter — so great 
 
 and marked a change that il oug] ve us much hope for 
 
 [hi ement, the progress which has been 
 
 jtop now, we may be sure. 
 
 15. A nearly all the working classes in 
 
 uly all the plo . the shepherds, the carpenters, 
 
 ml the d urymaids were slaves. Let us try to realize 
 
 In our •! i man lias a bad master, if a girl has a bad 
 
 . have to work too hard, if they do nol get enough 
 
 re unkindly treated, whal dotheydol In theory 
 
 way and seek another service which will 
 
 them better. A thousand years ajo. i|,,.y eould not do that. 
 
 v had would always be their master or 
 
 or bad, kind or cruel. It' the Bervant was goaded 
 
 '■■■IV, hi r might pursue him and kill him, 
 
 r he was his own property. He would not be 
 
 i for killing him any more than a farmer would be 
 
 r killing a vicious bull or an unruly horse. Again, 
 
 e, might sell his servants. A dive was 
 
 shillings in those days, and there was a 
 
 kept up ai Bristol, which went on for 
 
 i master might whip them, or chain them 
 
 I them ; in . he might be very nearly as cruel 
 
 not appear that they were often 
 
 • ■• we may imagine what a 
 
 ■ p might make his slaves suffer. 
 
 I old into foreign parts, but in 
 
 the land on which they were horn. 
 
 farm or hi I with it the men, 
 
 ind the crops. 'I ep, the pigs, the men, 
 
 • all put down together. Ii a gentleman or 
 
 i will, they would put down in it, the house, furni- 
 
 . ■ All this sounds very curious to 
 
 amusing. But let us try and
 
 x] ENGLAND IX PROSPERITY. 89 
 
 imagine how we should have liked it ourselves, to be sold, or 
 given, or willed away to a new master, who might beat us or kill 
 us, and we not to have a word to say on the matter. 
 
 16. Still, even at this time, things were improving. Christi- 
 anity had done something, and would do more. We remember 
 
 good Bishop "Wilfrid, win. taught the Sussex 
 
 men to catch lid., and how he set his 250 slaves ^J^f 
 , ' . , , i t t , i of Cniisti- 
 
 . Many other bishops and clergymen did the anity. 
 
 Bame, and they taught the laity in follow their 
 
 example. Though the law did not punish a master for killing 
 
 slave, the Church made him do penance for it as a sin. In 
 
 ■• days the Church and the clergy had so much more power 
 
 . they have now that we can hardly understand it. It was 
 
 thought a very dreadful thing to be under the displeasure of the 
 
 Church, and no doubt the fear of that would hinder many a 
 
 man from cruelty. By degrees it became a custom for many 
 
 people to give liberty to their slaves. In some of their old wills 
 
 may read how the master or mistress says, "Let Wulfware 
 
 . ,.,-d ; let 1 and his wife and his eldest daughter be 
 
 Pifus be freed." Sometimes, which was a great deal 
 
 :• than doing it only by will after he was dead, a master 
 
 would free his slave while he was still living. The slave would 
 
 .ken to the church porch, or the altar, and solemnly set at 
 
 rty, and the record of it would be written in one of the 
 
 . . or Bometimes his master would take him to a 
 
 e when; four roads met, and tell him to go whichever way 
 
 ed. 
 
 17. Thus, by degrees, things improved. Every now and then 
 
 of laws being made for the good of the slaves. Their 
 er had to give them two loaves every day besides the morn- 
 ing meal and noontide meal. They had their Sundays and 
 r holidays, and, in some way or other, they had some money. 
 How they got it is not exactly known, but perhaps it might be 
 by working extra hour-,. They certainly had some, for we read 
 how they Bometimi po s< jed en lugh to buy their own freedom 
 .in I thai of their wives and children. < hie man bought freedom 
 himself, his wife, their children, and grandchildren for £2. 
 
 18. Bui while, tie- were thus gradually rising, tl ther 
 
 people, the freemen, were gradually Binking. Lhi • 
 
 iming villain i, oi villi ins. Thai sound - . . 
 
 like usin r abusive language, but, as we know, 
 
 words have changed their meaning. Churl b already 
 
 explained (p. 12). Vilt ' only meant a BOrl of village]
 
 LECTDRE8 ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [lew. 
 
 or I ..int. a country-man, as a villa means a country 
 
 1 to mean a farm. By degrees it came to have 
 • 1 meaning, many other words have done; for instance, 
 
 a and heathen. 
 
 19. Wli.ii is meanl by saying thai the churls were sinking 
 villains is not thai they were becoming wicked and villanous, 
 
 but that they were seeking masters. Jusl as on 
 
 Rise of the a ], ;,. t | lr weaker princes or kings sought out 
 
 svEtem stronger one to be their master and protector, as 
 
 tin- petty princes of Wales and Cumberland chose 
 
 Edward "as father and lord," so in a small way private men 
 
 who were not rich or strong tried to gi I 3ome powerful man as 
 
 ■id protector. Then they became his "men," and had 
 
 do him Bervice, so at last there was hardly a poor and free 
 
 left who was nol bound to a lord. Thus lie lost all share. 
 
 in the government, and became in many cases very much like a 
 
 ed to the land, and with no free will of his own. 
 
 20. This was, perhaps, in some ways a good thing for the 
 man at thai tines when there were so many wars and 
 
 . for, though it took away his independence, the protec- 
 
 lord must have been a great comfort to him. In 
 
 those old days the very words lord and lady must have had a 
 
 in 1. They were .-]>''lt hlaford, hlsefdige Blaf is 
 
 i foi : tf. Hlaford and hi ■. which 
 
 look very uncouth and unpronounoei ind which time has 
 
 ed and smoothed down into lord and lady, meant ■ 
 
 • 1 or loaf. 
 
 21. Tins Bystem of everybody, from under-kings and princes 
 ii to t!i . having a lord over him, prevailed over 
 
 I ■ centuries, and was called the 
 
 in." It was more definitely established in England 
 
 : ; Alfred, but the things now men- 
 
 i he beginning - of it. 
 
 When irn our attention to the other people in the 
 
 atry who were nol r villains— tin- nobles, gentry, and 
 
 fan men — it is pleasant to find in the first 
 
 pla d treated the women with great 
 
 WO m„ D . they did in the days when Tacitus wrote 
 
 them. The l.e lish women, in the times at 
 
 have now arrived, marly 800 years alter Tacitus, 
 
 I i boi our and consideration. Some were 
 
 mong the "wise men" in the witena- 
 
 - no hides nowadays sit in the House of
 
 x .] ENGLAND IX PROSPERITY. 01 
 
 Parliament They used to be present at all the feasts. They 
 had property of their own, and could sell it or make wills to 
 dispose of it as they liked ; and many laws were made to protect 
 them in all ways. Thus we see the "spindle-half" were well 
 
 red for. 
 
 23. We will next inquire a little about the way our fathers 
 \u it their food and drink, their dress, how they amused 
 
 themselves, and what sort of houses they inhabited. 
 
 The rich people fared very well and ate many of the same 
 sort of things that we do. They had wheaten bread, but the 
 poor only got barley bread, because it was cheaper. FoQd ^ 
 They had plenty of meat and game; beef, mutton, drink. 
 fowls, venison, and hares ; but they had also what 
 we do ii' «t eat now. goats, and at one time horses. It was 
 fur a curious reason that the eating of horses was given up. 
 It seems that the Church forbade it because in heathen times 
 it used to be done in honour of Woden. The clergy were not 
 
 above Looking alter the 1' 1 ami manners of the people. They 
 
 made them '1" penance if they ate anything only half-cooked, or 
 anything dirty. More pork or bacon, however, was eaten than 
 anything else. The country was .-till in great part covered with 
 woods and Forests, and it was therefore very cheap and easy to 
 fatten pigs as they like acorns and beech-nuts. The word 
 "bacon" i< perhaps derived from "beechen." They ate fish, 
 . pecially eels ; ilmon, herrings, Lobsters, oysters, &c, 
 
 im ,l porpi Ineh we should Dot wish for now. They had 
 
 plenty of vegetables and unit ; hut some things which we have 
 in very common use they had either very little of or nut at all. 
 They had cabbages, hut do potatoes, dot rice, and very little sugar. 
 Instead of sugar they used a greal deal of honey, for they kept 
 many mure bee hives than we do. They thoughl a -nod deal of 
 spires, hut of course in those days things which had to he 
 brought from abroad, a pice, were very rare. There 
 
 were lait few shi|H. and those very small compared with what 
 
 we have now. It was considered quite a hands present to 
 
 send ai e pepper and cinnamon to a lady. 
 
 •j I. The Etigli li -t'll Liked thai "kind of drink made from 
 barley" which I mentions. They had their strong ale and 
 
 their mild ale, and th I i have been the principal drink 
 
 who could afford it. If the poor people could nol 
 ale they had t.» drink water, or perhaps buttermilk. Wine, Like 
 ir and spice, was a sat of luxury. Though they did grow 
 pes and make wine in England at this time, we may take it
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 panted that the grapes would not ripen very well, and they 
 
 ibly gol very Little and very sour wine from them, "while 
 
 wine they imported from foreign parts would be expensive. 
 
 Someof our favourite and mosl common drinks, — tea, coffee, and 
 
 ■ •. bad never even heard of. They drank, however, 
 
 i which we but seldom see now, mead and other 
 
 bevi made from honey. 
 
 25. Unhappily, Hay were still, like the old Germans of 
 
 Tacil fond of drinking; and though the clergy made 
 
 real many laws againsl drunkenness, they were 
 
 Banquets. n(jt muct) . lUl , n , 1(1 ,| ,,, jf a j^g r a great nun 
 
 :. they would dine very early, and continue drinking 
 B l day long until the evening. 
 
 Bui thi y had a liking for something better too, for it was 
 
 on thing at a festival to have music and singing. In 
 
 those days, when bo few people could read, and there 
 
 A ™°. 8 s e " were bo few books to be read, it was a great delight 
 
 to the i pie tn hear stories and histories in verse ; 
 
 and a man who could play on the harp and sing ballads was 
 vi ry wi Icome, wherever he went. Be was called a glee-man. 
 
 They had me other amusements which we cannot call 
 
 very intellectual They had tumblers and dancing bears, and 
 they had jugglers, of whom some amusing old pictures remain 
 — tl: i man throwing three knives and three balls 
 
 the air and catching them. Then, as was 
 menl before, they liked hunting, hawking, wrestling, and 
 
 ch like " athletic Bports." 
 
 27. Tl nd of handsome clothes. Both gentleman 
 
 wore ornaments, Buch as necklaces, bracelets, and 
 
 rings of gold They liked dresses of different colours, 
 
 and with ornamented borders and stripes. Most of 
 
 . the pictures with which they ornamented their 
 
 ind which are still in existence. When they made a picture 
 
 imple, out. «if the Bible, they never thought of 
 
 painting it i illy happened, or tried to find out what dresses 
 
 boulddoj hilt, they painted them just like, 
 
 men and women them. So they painted King David and 
 
 i frontispiece to the Honk of Psalms; and 
 
 I ' rid sitting on his throne and playing on a harp, and 
 
 the other four around him : one playing a violin, one blowing a 
 
 ,, another a trumpet, and ing up the knives and 
 
 ball- 1 Ethan, who is said to have written the grand 
 
 .... P dm. And when they painted the four evangelists
 
 x.] ENGLAND IN PROSPERITY. 03 
 
 they dressed them in what people were then accustomed to 
 wear. St. Matthew was represented in a purple undergown 
 with long sleeves and a yellow border, and a green upper robe, 
 striped with red. He sits on a stool with a brown cushion, but no 
 back. 
 
 28. To make all these things they must have had people 
 who could weave, spin, dye, and embroider. The ladies, even 
 the princesses, spent the greater part of their time in 
 
 such employments. There ate descriptions of very 
 beautiful embroidered robes, with tigures of peacocks and other 
 ornaments. < me lady, who must have been a very good wife, 
 had a curtain woven or embroidered with pictures of all the 
 actions of her husband. They had also goldsmiths and jewellers 
 to make the rings, bracelets, and other ornaments of which they 
 were so fond. 
 
 The clergy of those days used to complain of fine dressing and 
 luxurious ornaments, just as they do now, and as Isaiah did 
 before I h< m. 
 
 29. With reaped in their buildings, it seems their houses were 
 r plain and inconvenient, and mostly built of wood j but 
 
 their churches and monasteries were expensive and •i ( r ne . s 
 handsome. Some few of them remain to tin' present 
 time. They were strong and heavy, with very thick pillars and 
 round arches, lor pointed arches had not yet been invented. The 
 churches limit, in [taly at the same period all had round arches. 
 Many of them are ,-iill to he seen, for in that climate buildings 
 stand much longer than they do in England ; but though they 
 aiv of the - c: oi irehitecture, we, cannot hut own that they 
 
 are far more beautiful and interesting than any of those of the 
 Barm □ England. 
 
 30. Though the outside of the houses was not handsome, they 
 
 took a good deal of pains with making them nice inside, liich 
 people hid beautiful hangin ; on the walls, made of Furniture 
 s i i k , and sometimes decorated with golden birds, or 
 with pictures in needle-work. It Beems, however, that these 
 
 splendid hangings were only put, up on grand OCCH LOn8, and in 
 
 a common way they had alt tie, e windy draughts through the 
 crevicea of the walls which obliged Alfred to invenl In lanterns. 
 
 31. Their furniture, where people were rich, seems to have 
 been verj hand ome. They had fine stools and benches, but very 
 
 ,iu any chairs with ha. I- to them. Perhaps their athletic 
 sports mad tronger than we are. Their tables were orna- 
 
 mented with gold and silver, and they had di he, and cup of
 
 Ot LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 gold, though tin' commonesl sort of drinking-cups were horns, for 
 
 was still very scarce. They had not yet learnt to use lurks. 
 
 32. Though we still call our days of the week by the same 
 
 names our forefathers did, we have Left off their names for the 
 
 months, and taken up with Latin ones instead. Tlio following is 
 
 ;i lisl of tli" old names said to have been given to the months by 
 
 the Anglo-Saxons, and if it is a correct one it gives us many 
 
 picturesque little hints of tie of the country and ways of 
 
 le at that time : — 
 
 January, Wolf-month ; "because people are wont always in 
 that month to be in more danger to be devoured of wolves 
 than in any season else of the year; for that through the 
 extremity of cold and snow these ravenous beasts could not 
 find enl to feed in." 
 
 iuary. Sprout-kail (orcabbage), 
 
 March. Lent-month. " Lenl " or "lenz,"an old German word for 
 spring, and which we give to the forty days of fasting, 
 b( they fall hi the spring. 
 
 April. Ea I ister monl h. 
 
 May. Tiiniilki; because in that month they began to milk 
 their cows three times a day. 
 Weid-month or Pasture-month. 
 Hay-month. 
 
 Barn-month; bi they Idled their barns with 
 
 : 11. 
 
 i ey-monthj either barley-harvest or brewing- 
 month. 
 
 Wine-monthj when they still attempted to make 
 wine. 
 
 Windy-month. 
 
 Winter-month, 01 Ibdy-month, in honour of Chri.st- 
 m . 
 
 I>. s7 : The nun atures of the 'Witan was 
 
 • I • 100. 
 H lot, p. 90: This is inferred from the signatures of 
 
 , appended to certain documents drawn up by the
 
 XI .-| DUNSTAN. 95 
 
 LECTURE XL— DUNSTAN". 
 
 The kings after Ethelstane. Edgar the Peaceable. The wolf-tribute. 
 The vassal-kings. St. Dunstan. The religion of the period. Supersti- 
 
 , tions — witches — the ordeal. 
 
 1. After the death of Ethelstane, his two younger brothers, 
 tund the Mi at (or the doer of great deeds) and Edred 
 
 the 1. at, were kings in turn. Judging by their 
 
 names, there seems some reason for thinking that Erlmund- 
 Alfred's grandsons were worthy of him; but they, 
 and mo e other kings of theiT line, had very short lives, 
 
 and all through then we find the principal interest centres 
 
 in one man, a pries! named Dunstan. Unlike the kings, Dunstan 
 had a Long life, and we read of him in six reigns in succession. 
 
 2. [1 i very difficult to form a jus! opinion about Dunstan, 
 
 different writer ferent accounts of him. 
 
 One writes of him thus : " S e how he hath been honoured, win mi 
 
 God thought worthy of honour! See in what manner he hath 
 
 rod into the joy of hi i Lord, who was found faithful over the 
 
 talents committed to his charge." Another (our old friend Fuller), 
 
 mentioning that Dun in caused some one to do penance 
 
 for seven y< in: "Allthal [ will add is this ; if Dun 
 
 did septenary pi for every mortal sin he committed, he must 
 
 have been ;t Methuselah, extremely aged, before the day of his 
 
 death." A modern writer calls him " the villain Dunstan," and 
 
 he whs "an imperious, audacious, ill-conditioned priest." 
 
 3. Now what shall we judge aboul this man I We shall per- 
 agree that it. is rather like the story of the ljt* - 1 « i and silver 
 
 Bhield : thai he was neither all good nor all bad; it depends upon 
 what point of view we Look at him from. It is very unfair, 
 though LI seems a great temptation, and is very common, to j 
 
 of a man's charact< r >rding a he agrei or does not agree with 
 
 our opinions. If he believe exactly what we believe, we are 
 Inclined to think he i a food man ; though his actions may 
 not be :_ r 1 at all. Bnt if he believe something differenl from
 
 LECTURES <>N ENGLISB BISTORT. [lect. 
 
 what we believe, we perhaps think him very Lad, and do not like 
 
 ive him credit for hie good actions. I rnfortunately, this is the 
 
 commonest of all in matters of religion, and we can partly Bee 
 
 why. We care most aboul our religion because that is the root 
 
 ,.,-ytlii); . bul we forgel that religion does not lie so 
 
 much in our opinions as in our love. The more love we have, the 
 
 more we can understand and see the goodness of other people's 
 
 characters, and the more glad we can he that they are not all 
 
 alike, but different. The more humble we are, the more we shall 
 
 feel thai we do not know and cannot know all; that we see 
 
 i part, while others see other parts, and that only God sees 
 
 all and understands all. 
 
 This tendency perhaps explains why people think so differ- 
 ently about l>nnstan. Be was very strong in his religious 
 c .pinions, and some people agree with him ; these are inclined to 
 think him quite right, and a saint. < Mher people dill'er from him, 
 and these are inclined to think him all wrong, and, instead of a 
 saint, a villain. We arc also almost sure that some of the stories 
 told of Dunstan, both good and had, on which people have partly 
 founded their opinions, were not true. Now though in many 
 pee with his religious views, we will neverthe- 
 try to be candid, and to sec truly what he did, and what he 
 bed and intended. 
 
 then, we certainly find that in the governing of the 
 
 I ive very good advice, and the kings who took 
 
 him for their counsellor, ruled well and wisely. 
 
 Ed th Edgar especially, who reigned longer than some of 
 
 Peaceable, them, and who made I Minstan almost what we should 
 
 now call his "prime minister," had a very glorious 
 
 •.. We will leave the religious pari aside for the present, and 
 
 verned. 
 
 I! \ • ; -, surname is a fine one, for he was called Edgar the 
 
 le. There were no foreign invasions, and scarcely any 
 
 dl throughout his reign. After all the ravages and 
 
 we have beard of, we can imagine the blessing this time of 
 
 ■ bave been to the country. It was not gained without 
 
 .1 : llowing Alfred's example had a fine fleet of 
 
 whicb • •■■rv year sailed round the whole island. Very 
 
 . the kin^' went, with it, and the Danes were prevented from 
 
 When he was not with his ships, Edgar spent a 
 
 d of time in travelling about the country, and seeing that 
 
 tnd ma. did their duty, and that order and 
 
 he country was peaceful and pros-
 
 xr.] DONSTAN. 97 
 
 perous, and long afterwards the people looked back upon Edgar 
 and Edgar's law. and longed to have them again. 
 
 7. Though no fresh invasion of the Danes took place, there 
 were, it will be remembered, a great many of them settled down 
 in the land. Edgar treated these very well ; he allowed them to 
 be governed by laws of their own choosing, and in every respect 
 made them equal to the English. 
 
 The thing most needful of all for the strengthening and pros- 
 perity of the kingdom was that it should be consolidated; that 
 
 hat all the different provinces and sub-kingdoms, 
 which owed a sort of obedience to the king, should Consolidation 
 
 illy obey him, should be really attached to him and of ^^ 
 to his rule, and more and more come to feel them- 
 selves one nation. This was the great aim of Edgar's reign ; and 
 in all he did Dunstan was his principal helper and adviser. All 
 the different under-kinga grew very submissive, and he had hardly 
 ever any need to fight for his supremacy. A\ r e read that he was 
 rowed on the river Dee at Chester by eight of these vassal kino-s, 
 while he himself steered the boat. That must have been a proud 
 dav tor the King of England. Of the eight, one was the King of 
 
 ■'land, one of Strathclyde, one of the Isles (Fuller says this 
 one was " a great sea-robber, who may pass for the prince of 
 j, and live were princes of different parts of Wales. 
 
 - One of these Welshmen is said to have had to paya tribute 
 to the king, instead of in money, in wolves' heads. If this story 
 i ■ i", it certainly shows that Edgar eared for the 
 
 good of the people more than for getting money \ D ? 
 
 hiui-'lf. as tin-, wolves' heads would not be of much 
 
 use to him. They .say that 300 wolves' heads were paid every 
 
 ■ for three years, and that after that fine- they Could not find 
 
 wolves enough to pay itagain. But they did not really extirpate 
 
 or put an end to the wolves fur a long time alb r that. In the 
 poem of the chronicler on Kthefstane's battle ,,f Ihunanburh we 
 heat of the wolves. After the victory was won, it says — 
 
 " the brother! 
 
 Both togi tier, 
 
 King and Etheling (oi prince royal), 
 
 theii country sought, 
 
 thi Weet*Saxon'i land, 
 
 in win- exulting, 
 
 They left behind them 
 
 the can 
 
 the swarthy riven, 
 
 the white taili d i 
 
 ii
 
 LEI TURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [ieot. 
 
 with goodly plum 
 the prei dy war-hawk, 
 
 and that tro-v beast 
 
 the wolf of the weald." 
 
 7 > i. 1 any one of us ever sec. a wild raven, or a wild eagle, or a 
 grey wild wolf! Nor, let'us thankfully add, have Ave ever seen 
 a field "f battle in our own land, with the pale carcases to be 
 devoured by tin-in. 
 
 V. A greal many different tales are told about Edgar's private 
 
 ind character; it is to be feared he may not have been so good 
 
 a man as he was a great kin_ r . There is a curious and romantic old 
 
 about his second marriage to Elf thryth or Elfrida,* but it 
 
 ertain whether it is true. It is, at any rate, true 
 
 that he married Elfrida, ami there seems little doubt that, though 
 
 very beautiful, Bhe was a wicked -woman. 
 
 In. \\',. inii-t now give some attention to the state of religion 
 
 at this tine-, and t<> Dunstan's plans with respect to it. We have 
 
 already Been that in those days any one who wished 
 
 T1 * e a ** te ° f to further religion thought that he could do it in no 
 
 better way than by founding or enriching monas- 
 
 I read the description of the monastery in which 
 
 lived and died as a sort of ideal. There were piety and 
 
 ing, prait is of God, teaching of men, writing and translating 
 
 ; and, again, cultivating the ground, tending the 
 
 len, orchard, and dairy. But even in Bede's time things 
 
 : always like this; many monks wen- idle and wicked; 
 
 i »uld nol be said to be houses of God. 'Tins 
 
 bach he gives of one. The speaker (whom Bede 
 
 . •• I, having nowvisited all this monastery regularly, 
 
 uambers ami bed }, and found none 
 
 lurself, busy about the care of his soul; 
 
 . both im-n and women, either indulge the] 
 
 ir are awake in order to commit sin; for even 
 
 ■ that were built for praying and reading an- now 
 
 I : ting, drinking, talking, and other 
 
 rirgins, dedicated to < lod, laying aside the 
 
 their pr< . er I hey are at h-isure 
 
 appb iving tine garments, either to use them in 
 
 i like brides, to the dan their condition, 
 
 Lship < : -■'■ men.'' These people being 
 
 i in a vision, "were lor a few days in some little 
 
 • Told in Freeman's 'Old English History,' p. 178.
 
 xi.] DUNSTAN. 99 
 
 fear, and, leaving off their sins, began to punish themselves ; hut 
 afterwards they returned to their former wickedness ; nay, they 
 became more wicked." 
 
 This is a specimen, no doubt, of many others; and probably 
 they had gone on getting worse and worse. 
 
 11. Then there were the other clergy who were not monks, 
 but who lived as clergymen do now, in their own houses, with 
 their wives ami families, and performed the services 
 in the parish churches and cathedrals. These were Dunstan's 
 called the secular clergy, and the monks the n gular p r e a { °^_ 
 clergy. The secular clergy, as we saw in the life of 
 Alfred, had become very ignorant, and probably very irreligious 
 Though Alfred had done all a man could do to improve 
 them, there still remained much to be done, and Dunstan was 
 
 earnest in his wish to reform the evils lie saw. So far, of 
 course, he was right. But most people in our time would not 
 approve of bis methods of reform One great thing at which he 
 aimed, was to make the clergymen give up their wives. There 
 is certainly nothing of thai sorl to be found, in the Bible ; but, as 
 was mentioned before, it bad gradually come to be believed that 
 it was more holy and more pleasing to God to deny the natural 
 affections, and that it was far better to be unmarried than mar- 
 ried. .Many of the old saints had forsaken their wives or thi ir 
 
 . .nd this was considered a great mark of sand 
 Again, tin- popes had begun to think that the clergy would 
 do their duties better and be more interested in them if they 
 had not got wives and children to think of end provide for. 
 Perhaps there may have been some truth in thi- ; but in gen 
 it has been found to work better if the clerg) have homes and 
 families, like other men ; they live, "n 'he whole, purer lives, and 
 
 have more sympathy with their people. Hut. they are not 
 bo entirely devoted to the Church, for they are citizen as wed 
 
 a- |il le 
 
 1 1. Now one of Dunstan's great ideas being to make the, 
 clergymen separate from their wives, we may imagine wl 
 struggle it would . and how the. clergy would hate the man 
 who forced them to do it. Tin change wi I peculiar to Eng- 
 land; it was made in all other pot- of the Western Church, — 
 that is, the ('lunch which was under tie' Pope, and i i 1 
 it tumults in many parts, at which we cannol wonder. 
 
 ]:!. Dunstan also favoured the monks, oi regular clergy, and 
 
 ..ii* t hem above the Becular. Wherever he could he turned 
 
 out the clergy from the cathedrals and huge: churche . and put
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [le«t. 
 
 monks in their place. Fuller owns the clergy were not- so good 
 as they ought t< bave heen, hul he thinks, and probably he is 
 quite right, thai the monks were much worse. "The hive of 
 the Church was in no whit bettered by putting out drones and 
 placing wasps in their rooi 
 
 11. In these two points then Dunstan's reforms might almost 
 be looked on as destructions ; but, on the other hand, he strove 
 in many ways to restore piety, learning, and purity. He took 
 - to revive the intercourse between the English and foreign 
 1 rches, which had rather fallen off of late; and this time, 
 instead of f [earnii from the English, as they had done 
 
 in the days of Charles the Great, and earlier, the English were 
 glad to learn from them. Many rules for the conduct of the 
 v were pul forth while Edgar was king, some of which 
 
 very g 1 ones. The priests were bidden to take cure of 
 
 their ch irehes, and give all their time to their sacred work. 
 They were not to indulge in idle speech, idle deeds, or excessive 
 drinking; nor were they to hunt, hawk, or dice. They were not 
 t'ul. or '• to put another to shame for his ignorance, 
 but to teach himbel Nor were the hi-h-horn to despise the 
 
 low-born. They were to distribute alms, and to urge the | pie 
 
 to 1"- charitable ; they were also to be diligent in teaching the 
 young. Thej were to preach every Sunday to the people, and 
 alwa Some of the old English sermons 
 
 sthM remain, and are very earnest and interesting. 
 
 15. The 1; imish Church does not now encourage the reading 
 "1 the Bible; we scarcely ever see a Bible in a Roman Catholic 
 
 Religion country ; but at this time, though the English were 
 
 of the under the Popi il deal was thought of study- 
 
 peopie. ing the Bible. Although Alfred and his friends do 
 
 ■a to have translated it, yet very soon after their time 
 
 translations were begun, some of which are still existing. One 
 
 of the trail said in his preface, that he turned it from 
 
 a into English " for the edification of the simple, who only 
 
 know this speech, that it m c teach the heart of those who 
 
 and r< 
 
 16, - •( their poetry and history is also very religious. 
 
 i poem about King Edgar: — 
 
 •• He wu widely among nations 
 •ly turnout d : 
 
 . ■ ].■ i una m d 
 I • name /• atously, 
 <i.ud uu Ij'ju's name meditated
 
 st.] DUNSTAN. 101 
 
 oft and frequently, 
 
 and God's praise exalted 
 
 wide and far." 
 
 Then it goes on to speak of his faults (which in his great patriot- 
 ism the poet thinks he learned from foreigners — outlandish men), 
 
 and ends — 
 
 " But may God grant him 
 that his good deeds 
 be more prevailing 
 than his misdeeds 
 lor his soul's protection 
 on the longsome journey." 
 
 An 1 he writes thus ahout Edgar's death : — 
 
 " Here ended the joys of earth, 
 Edgar of Angles kiui^ ; 
 chose him another light 
 beauteous and winsome, 
 and left tliis frail, 
 
 tins barren life." 
 
 This does not sound quite like poetry, or at least like verse, hut, 
 I'll- on. • thing, it is a translation from the old English of our 
 fathers ; moreover, they did nol make poetry as we do, at that 
 time. They had no rhymes, nor did they emint the syllables; 
 everything depended on the emphasis with which it was read or 
 repeated. The words which wen- to be emphatic, to be leant 
 upon, were generally made to begin with the same letter. 
 
 17. With all this religious feeling they were very super- 
 stitious. They shared heartily in the enthusiastic veneration then 
 paid to relics. There is a List of relics which were 
 
 kept in one church; il U said they were presented B titions 
 to it, by Ethelstane the Glorious. Amongst them 
 
 e a piece ■ actual cro i; of the burning bush; of the 
 
 Virgin's dr< me of St. Paul's bones; St. Andrew's stick j 
 
 the linger of .Mary Magdalene, &c, &c. Sunn- tune afterwards 
 an abbot of Peterborough wenl to a very poor monastery in Nor- 
 mandy and bought the whole body of a Baint, except his h< ad, 
 for 6500. 
 
 18. The •• we may call Christian superstitions; bul they had 
 a great many othei which had. it is likely, lasted on from 
 the old heathen times. Indeed, though the people wi re now all 
 nominally Christians, 'hey seem to have been converted in a very 
 who! ray, numbe: of the common people following the
 
 [02 LECTURES OK ENGLISH HISTORY. [leg*. 
 
 example of their kings and nobles, and being baptized when they 
 
 were. If a man was baptized he was supposed to be a < ihristian ; 
 
 iably still had some kind of belief in the old gods and 
 
 3. In the reigns of manj of the king3, even after this 
 
 . we find special laws forbidding heathenism. They believed 
 
 in wizards and witches, who had curious ceremonies with trees 
 
 and Btones; something, perhaps, like those of the old Druids. 
 
 19. We always laugh when we hear of witches now; but it 
 
 . i ighing matter in those days, nor for hundreds of years 
 
 srwards. If a person fell ill, and could not tell 
 
 what was the matter with him, very likely he and his 
 
 ads thought he was bewitched ; that is, they thought some 
 
 : >ii. win. wa- his enemy, perhaps living at a distance, had 
 
 ■ a charm over him, and was secretly and mysteriously causing 
 
 him to waste away. That would be a very horrible idea; for 
 
 they did not know how to work against such illnesses, and 
 
 probably many people would die of mere depression. Then we 
 
 imagine how they would hate the supposed witch, and how 
 
 v a perfectly harmless person would be accused. On the 
 
 other hand, they believed thai angels sometimes helped in curing 
 
 'I h< re i an account of one person who had a had knee, 
 
 whirl, the doctor could not cure till an angel advised the use of 
 
 rticular kind of poultice. They also thought that witi hes 
 
 1 do other mischief, as destroying cattle, and raising storms 
 
 •■ I ip 
 
 20. The method they had of testing whether a person was a 
 
 jwhattheyialhd trial by ordeal. This sort of judg- 
 
 , menl v. I nol onlyiu if witchcraft, but in 
 
 other trials. Instead of doing as we do, hearing the 
 
 evidence "f all the people who know anything about, the matter, 
 
 riving in every way to find out the truth, they imagined 
 
 rn it by curious and horrid experiments. One way 
 
 throw the reputed witch into a pond or stream, and see if 
 
 would -ink or swim. Unfortunately, in this particular trial, 
 
 1 that if she were innocent she would sink, but if 
 
 he would float, because a body with an evil spirit in it is 
 
 than water, so that the] rcreatu ery little chance 
 
 pe either wa; Even now one sometimes hears, in very 
 
 ■ 1 and i. • country places, of some poor old woman 
 
 being "dm for a witch;" this was the beginning of the 
 
 21. Another way of trying by ordeal was to lay nineburning- 
 
 n the ground, and bring the suspected person
 
 xi.] DUNSTAN. 103 
 
 barefoot and blindfold to walk over them. If he chanced to step 
 over them or among them unhurt he was said to he innocent; 
 hut if he got burnt, then he was guilty. Another way was to 
 carry a piece of hot iron in the hand, or to dip the hand in hoil- 
 ing water; if the person was much hurt he was guilty, hut if 
 1 1 < > t he was innocent. All this sounds truly absurd to us, hut 
 the original meaning of it is not so absurd. In doing these 
 things they intended to be appealing to God to show the truth. 
 The ceremonies began with prayers; the person who was to be 
 tried fasted and received the sacrament beforehand ; in fact, it 
 was a solemn and religious affair. We know now that God does 
 interfere in this manner to reveal truths, but leaves us to use 
 our best judgment and conscience; but at that time people 
 thought God did constantly interfere in human a Hairs ; and, 
 doubtless, many an innocent person appealed to the ordeal in full 
 trust that his innocence would be shown forth, and many a one 
 must have been bitterly disappointed. 
 
 i!'.'. A great deal was also made of lucky and unlucky days 
 (perhaps this is not quite out of date either). There were cer- 
 tain days when it would be dangerous to bleed people; others 
 when it was had to sow seeds, >>v to tame animals or to begin 
 a businese ; and other days when it was fortunate to do any 
 of those things. " Whatever you see at the first appearance of 
 the new moon will he a blessing to you." " If a man dreams 
 that he hath a burning candle in his hand it is a sign of good." 
 
 '•If New Fear's Day he on a Monday it will he a grim and 
 confounding winter." All this must have made ii very difficult 
 to carry on the business of life ; people always fell at, the mercy 
 of mysterious powers over which they had no control. 
 
 23. It was believed, and this belief also went on for many 
 centuries, that eclipses of tie- bud and moon, and comets foretold 
 and generally dreadful events. It is hardly 
 
 correct, however, to ■ !}' Comets, lor most of them Eclipses 
 thought there was only one such -"the star called 
 
 meta," which made its appearance on special occasions. It 
 i i ither amusing to see tie gra^ ity and wisdom with which they 
 write on this subject. Ethelwerd, who has been mentioned 
 before, who belonged to the royal family, ami was remarkably well 
 educated for a layman, saj that in a certain year, "after Easter, 
 a cornel appeared, which Borne think to lie an omen of foul times 
 which have already past ; but it is the moat approved tlieory of 
 philosophers tl"ii they foretell future things, as ha been tried in 
 many ir<rij.<."
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE XII.— THE UNREADY. 
 
 The Bona of Edgar. The battle of Maldon. Tribute to the Danes. 
 Massacre of St. Briuswend. Ethelred's flight. Normandy and the 
 Normans. Edmund Ironside. 
 
 ]. Edgab the Peaceable was only thirty-two years old when 
 
 he died. He left two young sons: Edward, by his 
 
 9"5. firal wife, and Ethelred by the second. There id 
 
 h^Ma^-r vep y linl '' ll " ul,t ,ll;lt tlie 1jeautiiul and wicked 
 ar >r Elfrida caused her step-son Edward to be murdered, 
 
 in order that hei own boy Ethelred might be king. Edward, 
 though only seventeen at the time of Ins death, had given pro- 
 mise of being a good and wise king, but we cannot see that 
 he was in any Bense a martyr, as lie was afterwards called by t. l ie 
 pity of the people. 
 
 2. Unfortunately for the country, the next king, for whose 
 Bake Edward was murdered, and who was the weakest and most 
 unkingly sovereign England had ever known, had a 
 Ethelred the v ,.,. v j 0Q g n . ;,_,,, f thirty-eight years. This was the 
 »• second Ethelred, " the noble in counsel." His sur- 
 name, very unlike the high-sounding ones of those who went 
 :•• him, the Magnificent or the Excellent, was "the Un- 
 !v." It is a very good and apl name even as we understand 
 ■ut it really meant "the uncounselled " or unwise — "red" 
 innsi 1 ;" bo that it was a kind of play upon his real 
 name. 
 
 II a young boy, only ten years old, when he 
 
 ime k hi_ r . and the troubles began almost directly. We hear 
 
 no more now i ajreat fleet which used to sad round the 
 
 •d.u ar, in Edgar's time, to keep invaders off. The 
 
 Danes began to land again, and ravage and plunder as of old. 
 
 ipton was ravaged, and Thanet-land, and Cheshire; 
 
 Portland and Dorsetshire. Alter that there were a 
 
 f peace; then they came bo Somersetshire, and then 
 
 1 and to . Ethelred was by this time a grown 
 
 man, twenty-two years old — just the same age that Allied
 
 xii.] THE UNREADY. 105 
 
 was when he fought the battle of Ashdune. But how different 
 was he from Alfred ! He did not come to lead his men to fight 
 the heathen robbers. He left them to tight without him. 
 Though the king was not there, however, when the Danes 
 came to Essex, there was a brave alderman and a splendid fight ; 
 but, alas ! the alderman was killed, and the Danes conquered. 
 
 4. It is worth while to learn something about this battle, of 
 which we have the description in one of the finest of our old 
 English poems. For one thing, it is interesting to 
 
 notice how different the way of fighting was in those 991. 
 daya from what it is at present. Xow that we have Maldon. 
 cannon and gunpowder, a great deal of the fighting is 
 done from a long way off; the guns carry such an immense dis- 
 tance that the soldiers can hardly see those whom they are 
 killing. But at that time it was hand-to-hand fighting, and 
 every man's own courage and skill were tested. It is now judged 
 best for the general of an army to be a little out of the fray, 
 perhaps standing on a hill with a telescope, overlooking the 
 whole, and sending his officers and aides-de-camps galloping with 
 his orders and messages in all directions where it is necessary. 
 In those days the armies were nol nearly bo large, and the generals 
 of the English always fought on font with their men. They 
 would come to the field on horseback, and then dismount. 
 
 5. The alderman or earl who led the fight at Maldon was 
 named Brihtnoth. This was the man whose wife had his great 
 deeds worked in needlework on a tapestry. The last of those 
 
 d Is was this fight for his country, in which he was killed. 
 
 He rode to the field on horseback, and set his army in array — - 
 "trimmed his warriors," as the poel calls it. He rode round 
 and "rede gave," that is, gave advice how they should stand, 
 and keep steady, and hold their shields firm, and "at nothing 
 frightened be." Then he gol off his horse, and went, and stood 
 among bis own special followers. Just as a king had his 
 
 ii friends and comrades who followed him to danger and 
 glory, and whose most Bacred duty was to defend and honour 
 him, so bad a great earl or alderman too j and if the Leader were 
 brave and noble these followera were devoted to him thro 
 life and deal b. 
 
 6. Brihtnoth then, when he had fairly trimmed the army, 
 
 went and si 1 "among the men thai to him dearest were"— his 
 
 faithful hearth-bands; men that had often feasted round his 
 hearth, and to whom he had given rich rewards, such as they 
 most prized; b L bracelets, and rings. Some of them
 
 106 LKCTl'KES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lEfltf 
 
 were young noblemen, his own relations ; but, at least, one was 
 
 a churl - a brave fellow, as brave aa all the rest. Now they were 
 
 all ready to fight ; the English on the one side, ihe heathen 
 
 a the other. But firal the Danes, or Vikings, as they 
 
 are aom( called, Bent a herald or messenger to the carl. 
 
 The was that the earl and the other rich men had 
 
 r make peace by sending to the enemy bracelets and money. 
 
 If they would agree to that, then the Danes would go to their 
 
 ships again. We can easily guess what answer the brave old 
 
 Englishman made. He was very angry; he shook Ins spear, hut 
 
 I oswered steadfastly, " Hearest thou, seafarer, what tins folk 
 
 th.1 they will give you for money spears and sharp-edged 
 
 Bwords. ' ro hark again, messenger, to thy people, and tell them 
 
 tand undaunted an earl with his hand that will 
 
 i 1 this our land. Nor shall ye so easily win our treasures; 
 
 point and edge (t. e. spear and sword) shall judge between us 
 
 first ere we money give." 
 
 7. S i then the light began, the shouting, the rush, and the 
 tumult. The man who wrote the poem must, one thinks, have 
 there to hear, for he (ells it so vividly; he tells, too, how 
 the • !id ravens gathered round, expecting the feast they 
 
 would have on the dead bodies. At last the brave earl was 
 wounded, bul he still went on fighting with his men around him. 
 He killed one or two more of the enemies, and "then was the 
 earl blithe; the brave man laughed and gave thanks to his 
 Ma'. at length he was so badly wounded that he 
 
 could no longer hold his sword nor stand fast on his feet. H« 
 
 died as a brave and g 1 man should ; he ppoke a word of 
 
 at to hi- < trades, and then he turned to God. 
 
 ere his last words, very nearly as the song gives them : 
 
 •• 1 thank Ti Ruler of nations, for all the good things that, in 
 
 Id, I have enjoyed. y,ow I own, mild Maker, that I 
 that Thou should est grant good to my spirit, that 
 
 . may now make it,, way to Thee, may .journey in peace, 
 
 • ■ I by kingdom, Lord of at I praj Thee that the fiends of 
 
 hell m iy never hurt, it.'' Then he died, and a great fight took 
 
 \ er his body. 
 
 B. Tn< Dam wanted to take his robe, his bracelets, and his 
 
 id to mangle his body. His own men were resolved at 
 
 his body. Some of them were killed; two of them 
 
 considered beyond words disgraceful. As the 
 
 1 1 idric from the battle went, and forsook the good 
 
 ften given him hoi He even went so far as
 
 xii.] THE UNREADY. 107 
 
 to leap on the earl's own horse and ride away on it, so that those 
 who did not know thought it was the earl himself fleeing, and 
 it wa3, perhaps, through that that the battle was finally lost. 
 
 9. But these two were the only cowards. When the rest of 
 his hearth-comrades saw that their lord lay dead, they all then 
 wished for one of two things — they would either die or avenge 
 the loved one. One bold young fellow started forward and 
 reminded them how they had often made gallant and boastful 
 speeches as they sate feasting and drinking mead; then they 
 
 ■ "heroes in hall," but now there was hard fight all round, 
 and now they would know who Avas a real hero. Another was 
 am old man, who said, "I am old of life, and hence I will not stir ; 
 I intend to lie by the side of my lord, of such a loved man." 
 Then another and another said they would lie dead by the side 
 of their lord sooner than yield or flee. One of them said he 
 bad agreed with his lord before they came to battle that they 
 would both ride home together safe and victorious, or both lie 
 
 1 on the field, and now he meant to keep his word. 
 
 10. In spite of all their heroism the battle was lost, but the 
 enemy could not cany off the body of the earl. He was buried 
 al Ely, where there was a gveal monastery to which he had given 
 man; and to which bis widow presented the famous needle- 
 work with the story of bis life. 
 
 1 1. Th ription of this battle gives us a splendid idea of 
 the fidelity and devotion which brave men felt for a good lord. 
 
 I too how much depended on whether their chief was in 
 
 truth a valiant and heroic man worthy of their trust. Though 
 the Danes gained the victory in this fight, it was a hard-won 
 victory, and they would not have won many such. We are now 
 going to bear of gri ortunes and disgraces which befell the 
 
 English. Nearly all of them came, from the bad leaders they 
 had. Had their king been like Alfred, had their earls been like 
 Brihtnoth, the history would have been very different, 
 
 12. The king and his i n sellors could think of no better way 
 
 tting iid of the enemies than by paying them. We saw 
 
 how Brihtnoth scorned the idea of Riving money or 
 anything hot good blows with spears and sword n. But ' , ■ 
 
 in this very same year We read in the 'Chronicle, 1 bribes the 
 
 '■ It was Hi i decreed that tribute should he paid to Dunes. 
 the Dani li men ,,u account of the greal terror which 
 they can i . I i,;, i be I ; that b £10,0 10," a very 
 
 large sum at thai time, it wa e whal would come 
 
 of this new plan. As Boon as the Danes had spent the money
 
 108 LKt'TTUKS ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 they were sure to come back for more, and so they did. And 
 thus it went on all through the (Jnready's reign. 
 
 13. Sometimes when the Danes came, the king and the people 
 attempted to resist them, but very Beldora to any purpose. Some 
 of the . rls turned traitors and sided with the Danes, or 
 just when a great battle was beginning, they would flee away 
 with their followers. It must be remembered, as partly explain- 
 ing this, that BOme of these very earls were naturalized Danes, 
 and had relations among the enemy's host. Others had probably 
 married I Danish ladies. 
 
 14. Then the king would try to make peace by paying great 
 sums of money to the Danes. A few more extracts from the 
 •i Ihronicle' will show how miserably everything was managed or 
 mismanaged. 
 
 •• L001. The army (that is, the Danes) went over the land 
 and did as was their wont, slew and burned; ... it was 
 then in every wise Bad, because they never ceased from their 
 evil. 
 
 •• 1002. In this year the king and his witan resolved that 
 tribute should be paid, and peace made with them, on con- 
 dition that they -lioiild cease from their evil . . . And that 
 they then accepted, and wire paid L'-4,000. 
 
 •• 1'iiiG. At midwinter the people of Winchester might see 
 
 an insolent and fearless army, as they went by their gate to the 
 
 ; tched them food and treasures, over fifty miles from 
 
 Then was there bo great awe of the (Danish) army 
 
 that no mid think or devise how they should be driven 
 
 intry. . . . They had cruelly marked every shire in 
 
 VV( - ••■•: with burning and with harrying. The king then began 
 
 with his witan earnestly to consider what might seem most 
 
 i them all, so that this country might be protected 
 
 it was totally undone." They decided, as usual, on nothing 
 
 than paying tribute again, This time it was .£36,0<ii) • 
 
 time, Uter on, i.' 18,000. 
 
 1 -V II tie . did trj ■ or an army together 
 
 -.vent wrong; Bome of the leaders were foolish, others 
 
 trea . Altera disaster at sea, in which some 
 
 bad en wrecked, " beal and thrashed all to 
 
 pieces," th< icier writes in a sort of despair, 
 
 't an end, and tin; king and the 
 
 i and the high witan went home, and let the toil of all 
 
 lightly perish." Another year, when they had got a 
 
 ther, and the force was wanted to oppose the
 
 xu.] THE UNREADY. 109 
 
 Danes' landing, " then the force went home; and when the Danes 
 east then was our force held west, and when they were 
 south then was our force north. At last there was not a chief 
 man left who would gather a force, but each fled as he best 
 might; nor even at last would any shire assist another. All 
 • calamities befell us through evil counsels. For all this 
 peace and tribute, they went everywhere in flocks and harried 
 our miserable people, and robbed and slew them." 
 
 16. This gives us a sort of general picture of the reign of 
 I ilred ; but there is one exception to all the cowardice and 
 blundering. It is very interesting to see how brave 
 
 T Art A am 
 
 the Londoners were. Even at this time, 900 yens 
 i _ . London was a large and important city. Not, of course, that 
 it was nearly as large as it is now. In places now crowded with 
 streets and squares there were green fields and woods. In other 
 parts there wen; wild fens and moors, which have given their 
 names to Fenchurch Street, Moorgate Street, and Moorfields. 
 But Loudon is now bo huge and enormous that there is no other 
 such city in the world ; and though small then to what it is 
 now, it was thriving and busy, and, for those times, a large 
 city. It was already a great place for merchants. The Romans 
 had given it a Latin name, "Augusta," hut that dropped off, 
 and the old British name of London has lasted on through 
 all these years. King Alfred had rescued it from the Danes, 
 and built a fort to protect it, where lie 1 Tower of London 
 stands. The Londoners must have been line fellows; 
 they were brave, rich, and free; and though tie' Danes (•■•mi'' 
 .;->t them and sei upon them again and again, they were 
 b n back by tie- citizens. London seems to have been 
 besieged in vain four times during this reign. 
 
 17. The heathen had now two great leaders, one the; King of 
 
 . and "tie the King <>f Denmark. Olaf, the King of 
 way, had a curious history, f'>r it seems that 
 while he was in the British [ales he learnt Christi- °«! af ft " d 
 anity. Some think it, was in the [$les of Scilly, oth 
 in the [gles of Orkney. Whoever wrote the history perhaps did 
 not know his geography very well. Wherever it might be, he 
 was baptized; and after one of tie 1 tribute payings and truces of 
 ! ilred he was confirmed by Bome of the English bishops, and 
 was i' eived in a very friendly and royal manner by Ethelred, 
 wh i gave him handsome pre ante. He then " promised, as he 
 also fulfilled, that he would never come again with hostility to 
 England." Ee had Christianity enough to keep his word. II
 
 110 LECTURES ON ENGLISH BISTORT. [leot. 
 
 wenl I i Norway, and spent the rest of his life, it appears, in 
 
 converting his kingdom to bis new religion, though he did this 
 in a very harsh and cruel way. But we have no more to do 
 with him in English history. 
 
 18. The other king, Swend or Swegen the Dane, was not so 
 easily go! rid of. Be went away for a time when Olaf did, hut 
 he afterwards came back ; we cannot say without provocation, 
 t tr Ethelred, who in general could think of nothing better than 
 paying tribute, at Lasl bethought him of another plan, as unwise 
 as it was wicked. This was no other than a general massacre of 
 all the Danes in England, though there was now a peace between 
 
 them and the English. What s] ial provocation, if any, they 
 
 had given, is nol very clear. The ' ' ihronicle' says, "It had been 
 made known to the kino that they would plot against his life, 
 and afterwards those of all his witan," but we do not know how 
 
 far ir is true. It appears, however, that the king 
 
 1002 i i 
 
 „ • , sent letters secretly through thecountry to appoint 
 
 the Danes. a '^ ''"' n&assacres to take place on the same day, and 
 all the English heartily hated the Danes, these 
 orders were obeyed Among the Danes who were killed was 
 a lady, Swend's Bister, who was in England with her husband 
 and son. It is said that these two were killed before her eyes, 
 and that when Bhe herself was dying she prophesied that great 
 .1 vengeance would come upon the English. 
 
 19. And next year the prophecy began to he fulfilled. Swend 
 
 i avenge his sister and his countrymen, and 
 the sacking and burning wenl on as before for manv 
 
 1003 
 
 Th _ " , 3 :ne time alter this the Danes besieged 
 
 revenge. Canterbury and took it. They seized on the arch- 
 bishop, who appears to have been a very good man, 
 who confirmed I Haf. They took him to their ships, 
 which were lying in the Th ones near Greenwich, and kept him 
 from about Michaelmas till the following Master, 
 iod ransom would be paid for him. 
 .I 012 - a th- Saturday after Easter they were 
 
 of u ^ h ® r i Kcited against the bishop because he 
 
 archbishop, would not promise them any money, bat forbade 
 that anything should be given for him." He would 
 tor people, who dready bo miserable and so 
 
 'taxed, I any more to gel money for him. The 
 
 the l» ■• drunken j they took him 
 
 h "and shamefully mu him; they pelted him 
 
 in 1 the skulls of oxen, and one of them struck him
 
 xii.] THE UNREADY. Ill 
 
 on the head with an axe, so that with the dint lie sank down, 
 and his holy blood fell on the earth, and his holy soul he sent 
 forth to God's kingdom." He was first buried in London, where, 
 says the ' Chronicle,' " God now manifests the holy martyr's 
 miracles." And the principal church in Greenwich, St. Alphege, 
 was named after him ; but a few years afterwards his body was 
 carried to his own church at Canterbury with all honour, as we 
 shall see. 
 
 20. It was not Swend who took Canterbury; he was not in 
 England just then ; but the next year he returned with a splen- 
 did fleet, and bringing with him his son Cnut (or Canute). 
 They say his ships were beautifully adorned with figures of men 
 and animals, birds and dragons, lion*, bulls, and dolphins, in 
 gold, silver, and amber. After some fearful cruelties and very 
 little resistance from anybody except the Londoners he mastered 
 
 pthiog and everybody, and was actually acknowledged king 
 of England. 
 
 21. Thus at last the Danes conquered, after all these hundreds 
 of years' lighting. Even London had now to submit. 
 
 The queen, Ethelred's wife, fled over the sea ; then „. 2* 
 the two young princes, her sons, followed, and next triumph. 
 Ethelred himself. 
 
 22. We must pause here to learn a little of the place and peo- 
 i whom they fled, bee shall have to hear a great deal 
 
 more about them by and bye. Queen Emma was a 
 
 foreign lady, the daughter of the Duke of Normandy, • ll0r, » M,i " 
 
 This country is of course pari of Prance, but yet the Normans 
 
 ■ not redly Franks, nor wen; they Gauls or Celts; they 
 
 were in ry near n to the English and to the Danes. 
 
 Just as the Danes used to <'m>- plundering to England, and at 
 
 Led down in parts of the country, and gradually became 
 
 Englishmen, so they also wenl plundering to France, and al last 
 
 settled down there and became Frenchmen, Only they wen- aot 
 
 called " Danes," but Northmen, which was really a better oame, 
 
 were not ] ■ .■ . all from Denmark ; tnanj from 
 
 Sweden and from N 
 
 Alfred made peace with Guthorm, and let him rule as an 
 under-king in a great part of England, the king of the French 
 madi with the leader of the Northmen, and lei aim settle 
 
 down in a pari ii l mce, which run- to be called Normandy, 
 and the Northmen Normans. After settling there they be< 
 Christians, and, dropping their old speech, learnt to talk French, 
 which was a much I than foi tho e in I □ land to
 
 112 LECTURES ON ENGLISE HISTORY. [lkct. 
 
 lean lish. The Duke of Normandy was under the 
 
 French king; he waa his vassal, and though not called "king," 
 he waa in faci a9 powerful as one. 
 
 . Ethelred, then, had married Emma, the daughter of one 
 of the dukea of Normandy, who was what we may cull a French 
 lady. When she came to England she had to receive a new 
 name, because "Emma" sounded so outlandish and foreign. 
 She was called by the old English name of Elfgifu (the fairies' 
 i, which sounds rather outlandish and foreign to us now. So, 
 in their trouble, she and her husband and children took refuge 
 with her brother the Duke of Normandy, her father being 
 dead by this time, and there the two young princes were 
 educ ited. 
 
 24. But Ethelred did nol stay long in Normandy ; Swend had 
 hardly been made king bef he died. There is a singular tale 
 
 ab >ut his death. We all remember St. Edmund, the 
 
 D 101 *' under-king of Easl A.nglia, whom the Danes had so 
 
 Sweud. cruelly murdered nearly 150 years before. It seems 
 
 thai Swend had a special hatred for his memory, and 
 
 how it be demanded a heavy tribute from the church which 
 
 been built in his honour al Bury St. Edmund's. He threatened 
 
 if it were not paid he would burn the church and the town, and 
 
 I th( clergy to 'hath by torture. Be had even set forth on his 
 
 march for this purpose, like Saul, " breathing out threatenings 
 
 and slaughter," when he Baw in a rision the martyred Edmund 
 
 com [net him, clothed in armour, and a spear in his hand. 
 
 "Help," he cried, " fellow-soldiers 1 St. Edmund is coming to 
 
 slay me." He fell from his horse and died the same night, 
 
 ■e- believing that thesaint had pierced him with his spear. 
 
 • how this story might arise and he spread abroad 
 
 in all good faith. Swen 1 might have been already ill and half 
 
 delirious when he I forth. He very likely partly believed in 
 
 Christianity, and in his excitement thought he beheld the figure 
 
 of the ind his foil who all heard his cry, would 
 
 readily believe in I that it was a real vision and a 
 
 r.-al miracle. 
 
 25. When he was dead, leaving only his young son of nine- 
 behind him, the English thought of Ethelred again, and 
 
 sent after him to Normandy. The 'Chronicle' tells of 
 
 returns, the messages they exchanged. The wise men s-tid 
 
 tii it "to them no lord was dearer than their natural 
 
 if he Would rule them better than he had done before."
 
 xii ] THE UNREADY. 113 
 
 Ethelred, in return, sent messages to " greet all his people, and 
 said that he would be to them a kind lord, and amend all those 
 things which they abhorred, and all the things should be forgiven 
 which had been done or said to him, on condition that they all, 
 with one mind, and without treachery, would turn to him." So 
 he returned home to his own people, and was gladly received by 
 all. 
 
 26. He really seems now to have done his best. There was a 
 great meeting of the witan, where they made many good and 
 pious resolutions ; and then he marched against young Cnut, 
 and drove him away for the time. Ethelred lived but two years 
 longer; and he had a brave and noble son to help him now. 
 This was not one of Emma's children, — we shall 
 
 hear more of them in due time, — but a son of E dmun d 
 Ethelred by his first wife — Edmund, who was sur- ronsi e ' 
 named Ironside because of his strength and courage. He was 
 indeed a contrast to his feeble father. He went about in the 
 mo8l wonderfully energetic way. gathering armies and trying to 
 put Bome spirit into the disheartened people. 
 
 27. Cnut soon came buck again with another splendid fleet, 
 and the war went on. Ethelred fell back into being as weak 
 and wavering as ever. Cnut gained great victories, 
 
 and when Ethelred died, which he happily did at i; 016- 
 
 My of the witan chose Cnut to be 
 king. But the Londoners had something to say to that ; they 
 held an assembly of their own. and elected Edmund Ironside. 
 8o there were two kings, an Englishman and a Dane; both 
 of them young, clever, brave, and neither of them likely to 
 give in to the other. Now followed seven months, in which 
 London was besieged three times by the Danes, but never taken; 
 and in which the English and Danes had six great battles. Four 
 times at Leasi oui of the ■ Edmund Ironside won flic victory j 
 but in the Bixth, after a gallant fight, the Danes were victorious, 
 and Edmuod had to flee. He was nni at all out of hear! ; b ■ 
 was quite ready for a seventh battle, with a fresh army, when 
 tic •• wise men " interposed and brought about a peace. 
 
 The two • rings met. They had bj this time each 
 
 a omething to respect in the other, and both must have felt 
 thai it would be do easy matter fully to conquer and subdue the 
 other. So they behaved with great courtesy, called i ich other 
 brothers, and agreed to divide the kingdom between them. 
 Edmund had all England south of the Thame , East in t Lia, 
 
 i
 
 lit LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 \. and London. Cnul had all the rest; but it seems that 
 . mund was to be his " over-lord." 
 
 •_".'. This did not last, for before the year was over the 
 .•• Edmund, the lasi worthy desc< udanl of Egbert and Alfred, 
 
 died. ][d\v lie died is not exactly known. Some 
 n h t Sl ''^ '"' w;is ,lllir '''' lv 'l : Bome think lie was worn out 
 Edmund ^y ''' s a l"" |v ' superhuman exertions. But when he 
 
 diedCnut the L)ane became king of all England.
 
 xiii.": CXUT. 115 
 
 LECTURE XIIL— CXUT. 
 
 A Danish king — his fierce beginning — his reform — his religion — pilgrimage 
 to Rome — his letter — his sons. 
 
 i. Cxut did not wish to appear a usurper, or one who had 
 taken a kingdom to which he had no right ; nor did he wish 
 only to seem a conqueror, having seized on the king- 
 dom by force. There were no strict rides then, as 
 there are now, about who should succeed to the throne. If 
 the king when he died left a brave son already grown up, it 
 was almost sure he would be chosen, as Alfred's son Edward 
 was ; but if he left only young children, then one of their 
 uncles would very likely be made king instead. In those 
 days, as we have seen in the last reign, it was of the very 
 greatest importance to have a king who was a real leadei 
 and ruler. The fortunes of all the people much depended on 
 hi in and his personal character. In our days this does not 
 matter nearly so much. The Houses of Parliament, and the 
 ministers in whom they have confidence, and whom we may say 
 they really appoint, govern the country, make, the laws, and lay- 
 on the taxes. Tim kin^ or queen cannot do anything without 
 their good-wilL It, is still a very happy thing for the country 
 
 to have a good and wise king or qi a, because they have great 
 
 influence, and by their example lead the people to some extenl ; 
 
 CUE queen all through her reign has set an example of a g 1 
 
 and pure life, and so has had a thoroughly beneficial influence; 
 while a bad, selfish, and immoral sovereign would set a bad 
 example, and have a thoroughly evil influence. But neither 
 one nor the other could make or unmake laws, or lay on taxes, 
 or govern in any way according to their own will or pleasure, 
 
 2. In the e old timet the king had indeed to con ulthis witan 
 or wise men ; but in general it. seems that, he made all the plans, 
 proposed the laws, and Laid them before the wise men to discuss, 
 and approve or disapprove. This is why ii was better in tho e 
 
 days to have ii" hard and fast rule as to which of the royal family 
 
 I 2
 
 116 LECTURES OH ENGLISH HISTORY. Elect. 
 
 phould be king, because it left the power of choosing him who 
 was likely to be the wisest and best ruler. The king himself 
 often pointed oul whom he wished to succeed him, and this was 
 idered to give him a certain claim. In the present day it is 
 6xed quite clearly thai the eldesl son and his eldest son succeed 
 the throne; or it he have no son, then his dan-liter. Our 
 own queen was a young girl of eighteen when she came to the 
 no, although Bhe had grown-up uncles. This would not have 
 happened at the time we are speaking of now; no doubt she 
 would have been passed over, and a strongman made king. But 
 in our day it did not matter; the government oi the country 
 t on just as well. 
 ... The English then were accustomed to elect their kings, 
 igh always hitherto they had been chosen from their own 
 royal family, and until the tune of Swend it was a most 
 unheard-of thing for a man not of that family, not even an 
 Englishman at all, to he king of England. But Cnut, who had 
 idy half the kingdom, would nut appear to take forcible 
 --ion nf the rest. He assembled the wise men, and laid 
 bis claim before them. There were several princes of the Eng- 
 lish royal family left, though Edmund Ironside was dead. He 
 had hit two little sons, hut no one would be likely to wish to 
 make one of them k i r i •_' . lie had also left some brothers — one of 
 them, Edwy (or Eadwig), a grown young man of high character 
 and well esteemed; beside his two half-brothers, Edward and 
 Alfred, who were, still very young* and were being brought up 
 in Normandy. 
 
 l. Even if the wise men had wished to make Edwy king 
 
 would hardly have dared to propose it, Cnut being so 
 
 • rtul; but perhaps they had grown tired of all the endless. 
 
 thought it best to give in at last. At any rate they 
 
 ■ ver all these princes, ethelings, as they were culled, and 
 
 'nut had a right to the whole kingdom. 
 
 beginning of his reign ''nut, showed a very fierce 
 
 ..int. He was determined to be and to remain king 
 
 Cnufa "' England j and though he bad been elected by the 
 
 cruelties. w ' t;i "> he Could not he easy while so many of the 
 
 d family remained alive. If not dangerous now, 
 
 felt tint tn nt be so bj and bye. Still he did not 
 
 '].'•' like to app oi open murderer. He outlawed the 
 
 n up prince Edwy, and before the year was past he died ; 
 
 it v I that ('nut had him privately murdered. He 
 
 sent Edmund Ironside's little .sons out of the country to bis
 
 xin.] CNUT. 117 
 
 own half-brother, the King of Sweden, in order that he might 
 privately make away with them. Eat the Swedish king had 
 pity on the innocent children, and instead of killing them sent 
 them off to the distant land of Hungary, where there was a very 
 good king, Stephen, who was afterwards called St. Stephen. He 
 received t he children kindly, and brought them up well and 
 honourably. One died young, but the other grew up and 
 married a relation of the Queen of Hungary, named Agatha, and 
 he lived to see England once more. 
 
 6. Cnut next put to death some of the English noblemen ; we 
 cannot exactly say why ; but probably he thought they would in 
 some way endanger his throne. And about the same time he sent, 
 for Queen Emma, the widow of Ethelred the Unready, and married 
 her. SIp- was much older than he was, but they say she was 
 very beautiful. It seems that she now quite forsook her two sons 
 Edward ami Alfred, who continued in Normandy ; and she and 
 Cnut agreed that if she had a son by him he should succeed to 
 tli'- throne of England, and so it afterwards was. 
 
 7. But though Cnut began his reign in this cruel manner, and 
 might have been expect* d to be a very bad king, it turned out 
 quite differently. An Italian author, who hundreds of years 
 
 : this time wrot.- a clever but wicked book called 'The 
 Prince,' gives advice to kings and rulers how to govern. One 
 of advice is that they should "do all their cruelties at first," 
 because then afterwards people will feel so thankful to them if 
 t.h<-v are merciful and just. Whether Cnut had any 
 idea that in his head, or whether his character 
 
 f improved, is not quite clear, but the Latter appears most 
 probable. He was professedly a Christian, and had been already 
 baptized ; and after this terrible beginning we hear no more of 
 cruelty in England. 
 
 8. One might have expected that he would set, up his Danish 
 folio the English; but no— he favoured the English 
 
 in every way. He Sent away almost, all his ships and their 
 
 crews back again to Denmark* and he assembled the English 
 witan to consult upon the government of the country. There 
 Were already many Dam i tablished in England, who con- 
 tinued to live there peaceably, and both these Danes and the 
 English looked back to the time when they had Las! had a 
 good kin'_', peace, justice, and order, and longed to be governed 
 
 as they had been then. This •; I king to whom they all 
 
 ed hack w.i Edgar the Peaceable, who, as was mentioned, 
 had been just and kind to the hare- , i well as to the English.
 
 118 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 his memory was honoured, and both Danes and English 
 wished to be governed by " Edgar's law." Cnut and tin' wise 
 greed to their desire. Cnut was as just to the English as 
 ; ,r had been to the Danes; and now England had peace 
 sixteen years. 
 :>. At tins time we first begin l<> hear of Karl Godwine, an 
 lishman, whom weshall mot. again afterwards. Cnut seems 
 In have liked and favoured him very much, and he 
 o wine. Decame jjj t j I1|( . -tin- mosi powerful snhject in all 
 land. Nobody quite knows who he was to begin with, or 
 wh. i his father was. ( hie story is that his father was a wealthy 
 chuil mi- farmer in ( iloucestershire. Some time during the 
 D rush earl, Cnut's brother-in-law, who was going to the 
 1 1 uii~.li ships, lost bis way. lie met a handsome young man 
 diivinc eat lie, and asked him to guide him to the sea. The 
 young min said it would be very dangerous to do that, for the 
 I lish were much enraged against the Danes, but he would try 
 i what he could. I be I lanish earl offered him a gold ring, 
 be would not accept it until he hail earned it, and he said 
 if ho succeeded the earl might reward him at his pleasure. 
 So he took the earl home to his father's house, which was 
 a plain, comfortable dwelling, with plenty of good food and 
 drink. The earl wa much pleased with everything and every- 
 body, and staved there all the next day, and at night he and 
 
 young mm started nil' on two ;_ r I horses to find their way 
 
 bips. After riding all night they arrived .safely at the 
 re, and the earl was bo delighted with his young guide, who 
 
 r and pleasant talker as well as good-looking, that lie 
 
 adopted him almost as a son. He presented him to Cnut, and 
 in time' be rose to honour, and married the earl's sister. 
 
 'fin- young man was Godwine, whom we find in great trust and 
 favour during the- reign of ('nut. 
 
 10. Cnut not only favoured the English nobles at home, he 
 i made the Danish people jealous by appointing English 
 gymen to 1"- bishops in I »■■ 1 1 mn 1 1:. He was king of that 
 
 as well as of England, and afterwards got posses- 
 ■■: \ rway and Sweden also, hut he always liked England 
 
 11. He now showed himself a very zealous Christian, accord- 
 to the ideas of ' mes. He built a line church or 
 
 min -t i i andun, the place of his sixth battle with 
 
 Edmund Ironside, where he had won the victory. 
 He was also rery anxious to appease the saints and
 
 xiii.] CXUT. 119 
 
 martyrs •whom his people had killed. One of these was St. 
 Edmund, who was supposed to have caused the death of Swend, 
 Cnut's father. Cnut, no doubt, fully believed that tale ; so he 
 repaired and greatly favoured the minster of Bury St. Edmund, 
 which his father had been about to destroy ; and he also restored 
 and enriched another in honour of St. Benedict. Old Sir 
 Bichard Baker says he built " the abbey of St. Benet's, which 
 saint he greatly reverenced, and in Suffolk the monastery of St. 
 Edmund, which saint he deadly feared." He also paid great 
 honour to St. Elfheah, or Alphege, that Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury whom the Danes killed at Greenwich. He had been buried 
 at St. Paul's in London ; but now his body was carried, with 
 .,'ieat glory and ceremonj'', back to the mother-church at Canter- 
 bury. The ' Chronicle ' says, " The renowned king, and the arch- 
 bishop, and the suffragan bishops, and earls, and very many men 
 in orders, and also laymen, conveyed in a ship his holy body on 
 the Thames to Southwark ; . . . and they then, with an honour- 
 able band and winsome joy, conveyed him to Rochester. Then, 
 ■ in the third day, came Emma, the lady, with her royal child, 
 Harthacnut, and they then all, with great magnificence, and 
 bliss, and Bong <>( praise, conveyed the holy archbishop into 
 Canterbury." And there he was buried, and many people used 
 to go iid pray at his tomb. 
 
 1 -. Cnut also went to do honour to the grave of Edmund 
 [ronside. Hi- had been buried at Glastonbury, where the first 
 little Christian church had hem built by the Britons, and where 
 Dunstan had afterwards raised a much finer one. Wo are told 
 thai Cnut knelt and prayed beside Edmund's tomb, and covered 
 it with a splendid robe, beautifully embroidered with peacocks. 
 (It would have been more to the purpose had he shown kind- 
 ness to poor Edmund's little sons, but they were safe in Hungary 
 by : bJ time.) 
 
 13. Cnut, like Alfred, was fond of hearing Church music. It 
 
 that one of his favourite monasteries was Ely, when' 
 
 Alderman Brihtnoth was buried, and that one day, as be was 
 
 I it in a boat, be beard the monks Binging, and was so 
 
 pleased that be could qoI resi t making a poem about it. Thia 
 
 ■ i mi I iii. .ii of the fii i \> \ e : — 
 
 "Merrily san^ tin: monks of Illy 
 A I 'mil tbi kin:/ was passing by. 
 ■ How to Hi" shore, men,' s:iiil the kin ■■ 
 ' And Let as hi ii th< ie churchmi n ling.' " 
 
 W cannot say this is very beautiful poetry, but it appears to
 
 120 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 have been much liked at the time, foi it is reported that it was 
 afterwards sung in churches as a hymn. Perhaps this was done 
 as a little llattcrv. We all know the story of Cnut and his 
 flatterers by the seaside ; but there is another tale about him 
 which, it' true, Bhows that at one time, at any rate, he liked 
 praise and admiration. A poet, or minstrel, had made a short 
 
 ] in about the king, and went to sing or repeat it to him. He 
 
 found the king just finishing dinner, the very time when a 
 minstrel oigleeman would he most welcome. But he had around 
 him a crowd of his subjects, who were come to make complaints 
 and ask for justice. The king listened very patiently to them all 
 (which shows his love for justice, and that, as he afterwards said, 
 he never Bpared himself any trouble for the good of his people). 
 iw tired of waiting, and begged the king to 
 D to his song, which was but a short one. Upon that the 
 king turned to him very angrily, saying, " Are you not ashamed 
 do what no one else has dared to do — to write a short poem 
 about me 1 Unless by dinner to-morrow you produce a poem 
 with above thirty verses in it about me, your head shall be the 
 penalty." Away went the poet and set to work; most likely he 
 had never fell such zeal in his life in composing a poem ; and the 
 next day he appeared before the king with his fine long poem 
 all ready, for which he was rewarded with fifty pieces of pure 
 silver. 
 
 14. After doing all these things Cnut showed his religion by 
 q a pilgrimage. At that time, and for many years both 
 
 before i I after, this was considered as a most pious 
 
 and praise-worthy act. The root of the idea was 
 
 ima " thai people considered some places in the world — 
 
 places where holy people had lived or done some great 
 
 act- e-re.l than any others, and believed that God was more 
 
 willing to 1 the prayers that were said there than to those 
 
 said anywhere else. ' >f course they thought the most sacred place 
 
 on earth was the Holy Land, and every spot in it where our Lord 
 
 had been. There are. perhaps, few of as who would not love to 
 
 I thlehem and Jerusalem, and the Sea of Galilee, and the 
 
 Mount of Olives ; probably it would warm our hearts, and do us 
 
 it deal of g 1, though we should not believe that God 
 
 would listen to our prayers any the more because we had taken 
 long journey to make them there. But in Cnut's days to 
 joun i pilgrimage was thought to buy forgiveness of sins 
 
 ■ atrance into heaven. 
 
 15. it was then very difficult and even dangerous to travel all
 
 xiti.] CNUT. 121 
 
 the way to Jerusalem, but there were many other places which 
 were also held sacred, and where it was much easier to go. 
 There were some even in England ; and we have just seen how 
 people used to go and pray at the tomb of St. Alphege at Canter- 
 bury. But the next holiest after Palestine was Eome, where it was 
 believed that St. Peter and St. Paul had been martyred and were 
 buried, and where the Pope, who was looked on as the head of 
 the Church, lived. Many kings and other people would make 
 pilgrimages to Rome. It had also come to be the custom now 
 for the archbishops of Canterbury and York to go to Rome to 
 receive what was called the " pall" (a part of their sacred dress) 
 from the Pope ; this was a sort of way of doing homage to the 
 Pope, and owning him as their head. They were made to pay a 
 good sum of money for it too, for the Church of Rome seems 
 always to have bad a great liking for the "silver and gold" of 
 which St. Peter had none. 
 
 16. But even this journey was somewhat dangerous, and one 
 archbishop had died in crossing the Alps. Unless by sea, Italy 
 cannot be entered from any part of Europe without crossing those 
 great mountains; and the soldier or robber lords, as we may call 
 them, would build castles on the heights, and rush down upon 
 the merchants or pilgrims who were going to Rome with great 
 treasures to sell, or rich offerings for the Churches, and would 
 make them pay a heavy tax or take their things away. We can 
 see the ruined castles now on the mountains as we go from 
 Switzerland into Italy. 
 
 17. Cnut then, having settled his kingdom and made England 
 very peaceable and contented, and having done the best he could 
 to appease the English martyrs, made a pilgrimage 
 
 to Rome. And while be was there be wrote a wry i ett l c 8 r 
 into i Letter to his people at home, which was 
 
 addre «ed bo the archbi bop , the bishops, the great men, and all 
 the people. In it, be says that be went for two reasons: for the 
 
 redemption of hi ind for the good of bis | pie. He saw 
 
 at Borne not only the Pope, but also the great I terman emperor, 
 and many other princes. He tells the people that the) all 
 treated him with great honour and n pact, and especially that 
 the emperor ■ ive bim many costly presents, as gold and Bilver 
 v plendid garmenl I. Then be says he i poke to 
 
 the emperor and the oth< re aboul the trouble his subjects had in 
 getting to Rome on account of the fortified places, and the 
 unjust tolls and exactions, and they promised that this Bhould 
 be put a stop to, and that the English and Danish merchants
 
 122 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect 
 
 and pilgrims should be allowed to come and go in peace and 
 
 18. Be had also complained to the Pope about the immense. 
 Bums of money which were extorted from the archbishops, and 
 expressed himself highly displeased at it; to -which the Pope 
 had promised that it should not happen again. Then he goes on 
 
 :v what good resolutions he had made himself as to his future 
 lit'.', and is nol too proud to own that ho had done many wrong 
 things, but says that he will endeavour "by God's help entirely 
 to amend it." He says that he has vowed to Almighty God to 
 
 ni his life rightly, to rule his kingdoms and people justly 
 and piously, and thai qo one, whether rich or poor, should be 
 oppressed or ill-used ; and that he has written this letter that all 
 
 pie may rejoice in his prosp. rity, and may know that he 
 
 will never snare any trouble when he can do anything for their 
 good. A v. this letter is so good, so hearty, and so sensible 
 
 that, 1 think, the witan must have considered they never did a 
 wiser thing than when they made Cnut king, even though he 
 
 qo1 an Englishman. 
 
 19. Happy is the land that has do history! There is not 
 
 re to tell about the reign of Cnut. Things went on 
 ly and quietly, bo that there was little to write about. 
 3 ploughed their lands and reaped their harvests 
 without fear of being plundered. The merchants minded their 
 - and made their profits, instead of being besieged and 
 robbed Every one enjoyed the fruit of his labours; they mar- 
 aud were given in marriage ; they were sale, happy, ami con- 
 and bo the years passed away, and the men who wrote 
 1 could not find anything to say, except when 
 a bishop or an abbot died, and a new one had to be appointed. 
 The ' ' Jhronicle ' is rather dull reading just now, but it must have 
 d much pleasanter living. 
 
 I'll. There is one thing, however, which is interesting. Cnut 
 Scotland, and mad.- its king do homage to him and 
 □ him as his lord, jusl as the former kings had 
 !t • done to Edward and to Edgar. This king of Scot- 
 ancle to Duncan. And he brought with him two 
 othi or ander-princes, one of whom was Macbeth; 
 
 \a-iy Macbeth of whom Shakespeare wrote, and who mur- 
 I I >uncan. 
 Like almost all the kings of this time, Cnut had a very short 
 
 1035 li '''' k 6 (li " 1 wll " n J " : waa 1mt f " ltv - v ' ;lls o1 '*' having 
 Cnafs death. tw " ' ' ! ' anwort hysons behind him, who were both 
 kings of England for a short time.
 
 ami.] CNUT. 1-23 
 
 21. We will not waste muck time over them. The first was 
 called Harold, and his surname was Harefoot, because he was a 
 swift runner. When Harold became king it seems ., . , 
 that the two princes in Normandy, the sons of Ethel- Harefoot. 
 red and Emma, began to think they might have a 
 
 chance of getting back tkeir father's kingdom. The younger of 
 them, Alfred, came over to England, where his mother was. 
 But hi ized with all his followers and most cruelly used ; 
 
 Minded, and afterwards killed; uxd the Chronicle says — 
 
 " Now is our trust in 
 the beloved God, 
 tliiit they arc in bliss, 
 blithely with Christ, 
 who were without guilt 
 so miserably slain." 
 
 Harold Harefoot was very irreligious, and he took pleasure 
 in insulting the services of the Church. He would call out his 
 huntsmen and his dogs with greal noise and hustle, and ride off 
 hunting just at the moment when people were going to church, 
 when- he ought to have been going too. In this; way he no 
 doubt disgusted both the clergy and the people. He only 
 •i'd about four years, and then died. 
 
 22. Upon this his half-brother Harthacnut was chosen king. 
 Be was the son of Cnut and of Emma, and was at this time in 
 Flanders with his mother, bul lie had been born and 
 
 bred up in England. The people, therefore, hoped that ,, 1 ? 40 ' 
 he would beagood king like his father, but it turned Harthacnut 
 out that he was worse even than Earold. This istheaccount 
 the ' I ihronicle ' gives of him. " Then was Harthacnul sent after 
 at Bruges; it was imagined to he well done. And be then cai 
 hither with sixty ship- before Midsummer, and imposed a very 
 heavy contribution, bo thai it was home with difficulty; . . . and 
 then was every one unfavourable to bim who before had desired 
 him ; nor did he perform ought kingly while he reigned. He 
 ised the dead Harold to be dragged up, and had him cast into 
 a fen." But the I tanes afterwards took the body of I [arold and 
 laid it, in a burying-ground they had, where now stands the 
 church of 8t. ( lement I >ai 
 
 23. II irthacnut exasperated and enraged the people very much 
 by laying on then, a very heavy tax, called the Danegeld. This 
 tax had been begun by Ethelred the CTnready, to pay his tribute 
 to tic 1 1 v | perhaps it was partly for thai reason thai it 
 
 ilways looked on as a most hateful tax. : the people
 
 124 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 now rebelled and would nol pay it. Then Harthacnut sent his 
 Boldiera to ravage the land and kill the people, and so tnade 
 himself still more detested than before. 
 
 24. The only good thing to be said about him is. that lie 
 ■ i have had some natural affection for his half-brothers* 
 
 the two princes who had been broughl up in Normandy. He was 
 
 very it the cruel murder of i r Alfred, and accused Earl 
 
 Godwine of having a hand in it. Godwinemost solemnly swore 
 that he was innocent, and a greal many other lords swore it too ; 
 but to this day nobody knows whether he was so or not; some 
 think one way, and Borne another. To please and pacify the king, 
 he made him a Bplendid present. Ee knew how proud and fond 
 the Danes were of their ships, and how they decorated them; 
 and he ■- we Barthacnut a magnificent ship, Avith eighty men on 
 rd, all beautifully dressed, with fine weapons, and with golden 
 bracelets on their arms. This present so pleased the king that 
 Godwine's oath about Alfred's death. 
 
 25. Ee then invited his other brother, Edward, to come over 
 ogland and live with him, which he did. After Harthacnut 
 
 had reigned about two years, he went to a marriage-feast of one 
 of his great Lords. '•And as he stood at his drink he fell 
 
 denly to the earth with a terrible struggle, and then they 
 who were nigh took hold of him, and he afterwards spoke not a 
 word." An inglorious and disgraceful death, after an inglorious 
 
 . disgraceful reign.
 
 xiv ] THE CONFESSOR. 123 
 
 LECTURE XIV.— THE CQNFE.SSOR. 
 
 Edward the Confessor. The Normansand the English. The English party 
 d Earl Godwine. Godwine's banishment and return. Harold. 
 \\ estniinster Abbey. 
 
 1. Now once more a descendant of Cerdic and of Egbert sate 
 
 on the throne of England. Harold and Hartliacnut had left no 
 
 children, and Hartliacnut had evidently intruded 
 
 hia brother Edward to be king after his own death, -p., ,A\, 
 
 ... , - -v,- •, iMiwaia tne 
 
 when lie invited, him to aome back irom .Normandy Coufessor. 
 
 ami live with him. So all the people made Edward 
 
 king : ami lie was the last king of that old royal family which 
 
 reigned so gloriously, on the whole, through those hundreds 
 
 <>t 
 
 :'. The people, no doubt, thought they had now got rid of the 
 
 forei "id had A Teal English king again ) but this wa3 not 
 
 bo. Though Edward was half ; "' Englishman by birth, lie was, 
 
 in fart, much more a Frenchman. We shall sometimes use the 
 
 da Norman and French interchangeably now ; for our old 
 
 oerally call the Normans Frenchmen, and, indeed, 
 
 they had by this time become bo in fact. Now Edward, besides 
 
 having a French mother, had been taken to Normandy when be 
 
 was quite i child, ami had lived there with bis uncle and cousin 
 
 ever .Mie-. . -o that he waa far more like a Frenchman than an 
 
 I Ji-limaii ; as any of US would have been if we bad been 
 
 ii to live in France with pear relations when quite young, 
 
 bad been educated there, had talked the, language, ami had learnt 
 
 all the ways and habits of tie- people. 
 
 :; Tie re [ real difference between the Normansand the 
 
 1 lish, though they were such near neighbour*. We learn 
 i about t } i i - from the writings of a man called 
 
 William of Malnie biuv. who bad a very g 1 ^J"^ 811 
 
 knowledge of what he was saying, since his father Normans. 
 a Norman and his mother an Englishwoman j 
 
 and he was anxious to do justice to both side . though, on the, 
 whole, be seeme to have preferred hia lather'.-, race.
 
 126 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 I. The Normans were at this time in some respects more 
 civilized than the English. They had more polished manners, 
 and were more gay, bright, and lively. To this hour French- 
 men are considered more polite and affable than the English, 
 who are looked on, whether ju.-tly or unjustly, as blunt and 
 clumsy in comparison. The Normans were skilful architects, 
 and had buill many beautiful churches and minsters far superior 
 to those of Bugland. We hear too that they had noble and 
 splendid houses, in which they lived temperately and frugally; 
 "they were delicate in their food, but not excessive;" while the 
 ! ii.-li lived in "mean and despicable houses," and were over- 
 land of eating and drinking. It had long been the habit, on 
 cessions, to begin dining early in the morning, and to 
 continue drinking and revelling all day; but they had got still 
 ■ in this way latterly, for the brutal King Harthacnut, who, 
 as we naw, died drinking, had introduced the custom of having 
 great meals every day, and they would sometimes pass 
 entire nights in drinku 
 
 5. It Beems too that the English, including the clergy, had 
 11 fallen into a very ignorant state, so that "they could 
 
 mmer out the words of the sacrament, and a person 
 who understood grammar was an object of wonder and astonish- 
 ment. The nobility, given up to luxury and wantonness, went 
 not t«i church in the morning alter the manner of Christians, but 
 ly in a can-less manner heard matins and masses from a 
 hurrying priest in their chandlers." 
 
 6. 'Ill' writer speaks of the degrading slave-trade which 
 
 ried on in England, and which struck him, as well it 
 might, with great horror. But after telling us all this about the 
 lish, their ignorance, drunkenness, &c, he says, " 1 would 
 these hid propensities universally ascribed to 
 tie- English. I know that many of the clergy at that day trod 
 tin- path of sanctity by a blameless life; 1 know that many of 
 the laity of all ranks and conditions in this nation were well- 
 pleasing to God. lie injustice tar from this account; the accus- 
 ation ii e the whole indiscriminately." 
 
 7. Edward very naturally preferred the people he was used to, 
 and their pleasant ways ; though when he became King of Eng- 
 land he oughl to have cast that aside, and set himself 
 
 Edward tll understand and love his people, as Cnuthaddone. 
 favours the , , , , i i • 
 
 Normans. J,ut though he wa* a good man, and in some ways a 
 
 • . he could nol help showing a great parti- 
 
 t ■ the French, which led to much trouble in his days, and
 
 xiv] THE CONFESSOR. 127 
 
 to still more afterwards. A great number of Frenchmen came 
 over to England ; and Edward favoured them very much, and 
 gave them offices and estates, so that they grew rich at the 
 expense of the English. But above all, he promoted the Erench 
 clergy, and set them over the English. He made a Frenchman 
 Bishop of London, and another Bishop of Dorchester. "We can 
 imagine how offensive this would be to the English, -who have 
 always been noted for their jealousy of foreigners. It appears, 
 too, that this Bishop of Dorchester, though a Frenchman, must 
 have been cmite as ignorant as an Englishman, for when he went 
 to Home the Pope was very near depriving him of his bishopric, 
 or, as the 'Chronicle' puts it, "they Avere very near breaking his 
 staff, if he had not given the greater treasures, because he could 
 not do his offices (that is, read the prayers, &c.) as well as he 
 should." After that the king made a Frenchman Archbishop of 
 Canterbury, and as he who holds that office is considered the 
 highest person in the whole kingdom, next to the king, this was 
 also a great insult to the English. 
 
 8. Nevertheless, on the whole, Edward was much beloved. He 
 
 of a gentle and pious nature; not clever, but meek and good. 
 
 He seems, too, to have been good-looking, and he 
 
 had pleasant, polished manners, Avhich he had learnt Hls P 1 ^ aud 
 
 in France. The 'Chronicle' says that though he had 
 
 dwelt so long in exile, " he was aye blithe of mood," cheerful 
 
 and calm. He pleased the people greatly by taking off a heavy 
 
 tax which had oppressed them very much. The tale is, that one 
 
 year, when it had just been collected, the king was brought to 
 
 88 of gold. He was bo struck with the sight, and 
 
 with the thought of the misery it must cause the people to have 
 
 so much money wrung oul of them, that he fancied he 
 
 saw an exulting little devil jumping aboutupon the casks. This 
 
 story, with several others about Edward's visions and dreams, 
 
 tfterwai ed in stone, as a decoration for his chapel in 
 
 Westminster Abbey, where we may still see them, though so worn 
 
 .• with age that they are no1 very easy to understand 
 
 Edward was surnamed by his people the "Confessor," which 
 
 meant in fch almo i the same as a saint. They thought 
 
 him so nearly a saint that it was believed he could work miracle , 
 
 and had the gift of prophecy. His principal miracle wa i healing 
 
 a particular dia rafula) by his touch, or by the patient being 
 
 bathed with the water in which the king had wa bed bis hands. 
 
 ( J. We saw that in old days it was believed that the king and 
 royal family were descended from the god Woden, and thus there
 
 128 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. Li.e<-t. 
 
 w \a a Bpecial Racrednesa aboul them, which made them different 
 from all other men. Attn- Woden came to be regarded as only 
 
 ;i man this particular 3anctity was Lost, but the | pie could 
 
 up tin' id. m of something supernatural belonging to their 
 
 and they now looked upon him as being more holy than 
 
 all others, through the consecration ami anointing he received at 
 
 nation,— the "holy oil" made him a man removed from 
 
 ;.:i others : ami this feeling wenl on through many centuries. As 
 
 a king, Long afterwards, says in Shakespeare — 
 
 ■• Nut m11 the water in the rough, rude • 
 Can wash tin balm off from an anointed king; 
 'I be breath of worldly men oannot depose 
 The depntj 1 1» t< d bj the Lord." 
 
 Therefore they were quite prepared to believe in miraculous 
 
 belonging to the royal line, and from Edward's time 
 
 onward it was supposed that the kings or queens of England 
 
 PtiH -. d this miraculous power. The last time we hear of 
 
 it being tried in England, or rather in Scotland, was in 1745, 
 
 ' 50 yeai ago. 
 
 in. In the play of M'irl,, tl, we hnd mention made of a " holy 
 
 king'' of England, and his power of curing this disease. The 
 
 " holy king" is Edward the Confessor. It was during his reign 
 
 D mi, the Kin- of Scotland, was killed, and Macbeth made 
 
 king; and that the greal Earl of Northumberland afterwards 
 
 i,t Macbeth and set Duncan's son Malcolm on the throne of 
 
 - -land. Historians say that the story, as Shakespeare tells it, 
 
 : .: to the thai Macbeth was not half so had 
 
 as the play makes him. and that no one knows any harm of Lady 
 
 beth. It' so, ii is rather hard upon them. The poet has so 
 
 mad- them his own, and has so enthralled lis all by his 
 
 that we can never hear their names without a thrill of awe. 
 
 11. Though the English reverenced their king so much, the 
 
 and the :i very ill together. William of Malmes- 
 
 bury, who wrote the history of this period, says he 
 
 Disputes found it very difficult to - I at the truth about their 
 
 between disagreements " on account of the natural dislike of 
 
 Normans" t-heae nations for each other — because the English 
 
 disdainfully bear with a superior, and the Normans 
 
 ..v.t endure an equaL" 
 
 L2. The bead of the English party was Karl Godwine, whom 
 
 Cnul had made earl and governor of Wessex. By this time he 
 
 .; n rful, and it was greatly through his help and
 
 XIV .] THE CONFESSOR. 129 
 
 influence that Edward had been chosen king. His sons were now- 
 grown up, aud they were made earls also, and had a great deal of 
 p aver. The eldest was Earl of Herefordshire and Somersetshire; 
 the second, Ham],!, was Earl of the East Angles, of Norfolk, 
 Suffolk, Cambridge, Huntingdon, and Essex. Edward was 
 married to Godwine's daughter Edith. But, nevertheless, he 
 is to have hated Godwine; and he never loved Edith, though 
 she was clev 1, and beautiful. We know that a weak man 
 
 often hates the strung man who towers over him; and probably 
 Godwine did not phuw much respect to the king whom he had 
 helped to make. He was a clever and determined man, and some 
 of his children were the same. It was thought by many of the 
 that they treated Edward with great disrespect, and 
 ridiculed his simplicity. Edward also, it appears, never ceased 
 to believe that Godwine had had some hand in the murder of his 
 brother Alfred. 
 
 13. Thus they were on very bad terms. Godwine and his 
 
 sons were i Ring 80 many foreigners favoured and 
 
 promoted, and th-y gathered a strong party of Englishmen, who 
 
 sided with them. Une might be sure, in this state of things, 
 
 fire would soon break out; any spark would be enough to 
 
 kindle it. And very s i the spark fell. One of the king's 
 
 ich friends with his men behaved insolently to the i pie of 
 
 Dover, and when the Dover men resented it, a tumult, or rather 
 a battle, took place, in which several men on each side were killed, 
 but the French were driven (nit of the town. Edward, taking 
 with his friends, commanded Earl Godwine, under whose 
 rnment the town of hover lay, to punish the Dover men. 
 But Godwine Btoutly refused to do that, until they had been 
 fairly tided, and allowed ; h for themselves. Then both 
 
 sides being much irritated, tie- king and his fnrnds gathered an 
 arm;,, .ml Godwine and his ^>n^ did the same. Bui no fight 
 t,„,k place, for when tie- two armies met I rodwine's men dropped 
 
 away from him, and he and his BOOS were declared outlaws, and 
 
 banished from tin- kingdom. 
 
 1 i. It eeme Btrange tint tie- people fell away from Godwine 
 readily, when he was standing up for English liberty and juafci 
 , hut there mat have been tworea on Eorit: one» 
 
 that, they really loved tie- king; and tl tie ir, thai 10 i 51 ' e 
 
 Godwine's eldeei son bad been a very wicked and f oodwine 
 disgraceful man, a base and treacherous murden-r, a „d his sons, 
 and yet In- father bad favoured him and shielded 
 him from punishment. 
 
 K
 
 130 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 >,'..t content with the banishment of God wine, the king scut 
 away hia own v. i Edith also, and took possession of all her 
 , her lands, her gold, and her silver, which certainly did 
 no! Look very saintlike. 
 
 L5. While Godwineand hissonswerein exile Edward received 
 a visit from a very important person, to whom he was much 
 attached, his cousin, the Puke of Normandy. We shall have a 
 great deal more to hear about him, as he had more influence on 
 the history of our country than, perhaps, any other man in the 
 whole world. This young cousin of Edward's, who was now 
 about fcwenty-tl rs old, was no other than William the 
 
 < [ueror. It was perhaps at this time he began to think he 
 should like to be king of England. When he saw our beautiful 
 country, with its thriving towns, its rich meadows and fertile 
 field Ldustrious and clever people, he would doubtless feel 
 
 it would 1"' a line thing to be its lord. And William was one of 
 en who. when they once set their mind on a thing, 
 rally end by getting it. However, for this time, after being 
 well received, he went peaceably home again, it was said, 
 afterwards, thai Muring his visit Edward promised to make 
 William bifl heir, but the truth of that was never known. 
 
 1G. Meanwhile, we might be sure Godwine and his sons were 
 
 not going t u long in banishment. The very next year 
 
 they came i 'in. This time large numbers of the 
 
 1052. ^ j n jj their sidej tiny collected a great fleet 
 
 return "'"* armv aI "' Bailed up to London. The king also 
 
 1 a fleet and an army; and there the two 
 
 rmen stood face to face. The chronicler tells how 
 
 things fell out. II' "It was repugnant to almost all of them 
 
 that they should fight againsl men of their own race ; for there 
 
 luld <i" anything great, except English- 
 men, h Bide; and they would not that this country should 
 
 I iii<li.-h peoples, in consequence of their 
 
 ■ nli other. They then resolved that wise men should 
 
 ii them, ami they Bettled a peace on each side." 
 
 17. Tin- pea© i complete triumph to Karl Godwine. 
 
 "I » G ■■: ■■•.: bis earldom clean given back, as full and free 
 
 His triumph M '"' ' ed it ; and in like manner to his 
 
 U that tie y had before po - i d, and to his 
 
 wife and da r, all aa full and as free as they had before 
 
 L And they confirmed between them full friendship; 
 and to all the people they promised good law. And they then 
 outlawed all the Frenchmen who had before raised up unjust
 
 xiv.] THE- CONFESSOR. 131 
 
 law, and judged unjust judgments, and counselled evil counsel 
 in this country." 
 
 IS. So then the bishops and the archbishop, and the French- 
 men in general, took flight, bag and baggage. They went off 
 on horseback, and, to leave a pleasanter memory behind them, 
 " slew and maltreated many young men " by the way. When 
 they got to Walton-on-the-Xaze " they there lighted on a crazy 
 ship, and the archbishop betook himself at once over the sea, 
 and left his pall and all Christianity here in this country, so as 
 God willed it ; as he had before obtained the dignity, so as God 
 willed it not." 
 
 / ' 19. Now the foreigners were all gone, and England was herself 
 again ; but Godwine did not live long to enjoy his restored power 
 and dignity, for in the following year lie died. It 
 
 was said, that as he Bat at the Easter feast with the _. , \ 
 
 . His dccitli 
 
 king, Edward brought up again the old accusation 
 
 about Godwine having helped in the murder of the Etheling, 
 
 Alfred ; and that Godwine, calling upon God to bear witness to 
 
 his innocence, exclaimed, " May this morsel of bread be my last 
 
 if I had any hand in that deed;" and that, having said thus, the 
 
 morsel of bread choked him, so that lie fell down and died. 
 
 There is qo evidence that this tale is true, but it is certain that 
 
 he fell down (very likely in a fit) al Edward's table. 
 
 20. After Godwine's death his second son Harold became the 
 most powerful man in England. lie seems to have been of a 
 finer nature than his father, and Less overbearing, 
 
 though quite as brave and clever. The king trusted 
 
 him greatly, though he was fonder of his younger brother Tostig, 
 
 who was not nearly I a man. Harold was a valiant 
 
 soldier, and a skilful commander, and he gained great renown 
 
 by fij tor the king in Wales. The Welsh, though they had 
 
 I been under the English 1. ad paid them tribute, had 
 
 ; ■ heartily submitted, and they now began to rebel again 
 under a king called Griffith. Harold led an army into Wales 
 and conquered them, killed Griffith, and brought his head to 
 
 I ion. 
 
 21. But soon after thi il mi fortune befell him. lb' was 
 at sea, near the coast of France, when his vessel was wrecked 
 and tossed on the shore, in the dominions of b certain Count 
 Guy, who was a vassal of the Duke of Normandy. H was 
 the custom in I if anyone had the misfortune to be 
 shipwrecked on a Btrai thai in tead of being kindly 
 treated, comf rted, and helped, as would now be the case, lie 
 
 K 2
 
 132 LECTURES ON ENGLISn HISTORY. [lfct. 
 
 was taken prisoner, and made to pay a ransom before lie was 
 allowed to depart. Accordingly, Harold was made prisoner by 
 Guy ; luit he contrived to send word to the Duke of Normandy 
 how he was being treated. 
 
 All the history of the later years of Edward the Confessor, of 
 Harold, and of the Norman William, was represented in a series 
 of pictures in needlework, which are si ill preserved at Bayeux, 
 in Normandy, and formerly ornamented the cathedral there, of 
 which William's brother was the bishop. An exact copy of 
 them is bo be seen in the Kensington Museum. 
 
 Though these pictures are particularly ugly and uncouth, they 
 are very amusing and interesting to look at; and, besides, the 
 adventures of Harold and the others tell a good deal about the 
 Bhips, architecture, and costumes of the period. 
 
 22. The Duke of Normandy had quite made up his mind, by 
 this time, that he would be king of England when his cousin 
 
 Edward died, bul he felt that Harold st 1 very much in the 
 
 way. All the English loved him; and if they could not jjet a 
 
 king of their own old royal family, they would be far more 
 
 likely to choose the English Harold than the French William. 
 
 William, therefore, determined to try and get Harold over to his 
 
 B nt for him away from Count Guy, brought him to 
 
 . and treated him with greal outward kindness and 
 
 . but would ic>t Let him go away until he had taken a 
 
 very unfair ad e of him ; for he made Harold, 
 
 oath. whowasreally his prisoner, take an oath that, when 
 
 Edward died, he would do all in his power to help 
 
 ike William king. Mora than this,heeven cheated Harold 
 
 in t way he made him swear. 
 
 considered that taking an oath is a men. 
 
 an thing than merely speaking and promising to tell the 
 
 truth. In our times, when a man swears or takes an oath before 
 
 a judge he kiasi a the Bible ; and what is meant by that is, that 
 
 lie calls "ii God to witness that he will speak the truth. Thus 
 
 solemnity about it; and many a man, who would 
 
 mind telling a li.', would feel -pat dread of swearing falsely, 
 
 king an oath. 
 
 24. Now when Harold was compelled (against his will) to 
 
 r that he would help to make William king of England, 
 
 ; k of the Gospel a at of altar, covered 
 
 with a splendid cloth of gold. Duke William was sitting on his 
 
 hroii-, crowned, and with a rich sword in his hand. Around 
 
 d bis great nobles, bishops, and knights as witnesses. 
 
 told laid his hand on the book, and very unwillingly swore.
 
 nv.] THE CONFESSOR. 133 
 
 As soon as he had taken the oath, some of the attendants lifted 
 up the cloth of gold, and underneath was seen, not an altar, or a 
 tahle, hut a hox or chest tilled with relics and hones of saints. 
 Harold was struck with dismay, and shuddered. Strange to say, 
 he and all around thought the oath far more awful and sacred 
 now than he had supposed it to he when he only swore on the 
 New Testament ; such was the feeling in those days ahout saints 
 and relics. After this Harold was allowed to return to England. 
 
 25. Here he grew more and more in the favour of the people. 
 His brother Tostig, Edward's favourite, had been made Earl of 
 Northumberland. Though the gentle Edward was 
 
 s > attached to him, Tostig was at heart a fierce and Tosti " 
 tyrannical man, and the people of Northumberland, 
 who were a turbulent and warlike race, would not put up with him. 
 They broke out in rebellion, and King Edward sent Harold to the 
 north to settle matters, hoping that Tostig would be re-established 
 in his dominion. But when Harold found that his brother had 
 ruled cruelly and unjustly, and that the Northumbrians were 
 ed not to have him, and had even chosen another earl for 
 themselves, he would not go to war for the sake of his brother ; 
 he allowed the Northumbrians to keep the earl whom they had 
 
 chosen, and Tostig had to flee over the sea. Thus the | pie 
 
 saw that Earold had their good at heart more than the greatness 
 of his own family, and they honoured and trusted him more 
 th m ever. 
 
 26. Edward'8 end was now drawing near. He was growing 
 old, and there was one great thing he Longed to sec completed 
 before he died, one great work on which his heart 
 
 . i -i r c \\ r 4 i Westminster 
 
 was set — this was the building of Westminster Abbey. 
 Abbey. Though Westmii now part of Lon- 
 
 don, and we cannot tell when we pass from one into the other, 
 in Edward's day it was some little distance off, and, more than 
 that, it was an island. There were then beside the riverThames 
 number of streams and little rivers running down from 
 1 1 1 1 • 1 London, which are all buried alive now under 
 the Btreets. There had Long been a little old church standing 
 upon this Island, which, being covered with thickets and thorns, 
 was called " Thorney Isle." 
 
 27. Here Edward, who had been used to Bee much grander 
 buildings in NTormandy than the English knew how to make, 
 
 determi I thai be would build the fines! church thai had ever 
 
 been seen in England, and he also buill himself a palace there, 
 where he might watch the work going on. The place where il 
 stood is still called "Old Palace Yard.'' This new li.hI
 
 i:u LECTURES OH ENGLISH HISTORY. [leoc, 
 
 church, which was dedicated to St. Peter, was called the "West 
 Minster ; the principal church in London itself was dedicated to 
 St Paul 
 
 There La very little of Edward's grand abhey left now, but a 
 few Btrong foundations of the pillars, and perhaps a dark arch- 
 or two, are -till there. And our beautiful Westminster 
 Abbey, which has been called "the most lovely and loveablo 
 thing in Christendom," is on the same spot, and there may still 
 en the '-shrine" or sacred tomb of Edward the Confessor, 
 the first of all the good or great or famous Englishmen who lie 
 burled there. To see the minster finished and consecrated was 
 his heart's desire. 
 
 28. There was still one more thing to do, to appoint his suc- 
 
 Be had no children ; all the old royal family were dead 
 and gone except one man. that son of Edmund Ironside who 
 h id been sent long ago to Hungary, and his children. Edward, 
 perhaps, meant to make him king after his own death, for he 
 for him from Hungary, and had him and his three children 
 ght to England, just as lie himself had been sent for by 
 Harthacnut. Prince Edward arrived with his son, Edgar the 
 Etheling, and his two daughters, but he died almost directly 
 after reachii ind. His son Edgar was a very weak, almost 
 
 imbecile young man. Had he been like his grandfather. Edmund 
 Ironside, most likely all the resl of our history would have been 
 different. But ev< could see that this pom-, feeble, harm- 
 
 not lit to be king in troublous times, and 
 
 that the struggle for the thr i would be between "William and 
 
 Harold, tv. ng and vigorous men. William 
 
 1065. always maintained that his cousin had promised the 
 
 Edward kingdom to him, but it is certain that as King 
 
 Edward lay dying he said Harold was to be his heir, 
 
 29. He was now at Westminster; it was Christmas time; the 
 itifu] church was finished, and ready to be consecrated. He 
 
 ength for thai great and joyful day. It was 
 
 fixed fox December 28th, the Feast of the Innocents. But he was 
 
 ill and weak to be present, the queen had to take his place 
 
 mony, and he only went into the church when he 
 
 carried then- to be buried. 
 
 30. They tell us thai when he was dying he said he "hoped 
 
 : from the land of the dead to the land of the 
 living;" and the 'ChronicL P . his friend, opened 
 
 • P adise, and .St. John, his own dear one, led 
 the Divine Majesty."
 
 xv. 1 THE CONQUEST. 133 
 
 LECTURE XV.— THE CONQUEST. 
 
 Election of Harold. Battle of Stamford Bridge. Battle of Hastings. 
 I ironation of William the Conqueror. His character. Effects of the 
 Norman Conquest— on the English character — on the English language. 
 
 1. It was evident that there would be a great contest for the 
 crown at the death of Edward the Confessor. But, at least, in 
 the minds of the English there was no doubt at all. 
 Harold was elected on the verv day Edward died. z: . 
 The next day, January 6, Edward was buried and Harold. 
 Harold crowned in the new abbey at Westminster. 
 No one thought of chousing the Etheling, Edgar, who was the 
 only man Left of the old royal family, but who was young and 
 weak, and plainly unfit to govern. 
 
 2. Some historians call Harold a " usurper/' because he was not 
 of tli" royal house ; but I think, being an Englishman, and chosen 
 by the English people, he was as true a king as ever we had. 
 
 He bad already been king, in all but the name, through the 
 
 irs of Edward the Confessor, and all the people knew him 
 
 to be wise, just, brave, and merciful. He had, however, but 
 
 little time to show how _ r "-nl ;L king he could be, and his short 
 
 'ii was full of troubles. 
 
 .".. It was not likely that William of Normandy the proud, 
 ambitious, and strong willed man. was going to give tip the great 
 wish of his life without a struggle. It is said that 
 when he firsl heard the nev of Harold being made Duke 
 
 king he was •• s] chless with rage." However, he l Iam ' 
 
 did nut choose to show his fury at once ; indeed, it would 
 
 have iiited bim far better t me in peaceably than to have to 
 
 fight for the kingdom. He accordinj I b an by sendin mi 
 
 t • II irold, reminding him of the oath he had sworn, and 
 summoning him to give up the kingdom to him who was 
 Edward's heir. Harold mu t have bitterly lamented the one 
 false step he had taken in swearing that oath which he never 
 meant to keep. 
 
 4. But it could not be and me now. He »en1 back a straij
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 • ml m.'ss.-i^f to tho iluko, thai tli.it oath had been extorted 
 from him by fear of violence, and therefore it. was not binding ; 
 and he also said very truly that he had had no right to make 
 anyoath or promise al all about the kingdom, which it had. never 
 been in his power to give away without the consent of the people 
 and of the wise men, and that a rash oath ought to be broken. 
 And he ended his answer by adding proudly that all the Eng- 
 lish people had heartily joined in giving the kingdom to him, 
 and that he would not show himself so unworthy of their favour 
 i resign it, or to cease protecting them from foreign enemies ; 
 and, in short, that he would not give up the kingdom unless he 
 e with it his life. This wassurely the answer of a true king, 
 t the royal blood. 
 Bui il was certain William would not be satisfied with that. 
 II- began forthwith to make preparations for seizing the crown 
 of England by force, since he could not get it without. Ho 
 made all the friends he could among the other princes and great 
 if the Continent, bo as to get aid from their soldiers. 
 Put the principal ally he tried to secure was the Pope. 
 
 6. We may well wonder what concern the Bishop of Rome 
 
 could have iii this affair, so far away from Italy, and not a 
 
 religious matter at all. Put by this time the bishops 
 
 rope. j j;, ,,,,,. w ,. n . verv different indeed from what might 
 
 ■ 1 u expected from followers of St. Peter or of Christ.. 
 
 We all know Christ's charge to Pet< r, " Feed My sheep. Feed 
 My laml St. Peter's successors did not always think much 
 
 about the sheep or the lambs now. They wanted to he great lords 
 and princes, higher than all the kings and emperors in the world. 
 Even this, how 1 side. In those wild times, 
 
 when the prine< - ol Europe wen; so proud, ambitious, and 
 relsome, when their only creed, as far as worldly affairs were 
 i incei aed, temed to be 
 
 *' That they should take who have tin- power, 
 And they should keep who can," 
 
 when they were always defying and robbing one another, it was 
 
 il benefit that there should be a bond of unity which kept 
 
 different from falling all to pieces, a visible and, as 
 
 : believed, divinely appointed power, which in some sort they 
 
 • • tie in all, and to which they all owed some kind 
 
 bediem •• and duty. 
 
 Il m iy be owned, too, that in many cases the Popes did use 
 
 it influence in a wise and Christian way, by striving to
 
 xv.] THE CONQUEST. 137 
 
 teach their turbulent flock something of justice, peace, and pity ; 
 but when, as was often the case, the Pope was as proud, ambi- 
 tious, and crafty as the princes, and so the very light was 
 darkened, how great was the darkness ! 
 
 7. Hitherto, as far as England was concerned, the Popes had 
 not interfered much in anything beyond giving the pall to the 
 archbishops, and getting ail the money they could from them, 
 and from the country in general. But now that they were 
 determined to have a voice, and the loudest voice, in the govern- 
 ing of every kingdom, the Pope would be glad to get an 
 opening like this for taking part in the affairs of England, and 
 haying something to say ahout who was to be king. 
 '8. Of course Harold and the English never thought of asking 
 the Pope's opinion, still less his permission ; they settled things 
 in the old free English way. Therefore there was no doubt the 
 Pope would favour the Frenchman. He pronounced Harold 
 accursed and excommunicated, and he sent William a consecrated 
 banner and a hair of St. Peter. It was not till afterwards that 
 he made known what he expected in return. 
 
 9. Meanwhile William went on with his preparations, collect- 
 in;. • army, increasing the pay of his soldiers, and making 
 uid promises to all. But all Ids fine army, all his ships, all 
 1 : strong will, even the Pope's Hag and St. Peter's hair, would 
 hardly have prevailed against Harold and his Englishmen had it 
 riot been for an Knglish traitor who turned against his country 
 and joined with her enemies. This was no other Tostie. 
 than Tostig, Harold'.- own brother, the same who had 
 been driven out of Northumberland for bis injustice and cruelty, 
 and whom Earold had refused to support. 
 
 10. Tostig had taken refuge in Norway, and made friends 
 with the king of th it, country, and the two now joined in 
 invading the northern part of England, where they defeated the 
 troops who oppo ed them and laid siege to York. Barold there- 
 fore, instead of watching thecoasl to prevent the Normans from 
 
 landing bliged to march to the north to drive these invaders 
 
 He tried a1 first to make peace with his brother, pro- 
 mising him forgiveness and reward if he would submit. 
 
 11. But when Tostig asked what he would give to his 
 friend, the Km.- oi Norway, Barold 1 mi '• replied with 
 
 c " Si ven feet of English ground for a grave ; 
 
 or. perhaps, as he is a tall man, a little more." a tier J attl " °' 
 
 .i ■ i ,■ .i il i . f . Stamford 
 
 this defiance there was no more thought ol peace. n r idee. 
 
 A great battle was fought, and Harold I pmivd.
 
 139 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 Not only the tall Norwegian king, but Tostig also, and many 
 another chief! tin, were left dead on the field, and received those 
 von feet of English gronnd." 
 
 T_'. While Harold and his men were still rejoicing at their 
 triumph, then came news that the terrible Normans had landed 
 in the south and were ravaging the country. Harold had to 
 hurry back, and to collect in all haste another army for another 
 But even now not all the English came. Two of the 
 Is, Edwin and Moivar, stayed away, jealous of Harold, as 
 their father, who had been Kail <.f Merria, had been jealous of 
 Harold's father, Godwine. They seem to have thought, and even 
 hoped, thai England might now fall in pieces again, and be 
 divided into separate kingdoms, as it had been in old times, and 
 that, perhaps, if William conquered Wessex and the south they 
 might In- kings of Mercia ami Northumberland. This was, no 
 doubt, anothei reason why the. English were overcome. 
 
 13. A Long, long, Btabborn, and obstinate battle took place. 
 All day long, from sunrise till moonrise, the English stood firm, 
 
 clustering round their brave king, who fought on 
 
 Hastin °! foot with 1,H lw " fai,hf " 1 brothers by his side. But 
 
 •or ' il was ,l " '" va * n - The English and the English 
 
 Senlac. battle-axes were strong, but the Normans with their 
 
 fine horses and skilful bowmen were stronger. 
 
 Harold was blinded by an arrow, but his men stood firmly by 
 
 him still. .U last be fell dead; his brothers had fallen already ; 
 
 10 and the English broke and led. 
 
 Duke William became " Wi 1 liam the Conqueror." 
 
 14. This terrible fight was fought near Hastings, and is 
 • rally known as tin' Battle of Ha ting , though it really took 
 
 place "ii a hill then Darned Senlac, hut which has ever since 
 that 'lay been called "Battle." And a line abbey was built 
 there by William in remembrance of his victory, the high altar 
 hich was en tl. 3pot where Harold had stood so boldly 
 
 all 'lay long, and had died so boldly in the evening. 
 
 15. After tins battle William had not much more trouble for 
 ;■• time. Not that the whole country gave in and submitted 
 
 ; but though the English in many parts went on resisting 
 
 I revolting for a long time, they never all joined togethei 
 
 one gn-at force, and they were conquered little by 
 
 little, one after another. There was no longer any great leader 
 
 who could have nnited them all. Harold was (I,. ad, and his two 
 
 brave brothers; no one was left hut Edgar the 
 
 E-heling 6 Ethelin 8' The London people and the two earls 
 
 who had deserted Harold tried to make Edgar kin".
 
 xv] THE CONQUEST. 139 
 
 But what was the use of calling him king when he had nothing 
 king-like in him 1 ? 
 
 16. William marched along the coast to Dover. The Dover 
 men submitted ; then he marched up the Thames and came to 
 London with his army. At last London, with the poor sham 
 King Edgar, submitted too without striking a blow. Edgar him- 
 self, with the archbishop and many bishops and nobles, came out to 
 meet the Duke of Normandy, and offered him the crown. The 
 ' < 'hronicli' ' says that " they swore oaths to him, and he promised 
 them that he would be a kind lord to them." 
 
 17. So William entered London, and on Christmas Day, not 
 yet a year since Edward's church was consecrated, the Frenchman 
 wad crowned in it King of England. The coronation 
 ceremony was not a joyful one, as we may suppose. coronat i on 
 But still William wished it to seem as if he were 
 
 freely chosen. The great church was full, partly of English, and 
 partly of French people < >n one side of William stood an 
 English archbishop, on the other side a French bishop. The. 
 Englishman epoke in English, and asked the people if they 
 would have William crowned King of England. The French- 
 man spoke in French, and asked the Bame question. All the 
 people answered "yes," clapping their hands and Bhouting, At 
 this great noise tie- French soldiers, who were keeping guard out- 
 Bide, fancied there was an uproar or a rebellion, and began to 
 se1 fire to tie- bouses (wooden ones, most likely) round about. 
 people ran out, of l he church, and there was a, great tumult. 
 Aiel William, though a jtrong fierce man, trembled from head 
 to foot (perhaps for tie- only time in his life). Then the An-h- 
 bishop of Fork crowned him, "and he pledged him on Christ's 
 book, before he would set the crown on his head, that he would 
 govern tin- nation ae well as any kin:--; before him had best done 
 if t hey won! I be fail hful to him. 1 ' 
 
 Tie- history of tin; next twenty years shows how he kepi his 
 Woid. 
 
 L8. Thus William had his "ill. He was erowned K iii'-T of 
 
 I land, and hie descendants have sate on the throne of England 
 
 19. Before proceeding to the events of his reign, lei as pan i 
 insider f tie- great re all i of the Norman Conqui t. 
 
 I-'ii -i of all, we Quasi observe I n land never got rid 
 of tie- Norm at . \ ■■■< mentioned before, she of 9 ^ 8 
 never really got rid of the Danes. Bui that did not conquest. 
 in the end make much difference to the Engli h 
 people. The Dane pi for being a century or two behind in
 
 in LBCTDRES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 civilization, were almost exactly Like the English. Their language 
 
 nearly the Bame, and, as will be remembered, tlie account of 
 
 their early inroads was eery much like the account of the lir.-t 
 
 coming in of the Angles and Saxons themselves. They had 
 
 much the Bame habits, laws, and religion as our forefathers had 
 
 when they first came to England. They learnt the Christian 
 
 grion, and they settled down into being Englishmen without 
 
 any difficulty. They brought in nothing new, and the English 
 
 M nothing from them. 
 
 20. But now the ease was very different. These Frenchmen, 
 
 Northmen though they were by blood, were hardly at all like 
 
 : old ancestors, or like the English. Their language was 
 
 quite different, their habits, manners, and character were quite 
 
 different. And the two nations hated each other. The French 
 
 despised the conquered English, the English detested the proud 
 
 and cruel French. 
 
 •_' 1 . J el after a time, wonderful to say, the French too became 
 
 English, as the Danes had done before. They left off talking 
 
 French, and talked English. They left off despising 
 
 thenices t '" ; English* and grew proud of being Englishmen. 
 
 England was the dear home of both. But this 
 
 union was not an easy one, as it had been with the Danes. 
 
 Many long years of trouble and misery had to pass before it was 
 
 22. When it was complete, when we no longer hear of Anglo- 
 S . ■!>- or Normans, for all were English, there was a great 
 change. The English people was nol quite the same that it had 
 
 :. before, and the English Ian was not quite the same, 
 
 ■ il bad been before. Both changes were for the better; 
 
 anion of Normans and English had produced a finer people 
 
 than the English would have been alone, and the union of their 
 
 Ian i nobler and more perfect language. 
 
 23. In Borne very important respects the English were already 
 a finer people than the Normans, although they were conquered. 
 They understood far more about liberty and law, justice and 
 self-eontroL They were much less arrogant and cruel, and in 
 many ways were as clever, or more clever. But the Normans 
 
 quick, more enterprising, and better soldiers. They 
 
 though! more of refinement, r ad polish than the English 
 
 did. They had also Been - deal more of the rest of the 
 
 world, and knew more of human nature. Islanders, we know, 
 
 ipt to be narrow and limited in their ideas, because they 
 
 • not seen many different sorts of people and habits. And
 
 xv.] THE CONQUEST. 141 
 
 through the union with the Normans, England was brought to 
 take a great deal more interest aud a much larger share in the 
 atfairs of the rest of Europe than she would most likely ever 
 have done otherwise. 
 
 24. The English at that time appear to have lost all spirit of 
 enterprise; they had settled down into a quiet kind of farmer's 
 life, and did not care for much beyond holding their own and 
 keeping off their enemies. The Normans were very different 
 from this J they were restless, and full of ambition and aspira- 
 tion. They could not- be contented to stay at home; wherever 
 there were adventures, wherever there was fighting to be had, 
 some of the Normans would be Mire to be there. Some of them 
 went to Spain, some to Greece, some to Sicily and to Italy. 
 "Wherever they went they made themselves famous, and in some 
 places they founded greal ami splendid kingdoms. 
 
 25. Now in tie- present day the people who wander and 
 spread theraseh the whole world in the most wonderful 
 way are tie- English j so that a traveller can hardly go to any, 
 the mosl remote, little place in Africa or America without finding 
 an Englishman there; t" say nothing of our gr«-a1 empire in 
 India, and our vasl colonies in Canada, Africa, New Zealand, 
 
 ralia, and other places. We probably owe a deal of 
 
 this to tie- Norman fire and energy, which at that time joined 
 itself to tie- Teuton perseverance ami plodding industry. It 
 
 like putting tie- swift spirit of an eagle into the strung 
 body of an ox. We do iint, m,\v go aboul marauding and 
 seizing on other men's lands and kingdoms; and when we have 
 subject nations to govern, we strive to govern them for their 
 own good and greater happiness, though not so entirely a.- we 
 ought, and a- it. i- to be hoped we shall d<» in the future. 
 
 26. Now ah'. nt, inn- language. For a long time the two 
 languagi quite distinct, out when both races began to 
 speak the same, English was wonderfully improved 
 
 from what, it, had been before, tl was -till English, . The two 
 ami not a, a- tie- nation was -till English, and »S ua S e « 
 
 I rench. bat as tie- nation had acquired many L r ""d 
 qualities, many arts, and talents, and refinements, and had left 
 
 ■»ii i it-, old 'lam ae . through tie- union with the 
 
 French, bo had tie- Ian-'; aod many new and beautiful 
 
 words, an- 1 1-it off -"m'- of its unneci ar) and lumbering foi 
 
 ■-'7. .\ learned German (Grimm) has --aid about the 
 English Ian now t Kit "it ] i power of 
 
 BXpri I as id al tie- I '.aim ind of any
 
 142 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 other language of men." And he thinks its perfection is the 
 result "of a surprisingly intimate union of the two noblest 
 languages in modern Europe, the Teutonic and the Romance." 
 
 28. Sou are aware that our forefathers were Teutons, the 
 family us the Germans, that our language is much like the 
 
 man still, and that many of our commonest words are the 
 very Bame or only a little differently pronounced. Almost all 
 ourlittle useful words, our pronouns, adverbs, and prepositions, 
 come to us also from the old German tongue. But we have 
 besides all these a greal many delightful and expressive words 
 which the Germans have not, words which come originally from 
 the Latin, and which the French gave to us. (Not that all our 
 
 o words came to us through the French, for we took some 
 ourselves at first hand, hut the greater part the French brought 
 with them.) 
 
 29. We will now take two very familiar English verses, and 
 notice which words in them belonged to our old Teutonic fore- 
 fathers, and which we learned from the Romance or French 
 language of the Normans. 
 
 "All people that on earth do dwell, 
 
 B og to the Lord witb cheerful voice ; 
 Him serve with fear, 1 1 is praise forth tell ; 
 Come ye before Him and rejoice." 
 
 •'God - ir gracious Queen, 
 
 Long Live our noble Qui i n, 
 1 • d tavi the Queen. 
 
 1 [appj and gloru 
 Long i" i ovi i us, 
 
 tfa Queen." 
 
 The words in italics are the Romance or French words, and 
 though there are very few of them compared with the old Eng- 
 lish or German or must surely all feel that we could 
 ire Nvh.it there are — such beautiful words as "rejoice," 
 &c. ( 'ui' language would have been a 
 sort of heavy bomespun without them. 
 
 30. Another result of this blending is that in a great many 
 
 two words for the same idea: one homely for 
 
 ere, and another rather grand and ornate 
 
 for special occasions. The every-day one is the old Anglo-Saxon, 
 
 i n1 from the Normal 
 
 II ippiness . . . Felicity 
 Truth .... Veracity
 
 xv.] THE CONQUEST. M3 
 
 Heavy .... Ponderous 
 
 Almighty . . . Omnipotent 
 
 Earthly . . . Terrestrial 
 
 Heavenly . . . Celestial 
 
 Shining . . . Radiant 
 
 "We feel in a moment -which of those words was German and 
 which French, and Ave feel how rich and varied it makes our 
 language that they are now all English. 
 
 31. One other and very curious thing ahout this change must 
 be mentioned. The Frenchmen coming in as conquerors and 
 lords, nearly all the lordly words belong to the French, 
 
 such as sovi . 3ceptre, throne, loyalty, homage, ^ovls™ 
 
 duke, count, pal istle. Though the highest of 
 
 all, king and queen, are true old English words. So are the 
 words we love better than palace and castle — home and hearth. 
 
 32. Even down to very common and every-day matters we can 
 learn, from the words of our language, which were masters and 
 which were Bervantsj even from the names we give to our food. 
 It La a singular thing that the live animals in England have one 
 Bet of names; bul their flesh when killed and prepared for eat- 
 ing has another. We talk of sheep and oxen in the fields, but 
 
 lo not talk of eating Bheep and oxen; they are mutton and 
 beef when they come to table. It is the same with calf and 
 veal, deer and venison, pig and pork. Now in the times of the 
 Norman conquest, and lonj bject English had very 
 
 little to do with the animals, excepl when they were alive. 
 They had to keep the Bheep, and to feed the oxen and calves, 
 but they very Beldom got any to eal ; bo the Live creatures kepi 
 their old English nine-, Bui the Frenchmen were the people 
 it them; therefore, when they were going to be eaten tL\ 
 i . nch name-, r, • i. mutton, pork, veal, and venison are 
 
 all French words. Bat an old English word, and thai was 
 
 almost the only sorl of m al the poor people could get. Now 
 not two, but one cation, all this has passed away. 
 Poor men often eai beef, and rich men often eal bacon ; but this 
 little instance Bhows how much history lies written in very 
 common words, it' we know how to read it then 
 
 33. We have now passed over i 'e than lino inn- the 
 
 beginning of our written history, [n those yeai we have 
 
 : many diiferenl \ pie ca ting Longing eve on dear 
 
 old England, coming and coming again, but very 
 
 seldom willing to g i away. The Norman Conquest Nation. 
 
 wa which has taken place in
 
 144 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [war. 
 
 the nation. It was the last time a Eresh people came and settled 
 doM n in the country. 
 
 34. What we are now lias grown gradually from what we 
 
 ime then ; and it will be well to take note of the various 
 
 races who, at different times, have joined in making the English 
 
 1' " 
 
 1st. There v. eve the people mentioned in the first lecture, of 
 
 whom we have no written history, but of whom we know some- 
 thing by the things they left behind them: their tools, clothes, 
 grave-, skeletons, &c. — the bronze people. These were almost 
 . • i tainly short, small, dark men, and no doubt many of us are 
 partly descended from them. We have not one word of their 
 uage lefl ; though some people in the north of Spain, on 
 the shores of the Hay of Biscay, are still believed to speak it. 
 
 2nd. The ( 'elts or ancient Britons, of whom we have written 
 accounts, whose descendants still live in Wales, Ireland, and 
 oilier places, speaking fcheirown language. Most likely we have 
 also some of their blood in us ; and we have a few, though a very 
 few, of their words in our language (basket, cradle, clan, kilt are 
 
 Celtic words) ; a g 1 many names of places, as Kent, London, 
 
 and Leeds; and of rivers, as Avon, Ouse, and Derwent. 
 
 3rd. The Romans, who went away of their own accord, leav- 
 ing roads and oth-r remains, and having taught the Britons 
 -tianity, but from whom we do not seem to have received 
 much more, except, a few words. $uch as "street," which comes 
 from their name for a paved road (strata via); and the names, or 
 half the names, of some cities, as Manchester, the last part of 
 which is a Latin word. 
 
 4th The Angles, Saxons, and Jutes, who are the real ground- 
 work of the nation, and whom I have generally called the 
 English, and their language the English language. 
 
 • r ith. The |)anes, who were noil- relations to the English, and 
 
 boob became one with them; whose, language was very much 
 
 like English, though not quite the same, and from whom also we 
 
 i a bw words (as ugly, weak, cat, dairy); and some names 
 
 of p] - I >erby, < rrimsby. 
 
 6th. The Normans, whose contributions to our language and 
 character have been just spoken of. 
 
 since that time there have been a few settlements of foreigners 
 and there, sometimes Klemiii' n ■ nines French, but they 
 nouf b to produce any important difference in the 
 lish people.
 
 xvi.] THE CONQUERuR. l4o 
 
 LECTURE XVI.— THE CONQUEROR. 
 
 The foreigners in En-land. The feudal system. The castles. Risings of 
 the English. Devastation of Northumberland. The New Forest. 
 Appointments in the Church. Resistance to Papal encroachment 
 Death of the Conqueror. 
 
 1. Tins new king of England was a very remarkable man; had 
 he not been so, indeed, he never would have been king of England 
 at all. His character has been very carefully and 10g6 
 graphically described by tin- writer of the 'Chronicle' 
 at this period, who tells us that he had Been him, and had even 
 lived in his court for a time. And William of Malmesburv, who 
 has been quoted before, and whose father was one of the French- 
 men who came to England at or soon after the Conquest, gives us 
 hie opinion of him too; bul he frankly owns that, though he wishes 
 
 to speak the truth, he shall make much of his g 1 points, and 
 
 lightly over his bad ones. No doubl it was rather dangerous 
 to speak out plainly about the tierce and powerful kings, whose 
 sons or grandsons might be still living. 
 
 2. As to bis appearance, William says, " he was of just Btature, 
 extraordinary corpulence, and fierce countenance, I te 
 
 tic, whether sitting or standing." Be was William the 
 so strong, no one bul himself could draw his bow. 
 
 The chronicler telle u , "He was a very wise man, and very 
 powerful ; more dignified and strong than any who went before 
 
 him were." He al " He was mild to the " 1 umi who 
 
 loved God ;" but it really appears that he only meant by t 
 
 id men " monks and churchmen, for it i- nol easy to find a 
 
 his ever being mild to any one else. And in the very 
 
 same breath he goes on to say, " He was overall measure severe 
 
 :■• men who gainsaid his will. He was a very rigid and cruel 
 
 man, so that no man dursl do anything again I his will 
 
 He had earl in Ins bonds who had acted against his will ; bishops 
 he ca i ii a their bishoprics, and abb its from their abb sys ; and 
 thane, he kept in prison; and at last he jpared not iii- own 
 br .thur." 
 
 L
 
 !!■; LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [tEorc 
 
 3. William of Malmesbury, the flatterer, says, " His anxiety 
 for money is the only thing for which he can be deservedly 
 blamed." So we may conclude this must have been very had 
 indeed, " Be Bought all opportunities of scraping it together ; 
 he cared nol how. He would say and do some things, indeed 
 almost anything, unbecoming such great majesty." The 
 ' Chronicle' tells us the same. " He had fallen into covetousness, 
 and altogether loved greediness." Then presently he breaks out 
 again about his determination to follow his own will (this was 
 with reference to some of his laws, which will be mentioned 
 
 wards). " His great men bewailed it, and the poor murmured 
 thereal ; but he was so obdurate that he recked not the hatred of 
 them all ; bi must wholly follow the king's will if they 
 
 would have land, or property, or even his peace." 
 
 4. Here was a prospect for poor England, and a contrast to 
 the gentle and pious Edward. A strong will is a very fine thing. 
 
 verance and pertinacity are very line things, as we saw in 
 King Alfred, but only when the will is guided by conscience and 
 duty. To will a good thing, and to pursue it even to death, is 
 to be noble ; bul to will a wrongor a selfish thing, and to pursue 
 that to the death, is to be wicked and devilish. 
 
 Not, however, that all that the Conqueror willed was wicked. 
 
 the first beginning of his reign over England lie promised 
 
 fairly, and perhaps really intended to govern justly what he had 
 
 obtained so unjustly. But he became mure and more pitiless and 
 
 hard-hearted as time went on. 
 
 5. V< ry soon after he had settled himself in England, and all 
 thin i and peaceable, he went back to Nor- 
 mandy, taking with him the prince, or etheling, Edgar, many of 
 the English nobles, and the Archbishop of Canterbury; and, 
 moreover, taking, what we know he was very fond of , an immense 
 quantity of gold and silver and other precious things. Eor, in 
 Bpite of all the plundering of the Danes, of which we have been 
 heai ln_' bo much for hundreds of years, England was a rich coun- 
 try then, as it is now. 
 
 When he got back to France, about Easter, he held a very 
 grand festival, and the French lords and princes were astonished 
 and struck with admiration at tin- splendid things he had brought 
 : England, the gold and silver dishes, vases, and cups, the 
 embroidered hangings, and above all, the beauty and long-flowing 
 hair of the young English nobles. Eng I ish boys, it seems, were 
 still as fair as wh( □ Pope Gregory had said they were not Angles 
 but aiiL
 
 xvt] THE CONQUEROR. 147 
 
 7. But meanwhile things went on very badly in England. The 
 two men he had left in charge, one of whom was his own half- 
 brother Odo, a hishop, and who ought therefore to have been just 
 and sympathizing, treated the English so harsldy and cruelly that 
 they began to rebel. 
 
 8. Though the Norman conquest proved in the end for the 
 good of the English nation, yet at the time and for years after it 
 was an awful calamity. It will not be possible to 
 
 describe all the different risings of the English, and ^/j""/ 
 
 the way they were put down ; but I will endeavour 
 
 to give some idea of the state of the country on the whole. 
 
 9. First, then, it was overrun by foreigners. It had been very 
 offensive to the English, even in the days of Edward the Con- 
 fessor, to have so many Frenchmen brought in and 
 favoured. But at that time they had come as friends F ° re t lg , n 
 of the king, and were more or less on their good 
 behaviour. We may imagine how different it would be when 
 they came in far greater numbers, and no longer as visitors, but 
 as conquerors and masters. All over the country, by degrees, the 
 
 lish lords and gentlemen were turned out of their homes, and 
 their houses and lands given to Frenchmen; while the English 
 archbishops and bishops wire also supplanted, until there was 
 only one English bishop left. 
 
 10. Not only nobles, soldiers, and churchmen came to Eng- 
 land, but the lower cl • tradesmen and artisans, all 
 thinking themselves a great deal better than the English. This 
 is how Fuller describes the coming over of these people: — "Soon 
 would the head of the best Monsieur ache without a hatter ; 
 
 1b be tanned without a glover; feet be foundered without a 
 tanner, currier, shoemaker; whole body be starved and cold 
 without weaver, fuller, tailor; hungry without baker, brewer, 
 ; harbourleea without mason, smith, carpenter. . . . And 
 such as arc acquainted with the French finical humour (both 
 ancient and modern) know they account our tailors, botcfi 
 our shoemakers, cobblers; our cooks, slovens ; compared to the 
 i their fancy and palate." 
 
 11. All this would have been intensely galling and irritating 
 : bad the foreigners been humane and reasonable; but the 
 
 terrible part of it. was the character of the French a< 
 
 and Boldien who had now got the land in po e ion. \ ■ 
 
 words can tell how proud, bow cruel, how in olent the e men 
 were. In their own country, before they came to England 
 at all, they were perpetual) mongsl themselves, or 
 
 L 2
 
 1 18 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lf.ct. 
 
 rebelling against their duke ; and, whichever it was, always 
 tormenting and ill-treating the lower people. If ever, by 
 chance, there was a good man among them who had some feeling 
 of religion, and some pity for the poor, he was almost sure, un- 
 fortunately, to retire from the world and become a monk, instead 
 of remaining at his post and trying to do good. 
 
 1 2. It was at this time that there was thoroughly established 
 in England the "feudal system," which was referred to before, 
 
 but which must now be explained more fully. In 
 The feudal fc n08e days there was one thing very different from 
 
 the present. There was no standing army such as 
 we have. Now a soldier is quite distinct from other men. If 
 a man chooses to be a soldier he cannot be a lawyer, or a doctor, 
 a tradesman, or a ploughman. The army is a separate profession, 
 with its own rules and duties. But in old times there was no 
 such thin..'. Tin' king kept a small number of guards in his 
 payj but if there were a war everybody in the country, all the 
 tlemen, all tin- tradesmen, farmers, and labourers, might be 
 called upon to turn Boldiers and to fight. Very often even 
 bishops and clergymen did the same, though this was forbidden 
 
 by the laws of the Church. 
 
 13. The main idea of the feudal system was that every one, 
 high or low, except the, king of the whole country, had a lord 
 
 r him, to whom he owed service, and who owed him protec- 
 tion ; and a great part of the service which the "men" or vassals 
 owed to tleir lord was military service. The king was supposed 
 to be the owner of all the land in the kingdom, and he granted out 
 to the great nobles on condition that when he went to war 
 
 . would come and fight for him. If it was a large estate, the 
 nobleman would have to bring a great many fighting men with 
 ldm ; if a -mall estate, a few men ; but he was only the pos- 
 ir of l,i- own land on those conditions. When he received 
 the estate be had to kneel down before the king bareheaded, and 
 with ord or -pear to put his hands in his, and swear to be- 
 
 come hi- man, and to serve him faithfully, even to death. This 
 was called don, ige. 
 
 11. If a nobleman got a very great estate or property, he 
 
 would become a -ort of king himself, and would divide his land 
 
 long "tier under Lords, on the same conditions, that they 
 
 lid follow him to battle and light for him. These under- 
 
 would, perhaps, divide theirs again into small properties, 
 
 and have tleir " men" in them. But everybody in the country 
 
 who had any land kept possession of it only on condition of
 
 xvi.] THE CONQUEROR. 149 
 
 coming to fight himself ; and if it was a large property, of bring- 
 ing a fixed number of men to ficdit for his lord. On the lord's 
 part, he promised to protect and defend his " man " or his 
 vassal. 
 
 15. Some of the lords and dukes in France and other parts 
 of the Continent, who had very large portions of land, became as 
 powerful or even more powerful than the king himself. The 
 King of France had often much difficulty in keeping any sort 
 of authority over his great vassal?. The Duke of Norniandy 
 was one of these. He held Normandy on condition of being 
 the man or vassal of the King of France. The Duke of Brittany 
 held Brittany on the same terms, and many other of the great 
 lords of France also. All of these portioned out their lands to 
 their followers, so that they had subjects and armies of their 
 own, and could do pretty much as they liked in their own 
 dominions. 
 
 16. Now this same system came into full force in England, or 
 very marly bo, and though William took care not to let his 
 subjects become bo powerful as himself, but to keep the mastery 
 over every one in bis own hands, still the great vassals, each 
 on his own land, and with his own followers, became much 
 like little kings, doing nearly as they pleased, and almost 
 always pleasing fco quarrel and fight and oppress the English. 
 
 17. One of the first things fchey began to do was a thing very 
 hat. dul to the English, namely, to build strong castles to live in. 
 The English, from their earliest days, had always 
 
 disliked stone walls, though in the many wars they The castles - 
 had had they had learned the necessity of having some fort- 
 es and strong cities to Bhelter the fighting men. Alfred's 
 children, Edward and Ethelfled, as we saw, had built many of 
 " I. nil's" iii their wars with the Danes; but for a noble- 
 man or gentleman to build such a place for his own dwelling, 
 and to fill it with armed men, was something altogether new and 
 hoi rible. 
 
 I 3. The e.-istles wens built very strongly. The principal part was 
 -i tower or " keep," in which the lord and bis family lived. 
 The lowest part of all, where, in our times, as English gentle- 
 man would bave in wine-cellar, was Bometimea a tore-room, 
 but often a prison. That will at once give us some idea of the 
 state of things, when a nobleman or gentleman bad as part of 
 own bouse a prison to shut up bis enemies in. How be used 
 his prisoners when h<' got them there, came to li bl more fully 
 fifty or sixty years after this,
 
 150 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [ibot. 
 
 19. These towers were immensely strong; the walls were 
 sometimes fifteen feel thick, and the ruins of many of them are 
 .•-till to be seen. Bui the grandest of all, which is not in ruins 
 yet, is a pari of the "Tower of London," and was huilt for 
 William himself. Outside the Tower, "which stood in a sort of 
 court, was a strong wall, very often with a .smaller tower at 
 each corner, where Boldiers would stand to shoot any enemies 
 who tnighl come. The windows, of the lower stories especially, 
 were mere little slits, lest they might give admittance to the 
 enemies ; but they were so contrived that the men inside could 
 •t their arrows through them. 
 
 In very large castles there would even be two courtyards, 
 one the other; the soldiers and otber people, as black- 
 
 smiths and carpenters, Lodged in these courts. The great gate- 
 was also very strong, and had a portcullis, which was 
 something like an immense sliding-shutter, made of iron liars, 
 and could be let down in a moment. One of these is still to 
 be seen in the Tower of London. Outside was a broad and 
 deep ditch full of water, which was called a moat. If any one 
 wanted a or out be bad to cross over abridge; and, to 
 
 make it still more secure, this was not a firm and strong bridge 
 
 ted in the ground, bul a drawbridge, which could be lifted 
 Up and down by the people inside. 
 
 21. It' a Norman baron were to rise from the dead now and 
 the houses English gentlemen live in, standing open and 
 cheerful in pleasant gardens, and, perhaps, an old man or a 
 little girl to open the entrance-gate at the lodge; no soldiers or 
 armed men anywhere, only peaceable servants and gardeners, he 
 would be amazed. He would think the owner would soon be 
 robbed and murdered, and bis family carried ofF to prison. So 
 it would have been in his days; and though all these things 
 sound romantic and delightful in tales and poems, it must have 
 terrible to live in the midsl of them. 
 
 22 rhoughthe; looki tnd, the rooms even where the lord 
 
 and lady lived were small and dark, and there were very few of 
 thein ; SO that a lady often had UO drawing-room, but must sit in 
 her hed room. As for the servants, they seem to have had no 
 .• all ; a quantity of straw was spread on the floor of 
 I »wet looms, wlere they passed the night. After a time, 
 however, the barons buill large and ban dining-halls, where 
 
 they and their retainei 
 
 During the reign of William the Conqueror, which only lasted 
 twenty-two year-, ■ like this, some larger, some smaller,
 
 xvi.] THE CONQUEROR. 1">1 
 
 were rising up all over the country, and in each of them a French 
 tyrant or master, who could roh and plunder just as he liked, 
 taking the lands of the English, and their daughters too, and 
 dividing them among their own men. 
 
 23. These proud barons more than once rebelled against 
 William. Some of them even attempted to make friends with 
 the English, and help them in a revolt ; but it was all in vain. 
 What William had been strong enough to win he was strong 
 enough to keep, and the proudest of the barons had to humble 
 himself before the king. 
 
 2 t. Almost the worst thing William did was the way he put 
 down and punished a great rebellion in the north, in the old 
 Northumberland. Edgar the Etheling had taken 
 refuge in Scotland with his mother, the Hungarian 1069. 
 lady, and his two sisters. The King of Scotland reb ^j e i(m 
 married his sister Margaret, who was a very good j n t he north. 
 and worthy descendant at our old kings. He now 
 helped his brother-in-law in an effort to gain the crown of Eng- 
 land, which by birth was his right. The King of Denmark also 
 joined him ; for the I >anes b id almost ceased to be enemies, and 
 Looked on as helpers and allies against the cruel French. 
 A greal ri ing was made in the northern counties. The Danes 
 i up the Humber; Edgar and the Scotchmen advanced into 
 England from the north, and till William himself came to the 
 ;,. the French got the wore! of it. But when William 
 arrived the alliance all fell to pieces. The Danes turned traitors 
 and wenl away, ami the English and Scotch were thoroughly 
 beaten at Xork. Edgar fled away again to Scotland, and 
 William stood master. 
 
 25. And thru he toot hi revenge. When he had first heard 
 the news of the rebellion he was out hunting. Ee fell into one 
 of In- i re il t iries, and Bwore " by the splendour of „•„,,_ 
 i, i " he would utterly exterminate the Northum- mcut 
 brim people, and nevei lay down Ids lance until he 
 had done •>. Now he kepi his wicked oath. All the ravaging 
 .,,,,1 harrying we ha d of before, seem like child's plaj bo 
 
 this. He divided his army into separate companies, and they 
 went all over the country the beautiful, Bmiling counti 
 
 roying and burning the orchards and fields with their fruit 
 and burning down the towns and \ il killing the 
 
 Bheep, the cattle, and the people. Whatever they did not hum 
 or kill they carried off for them elvi . And tin they did ovi c 
 the gre i mntry from the Humber to the Cyne.
 
 152 l.K.tTl'KKS ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [uwv. 
 
 •_>,; Even the French people who write of this horrible 
 re seem appalled by it. England had never known any- 
 thing like ii bi fore. The dead bodies lay about on the roads 
 and in the fields; there was no one to bury them. The poor 
 ched creatures who had not been killed must have almost 
 envied the dead ; they wandered about, with no houses to shelter 
 them, and no food to eat. It is even said that, after eating the 
 flesh of the dead horses which were lying about, they were 
 reduced to eating human bodies. A frightful plague broke out 
 among them next, broughl on by misery and hunger; and it is 
 said that more than 100,000 victims perished. When William 
 of Malmesbury wrote, which was sixty years afterwards, he says 
 thai beautiful country was still lying waste and bare; and "if any 
 nt inhabitant remains he knows it no longer." 
 •_'7. Hat even this was not his worst deed. For all this 
 barbarity lie had, perhaps, some shadow of an excuse, or at 
 whit may have seemed an excuse in his own fierce heart, 
 in the fact that these people, or some of them, were rebelling 
 against him; and a shadow of reason maybe found for it by 
 supposing that he would not let the plundering Danes find any- 
 time,' to plunder if they should venture to come back. But he 
 afterwards did something of the, same kind in a perfectly quiet 
 part of England, where he had had no provocation, and acted 
 merely ami Bolely for his own pleasure. This was 
 The New wae n |,,. made tin- New Forest in Hampshire. The 
 only ]•!• or amusement this stern and ruthless 
 
 man ever enjoyed was one which even Edward the Confessor 
 had also been very fond of — hunting. It is strange that the 
 gentle and saintlike Edward should have taken much pleasure 
 in that rough and cruel sport, but it seems quite in character with 
 William. His love for the chase is very quaintly described by 
 ihronicler. " He planted a great preserve for deer, and he 
 laid down laws therewith, that whoso .should slay hart or hind 
 .should be blinded. He forbade the harts, and also the boars, to 
 
 be kill Tin- was i 'der that there might be the mor« for 
 
 him to kill him elf; and it was some of these rigorous forest 
 
 which ■ the "great meu to bewail, and the poor to 
 
 murmur," as we saw. "As greatly did he love the tall deer 
 
 ■ he were their father. J !>■ also ordained, concerning tho 
 
 ill:---, that they should go free." 
 
 28. To make thai " preserve," as the ' Chronicle ' calls it, he 
 
 1 on a lar^."- district in Hampshire, nearly ninety miles 
 
 . :, where there were many pleasant villages, with their
 
 xvi.] THE CONQUEROR. 153 
 
 churches, farm-houses, cottages, and corn-fields. He utterly 
 destroyed all these, and turned out the helpless people to go 
 where they could, giving them nothing in return. This was the 
 man who had promised to be a " kind lord " to the English ! 
 Those cruel laws about blinding and maiming any one who 
 meddled with his wild deer, and his brutal turning out of the 
 innocent people, and destruction of their homes, to form a hunt- 
 ing-ground for himself, made a deep and lasting impression on 
 minds of the English, and it was believed that a special 
 judgment of God would avenge it. And indeed two of the 
 Conqueror's sons and one of his grandsons met their death in 
 thus Xew Forest. 
 
 29. Another thing "William did which offended the English 
 very much, though it seems a very natural and reasonable thing 
 to do, was to send men round to survey every part of the country, 
 and to bring an exact account of it. The people bitterly resented 
 this, because they thought he would make it a foundation for 
 laying on more taxes (as perhaps he did). The book 
 
 in which this record was written was called Domes- Domes " d * 
 day Book. It is still in existence, and tells a great Boo ^ 
 many interesting facts about the state of the country 
 at that time. It tells how much ploughed land there was ; how 
 
 h meadow-land j how many people lived in each town and 
 villa."', and so on. But it seemed a horrible grievance to the 
 ! pecially because it was done so very carefully. "So 
 
 very narrowly he caused it to be traced out, that there was not 
 one yard of land, nor even —it is a shame to tell, though it 
 
 ted t i him no shame to do — an ox, nor a cow, nor a swine 
 left that was not set down in his writ." 
 
 30. "No one is all bad." Though William had shown so 
 
 much cruelty, and had wronged so many English people, he. did 
 
 othei things for which we must admire him, and 
 
 which were worthy of the Klug of England. He ™«kj£& 
 
 Showed that he bad spirit and courage, enough to p ope 
 
 confront the. I'.ipo, ami resist his encroachments. 
 'I !,■■ proudest of all priests at this time was Bildebrand, who 
 afterward became Pope Gregory A' 1 1.; anil who w.i the 
 moving spirit al Rome through this whole period. He had not 
 given hi- Bag ami his blessing for nothing; and when once 
 William was firmly settled on the fchroi f England he de- 
 manded in return that he should do homage to him for it, as if 
 he were the peal head and owner of the country, and William 
 had reci ived it from him.
 
 154 LECTURES <>\ KNCLISII HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 31. Bowever, the proud Pope found a match in the proud 
 
 William positively refiiBed to agree to his demand ; and 
 to show how much he was in earnest, he would not even let the 
 English bishops go out of the country to attend the Pope's 
 councils, Ee made all the bishops do homage to him just like the 
 ind send soldiers from their lands to fight for him. lie 
 lid n, ,1 even Lei a letter from tin' Pope come into the country 
 without his permission. 
 
 32. Always up to this time the king and the earls and the 
 
 had been the besl of friends, and had all worked together 
 harmoniously ; there could hardly be said to be any distinction 
 betw Lurch and State. Bitherto, also, the Popes had made 
 
 no outrageous claims to supremacy; but from henceforward we 
 shall find a greal many disputes, which at length grew to be very 
 a For the present, however, William with his strong will 
 kepi all in his own hands. 
 
 33. Though, by degrees, he tinned out the English bishops 
 and other churchmen and pul Frenchmen in their place, he cer- 
 tainly took pains tn choose good men : Lanf ranc, the 
 
 Lantranc new Archbishop of Canterbury, in particular, was a 
 very learned and excellent man. He and others of the new 
 bishops founded very good schools in many places; he also 
 joined with the king and the only remaining English bishop in 
 putting an end to the slave trade at Bristol, which had gone on 
 for so many years. But Lanfranc was made so miserable by the 
 cruelty and oppression which he saw around him, that helonged 
 to leave the country, and even wrote imploring the Pope to 
 allow biro to quit such scenes of wickedness and tyranny. 
 
 34. Though we cannot say "religion" was prospering much, 
 the Church improved outwardly. The French were, as we 
 
 know, far superior to the English in architecture, and as soon 
 
 a- tli-\ tiled in England they began to build splendid 
 
 churches and abbeys in all directions. Many of our beautiful 
 
 ..Is were begun at this period, or very soon afterwards, 
 
 and we; glory to the country. Some of the finest were 
 
 Durham, Peterborough, I er, and Gloucester. Pointed 
 
 litecture had not yet been invented, and they still had round 
 
 arches and massive pillars, which wen: richly decorated, and wi-v, 
 
 ; . • itely, and solemn. 
 
 35. One more good thing about "William the Conqueror is, 
 that his private life was excellent,; he was a most faithful 
 
 band, and a kind and indulgenl lather; indeed, it seems that 
 tnis man, so fierce and unbending to all others, over-indulged and
 
 xvi.] THE CONQUEROR. 155 
 
 spoilt his children. His eldest son, Bichard, was killed hy a 
 stag in the New Forest. In his latter years the next son, 
 ■it, rebelled against him, as in those turbulent days, sons 
 very often did against their fathers; and he was engaged in 
 wars both with him and the King of France during the last part 
 of his life. 
 
 36. But before we come to the end of William's reign we will 
 see what became of the Etheling Edgar, who was the last man 
 of the old English royal blood. He certainly did not 
 
 have a glorious end, but at the same time it was not ^J^Jj 6 
 an unhappy one. Ever}' one seems to have been very Edgar, 
 kind to him. After the disastrous failure in North- 
 umberland he went hack to the King and Queen of Scotland. 
 They did all they could for him; they "gave him and all his 
 men ; ifts and many treasures, in skins decked with purple, 
 
 and in pelisses of marten skin, and weasel skin, and ermine skin, 
 and in golden and silver vessels;" but they advised him at last 
 to make peace with William, which he did. The king received 
 him well; no doubt glad to get him quietly on his side; and 
 he also gave him large presents. William of Malmesbury says 
 that, •• remaining at court for many years, he silently sunk into 
 contempt through his indolence, or, more mildly speaking, his 
 simplicity." He made friends with the king's son Robert, and 
 i wards went with him to Jerusalem, But he finally returned 
 t, England, received a pension, and when William of Malmes- 
 bury wrote "he was growing old in the country in privacy and 
 quiet;" agreal contrast to his grandfather Edmund, and so many 
 others of his race, who lived such short but glorious lives. 
 
 37. The disputes of William with his son Robert and the 
 King of France, do nol exactly belong to the history of England, 
 but it was during bis war with the latter that his 
 
 end came. He had conquered and set on fire the -n 10 ,/' , 
 
 ■ » r ii i 111 Doatli ot 
 
 town ot Mantes, and was riding through the hum- wiui am . 
 
 ing city, when his horse, setting his foot on the red- 
 hol ashes, stumbled, and threw him heavily against the saddle. 
 He never recovered from the hurt. They carried him to Rouen, 
 where be lay dying many weeks, during which time he made 
 what, besl arrangements he could for the disposal of tl 
 dominions and tie i lures which he ha I Bpenl hi. life in gaining, 
 but which be could nol '-airy away with him. He bequeathed 
 the Duchy of Normandy to Ins eldest Bon, Robert, and the 
 . doiu of England to the second. The young I on, Henry, 
 only received a sum of money, and uo land or dominion at all ;
 
 I,; LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORV. [leot. 
 
 but his rather, who well knew the characters of his children, 
 foretold thai the day would come when Benry would have all. 
 
 38. Be then tried, it seems, to make some reparation for the ill 
 In- had done, by ordering large sums of money to he given to 
 churches and monasteries, and particularly that the church of 
 
 Mantes, which had I d burnl down, should be rebuilt. He 
 
 fin inded many of his prisoners to be set free. 
 
 1 After all his glories and triumphs, the great conqueror 
 could barely find an honourable grave or a true mourner. At 
 the very moment when he was to be laid in a tomb in a fine 
 church he had built at Caen, a certain knight stood forth, 
 
 idly exclaiming against the robbery." The very land the 
 
 church was built upon, had belonged to him and to his father 
 
 ire him. and William had taken it from him by force to 
 
 found this new church. It was not till a sum of money had 
 
 I n paid down to appease this injured man that the funeral 
 
 I be pi"- led with. And only one of the sons he had 
 
 loved, if even one, followed his father to the grave.
 
 xvn.] THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 157 
 
 LECTURE XVII.— THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 
 
 William Rufus. His brother Robert. The kins: and the barons. The 
 English people. Anselm. The Crusades. Henry Beauclerc. His 
 marriage. The English take his part. Peace, order, and justice. 
 Stephen and Matilda. Misery of the country. The agreement and 
 promised reform. .Death of Stephen. 
 
 1. William, the Conqueror's second son, who is generally 
 called Rufus, from his red hair and complexion, lost no time in 
 rushing to England to take possession of the king- 
 dom and his father's treasure. This treasure was at . 
 Winchester, and the 'Chronicle' Bays, " It was not -Ruins 1 
 to I*-- e 1 by any man how much was there 
 gathered in gold, and in diver, and in vessels, and in robes, and 
 in-, and in many other precious tilings." 
 _. He was speedily crowned by Lanfranc, as hi* father had 
 desired. lie seems to have been one of the worsl kings England 
 ever had; more hated and detested fax than his 
 
 father had been. William the Conqueror had some- Hls 
 
 .i • ! ii-i i .i i character. 
 
 thing grand and kinglj about him, winch ] pic, 
 
 looked upon with awe and reverence as well as fear. William 
 Rufus was brutal, irreligious, and ignorant, in addition 
 
 to being, Like his father, cruel, tyrannical, and avaricious. 
 William of Malmesbury jays that in public "he had a super- 
 cilious and threatening Look, and a severe and ferocious voice j 
 in private be Liked jesting and Levity." He tells us too that he 
 "blushes t. relate the crimes of so greal aking;"bul he does 
 relate quite enough to show us what, his opinion really was. 
 " II" fe ired I rod but Little ; man not at all." 
 
 3. He di usted the people not only by his cruel taxes and 
 oppression, hut by pouring contempt on all they held mo I 
 d. It appe tra t • have been his oustom " to come into 
 church with menacing and Insolent gestures," and to treat the 
 bishops and clergy with shameful injustice. The wonderful 
 value placed on"relics" in those tiroes has been mentioned 
 already. The bom ints and other such things were placed
 
 153 LECTURES ON ENGLISh HISTORY. Dlect. 
 
 in boxes in the churches, which boxes were Bplendidly orna- 
 mented with gold, silver, and jewels, and called "shrines," and 
 they were regarded with a reverence that we in our days can 
 hardly understand When William Rufus wanted money, which 
 he Dearly always did, for he was a spendthrift as well as covet- 
 0U8, he called the relies "dead men's bones," and made the 
 abbots and bishops give np the gold and silver from their 
 Bhri 1 even their crucifixes and sacramental cups. 
 
 The 'Chronicle' Bays, "All that was hateful to God and 
 
 oppi ■ •■ to men was customary in this land in his time, and 
 
 therefore lie was mosl hateful to almost all his people, and 
 
 bo God." Moreover, he was perpetually quarrelling with 
 
 ime or other (d his brothers. 
 
 1. Just at first he did not begin so ill; indeed, as long as 
 
 Archbishop Lanfranc lived he waskeptin some kind of check, 
 
 and the people were inclined to take bis part. Almost as 
 
 soon as the Couqueror was dead, the proud, tierce lords, whom 
 
 q he could hardly tame and keep down, began to rebel again. 
 
 5. Robert, the eldest son, had been made Duke of Nor- 
 
 : lv, but he would have very much liked to he King of 
 
 ;land too. For these Frenchmen found England 
 
 R bt ef ;l v ' ' v r''' :i " ;UI '' place when they had once set foot 
 
 in it. It is all very well, as Fuller remarks, to say 
 
 jo much better than England, and when we have 
 
 have wine, ;md when we have oats they have wheat; 
 
 in .-:. irdenand England only a field. "But 
 
 ich know," ttriotic Fuller 'and I am sure we all ■■< 
 
 witli him), "that 1 If is an excellent, country, too 
 
 :■ the unthankful people which live therein; and such 
 : tningly slight secretly love and like the plenty 
 
 thereof." 
 
 Many of the great Norman lords took part with Robert; 
 partly b much pleasanter disposition than 
 
 William ; kindly bj h idle and pleasure-loving 
 
 (but that Buited them all the better, as they did not lib 
 
 . partly also because they now had lands Loth in 
 land and France, and if they did not like one master, far less 
 
 'hey wished one man to he both King 
 
 of I land Duke of Normandy, and that man to be Robert. 
 
 7. William for his part would have had no objection to be 
 
 Duke of Normandy as well, but he had no notion of giving up 
 
 and other disputes between the king and 
 turned out in the end very well fur the English,
 
 xvii.] THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 159 
 
 because, as the barons were against him, the king had to throw 
 himself upon the people, and to try and please them, and win 
 their confidence. And in after times, when the kings grew 
 strong, the barons had to do the same, and so the people rose in 
 importance and were better treated. 
 
 8. We do not find, however, that it did them much good 
 as yet, because Wdliain was so faithless. He made excellent 
 promises to the people again and again, but he never t 
 kept them. Ik-fore Lanfranc would crown him king, promises! 
 he had made him swear that he would preserve 
 
 justice and mercy throughout his kingdom, that he would defend 
 the Church and follow the archbishop's advice in all things. 
 Now, again, being in this trouble about his brother Robert, he 
 called the English together and begged them to help him. He 
 promised if they would aid him in this need, he would give them 
 a better law of their own choosing; he would have no more 
 unjust taxes, and he would not be so harsh and cruel about his 
 hunting-grounds. 
 
 80 then the English agreed to stand by him and fight for 
 him, and no doubt were all the more glad to do so from know- 
 ing and hating the French Lords as they did. 
 
 9. .Cut William never kept his word, and when Lanfranc died 
 he went from bad to worse. A tier a few years he fell ill, and 
 
 t, thinking he was going to die, he began to repenl and made 
 
 all so ;' oi 1 promi lin. Hut as soon as he got well 
 
 he forgo! them all and behaved worse than ever. 
 
 10. It was while he was ill that he did one good thing, for 
 
 which it appears he was heartily sorry afterwards; that was, that 
 he appointed a very good old man t > be Archbishop of I lanter- 
 bury in the place of Lanfranc, who bad now been dead some 
 id the king had never yet tilled up bis place, in order 
 that he might keep all the greal inc., mi' which belonged to the 
 
 for himself. The new archbishop, whose name 
 was \n elm, • > very unwilling indeed to be settled nse m ' 
 in England ach a king as he knew William to be. He 
 
 1 burch of England was a plough which ought to be 
 drawn by t of equal strength; would they then yoke him 
 
 to it, ;m old feeble sheep, with a wild bull I " 
 
 11. The king and the archbi bop ■•■ m fell out, ae was 
 likely. We must, still Leave on one tde the great di pute that 
 went on thi between the king and the Church, 
 ami for the pre ent only observe that William's violence 
 
 ih that A n 1 1m Left the country,
 
 130 LBOTURBS ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 12, Bui before lie went away be fell into a difficulty of 
 another kind— about the dress and fashion of the times. Just 
 as the clergy in the old days before the Conquest had taken 
 
 deal of trouhle in preaching against line clothes and 
 vanity, so did Anselm now. There were two special things he 
 found to complain of, One was that the noblemen and fashion- 
 able gentlemen had begun to wear long curled hair. The French 
 had perhaps for < nee condescended to learn this fashion from the 
 English, foi we saw how they bad admired Edgar the Etheling 
 and the other young Englishmen with their flowing locks when 
 William the Conqueror took them over to France. 
 
 13. Anselm would not put up with this, nor with another 
 fashion oi wearing a most extraordinary kind uf long shoes with 
 sharp point-, sometimes so long thai the ends were tied up to the 
 knees with silver chains. Innumerable sermons were preached 
 
 ■.-I these -hois; the clergy even held assemblies to denounce 
 them ; but all in vain. Hume write- about this, "Such are the 
 strange contradictious of human nature, though the clergy at that 
 time could overthrow throne-, and had authority sufficient to 
 Bend a million of men on their errand to the deserts of Asia, they 
 could never prevail against those long-pointed shoes." 
 
 1 I. We will not linger over the wars with Hubert in Nor- 
 mandy, but it will be well to explain what Hume meant by the 
 million of men going to the deserts of Asia. We 
 Th ® beard before about the love for going on pilgrimages ; 
 about ( 'nut's pilgrimage to Hume, and the troubles 
 and dangers of the pilgrims. The still holier pilgrimage to 
 Palestine and the tomb of Christ was even mure dangerous. i et 
 people longed fervently to go there, not unly from love to Christ's 
 memory, but also because they believed that if they made that 
 journey all their sins would be forgiven. They would lay by 
 the iiirt they wore when they entered Jerusalem, that 
 
 be buried in it, and they thought that would carry 
 them Btraight to heaven, 
 
 15. Terrible dang 1 difficulties beset the pilgrims at 
 
 Jerusalem. The Hi. Land by this time belonged to the Turks, 
 
 ., besides being alwi rue! people, had a great hatred for 
 
 ' ■ i igion. They began to insult and ill-use the 
 
 and pilgrims to the huly places. The patriarch, or 
 
 principal clergyman, was interrupted in his prayers, dragged 
 
 along the pavement by his hair, and thrown into a dungeon. 
 
 : Lsti ins were murdei. d and outraged, and treated like the 
 
 : criminals.
 
 xvii.] THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 131 
 
 16. The Pope, the clergy, the princes, the people of Europe 
 began to be greatly moved. Above all, the preaching of one 
 man stirre I the hearts of all. This was a Frenchman called 
 Peter, who had been a soldier, but, like some others of whom we 
 have heard, had become religious, and thereupon left the world. 
 He turned hermit (even more solitary and strict than a monk), 
 and he went on the pilgrimage to Jerusalem. There he saw the 
 state of things just described. He came back to Europe full of 
 burning zeal, and resolved to stir up the nations of Christendom 
 to put an end to the disgrace of leaving their sacred places in 
 the hands of the infidel. 
 
 17. lie went everywhere preaching. He was one of those 
 men who have the gift of a fiery eloquence, which works on the 
 heart of the multitude. Wherever he went people crowded to him, 
 and Listened with sobs and cries to his tale. Everyone was glow- 
 ing with desire to do something in honour of Christ, and to fight 
 against Sis enemies. And so an immense army arose. Princes, 
 nobles, knights, po ir men, even women and children, French, 
 Germans, Italians were seized with the same enthusiasm. The 
 
 ! them, promised forgiveness of sins to all who would 
 
 light in such a holy war, and bade them wear a red cross, in 
 
 of their religion. This was the beginning of the "Crusades" 
 
 or waw of the cross, which from this time wen- carried on, at 
 
 intervals, for 300 years. 
 
 ] B. Though we of course go into the history of these wars, 
 
 hall often hear of them again, because a great many English, 
 h. and Welsh joined them, and at different 
 times they had much to do with English history. 
 The account of the taking of Jerusalem is one of the strangest 
 in all history ; it. is 3uch a mixture of wickedness and piety ; the 
 game men seeming devils in the morning and saints inthe evening.* 
 19. We may uppose that William Etufus, the scoffing and 
 profane, did no! feel moved to join the Cru ades. But his elder 
 brother, the Duke of Normandy, did. And as ho 
 wished to have a great many followers with him, and William gets 
 ether to make a fine show, he required a great po « ses 3 of 
 deal of money -far more than fie had got, Now 
 William »aw his opportunity. He promised a large »um of 
 money to Roberl on condition of bis selling or pawning 
 Normandy to him f>r five yean. But we may feel pretty sure 
 he never meant to give it back it' he ouce got it, Roberl agreed 
 t > the birjj nil. Of coui •■ William wrung thi money ou1 of the 
 • Thii may be read in 'The Crusades,' <;. W. Cox, pp. 70 72. 
 
 M
 
 162 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lf/t. 
 
 English, and his cruelly, added to other troubles, made their 
 condition very pitiable. The Chronicler gives us very melancholy 
 little records of this time. 
 
 "1096. This was a very dismal year all over England, 
 both through manifold taxes, and also through a very sad 
 
 famine. 
 
 •• 1097. Tins was, in all things, a very sad year, and over- 
 grievous from the tempests . . . and unjust taxes, which never 
 ed. 
 •• 1098. This was a very sad year, through manifold unjust 
 taxes, and through thegreat rains, which ceased not all the year." 
 ■jii. Bui the fierce lung's end was near. One summer day he 
 went out hunting in the \, n- Forest, the fatal forest which his 
 father's cruelty had made, and where his eldest, 
 Hi^death 1,r,,tu '' r Ricbard had already met with his death. 
 According to the oil histories, there had been many 
 strati miens and prophecies ahout the king's death, lie him- 
 self hid had a dreadful dream, and so had other men; and 
 although in his usual mocking way he tried to laugh it off, it 
 was noticed that he drank more wine than usual before he set 
 forth to the chase. The last time he was seen alive he was 
 riding through the forest with only one man by his side, a 
 I mch knighl named Walter Tyrell. 
 
 21. I. it- that same evening the king's body was found alone 
 in the forest with an arrow through the heart,. No one ever 
 knew who shot that arrow. .Sir Walter Tyrell had lied away, 
 and it was thought by many that he shot the king by accident. 
 
 he always Bwore that it was not so, and that he only fled 
 
 through fear of being suspected. All we know for certain is, 
 
 which the poor persecuted people believed to 
 
 oaunted by avenging demons, the wicked sonof the, Conqueror 
 
 met with a violent death. His dead body was carried in a rough 
 
 Winch* 1 in the cathedral there, without 
 
 ; ice. 
 
 22. II 'her chance for Robert, had he been at hand ; 
 be had not yet returned from the. Crusade. And as William 
 
 happened to I"- on ■_ , '"><l terms with his younger brother Henry 
 
 then, h in England at the time, and had formed one 
 
 the hunting-party. By not Losing a moment of time, he 
 
 royal ti i i ■■-, which were still kept at Winchester, 
 
 ■ himself ohosen k i 1 1 _r . 
 
 • Henry was n tar better man than William; he was in some 
 
 things more like his father, but better also than he. The
 
 xvn.j THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 163 
 
 ' Chronicle ' says, " A good man he was, and there ^^ j 
 was great awe of him. Xo man durst misdo against enry 
 another in his time. He made peace for man and beast." "NN e 
 are so used to peace and order now that we can hardly realize 
 all those words meant then. It is true that he had a great many 
 wars in France, but England itself was at peace; so much so 
 that " foreigners willingly resorted thither, as to the only haven 
 of secure tranquillity." Above all things, he was inflexibly just, 
 and though he was stern and unrelenting to his enemies, he put 
 down tyrants and protected the poor. 
 
 2 1. The English also felt more inclined towards Henry 
 because, in one sense, he might be called an Englishman. 11'' 
 had, at least, been born in England, after his father became 
 kin;.', and he was brought up in England in the abbey or 
 m0 of Abingdon. He was clever and well-educated — 
 
 wonderfully so for those days. He was surnamed Beau-clerc, 
 which is French for "fine scholar," a title which he is said to 
 ha n d by translating 'yEsop's Fables' from Latin into 
 
 French. X" doubf this good education made him much more 
 thoughtful, prudent, and reasonable than William Rufus. Besides 
 his liking for b »oks, he had some other tastes with which we can 
 
 opathize. William of Malmesbury says, •' He was extremely 
 
 the wonders "f distanl countries; begging with great 
 
 delight, as I have- observed, from foreign kings, lions, leopards, 
 
 lynxes, or camels — animals which En] land *\<»^ not, produce," 
 
 be gravely adds. Be had also a porcupine, "lie had a park 
 
 Ued \v ';, in which he used to foster his favourites of 
 
 this kind." So that he really was the lirst to keen a sort of 
 Z loj I'd ' lardens in England. 
 
 25. Benry began h his brother had done, by making 
 
 , I pron oid he kept them much better. Bis promises 
 
 publi I in what is called a '• charter." 
 A charter, !■> begin with, only meant a sheet of i t 3 . 
 paper, or anything which could be written upon; 
 hut, it has com.' to mean a formal paper on which are written the 
 rights and liberties of a people, or of a town, or of any bodj oi 
 men. If these things are only floating in men's minds they are 
 apl to get confused or forgotten, A strong man maydenythem, 
 and a weak man would be unable to prove them; an ignorant 
 man may nol even know of them ; hut, if th< y ■"■•• once written 
 down they are a protection t" the poor and a curb to the rich. 
 We »h all 1 iv eharter was in a 
 
 lit for frei dom mi re than a century afterwards, Be promised 
 
 M 2
 
 i.i LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [riser. 
 
 liberty to the church, to the barons, and to all the people ; and 
 he made the barons promise to do as much for their under-men 
 or vassals as he did for them. 
 
 !li~ i id act was to call' hack the Archbishop An- 
 
 M-lm. and to promise to he guided hy his advice. Though he made 
 
 this promise, and though he and the archbishop lived on the 
 
 whole harmoniously, yet the disputes about Church matters did 
 
 But, at least, Henry consented to have his long curls 
 
 cut "11' : Next, to show as clearly as possible the line he intended 
 
 to take, which was to conciliate the English people, 
 
 and be their true king rather than tyrant, he made 
 
 a marriage which pleased them heartily. He chose 
 
 for his wife the princess of Scotland, niece to the Etheling 
 
 ir, and greal granddaughter of Edmund Ironside, "of the true 
 
 royal line of England," writes the pleased chronicler. 
 
 27. This great compliment to the old royal family was very 
 
 dear to the nation, though the French lords were scornful and 
 
 disdainful. They pretended to compare Henry and the queen 
 
 to an English farmer and his wife, and called them " Farmer 
 
 Goderich and his cummer Godgifu," which are two old Anglo- 
 
 m names. We may be sure Henry was too sensible to take 
 
 much notice of thai nonsense, though William of Malmesbury 
 
 •• he heard these taunts with a terrific grin ; " but he kept 
 
 He had pleased the people whom he wished to please, 
 
 and he gol a very g 1 wife for himself. Her real name was 
 
 Edith, but Bhe had to take ;i French name now, and was called 
 Matilda, as Henry's mother had been. This Matilda, the Con- 
 queror's wife, was also descended in a side-way from Allied ; 
 and through these two princesses all our kings and queens, down 
 i" Q . could trace- their pedigree to Egbert and 
 
 : Woden, if they liked. 
 
 •j--. Matilda, like Henry, bad been well educated for those times, 
 
 and had been brought up in England, in a nunnery. When she 
 
 line queen she encouraged scholars to come to her court, 
 
 and w.i them. Above everything she liked 
 
 itiful music and singing, and was even "thoughtlessly pro- 
 
 Wiiliaui, towards people with melodious voicea She 
 
 did not travel about with her hu-buid, but had a palace at 
 
 W( r, where these scholars and musicians visited her. 
 
 '■ I n the king's liberality commanded; this her own kindness 
 
 and atfabilil 9 . • .- singularly holy j by no means 
 
 despicable in point of beauty." This rather faint praise makes 
 
 uinot have been remarkably handsome ; but she
 
 xvti.] THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 165 
 
 was very good to the sick and poor, and very devout in going 
 to church. 
 
 29. Soon after Henry had thus established himself on the 
 throne, and won the favour of the English, his brother Robert 
 came home from the Crusades, and, of course, again wanted to get 
 the kingdom of England. But there was no chance for him. 
 Henry was wise, prudent, and determined; in all respects a 
 strong, clever man. Robert was good-natured, weak, and idle. 
 "He forgot offences and forgave faults," writes William of 
 Malmesbury, " beyond what he ought to have done ; he answered 
 all who applied to him exactly as they wished, and, that he might 
 
 .^not dismiss them in sadness, promised to give what was out of 
 his power." If people went before him to complain of ill-usage 
 and injustice, though he would feel for them at the moment, and 
 be angry, he soon forgot all about it, and did nothing. Thus 
 "he so excited the contempt of the Normans that they con- 
 sidered him as of no consequence whatever." So that, far from 
 i 1 1 lt England, he lost Normandy. It fell out as William 
 the Conqueror had foretold on his death bed — Henry obtained all. 
 
 30. It is impossible to defend the way Henry treated his 
 brother j and no one can help feeling sorry for Robert; but ho 
 was in no way lit to be a ruler of men. He was at ^ 
 
 li I put in prison and kepi there till the day of his Robert 
 
 th. There are two quite different accounts of the 
 way he w;i- treated : one, that he was very cruelly used, had his 
 
 put out, and at last died of a broken heart ; the other, thai 
 he received greal kindness and attention, and was "provided 
 with abundance of amusement and food." We may hope the 
 
 is the truth, but we do not know, lie l.t t. a son, William, 
 who made many efforts to gel hark his father's duchy ; buttono 
 purp — , and he died young, leaving Henry the undisputed lord 
 both of England and Normandy. 
 
 Daring these conflicts Henry tool pains to teach the English 
 how to fight against the Normans, who sided with Robert; and 
 especially agaiust the cavalry, to which they had been bo un- 
 med. He weni amongsl the ranks him -elf, training and 
 encouraging them, so that by and bye the English lost all fear of 
 the French. 
 
 31. Though all the war- took place in France, England was 
 
 i to pay for them; and there was a greal deal of dis- 
 
 . owing to stormy seasons and bad harvest i. Another grievance 
 
 of which the people had to complain was the plundering of the 
 
 king's followers when he travelled about. These people were
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lec*. 
 
 under no Borl of control ; they would enter the houses of the 
 farmers and peasants, without any permission, to eat and drink 
 whatever they could find, never offering to pay for it, and insult- 
 ing the owners and their wives and daughters in every shameful 
 way. Out of mere insolence and cruelty, whatever they could 
 not eat they would carry oil' and sell, or even burn, and what 
 remained of the liquor which they could not drink they would 
 wash their horses' legs with. Henry, at any rate, after a time, 
 }»ut a stop to this, and punished some of the offenders very 
 severely ; but it appears the country people were still compelled 
 to furnish certain things for the court without being paid for 
 them. 
 
 32. Still, on the whole, the English people were decidedly 
 
 i- off now than they had been under the two former kings. 
 
 They began to be of more importance, and to feel 
 
 Improvement that they were so. Besides their having learnt to 
 
 'tion'ofrtw" li " 1 ' t al "^ to Stand tlu ' ir •- l ' ouml a £ ainst the French, 
 
 English, there was another thing which helped them. This 
 
 was, that the towns began to be larger, and richer, 
 
 and of more consequence. Almost all the people in the towns 
 
 English, and by degrees they got a great many privileges, 
 
 don especially ; they were free from many of the taxes and 
 
 of the country, and they were allowed in many 
 
 ways to govern themselves, as they do now. So that though 
 
 there were siill many troubles, things were improving, and if 
 
 Henry had left behind him a son as strong and sensible as 
 
 himself, England would have begun to hold up her head 
 
 n. 
 
 • Bui a hitter misfortune befell the king. His wife Matilda, 
 
 who died in L118, had left him but one son and one daughter. 
 
 The young prince, her son, was gay and wild, but he 
 
 Death of th '''"^ '" '''"' ' '"'" 6 erms of something brave and gener- 
 
 king'a son. 0U8 ' "" wa£ but nineteen, and might, it was to lie 
 
 hop .v into a wise man under his father's train- 
 
 i ample. Bui in crossing over from France into England 
 
 i He with hisyoungand jovial companions, 
 
 and his hall , In trying to save whom he gave up his own 
 
 all peri ier. Only one poor man of all the gallant 
 
 ship-load reached the land in safety. The king's happy days 
 
 i now ; they say he never smiled again. Though he 
 
 : wards married another lady, he had no second son. 
 
 • il. He now tried to make bis daughter .Matilda or Maude his 
 
 This would have been very difficult in any case, as it was
 
 x . ,,.] THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 167 
 
 an unheard-of tiling, either in England or France, 
 for a woman to reign ; and what in the end made it T ^^J™ 88 
 really impossible was, that Maude was a very proud, 
 arrogant, and unpopular woman, not at all like her mother. She 
 had°been married to the Emperor of Germany, hut was now a 
 widow. Her father next made her marry a French prince, the 
 Count of Anjou. He then caused all the barons to swear that 
 she should be cpieen, and they would be faithful to her after her 
 father's death. The first who swore the oath was her cousin 
 Stephen, son of Henry's sister Adela. 
 
 35. Soon after these things were fairly settled, as he hoped, 
 Henry died in France, but was brought to England to.be buried. 
 That year there had hem an eclipse of the sun. 
 
 •• Men were greatly wonder-stricken and affrighted, j^thof 
 and said that a great thing should come thereafter. Henry. 
 So it did, for that same year the king died." 
 
 No sooner was he dead than his strong hand was missed. 
 " Every man that could" says the ' Chronicle,' " forthwith robbed 
 anoth And it' peo pie had thought him stern, and complained 
 
 of the taxes in his time, they very soon wished him back again. 
 For now came b time of such dreadful misery and trouble as had 
 ne been known. 
 
 36. I'n-t of all, instead of peace, came war. Though all the 
 lord* had bwoid thai they would support Matilda, many of them 
 at once deserted her. Her cousin Stephen, in spite stephen 
 of iii- M.iths. came forward as a candidate for the 
 
 throne. He was a greal contrast to Matilda. Shu was haughty 
 and overhearing; he was gay and pleasant. He was ready to 
 joke and feast w Ltfa anybody, even quite low people, and to make 
 kind promisee to any one, though he very seldom fulfilled them. 
 Jn fact, he m" i have been rather Like bis uncle Robert. Bui a 
 great many people in England took bis part, among others, the 
 men of London, who were grown so important now as to be 
 looked upon almo I b - nobles. 
 
 37. Matilda, on ber ride, had hi t ancle the King of Scotland, 
 her half-brother the Ear] of GJouce ter (an illegitimate son of 
 Henry), and a great many nobles. The Scotch army „. ., 
 
 Civil w.ir. 
 
 wa - ■ 1 1 tx iten, but the Earl of Gloucester was not 
 
 ily pul down. Hi i" have 1 d a very coui 
 
 and clever man, and mo I faithful to his istei i au e. Bui 
 
 ephen was firsl in the field, he was crowned kite', and Matilda 
 could never get hei elf crowned queen. So this i- called the reign 
 oJ Stephen, though it wa* hardlj a reigu really, bul a con itant war.
 
 is LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 38. Like the other kings, he made good promises of justice, 
 mercy, and favour to the Church, and, in particular, he promised 
 to the people the laws of Edward the ( Jonfessor. Though Edward 
 the Confessor had nol made any special laws, his reign was always 
 looked back to by the English people as the last one when they 
 hail been peaceably governed by their own old national law, and 
 they always wished their new kings to he like Edward, whose 
 weak points were now quite forgotten. But Stephen never kept 
 
 promises ; perhaps he could oot. The misery of the people 
 bed its heighl while he was called king. 
 
 39. Even bad there not been the civil war, there was now no 
 one who could keep the barons in order. Innumerable new 
 
 les were built, ea sh a den of tyrants and robbers. 
 
 The ace. unit of this period, given in the 'Chronicle,' 
 
 is one of the most terrible pages in English history, and we must 
 
 read it as it stands there if we wish to realize it. All other words 
 
 would seem poor and cold in comparison. The iron had entered 
 
 into the soul of the man who wrote this. "They filled the land 
 
 full of castles. They greatly oppressed the wretched people by 
 
 making them work at these castles; and when the castles were 
 
 finished they filled them with devils and evil men. Then they 
 
 t.>.,k those whom they suspected to have any goods, by night and 
 
 by day. n both men and women, and they put them in 
 
 for then _ >ld and silver, and tortured them with pains 
 
 unspeakable, for oever were any martyrs tormented as the-e were." 
 
 ■ mosl piercing description of the horrible tortures 
 
 that were invented to force these innocent prisoners to give up 
 
 their g Is. After that he adds, "Many thousands they 
 
 exhausted with hunger. I cannot and 1 may not tell of all the 
 
 wounds and all the tortures that they inflicted upon the wretched 
 
 men of this land; and this state of things lasted the nineteen 
 
 } that Stephen was king, and ever grew worse and worse. . . . 
 
 Then was corn dear, and tiesh, and cheese, and butter, for there 
 
 Done in the land; wretched men starved with hunger ; some 
 
 lived on alms who had en-while been rich; some fled the country ; 
 
 er was there more misery, and never acted heathens worse 
 
 . At length they spared neither church nor churchyard, 
 
 but they took all that was valuable therein, and then burned the 
 
 church and all together The bishops and clergy were eveT 
 
 ing ihein, but this to them was nothing, for they were all 
 
 and lejii-oliate. The earth bare no corn, — 
 
 might as well have tilled the sea, — for the land was all ruined 
 
 b deeds; and it was .said openly that Christ and His saints 
 
 •t."
 
 xvii. 1 THE CONQUEROR'S SONS. 16S 
 
 40. We must pass over the history of the battles and sieges. 
 It is not of much interest which of the two parties got the better 
 for the time. Once both Stephen and the Earl of Gloucester 
 were in prison. Once Matilda herself was nearly made prisoner, 
 and had to escape on foot through the snow, clad in white that 
 she might not be seen. And so it went on through those 
 wretched years, till at last every one was worn out, Th ace 
 and through the exertions of the bishops and the 
 
 Pope's legate a peace was made. 
 
 41. Stephen was to remain king for his life. Matilda A\as 
 never to be made queen ; but she received, what, probably, she 
 valued more, the promise that her son should be king in his turn ; 
 for with all her faults she seems to have been a good mother. 
 Stephen had l--t his only son, and Matilda's son, who had been 
 mi infant when his grandfather died, was now a grown young 
 man. and one of whom we have much to hear. For the present 
 Stephen adopted him as his son and heir, and the land was at 
 pea> 
 
 ; 2. < rreat plana were now made for reform : the soldiers were 
 
 to be Bent home; the knights were to turn their swords into 
 
 ploughshares and their spears into pruningdrooks ; the desolate 
 
 tttry was to be cultivated again; oxen, cows, and sheep were 
 
 i , be given to the poor farmers; thieves and robbers were to be 
 
 . and many other good resolutions were made But 
 
 .hen did not live long enough to carry them out, n54 
 
 even if he wished to do bo. He died the next year.
 
 170 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mxt. 
 
 LECTURE XVIII. -HENRY PLANTAGEXET. 
 
 acterof Henry. His marriage. His dominions. Distinction between 
 lish and Normans disappears. Destruction of the castles. Con- 
 dition of Ireland. The Conquest. 
 
 1. We are at last about to lose the company of our faithful 
 friend, the Anglo-Saxon 'Chronicle,' which has been our guide 
 and teacher through so many centuries, but which now comes to 
 an end suddenly. No one wrote anymore English books of any 
 . excepl a few sermons and such like, for fifty years, though 
 there are very good ones in Latin. 
 
 We shall not easily forget the terrible description of the times 
 
 of Stephen and Matilda, written by the last of the " chroniclers; " 
 
 but it is a consolation to think that before he finally laid down 
 
 his pen the dawn of better days had appeared. Some of the 
 
 latesl words in the 'Chronicle' are about Henry, the son of 
 
 Matilda, who was to be the king after Stephen. i: All folk loved 
 
 him, for he did good justice and made peace." Thus England 
 
 •i to lift up her head in hope. 
 
 ■_'. Henry II. had a long reign of thirty-five years, and many 
 
 • important and interesting things happened in those years. 
 
 The man himself is also very interesting. He was 
 
 1154 -_ ver, like his grandfather, Eenry I., and well 
 
 k" ry8 brought up. His education hud been looked after 
 
 by In- brave uncle, Robert, Earl of Gloucester, who 
 
 . i sb lar as he was a soldier, if we may believe 
 
 what his learned friends, of whom William of Malmesbury was 
 
 \ r,f him. There, is a curious letter written about Henry 
 
 i man who knew him vmy well, and who had been tutor to 
 
 her king, the King of Sicily. Hesaystbis latter had learned 
 
 od deal, bul hi- tutor went away "he threw away 
 
 his books, and gave himself up to the usual idleness of palaces." 
 
 Henry II. was very differenl from this. He never left off the 
 
 f private reading, and he surrounded himself with learned 
 
 . .nd delighted in conversing with them on dillicult and
 
 x.Hi.] HENRY PLANTAGENET. 171 
 
 interesting subjects, so that lie might have been called Beau-clerc 
 also. He was, moreover, wonderfully active and industrious in 
 other ways. He would travel about so fast that the King of 
 France, who was rather lazy, said of him, " He neither rides on 
 land nor pails on water, but Hies through the air like a bird." 
 He went through the country, as our good old kings used to do 
 examining into everyone's conduct, and especially as to how the 
 judges did their duty. This must have been doubly necessary 
 after those nineteen years of lawlessness. 
 
 3. "Ih- never sits down," says the letter before referred to, 
 -^•except on horseback, or when he is eating. He has forever in 
 his hands 1 words, hunting-nets, or arrows, except he is at 
 
 council or at his books ; " for, like all his family, he was fond of 
 hunting and hawking. lb' was also very resolute and determined 
 about everything. If he once loved a person, he loved him 
 always ; and if he onee disliked a person, hardly ever altered his 
 mind. He jood soldier, but above aU things, " glorious in 
 
 peace, which he desires for his people as the most precious of 
 earthly gifts. . . . No one is more gentle to the distressed, more 
 
 affable to the ] ', more overbearing to the proud. . . . No one 
 
 could be more dignified in speaking, more cautious at table, more 
 m derate in drinking, more splendid in gifts, more generous in 
 aim 
 
 I. With all this dignity and affability, he was subject to the 
 most furious and undignified fits of |>issi..n. They say that 
 when in a rage lie, was more Like a wild beast than a man; 
 his eyes, which were generally calm and dove-like, Hashed tire 
 and wore like lightning; he would roll on tin' floor, striking and 
 tearing whatever came in his way; he would gnaw the very straw 
 out of his bed. 'I'll'' princes of his race were all Bubject to these 
 uncontrollable and mosl unprincely rages ; they believed that t bey 
 were partly descended from a demon, and accounted for them in 
 
 that way. 
 
 From this description we Bhould judge that Henry was likely 
 reat king, b bould expert a) o that with thai fi< rce 
 
 temper be might meel with many misfortunes. Eis reign 
 indeed a very grand on«, l>ut we cannot ay in Life wa happy. 
 
 .' II made one great and fatal mistake in the very beginning 
 of hi- career, and in a most mi poit a nt, p. lint hi- m image. While 
 .-till quite young, before he waa bang oi England at 
 all, I married ; nol choo ing a •■ iod, and marr i a(ro 
 
 loving wife, but one who, though nol at .ill ■ I, wa 
 
 nch. She was older than hi had already been
 
 172 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 married to the French king, and had behaved so wickedly that 
 he was obliged to pu1 herawayj bul shewas the heiress of great 
 lands in France, of Guienne and Poitou. It is melancholy to 
 think that this clever and, in many ways, so good young prince 
 Bhould have chosen so bad a wife. This false step of his was 
 at the rool of many of the great misfortunes which came upon 
 his later years. 
 
 6. Eowever, he obtained with his wife Eleanor her great inherit- 
 ance, and so, in one way and another, he was one of the most 
 
 powerful sovereigns of the time. Be had England 
 
 , • s and Normandy from his mother and his grandfather, 
 
 Maine and Anjou from his father, Poitou and 
 
 Guienne from his wife. Thus England was but a part, and not 
 
 at all tli Bst part, of his dominions. Besides all these, he 
 
 was over-lord (in a certain way) of Scotland ami Wales, and 
 
 ime also over-lord of Brittany in France. During his reign, 
 
 part of Ireland was conquered, of which he also was 
 
 >r-lord. 
 
 7. His surname, Plantagenet, was not such a descriptive one 
 as Bean clerc, hut it grew to be very famous. It only means "the 
 plant of broom." It had hecome a sort of fashion in those day-, 
 ami was thought very meritorious and religious, for great men to 
 
 i ■ humble name as a sort of disguise; and it is said 
 Henry's father, from some such motive, had chosen to call 
 himself by the name of tins wild and common llower, and to 
 wear it as a badge in his bat. 
 
 8. Now Henry Plantagenet became King of England, and, as we 
 i <■}. "all filk loved him." We may 1"' sure they did not love 
 him less for one of the very first things he did, which was 
 
 .all down an immense number of those terrible castles. 
 
 It has been -<id that he destroyed 1100 of them. The land 
 
 begun to breathe again as oon as that awful weight 
 
 lifted off it. Henry brought the Lords of all the castles 
 
 which were left, to be obedient to him and to the laws, and he 
 
 dished justice and peace everywhere. W hat a contrast to 
 
 those nineteen years of misery and fighting. 
 
 '.'. The nation was now happy and united. It was nearly 
 
 LOO the Battle of Hastings. Nobody living could 
 
 remember it. Only a few old men must have 
 
 Union of .till lived who had, perhaps, seen William the 
 
 English and < • un , (U( . rur j M their young days, or recollected the 
 
 ravaging of Northumberland. It no longer seemed 
 
 different nations living in England. So
 
 xv:n.] IIEXRY PLANTAGENET. 17:) 
 
 many Norm in gentlemen had married the daughters and heiresses 
 of Englishmen that the distinction was almost forgotten. The 
 sons of those marriages, living in their English mothers' ami 
 English grandfathers' home, surronnded hy their property and 
 servants, must have felt like Englishmen. The king was not 
 exactly an Englishman, hut neither was he exactly a Norman, 
 for his father was the French Count of Anjou ; but he partly 
 belonged to both, for he was the great-grandson of William the 
 Norman, and the grandson of the English Matilda. 
 
 10. Still the two languages went on. The upper classes, the 
 lords, and the bishops, and the courtiers, were mostly accustomed 
 to talk French, as their fathers and grandfathers had done, but 
 they were nevertheless called Englishmen. The lowest class of 
 all. the poor men in the country, all talked English still — the 
 old-fashioned English, which is sometimes called Anglo-Saxon. 
 Bui in- -; of the people in the country, perhaps all, except in this 
 very lowest class, could, talk both languages, or could at least 
 understand them when they heard them spoken. And there 
 was no longer any feeling of their being two nations. 
 
 11. As if Henry hail not lands and titles enough already, he 
 soon bi gan to casl his eyes about for more, and set his heart 
 upon conquering [reland. Strange to Bay, he obtained 
 
 ion from the Pope to do this. We shall soon ie an ■ 
 Henry was not in general much inclined to humble 
 himself before the Church, and we might well wonder what the 
 Pope could bave bad to do with this matter; bul it was doubt- 
 claim to be the lord of all islands that Henry 
 applied for bis sanction, intendi Boon as he bad time, to 
 
 ma iter thai country. 
 
 1 •_'. It eeme thai we have, hitherto heard bo little 
 
 about this greal island, so near a neighbour to I ugland. Now 
 and then we me little hint or fragment of information 
 
 about it, but thai is alL Hundreds of years before, [reland 
 been noted for holiness and learning. While our fore- 
 thers were till heathen barbarians, the [rish had held on 
 to their Christianity, and bad Bent mi ionaries to England, 
 [reland indeed was called " the isle of aints." Bui by this time 
 they had fallen from their high i fcato, their Chri Cianity had 
 sunk into superstition, and their learning had vani hed quite 
 awa 
 
 The In li had had as much trouble, as the Engli h with the 
 Danes, and a greal many had settled down in the country. 
 Once Harold had taken refuge there in the days oi Edward ihe
 
 174 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [ibct. 
 
 Confessor. We know too that the English used to sell slaves 
 to [reland from the market at Bristol. But on the whole there 
 was nol mnch intercourse between the two islands. 
 
 1 :'>. Now, however, the English ami their king began to take 
 a real interest, in the affairs of [reland, and to covet the "emerald 
 isle" for themselves. We have the history of all this written (in 
 Latin) by a very clever man, an archdeacon named Gerald, 
 or Giraldus, who was chosen by Henry IT. as tutor to one 
 of his .sons, and who was a near relation to some of the 
 
 hts who fought in [reland. Be also went there himself, 
 and has told us whal he saw, and a great deal more that be 
 heard. What he says that he himself knew we may readily 
 believe, but the things which were told him, and which he as 
 readily believed, are truly astonishing and ludicrous. It shows 
 us what the credulity of those times was, when a well-educated 
 man, very proud too of Ids wisdom and good sense, will, in all 
 g 1 faith, record such tales. For example, he was quite pre- 
 pared to believe thai men and women were sometimes char 
 into wdd beasts. II" tells a long story of some benighted 
 travellers who were greatly alarmed by a wolf coming up and 
 speaking to them. The wolf, seeing they were frightened, "added 
 some orthodox word-, referring to God." The said wolf, after a 
 
 • many other strange thin e them his company during 
 
 the whole night al the fire, behaving more like a man than a 
 ;iid telling them that he had been punished for his sins 
 by being turned from a man into a wolf, by a "s.dnt" in the 
 neighbourhood. This Last rather confirms what the archdea 
 tells us very calmly in another place, that "the saints of tins 
 country appear to be of a vindictive temper" even in the life 
 ith. and he gives us his way of accounting for ii ; 
 namely, that there was no other means of keeping the thieves 
 and other impious persons in any sort of order. 
 
 1 1. Hut though lie was thus ready to accept whatever marvels 
 were told him by others, the facta which he relates of his own 
 knowled ctly accurate, ami .-how him to have keen 
 
 od observer and reasoner. We will now turn to some of 
 
 1."). The [riflh people wen- at, this time in a very savage con- 
 dition. It will he remembered that they were of the Celtic 
 family, nearly allied to the Welsh (or ancient 
 
 people l;,: ttd '''" Scotcl] Highlanders. Though 
 
 the;.- had learnl the Christian religion so many 
 
 hundred \> , their Christianity had now fallen so low
 
 xvin]. HENRY PLANTAGENET. 175 
 
 that it did not seem to do them much good. They had made 
 hardly any progress in civilization. In some of the more remote 
 parts they had not yet learned Christianity, nor did they even 
 know how to till the ground, to plough, to sow, or to make 
 bread. Like the old Britons, what little clothing they had was 
 made of skins. They lived on iiesh, fish, and milk, and had 
 never Been either bread or cheese. Some of these men fell in 
 with a few sailors from England, and when they left them, 
 carried back a loaf and a cheese, that they might astonish their 
 countrymen by the sight of the provisions the strangers ate. 
 They bad aev< i been baptized, nor heard of the name of Christ. 
 
 16. Even in the more civilized parts they did but little in the 
 way of tillage, though the ground was very fertile; nor Avould 
 they take much trouble in planting fruit-trees. Work of any 
 sort, indeed, was highly disagreeable to them. This is what 
 
 ideacon < rerald says of their character : " Whatever natural 
 
 gifts they p are excellent, but in whatever requires industry 
 
 they are, worthless." The one thing about which they would 
 
 pains was music, and in that lie says " they were incom- 
 parably more skilful than any other nation I have ever .seen.'' 
 d , i on two instruments, the harp and the tabor, which 
 
 is a sort of little di 
 
 17. Though tiiis taste and love for music one might have 
 thought would I med an 1 3oftened their nature, they 
 
 been frightfully cruel and ferocious. In the war with 
 the English, which Gerald describ . one of the [rish kings, the 
 very one on whose Bide the English were fighting, had a heap of 
 his enemies' heads Laid before him, 200 in number; and he 
 
 tied them ova- one by our in order to recognize them, 
 thrice Lifted hi- bands to beaven in the i of bis joy, and 
 
 with a loud voice returned thanks to God most high. Aim 
 them was the head of one be mortally hated above all the n t, 
 and taking it up l>y th ind hair, be tore it with his teeth." 
 
 L8. Ii- land was at this time divided into five kin dom , the 
 I which were always quarrelling and fighting. At las! 
 one of them, Dermot, the Kiug of Leinster, was driven out of 
 
 dominions altogether, and thereupon bethought him of 
 getting help from the powerful Kin • of England. II 
 cording] I over to Bri bol, but finding thai Benry was 
 
 in the south of France, be travelled after him there, and, 
 obtaining an audience, be promised that if Benry would take 
 hi> part and el him back in bis kingdom he would own bim for 
 his lord, and become bis \ a jal.
 
 176 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [uxt. 
 
 19. Henry had no time just then to attend to this business 
 hima I he gave the [rishraan leave to seek help among his 
 subjects, and gave any of his subjects who chose, to help him fall 
 permission to do bo. Dermot accordingly came Lack to England, 
 
 and by and bye found helpers, the principal of 
 
 1169 - whom was the Earl of Pembroke, generally called 
 
 Earl Richard Strongbow. He and some other English 
 
 strong and Welsh noblemen and gentlemen, the cousins of 
 
 our friend the archdeacon among them, went over to Ireland with 
 
 their men. Though they weie all of Norman descent, on the 
 
 ide it Least, I cue was quite dropped now, and 
 
 .Id always calls them the English. He himself is generally 
 
 called Giraldus Cambrensis, or Gerald the Welshman. 
 
 20. After Borne hard fighting and much cruelty they con- 
 quered their opponents. One instance will show how hard- 
 ted many of the English or Anglo-Normans still were. 
 
 king ill" town of Waterford, they had in their hands 
 nt v prisoners, the principal men of the town. There was a 
 discussion among the leaders what should be done with these 
 men. One of them, named Raymond, wished to be merciful to 
 them, and allow them to be ransomed; but another, making a 
 fierce speech demanding their death, his comrades approved of 
 wretched prisoners had their bones broken, and were 
 then thrown into the sea and drowned. What should we say 
 if an English general treated his prisoners in such a way now 1 ? 
 
 21. Aiter these fights and successes, Richard Strongbow 
 married Dermot's daughter Eva, and when, not long after, 
 Dermol died, Strongbow, in right of his wife, became Km 
 
 I. .jn-:-r. But this w.i- rather too much for Henry II., who 
 wished to be king himself, and accordingly Strongbow thought 
 it prudent to give up the kingship to his master; Henry allowing 
 him, in return. t>> keep very large poss< 3sions for himself. 
 
 22. Whil-t all this '■' iir-: on, and the English, gaining 
 more and more of the mastery, the clergy of Ireland held an 
 
 mbly, in which they all agreed that their troubles were a 
 punishmenl Benl on the rrish by God for their sins, and, abovu 
 
 all, for the wicked trade in .-laves which they had so long 
 led on with the English, and it was therefore decreed tliat all 
 ;. in the country should be set at liberty. This, 
 
 I believe, is the very lasi time that we hear of the slave-trade in 
 
 •land. 
 
 23. Henry at last found time to come over to Ireland himself, 
 and nearly all the kings and chiefs of the country, especiahy
 
 xviii.] HENRY PLANTAGENET. 177 
 
 I leric of Connaught, who was the head of all, 1171. 
 submitted to him as their over-lord, and did him Submission 
 homage. This was about Christmas time, and many of l ^ e Irisl1 
 of the Irish princes came to Dublin to visit the P lluces - 
 king, "and were much a-tonished at the sumptuousness of his 
 entertainments, and the splendour of his household." It is said 
 that a very large hall was built on purpose for the king to hold 
 his court. It reminds us of the ancient Britons (relations of 
 the Irish) to hear that this hall was built, "after the fashion of 
 the i '," of white wicker-work, peeled osiers, for we all 
 
 • remember the "palaces" of the Britons, and their first little 
 Christian church at Glastonbury. Wicker-work dwellings seem 
 to have been a specialty of the Celtic races; we shall hear of 
 them again among other branches of that family. 
 
 2 L King Henry received and feasted the Irish chieftains, and 
 
 that at these feasts they learnt to eat cranes, "which 
 
 loathed." He stayed in Ireland a i\-\v month-, and, as 
 
 he had done iii England, restored peace and order. With the 
 
 help of the clergy he also made many laws for improving the 
 
 habit- of thi.' people. But alter he went away 
 
 things soon 1 ime as bad as ever, and the English The Eu ? lisl1 
 
 noblemen who remained behind grew almost as 
 
 and wild a- the native-. They established themselves 
 
 chiefly along thi :i and southern coast, and the part where 
 
 lived - fterwards called "The Pale;" they and the 
 
 native Irish hated each other bitterly for a time, though al'ter- 
 
 :- the English allied then to their wild neighbours, 
 
 and became, as was said, "more [rish than the Irish." 
 
 We cannol Bee that any lasting good came of the conquest of 
 m h a- it - that Henry added another lord- 
 
 p to his t i 1 1 ■
 
 ITS LECTURES ON ENGLISH I1ISTORY. Lleot. 
 
 LECTURE XIX.— CnURCH AND STATE. 
 
 Disputes between Churcli and State. Investitures. Ecclesiastical courts. 
 rhomasa Becket as chancellor— as archbishop. Excommunication. 
 Death oi Becket. He is looked on as a saint. Henry does penance. 
 
 1. Wb nri-t now turn our attention to the great disputes 
 
 which bad 1 n going on so long between the king and the 
 
 Church. As was noticed above, we never found 
 " sp anything of this sort before the Norman Conquest. 
 
 In those old tinus the king, the earls, and the thanes agreed 
 perfectly well with the archbishops and bishops. No one 
 j.tl. r th lughl of any distinction between Church and State. 
 Very litl heard of the Pope, except when an archbishop 
 
 had • • Rome for bis pall, as a sort of token that he was 
 
 the head or principal bishop, and that the Church of England 
 owned his supremacy. 
 
 2. Bui things were much 'hinged now, and we have very 
 
 often to hear of great disputes and fierce quarrels between the 
 
 king and the Church. We must not imagine that this was 
 
 there was any difference in their religious opinions. In 
 
 the I': ' tanl Reformation, several centuries later, there were 
 
 i Mt countries like ours now refuse 
 
 ;'. thing- which the Roman Church teaches: we 
 not pray to the Vir.in Mary and the saints, we have a 
 different belief about tl i iment, and many other things. At 
 
 the tin, peaking of this was not so. The king, the 
 
 lords, and all the people believed jusl the same as the Pope and 
 the clergy, and the disputes weir not about doctrines and creeds, 
 but were all about power and mastery. 
 
 rincipal m ite were two. The first 
 
 to the ■ □ whether the bishops and archbishops 
 
 of the king or of the Pop ■. '1 his had 
 h k ^ n ? and begun to be ntention even between 
 
 Henry I. and Ansebn, bul a they were both mode- 
 ate an • , they did not come to an open quarrel. The
 
 six.] CHURCH AND STATE. 179 
 
 king demanded that they should do homage to him like the 
 other .meat lords, and that he should have the power of giving 
 them a ring and a stall", which were the signs of their office, as 
 the old kings of England had always dime. But the Pope had 
 now begun to claim this power for himself or his legate, and to 
 say that the king had no right at all to the homage of the 
 spiritual lords. 
 
 4. The other matter in dispute was, that there were now two 
 
 sets of courts of law : one for lay-people, and one for clergymen. 
 
 This plan had been brought in by William the Con- . 
 
 i £ ix i ' v ii ti ,,, ,. Tneecclesias- 
 
 queror, but it was found to work very badly, tienrj tical coung 
 
 1 1, determined that if a clergyman committed a crime 
 
 should be tried by the judge, and punished as any other 
 
 man would be. The clergy would not hear of this; neither 
 
 they nor their I would submit to be under the temporal 
 
 r, as it was called. 
 
 5. By this time the law of the celibacy of the clergy, that 
 the clergy should have no wives, was quite established. 
 
 law, as we know, had been introduced by Dunstan about 200 
 
 before. Bui the ne on even up to the time 
 
 of Henry L, who was inclined to take the part of the married 
 
 I «i le' tell us of a great council which was 
 
 in London, a.d. L129, which began on Monday and ended 
 
 on Friday, con i ting of bishops, abbots, and other churchmen. 
 
 " When it cam< ill about archdeacons' wives, and 
 
 they 6hould leave them by St. Andrew's 
 
 ; and he who would not 'I" thai should forego his church, 
 
 and bis house, and Ins home. This ordained the Archbishop of 
 
 terbury, and all the suffragan bishops who were then in 
 
 England ; and the kin hem all home, and o 
 
 went home; and all the decrees stood for nought; all In Id 
 
 Lcii . did before." But this 
 
 did not last much longer ; and now the clergy were all unm u ried, 
 
 or ii t ihem had w was quite in . and the 
 
 wives wi ; ! v called " concubines." 
 
 6. Tim i tl ■■•lint be mid b oJ the 
 in. It' bbi hop and the bi mops were all undi r the 
 
 Pope, and uol under th l the cli re all under the 
 
 bisho] ■ I aol und r the king's ju ind none of 
 
 them had any wives and families to make tl I I other 
 
 peopl . emed quite distinct from all th i : >fthenation. 
 
 Henry could not stand this, He loved power and u . but 
 
 he also irly that it could uot be fi i I lie n J go id I 
 
 ■ -
 
 [80 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 | ur of the country to have two masters, the king and the 
 Pope. The celibacy of the clergy he left untouched, but on the 
 oth( r two points he was determined. 
 
 7. Before guing farther into the history of this strife, it is well 
 
 to notice thai in the end, and after a fight of many hundred 
 
 years, the English nation has decided that the king (or the 
 
 civil power) was in the right. All the greal principles that 
 
 Henry Land Henry [I. strove for are now the law of the land ; 
 
 we all, or nearly all, feel that it is w< 11 for both clergy and 
 
 le that it should be so. But seven or eighl hundred years 
 
 were in a very different condition from what they 
 
 are now-, and at that time the i pli almosl always sided with 
 
 : _v and the Church against the king and tin- State. Let 
 
 y and see why. 
 
 ;i with all the pride <>f the popes, ami sometimes of the 
 
 ■ ven though many of the lower clergy were very 
 
 different from what ti >uld have been, still on 
 
 The Church the whole the churchmen were more merciful, more 
 
 and the -^ an( j ] rss ,.,.,,,.[ t | 1;m t j 1(l laymen. We have 1 heard 
 
 D60D1G 
 
 much of lie- tyranny and barbarity of the barons 
 and Boldiers. The clergy, in their different ways, did what they 
 . and over-awe the tyrants, and to protect the 
 and poor. We saw that it was greatly through the 
 : the bishops that the pea e was made at last betwei a 
 i .Matilda. The popes, too, often used the authority 
 I i won, i ining the ui i 1 ambitious designs of 
 
 • and kin 
 Another way in which the Church was a safeguard and a 
 • . I of righting and plundering, was by what 
 was called the right oi ictuary. If a person were 
 ben led by his enemies, and in danger of being 
 
 •id killed, he might take shelter in a church or church- 
 yard and no one would dare to touch him. 
 kill any one in a church 1 an almost 
 nd unpardonable i-rime; and no doubt many a poor 
 
 way from the ruffians, who 
 sither pity nor fear in any other place. It had 
 
 of Stephen that 
 
 ■i ueithi h nor churchyard." 
 
 1". Agrfin, in • ! courts which Henry wished 
 
 a >t only tried offending pi but mat aged 
 
 - laira to a good many other people too. b'or 
 
 ii any one could wnte in those ignorant
 
 xix.] CHURCH AND STATE. 181 
 
 •lavs, he was at once looked on as a clergyman, clerk, or 
 learned person, and could be tried by these courts. This was 
 eat boon, because their punishments were not nearly so 
 severe as the punishments of the king's judges. They did not 
 put <iut people's eyes, nor cut off their hands and feet; they 
 never went beyond beating and imprisonment. Moreover, the 
 clergy were always known as the protectors of widows and 
 orphans. 
 
 Thus, to fully understand the case we must try to fancy our- 
 selves back in the very times, and think which side we might 
 have taken then. 
 
 11. Though there were no schools for poor people, and not 
 many for rich, and though the Church services were said in 
 Latin, yet the clergy took some pains to teach the 
 
 people. It is very difficult for us to imagine what 
 
 list have been to live in a time when there were no Bibles. 
 
 There is now hardly a baby of four or five years old in England 
 
 who could not tell us aboul Adam and Eve, Joseph, Moses, the 
 
 ad death of Christ, almosl as familiarly as about its own 
 
 hers and . In England, at least, nearly everybody 
 
 reads the Bible, and if is t i universally as almost to form 
 
 the groundwork of educal ion. 
 
 12. In tii- > neither Bibles nor schools for the 
 people; yet still they knew a good deal about the Scripture 
 
 es. And they learnt il principally in two ways; 
 not by sermons, should have expected, for it 1C ures- 
 
 time tin • very few sermons preached in 
 
 elm: r the people, but only in monasteries for the monks. 
 
 ' >ne '•' ly was, that all the church walls were covered with pictures; 
 
 if ihe Bible hi bul imeti 9 of the lives of 
 
 Almosl all i b< e old pictures ha-. e pet i be I in En 
 land, lli ches mding. But 
 
 the pictures have either faded away or been pla tered and white- 
 . r, Sometimes when an old church is being repaired, 
 and ire well scraped, faint shadows of fn co iippenr, 
 
 whieii.it' nol painted ery time, were painted only a 
 
 little lat< i . In Italy Ll en mad. I he e pictu 
 
 of coloured I ild, which will l.i i almost for i 
 
 en paint much more durable in i bat climate 
 
 than i' : in OU1 . < : churches wlio-e walls 
 
 and : of a greai picl are booh ; and from 
 
 them the i pie learnl omething aboul the creation of the world 
 
 and other Bible narratives j or, to peakmoi ctly, theyli
 
 182 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lkot. 
 
 at Least, how the painters thought the things they were painting 
 happen* d. 
 
 A very old writer and saint, who was defending the use of 
 
 pictures in churches, to which some \ pie in his days object) d, 
 
 jusl as many English ] pie do now, wrote thus : "I am too poor 
 
 to p 1 ka : ! have no leisure for reading; I enter the 
 
 church, choked with the cares of the world ; the glowing colours 
 ay sight and delight my eves like a flowery meadow, and 
 I \- of God steals imperceptibly into my soul ; I gaze on 
 the fortitude of the martyr, and the crown with which he 
 warded, and the fire of holy emulation kindles within me, 
 ana I fall down and worship God " 
 
 13. But the priests had another way of teaching the same 
 things, whi<h to us appears very strange indeed. They not 
 
 only had pictures painted, bul they acted the scenes. 
 The sacred j n QUr t | ilVS _ [f we g { \} lt , theatre we generally go 
 
 for amusement, or perhaps, now and then, for instruc- 
 tion j but in those times it was not meant for amusement at all, 
 but for religion. The play was a scene out of the Bible, or the 
 life of a saint ; the actors were clergymen, and the theatre was a 
 church. This was when the practice was first begun. On some 
 
 don or festival, when part of the prayers bad 1 n 
 
 . —in the nmrniii'4 before the Te IVuni. in the afternoon before 
 the Magnificat— the clergy and choristers would act a sacred 
 drama. After a time, most likely that more people might see it, 
 they would have a stage in the churchyard and act it there. They 
 form tie creation of the world, the tail of Adam and 
 1 . ' ni ami Abel, Noah building the ark, &c. \ and again, the 
 Bhepherda of Bethlehem, with the angel, the wise men from the 
 1 '. ' »n, &c. Every now and then, at appropriate 
 
 isitor would come forward to explain 
 wh.i ing represented, would preach a little sermon, or give 
 a little advic to the ] pie. 
 
 14. Th • deal of pains with these plays. "When 
 
 tion, in order to show the making of the birds 
 
 and illected as many strange animals as they could 
 
 live, and turned them Loose; or they would let fly a flock 
 
 ed in the best costumes they could manage; 
 
 jed for angels and for devils, Those who 
 
 had gilded \. i beards to look like a glory; 
 
 I had whi : the devil had a dress of 
 
 1 with hair and fe ithi rs, and ending at the hands 
 
 an I feet in claws
 
 six] CHURCH AND STATE. 1S3 
 
 1 5. After a time the rich tradesmen got up plays of the same 
 kind, which were acted in the streets; and they continued to he 
 very popular for ahout 500 years. The plays out of the Bible 
 history were called " Mysteries," and those from the lives of the 
 saints " Miracles." Though this was all done very seriously, and 
 some of it made as awful as they knew how, they had here and 
 there a little fun. There was one great joke about Noah's wife, 
 because she would not go into the ark ; and there was also a little 
 jesting among the shepherds in the field before the angel came to 
 sing. Fragments of these old plays are still rudely acted in old- 
 ioned places at Christmas time. We may be sure these per- 
 formances must have been a great excitement and delight to the 
 pe >ple in those days, when they had no books, and so little to 
 interest or amuse them, strange and shocking as we might think 
 tlipm now. 
 
 It was probably for all these reasons put together that 
 people in general sided with the Church in the great 
 rrel which, after Long smouldering, at last broke out into 
 l! imea. 
 
 16. Benry II. being determined to get the mastery of the 
 rch, took the opportunity of the Ajchbishop of Canterbury's 
 
 death to appoint to that high post a special friend 
 and favourite of his own, thinking that he would be ^"^j. 11 
 it help to him in carrying oul his plans. This 
 lurite was Thomas a Becket,a very famous name, well-known 
 -II. 
 
 17. Of course he was a clergyman, or he could nol have been 
 an irchbishopj but he was only a deacon, which is the low- 
 rank in holy orders, and he had as yet hardly _ 
 
 ■ . II 1 1 1 1 ' ' • i The courtier. 
 
 lived as a churchman at all. lie was tienrys chan- 
 cellor, his mo t confidential adviser, and intimate friend. A greal 
 many jtorips are told toshowwhal a fine gentleman he was j how 
 
 and splendid and magnificent. At one time he was senl a 
 ambassador to Prance, and he travelled in such ius style 
 
 that the b t mi hed French people exclaimed, " What manner of 
 he King of England be, since his chancellor travels in 
 this fashion I" In the proce ion which attended him, besides 
 knights, squires, grooms, and Binginx boys, there were hounds 
 and haw I if plate and other luxuries, and, 
 
 of all, twelve monkeys on horseback, from the time of Solomon 
 onwards thi i have been a Btrange liking for thi i 
 
 ires in the mid I ol ■ real pomp and splendour \ they 
 
 • perhup a kind of foil. I a the grand picl ure
 
 [84 LECTURES ON EXOUSII HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 1 1 
 
 f Alexander and the Persian princesses in the National ! 
 
 ; ; in ape in a very prominent position. 
 
 18. Another account gives us an odd idea of the habits of that 
 
 time. We are told that the house he lived in was so large and 
 
 hand ome thai it might rather be call< d a palace. In it he used 
 
 ceive numberless guests of all ranks, ami feast them in a 
 
 sumptuous way. with the choicest food ami richest wine, served 
 
 in gold and silver vessels, by attendants very finely dressed. 
 
 Sometimes there would he so many visitors that there was 
 
 room for them at table. So the chancellor gave orders that the 
 
 floor of th'' apartment should he strewed with fresh hay or straw 
 
 every 'lav. in order that the visitors who had to sit on the floor 
 
 t spoil their handsome clothes. We, who do not eat off 
 
 gold and silver, nor drink the richest wines everyday, should 
 
 Dsider it rather ignominious to have to sit on straw on the 
 
 , like horses in a stable ! But this spreading of clean straw, 
 
 <>r in the summer of fresh green rushes every day, was looked 
 
 on as another specimen of Becket's finery and magnificence. 
 
 L9. This was the man whom Henry chose to be Archbishop of 
 
 try, expecting that lie would assist him in all measures 
 
 ro for bringing the clergy under the law. But he was 
 
 bitterly disappointed. !N"o sooner was Becket made 
 
 ; . p, than he altered his whole way of life. He seems to 
 
 have been the sorl of character who could do nothing by halves. 
 
 ]| ae to the extreme in the character of a fine man of the 
 
 _ world, he would now go to the extreme in that of a 
 
 Tug snint 
 
 saint (according to the notions men had of a saint 
 
 in those day-). He sent off all his line servants, his cooks and 
 
 cup-1 : he left oil' all his gay clothing and dainty living ; 
 
 urrounded I with monks and beggars (whose feet he 
 
 ed every day); he clothed himself in dirty sackcloth, eat 
 
 food, and drank hitter water. 
 
 20 • people believe that he did all this for show and to 
 
 talked about and reverenced ; but, to do him justice, 
 
 it ought to be remembered that part, at least, of it, he kept 
 
 [1 " if not known till alter his death that he wore the 
 
 ad thai he was 3courged everyday. He no doubt 
 
 thouj sording to the Bpiril of the time, that he was pleasing 
 
 (Jod by using his body so ill ; and it was partly on arc, nut of 
 
 terity, and the extreme dirtiness of the sackcloth, that 
 
 he was first called a saint. ■ 
 
 21. Now it was that Henry found out his mistake. Instead 
 i bit part, the new archbishop at once began to oppose
 
 xix.] CnURCH AND STATE. 185 
 
 him. Henry's principal plans for bringing the clergy . 
 
 under the control of the State and the general law 
 
 of the land were put into* writing at a great council which he 
 
 held at Clarendon, and they were called the "Constitutions of 
 
 Clarendon." 
 
 Becket was persuaded to give his consent to them; but he did 
 it in such a grudging and unwilling way that every one thought 
 he was only trying to gain time, and was acting deceitfully. 
 Immediately afterwards he sent to ask forgiveness of the Pope 
 for lia\ i: nted at all. 
 
 22. In all the long disputes that went on between the king 
 and Becket, both perhaps thought they had the right on their 
 side ; to this very horn- people are divided about it. There is no 
 doubl thai Becket was very proud and obstinate, hut he believed 
 that he was fighting the haul.' of the Church and of God, and 
 there is something grand about his courage which one cannot help 
 admiring. 
 
 23. Al one time he had to flee from the country in disguise, 
 
 and remained a long while abroad. While he was there a fresh 
 
 erievan I. The kinjr, who had seen how 
 
 i I, liij Becket in 
 
 i misery and trouble were caused by a disputed exile 
 
 sticc ssion, resolved to do more than even his grand- 
 
 r had done, i I of making every one swear oaths to 
 
 obey his son after his own death, he determined to have him 
 crowned king during his Lifetime. The crowning of the Kingof 
 England had always b^en considered the e pecial righl of the 
 Archbishop of ( lanterbury, bul be being now out of the country, 
 the Archbishop oi Fork was called on to perform the ceremony 
 in his stead, to the greal indignation of Becket. Before this 
 time there had often been di icu -ions between York and < Janter 
 bury as to which should be the greatest, though, as Fuller says, 
 "we have I, pa I tlieni over in silence, not concei 
 
 Ives hound to trouble the reader every time those arch- 
 bishops troubled themselvi Nor was the dispute appea 
 even after Becket's death, for the two next archbishops had 
 
 ii i'l ah. .Mi, it, a1 h meeting of I he clergy, that I lieir 
 
 ; me to righting with fists, sticks, and tavi ; "while 
 
 the Archbishop of York, in struggling to get the place of honour 
 from • A' ■ bi bopof Canterbury, fairly ate down in his lap." 
 ■ how much of " poor human nature " was mi- I 
 in t ■ 
 
 24. W e are not to suppose i hat while Beckel I he 
 could do no mischief in England. He had a terrible power,
 
 186 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [ins. 
 
 which in those days the Church claimed, and which 
 
 The power i. ( ,j )t ( ] u , most 8 tout-hearted in awe This was the 
 
 ofex !i!!™ power of excommunication, or turning an offending 
 
 person out of tin- communion ot the bniiren. Ihere 
 
 two ports of excommunication, the greater and the less. 
 
 'I'll.' less even was a very serious punishment. It prevented 
 
 the excommunicated person from receiving any of tin' sacraments, 
 
 or from holding any office in the State; but the greater one, 
 
 which was only used in desperate eases, was far more horrible. 
 
 It is very easy for us to speak the word lightly, but we shall 
 
 hardly do that when we realize what it meant at the time. The 
 
 person who fell under the "anathema," or greater excommunica- 
 
 tion, was cursed in body and soul, at home and ahroad, going out 
 
 and coming in, in towns and sin ets, fields and meadows, by land 
 
 and water, sleeping and waking, standing, sitting, and lying down, 
 
 speaking and silent, day and night. The heavens were to be as 
 
 i him, and the earth as iron. God was prayed to afflict him 
 
 with hunger and thirst, with poverty and want, with cold and 
 
 h-v.r. with blindness and madness. All things belonging to him 
 
 were cursed, even the dog which guarded him and the cock which 
 
 waked him. No one was to take pity on him or to help him; 
 
 ! body was to be thrown to dogs and wolves, and his soul 
 
 to be eternally tormented. 
 
 25. However awful and horrible we should feel it to hear 
 : ; ke these uttered by any one, not to say by a minister of 
 
 I the merciful, we should know they would and could do 
 
 barm to any one but the cruel man who spoke them; but at 
 this time evi ryone believed that it would all come true, that the 
 curse would be fulfill 1 d. 
 
 Thus it gave :i terrible power to a proud priest like Becket. 
 
 While he was abroad he pronounced excommunication on several 
 
 I ' jervants, and every one thought the next thing 
 
 would he tint he would excommunicate the king himself. 
 
 Henry fell into "lie of his fearful rages when he heard of it; he 
 
 off hi- e]., the- and threw them about the room, he rolled on 
 
 tie- floor, and gnawed the straw and rushes with which it was 
 
 ■.ad. 
 
 26. After a time a sort of peace was patched up, and 
 ■ •t was allowed to return to England. He did not return in 
 
 a peaceful spirit, however, for lie was still greatly 
 
 Becket's ,.,,,..,,„ ,] H \ fc ne Archbishop of York for having 
 return •% 
 
 crowned the young Prince Henry; and he had got 
 from the Tope excommunicating him and two other
 
 xix.] CHURCH AND STATE. 1ST 
 
 bishops who had assisted at the ceremony. The people crowded 
 to meet Becket, giving him a joyful welcome, and blessing him 
 as coming in the name of the Lord ; but the bishops who had 
 been excommunicated went across the sea to the king, who was 
 now in France. We cannot feel surprised that Henry was 
 enraged. He was seized with another of his ungovernable fits 
 of fury, crying out about the cowards that he nourished at his 
 table, and saying, "Will no man deliver me from this man]" 
 ilv he repented those rash words afterwards, but he could 
 never call them back, never undo the deed they wrought. 
 
 27. Four of his fierce knights, hearing the words, and over- 
 i 2 t to fullil his will, hastened to Canterbury, where the arch- 
 already smarting under a series of insults. It is a 
 
 curious Bign i I how the old pride of the man of the world still 
 lived under the sackcloth of the saint, that one of these insults 
 which he felt most keenly, and even referred to in the last sermon 
 lie ever preached, was, that some of his enemies had cut oft' the 
 t tils of his li"i 
 
 28. When the knights arrived there was a stormy interview ; 
 the archbishop's friends and servants were alarmed, but his own 
 spirit only rose the higher. They implored him to take refuge in 
 the cathe Ir.d, but he would nol seem to go there for protection. 
 He w lit' 1 till tin' hour when it was bis duty to attend the even- 
 i . nor would he then go in h i »to, bul with all his usual 
 dignity. Neither would he permit the doors of the cathedral to 
 
 ed, Baying, with the nobler pride of a Christian prii fc, 
 '• the church should aot 1"- turned into a castle." The 
 knights rushed in, crying out through the dar] . " Where is 
 traitor 1 ?" Receiving no answer, they exclaimed, "Where is 
 hbishop?" 
 Beckel at once ''.hum forward in his white robes and con 
 fronted them, " I am no traitor, but the archbishop and 
 
 priesl of God." There was a hort struggle, and 
 after receiving many blows, Becket, commending His death. 
 i il to God, I'll dead ; murdered in his own 
 
 iedral, the sacred mol her church of England. 
 
 29. But by bis death be won the victory. It is impossible to 
 ribe the horror which this murder cau ed, nol only through- 
 
 ;land, bul through great part of Europe. The sacrilege 
 
 . the murder being committed in the church), the arch- 
 
 I 1 dignity, the finding of his hair ihirl bidden 
 
 mi ler hi i clothes, the admiration of the common people and the 
 
 monks, all together combined to it to the
 
 183 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 rani; of a martyred saint. When the king heard what had 
 happened he was appalled at the fruit of his own hasty words. 
 He shul himself up, robed himself in sackcloth and ashes, refused 
 food, and called God to witness that he was in no way guilty of 
 archbishop's death. He continued shut up for live weeks, 
 continually crying, Alas ! alas ! 
 
 30. The Pope, on his part, shut himself up in bitter grief and 
 r. There was great fear that he would excommunicate the 
 
 King of England. Henry's proud spirit was so broken that he 
 sent me - and made, a must humble submission to the 
 
 Pope, renouncing the " Constitutions of Clarendon," and yielding 
 up all the things about which he and Becket hail contested. 
 A tier this, and while he was in France, the Pope granted him 
 absolution. 
 
 31. But this submission and this absolution were not enough. 
 Great troubles were gathering around the king. His sons 
 rebelled against him; his wile took their part. Some of the 
 English barons revolted; they were indeed very angry at having 
 their castles taken away, and being kept in such strict order 
 by the king. The Scotch invaded the north of England. The 
 Earl of ! landers, with Prince Henry, was about to invade it on 
 the east. Everybody believed — Henry himself believed — that 
 all this trouble came as a punishment for Becket's murder, and 
 that he had not yet humbled himself enough. There had been 
 a terrible storm in the winter, and when the people heard the 
 rolling thunder they thought that it was the blood of St. Thomas 
 
 Lug to ( J-od for vengeance. 
 
 32. Henry came over to England, resolved to do what he could 
 
 : la- martyr, lie landed at Southampton, and is. 
 diately began to live on bread and water. He rode 
 ti 1 v- 4 ' '° ' ' '"' b* he could. When he ci 
 
 penance S '" M '- nt ' "' ' '''' L towers he dismounted from 
 
 his horse and went on foot. As soon as he leached 
 the city he cast off his usual dress and put on that of a peni 
 . a woollen shirt and a coarse cloak. He walktd barefoot 
 through the crowded sti nes with his 
 
 I, till he reached the cathedral j Then he knelt, prayed, 
 
 I, and wept by Becket' tomb. Hetool off the cloak and 
 c urged with a rod by all the bishops and abbots who were 
 present, and by each of the monks. After 
 
 all this he was declared to be fully pardoned; but 
 • th whole night ! and fasting within the 
 
 cathedral
 
 xix.] CHURCH AND STATE. 1S9 
 
 33. It is no wonder that a clay and night so terrible made him 
 
 ■ ill. When In- sjot back to London lie fell into a dangerous 
 r. Bat a very strange thing happened ; what we should 
 
 now call a li coincidence," bat what looked to people then like a 
 miracle. The penance had taken place on a Saturday. On the 
 next Thursday at midnight, as the kins? lay ill in his bed, aloud 
 knocking was heard at the gates. Lt was a messenger from the 
 th, who insisted on being taken to the king's chamber. He 
 brought news that the royal army had gained a great victory on 
 
 ■ very Saturday, and that the King of Scotland was taken 
 oner. Tie- astonished king sprang, overjoyed, from his lied, 
 
 and with a fall heart returned thanks to God and St. Thomas. 
 On the very same Saturday the fleet with which the Earl of 
 Flanders and young Hemy intended to invade the kingdom was 
 dii k. 
 
 34. Tin's ! hows what a real belief every one in those 
 bad in the power of the saints. It was still quite a- si rong 
 
 as when (,'nut strove to appease the martyred Kdmund and 
 
 Alpbege. Though Becket, we cannot doubt, was honesl and 
 
 ientious in what he aimed at and strove for, he was very 
 
 I adeed from our present idea of a saint ; but in the esteem of 
 
 time he was i ue of the very greatesl the world ever saw. 
 
 plendid shrine was made to contain his bones, and people 
 
 I from all parts to visit it. and pray to the martyr. And 
 
 : iJd that " glorious miracles " were wrought 
 
 i Miracles 
 
 at hi- bomb. Sick people were cured, the dumb 
 
 Spoke, the blind 5aW, even the dead Were raised lolile. < >ne 
 
 which, ifn .1 very "glorious," was al least very strange, 
 
 fully believed when the story was firsl told, and i another 
 
 uce of how ready people woe to give credit to wonderful 
 
 in thosi I ' certainly true that t be King ol France 
 
 came on a pilgrimage to Canterbury " to implore the patronage 
 
 of the blessed martyr;" tin wa the first time a king of France 
 
 • foot on l.n_di h ground. He gave very hand iome 
 
 offeri the holy place, and to tie- monks a valuable golden 
 
 cup, and 100 i in- of wine; bul while be was praying the 
 
 archbishop noti on his fingei a inagnificenl ring, with a 
 
 most splendid jewel in it. Th urchbi bop (very mode tly) 
 
 it this ring to the 'I Ik b ing, 
 
 however, no willing to pari with it, offered in 
 
 100,000 florins, with which the archbishop was fully 
 as he well might be. " l'.ut scarcely had the refusal been 
 ■ d, wle n , toni leaped from t be ring and I 1 n self
 
 190 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 to the shrine, as if a goldsmith had fixed it there." The miracle 
 ourse convinced the king, who left the jewel and the florins 
 as well ; and the gem was the grandest ornament of the shrine, 
 which was all blazing with gold, diamonds, sapphires, and 
 emeralds. We shall hear more about the Canterbury pilgrimages 
 in tin- future, as one of the most famous books in the English 
 language was written about them, 
 
 ."..">. Not only in England, but in foreign lands Becket's fame 
 spread far ami wide, as the hero and martyr of the Church, and 
 foreigners were as anxious for relics of the saint as Englishmen. 
 Parts of his arms, teeth, and brains were long treasured up in 
 Rome, Florence, Lisbon, and many other places. His fame 
 even reached the distant island of Iceland ; and in the thirteenth 
 tury his life was translated out of Latin into Icelandic, for 
 the benefit of the people of that wild country.
 
 xx .] THE SOXS OF HENRY. 191 
 
 LECTURE XX— THE SONS OF HENRY. 
 
 Henry's family troubles. His death. Richard Cceur-de-Lion. Chivalry. 
 Richard's absence from England. John Sans-terre. Prince Arthur. 
 Loss of Normandy. 
 
 1 . After the strange events of his day of penance Henry's spirit 
 revived ; hi.- felt that he was pardoned ; his health. returned ; and 
 he put. himself at the head of an army. The Eng- 
 lish people gathered round him, and tin; revolt of pr0 gpef g . 
 the barons was put down without a blow. The 
 truth was that the nation was really faithful, and attached to the 
 king' : Him nt. It was only some of the older nobility, who 
 
 lands in Normandy, and still felt like Normans, who rebelled. 
 | !; otherba oi b like Englishmen, nearly all the bishops, 
 
 and the great towns stood firm on the king's side now that he 
 was uo longer fighting in a matter which touched their religion. 
 Thus after bis pressing danger be rose stronger than ever. 
 
 2. Nor did he entirely give up his schemes for the control of 
 the Church and the clergy; \\<- >■ « 1 1 i ■• I out, m any of his principles 
 still, though the ■ ' itutions of Clarendon" had 1 u re- 
 nounced; and matters were left, as they so often were and are in 
 Ei imewhat undecided, each party having to give and 
 take in turn. 
 
 .".. But this great king's troubles were not over yet. All the 
 of li; lit".- were made miserable by the ingratitude and 
 rebellion of hi □ . Con idering what his marriage 
 had been, it is uot wonderful that his family life troubles. 
 
 uuhappy. I Ine ui rebelled after anot her ; 
 he i I hi m ag tin and ag tin ; but they broke hi i he irl at 
 
 lit. As all tfa ly in France, we cannot enter into the 
 
 tils. Henry, who was to have been King of England, 
 
 young, bef his father. Geoffrey, the third, who had 1 i 
 
 riedto the heire - of Britl iny,al odied. Richard, the second, 
 
 undutiful as his bn ei The worat and youngest, John, 
 
 rouritej Heury said be was the onlj one who
 
 192 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [ifcot. 
 
 bad never rebelled against him. When, at last, the forlorn and 
 
 ! king found that John too was a traitor, and had sided with 
 
 his enemies, it was his death-blow. He cared for 
 
 Hisdeath. no thing more in the world, and died. One of his 
 
 illegitimate children was alone faithful to him, and tended his 
 
 last hours. 
 
 4. The next king of England reigned for ten years. In all 
 
 that time he was only in England twice, and then but for a few 
 
 months. He could hardly be looked on as an Eng- 
 
 ll89 , lishman at all. Yet he is even to this day a popular 
 
 ai ' king. Every one likes the name of Richard the 
 
 Lion-hearted. When we come to look at his life and character 
 
 this seems strange. Be was a very fierce and quarrelsome man; 
 
 he ii id been an undutiful sen ; SO much so, that it was said ami 
 
 belief. -.1 that when lie went to meet his father's funeral the 
 
 bloo 1 Unwed from the dead body; showing, according to the old 
 
 superstition, that Richard was in some sense his murderer. As 
 
 to liis government of England, all he ever seemed to care about 
 
 was to wring out of the. nation all the money he could. And, 
 
 as lias been truly said, it may be all very well to have the heart 
 
 of a hem, but it would have been far better to have the heart of 
 
 a man. Yet we all know he is a popular hero and favourite to 
 
 tlos day. Why can this be? 
 
 5. The truth seems to lie, that though we cannot look on 
 Richard as a good, or great, or wise king, he was in many ways 
 tie- very model of a knight. In these days we do 
 ry. ]i(|] think very much of a knight. It is only a t'tle 
 of 1 1 . . honour. but we think still a good deal of the 
 
 Avoid "chivalrous." That is the French or Romance word for 
 "knightly." The. French word for knight was "chevalier," 
 which means one who rides on horseback. The German word 
 fnr knight means the same thing, a rider (reiter, ritter), and it 
 came to be a title of some honour, because those who could 
 afford to ride on horseback were the richer and more high-born 
 
 J" Mile. 
 
 I i:. dually other ideas grew up about the name ; and in the 
 
 da . : Richard L, and some time both before and after, the one 
 
 thing which was thought of and desired was to be a good knight. 
 
 Even a great king was nut satisfied with being wise, clever, 
 
 hon ■ dso a good knight -chivalrous. 
 
 we cannot a' all enter into the spirit of that age without 
 
 understand a little of what chivalry meant. 
 
 7. We will first look at its good side. AYe cannot fail
 
 xx.] THE SONS OF HENRY. 193 
 
 to have observed that the one great occupation of a gentleman's 
 life in those days was fighting, and we have had to notice over 
 and over again how fierce and savage some of the barons and 
 warriors were, for this constant fighting and killing men was 
 sure to harden their nature and to make them brutal. The very 
 heart of chivalry was a yearning to rise out of this savagery and 
 brutality. If we use the word " chivalrous " even to-day we 
 mean something courteous and delicately honourable, above the 
 common level of civility and honesty. A good knight was 
 bound to be that. He was hound to be gentle towards ladies, 
 to be generous towards even his enemies, to be full of courtesy 
 towards a fallen foe, and of reverence towards age and authority. 
 Perhaps the truest description of the "ideal" of chivalry is that 
 by Tennyson in the 'Idylls of the King,' which, though they 
 are about King Arthur, who lived ages before chivalry was 
 invented, give a perl'eet picture of what knighthood would have 
 been had Arthur, as Tennyson paints him, been living in the 
 middle ages. lie says he drew the knights around him 
 
 " In that fair order <>f my Table Round, 
 A glorious company, the flower of men, 
 'I o model for the mighty world, 
 
 And !"■ the fair l>< ginning of a time. 
 J made them lay tie ir bands in miue and swear 
 To reverence the king, as if he were 
 Their conscience, ana their conscience as their king. 
 'J o break the heathen, and uphold the Christ; 
 To ride abroad, redressing human wron 
 To speak no slandi r, no, nor listen to ii ; 
 To lead sweel lives, in pun si chastity ; 
 To lore one m tidi a only, cleave to her, 
 .And worship her by jti n • ol noble dei da 
 Until (lev won her j for indeed I know 
 
 Of no i - tub) le master under heaven 
 
 Than is the maiden p isi ion for a maid ; 
 Nol onlj down the base in man, 
 
 teai ii high thought, and amiable words, 
 And courtliness, and the di ire oi fam , 
 
 And l0V< "I Ii llth, and all that rie.ki a a man." 
 
 Of course this [a only a beautiful picture (and very far was the 
 lion hearted Richard from being like it), but ii give u an idea 
 of what, they aimed at ; and to have noble aims, even though we 
 cannot reach them, makes life noble. 
 
 8. The knight, then, be brave, gallant, pure, faithful, 
 
 loving, and courteous. A true knight also loved music, songs, 
 
 o
 
 194 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 and poetry j romantic songs, perhaps, in praise of his lady. If 
 he could make ami Bing them himself it was all the hetter. 
 
 9. But there were some drawbacks to all this. Sometimes we 
 find that the knight, in his high admiration of exalted virtue, 
 generosity, and magnanimity, undervalued and forgot the less 
 ornamental and more homely groundwork of steady honesty, 
 justice, and humanity. Again, in Tennyson's description, 
 among the beautiful things which were to be taught, "high 
 thought," "amiable words," &c, was one rather questionable 
 virtue — "love of fame." We must not stop to discuss the 
 in. lit s and demerits of this "last infirmity of noble minds;" 
 but, for good or for ill, it was a strong influence in the knightly 
 mind. The knight loved to be famous; to be seen, admired, 
 and sung about was his great reward for his brave deeds. 
 
 10. After the Norman Conquest one great change had been 
 introduced in the system of judgment. "We all remember the 
 trial by ordeal, which was the old way of appealing to God to 
 declare the truth. The Normans had introduced another 
 method, that of trial by battle. If two men disputed, if one 
 brought a charge against another, and it was impossible to tell 
 which spoke the truth, they would appeal to the wager of battle, 
 that is, the two would fight, and it was believed that God would 
 uphold the right, the innocent would conquer, and the guilty 
 would be overthrown. We often read of this too in poems and 
 tales ; indeed, the custom has barely died out yet, though it has 
 long been contrary to the laws of England. As the chivalrous 
 spirit grew, not only would people light for grave reasons and to 
 find "Ut the truth, but would also light for the pleasure and the 
 vanity of it. This was how the custom of tournaments began, 
 which were very terrible little battles really, but which were 
 considered by the knights as delightful opportunities for showing 
 off their courage and skill, their fine arms and fine horses. 
 Though both knights and horses were often killed and badly 
 wounded, grand ladies, beautifully dressed, would sit on raised 
 
 : " king on, one of whom would be chosen queen 
 of beauty, to give the prizes to the conquerors. 
 
 11. But the great blot and fault of all in the "ideal" of 
 chivalry was that it was limited to a class. The knight was not 
 
 ■ faithful and pitiful to all, but only to his own equals, and to 
 
 his own immediate dependants and servants. He had no idea that 
 
 •■ 1 anything of all that courtesy and generosity to those 
 
 who were below him, to the poor and humbly born. He was, we 
 
 may say, a gentleman when he was dealing with gentlemen and
 
 xx.] THE SONS OF HENRY. 195 
 
 •with ladies, but he was still as savage and cruel as ever when he 
 had to do with townspeople, tradespeople, and peasants. We 
 shall see more of this later on, because, though Richard I. was 
 before all things a knight, he was not such a perfect type of one 
 as a prince who lived 200 years afterwards, the Black Prince. 
 
 12. A great part of Richard's reign was taken up in fighting 
 the third Crusade. A short time before the death of Henry II. 
 the Saracens had conquered back Jerusalem from 
 the Christians, and another Crusade had been pro- (.^sader* 
 claimed to win it back again. People had tried 
 hard to persuade Henry to join it. He at first very prudently 
 Baid that lie thought it more his duty to stay at home and govern 
 and protect his own subjects than to go and fight the Saracens, 
 though afterwards he consented to go. However, those great 
 family troubles which embittered his last years prevented his 
 ever doing bo, and when he died, and Eiehard became king, his 
 first determination was to become a crusader. 
 
 1.",. It is possible that lie partly meant to atone for his undu- 
 tit'ul conduct towards his father, for which he felt some remorse; 
 and partly, too, that In: had a sort of romantic and religious 
 feeling about the Holy Land, But he loved war and lighting 
 evei ywhere ; ami do doubt one "f his main motives was his 
 longing to earn honour ami distincl ion. 
 
 1 I. II i began in a very dreadful way, by a horrible 
 
 ,,;,. of tin- -I".'. -. There was a strong feeling in the people 
 
 of that, time that it was a good and ivli^imis act to 
 
 per ecute the Jews. They looked on them as the 
 
 m who had killed Christ, and felt as if they were in some 
 sort avenging Him if they slew or tortured a Jew; so strangely 
 were religion ami crm Ity mixed up together, The very spirit of 
 t,i,,. ( ', i id( all -l' ferocity. The people were taught even 
 
 by bishops and aints that killing unbelievers was a holy and 
 praiseworthy act St. Bernard "The Christian who slays 
 
 the unbeliever in the Holy War i- sure of his reward. . . The 
 ( :in j i in the death of the pagan becau e I Ihri it is 
 
 There did not seem to people in thoi e 'lav much 
 difference I" tween a pagan, or a Turk, or a Jew. They thought 
 it, glorified Chri t, the Prince of Peace, to kill either "f them, 
 and pii- i or monks of ten bounded the mob on to de troy the 
 .[ We mu however, in ju tice to St. Bernard (who, 
 
 perhaps, like many other sainl , was better than his th I, 
 
 that he tried t" protect the Jews when the Chri tians in Ger- 
 many rose against them. II rid <; "d had puni hed the 
 
 O 2
 
 196 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Jews by their dispersion ; it was not for man to punish them by 
 murder. 
 
 15. Tin' kings on the whole protected the Jews, not at all out 
 of kindnessor Christian charity, but because they could get more 
 money out of them than out of anybody else. Being in general 
 better educated than other men, and spending their lives in 
 peaceful occupations, they gained and saved great wealth. In 
 particular, they were the best physicians and the best merchants 
 of the time, and "as rich as a Jew " was a true proverb even 
 then. It was they who lent the money (getting a good interest 
 for it) to build the grand castles and cathedrals about which Ave 
 have heard so much. They are said to have been the first people 
 in England who built stone houses for themselves, and set the 
 example of it to others. For before they came into the country 
 all the houses were built of wood, and towns and cities were 
 continually being burnt down. 
 
 16. The Jews had been made to contribute very handsomely 
 t<> the Crusade now about to start, no doubt much against their 
 will ; and the kings, whenever milder means failed, had recourse to 
 torture and imprisonment for extorting money from them. But 
 I eli Crusade there had been a massacre of the Jews, and 
 
 .ere was now. First in London, on the day of Richard's 
 coronation; then a still worse one faj York, when; the Jews were 
 besieged in the castle, and, knowing the horrors that would 
 befall them if they fell into the hands of their enemies, they 
 chose rather to kill themselves, their wives and children, and to 
 bum up all their treasures. 
 
 17. It dies nol appear that, Richard himself was guilty of 
 these in: ; lie even punished, though not half severely 
 enou lb of tli'- murderers. Having g-it all the money he 
 could collect together, Richard started on tin; Crusade, where he 
 was very brave, and gained greal fame, but was also so over- 
 
 ring and quarrelsome thai very little was achieved. Jerusalem 
 
 1 not be won back from the Saracens, and Richard was so 
 
 bitterly grieved at this disappoint ment, that when he 
 
 was led up a hill from which tin; Holy City could be 
 
 seen he refused to look at it, saying be was unworthy. But as 
 
 this is not part of the history of England we must not concern 
 
 - with his adventures in the Holy Land. Things went 
 
 on fairly quietly in England, and though the people were heavily 
 
 I, thej wrereperhaps none the worse off for their warlike king 
 
 and his followers being so far away. Prince John, to whom his 
 
 brother ha 1 shown much kindness, but who was treacherous by
 
 X x.] THE SONS OF HENRY. 107 
 
 nature, endeavoured to rebel, but was kept in some kind of restraint 
 by his mother,who helped to govern while Packard was absent. 
 
 18. As the king was returning borne from the Crusade be was 
 Beparated by a storm at sea from most of his followers, and at 
 
 length found himself attended by only one man 
 
 . , l i ' i • i • Richard a 
 
 and a boy as he was attempting to reacn Ins domin- pr i soner . 
 
 ions by land. In this strait be fell into the hands 
 
 of the Duke of Austria, who was one of the princes whom he 
 
 had affronted and quarrelled with during the Crusade, and who 
 
 soon mad'' him over as a captive to the Emperor of Germany. 
 
 T?or a time no one knew what had become (if him, and there is 
 
 a pretty story told of how his friend and minstrel, Blondel, 
 
 wandered about seeking his master, singing a favourite air which 
 
 t]i>- two had often sung together in happier days, for Richard 
 
 was a musician and a poet, as a good knight should be. At last, 
 
 after singing it in vain under many gloomy castle walls, he heard 
 
 it taken up by a voice he knew from within a fortress, and thus 
 
 In- found hi- master. 'Ibis tale, unfortunately, is not told by 
 
 any one living at the time, and therefore we cannot feel much 
 
 fidence in it- being true; hut it was certainly known ere 
 
 long to Richard's people that lie was a prisoner in the power of 
 
 tic Emperor of < iermany. 
 
 P.). Though Richard had 'lone so little for the English, except 
 
 take their money, still they were proud of him. His courage 
 
 made both him and his kingdom famous, and they were much 
 
 troubled at his captivity. Two people, however, were very glad 
 
 of it ; these were his own brother John, and his former dear friend 
 
 tie- King of France. John hail given out that his brother 
 
 was dead during the many months in which he had not been 
 
 heard of, and was very anxious to lie made king himself. 'I he 
 
 I och king, whom Richard had in alted in Palestine, ami who 
 
 bad I upon Normandy, was a) o desirous of keeping him 
 
 out of the way. E£e accused him of many crimes which he had 
 
 er committed; while John, on his part, offered to pay the 
 
 oiii] ■• !0,000 a i ith if he would keep his brother in 
 
 ],n mii. But i; -II in vain; Richard cleared 
 
 himself from the accusations of the King of France, H . ■ 
 and the emperor, after demanding aid receiving a re iease. 
 
 im al liberty. 
 
 I'n. .\it i his release Richard came to England for the Becond 
 
 time, where he was crowned again with greal ceremony, to wipe 
 
 out the stain of his imprisonment, and oon after lef I England 
 
 fur ever. II readily i"i ive John; indeed, he never showed
 
 198 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 a vindictive Bpirit, though he was so proud and fiery. The rest 
 of his life was principally spent, in wars with France. 
 
 21. His death Bhowed the same mingling of cruelty and 
 generosity which his life had done. Ee was besieging the castle 
 
 of one of his own vassals who had displeased him, 
 1199. when, almost in the hour of victory, he received a 
 death mortal wound from a soldier on the ramparts. After 
 
 the final assault, and when the castle was taken, the 
 king gave the savage order that every one of the men who had 
 defended it should he put to death, only excepting the archer 
 whose arrow had pierced him. This man was brought before 
 him, and spoke out boldly and fearlessly, telling Richard that his 
 father and his two brothers had been slain by him, and that 
 now, having taken his revenge, he was ready and willing to bear 
 any punishment the conqueror might inilict. Richard's brave 
 heart could admire the bravery of another, even of his enemy, 
 lie freely forgave the man, ordering his attendants to reward 
 him and Bend him away in safety. Thus, with his last thought 
 one of pity and pardon, died the Lion-hearted king. 
 
 22. Richard, leaving no children, was succeeded by his brother 
 John, who was already known as having rebelled against his 
 
 indulgent lather and betrayed his confiding brother. 
 
 He afterwards showed himself one of the worst men 
 
 and kings of whom any history speaks. All the good we can find 
 
 about him will go into a very few words. He is said by some 
 
 to have been clever and handsome, and to have had 
 
 His ;ood agreeable manners, though another account is that 
 
 "he was stupid, fat, and sour-looking." He was, 
 
 however, beyond doubt, a good general and soldier. And one of 
 
 the men who wrote at the time, after telling of his death and 
 
 wickedness, and trying to find a good word for him, says 
 
 that he founded a monastery at Beaulieu, and, when dying, gave 
 
 to the monastery of Cro on lands worth ten pounds. His evil 
 
 Is will take up more space. 
 
 23. ly had he become king, his character being already 
 bo unfavourably known, when he pul himself farther in the wrong 
 
 by a crime which roused everybody's hatred and 
 
 indignation, and marked him out clearly for the 
 deeds. ? . , ' . . ., . . J 
 
 cruel, wicked, pitiless wretcJb he was. 
 
 •_' 1. He was the only son of Henry 1 1, now living, and he was 
 
 .j ol England without any difficulty. Though the law 
 
 jion to the crown was not yet clearly settled as it is 
 
 now, yet the descent from the eldest son of a king had now
 
 xx ] THE SONS OF HENRY 199 
 
 begun to be thought more of than it used to be, especially on 
 the Continent. John's eldest brother had no children; but the 
 second, Geoffrey, had left a young son, Arthur. 
 Though he was still a child, it was thought on the rtllur - 
 Continent that, as Geoffrey was older than John, his son ought 
 now to be King of England, Duke of Normandy, and, in short, 
 the heir of his grandfather Henry II. So it certainly would be 
 now, but as yet these things were hardly settled. 
 
 25. At one time, indeed, during Richard's life there had been 
 a plan for making Arthur his heir; and now his mother, Con- 
 stance of Brittany, stirred up all the friends she could for him. 
 A Btrong party took up his cause, with the French king at their 
 head, and there was some disputing and fighting in France. At 
 last John, who could fight well and was a skilful general, gained 
 a victory, and made his young nephew prisoner. 
 
 26. The rest of that poor young prince's story, as it was either 
 
 known or guessed at, is told in Shakespeare's play of King John. 
 
 In that play arc Bome of the most pathetic words which even 
 
 Shakespeare ever wrote — the lament of his mother Constance 
 
 over her boy — 
 
 " Never, never 
 Shall I behold my pretty Arthur more." 
 
 She never did. Shakespeare tells how his keeper Hubert was 
 ordered to burn out the I'm' nee Arthur's eyes; and how his uncle 
 darkly hinted, though hardly daring to speak the words, that he 
 should [nit him to death. Such dreadful deeds are, of course 
 done in darkness, and no one ever quite knew the exact truth 
 about Arthur's death. The historian, a monk of St. Alban's 
 abbey, who lived at thia time, and wrote a very long and in- 
 tere ting account of this mo I interesting reign, says that John 
 sent him close pri oner to Rouen, "but Bhortly afterwards the 
 said Arthur suddenly disappeared." It a prince suddenly diaap- 
 r tred at such a time, aud in such circumstances, it opened a 
 door to grave suspicions ; and, accordingly, if. was 
 universally believed that John slew him with his 1203, 
 
 M band ; " for which me historian, the 
 
 monk Roger, "many turned their affections from the king, and 
 entertained the de pe t enmity against him." 
 
 27. This horrible crime (for if he did not murder the boy \\ ith 
 In own hand b perhaps be did, there is no rea onable 
 
 doubl that he did it by the hands of othi rs) wa the beginning 
 of John's mi fortunes. It nol only turned men's heart against 
 him, bul King Philip of Fra ized on it at a pretext for
 
 200 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 taking possession of Normandy and a great part of John's other 
 French dominions. It must be remembered that though, as 
 King of England, he was independent of France or any other 
 over-lord, yet he held Normandy and his other French provinces 
 as vassal of the King of France. 
 
 28. Philip accordingly summoned John to appear before him 
 and the great lords of France to answer for the crime of winch 
 he was accused. John would not come; upon which Philip 
 declared that he had forfeited his duchy, and marched into 
 Normandy with an army. If John had been a different man, if 
 his nobles, French and English, had loved or respected him, 
 things would have turned out very differently. If it had been 
 
 William the Conqueror, or Henry I., or Henry II., 
 1204 - they would never have let Normandy go, we may be 
 
 Normand BUr6, I5ut '* ()MI1 WM all ' ea(lv so n;lte(1 and despised 
 that Philip gained Normandy and most of his other 
 
 French possessions with hardly any trouble. 
 
 29. So, after being united for about 150 years, England and 
 Normandy were separated again. Of all the French possessions 
 of the Conqueror, there only remained to England the Channel 
 Islands, which had belonged to Normandy, where the poorer 
 people still talk an old-fashioned French, and are governed by 
 something like the old Norman laws and who still boast "that 
 they rather conquered England than England conquered them." 
 
 30. But though this was a great loss to King John, and he 
 acquired the ignominious surname of "»Sans-terre," or "Lackland," 
 it was in the end all the betteT for England. As long as the 
 King of England was also lord of a great part of France, he was 
 more a foreigner than an Englishman, and the Fmglish often 
 had to pay money and to fight in quarrels with which they had 
 nothing to do. Some of the great lords, it appears, still had 
 land- both in Normandy and England, as they had soon after 
 
 Conquest; but they now lost them and became entirely 
 I lieh, unless they chose to give np their English estates and 
 settle in France as Frenchmen. The provinces in the south of 
 
 nee, which hail belonged to Henry II. 's wife Eleanor, were 
 looked on now as a distant dependency (,f England, instead of 
 England being only a dependency or province of the great 
 French dominions of the king. From this time forward 
 
 land was England, with an English king, lords, and 
 people. 
 
 31. Just at this time, too, the English language broke silence 
 Q, The Anglo-Saxon ' Chronicle,' as we saw, came to an end
 
 xx] THE SONS OF HENRY. 201 
 
 in 1154, and for the next fifty years any one who had anything 
 to write wrote it in Latin. But now an English clergyman 
 wrote, or, rather, translated a hook into English. It 
 was a history of England ; much more amusing, I j jayamon# 
 am afraid, than this one is, hut not half so true. It 
 contained many strange and some beautiful stories, among others 
 that of King Lear and his daughters; and also curious and 
 romantic histories of King Arthur and his knights, and the 
 wizard .Merlin. These tales were so popular at that time that 
 the unfortunate young Prince of Brittany had been named after 
 King Arthur.
 
 202 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [legt. 
 
 LECTURE XXI.— MAGNA CIIARTA. 
 
 The dispute with the Pope. Stephen Langton. John becomes the Pope's 
 vassal. The archbishop and the barons demand the charter. The 
 changes it introduced. John breaks the charter. The French invasion. 
 Death of John. 
 
 1. We have seen that the loss of John's great provinces in 
 France might be looked on as a "blessing in disguise." His 
 wickedness also worked for good in another way. For a long 
 time past the great barons and nobles had been tyrants and 
 oppressors, and the king and the people had, more or less, made 
 common cause against, them. In this way the kings had grown 
 to be very strong and powerful, and, had it gone too far, would 
 have been likely to become despots themselves, whom nobody 
 could resist. It' the king had been tolerably good, he would 
 have gone on becoming more and more powerful, as he did in 
 France, and some other countries. But John was so intolerably 
 bad thai neither the nobles nor the people could put up with 
 him. So before the royal power bad become too firmly 
 established all his subjects ruse against him, and fixed once and 
 for ever the bulwark of English liberty. 
 
 2. Soon after losing Normandy John got into a great quarrel 
 
 with the Pope, who was now named Innocent III., and in the 
 
 first instance there is no doubt that he was in the 
 
 The quarrel right. The quarrel was about electing an archbishop 
 
 with the £ Canterbury. There were two candidates for the 
 
 office, one approved by the king, and the other not. 
 
 Both of them claimed to have been elected by the monks of 
 
 Canterbury. In this difficulty they both went off to Rome, that 
 
 the Pope might decide between them. But they were greatly 
 
 surprised when they got there to find that the Pope refused to 
 
 p of them made archbishop, and commanded the 
 
 to elect another man of his appointing. 
 
 •".. Now this was a quite unheard-of thing, for the Pope to 
 appoint an English archbishop, and when John heard it be was 
 naturally most indignant, and made a very spirited answer. He
 
 xxi.] MAGNA CHARTA. 203 
 
 declared he wondered at the Pope's audacity, and he would stand 
 up for the rights of his crown to the death, and " as there were 
 plenty of archbishops, bishops, and other prelates of the Church, 
 as well in England as in his other territories, who were well- 
 stored in all kinds of learning, if he wanted them, he would not 
 beg for justice or judgment from strangers out of his own 
 dominions," — words which, as Fuller says, well "deserved 
 memory, had they been as vigorously acted as valiantly spoken." 
 
 Here, again, we shall see good come out of evil. Though it is 
 quite certain the Pope had no right whatever to appoint the Arch- 
 bi&hop of Canterbury, yet he chose a very good man 
 for the post. His name was Stephen Langton, a L j^ p ^ 
 name which ought to be had in honour as long as 
 England lasts. However, for the time, King John forbade his 
 entering the country. 
 
 4. The I 'ope was not going to be baffled. He had a power for 
 punishing kingdoms which fell under his displeasure almost as 
 terrible as was the power of excommunication against 
 Individuals. This was what is called the interdict Th g^ ter . 
 (or "forbidding"). A pope's interdict meant that dict 
 all religious services were forbidden in the country. 
 The churches were .-hm ii].; no sacraments were performed, 
 except baptizing Infants and giving the Last office to the dying. 
 Man re only celebrated in the churchyard or in the 
 
 porch, instead of inside the church ; and the dead were buried in 
 roads and ditches, without any prayers or any clergyman's presence. 
 
 "See now," says Fuller, "on a sudden the Bad face of the 
 ; lish Church — a face withoul a tongue ; no singing of service, 
 no reading of prayers. None need pity the living . . . when 
 
 he. Looks on the dead, who were buried in ditches Like d , 
 
 withoul any prayers said upon them. True, u well informed 
 Christian knows full well that a corpse, though ca I in a bog, 
 shall not stick there at the day of judgmenl ; thrown into a 
 wood, .-hall then find the way oul ; buried by the highway side, 
 i- in the ready road to re direction; . . . yet, seeing thai thi le 
 
 ■.• . - 1 that a grave in consecrated ground was ag I 
 
 step to hea d were taught that prayers after death were 
 
 ntial to their salvation, it I ne< '1 1 pul i trange f< u i into 
 
 the heads and hearts, both of such which deceased, and their 
 friends which survived them." 
 
 .">. Tims we Bee what terrible misery this interdict would 
 
 It WOUld seem Very hud even to OS nOW were, all 
 
 churches and chapels shut up, where wc are u ed to go for
 
 204 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [Ibct. 
 
 prajer and praise, comfort and instruction ; but it was far harder 
 then, when people had no Bibles or other books at home, and 
 when they attached far more importance to Church rites and the 
 officiating priesl than we do. And "what equity was it that so 
 many thousands in England, who in this particular case might 
 better answer to the name of 'Innocent' than his Holiness 
 himself, should be involved in tins punishment?" 
 
 G. The people of England were thus in a very sad condition, 
 
 punished by the Pope for no oii'ence on their part, and tyrannized 
 
 over more and more by the cruel king. Roger, the 
 
 John ' s monk of St. Alban's (who is generally called Roger 
 
 tvrfi.ii 11 v • 
 
 of Wendover), tells us that there were at this time 
 
 in the kingdom of England many nobles whose wives and 
 daughters the king had shamefully insulted, "to the great 
 indignation of their husbands and fathers ; others whom he had, 
 by unjust exactions, reduced to the extreme of poverty; some 
 whose parents and relations he hail banished, converting their 
 inheritances to his own uses; thus the said king's enemies were 
 as numerous as his nobles." 
 
 7. He gives many examples of John's horrid cruelty. He was 
 offended at a certain archdeacon, named Geoffrey, for something 
 he had said ; so he had him seized, chained, and thrown into 
 
 on, where he was half-starved; and as if that were not 
 enough, "after he had heen there a few days, by command of the 
 said king, a cap of lead was nut on him, and at length, being 
 
 rcome by want of food, as well as by the weight of the leaden 
 cap. he departed to the Lord." 
 
 At one time, being afraid his nobles were going to rebel, 
 emanded hi of them ; that is, he required them to give 
 
 him their sons or nephews as pledgee of their faithfulness. 
 AinongBl others, John's messengers came to h certain nobleman 
 named William de Braose, to ask for his son to he delivered into 
 the care of the king. Hut " .Matilda, wife of the said William, 
 with the saucinesa of a woman, took the reply out of his mouth, 
 and said to the messengers in reply, ' I will not deliver up my 
 bod to your lord, King John, because he basely murdered his 
 D6| hew Arthur, whom he ought to have taken care of honour- 
 ably." We may imagine how enraged the king was when he 
 
 :d this speech ; lp- immediately sent, knights and soldiers to 
 
 iui the whole family. Though they escaped for that time, 
 
 in of the poor lady afterwards with her son, and, 
 
 t" punish her for her "saucy" epeech, starved them both to 
 
 h !
 
 xxi.] MAGNA CHARTA. 20.5 
 
 9. This is how lie treated clergymen and women. We will 
 now read one specimen of how he dealt with the Jews, and then 
 we will leave this miserable part of the subject. "All the Jews 
 throughout England, of both sexes, were seized, imprisoned, and 
 tortuivd severely, in order to do the king's will with their money. 
 . . . Some of them gave up all they had, and promised more, 
 that they might thus escape. One of them, at Bristol, even after 
 beiog dreadfully tortured, refused to ransom himself; on which 
 the king ordered his agents to knock out one of his cheek-teeth 
 daily, until he paid 10,000 marks of silver. After they had for 
 seven days knocked out a tooth each day, with great agony to the 
 Jew, and had begun the same operation on the eighth day, the 
 said Jew, reluctant as he was to provide the money required, gave 
 the said sum to save his eighth tooth, though he had already lost 
 Beven." 
 
 10. But we ar«' now coming to his great disgrace and humilia- 
 tion. He had uo1 taken much notice of the interdict, and still 
 
 to allow Stephen Langton to enter the kingdom. So 
 now the Pope, who had just excommunicated the Emperor of 
 Germany, and, as Fuller says, "had his hand in," proceeded to 
 mmunicate John by name. John even now took no notice, 
 but wenl on as before. And he led armies into Wales and 
 Ireland, and was very successful in his fights, for he was, as we 
 know, a good Boldier. But meanwhile he made bis own nobles 
 and people bate him worse and worse, and especially the clergy 
 and the ' Ihurch, for he tried to punish them in every way for the 
 P< ipe's offeni 
 
 1 1. Pope Innocent, having tried the interdict and the excom- 
 munication in vain, now wenl a -t< p farther, and deposed King 
 John — declared that he should no longer be King 
 
 ol England, but that the Pope would choose another 1213, 
 in bis stead. Tins was what things had come to by deposes him 
 thi.^ time. It was enough to make William the 
 Conqueror torn in 1 thai the Pope should be taking upon 
 
 him to put down kings and sel up kings in England. But John 
 htened now, and cowed. And well he might be, for 
 tin-, nobles, "well pleased thai they were absolved from their 
 allegiance to John," began to make friends with his enemy the 
 King ol France; and he made preparations to invade England, 
 and Beize "ii th had already done "n Normandy, 
 
 12. There would have been no fear that the King of France 
 could have conquered England, if the English had Loved their 
 king. For England was very strong now, had a great tleet, and
 
 206 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot 
 
 tine soldiers. " Had they been of one heart, and of one dispos- 
 ition inwards their king," says Roger, " there was not a prince 
 under heaven against win mi they could not have defended the 
 kingdom of England." lint they were not all of one mind 
 1. .wards their king, or, rather, that one mind was of hatred and 
 detestation of him. John knew this very well, and was fright- 
 ened. Another thing which frightened him was that a hermit, 
 named Peter, had foretold not long ago that by next Ascension 
 Day John would no longer be a king, but the crown of England 
 would be transferred to another. John had heard of this 
 prophecy, and had pui IMer in prison for it ; but he was at heart 
 greatly alarmed. And the prophecy was spread abroad every- 
 where, and everybody believed it. 
 
 13. Accordingly, in this great strait all John's boldness melted 
 
 away. Instead of promising his lords and his people that he 
 
 would reform and govern them justly and mercifully, 
 
 H . is . and rallying them round him to defend their country, 
 
 su mission. ^ e humbled himself to ask mercy of the Pope, and 
 
 to beg for his pardon and help. He not only submitted to him 
 
 about the appointing of the archbishop, and gave free leave for 
 
 Stephen Langton to come to Canterbury, but he humbled himself 
 
 far lower than that. He made over the whole free kingdom of 
 
 England to the Pope of Rome, and did homage to 
 
 He does him as his vassal. England, that had always been 
 
 homage for f,,.^ all ,i neV er had any over-lord higher than her 
 
 own king, was now to be under the Italian bishop, 
 
 and her king to be his man ! 
 
 1 t. They even say that John took off his royal crown and 
 
 laid it at the feel of the Pope's legate. Roger of Wendover 
 
 that this disgrace and shame happened on Ascension Day. 
 
 But when that day passed, and John was still alive and well, 
 
 poor prophet was brought out of prison, tied to a horse's 
 
 tail, dragged through the . and afterwards hung. His 
 
 . who had don.' nothing at all that we know of, Was hung 
 
 Bui people whispered among themselves that Peter ought 
 
 been hnu for bis prophecy had come true indeed. 
 
 15. So now, as Innocent bad fully triumphed, John was 
 
 solemnly absolved, and the Pope forbade the French king to 
 
 invade England after all. The French king was much enraged 
 
 at this, for be had made great preparations, and was all ready 
 
 with his army to come and conquer England. However, having 
 
 ther enemy ready to his band in Flanders, he turned against 
 
 him for the time, and England was left alone.
 
 xxi.] MAGNA CHARTA. 207 
 
 16. But though the Pope was now satisfied, and took John's 
 part, we are not to imagine that the English lords were so easily 
 pacified; and now they had got a splendid leader 
 
 and adviser on their side. This was the very arch- ^^fshop 
 bishop whom the Pope had forced upon England. Stephen. 
 Innocent must have heen greatly surprised at the 
 turn affairs took. He, as we saw, had been quite content with 
 John's submission and obedience, and with a promise John had 
 mule to restore the money of the Church. We do not hear one 
 word said of his admonishing John to rule his subjects better, 
 .to leave oh injustice and cruelty, and to protect the poor, the 
 orphan, or the stranger. No, not a word of all this ; only the 
 rights or wrongs <>f the Church, and plenty of money. 
 
 17. When Stephen Laugton came to England, on the other 
 hand, one of the very iirst things he did was to think of the 
 
 ile. Before John could get absolution from him, he was 
 
 made to promise that "he would renew all the good laws of his 
 
 ancestors, especially these of King Edward; would annul bad 
 
 ones, would judge his subjects justly, and would restore his 
 
 !i and all." 
 
 18. John promised ; butof course he did not mean to keep his 
 promise. On the contrary, he immediately collected a greatarmy 
 to tighl a an I his refractory barons. The archbishop boldly told 
 
 him that, he had DO right to make, war, and almost compelled him 
 
 '.^u]) his purpose. Directly after this a great council was 
 held at St. Pauls in London, consisting of the bishops, barons, 
 and others, and the archbishop at, its head. The principal public 
 bu inese transacted was, that tie' archbishop gave leave to the 
 clergymen who had had no Church services for so long to begin 
 
 d to open their churches, and to sing the services, "though 
 
 in a low v.. But privately lie railed some of the 
 
 nobles to him, and said. " Did you hear how, when 1 ^ e P 5°° JJ d 
 
 l the king at, Winche ter, I made him swear 
 thai be would do away with unjust laws, and would recall good 
 laws, Lch as those of King Edward (" Then be wenl on to tell 
 tie-in that be bad round a nao t precious thing the very charter 
 of liberty, which we beard of o long ago, which was given by 
 Henry L (see p. 163), but which seemed to have been losl and 
 
 :. ; and by help of thai be said they might win back theii 
 long I" I freedom. 
 
 19. In tin il Bght between tyranny and liberty it is imporl 
 ant. to ii me thing. It, i . thai Stephen Langton and the 
 
 not fighting for anything new or trying to do away
 
 •2 « LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 with anything old. England had always been a free country. 
 Our forefathers, from the very oldest days we ever hear of them, 
 when they were still living in Germany and Denmark, were noted 
 for their love of liberty, and their kings had never been allowed 
 to be tyrants. Tiny had had their councils of wise men, and 
 their great assemblies, where every freeman had a voice. Some 
 of all this had goc buried over and forgotten in the course of ages; 
 but now Englishmen, under this intolerable tyrant, began to 
 "remember from whence they had fallen," and to resolve they 
 would bring their old rights to lite again. They would have 
 bark the good old laws of Henry I. and Edward the Con- 
 fessor. Those good old laws were founded on the older laws of 
 Cnut, of Edgar the Peaceable, of Alfred. It shows, too, how the 
 nobles by this time had become completely English, and must 
 have half forgotten that they had had French great-grandfathers, 
 that they wanted the laws of Edward the Confessor, who was the 
 last king of the old English royal family. 
 
 20. Archbishop Stephen then showed the barons the charter of 
 Henry I., and caused it to be read aloud to them. When the barons 
 
 heard it they wen; delighted ; they all swore that 
 They resolve fa e y would stand up lor their rights, and, if necessary, 
 they fr wl11 be would die for them; the archbishop faithfully promis- 
 ing them his help and support. This was the begin- 
 ning of the great struggle which ended in Magna Charts, the 
 great charter of which every Englishman is so proud, and on 
 which all our liberties are built. 
 
 21. The- vear after the assemblyat St. Paul's the barons assem- 
 bled again , this time it was at the shrine of St. Edmund, the 
 English saint, whom the Danes had killed. In his church they 
 swore on the great altar that if the king refused them these 
 liberties and laws they would withdraw from their allegiance, 
 and make war on him. 
 
 22. When Christinas came', and John was in London, the 
 
 aine up to him " in gay, military array,'' and reminding 
 him of what, he had promised when he was absolved, demanded 
 that he would now confirm those promises. The' king was greatly 
 
 itened, hut got Leave to wait till Easter, probably hoping that 
 he might find some way out of it by that time. Hut when Easter 
 arrived things bob 1 rather woi e for the king than better ; the 
 
 us had madi I the interval in inducing almost all the 
 
 nobility of the whole nation to join them ; and now they assem- 
 bled in a very Large army, with knights, horse-soldiers, and foot- 
 soldiers, all well equipped. Besides the nobles, there were also
 
 xxi.] MAGNA CHARTA. 209 
 
 on the same side the citizens of London, with their Lord Mayor 
 at their head. 
 
 The king had hardly anybody left on his side ; he could 
 barely muster seven knights. So what was he to do 1 ? He did 
 just what that sort of man was likely to do — he "concealed his 
 secret hatred under a calm countenance, and deceitfully promised" 
 to do as they wished. 
 
 23. The bar. ms appointed to meet the king in the meadow of 
 Runnymede, near Windsor — the most famous meadow in all 
 England. There John signed the Great Charter — 
 
 the very charter which, torn, shrivelled, and yellow Gr'at 
 
 with age, we may still see in the British Museum, charter. 
 And when we do so, ought we not to give a grateful 
 thought to Stephen Langton and the brave men who won it for 
 UE I 
 
 24. Before we consider what the charter was about, we will 
 see how John behaved when be had signed it. Roger of Wen- 
 dover tells us that he signed it without making any objection, and 
 every one "exulted in the belief that God had compassionately 
 touched the king's heart; had taken away his heart of stone, and 
 given him one of flesh ;" and they hoped that " he was happily 
 inclined to all gentleness and peace. Bu1 Ear otherwise was it — 
 oh shame: oh sorrow ! — and far differently from what was expected 
 did events happen." The same old historian tells US that some ot 
 
 the few people aboul the king "said gruntingly, and with much 
 laughter and derision, ' that he was no longer a king, but a slave. 
 and the -cum of the people.'" Upon which he fell into a rage, 
 something ttke his father, gnashed his teeth, Bcowled with bis 
 ticks and limbs of trees, began to gnaw them 
 with his teeth. After which be immediately began to take mea- 
 sures for breaking all bis promise , 
 
 25. When we read what those promises were we see something 
 of the state of things from which the Great Charter rescued Eng- 
 
 1. The kings in those times bad powers which 
 were aol only very oppressive, but very vexatious, l p 0M J"f 8 
 1 iuld interfere in everything, and were 
 
 i iking bri I Thus our man bad to pay 
 
 twenty marks for leave to sail fishes; others had to pay loo 
 shillings for leave to buy and jell dyed cloth. If a man wi I 
 the king to do him justice, to pay him a debt, for instance, 
 lie woidd have to offer a present; sometimes it would be a 
 
 share of the money, bul Bometimes it would be things we b1 M 
 
 i king would be too proud ' pt . it might be 
 
 p
 
 210 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 two or three horses, or hawks ; two handsome green dresses, or 
 three Flemish caps; 200 hens, or 300 fishes. 
 
 26. The king's authority was as heavy on the great lords as on 
 
 the common people. For example, if a baron died the king took 
 
 possession of his estates, and would not let the sun 
 
 Widows and an( j j 1( ,j r succee d hjg father without paying a large 
 
 orp ans. ^^ ^ money; and this was not a sum fixed by law, 
 but the king claimed just what he liked. If the son and heir was 
 still a child, then the king kept all the profits to himself till the 
 boy came of age, and only gave out just as much as he thought 
 fit for bringing him up. As to the widow, she often had a great 
 deal of trouble to get her proper do wry ; and if the king chose, 
 he could make her marry again, whether she would or no ; and 
 many whoever he liked, not whoever she liked. A good and 
 just king might have acted so as not to make all this intolerable; 
 he might have done his duty by the fatherless and the widow ; 
 bul when there came to be a wicked king like John he was sure 
 to abuse the power. So in Magna Charta he was made to give 
 up all these rights. 
 
 'l~i . Again, if people had done anything wrong they were very 
 
 often punished by fines; that was no doubt preferable to having 
 
 their hands or feet cut off; but the grievance was 
 
 Fines. t ] |;l j. ^ ne jj nes were no j. nxec i sums • the king could 
 
 indjusl what he liked; and lie did, of course, when he wanted 
 v. demand very large sums for very small offences. Some- 
 times people must have been utterly ruined ; they were made to 
 give up all they had. A poor countryman might have to give up 
 his very carts and forming-stock with which he earned his living. 
 In Magna Charta John had to promise that a man should only 
 be fined according to his offence, and also according to his pro- 
 ud that he should never have his means of living taken 
 away from him. And he had to give up the power of fixing on 
 what sum it would he fair to demand, and leave it to be decided 
 by lawful and tried men, the man's own neighbours and equals 
 
 tething like our trial by jury). 
 
 28. Not only could the king levy fines, he could also lay on 
 retty much as he pleased, whether the country liked it or 
 
 not. Now he had to promise he would not do that 
 axe8, without the consent of his council. The council 
 was much the sane' as the old witan, and something like our 
 parliament, but not exactly, as we shall see farther on. 
 
 29. Another great hardship was, that when the king travelled
 
 xxi.] MAGNA CHART A. 211 
 
 about his servants and officers used to seize on people's horses 
 and carts to carry his goods without paying for Pu anoe 
 them; and they would also take corn and other 
 things, if they wanted them, in the same way. "We saw how 
 badly Henry I.'s servants used to treat the people in this respect, 
 until he put a stop to it. Now John had to promise he would 
 not allow his people to do this any more, or to take anything 
 without paying for it. (At that time the hire of a cart with two 
 horses was tenpence a day, and one with three horses was 
 fourteen pence.) 
 
 ' ' 30. Many other evil things were abolished and good things 
 promised in Magna Charta. There were some curious additions 
 made to it afterwards about the woods and forests, Forests 
 which show how tyrannical the forest laws must 
 have been before. If a man's pigs wandered into the king's 
 i ,,•,■-' for one night it was not to be made a pretext for depriving 
 him of his property. Xo one was to be killed for hunting the 
 king's deer, but to pay a fine, or go to prison for a year and a 
 And a man might keep all the honey found in Ins own 
 woods. 
 
 31. But the mosl important point in the whole charter was 
 thai no freeman should be imprisoned or punished in any 
 
 way except by lawful judgmentof his peers or equals; 
 
 by the arbitrary will of the king or of anybody iJjjjjJJJ^. 
 . but by the law of the land. And the king had meut 
 to promise too, "To none will we sell, to none will 
 we delay or deny justice." We may well imagine the misery 
 and indignation it would cause when justice was sold ; when the 
 , man whocould bribe the judge or the king got his own way, 
 right or wrong, and the poor man who had nothing to give was 
 not listened to. All our best kings, as we have seen, bad tried 
 to p il .i »top to th The worth of the < lharter is thai il com 
 pelled a bad king to '1" the Bamc, jo thai the country was no 
 longer to be at the mercy of chance, to depend on whether 
 there happened to be a j 1 or a bad man on the throne,- as it 
 
 hen a monarchy i ab olute. 
 
 32. All the same powers, or almost all, which the king had 
 over his barons, the barons had over their vassals, and they could 
 oppress t hem much or even i than the 
 
 ii TllC It'll 'HIS 
 
 king could oppress themselv* the under ll]ul th( . ir 
 
 vassals had le power to Many of the vassals. 
 
 poorer tenants, Instead of paying rent, had to do work 
 
 r I
 
 21-2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 for their lords ; for instance, to take their horses and waggons 
 and reap his corn and carry it home, when their own wanted 
 reaping and tarrying. He could tax them and fine them much 
 as he liked, and he also had courts of justice (or injustice) of his 
 own. It shows that in framing the charter these lords, with 
 Sir). hen Langton at their head, were not thinking only of 
 themselves, or their own class, but eared for the good of all the 
 people in the land, that they all promised to do for their own 
 vassals just tin; same as they made the king promise to do for 
 them. 
 
 33. Everybody knew that John was not to he trusted to keep 
 
 his word, and that he was sure to break all these promises 
 
 directly he could. So twenty-five lords were ap- 
 
 Tlie fi pointed tti look after him. and compel him to keep 
 
 lords. V '''fin if possible; one of these twenty-five was the 
 
 Lord Mayor of L Ion. After the king had signed 
 
 the ( lharter he was made to sign an agreement about these lords, 
 
 which, it must 1 wned, reads very oddly. For he has to say 
 
 that if he breaks any of tin- artirlcs or does any wrong to any- 
 body, "those barons, with the whole community of the country, 
 shall annoy and harass us by all the means in their power, such 
 king our castles, lands, and possessions, and any other means, 
 till we give them satisfaction. And the better to harass us, the 
 four castellans of Northampton, Kenilworth, Nottingham, and 
 Scarborough shall swear t" the twenty-live barons that they will 
 do with the said castles whatever they may command or enjoin 
 them to do," &c. We can hardly wonder at John gnawing the 
 Sticks alter having to sign this. 
 
 3-t. The charter was now published all over the kingdom ; it 
 
 read in the churches for everybody to hear, that they might 
 
 all know what the king had promised, and help to 
 
 Johns "annoy and harass" him it he broke his word. The 
 
 revenge, king, after his outburst of fury, and passing a sleep- 
 
 uight, wiit off to the Isle of Wight "in great 
 
 agony of mind, devising plans to be revenged on the barons." 
 
 Tin- first plan he devised was to -end off to his master, the Pope, 
 
 el him to take his part against his people. The next was, 
 
 wishing, as ] ieek revenge on his enemies with 
 
 two . the 3pirii lal and temporal," to hire foreign soldiers 
 
 from abroad to come and light fur him. Both these plans seemed 
 
 35. 'I In- Pope, who, as Ave saw, only cared for his own power, 
 ami not at all for the good of the people, took upon him
 
 xx..] MAGNA CIIARTA. 213 
 
 to "annul and quash" the Charter, and forbid any- 
 body to pay attention to it. But the English nobles The Po P e 
 i j -L 1.1. i ) 4.1, annuls the 
 were not going to be cowed by the rope ; they charter. 
 
 went on ••harassing" the king more severely than 
 ever. After this the Pope said the barons were worse than 
 the very Saracens, and excommunicated them. He also punished 
 his own archbishop, Stephen Langton, by suspending him. By 
 and bye he excommunicated tin' barons over again, and laid the 
 city of London under an interdict. Even this did not frighten 
 the barons. The Pope had stretched his power too far. People 
 began to get used to his threatenings and to defy them. For 
 when these sentences were made known, " the city of London 
 treated them with contempt, inasmuch as the barons determined 
 not to observe them ; " and even the priests would not publish 
 them. Men began to think, and to say too, that the manage- 
 ment <>f lay or temporal affairs did not pertain to the Pope, but 
 only tin; control and management of Church matters; "they 
 tli> paid no regard at all to the sentence of interdict or 
 
 excommunication, but held worship throughout the whole city, 
 ringing bells and chanting with loud voices." 
 
 We -''in tosee that England will be a Protestant country by 
 ami bye, now it had come t<> this. 
 
 36. Meanwhile, John's other plan of bringing in the foreign 
 soldiers was working too. And that, also, we may say, worked 
 a little too well. For wbile tie' king by their help 
 
 med to get tie' better of the barons, and took ^ierT 
 ■ ii of Beveral strong castles, these hired 
 ildiers were so utterly and outrageously wicked that they only 
 strengthened tie il hatred against John. They went 
 
 i waging about tie country, till we could almost fancy we had 
 
 • bach to the awful times of Stephen and Matilda. " The whole 
 surface of the earth," writ< Roger, " was covered with these Limbs 
 of the devil, like Locusts, who assembled from remote regions to 
 blot '"it everything from the face of the earth lone man down to 
 a; for, running about with drawn Bwords ami "pen knives, 
 they ransacked towns, houses, cemeterie ,and churches; robbing 
 every one, and iparing neither women nor children. Even the 
 banding at the very altars with the cros of the 
 Lord in tle-ir hand , clad in their Bacred robei . wi re sized, 
 tortured, robbed, and ill-treated j and there wa uo pontiff, pi 
 or Levite to pour "il or wine on their wound ." There 
 great deal more about the wii !| which is 
 
 aim i king to qui
 
 214 LECTURES ON ENGLISLT HISTORY. [trcT. 
 
 37. "What was to be done with a kin.? like this? so faithless 
 and so cruel — such an enemy to his own kingdom. The barons 
 
 The barons consulted together, and did a thing which seems 
 
 invite the very unworthy of them. They determined to get 
 
 French rid of John altogether (in that, no doubt, they were 
 
 Prince. ^^ right) ; but they determined also to offer the 
 
 crown of England to the son of the King of France. Naturally 
 
 the French kin? and his son were only too pleased. They had 
 
 already gained John's French dominions, but England would 
 
 be far better still. Louis, the French king's eldest son, had 
 
 married John's niece, which was supposed to give him some sort 
 
 of claim to the throne, and he now came over to England with 
 
 a great company of earls, barons, and knights, all eager to get a 
 
 .share of the rich and beautiful islam! ; and, doubtless, hoping to 
 
 settle down as the Normans had done 150 years before. But 
 
 this was not to be; England was never going to be conquered or 
 
 joined to France again. The English lords began to repent of 
 
 their, rash act when they found out how the Frenchmen behaved. 
 
 They soon began plundering and pillaging, and bringing their 
 
 rich booty to London ; and the Prince Louis, passing over the 
 
 English L»rds who were on his side, gave lands and castles to his 
 
 Frenchmen. It was even said that as soon as he had subdued 
 
 England and been crowned king he would banish the English 
 
 barons from the country. The barons were therefore in great 
 
 perplexity, when a most fortunate event occurred, namely, the 
 
 h of John. 
 
 38. He was marching along the coast from Norfolk into 
 Lincolnshire, at a place where two small rivers run into the sea. 
 
 At low water this part of the sea is nearly dry ; but 
 
 n th f * m " 'li^i'-ulty is, after crossing the mouth of one river, 
 
 John. to ^"' '" thue to cross the other before the tide rises. 
 
 In trying to pass this dangerous place an immense 
 
 part of John's baggage and treasure was lost: men, horses, carts, 
 
 ami costly things of all sort-, including his royal crown. For in 
 
 those days it was tie- custom when erreat people travelled about 
 
 1m lake all their goods with them. The loss of all these valuables 
 
 so preyed upon John's mind that lie tell into a fever. Nobody 
 
 knew whether it was from poison or from eating too many 
 
 peaches and drinking new cider when he was already ill; but 
 
 from one cause or other he died in that abbey of Croxton, to 
 
 which he gave the land worth £10. 
 
 • Perhaps ic i "ic ever quitted the world whose death was 
 such a blessing. John left a young son of about nine years old.
 
 xxi.l MAGNA CHART A. 215 
 
 Till this time there had never been a king of England who was a 
 child ; a king's young sons, as we have often seen, had been passed 
 over, and a grown man, perhaps the last king's brother, had been 
 made king. This is the best excuse we can make for the barons' 
 invitation to the French prince ; it perhaps never occurred to 
 them to make the little boy king ; and there was no one else 
 left of the royal family. John was the last son of Henry II., 
 and none of the others had left any descendants, except the 
 poor Arthur, who had been killed. Happily John died before it 
 was too late. Louis had already made the English nobles hate 
 him. and accordingly they thought it better to have a child for 
 their king than the Frenchman.
 
 21G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY, [lbct. 
 
 LECTURE XXII.— HENRY III. RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 
 
 Gothic architecture and Westminster Abbey. Extortions of the Pope. 
 The Grey Friars and the Black Friars. The universities. Roger 
 Bacon. 
 
 1. Henry III. was solemnly crowned at Gloucester by the 
 
 Bishop of Winchester. Stephen Langton had been suspended 
 
 by the Pope, and was out of the country ; it Avas 
 
 1216. not til i a r ter p p e i unoC ent died that he was allowed 
 
 Henry III. tQ roturn . Dut when he came back he, as Archbishop 
 
 of Canterbury, crowned the young king over again, and took a 
 
 great share in the government. 
 
 2. At the coronation Henry swore, as the kings usually did, 
 
 that he would honour the Church, show strict justice to the 
 
 people, abolish bad laws, and make good ones. Though he had 
 
 as yet no power to keep or break these promises, being but nine 
 
 years old, he had a very good guardian, William Marischal, Earl 
 
 of Pembroke, who did all that could be done for the good of the 
 
 nation. • >f course one of the first things was to drive away the 
 
 French. This was done without much trouble. Almost all the 
 
 barons forsook Prince Louis, who treated them with 
 
 The French ,„,.], contempt, and returned to their allegiance to 
 
 are sent ^ v , ,,,,,, f ) <ni ^ There were two fights, one on land 
 
 and <>!;>• at sea; the English conquered both times, 
 
 and Louis was obliged to ask for peace. The English, " who," 
 
 d beyond measure to be rid of him," soon 
 
 mad, with him, and he on his part seems to have been 
 
 thankful to get away. " Each and all gave one another the kiss 
 
 of peace, many of them deceitfully. . . Louis was conducted 
 
 with all speed to the jea-coast, and thence, in lasting ignominy, 
 
 d to Frai And this is what .Shakespeare has to say 
 
 about it : — 
 
 " This England novor did, nor never shall, 
 Lie at the proud fool of :i conqueror, 
 But when u first did help to wound itself"
 
 xxu.] RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 217 
 
 Now these her princes are come home again, 
 Come die three corners of the world in arms, 
 And we shall shock them ; nought shall make us rue 
 If England to itself do rest but true." 
 
 3. Henry II I. hid a long reign of fifty -six years. It was 
 not a very peaceable one, though he grew lip to be a harm- 
 less, well-meaning man, very different from his father. I5ut he 
 was not at all suited for those disturbed times, and by his 
 dulness as well as his weak amiability he got into great disputes 
 with his people. For the mere signing of Magna Charta by 
 John was not enough, in itself to settle the liberty of England; 
 it took a great many more years of struggling before all those 
 good resolutions could be kept and obeyed. We see how 
 thoroughly right has conquered at last. All the abuses, the 
 bribery, the tyranny, the injustice of all sorts which had pre- 
 vailed before Magna Charta sound to us outrageous and even 
 absurd. They have been so trodden down and abolished that 
 we now look on them as a mere story of the past; but our fore- 
 fathers had to hat tie for many long years to get them trodden 
 down and abolished, 
 
 1. Henry III. had a greal reverence forEdward the, Confessor, 
 and rather reminds us of him in several ways. Be was religion-, 
 like him ; he was gentle and refined ; he Liked musio 
 and poetry; his private life was very good, but he , ni T s . 
 not wise or strong. And, like Edward, he 
 
 1 foreigners, bringing them over in crowds, and 
 making them bishops and Lords in England. The English of his 
 Liked this no better than Earl Godwine and the English of 
 those days had done. 
 
 ... Moreover, he offended the people in one way which 
 
 Edward the Confi isor never did -by his taxes and greed for 
 
 money. Edward, as we remember, had seen a little devil 
 
 dancing on his money bags, and had abolished the oppressive 
 
 Henry had not the eyes to Bee the same, and be went 
 
 "ti coveting and I Storting hi.-^ subjects' money, till they had to 
 
 rebel again al Last. 
 
 is of the earliest acta of his reign were religious ones. 
 II much under the guidance of Archbishop Stephen, and 
 
 likely his great reverence for Edward the Confe or was 
 partly learnt from him, for we know bow he and the barons bad 
 wished for his laws back again. Probably they often balked to 
 the young king about him, and when Henry grew to be a man 
 named his sous by the old English name., of Edward and
 
 218 LECTURES ON ENGLISII HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Edmund, names which had gone out of fashion after the Norman 
 i nquest. 
 
 7. AnotheT way he had' of honouring Edward the Confessor 
 we must feel to have been a very strange one. It was by 
 pulling down his last beloved work, the old West- 
 WeS Ah{ inSter m i nster Abbey. Remarkable as it sounds, it was 
 really meant in that sense. Just at this time a new 
 style of architecture had come into existence, perhaps the most 
 beautiful of any thai has ever been invented by man, which we 
 call Gothic. The old Saxon or Norman architecture, with its 
 thick, massive pillars and round, richly-decorated arches, was 
 grand, solemn, and beautiful; but the new Gothic, which had 
 taller and more slender pillars and pointed arches, was also grand 
 and solemn and still more beautiful. The Westminster Abbey 
 which Henry III. built is the same we see and love so much 
 now, the " loveliest thing in Christendom." When we look at 
 it, when we walk along its stately aisles and look up to its lofty 
 and shadowy roof, we feel that there were other thoughts in the 
 hearts of the people of the middle ages besides the fighting and 
 disputing which history books are full of — thoughts which they 
 did not know how to put into words, but which breathe and live 
 for us still in the unperishing stone. Lovely and sacred as we 
 feel Westminster Abbey to be, we cannot help being grieved 
 that Edward's old church, which had been thought so grand and 
 wonderful in its day, ami which, no doubt, was full of beauty 
 and interest, was swept away. But those who destroyed it at 
 least knew in the fulness of their hearts and their enthusiasm 
 1 bat they could do something better still, and would make a still 
 worthier abode for the shrine of Edward the Confessor. 
 
 8. Soon after the first stone of the Lady Chapel of West- 
 minster Abbey was laid, the young king, who was now about 
 thirteen years old, was taken to Canterbury, to a 
 
 1220. grand service in honour of Thomas a Becket. About 
 
 Cathedral 7 *'"- v .Y'' :us before a great fire had burned down the 
 
 finest part of Canterbury Cathedral. We should 
 
 think that a terrible misfortune now, but we might not feel it quite 
 
 anch as the people did then. It gives us another glimpse of the 
 extraordinary sort of religions feeling there was in those days to 
 how they behaved on the occasion. "They tore their hair; 
 they beat the walls and pavementof the church with their shoulders 
 and the palms of their hands; they uttered tremendous curses 
 against God and his saints; . . . they wished they had rather 
 died than have seen such a day." However, they soon set to
 
 xxii.] RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 219 
 
 work to repair the evil, and built it up again more splendid than 
 before, rilling the windows with painted glass, many of them 
 being pictures of the miracles wrought at the tomb of St. 
 Thomas. Kext a most costly shrine was made to contain his 
 bones, and when all was complete the young king and a mag- 
 nificent procession, with all the great lords, archbishops, bishops, 
 an 1 a great many Frenchmen and other foreigners, assembled to 
 carry the new shrine to its resting-place. 
 
 9. With all this religious and artistic work, the archbishop 
 was not the man to forget the liberty of the people and the 
 it Charter. When Henry was about fifteen the archbishop 
 and the other nobles demanded of him to confirm it again. One 
 of the king's counsellors objected, saying that the charter had 
 been extorted by force, and the king ought not to be bound by 
 it. But the archbishop was very indignant at this, and said 
 angrily to the counsellor, " William, if you loved the king you 
 would not disturb the peace of the kingdom." When the boy- 
 king saw the archbishop so angry he immediately promised to 
 observe the charter, though he tried to escape from keeping this 
 ise afterwards. 
 
 1<». After the archbishop's death troubles began to increase. 
 For one thing, there was again a gnat dispute about who should 
 succeed him, and again it was referred to the Pope 
 
 decide. This time the Pope determined to take 1228 
 the king's side, the reason of which was that he was g? at u of 
 
 in great want of money, and the king's parly pro- Langton. 
 
 mised him an immense reward if he would favour 
 them. We may be rare the Pope did not mention this motive. 
 He sent letters full of the most wonderfnl com- 
 pliments to the Church of Canterbury. He said The p °P e 
 it wae "the mo I noble limb of the apostolic see;" ln a gain reS 
 it was "the pai idi e of | I are and the garden of 
 sweets;" it had init"the tree of the knowledge of good and 
 evil" (by which he Lb said to have meant the archbishopric), 
 and " the tree of life " (meaning the monks), and " from it, flowed 
 a miracle-working river" (the blood of Thomas a Becket). After 
 all these compliment rid he meant to place in that paradise 
 
 the man whom the king recommended as archbishop. 
 
 1 1. The reward the Pope had for this was a promise thai he 
 
 should 1. nth part of all the moveable property in England 
 
 and Ireland. Bui this was rather easier to promise than to 
 
 perform. For when the Pope's met engei came to England 
 
 • the money, "the earls, I ind all the laity declared
 
 220 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 plainly that they would not give it." The bishops and clergy, 
 
 '• after two or three 'lays' deliberation, and no slight grumbling," 
 
 were obliged to consent, lest they should be excom- 
 
 1229 - municated. The Pope's chaplain exacted what he 
 
 extortions could 8 et in sll<;1 ' a ll;ush and un J ust wav tnat ifc 
 increased the "grumbling" very much; he even 
 
 made the clergy pay the tenth part of the value of the corn which 
 was still growing green in the fields. The bishops had to sell or 
 pawn the sacred sacramental cups and other valuables out of the 
 churches, and Roger says that only "one circumstance gave 
 some Blight consolation and comfort, " which was, that other 
 countries were in the same plight as themselves, and were being 
 taxed and tormented in the same way by the head of the Chris- 
 tian ( 'hurch. 
 
 12. All through this long reign we come upon the same thing 
 over and over again— the extortions of the Pope. One day there 
 were some English clergymen at Rome whom the Pope! saw; 
 they were very handsomely dressed ; more especially, they hail 
 their vestments trimmed with some fine gold fringe, which 
 pleased the Pope's eyes greatly. He asked where this splendid 
 fringe was made ; and when he heard it was in England, he 
 exclaimed, " Of a truth England is a garden of delights; truly 
 it is an inexhaustible well, in which many things abound; from 
 which many things may be extorted. 1 ' So lie immediately sent 
 oul " sacred li I ters " to the abbots in England forthwith to procure 
 him Bome of this golden fringe to ornament his own vestments, 
 but sent ii" money to pay for it. The English abbots had to do 
 part of the business, " hut it struck many with detestation 
 of the evident avarice of the Roman Church," says Matthew 
 Paris another monk of St. Alban's, who tells us this story. All 
 til- men who wrote histories at this time were monks, but when 
 we read what they say about the avarice and extortion of the 
 and his people, we could imagine their narratives had been 
 written by the mosl vigorou tants. 
 
 L3, All i even yel there was no difference of belief in 
 
 land, there is little doubl thai all this helped to pave the 
 
 . the Reformation by alienating the hearts of the people, 
 
 and doing away their respect for tin- Pope. Not content with 
 
 always grasping for money, the Pope also sent Italian clergymen 
 
 to take possession of the best livings in England. 
 
 Indignation j[>,., ,j,],. i„. ; _ :ill to rise up against this. Letters were 
 
 England. • s '' llt a " over tn '' country to all the bishops and clergy, 
 
 urging them to resist. Nobody could exactly say
 
 xxii.] RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 221 
 
 who sent them, but the writers said of themselves that "they 
 would rather die than be put to shame by the Eomans.'' Not 
 only so, but armed men began to go about. One of the rich 
 Roman clergymen, who had been made Canon of St. Paul's, was 
 seized and hidden away, none knew by whom. Alter about 
 five weeks he made his appearance again, safe and sound, 
 though, as was said, with his purse emptied. Another, whose 
 bains and granaries were well stored, was likewise visited by 
 some armed men, who emptied the barns for him, " sold the corn 
 on good terms fur the benefit of the whole district, and charitably 
 gave a portion of it to the poor." 
 
 1-4. Once the king, the nobles, the bishops, and all the people 
 joined in sending some spirited letters to protesl against the Pope's 
 extortions and injustice ; but Henry was too weak to keep firm, 
 he v. 1 into taking part with the Pope again. 
 
 But though Stephen Langton was dead, many of the English 
 bishops and archbishops followed in his footsteps, and struggled 
 nobly for English freedom both in Church and State. This is 
 what the same historian, .Matthew Paris, tells of an Archbishop 
 of York whom the Pope excommunicated. "The archbishop 
 endured all the tyranny of the Pope with patience, and did not 
 de-pair of receiving consolation from heaven. Neither would he 
 I »w the rich revenues of the Church on unknown and 
 unworthy persons from beyond the Alps " (meaning the Italian 
 y), " nor submil Iikea woman to lie bent to the will of the 
 ! .... On which account, the more he was cursed by orders 
 of the Pope, the more he was blessed by the people." 
 
 1"). All this avarice and extortion, besides the distress it 
 • d in taking so much money and corn away from the people, 
 worked verj ill in another way. .Men lost their 
 
 ct for a Church the head of which Bhowed Irreli e ion - 
 himself o unworthy of respect, and rather naturally, if not 
 in to lose their respect fur religion also. It appeals 
 that at this time the ma of the people wen- very irreligioua 
 Probably the Pope's plan of the interdicl had helped this a 
 good deal. Shutting np the churches and having no prayers or 
 
 sermons must have been a very ] r way of improving the 
 
 people. Mosl likely a great many gol u ed to it, and lost their 
 care forgoing to church at all. Thi wa nol only in England. 
 The whole history ■ npe at this period is full of the same 
 
 of thing; the Pope interdicting, excommunicating, and 
 extorting money in all dii I lently, religion was 
 
 i very low ebb.
 
 b 
 St. Francis. 
 
 222 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 16. Eut there arose two great "saints" in this dark time to 
 arouse the world from its sins and its sleep. Though we must 
 differ from these saints in many ways, we can feel that they 
 had a fervent love for God, and one of them, certainly, perhaps 
 both, a fervent love for man. One of these was an Italian, 
 the other a .Spaniard ; and though they did not come to Eng- 
 land themselves, a great many of their followers did come, and 
 soon gained a wonderful influence over the people. The Italian 
 
 saint was called Francis, and though we may, perhaps, 
 think him mistaken or credulous, he was bevond doubt 
 a true and noble saint. He was all made up of purity, self-denial, 
 humility, and love. He saw the horrible evils of the pride and 
 luxury and avarice of the clergy, and he called on his followers 
 to renounce all these. He, though the son of a rich man, gave 
 up all he hail, and took poverty fur his bride. His heart over- 
 ilowed with love, first to Christ, next to Christ's brothers on 
 earth, the poor and the sick ami the afflicted ; next even to the 
 birds and beasts. It will hardly be wasting our time to read the 
 little sermon which he preached to the birds. "My little 
 sisters," he said, as they sang and twittered around him, " you 
 have talked long enough ; it is my turn now ; listen to the word 
 of your Creator and be silent." "My little brothers, you should 
 love and praise the Author of your being, who has clothed you 
 with feathers, and given you wings wherewith to fly where you 
 will. You were the first created of all animals. He preserved 
 your race in the ark. He has given the pure atmosphere for 
 your dwelling-place. Sou sow not, neither do you reap. With- 
 out any care of your own, He gives you lofty trees to build your 
 in, and watches over your young. Therefore give praise to 
 your bountiful Creator." 
 
 .\11 the- wild animals loved him. and it is no wonder that those 
 who entlest and noblest among men attached themselves 
 
 to him also. 
 
 17. The Spanish saint was named Dominic. Many beautiful 
 
 (hi pictures are -till t,, be seen of him; and he too was passion- 
 
 _. _ . . ately followed by many holy men; but he did not 
 St. Dominic. , . J j ' c ,. -, ,., 
 
 care so much Lor loving as ht. Francis did. 
 
 He thought more oi people' belief, and in the end his followers 
 
 did a deal of harm. Bui now these two great men, (me of 
 
 whom has bei n called the Apostle of Faith, and the other the 
 
 Apostle of Wori I oul againsl the pride, the love of money, 
 
 the cruelties, and the sins of the Church and the world. They 
 
 both longed earnestly to save souls. Eor this they both gave up
 
 xxii.] RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 223 
 
 all they had and all they were, and crowds of followers gathered 
 round them. For in their secret hearts men love self-sacrifice 
 and devotion more than sloth and ease ; they have the Divine 
 Bpark within them, however deeply buried, which is ready to 
 kindle up when the sacred flame is visible in the life of another. 
 So there were found many and many who were ready to follow 
 the call, and to take up the cross. 
 
 18. They were called brothers; in French "freres;" in the 
 Freuch-Enu'li.-h "friars." Numbers of them came to England. 
 The Dominicans wore black dresses, and were called . 
 lilack Brothers, or black Friars; they had a place 
 
 near Blackfriar's Bridge, which still bears their name. The 
 Franciscans wore grey dresses, and were called Grey Friars. 
 These friars went about among the ignorant, neglected people, 
 preaching mosl fervent, earnest sermons. The people had per- 
 haps hardly ever heard sermons before, and they crowded to 
 n. It was a great religious "revival;" far more stirring, 
 . ise in Buch greal contrast to the ignorance all around, than 
 even those we sometimes see now, and these men's lives were a 
 still better sermon. Poor, barefooted, and humble, they lived 
 and worked among the sick and needy. In those days, when 
 very ignorant of sanitary laws, of everything to do 
 with drainage, cleanliness, and ventilation, there used to be most 
 frightful illi of which we know nothing now except by 
 
 : Leprosy, for instance, was very common, The brothers 
 of St. Francis settled down among these wretched sufferers, and 
 devoted themselves to tending and comforting them. Thus 
 religion began to be felt again as a real thing among the people. 
 
 19. Butt! fault of the Dominicans soon began to show 
 ;'. Not content with preaching what they thought was the 
 
 truth, they by and bye joined very heartily with the Pope and 
 the ! in persecuting those who did not believe jusl the. 
 
 same thai they did. It never once entered their minds that they 
 might, perhaps, he mi taken themselves; nor that, as Long as 
 people Lived innocent live-, no one had any right to ill treal them 
 lor their opinion-;, n., ; everybody was to believe exaetlj the 
 samel hing, and those who thought differently were to be horribly 
 punished, and to be Looked on as grievous wolves. The Domini- 
 : t of pun on i heir name, which in Latin, it split 
 in two, mean Do of the Lord Domini-cam ; md they thought 
 it a great part oi tie' bu lie' of good dogs t" hara and kill 
 the wo] " wolves " were often v< ry b inn 
 
 and very good people. A great deal of mo i cruel i" ' ecution
 
 22i LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.eot. 
 
 went on at this time in the south of France against some 
 "heretics" who were really much better Christians than their 
 persecutors. J Jut as yet then' were no wolves or heretics in 
 England. A very few poor Germans had come into the country 
 in the time of Henry II., who seem to have been almost what 
 ■ liriuld call Protectants now; hut they had been most cruelly 
 treated, ami had made no converts. 
 
 20. Another great step wasi now made, which would in due 
 time help the coming reformation. AVe are, as yet, very far 
 
 from that apparently. But it was doubtless growing 
 education underground a long while before it came to light 
 
 and Bhowed forth it- hranehes and fruit. The great 
 step I now speak of is the advance of learning and education, 
 and especially the growth of the universities. Strange to say, 
 nobody quite knows the beginning of either Oxford or Cam- 
 bridge. It has often been said that King Alfred founded the 
 University of Oxford. Itut this is not believed by modern 
 scholars, and probably it was only said because Alfred was such 
 a great hero, and "England's Darling," that people thought 
 whatever good thing Lad been done of old must have been done 
 by him. A great many other things are laid to his credit with 
 which he really had nothing to do 
 
 21. But at this time Oxford began to be very famous, and 
 crowded with scholars and teachers Instead of only learning 
 
 ■logy, ni'ii !>'.M!i t... -inly other things; they began to read 
 
 the thoughts of great and wise men of old — men who had lived 
 
 long before Christ ; men of other religions, and other ways and 
 
 habits, other governra >nts and other ideas. And so they began 
 
 t < have wi ler thoughts themselves, and to see how many more 
 
 thing- there were in heavenand earth than they had ever dreamt 
 
 of. They also began to study more accurately 
 
 30 mathematics, and natural science, as astronomy and 
 
 Optics. That is to say. they bpgan to learn something 
 
 of tie- way the, world is m id^. and tie- natural laws which govern 
 
 it. When we say natural laws, what can we mean but God's 
 
 ? the laws which lb' made for the powers of nature, and 
 
 which lb- due. qoI alter and change perpetually. 
 
 22. We have seen how superstitious the people were then; 
 whai ■ things they believed, such as we could never believe 
 
 Some of their cleverest writers tell these tales with the 
 utmost gravity. One of them writes how the arm and hand of 
 St. Thomas, which he put in our Lord's side, was kept in a vessel 
 in a certain city, and by it the people of that city made their
 
 xxn.] RELIGION AND EDUCATION. 225 
 
 judgments. " For -when there is any dissension between two 
 parties, both parties write their cause in two bills, and put them 
 in the hand of St. Thomas ; and, anon, he casts away the bill of 
 the wrong cause, and holds still the bill with the right cause." 
 Another tells of a little society of wild ducks which were under 
 the protection of a particular saint ; and if any injury befell the 
 Church or the clergy they withdrew from the pond which they 
 generally inhabited, and would not return till " condign punish- 
 ment had overtaken the offenders. Meanwhile, during their 
 absence the waters of the pond, which were before very limpid 
 and clear, became stinking and putrid." 
 
 23. Again, we know how frightened everybody was if there 
 were an eclipse of the sun or moon, or if a comet appeared. 
 Tiny thought that a sure sign that something fearful was going 
 t i happen, and would gaze in awe and terror at the sky, won- 
 dering what it might be. ]S*ow, why are we not frightened when 
 see an eclipse of the sun or of the moon? why do we all 
 laugh at those ridiculous stories about the ducks, &c. 1 
 
 -i. Because now we have learnt something about the laws of 
 : universe, and we know that neither God nor the saints are 
 iya interfering with those laws. How grandly David writes 
 of this. 
 
 " Praise Trim, sun and moon: 
 
 Praise Him, all ye stars of light. 
 
 Praise Bim, all ye hi avens, 
 
 Ami ye waters th it are above the heavens. 
 
 I.< i tin in praise the name of the Lord : 
 
 For Hi spake the word, and they wen.' made; 
 
 Hi commanded, and they were created. 
 
 Be hath made them fast for ever and ever : 
 
 II' hath given them a law which shall not be broken." 
 
 onomers have qow learnt so much of this law which shall 
 not be broken that they know when an eclipse will lake place, 
 and why it take place, and when a cornel will come into sight, 
 and tli it neither have anything at all to do with our acts or our 
 misfortunes. Thus we may hope that studying the laws of 
 native is reallj studying the laws and thought of God ; and it 
 quite hi ip from tho e fooli h ideas which make God and 
 
 i be changeable and uncertain, sometime even 
 childish and revengeful. 
 
 25. It. was ju^t aboul this time thai the first Englishman 
 tidy these things. II i name ■■■ i Roger Bacon. I to 
 - of those men who take an intere t in every- 
 thing, from the ran and the stars down to the com- ogei ,lcou '
 
 226 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect 
 
 mon dust at their feet. He began to study the true nature of 
 these things. It is said that he first invented telescopes, -which 
 give such wonderful revelations of the distant heaven above us. 
 He i- also said to have invented gunpowder j we could heartily 
 wish that that never had been invented; but Roger Bacon did 
 not discover it with any thought of Mowing his fellow-creatures 
 to pieces "with it; it was only as a curious experiment. Tins 
 great man. being so much wiser than the rest of the world, was 
 thought by the common people to be in league with the devil; 
 the noise and Hash of bis gunpowder might very well frighten 
 people dreadfully, and would seem quite demoniacal ; and Roger 
 u had a very hard life, as many great men have. Though 
 hundreds of years passed before he found followers, and before 
 his thoughts became the thoughts of other men, his work did 
 not really die ; it is bearing fruit still. And we may hope that 
 to him study was its own reward, as it is to those who love it.
 
 xxrn.j THE PARLIAMENT. '2-27 
 
 LECTURE XXIII. THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 Foreigners. The king's extravagance. Demands for money. The 
 
 barons i.-i>t. .Simon <le Moutfort. The parliament. Character of 
 Prince Edward. The last Crusade. 
 
 1. While all this ■■ Dg on in the nation the king grew up, 
 
 and soon began to affronl bis nobles and all his subje< ts by his 
 extravagance and love of foreigners. His mother 
 had come from Angouleme, and he himself by and - : 
 
 married a princess from Provence, and crowds 
 of their relations and dependants came to England. Henry, 
 who wa ble to say "No," received them all kindly, 
 
 enriched them, and honoured them. Be brought in other 
 Frenchmen himself, who were "poor and covetous after wealth." 
 "These men,'' I. r of Wendover, "used their utmost 
 
 endeavours to oppress the natural En gush subjects and nobles, 
 calling them traitors, and accu ing them of treachery to the 
 kingj and be, simple man that he was, believed their lies, and 
 
 e them the charge of all the. counties ami baronies, as al 
 all the- youth of the nobility, both male and female, who went 
 foully degraded by marriages." Wherever the king went 
 
 he wae surrounded by crowds of these foreigners. One of them 
 in particular, who worked a greal deal of mischief, was made 
 »p of Win . and "nothing wa.- done in England hut, 
 
 what ti B ■"!> of Winchester and this hosl of P 
 determined on," Roger complains. So it >n and on ; I 
 
 crowds kepi pouring in; moreand more angry grew the English. 
 '_'. 'I lie kin f fooli b em ro ity and i k I ran agance kepi bim 
 always in want of money. Hi Isabel rriedto the 
 
 Emperor of Germany, and her wedding ornaments 
 and tro • re i pli nd;d that, they 
 
 •alth." "She Bhone forth with such a profu- 
 sion of i id gold necklaces, and other splendid jewels, with 
 .-ilk and thread garments, and other like ornanu nts v. bich usually 
 
 ict the gaze and the d< in ol women, that they 
 
 q a
 
 223 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 appeared invaluable." Then Roger, who, though a monk, seems 
 
 lather to enjoy all these pomps and vanities, tells about her 
 
 beautiful bed, and the line sheets and pillows she had, and of 
 
 her cups and dishes of the purest gold and silver, 
 
 Extrava- „ ^ w ^ &i Beeme ft superfluous to every one, all the 
 
 cooking-pots, large and small, were of pure silver." 
 
 She was provided too with many line, highly-trained horses, 
 
 having their saddles, bridles, and other trappings elaborately gilt 
 
 and embroidered. 
 
 3. This is the last thing Roger of "Wendover tells us; his 
 'Chronicle' ends here very patriotically, for he takes a pride m 
 tracing up the pedigree of Isabella, through Henry l.'s wife 
 Matilda to "the renowned King Alfred (leaving out all mention 
 of the Conqueror William), and through Alfred back to Adam, 
 adding that, being "descended from such ancestors, she was in 
 every respect worthy of a marriage with the emperor." 
 
 4. All those splendid things which Henry gave to his sister, 
 including the silver saucepans, must certainly have cost a great 
 deal of money, as well as his own marriage festival, which was 
 likewise very magnificent. He got as much money as he could 
 out of the people by all sorts of means ; but though he made 
 them very angry, he could not get enough. He was in debt ; ho 
 was obliged to summon the nobles together to see what he could 
 el. tain from them. 
 
 5. We get the account of all this from another and still 
 cleverer monk of St. Albans, who went on writing the history of 
 the times he lived in alter Koger left off, and who, perhaps 
 because he was born or educated in that city, is generally called 
 Matthew Paris. 
 
 lb- tells us that on the summons of the kinc; the nobles 
 
 as- mbled " in a countless multitude," being told that they were 
 
 wanted "to arrange the royal business, and matters 
 
 1237 - concerning the whole kingdom." But when they met 
 
 ether they found out that the "royal business" 
 
 summoned. Wa "> to ask for a thirtieth part of their whole property. 
 
 The king's clerk spoke for him very pitifully and 
 
 i;ly. He made a few excuses, and then said, "The king is 
 
 now destitute of money, without which any king is indeed deso- 
 
 ; he therefore humbly demands assistance of you in money." 
 
 6. Et is not wonderful that the nobles, " not expecting anything 
 
 of;, murmured greatly," and at last replied withindigna- 
 
 tion They said they were oppressed on all sides; 
 content. cu)1 „taiilly paying such large sums of money; and
 
 xxiii.] THE PARLIAMENT. 229 
 
 " they declared that it would be unworthy of them, and injurious 
 to them, to allow a king so easily led away, who had never 
 repelled nor even frightened one of the enemies of the kingdom, 
 even the least of them, to extort so much money so often, and 
 by so many arguments, from his natural subjects, as if they were 
 slaves of the lowest condition." They also said that they ought 
 to help in chousing the king's counsellors and ministers. 
 
 7. Then the king tried to excuse himself by saving he had 
 spent so much money on his own marriage and his sister's 
 marriage. To which they openly replied that he had done all this 
 without the advice of his subjects, and they ought not to share 
 the punishment, as they were innocent of the crime. 
 
 8. This is a vi ay important point to notice, because it involves 
 another of the great principles which the English kings and 
 
 ii struggled and fought about at intervals for 
 
 many centuries; namely, that the people who pay Taxation. 
 
 the money ought to have a voice in the spending it; that the 
 
 rnment is not to lay on taxes without saying what the 
 
 mon< wanted for, and hearing whether the country, the 
 
 pie who are to pay, approve it or not, That, too, is firmly 
 
 ed uow, The government cannot lay on a single tax, or get 
 
 a sixpence oul of the country, withoul saying whal they want it 
 
 foT : and the Bon e of Parliament, which represents the country, 
 
 if th'-y do not approve, may say No. This was, however, quite a 
 
 new idea about this time. Before that the king and his ministers 
 laid "ii the ; they thought lit. A good king would have 
 
 only laid on jut taxes, and for good purposes. A wicked king 
 would lay on unjust taxes, ami for bad purposes. A weak- ami 
 extravagant king dike Benry III.) would also lav on unjusl 
 and heavy taxi olish purpo es. So there is no doubl the 
 
 barons were quite righl in demurring to the demand. 
 
 '.>. The end of it this time w;i -, that the king submitted to the 
 advice of his subjects, proclaimed Magna Charts over again, and 
 made otl ••'! promises, which pleased everybodj ■> much 
 
 that tie . e him ile- money In- asked for. Bui ahoul live 
 forwards he wanted money again; he had broken all his 
 prom md no one knew what had become <>\ the money 
 
 time the Dobles were -till more angry, ami bound them- 
 selves by a most olemn oath to give tie- kin j no more. 
 
 1". All this time deal of good v. idually working 
 
 out of the evil. The more money the king demanded, the i 
 pood rule.-' : h . made to limit his power. Par- 
 
 liami in" I- and more often. This Parliameut -
 
 230 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 word "parliament" is quite now in English history at the iime 
 we are sp< aking of. It was a French word, and means " talking" 
 or niakin] bes. It is not certainly so good a word as the 
 
 old-fashioned " witan " or " witenagemot," the assembly of wise 
 men, but it grew more and more like the old assemblies of our 
 free ancestors. One very great and most important change in 
 this direction was made at this time. The council, or witan, 
 only consisted of great lords, bishops, abbots, and the like. 
 They helped the king to make all the laws and appoint all the 
 ; But it was not only they who had to pay the taxes. All 
 
 mailer country gentlemen, knights and yeomen, had to help in 
 that. Why. then, were they no1 to have a voice in the spending?* 
 11. There were great difficulties in the way. England being 
 now all one country, under one king, instead of consisting of 
 numbers of little tribes, there was no place where 
 Represent- suc j, a mu ititude could assemble. Nor would they 
 aUV nifnt'. ein " ali Av:, " 1 l! "' frouhle of coming a long journey to 
 London, or wherever the parliament might he held. 
 What was to be done 1 ? A very good plan had been devised. 
 These country gentlemen and knights, of whom there were a 
 tny in every county, mighl choose two or three of their 
 ber 1" go to parliament, might tell them what they wished 
 at the laws or aboul the i :< . and bid them speak for them. 
 Those who were thus chosen to represent the others were, called 
 "ki hire." And so they are still ; we have never 
 
 been able to find a better plan than this ; it is the beginning 
 of whal is called "representative government." 
 
 12. These knights of the Bhire or county had already been 
 
 called up sometimes to the meetings of the council before now ; 
 
 hut there were also other people who had to help pay the 
 
 lid very rich people too, who had never yet been allowed 
 
 iy a word, either as to the laying them on, or the spending of 
 
 them. They were doI nobles or knights at all, nor had they 
 
 any land belonging to them. These were the rich merchants 
 
 tiven -], n n in the towns. The Lord Mayor of London, 
 
 indeed, was already considi red a very important person, and, as 
 
 i ne of the twenty-five who had been appointed 
 
 to harass the king. But now, towards the end of Henry III. 's 
 
 n, the inhabitants of the large towns were called on to elect 
 
 Jj their mind in parliament, and to look after their 
 
 ests. This also goes on to the present day. We have 
 
 * In old times [see p. '12, every freeman bad been entitled to a place in 
 _ r ri at assembly of his tribe.
 
 xxni] THE PARLIAMENT. 231 
 
 exactly the same sort of parliament now that was settled in 
 
 this reign. We have the king or queen to preside ; we have all the 
 
 lords ( >f England, the 1 »ishops and archbishops ; we have the county 
 
 B, the " knights of the shire ; " and we have the borough 
 
 members, elected by the towns. All the principal alterations 
 
 which have been made since that time have been only in giving 
 
 more and more of the people the power of voting for members. 
 
 13. "We cannot suppose that great changes like these were 
 
 brought about without a struggle. The king and the barons at 
 
 last came to open war. Very curiously, the man 
 
 Who headed the barons, and who fought so hard for J* *£ 
 
 English freedom, was by birth a Frenchman, but he 
 
 large estates in England, and had married the king's sister. 
 
 He was Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester. The 
 
 , . , . ' , , , , „ , Simon de 
 
 king, who was now growing old, bad a line brave montfort. 
 
 hi Iper in his eldest sun Edward. Edward naturally 
 
 took his father's part, and fought in his cause, bu1 he had good 
 
 how much wisdom there was on the other side, 
 
 and when he became king he did not follow his father's example, 
 
 • rather trod in the steps of his uncle, Simon de Montfort. 
 
 II. Two great battles took place between the king and the 
 
 The first was .-it Lewes, and in it Simon conquered, and 
 
 the king and his son were made prisoners. It was while the 
 
 king was his prisoner that Earl Simon was able to settle those 
 
 matters about calling on the townspeople to semi 
 
 • 1 2fi5 
 
 members to parliament. \ ■■ r his famous w . ' 
 
 [lament was held rnnce Edward contrived to nament. 
 ion pul himself al the bead of an army, 
 which fought with Simon al I. • ham. This battle was won by 
 Edward : the old King Henry was rescued, and Simon was slain. 
 15, "Thus ended the labours of thai noble man, Earl Simon," 
 mold hi torian, " who gave up not only hie property, but 
 his person, to defend the poor from oppression, and for the 
 maintenance of justice and the rights of the kingdom." He adds 
 that the earl v I both for learning and for piety, 
 
 and that he pul idence in t he praj ers of n I men. 
 
 He loved and honoured by the people thai after his 
 
 death 1; el to b 'it, ami it, v. orted thai many 
 
 miracles were worked at bis tomb, Hi work was never 
 
 undone, though he died in the hour of defeat. Bis young 
 querer, Edward, who was one of the nobli teal ol 
 
 our kings, carried it on when, after a fewquiel yeai more, Henry 
 died, and his turn came to n
 
 2:V2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 10. Tt seems a great mistake that he is always called 
 Edward I., since there had been already three English kings 
 
 named Edward, though ho was the first who had 
 ■ borne the name since the Norman Conquest. It 
 
 looks as if all the kings before that time had been 
 mere nobodies ; but we know that was not so. The first 
 Edward was the son of Alfred, and a very glorious king, 
 who ought not to be forgotten. The third was Edward the 
 Confessor, whom both English and French regarded with great 
 reverence, and after whom tins Edward was named. 
 
 17. His reign was a very prosperous and happy one for Eng- 
 land. He was a true Englishman ; he loved his people, and his 
 
 people loved him. He was not by any means a 
 character l""' 1- l' ( ' ct character ; but a man need not (happily) be 
 
 quite perfect to be dearly loved and honoured, and 
 to do great and noble deeds. He had already won the admira- 
 tion and confidence of the nation before his father's death, 
 though he had done some fierce and cruel things too. But he was 
 the sort of man an Englishman loves. He was tall and handsome. 
 In his youth he was fair, and had yellow hair, but as he grew 
 older we are told that "he was swarthy, and the hair of his head 
 black and curled;" in his old age it was snow-white. He was 
 brave, clever, and affectionate. The English have always loved 
 • their royal family affectionate and dutiful to each other. 
 Edward was a most loving son to his weak but kindly father. 
 When the news was brought him that the old man was dead, he 
 was bo grieved that the people about him were astonished. It 
 was he who brought from abroad the rare and costly marbles 
 which decorate his father's beautiful tomb in Westminster Abbey. 
 In the battle of Lewes, where he and the king had been made 
 JOneTS, he had shown himself very fierce and revengeful, 
 -t the men of London. But he could be forgiven 
 for that, because the reason he was so fierce against them was, 
 that a little while before they had insulted and endangered his 
 mother. He was also a most affectionate husband. 
 
 18. Edward had another great virtue, which is very dear to 
 Englishmen — he loved truth and honesty. We have seen how 
 insincere the other kings had been, and how they were always 
 breaking their word. One of the things the Pope thought he 
 had a right to do now was to release people from keeping their 
 promises, and even their most solemn oaths. During the later 
 part of Benry [XL's reign, when Simon de Montfort and the 
 
 had made him and Edward swear to redress the
 
 xxm.] THE PARLIAMENT. 233 
 
 grievances of the nation, and to govern according to law, the 
 Pope by and bye sent over word to absolve them from keeping 
 the oath. King Henry was glad enough to be absolved ; but 
 Edward, though he loved his father, would not follow his example. 
 He had chosen for his motto two very plain English words, 
 " Keep troth ; " and he would not be absolved by the Pope from 
 keeping his word. 
 
 Edward was not perfect; and as his life Avent on he did not 
 always " keep troth ; : ' but at the bottom of his heart he was sin- 
 r, iv. II, Nil into faults sometimes, but he recovered himself, and 
 he would frankly own where he saw himself to have been wrong. 
 
 19. Then, too, Edward was a true image of chivalry. He 
 wanted to be a perfect "knight;" and he had both the good 
 and tin' bad parte of thai character. At one time, before he was 
 kin;:, whilst he waa engaged with a troop of men in restoring 
 order and putting down the revolters, he heard of a famous rob- 
 ber in a wood near. This man, Adam de Gordon, was reputed to 
 In- very ind brave; and Ed ward, who was also strong and 
 brave, Longed to try which i M fight best in single combat. 
 
 ad of allowing the two little armies to have a regular battle, 
 
 he forbade them to interfere, so that he ami the robber, chief 
 might tight it out. between them. Alter a long conflict Edward 
 • ■■!•, but lie was o delighted with the skill and valour 
 of the man thai he advised him to surrender himself, promising 
 him his life ami a good fortune. This robber was, in fact, a 
 tleman by birth, who in the wars bad Losl .-ill his property, 
 
 and had taken to a wild life ; bul he DOW threw away hifl arms 
 
 and surrendered to the prince. Edward kept his word, restored 
 his inheritance, and became In • faithful friend. 
 
 20. At another time Edward went to a great tournamenl in 
 
 Plane.-. IP- had loou followers j but the lavhln who bad 
 
 challenged him came with nearly 2000. The English began to 
 
 that tie- Fn ocbman had deceivi d them ; it was not to be a 
 mock fight, but a real fight \ and they were bul one to two. But 
 they behaved like true Engli omen, and defended themselves 
 valiantly. Edward himself was attacked in a furious way by the 
 French counl ; lint he sate like a roe!., and at the righl moment 
 tell in his turn on the count, till he made him cry I'"!' mercy. 
 
 i . i be dark Ide of i bivalry as well a. it heroic. 
 
 one. In the affray we hear that the knights who fell wi 
 
 alive, luit the poor followers, the men who fought on foot, were 
 
 killed, " because they were but rascals, and no il was 
 
 made "I them."
 
 234 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. Elect. 
 
 21. As for Edward's cleverness, we will only read what Baker 
 says of him. "He had in him the two wisdoms — not often 
 found in any singly; both together, seldom or never — an ability 
 of judgment in himself, and a readiness to hear the judgment of 
 others." 
 
 22. He was married some years before his father's death. His 
 wife was a Spanish princess, named Eleanor. When she cam'' 
 
 to England she was received with great honour. 
 
 1254. "The king gave orders," says Matthew Paris, "that 
 
 H * s she should be received with the greatest honour and 
 
 reverence a1 London, as well as at other places : but 
 
 especially at London, where her arrival was to he celebrated by 
 
 ions, illuminations, ringing "I 1 bells, songs, and other special 
 
 demonstrations of j"\- and festivity. On her approaching that 
 
 city, therefore, the citizens went to meet her, dressed in holy-day 
 
 clothes, and mounted on richly-caparisoned horses; and when 
 
 the noble daughter-in-law of the king arrived at the place of 
 
 abode assigned her, she found it hung with palls of silk and 
 
 tapestry like a temple, and even the floor was covered with arras." 
 
 This seems 1" have been the firsl time Englishmen had ever seen 
 
 a carpet on the floor; they were still content with hay and 
 
 rushes, as Becket had been; for Matthew Paris adds, "This was 
 
 by the Spaniards, according to the custom of their country; 
 
 but this excessive pride excited the laughter and derision of the 
 
 people" (rather like the John Bull of our days, who is ever 
 
 ly to laugh at "new-fangled" plans to which he is not 
 
 ace 1). 
 
 23. Eleanor proved a mo I and loving wife, and Edward 
 ■was devotedly i L to her. When, at Last, after many years 
 nt' happy life, she died at Borne distance from London, either in 
 Lincolnshire or Nottinghamshire, the king brought her body to 
 Westminster to be buried. Thai was a Long and troublesome 
 journey in those days, when the roads were verj bad, and they 
 
 ral nights on the way. At each place when- they 
 halted forthenighl King Edward afterwards caused a monument 
 to 1"- set up. The Gothic architecture was now in its prime, and 
 these monuments were very beautiful. One of them still stands 
 by the side of a road near Northampton; il is richly ornamented 
 with sculptured niches and statues of Queen Eleanor. The last 
 iped at was a little village between London and 
 r, and there too a beautiful monument was set up. 
 It was said that it was called "the dear queen's cross." In those 
 days the kings and queens still talked French more than English,
 
 xxiii.] TIIE PARLIAMENT. 235 
 
 'lis name was in French "Chere Eeine;" and we may still 
 
 see a model of Edward's monument at Charing Cross, with the 
 
 ar queen's" images on it. But though this would he a very 
 
 pretty derivation for the name, it appears that little village had 
 
 been called < Jharing long before. 
 
 24. After Simon de Montfort's death, and when all was quiet 
 in England, Prince Edward went on a Crusade to the Holy 
 Land, accompanied by his wife. This was the ninth 
 and last Crusade. Like all the others, there was 
 
 ry and self-devotion, as well as much cruelty. But 
 
 they could not gain their end ; they could not win hack Jerusalem. 
 
 By degrees the kings of Europe began to realize that they had 
 
 I r. -iav at home and govern their own kingdoms, than wander 
 
 v, spending their own lives and theii people's lives on what 
 
 led mi last only a dream, llioii.u'li a heautiful dream. 
 
 l'.">. Though the Crusades were so mixed with evil, with pride 
 and jealousy and cruelty, though so many noble lives were 
 wasted and buried there, we cannot think they were all evil. 
 There was true religion, true, unselfish devotion,in many hearts. 
 And in other ways too they worked Borne good. They led 
 I :■• to travel, and to see other countries and oiler races of 
 men ; and this must have made some of them larger-hearted, as 
 King Richard had learned I the nobleness and goodness of 
 
 the Mahometan Saladin. 
 
 But Edward's adventures in Palestine musl not detain us ; we 
 have quite enough todowith England, and Wales, and Scotland. 
 lie ■ ,i abroad when his father died, and he by no means 
 
 hurried himself to come home, for it was not till August 1274 
 
 ■ he made Ids appearance in England. 
 
 26. The coronation-fea t mu i have been something like a 
 
 ■ indeed. < >rd< i i prtn ide 31 oxen, 430 sheep, 
 
 . 1 8 wild boar i (so 1 hi re must have been still wild boars 
 
 in I : land, but apparently noi many;, and mure than 19,000 
 
 fowls and capons. He and his queen were welcomed with the 
 
 joy and honour : " tie s^ere hung wil h i ich clol h 
 
 ilk and rid tapestry; the aldermen of the citj threw 
 
 out of t hi it window hat Id and ilver, to n'gnify t he 
 
 had conceived of hi afe return ; t he conduits 
 
 ran plentifully with white wine and n I, that each creature 
 
 ht drink his fill." Bi id< the aldermen's gold and silver, 
 
 600 gre it hoi • , on ome of which Ed ird and hi folio 
 
 ridden to the banquet, were let loo e among the crowd, any 
 one to take them for his own a he could.
 
 236 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [t-ect. 
 
 LECTURE XXIV.— EDWARD I. EXGLAND AND WALES. 
 
 Edward's government. Dispute about taxation. Humphrey Eolmrt. 
 The old over-lordship of Finland in Wales and Scotland. The Welsh 
 people. Conquest of Wales. 
 
 1. Edward deserved a hearty welcome. Ho set his mind to 
 govern his people well, and for their good and happiness. 
 Though he had fought against Simon de Montforton .„„„ 
 his father's side, yet be now clearly saw that his plans 
 had been for the real advantage "!' the country, ami he carried 
 them out himself. He summoned parliaments such as Simon 
 had summoned, consisting of the lords and bishops, the county 
 members, and the town members. 
 
 '1 Hut things were very different then from what they are 
 
 now. We all. know how fond people are of being members of 
 
 parliament now ; how they do and say all they can to 
 
 Edward 8 j, u i un , \\ ie electors to choose them, and look upon it 
 parliaments- . . ... / . 
 
 ill.' greatest honour, as indeed it is. Hut in 
 
 those days it was considered a greal burden and a great trouble. 
 
 It was very difficult to gel the members to conic i.. parliament \ 
 
 the towns did not like the trouble and expense of .sending 
 
 representatives (who were paid in those d md it. was quite 
 
 difficult to assemble them together. People did not as yet know 
 
 1 that would come of it. It is generally a few. or 
 
 , . i j .s only one wise man. who first Bees what is the right 
 
 thing to do, as the world slowly changes; he is probably called 
 
 a fool for it, or mad, foi tie- common mn of people cannot see 
 
 what he sees. Perhaps, and indeed mosl Likely, he gets killed, as 
 
 Simon was, or despised and balf-starvcd, as Roger Bacon was. 
 
 Bui by and bye his id< \& tell; a few more people begin to 
 
 understand them ; then more and more; at last Ids wise thought 
 
 is believed by everybody— it he. -Mines a sort of common-place; 
 
 and in the end the truth prevails, and must prevail, in the world 
 
 which God made. 
 
 .".. Another set of people who might have come to parliament
 
 xxiv.] EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 237 
 
 would not come. Those were the clergy. Just as there were 
 bishops in the Upper House, there might have been clergymen in. 
 the Lower. But they would not come. And now all a clergyman 
 can do in governing his country is just what other men can do ; 
 he can vote for members of parliament, bnt he cannot be one 
 himself. This is probably a very good thing. For highly as the 
 clergy are to be respected in their own sphere, in teaching and 
 studying, in caring for the poor and in visiting the sick, it has 
 been found in all history that they are not good at governing, 
 JWe have already seen enough of the Pope's government, and the 
 harm it did ; but when Protestant and Puritan clergy have got 
 into power (as they did once in Scotland) it has not answered 
 well, either for themselves or the country. 
 
 4. lint though Edward fully approved of the new sort of par- 
 liament, allowing all the principal classes of people to be repre- 
 sented, there was one thim: which he took a very „, 
 
 • • TllC tftX6S 
 
 long time in consenting to, and a most important 
 thing too ; which was, that do taxes should be laid on without 
 the run-, nt of the people taxed. He had a masterful temper, 
 and li>' wished to lay on the taxes himself as he thought lit. He 
 
 n"t ,i selfish, extravagant, and foolish king, like his father, 
 and very likely would have laid on fair taxes, and for wise pur- 
 I Bui the barons knew better than to give up the right they 
 
 had fought for and won. Though Edward was a good king, who 
 iv what his son migbl be '. It came to a struggle. There 
 wen- two principal nobles who withstood the king. When they 
 found thai he obstinately held out they refused to obey him. He 
 
 going to Flanders on a war. and he ordered his nobles to fol- 
 low him. They refused. Then tin- kin'' said to one 
 of them, Humphrey Bohnn, Earl of Hereford. "Sir 
 I i. you -li:ill either go oi hang." But Humphrey stoutly 
 
 wered, " Sir King, ] will neither g r hang." The end of 
 
 the ' was thai righl conquered. The king owned thai he 
 
 ive in ; iIm- principle was firmly established. 
 I ome centuries after this, threw the whole counl ry into 
 
 rebellion and losl his own life by trying, a - Edward tried, to evade 
 it — 1<> Li wn will, wit limit the cou ent ol the 
 
 people. 
 
 5, Meanwhile, Edward made many good laws for the proteo 
 tion and prosperity of the nation, and the land wa pi aceful 
 and thriving. But we musl now turn to Edwaj w 
 wara ; for thou will never, if we can help it, 
 
 much time ovi in f< r< ign pari . Edward's principal
 
 233 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot; 
 
 wars were in Greal Britain itself, and brought us into connection 
 with other people dwelling in the Lsland, who are now our fellow- 
 Bubjects. He made up his mind to leave France alone. Eia 
 father had longed 1" get back his possessions on the Continent, 
 but Edward saw that was hopeless, and he turned his whole 
 attention to Great Britain. 
 
 G. We have now travelled over a period of more than 1300 
 years in the history of our country ; that is, from the 
 The British \[ mQ w hen its written history began. Through all 
 3 es ' this time there has been one great difference between 
 its condition then and its condition now. Now the British Isles 
 are regarded as one nation, governed by one queen and one par- 
 liament, and called the United Kingdom of Great Britain and 
 Ireland. Great Britain, of course, includes England, Wales, and 
 Si 'land. Our history, so far, lias been working up to this result. 
 In i lie early part of it, after the English first came over from 
 Germany, even England itself was not one. There were many 
 different kingdoms and kings. Little by little, these kingdoms 
 grew together. First there was one principal king, and the other 
 kings were under him; then by degrees the other kings dropped 
 off, and the one principal became the only one among the English. 
 
 7. But besides the English, there were a great many other peo- 
 ple in the British Isles. Tie re were three sets of Welsh people, 
 in Wales, Strathclyde, and Cornwall, speaking another language 
 and having a greal many kings of their own. There were the 
 
 •h, who were also divided into different sets of people, with 
 their own kings and chiefs. And there were the Insh As the 
 
 turies went on, some of these began to be united to England 
 too. Some of the Welsh kingdoms, as Cornwall, and a good part 
 
 Strathclyde, were swallowed up, and became part of England. 
 I of the English kings became a sort of head or over- 
 lord to mosl of the others. Alfred's son, the first Edward, had 
 been, as they then said, " the father and lord" of all the Scotch 
 and all the Welsh, besides being King of England. The Scotch 
 and the Welsh princes did homage to the English kings again 
 and again, as when Edgar the Peaceable was rowed on the river 
 Dee by eight tributary kings, and again when Macbeth and the 
 other Scotchmen did homage to Cnut. Afterwards Henry II. 
 conquered Ireland, so that things seemed to be gradually working 
 towards the united kingdom which we have now. 
 
 8. Bui all this time the union had been very loose. None of 
 the -mailer kingdoms could believe that it would be really for 
 their good to be united into one strong body; they all wanted
 
 xxiv.] EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 239 
 
 still to be independent, and soy, " Who is lord over us 1 " Some- 
 times, and indeed very often, the Welsh and the Scotch tried to 
 throw oil' their submission ; then there would come fights and a 
 great deal of trouble, as in Edward the Confessor's reign, when 
 Harold had to go twice to light the Welsh and compel them to 
 submit. Now Edward I., who had given up almost all idea i f 
 ining his grandfather's lost possessions in France, wanted to 
 the head and a sort of emperor in Britain, and that all the 
 other princes should be really under him, and do homage to him. 
 lb- saw very plainly how good it would be for the whole island 
 of Great Britain to be united. England wasthe largest, strong 
 and richest part, therefore his plan was for England to be head ; 
 but he m- anl Wall sand Scotland to be well governed by just and 
 good laws, and not to be tyrannized over. He began with Wales. 
 
 9. We have not heard much about the W^elsh for a long time. 
 They wen-, it will be cemi inhered, the descendants of the ancient 
 Britons, whom our forefathers, the English, had 
 
 driven away into the western parts of the island, the Welsh 
 Tin- same archdeacon, Giraldus Cambrensis, who 
 travelled in Ireland in the reigns of Henry II. and Richard I., 
 wrote also a very interesting account of Wales. He was indeed, 
 as bis name tells us, half a Welshman himself, but highly 
 educated and living at court Bis description of Wales he 
 dedicated to Stephen Langton, and though it was written a Little 
 re the time of Edwasd 1. it ie uol likely thai things bad 
 changed much. 
 
 10. The ancient Britons bad learned Christianity before the 
 Lish came, and bad never forgotten their religion. At this 
 
 time the Welsh were still considered a very religious 
 people, religious after the fashion of thai time. The e 1 & lcn - 
 Archdeacon Gerald tells us "they show a greater respecl than 
 other nations to churches and ecclesiastical persons, to the i 
 
 . bell . holj I I. . and I be cross, \\ bich they de\ oul I \ 
 
 They had a very odd way of showing honour tot! • 
 'I unity, which was thai "they hi down by three to a di b, in 
 honour of the Trinity." Even up to this time it wa nol u ual 
 for people to have plates to themselves, but two, three, or four 
 people would go shares in one dish. They had anothi t n ligious 
 custom at meals which wai rather more reasonable. "Thej [ive 
 
 piece broken <-il from < v< ry loaf oJ bread to the poor." 
 
 they did nol d • it deal oi bread. They do nol seem to 
 
 have made much pn in civilization all tin.- time, and, like 
 
 moot half civilized people, they lived iu<>\<- on milk, cheese,
 
 S40 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 butler, and meat than on bread, because they knew and cared 
 very little about agriculture, nor was their country well suited 
 to it. 
 
 11. They cared nothing about trade or manufacture either. 
 For ships they had little wicker boats covered with skins, just 
 as the old Britons had. Such boats are still used 
 on the "Welsh rivers for fishing. They lived in 
 little houses made of boughs of trees twisted together, and 
 which would last about a year. They had no gardens nor 
 orchards, but would gladly eat the fruit of both when given to 
 them. 
 
 1 — . Besides religion, the one thing they cared most for was 
 lighting, and they seem in their way to have been very good 
 warriors. They were light, active, and bold; they 
 carried light arms too ; for asWales is full of moun- 
 tains, and at that time was also full of bogs, heavy-armed men 
 and horses could not have got on at all. If they ever happened 
 .0 be at peace, they still "meditated on war," and the young 
 men were always practising themselves in climbing mountains 
 and enduring all sorts of fatigues and hardships. They thought 
 it a disgrace to die in bed. 
 
 13. They dearly loved their country, as most mountaineers do, 
 and they dearly loved their liberty ; and they liked fighting and 
 plundering so well that they were very troublesome neighbours 
 to the English. But with all this quarrelsomeness, they seem 
 to have been pleasant people, with tastes and ways that were 
 very charming and refined. They loved music as much as the 
 Irish did. Their chief instrument was the harp, and Gerald 
 says they could play it in a most skilful and beautiful way, 
 1 1 sides which, they could sing very harmoniously in parts. 
 
 14. Tiny were naturally a bright, quick, clever people, and 
 remarkably kind and hospitable. It must have been very 
 
 pleasant to spend a day in a Welsh family. If a 
 anefhabits v '~' , " r came '" ^"' niorning he was entertained all 
 
 day "with t he conveisat ion of young women and 
 the music of the harp, for every house has its young women ami 
 barpi allotted for this purpose." This sounds very agreeable, 
 but they certainly appear to have feasted the mind better than 
 the 1, ..ily. '1 hey did not gel much to eat till supper-time, and 
 even then "the kitchen floe,- not Bupply many dishes, norhigh- 
 i.' d incit( mi ate to eating. 'I be house is not furnished with 
 taldes, clothe, nor napkins. The dishes are placed before them 
 all at once, upon rushes and fresh grass, in large platters or
 
 
 «iv.] EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 241 
 
 trenchers." The principal food was a sort of thin cake of 
 bread, with chopped meat and broth. They were also very 
 temperate in their drink. All the time the guests were eating 
 the host and hostess stood up, " paying unremitting attention to 
 everything, and taking no food till all the company are satisfied, 
 that in case of any deficiency it may fall upon them." They 
 also took great pains to amuse their visitors with witty convers- 
 ation and jokes, to ■ make them laugh. The archdeacon takes 
 the trouble to tell us some of their jokes ; but they, it must be 
 owned, do not seem to have been quite as witty as he thought 
 them. One of the besl of them is how a person, " wishing to 
 hint at the avaricious disposition of the mistress of a house, said, 
 ' I only find fault with our hostess for putting too little butter to 
 her salt.'" Fearing we may miss the point of this joke, he 
 kindly explains it by adding the learned remark, "whereas the 
 »ory should be pul to the principal;" There was also a kind 
 of riddle about their little boats, which were so light that a 
 strong salmon could overset one with his tail, and which the 
 fisherman could carry on his shoulders. "There is amongst us 
 a people who. when they go out in Bearch of prey, carry their 
 m their backs to the place of plunder; in order to catch 
 their prey they leap upon their horses, and when it is taken 
 carry their horses borne again upon their shoulders." 
 
 15. But the chief glory of the Welsh was their poetry. Somi 
 of their were brighl and joyous, full of love for beautiful 
 things: for the mountains and the sea, the wild 
 
 birds and the wild flowers, apple - blossoms and oe iy - 
 
 r. and WOO(3 mii'Miiuius, and for lovely maidens. I'.ut as 
 
 they loved oilier th iy different from these sweet and 
 
 ■inl one-, they had al full of war and battle, and 
 
 ; ■ love of country and liberty. 
 
 16. The Welsh hid nevi I hating tic- English, or the 
 
 lied them (and call them to this day). 
 They could never forgel thai the whole land U8ed to 
 
 . nor tic cruelty of the heathen con of the 
 oi , who had driven them off into the wild region English. 
 tlcy -nil called their own. They had never left off 
 hoping thai ome da} all the Britons would i lin and drive 
 
 the sjtrai . hack again to Germany. There were many 
 
 strange old prophecies among them by poets of old, which had 
 
 beon handed down from father to son, and which aid that their 
 
 t dead, bul had bi en i ai lied away into fairy 
 land to be bidden and healed, and that at the right time he 
 
 B
 
 242 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 would come Lack and lead them all to victory. The principal of 
 
 tlnsc old prophets was .Merlin, of whom W6 read 8UCh -wonderful 
 
 tales in Tennyson's poetry. Just about this time everybody, 
 both in England and Wales, and iii other places too, was very, 
 full of the thought of King Arthur and the wizard Merlin, 
 because of that charming ' History of England' mentioned before, 
 which had been translated into English in the reign of King 
 John, and which contained numbers of the old Welsh legends 
 and fairy-tales, told as if they were all sober truth. 
 
 17. A large part of the book is taken up with Merlin's pro- 
 phecies, which at that time were thought very wonderful ; and 
 the Welsh were just now in a high state of excitement, believing 
 that they were about to be fultilled. All through the reign of 
 Henry 111., when the English country was so busy with its own 
 troubles and disputes, the Welsh were growing stronger and 
 
 T fiercer. They had a brave and clever prince named 
 
 Llewellyn. One of the prophecies was that a prince 
 of Wales should be crowned in London; and all the Welsh 
 hoped that Llewellyn would be the one. He gained some great 
 successes while Jhnry was still king, and the other smaller 
 princes in Wales did homage to him. 
 
 18. He and his people could not endure the thought of his 
 being a vassal to the King of England, and when Henry died, 
 and Llewellyn was summoned to do bomage to Edward, he w r ould 
 not cme. He was sent for again and again: still he would not 
 come. Edward's patience was worn out at last, and he marched 
 
 -__, into Wales with an army. Now though the AVelsh 
 
 were fiery and always ready to fight, they seem to 
 
 bad very little perseverance. They were " very severe in 
 
 the in -i attack, terrible, by their clamour and looks, tilling the 
 
 air with horrid shouts, and the deep toned clangour of very long 
 
 trumpets, . . . Bold in the first onset, they cannot, hear a repulse, 
 
 they cannoi struggle tor the Held of battle, or endure long and 
 
 re actions." " Iii their firal attack they are. more than men, 
 
 in the second less than women." 
 
 1'.). Again, they were very faithless and untrue; theythought 
 nothing of breaking their most solemn oaths and promises; so 
 that when Elward set hi- mind in earnest to conquer Wales he 
 had not much difficulty in doing so. The other lesser princes 
 who had sworn to he faithful to Llewellyn broke their oaths 
 and deserted him. Edward brought his armies and fleets near 
 enough to hem him in among the desolate mountains of Snow- 
 don, without venturing too far in among them himself, and he
 
 
 xxiv.] EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 243 
 
 had to beg for mercy. A sort of peace was made, and for four 
 years it was kept. After that time the Welsh broke out again ; 
 there was some hard fighting, hut the end of it was that Edward 
 conquered, and Llewellyn was killed. His head was 128 „ 
 cut oil', and it is said that Edward sent it to London, 
 had it crowned with a wreath of willow, and set up on the 
 Tower in a mocking fulfilment of the prophecy. Soon after this 
 Ll.-wellyn's brother David, the last of the royal family of Wales, 
 was taken prisoner and most cruelly put to death. Thus Wales 
 was subdued, and has ever since been looked on as 
 
 of the English kingdom, though the Welsh did J^aTef 
 not submit heartily, till after many years, in the 
 
 • of events, a Welshman came to he King of England. 
 
 20. Edward used his conquest wisely. He treated the people 
 well, he governed them justly and mercifully, and introduced 
 many of the English customs and laws, which were better than 
 their own ; so thai probably the Welsh were, in the end, a great 
 deal better off foi having been conquered. 
 
 21. It used to be said that Edward, seeing what a wonderful 
 
 influence the ] be had on the people by their warlike songs and 
 
 propheci I cted them all together and had them murdered. 
 
 Med ■• the massacre of the bards," and there is a very 
 fine poem about it, beginning " Ruin Beize thee, ruthless lung," 
 supposed to be Bpoken by the last of these poor "Welsh hards. 
 But, happily, the ■ nol true, and we need uol think that 
 
 our brave Edward was a "ruthless" or merciless king at all, 
 although he sometimes had his enemies put to death, But in 
 those days this was done by everybody. 
 
 22. I: n after this time thai theeldesl son of the King 
 of England was in i called by the title of Prince of Wales. li 
 
 I that Edward, Beeing how unwilling the 
 proud Welsh wen; to Bubmit to a foreign yoke, 1284 - 
 promised them that he would give them a prince of „ p .. 1C . 
 their own -born in Wales, and who could not Bpeak wales." 
 one word of English. The Wei li being much 
 pleased at this promise, he presented to them his own young on, 
 who had been bornafewdaj before in Carnarvon Castle, and 
 who, if he could jpeah uo E lish, could certainly speak no 
 
 Welsh. The story is rather a g 1 one, so we may hope it is 
 
 true; bu i not mentioned in any book written at the time, 
 
 : very doubtful. 
 
 23. But even if it were true, when the Welsh accepted this 
 infant as theii prince he was nol the eldest -"H, t n Edward h i I 
 
 It 2
 
 244 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 already a son named Alphonso; so they probably Imped that he 
 would be the Bang of England, and that they would still have 
 a separate prince of their own, though an Englishman. As it 
 turned out, Alphonso died, and the young Edward of Carnarvon 
 afterwards became King of England and Wales'both. Tims 
 Wales quite ceased to have a separate government ; for the title 
 of Prince of Wales, still home by the eldest son of the reigning 
 sovereign, does not give the prince any power over Wales, which 
 is as much under the queen and the parliament as any other part 
 of Great Britain. 
 
 24. After this conquest, and before Edward turned his atten- 
 tion to Scotland, he performed an act which to us seems very 
 
 harsh and cruel, though it was doubtless looked on 
 
 1290. \xfija i jV himself and his subjects as most Christian 
 
 Banish- ;m( j p ra ig eW orthy. This was, that he finally drove 
 
 the Jews. a ^ the Jews out of the country. We have already 
 
 seen how cruelly the Jews were treated; how the 
 
 kin^s extorted money out of them by all sorts of means, and how 
 
 the people every now and then rose and massacred them. It 
 
 was "enerally believed that they did many cruel and wicked 
 
 things : that they stole Christian children and murdered them in 
 
 secret, and that they tried to get mysterious poisons from foreign 
 
 lands to pnisnn all Christendom. Though the kings of England 
 
 had, tnor ■ less, protected them from the time of William the 
 
 Conqueror onward, as being in some sort their own property, 
 their protection did not go far, and all sorts of hard and tyran- 
 nical laws were made, against them. We may wonder why they 
 chose to live in England at all, since they met with such bad 
 »e: but the fact was, that in other Christian countries they 
 were far worse treated ; still more pillaged, and more massacred. 
 
 25. But now Kdward and his people, in a kind of religious 
 frenzy, ordered all the Jews out of the country. Edward, even 
 now, did not mean to he cruel. lie intended them to leave in 
 safety, and, as Borne re them permission to take their 
 property with them. The people, however, treated the poor Jews 
 
 ! awfully in their flighl ; and especially the sailors who 
 carrie. 1 them in their ships. .Many of them were wrecked, others 
 were robbed and flung overboard. One instance is given by an 
 old chronicler, who says that he learnt it from a manuscript 
 written at the time. "Some of the richest of the Jews, being 
 shipped in a mighty tall ship which they had hired, when the 
 te was under sail, and had got down the Thames towards the 
 Lth of the river, the master mariner bethought him of a wile,
 
 xxiv.] EDWARD I. ENGLAND AND WALES. 245 
 
 and caused Ms men to cast anchor, and so rode at the same, till 
 the ship, by ebbing of the stream, remained on the dry sands. 
 The master then enticed the Jews to walk out with him for 
 recreation. And at length, when the Jews were on the sands, 
 and he understood the tide to be coming in, he gat him hack to 
 the ship, whither he was drawn by a rope. The Jews made not 
 so much haste, because they were not aware of the danger; but 
 when tin y perceived how the matter stood they cried to the 
 master for help. He, however, told them that they ought to cry 
 rather upon Moses, by whose guidance their fathers had passed 
 igh the Red Sea. They died indeed, but no succour 
 appeared, and so they were swallowed up by the water." 
 
 Jo\ Edward severely punished these barbarians; but it is to 
 be feared that very few of the 1G,000 Jews who were driven away 
 reached the mainland in safety. It was about 350 years from 
 thi- time before any .lews were allowed to come back, though 
 now, know, as many as like live peaceably in England 
 
 some very rich, some very poor, but all protected by the laws 
 ami enjoying the same liberty, comfort, and .safety as our elvi -.
 
 246 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE XXV. -EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 
 
 The inhabitants of Scotland. The old laws. Candidates for the crown. 
 Edward claims the over-lordship. John Balliol. The first revolt. The 
 first conquest. The stoue of destiny. 
 
 1. We must now see Low Edward prospered in his designs upon 
 Scotland. It is evident that, unless that country submitted of its 
 own accord, it would not be so easy to conquer as "Wales had 
 been. Though much Bmaller than England, it was far larger, 
 more powerful, and more civilized than Wales. The people also 
 were very different. We saw that the Welsh, though 
 of Scotland ^ rave an ^ ^ond of fighting, had not much perse- 
 verance ; they were easily cowed and daunted. There 
 were a good many of the very same race in Scotland also, the 
 Welsh of the northern part of Strathclyde, which by this time 
 was part of Scotland ; and if the whi »le c rnntry had been peopled 
 by the same, perhaps England would, after a while, have subdued 
 them all. But Scotland contained various other races of men as 
 well, [t contained men who were by birth English, Irish, and 
 Normans, though they were now all called Scotchmen 
 
 2. The real Scots were in fact Irish. In very old times 
 1 ad, or part of [reland, was called Scotia, ami the Irish 
 
 .■■iv called Scots. A great many of these had crossed 
 over the narrow sea which divides the two countries, and had 
 settled in the northern part of what we now call Scotland. Eere 
 they found already a great, many wild people living, who were 
 most likely a family of Celts also, called Picts, and the Romans 
 tell us what trouble these two wild sets of men gave them. It 
 was to keep out the Picts and Sets thai Agricola had built his 
 great wall When they were not fighting the Romans oj the 
 Britons, no doubt they spent, mosl of their time in lighting each 
 i ■; and in some way or other, it is not very clear how, the 
 
 »t the upper hand of the Picts; a Sent king became king 
 over them all, and the whole country north of the Forth and 
 the Clyde was called Scotland. The people in this kingdom
 
 xxv.] EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 247 
 
 were therefore nearly related to the Irish, and spoke almost the 
 same language. The Highland Scotch still have a language of 
 their own, called " Gaelic," but it is almost exactly like the 
 native Irish language, and both Irish and ( iaelic are more like 
 Welsh than like English ; they are all three Celtic dialects. 
 
 3. When our forefathers settled themselves in Britain they 
 not only took possession of what is now called England, but of a 
 good part of what we now call Scotland also. The old Anglian 
 kingdom of Northumberland stretched all the way up from the 
 number to Agricola's wall. Edwin, the first Northumbrian king 
 who became a Christian, had built a strong fortress on the 
 northern boundary of his dominions to keep out the wild Scots, 
 which was called Edwin's borough, or Edinburgh. Thus all 
 this part of Scotland, except to the west, where the Welsh lived, 
 was pari of England, and full of Englishmen; the very same 
 
 ile whose descendants live there now. As is well known, there 
 this day a great difference between the two sets of Scotch- 
 men, the Highlanders and the Lowlanders; lie 1 Highlanders being 
 ; a Celtic language; and the Lowlanders, Anglo- 
 
 ms, and Bpeaking English, or ;i dialect of English. (The 
 ! liah Language is now spreading through (he whole country, 
 and all educated Highlanders, and many of the poor also, speak 
 it; bul it e.ui hardly be called their native tongue.) 
 
 I. After a time the Danes and Northmen came .'mil took 
 
 it) of the Islands and northern parts of Scotland, and 
 
 if their descendants still live there. By degrees the. 
 
 •h kings gol the mastery over more and i 'e of the Low- 
 lands, both of Northumberland and of Strathclyde, as far as to 
 the river Tweed and the Solway firth, ami Edwin's borough 
 
 me the capital of Scotland, which would doubtless have 
 surpi ised I'M win very much. 
 
 •'•. After the Norman Conquest the Scotch king showed great 
 kiip! i the conquered English, and married the sister of 
 
 ir the Etheling, who was so good that, she was afterwards 
 called St. M u iret. A great many of the English who were 
 driven out of their ],., |i □ i,y the Normans took refuge Iu 
 
 Land, and were kindly received, Not only that, hut, many 
 
 Normans came there too, who were al i kindly received. Some 
 
 n noblemen bad I at in 5 sot) ind, in England, 
 
 and in Franc m bard to ly whet ber they were 
 
 chmen, Engli bmen, oi I uchmen. Strangely enough, 
 Robert Bruce, who La the very darling of the Scotch, and their 
 type of a p iti lot, belonged to one ol bb i I
 
 24S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 G. Thus, by the time at which we have now arrived, the 
 kingdom of Scotland was in size and boundaries just what it 
 is now ; and though it contained all these different races of men, 
 they all felt themselves, and were called, Scotchmen, and were 
 much attached to their country. It was probably because there 
 were so many of English race among them (who have the great 
 quality of perseverance, and never know when they are beaten) 
 that, instead of conquering Scotland, as he did Wales, Edward I. 
 thoroughly lost even what he had at first. 
 
 7. It would have been much to our advantage if our friend 
 the Archdeacon Gerald, who wrote such amusing and interesting 
 accounts of Wales and Ireland, had travelled in Scotland also ; 
 but there does not seem to be any description of the country 
 written at the time. Still we can learn something about the 
 manners and habits of the people from their own old laws, as 
 well as from the English or other writers, who saw them in 
 England, even if they did not travel into Scotland to see them 
 at home. 
 
 8. A great part of Scotland is very beautiful, full of moun- 
 tains and lakes, and wild moors and heaths. This was the part 
 where the wilder people, the Highlanders, lived. Many hun- 
 dreds of years after this time they were still what we should call 
 very uncivilized, and had many singular customs and ways. At 
 this period even the Lowlands seem to have been far less civilized 
 than England, though, at the same time, in some respects, Scot- 
 land was better off than England. 
 
 9. Some of the old laws of Scotland, which were at this time 
 still io ikl d <>n as the law of the land, though the nation had in 
 
 reality quite outgrown them, make us think that 
 . they managed matters very oddly. We saw that in 
 
 the ulii early English times a man's life was estimated 
 in money. Any one who killed him had to pay a certain sum 
 of money to bis family, according to his rank. A king was 
 worth bo much, an ear] so much, and a plain man so much. The 
 h in the old times reckoned the value of a man not in 
 money, but in cows. The king was worth 1000 cows; a king's 
 Bon, or an earl, 150. The lowest mentioned is forty-four cows, 
 and a little money as welL Even this man must have been 
 descended from a thane, SO we do not know what the value of a 
 plain man, or " churl," i h would have called him, 
 
 might be. After a time they left oil' paying in cows and sub- 
 ited money instead ; and in making all these arrangements 
 the old Scotchmen thought they were making an improvement
 
 
 xxv.] EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 249 
 
 on God's laws. They seemed to have forgotten the Sermon on 
 the Mount, and what Christ had said on this subject, for in 
 their old-fashioned language they take pains to point out the 
 contract. 
 
 ■• All laws outhir are manis lawe, or Goddis lawe." "By the 
 law of * rod," they go on, " a head for a head, a hand for a hand, 
 an eye for an eye, a foot for a font. By the law of man, for the 
 life of a man bo many ky (or cows). For a foot a mark, for a 
 hand as muckle, for an eye half a mark, for an ear as muckle, 
 for a tooth twelve pennies," &c. 
 
 Another of the old laws says that if thieves had been plunder- 
 ing a monastery, the lord of that part of the country should help, 
 and not hinder, the monks in trying to catch them; which 
 looks as if the lords were rather inclined to make common 
 cause with the robbers, and perhaps to get part of the booty. 
 
 10. The laws take great pains to help the poor who were 
 robbed, by putting them under the special protection of the 
 king. " It is ordaDyt al all thai, the quhilkis are destitnt of the 
 help of al men . . . Bal be under the proteccions of the lord the 
 kyng." So the king's own people had to plead for the poor 
 
 man, and it' it was proved that a rich man had robbed a p ■ 
 
 man, he not only had to restore the goods to the owner, but also 
 
 ■ cows to the king. No doubt that last arrangement 
 would make the king and bis servants all the more zealous pro- 
 tectors of the pool- and belpL 
 
 11. The low. i people of all were serfs; but they do not 
 seem fco have been ever quite so low or such actual slave 
 they were in England and other countries, for the 
 
 ere between a thrall, or slave, and a churl ° ser 8 ' 
 
 which was very well known in England, does not seem to have, 
 been very clear, and the erf could very easily become free. 
 
 I -. Again, two great grievances which came upon the English 
 after the Norman Conquest were never known in Scotland al all. 
 Those were the forest laws and the ca tl< , which had ca 
 snch endless misery. Though there were some .Norman noble- 
 men in Scotland, they never had the poweT there thai they had 
 in England; they were rather and friend than ma ers. 
 
 I •">. The country on the whole was dec and fairly governed. 
 'I hey had thriving towns, kept m order by their own i iti , 
 
 and where there were no at alL The 
 
 houses seem to have been built of wood, as they ouses. 
 were nearly everywhere al thai time, < ?hen the Jews had 
 
 begun to build -tone hou es; but in , , and especially
 
 253 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 among the Highlanders, they made both houses and churches of that 
 wattled work which we SO often find wherever there were people 
 of Celtic race. These houses were not nearly so uncomfortable 
 as might he supposed, for the walls were made of a sort of 
 double framework, with turf or earth piled in between, and 
 were quite thick and substantial enough to keep out the wind 
 and rain. 
 
 By the time of St. Margaret, in the reign of William the 
 Conqueror, they began, like the English, to learn from the 
 Normans to build beautiful churches and abbeys, though they 
 were too wise to let them build castles. 
 
 14. Of course in the Highlands there could not be much 
 agriculture. It is impossible to plough up the steep mountain 
 
 sides, and corn will not grow on the Avild moors ; 
 
 Agriculture happily for us, who love to have our world beautiful 
 
 and food. as weU ag p rot ] uct i ve . £ ut j u the Lowlands they 
 
 were already pretty good farmers, though their implements would 
 seem very clumsy to modern eyes. The ploughs were so heavy 
 that they wanted twelve oxen to draw them ; six families would 
 join together, each keeping two oxen, and owning one plough 
 among them. The principal food of the. poorer people was oat- 
 . or coarse grey or brown bread , but in the towns the richer 
 people got white bread, ami plenty of good meat. The butchers 
 were ordered to keep good beef, mutton, and pork, and to show 
 it in their windows to be seen of all men ; if they mismanaged 
 the meat they were punished. The bakers had similar orders. 
 " And quha thai bakis brede to sell, aw nocht (ought not) for to 
 bide it, but sett it in their wyndow, or in the mercat for to be 
 opynly sauld." We do not know if the grocers and other trades- 
 men were a- trie as the bakers and butchers in wishing to 
 
 hide away their g Is, hut they certainly had some commerce 
 
 with . for they got pepper, ginger, almonds and 
 
 figs. They also traded in furs, and had beaver 
 skins and sables. 
 
 15. On the whole they were a hardy race, who cared very 
 little for luxuries, or what we should call comforts. They were 
 
 llent soldiers in their way. This is the account given of 
 them aol very long after by a chronicler, from whom we shall 
 learn a great deal by and bye -Froissart, who saw them himself, 
 at a time when they were invading England, lie says, "They 
 bring no carriage- with them, on account of the mountains they 
 e to pas- in Northumberland ; neither do they carry with 
 them any provisions of bread or wine, for their habits of sobriety
 
 xxv.] EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 251 
 
 are such, in time of war, that they will live for a long time on 
 flesh half sodden, without bread, and drink the river-water 
 without wine. They have therefore no occasion for pots or pans, 
 for they dress the flesh of their cattle in the skins after they 
 have taken them off; and being sure to find plenty of them in 
 the country which they invade, they carry none with them." 
 
 In a camp which the Scotch had just quitted, the same 
 
 chronicler tells as that the English found, besides a quantity of 
 
 dead " 300 caldrons, made of leather, with the hair on the 
 
 outside, which were hung on the fires, full of water and meat, 
 
 It appears that, at any rate when they were 
 
 at war, and could steal other people's cattle, meat was the 
 
 principal food, and bread or oat-cake was a sort of treat or 
 
 luxury when thi y had too much meat. "Under the flap of his 
 
 Baddle," I on, "each man carries a broad plate of 
 
 1; behind him a little 1 oatmeaL When they have eaten 
 
 much of the sodden flesh they set this plate over the fire, 
 
 knead the meal with water, and when the plate is hot put a little 
 
 of tb upon it, and make a thin cake like a biscuit, which 
 
 they eat to warm their Btomachs. It is therefore no wonder 
 
 they perform a Longer day's march than other soldiers." 
 
 Their h as hardy as themselves. The knights and 
 
 squires were "well-mounted;" but the common mm rode on 
 
 "little hackneys, thai are never tied up or dressed, but turned 
 
 immediately he day's march to pasture on the heath or in 
 
 ■ fields." 
 
 K'. Not long after he tells us how so French knights and 
 
 baroi Land a friend i and allies ; " but, all things 
 
 idered," he says, "it, v,. right for so many of the V\ 
 
 nobility to come to Scotland, for Scotland i country. 
 
 Whenever the English make inroads into Scotland, they order 
 their pr< I i follow close al their backs if they wish to 
 
 live, for nothing is to be had in that country withoul the great- 
 lifficulty. The km i l baron of France, who had been 
 
 al home I imed to hand ome houses, richly-ornamented 
 
 apartmei bed , wi re by no mean pli a < >1 il the 
 
 erty they had I inter." 
 
 17. Edward was Likely to find Borne difficulty in getting the 
 upper band of these bold and hardy people if it. came to fighl 
 Lved to try fair means first, or what he, per- 
 
 hl to be fair. To begin with, he ci rtainly The dispute 
 had Borne ht. The vrery dispute which with Eng- 
 
 in ] time, or, al came to a head in his
 
 252 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 time, is still going on among learned men, as to the rights and 
 the wrongs of Edward's claims. We have seen that a part of 
 
 what had once been England was qow in Scotland. For that 
 part the King of Scotland had to do homage to the King of 
 England as his over-lord. Everybody agreed about that. But 
 with regard to the rest of Scotland, then- was a dispute. Edward 
 declared that he was also over-lord of that. The Scotch would 
 jiot agree to it, and this was what the war was about afterwards. 
 It would take too long to explain what each party founded their 
 opinion upon ; but it may be fairly concluded that there was a 
 good deal to be said on each side, and that both thought they 
 were in the right. 
 
 18. Everything seemed to favour Edward at first. By a 
 great many misfortunes the old royal family of Scotland died 
 
 out ; the last member of it was a little girl of three 
 
 Candidates years old, the only grandchild of the last king. 
 
 r tne -jj. wafl arra , ,,_,-,.,[ t li.it she should be married to King 
 
 crown. Edward's son, which would have settled everything 
 
 peaceably ; but as she, unfortunately, died, there was 
 
 a great difficulty in finding out who ought to be king, since 
 
 there were no children, grandchildren, nephews, or nieces of the 
 
 last king left. They had to go back a long way to find any 
 
 member of the royal family who had left any heirs. The last 
 
 one who had done so was Earl David, brother to William the 
 
 Lion, that King of Scotland who had been taken prisoner by the 
 
 English on the day when Henry II. did penance for the murder 
 
 of Becket, more than LOO years before. Unhappily for the 
 
 country. Earl David had left a great many descendants, and no 
 
 than thirteen of them now cane- forward as claimants to the 
 
 crown, 
 
 19. As has been already noticed, the rules concerning the 
 succession to an inheritance were not as yet dearly settled, and 
 there was a great difficulty in deciding between the rival candi- 
 
 b. The Scotch people, who do not seem to have had any idea 
 of what Edward's secrel purpose was, in their dilemma turned 
 their thoughts to him, as one of the greatest and wisest kings of 
 the time, and asked him to decide among the thirteen which had 
 l2 gi the best right to be King of Scotland. But before 
 Edward I. Edward would give a judgment on this matter he 
 claims the demanded that everybody should acknowledge him 
 over-lord- as over-lord of the whole of Scotland. The nobility 
 p ' and clergy, apparently taken by surprise, and per- 
 haps afraid of offending Edward, who had an army behind him
 
 xxv.] EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 253 
 
 could not find anything to say against it. The common people, or 
 community, .save no consent; nobody knows exactly what they 
 did say, for Edward would not let their answer be heard, and 
 they were not yet powerful enough in Scotland for any one to 
 jare much what they thought. Edward therefore felt satisfied, 
 and proceeded to judge among the claimants, who were also 
 made to acknowledge him as lord superior of the whole country. 
 
 20. It was Boon found that of all the thirteen only two or 
 three had anything like a fair claim. The two principal ones 
 were both descended from daughters of Earl David, and their 
 fathers were Xorman noblemen, with estates in Scotland ; one of 
 them was named Balliol, and the other Bruce. Edward decided 
 quite fairly between them ; he said Balliol, who was descended 
 from David's eldest daughter, had the best right, and was to be 
 Kin_' of Scotland, though only a vassal king to himself. 
 
 21. This John Balliol belonged to a very rich and great family; 
 he had estates both in Normandy, England, and Scotland. His 
 father founded Balliol College at Oxford, but ho John Balliol 
 himself Beeme to have been a very poor and feeble 
 character. Indeed, both his friends and enemies agree in calling 
 him a fool, and in the midst of all his difficulties he was said to 
 be a '• lamb among wolves." It was certain troubles would soon 
 ari-e. Whatever Edward might say about the former kings of 
 En.land having been over lord- of Scotland, which some of them 
 
 ,lv bad been, he began to do things which none of them 
 
 had done, and which the proud Scotch could not brook — not 
 
 cruel or tyrannical things, for Edward meant, Scotland to be well 
 
 ruled, but things which offended the independent, spirit of the 
 
 iple. The courts of law in Scotland were no longer supreme ; 
 
 it' any one wa- no! d with the decisions the Scotch judges 
 
 to England, and Let the English judges try the 
 
 u, and what they said was to be obeyed. This was of 
 
 co . . i\ insult to the Scotch, and even the | r " lamb"or 
 
 fooL John Balliol, pi \iv t it. However, his over lord 
 
 soon Btopped bis mouth for that time. 
 
 22. The firsl affair was only an unimportant one, a dispute 
 between a goldsmith of Berwick and a widow, about a .-mall sum 
 
 loney ; but won th< re was a very importanl case 
 
 ,,',,, .i'i i ,• Tho Scotch 
 
 to be decided between ome greal Lords, and one ol , u . ofll , 11(lei i. 
 them appe iled to the King of En {land. I 'i'"" thi 
 l.i ird ictually summoned the King of Scotland to come to 
 England, and appear before the Engli b Parliament, toanswer, 
 he said, tot den) ing justii e. Even l hi I □ li h hi torian ei ms
 
 254 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 startled at this, and says, " This King of Scotland was obliged to 
 stand at the bar like a private person, to answer the accusation." 
 Imagine then what the proud Seidell people felt. 
 
 23. Just at this time Edward had got into a quarrel with the 
 King of France, and the Scotch were summoned, as his vassals, to 
 
 follow him to the war. This, again, was quite a new 
 T hey a , lly thing fur an English king to demand, and we may he 
 with France. suru tae Scotch were not going to obey. On the 
 contrary, tiny and their King John made a treaty 
 with the King of France, promising to help him fight the English. 
 From this time onward, for several centuries, there was an alliance 
 between France and Scotland, and both constantly helped each 
 other against the English. The way the Scotch helped the 
 French at this time, was by pouring over the border into North- 
 umberland, and burning, ravaging, and plundering just as the 
 Danes used to do. 
 
 24. Edward very soon gave up the French affair, and came to 
 Scotland. The Scotch lords now made Balliol send Edward a 
 writing, renouncing his allegiance, and saying that, in consequence 
 of the outrages and insults he had received, he would no longer 
 be his vassal, nor come to him when summoned. To which 
 Edward replied, " Ha ! the foolish felon ! is he such a fool 1 If he 
 will not come to lis, we will go to him." And he did go, taking 
 with him what was in those days a large army — 30,000 foot- 
 
 soldiersand 5000 mounted men-at-arms. He found 
 1296. ver y little difficulty in conqueriug the Scotch. He 
 
 besieged and took the castle and town of Berwick, 
 which is just on the holders. Afterwards there was another 
 fight at Dunbar, and a siege of Edinburgh Cas le ; but that was 
 all tie- resistance worth speaking of. It was a complete conquest. 
 
 Ad tic country submitted. The poor puppet, John 
 
 Conquest of Balliol, was deposed, lie had to appear before the 
 
 Scotland. . , , ... ,. 1 1 . ,. . . 
 
 conqueror m a most humiliating way, clothed m a 
 
 D dress, without royal robes or ornaments, and, instead of a 
 sword, carrying in hi- hand a harmless white wand. He was then 
 
 aded from the kingdom and sent to England, where he was 
 kepi for a time in custody; but not long afterwards he was 
 allowed to leave the country in peace, and go to his estates in 
 Fiance, where he lived quietly for the rest of his days. 
 
 25. Edward was no cruel tyrant; he had no wish to ill-use 
 either Balliol or the Scotch, but he did fully mean to be master. 
 He thoroughly frightened the people by allowing a most cruel 
 
 icre after the taking of Berwick, but when once the land had
 
 xxv.] EDWARD I. SCOTLAND. 255 
 
 submitted he showed himself merciful and just (only they did not 
 want his mercy or his justice). He gave free pardon to all who 
 had rebelled, as he called it, and he endeavoured to establish 
 older and peace everywhere. But he took away from Scotland 
 some things which the Scotch dearly prized. 
 
 _' i. The most important of these was a thing which, to look at, 
 we might not think was worth much. In Edward the Confessor's 
 chapel in Westminster Abbey are to be seen two 
 ancient me of them especially being very old "^e sacred 
 
 and worn. These are called the Coronation Chairs, 
 and in one of them the King or Queen of England always sits to 
 If we look at the seat of that one we see a rough 
 block of stone, nol carved or sculptured, not beautiful marble, 
 merely a rude block of common limestone. That stone Edward 
 brought from Scotland, and the loss of it nearly broke the hearts 
 of the Sc 'I'll. They tried again and again to get it back, but 
 Londoners would never give it up. We may suppose, there- 
 fore, that it had a value QOt of its own. And indeed it has a 
 strange and poetical history, which makes us feel even now. as 
 iok at it, that it is more precious than the ch icest piece of 
 new or polished marble. This .Mom- was called in Scotland the 
 1 1 tiy, and on it all the Scottish sovereigns had site 
 to be crowned and consecrated. In all times, in the early history 
 of almost all people, we hear of sacred stones. We often read in 
 the Bible of stones being reared up as memorials of remarkable 
 This icred Btone of the early Scotch people. 
 
 believed thai ii was the very stone which Jacob took fur 
 pillow when he saw the ladder and the angels. They told 
 had been carried from Bethel to Egypt, from Egypl to 
 Spain, from Spain to [reland, from [reland to Scotland. \ 
 a in tone, and in old times it had done wonderful things. 
 
 of the Scotch people clung to the sacred si 
 
 -7. Edward took it away. II" had already hung up in the 
 
 Coni chapel the golden crown of the Welsh prince; now 
 
 he placed there thi e of Scotland. The other thi 
 
 which Edward brought away from Scotland, even a precious 
 
 : nl of the true cross, which was called the " Holy Rood," 
 
 rward given back to the Scotch. They tried and trove 
 
 ; their precious stone back ; bul no, " the people of London 
 
 would by no mean whatever allow that to depart from them- 
 
 selvi There i dd prophecy in Scotland, that wherever 
 
 the stone was the S otch should be supreme; and when, ."><M) 
 
 after this time, a Scotch k i p l it, and was crowned
 
 256 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 King of England in Westminster Abbey, tbe Scotch had the 
 pleasure of thinking the prophecy was fulfilled. When we look 
 at that old stone, though we need not believe that Jacob's head 
 ever lay upon it, when we try to think of the generations and 
 generations of people who have gazed upon it with reverence — 
 the wild Irish of old, the hall' wild and patriotic Scotch, the 
 brave and serious English; of the sovereigns who have been 
 enthroned on it, from the old savage times, when they si ill 
 thought the stone would groan aloud if a false pretender sate 
 upon it, down to our good Queen Victoria, we cannot help feel- 
 ing, like the Scotch and the Londoners of old, that it is too 
 precious a thing to be lightly parted with.
 
 xxvi.] SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 
 
 LECTURE XXVI.— SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 
 
 Wallace. Battle of Stirling Bridge. The second conquest. Battle of 
 Falkirk. Robert Bruce. His coronation. Death of Edward I. 
 Battle of Bannockburn. 
 
 1. While Edward was in Scotland he made as many as possible 
 of the gn-at lords and bishops come forward and do homage to 
 him again. The Scotch seem to have thought nothing of making 
 and breaking oaths of this kind. Some little time afterwards 
 the eami ony was repeated, and, as Baker Bays, "it seems 
 
 tring "f fealty was with the Scots but a ceremony without 
 substance, as good as nothing; for this is now the third time they 
 swore fealty to King Edward, yet all did not serve to make them 
 loyal." When the king lef i Scotland he took a greal many of the 
 h nobles with him, and the others who were Lefl at borne 
 carefully watched, Lest they should incite the people to rebel ; 
 but after his return bo England things did no! goon very well. 
 The English began to build castles and fortressi -. and did many 
 other things to offend and insull the Scotch. There was a great 
 deal of strife, di content, and confusion, and the Scotch people 
 only wanted a spirited and clever Leader to help them rise up 
 against t he foreign oppres ore. 
 
 2. Though Edward had taken away or silenced all the natural 
 heads of the people, such a leader booh made his appearance. 
 II name was William Wallace; a name very dear 
 to the Scotch to this day. Wallace was neither a Wftllace - 
 
 I Lord nor quite a man of the people. Ee was rather in the 
 middle rank. An old hall. el -.r. "hewa cummyn of Gentil- 
 
 
 " Hi- Fadyr wbm t manly Knyghl 
 II ;i Lady bryent." 
 
 They say he was wonderfully fall and hue! ome, Btrong and 
 brave. His terribli I was lit for an archangel rather than 
 
 for a man. Bi no doubt, a remarkably clever man also; 
 
 Bj
 
 258 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 just the leader the Scotch needed. The English contrived to 
 affront and insult him, and at last, when he had already heen 
 made very furious, they ended hy burning down his house and 
 killing his wife. Wallace now openly revolted, and soon col- 
 lected a band of followers, with whom he began to harass the 
 English. No one can help taking an interest in a man who is 
 del, ■inline- his native land against foreign oppressors, and though 
 the English of those days thought him a "pestilent ruffian," a 
 robber and marauder, Ave are all agreed now in sympathizing 
 with him, and admiring him as a true, hero and patriot. We 
 Lave also another reason foi admiring him, and for thinking he 
 did (or at any rate greatly helped) a wonderful work, a greater 
 work even than that of freeing his country would have been ; a 
 work which in the end has changed the whole face of Europe, 
 and altered all modern history. 
 
 3. Up till this time, ever since the feudal system had been 
 
 fully established, j pie had thought more of knights on horse- 
 
 k " a k * nan °^ an y^ nm o e ^ S6, A knight, and his horse, 
 
 foot- soldiers. ; ""' n ' s armour could only he withstood by another 
 knight with horse and armour. Both horse and 
 armour were very strong and very expensive; the knight him- 
 self was brave, skilful, and highly brained. A leader who had 
 
 ; m at many of these knights was likely to conquer any one who 
 had not so many. The rest of the army counted for almost 
 nothing. Two or three such knights would scatter a whole 
 troop of light-armed and inexperienced foot-soldiers. Thus the 
 knights and the nobles grew prouder and prouder. We saw 
 
 before how they came to call the ] rer men who fought on foot 
 
 cals," and that "no great account was made of them." The 
 
 rich and the p ' grew more and more divided; the rich were 
 
 insolent, the poor were depressed and slavish. 
 
 I. Now Wallace, when he began to resist the English, had 
 
 very few nobles or knights on his side; many who at first seemed 
 
 inclined to take part with him Boon fell away, and submitted to 
 
 Edward again; almost all his people belonged to the peasantry. 
 
 And the grand thing he did was to show t hat, t hey toere of some 
 
 ant, that they could Btand up against the knights, and could 
 
 ler them in defence of their freedom. In other partsof the 
 
 •.••■.lid, in Switzerland and in Flanders, and perhaps because they 
 
 i what Wallace and his men had done, the lower orders — 
 
 the burghers and the peasanl — began to find they could hold 
 
 their own against the barons and knights. By degrees the rich 
 
 grew less proud ; the poor grew more hold ; till they began to
 
 XX vi.] SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. '259 
 
 feel what we hope they are still learning more perfectly, that love, 
 ami trust, and mutual help are better than disdain, and fear, and 
 hatred. 
 
 5. Edward sent an army under the Earl of Surrey to stamp 
 out the disturbances. Wallace met them at Stirling Bridge, the 
 principal way of getting from the smith to the north ; 
 
 he determined to stop the English there. TheEng- 12£ * 7 - 
 lish had L000 men on horseback, the Scotch only ISO. ^JSiiig 
 The foot-soldiers were more nearly equal, but the Bridge! 
 English had more of them than the Scotch. Still 
 Wallace entirely ron-piered the English ; the Earl of Surrey fled ; 
 and the Scotch, taking arms on all sides, seized on a great many 
 castles and fortresses, and drove almost all the English out of 
 the country. This great victory was a wonderful encouragement 
 to the Scotch people; they were vanquished themselves many 
 times afterwards, and had 'jiv.it troubles, but they never forgot 
 that the proud English had been beaten once, and might be 
 be iter) again. 
 
 6. Edward uow determined tocometo Scotland again himself, 
 and pul the rebellion down. This time he broughl a magnificent 
 army with him, :i<> !'•-- than 7« •< »0 of those terrible mounted ruen- 
 
 il many men on foot ar 1 in various ways. 
 
 Wallace, who was not only a brave soldier, but a clever general, did 
 not mean to fight a battle with this formidable army. Bis plan 
 
 ■. Scotland being a poor country to b 
 with, it would always be difficult for a large foreign arm} 
 
 gel f I. Bui Wall awhoca after him followed 
 
 his example) turned it into a wilderness. The people who lived 
 in the southern counties of Scotland, as the war went on, gol in-fco 
 the habit of this. \ ion e an army was coming they all 
 cleared out, not leaving one man behind, and hastened away to the 
 northj tl; - with them everything they had, and thai v 
 
 not much, and left a bare waste for the enemy to march 
 
 through. They used to build ] r little hul of turf and I 
 
 , which could easily be pui up again when they came back, 
 if the enemy had knocked them over. 
 
 7. In 1 1 1 ' i t have been a very miserable kind of life ; bul the 
 Scotch revenged themselves on the Engli h whenever thej could 
 
 by coming in their turn into the norther nties ol England, 
 
 steal in;.' the cattle and anything el a thej could find, burni 
 
 . and killing the ] pie. Not Ion after thi e the 
 
 inhabil A the e part ■ found to be bo poor, in conse- 
 quence of the rai otch, that m than sixty towns 
 
 -
 
 260 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 and villages were excused from paying any taxes. This was just 
 in the same part which William the Conqueror had laid waste 
 300 years before. It is difficult to realize such things as having 
 happened in our own peaceful happy country. 
 
 8. Wallace then with his army, which was very small com- 
 pared with Edward's, hung about in concealment, intending, as 
 soon as want of food drove the English to retreat, to come after 
 them, harassing and doing them all the mischief he could. But 
 
 the plan failed. It is said that two Scotchmen, 
 
 _ * f who knew where Wallace was, made it known to 
 
 Falkirk Edward. Of course he, with his great army, wanted 
 
 nothing better. They marched straight to the spot, 
 
 which was near Falkirk, and the two armies confronted one 
 
 another. 
 
 9. Edward was the very general a soldier loves. He was not 
 what they used to call a " carpet knight ;" one who showed to 
 great advantage in bowers and bads, tournaments and games, 
 but not so gallant in real rights and hardships. When Edward 
 went to war he bore all that the meanest soldier had to bear. 
 lie would not drink wine when the others were thirsty and could 
 
 none. When they had to sleep on the bare ground he lay- 
 down and slept on it too. lie was not above wheeling a barrow 
 with the rest when they were fortifying Berwick. No doubt his 
 presence inspired his men with hope and enthusiasm. 
 
 10. The two armies were a gr< at contrast to one another. The 
 English one must have been very heautiful to look at. The lords 
 
 ami knights were splendidly armed. The armour 
 two armies was heautifully enamelled and chased, and "looked 
 
 as radiant, and as delicate as the plumage of a tropii ;al 
 bird." It was uol only bright, but richly coloured with blue 
 and scarlet and gold. So were the shields and banners. Even 
 addles and bridles of the horses were, embroidered and set 
 thick with gems. Each lord and knight had his own special 
 banmr, with his crest or badge upon it, by which everyone 
 knew him. One would have a falcon, one a lion, one a swan, 
 and so on, which he carried on his shield, and helmet, and flag, 
 so that in the confusion of a battle the Leaders would be recog- 
 nized even when their faces were hidden. From a distance, too, 
 their Hags would always lie known. Besides his large banner, a 
 nobleman would have a greal many smaller flags, called pennons, 
 each with the -ami.' badge on it (we read of one famous knight 
 had 1200 pennons under him), and these would all be 
 Hying and fluttering in the breeze. Eroissart is often breaking
 
 xxvi.] SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 261 
 
 out in admiration al the sight of a fine army. "It was a beauti- 
 ful sight to view these battalions, with their brilliant armour 
 Bring with the sunbeams. ... It was delightful to see and 
 examine these banners and pennons, with the noble army that 
 was under them. ... It was a tine, sight to see the banners and 
 pennons -flying, the bathed horses, the knights and squires richly 
 armed." King Edward had on his banner three leopards " of 
 fine gold, s.-t in red, fierce, haughty, and cruel." 
 
 11. Wallace's army must have been very different to look at. 
 'He had very few of the gay, glittering knights- almost all his 
 army were on foot. l!ut he made so wise an arrangement of 
 these plain hut resolute foot-soldiers that he very nearly won tin; 
 
 11'- placed them in solid masses of men very close 
 
 ich supporting the other • the outer ones knelt 
 
 down, boiling their lances forward J within the squares were 
 
 his archers. When the horsemen came galloping up it was 
 
 dashing against a wall of spears, as firm as a rock; 
 
 nothing made them stir. The knights would have been quite 
 
 helpless againsl these despised foot-soldiers had not Edward 
 
 brought with him a body of Englishmen who were growing yery 
 
 famous now, tin' archers or bowmen. At this time there were 
 
 cannon, bo thai most of the fighting had to he haud- 
 
 :ep1 what could be done with bows and arrows. The 
 
 Engl c archers than any other people; they could 
 
 wonderfully ^ 1 aim, and could handle larger and stronger 
 
 • in other nations, so they could send their arrows farther. 
 II id it not been for the archers, mo I likely Wallace's brave foot- 
 soldiers woidd have won this battle, as they did that of Stirling ; 
 
 but when Edward saw what was happening, and made his 
 
 archers come to the front, it was all over. The solid clumps of 
 
 men were broken up by thearrov pouring in upon them from 
 
 • ince ; then tie' hoi emen could ride in among them and cut 
 
 them down as they plea ed. Even tic lord and knights whom 
 
 had on his side did not, cone forward to help their 
 
 countrymen, but tied away. Some people : . 1 1 . l tin- was because 
 
 the. nobles wen- jealou Of Wall ICO, and did not hke t,, be under 
 
 him, since he, was not :i noble himself; but it may have been 
 only because they were, t'ew in number, and had not, such good 
 arms and strong hoi | he Englii h. 
 
 12. Tim, the English won the battle, and the Scotch army 
 
 up. Wallace had great difficulty in e caping and 
 
 hiding himself. Still the Scotch did nol give in. The nobles 
 
 1 to make head against the English j bul perhaps they
 
 262 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 were none of them so clever as Wallace; and they had to yield 
 at last. Edward was moderate and merciful. When they sub- 
 nut tod lie forgave them all, only putting a very slight punishment 
 on them. He might very likely have forgiven Wallace too if ho 
 would have submitted. He was far too high-spirited for thai ; 
 In' kepi himself in hiding; but la' was caught at last, taken 
 prisoner to London, tried, condemned, and executed. 
 
 13. Edward probably thought all would go well now that the 
 hero was dead ; the Scotch had no leader, and their spirit would 
 be broken and cowed. He began to make arrangements for 
 governing the country, and uniting it to England. He meant to 
 be a good and equitable ruler; lie gave the Scotch good laws, 
 just such as the English had, and did away with some of those 
 curious and old-fashioned ones which were not quite fit for a 
 civilized people. He also promoted many of the Scotch nobles 
 and bishops to places of honour and trust. 
 
 1 I. Lut it would not do ; the people had been thoroughly 
 
 roused, ami their defeats had not broken their spirit at all. 
 
 Very soon they gol the leader they wanted — a man 
 
 ° as brave and clever as Wallace, and a man too 
 
 whom none of the proudest of the nobles could 
 
 object to serve under, since he was one of their own royal 
 
 family, with a good claim to be king of Scotland. When 
 
 Edward had been called on to decide between the claimants to 
 
 tin' crown there were two principal ones who seemed to have 
 
 the be.- 1 right, Bruce and Balliol. Balliol had had his turn, and 
 
 Bruce was dead, but he had left a grandson behind him, Robert 
 
 the Bruce, as he is called. 
 
 15. Edward I. brought up this young man in his court, and 
 it is .said thai al differenl times he fought against the Scotch, 
 and took part with the English. Bui he was uneasy under it; 
 i- not very likely to forget that his grandfather had had 
 the next right to he king of Sent land, and that he was his 
 grandfather's heir. If Scotland should ever have a king of her 
 own again, now that Balliol was out of the way, why should 
 not he be that king? There was only one other man alive who 
 had as good a claim as he had — a man who was called the Red 
 1 vn, and who was a sort of cousin to both Bruce and 
 
 Balliol. 
 
 l'i. Edward watched young Bruce narrowly. But one fine 
 
 morning, not six months after Wallace's death, Robert Bruce 
 
 missed from the English court. There had been some 
 
 words between him and King Edward. There had been some
 
 xxvi.] SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 263 
 
 more words dropped by Edward when Bruce was not by, winch 
 made his friends think lie was in danger. No one dared speak, 
 but Bruce received a present from a friend — a present of a sum 
 of money and a pair of spurs. He was quick enough to guess 
 what that meant. He lost no time. Before morning he, with 
 only two followers, was far on his way to Scotland. There was 
 snow lying on the ground, and he feared he might he traced and 
 followed by the marks of the horses' feet, so he ordered the 
 three horses to he shod with the shoes hind-side before, which 
 made all the footprints look as if they were those of horses on 
 their way into the town. He got safe away, and never stopped 
 till he reached Scotland. 
 
 17. Now, then, here was a man of the royal blood, whom the 
 
 greatesl nobleman would be proud to follow, ready to take the 
 
 had and free his country. Never was a man more fitted for the 
 
 Like Wallace, he was tall, strong, and handsome; like 
 
 him, too, he was clever and full of ideas. That little plan about 
 
 shoeing the horses showed he would be ready with Bchemes 
 
 for any ncy, and was not a mere man of routine. He 
 
 always cheerful, hopeful, and good-humoured : kind and 
 
 to women and to those weaker than himself; he 
 
 had been well educated, and could both read and write, which 
 
 was rather a rare thing for a gentleman in those days. Be was 
 
 ood a knighl as the best, for Edward had trained him up 
 
 in all the rules of chivalry ; bul when necessary he could leave 
 
 • • and heavy armour behind, and live like a wild mountaineer, 
 
 hiding himself in dens and caves, or on the rough heath-covered 
 
 hill 
 
 l . A 1 in- 1 - 1 directly he arrived in Sent land be fell in with his 
 ( in, and possible rival, the Red Comyn. They had a stormy 
 interview in a church, from which Bruce presently emerged pale 
 and agitated. " I doubt I have slain the Red Comyn," he sail 
 t.i his friends who waited ou1 ide. " Dost thou leave such a 
 matter in doubt ?" said one of them; " I will make sicker" (or 
 
 And rushing into the church, he did indeed make 
 thai hi rival, whom he found wounded and help] 
 
 should never trouble him more. 
 
 19. 'I 1 a terrible beginning "l Brace's exploits in hi 
 
 .<■ land, tie nol only drew upon himself the vengeance of 
 
 all Comyn's relations, and the ri entment of the English king, 
 
 but, from the murder having been committed in a churoh, he 
 
 likewise incurred the wrath of the clergy and the Pope, and was 
 
 immunicated. In a sort of defiance of everybody, he at
 
 264 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 once claimed the throne of Scotland, and was indeed 
 
 1306. crowned king. It must have been a dreary cere- 
 nat°ion°'- ™ nnv - "Very few frienda or attendants were present 
 
 to do him honour; the sacred stone was gone; the 
 nobleman whose right and duty it was to set the crown on 
 Ids head refused to come. But his sister, the Countess of 
 Buchan, a brave and loyal lady, without either his consent or 
 her husband's, came to take his place. Edward was so enraged 
 that, forgetting all his chivalry, he afterwards punished tins 
 poor lady by shutting her up in a den or cage like a wild 
 beast's, in Berwick Castle. 
 
 20. For a time everything went ill with Bruce, and he was 
 at last reduced to hide himself in the mountains of the High- 
 lands, as Alfred had done in the marshes of Somersetshire 
 But he never lost heart nor courage. He had a faithful band of 
 friends, who trusted and loved him with all their hearts. All 
 sorts of romantic stories are told of their adventures ; how they 
 were hunted about with bloodhounds; how Bruce stood single- 
 handed against whole armies, daunting them by his kingly bear- 
 
 and terrible right arm; how they waded streams and lurked 
 in caves, and could never be caught ; how Bruce kept up the 
 spirits of his comrades by reading aloud to them as they crossed 
 great lakes in wretched boats. All these stories are delightfully 
 told by Walter Scott in 'Tales of a Grandfather.' But none of 
 them were written down till after Bruce was dead, and which of 
 them are true and which are only fahles, no one can tell now. 
 
 21. How was it all going to end? As long as Edward lived 
 no one could say who would conquer, he or Bruce. But he 
 was old now, his end was drawing near. He roused himself to 
 make one more effort to realize the great desire of his life, and 
 
 in for Scotland. But before he could set loot in 
 the country, though he was within three miles of it, 
 
 1307. worn out by the fatigues of the journey, he died at 
 Jv at ?j a place called Burgh-qn-the-Sands, on one side of the 
 
 Solway Firth. There he gave his dying commands to 
 .11. ( )ne of them was that his heart should be carried to the 
 Holy Land, where he had been on the ( Jrusade in his young 
 days with Eleanor ; hut. his hones wen- to 1m- wrapped in a bull's 
 hide and carried forward at the head of his army until Scotland 
 was subdued. ih- seems to have thought that the mere sight of 
 his bones would terrify tie- Scotch, whom he had so often 
 conquered. This command, though a harsh and vindictive one, 
 did not seem quite so strange in those days as it does to us. It
 
 ■-v 
 S 
 
 xxvi.] SCOTLAND VICTORIOUS. 263 
 
 the custom then to think a great deal of what became of a 
 man's body after he was dead. Bruce himself afterwards wished 
 his heart to be carried to the Holy Land. When Richard I. 
 died he had ordered his body to be divided into parts, and 
 buried in different places: his heart was carried to the city of 
 Iiouen, which had always been faithful to him, and which he 
 loved ; his body was laid at his father's feet in token of submis- 
 sion and duty; and the " more ignoble parts" were buried among 
 his rebellious subjects at Poitou. So that a man's burial was a 
 kind nf symbol or token of his last feelings and thoughts. 
 Edward, whose dying effort had been to conquer the Scotch, 
 wished his bones still to carry on the work. 
 
 of this was done. They carried his body back 
 from the Solway Sands, and for sixteen Aveeks it layat Waltham 
 
 by the grave of Harold, the last of the old English kin 
 Then it was conveyed to Westminster, and buried near hi 
 father. Ik I >mb is not beautiful, like some of the others ; it 
 
 pulchre hewn out of a rock," and mi it is 
 carve 1 in Latin " This is the hammer of the Scotch people." 
 
 22. Ajb soon as Edward ■ id it seemed as if all bis work 
 
 md fell to pieces. He was succeeded by his son Edward, 
 
 iame who bad been born at Carnarvon Castle, and was the 
 
 jlish Prince of Wales. Edward II. was a poor, weak, 
 
 idle fellow, aot at all like his father, uot at all lit to cope with 
 
 Bruce. He marched a little way into Scotland, hut did nothing 
 
 my importance, and then turned back again into England. 
 
 23. More and more of tie' Scotch nobles and people now 
 gath nil Bruce, and he pressed harder and harder upon 
 tie- English. IIh principal helpers were bis brother Edward, his 
 nephew Randolph, and his friend Lord .lam-- of Douglas. All 
 
 vied wi;h each other in great, deeds, and were con- 
 ring who could gain most favour and glory in the 
 of the king and the nation by their valiant act i and succi 
 the English. At last they had done so much th it the 
 had ie. place of any importance lefl t" them 
 but Stirlinj .and that, v. ely besieged by Stirlin ff 
 
 en. 
 
 24. I'ii" English felt that they tnu t now make a great effort 
 • ■: tli it, t'.r ,d win back their lo I ground. Edward 
 
 II. therefore marched Into Scotland himself, at tie-, lead of 
 
 a great army. It eon i ■■■] of fully 100,000 n, and was 
 
 itiftil and terrible to look upon, with its plendidly-armed 
 knights and horses, and Us counties* banners and p hum
 
 266 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 Bruce had not half the number, but then he was a host in 
 himself. It might be said of him, as Napoleon said when he saw 
 the Duke of Wellington walking up a hill, "There go 20,000 
 men." He had too his brave Randolph and Douglas at his side. 
 
 25. They met near Stirling Castle, by the side of a brook 
 called Bannockburn. Randolph was set to watch against any 
 
 of the English army entering Stirling Castle, which 
 
 1314. they were come to relieve. By some mischance a 
 
 Bannock- ^ roo P °^ English cavalry very nearly made their way 
 
 burn. i' 1 before Randolph perceived them. "See, Randolph," 
 
 said the king, "a rose has fallen from your chaplet." 
 
 Randolph hastened to retrieve his fault; he rushed off with his 
 
 men to stop the English before it was too late. He had but 
 
 foot-soldiers to oppose the English horse, and not half so many 
 
 even of them. Douglas, his friend and rival, saw that he was 
 
 bird pressed, and rode after with his followers to assist him. 
 
 Bui long before theyreached the spot Randolph and his infantry 
 
 had driven off the English, and when Douglas saw the horses, 
 
 many of them riderless, fleeing away, he called on his men to 
 
 stop; for, said he, " Randolph has gained the day; since we were 
 
 not soon enough to help him in the battle, do not let us lessen 
 
 his glory by approaching the Held." This was the true magnanimity 
 
 of a nolile knight. 
 
 26. Every one in Bruce's army seemed to have the heart of a 
 hero, and in spite of all the mighty English horsemen, and the 
 far-famed English archers, the Scotch won a triumphant victory. 
 .\ ■ er before or since have the English been so utterly defeated. 
 The kin.,' tied for his life, and escaped safely to England. Those 
 of the English who would not llee, and there, were a great many 
 oi them, were left dead on the field, or were taken prisoners. 
 
 27. Aiter this great victory Bruce's success was complete. 
 The English could never recover from it, and were scarcely able 
 
 to defend even their own border. The Scotch made 
 1328. inroads into England, and defeated them on their 
 P « aC j . own ground. At lasl a treaty was signed at North- 
 ampton, ainptoii, fully acknowledging the independence of 
 Scotland and her king. This was the very year 
 before Robert Bruce died ; a rich reward to him, and precious 
 fruit of all his toils. He left a glorious name behind him, which 
 is dear, and deserves to be as dear, almost, to the Scotch 
 nation as that of Alfred is to the English.
 
 xxvii.] CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 267 
 
 LECTURE XXVII.-CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 
 
 Edward II. His father's last commands. Piers Gaveston. The Louis 
 Ordainers. The Despensers. The queen. Deposition of Edward. 
 His murder. Edward III. The French wars.. Froissart, The 
 Black Prince. Rattle of Crecy. Calais. 
 
 1. We have seen how Edward II. lost all that his father had 
 gained in Scotland. The rest of his reign was quite of a piece 
 with this. We need not blame him for not obeying 
 that order of his fathei cting his hones, which Edwar ^' II 
 
 had a cruel and unchristian sound ; hut he also dis- 
 obeyed another of his dying commands which he undoubtedly 
 ought to have kept. This was that he should send away a 
 special friend and favourite of hi>. who, as the old king saw, 
 would be likely to give him bad advice and to firing him into 
 trouble. The favourite' was a young Frenchman named Piers 
 G ton, who had been brought up with him, and 
 to whom he was deeply attached, hut whom the 
 English nobles soon began to hate as deeply. It seems only 
 human nature thai they should have done so. Gaveston was 
 quick, brilliant, and frivolous. Be came from Gascony, a part 
 ranee which was noted for its inhabitants being vain and 
 onfidenl ; so much so, indeed, that the terms gasconade, 
 inading, have become English words meaning boasting and 
 the verj 1 thing which is most hateful to a 
 
 I i Englishman. A< rdingly, he soon made hin 
 
 quite dete table to i bem. 
 
 2. Be was very accomplished, very kilf'ul in tournaments and 
 
 in all the things Which make a -how ; he was also very e]i 
 
 and choice iii bis dress. !!■ woo- beautiful flowered shirl . and 
 embroidered girdles, and was extremely good-looking. In all 
 things he seemed to outshine the nobles of the land. Be man 
 
 to win all the prizes at the tournaments, and threw a g I many 
 
 of the English lords off their horses. We can fancy il wa* not 
 very pleasant to them to see themselves ei lip ed in this way by an
 
 2G3 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 upstart foreigner; and if Gaveston had had any sense or modesty- 
 he would have kept more in the background, and not been always 
 showing himself off. 
 
 3. But the king was as foolish as he was himself. He seemed 
 to lay himself out to affront the English nobles. At his corona- 
 tion he put Gaveston above all of them ; he made him carry the 
 crown, and walk next to himself and the queen. Not content 
 with empty honours, he gave him great riches, both in lands and 
 money. He made him Earl of Cornwall, which before that had 
 always been a title belonging to a prince of the royal family, and 
 he married him to his own niece. 
 
 4. As soon as .the parliament met, after the new king had been 
 crowned, the very first thing they did was to demand that Gaves- 
 ton should be banished. Edward was obliged to give in, and 
 indeed took most solemn oaths that he wonld never let him come 
 back. But we know oaths did not count for much at that time ; 
 and in very little more than a year Gaveston was back again, in 
 high feather. Neither he uor the king had learnt any wisdom. 
 The king made as much of him as ever. He, on his part, affronted 
 lie nobles even worse than before. He gave some of them insult- 
 ing nicknames. The king's own cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, 
 who took part with the lords, he called " an old hog." The Earl 
 of Pembroke he called "Joseph the Jew." We can hardly say, 
 in those days, when every one so hated and despised the Jews, 
 which would be thought the worst, to be called a "hog" or a 
 '• Jew." The Kail of Warwick he called " a black dog." 
 
 5. The foolish king thought all this very witty, and fine fun. 
 But the nobles did not think it fun. The Earl of Warwick vowed 
 a terrible vow that some day Gaveston should "feel the black 
 dog's teeth." A more important person still was affronted, the 
 queen herself. Edward was married to Isabella, the daughter of 
 the King of France. She was very beautiful, and indeed was 
 said to lie the most beautiful woman in the world; but there was 
 not much love between her and her hushand even to begin with. 
 She — □ became dJ ! al Ed ward's devotion to his favourite, 
 and never, to the end of his life, did she forgive him. 
 
 6. All this time Edward was constantly in want of money, 
 which of course gave the lords and the country great power over 
 
 him. It was thoroughly well settled now that the 
 
 esis ance. ^ m g ,.,, u ],i g e t no money without the consent of 
 
 parliament, and the parliament would never give him any money 
 
 when he was doing things which offended them. Gaveston had 
 
 to go away before the barons would even come to parliament at
 
 xxvn.] CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 209 
 
 all. Thus we see what good came of Stephen Langton, and the 
 barons' charter, of Simon de Montfort's work, of Humphrey de 
 Bohun's resistance, when lie would " neither go nor hang." There 
 was a bad, or, at least, a weak and foolish king now ; but he could 
 not govern according to his own will, for there was a way of 
 keeping him in order. We begin to see now the difference 
 between a constitutional king, that is, a king who has to rule ac- 
 cording to the settled laws of the nal ion, and an absolute king, who 
 - according to his own will. But poor, foolish Edward could 
 -ee it. He wanted to have all hisownway. The 
 lords were determined to have theirs ; they appointed _,. T ' 
 a sort of committee to govern the country, and took Ordainers. 
 all the power, for a time, out of the king's hands. 
 
 7. The members of this committee or council were called Lords 
 Ordainers, and they made a greal many regulations or ordinances 
 intended to keep the king in order, to make his power less, and 
 the power of the parliament greater. Theking promised to agree 
 to all this, but he could not do without his favourite. There 
 seemed no way of getting rid of him but one ; the lords took up 
 arms, and a civil war began. Gaveston was caught at last, and 
 • nobles whom he had insulted and ridiculed had their 
 revenge. II carried off to Warwick Castle; the Earl of 
 
 Warwick, the " black dog," had his opportunity now of showing 
 his teeth, and Gaveston, without any trial, without any pity, was 
 beheaded. 
 
 - . It might have been thou -lit the king had had a lesson now, 
 and would have tried to please and content the lords and the 
 people. Still more bo, considering the state of things in Scotland, 
 [t was just at tin time that Bruce was making such progress, and 
 back all the fortresses but one, and when Edward was 
 obliged to go to Scotland to try and Bave thai one. Many of the 
 nobles, and above all, bis cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, would not 
 go with him or bring their followers ; and it was, perhaps, partly 
 owing to thai that he wa i Li racefully beaten it Bannock- 
 burn. 
 
 '.i. Nevertheless, it was not long before he set up a new favour- 
 ite. This time it was an Englishman and a nobleman, one Hugh 
 le D r, '• in ail poinl nch anol ber " < i 
 
 • [ual to him in goodliness of personage, f Thc ncw 
 in favour of the king, and in abu ing the lord ." 
 
 ing heaped riches and honours so reckle ly on him 
 and on his fathi i offend all the other uobles. They were 
 
 both a.s and i arrogant and overbearin
 
 270 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Gaveston had been, and it was all the same thing over again. 
 
 The king and his party got the better at one time, and the head 
 of the nobles, Edward's cousin, the Earl of Lancaster, was 
 beheaded; so were some of the others, and one of the most import- 
 ant, Eoger Mortimer, was imprisoned, but contrived to escape. 
 
 10. But things went on no better. Hugh le Despenser and 
 his father contrived to make themselves utterly hated and detested 
 
 by everybody, and from hating the favourites people 
 The queen and soou p asse( j to hating the king. Queen Isabella 
 
 entirely turned against him now, and took part with 
 his enemies. Her brother, the King of France, began to quarrel 
 with Edward, and Isabella went over to France, as was said, in 
 order to makepeace. She soon sent for her eldest son to join 
 her, and then she would not come back. She gave out that she 
 dared not come for fear of Hugh and his father. But, in reality, 
 she had fallen in with that Roger .Mortimer who had escaped 
 from his prison, and she and he were joining together to plot 
 against the king. The barons in England sent messages, telling 
 her that if she could collect about lOoO soldiers, and would bring 
 her young son back to England, they would join her, and make 
 him king instead of his father. Though her brother, the King of 
 France, would not take her part, at li ast openly, she found a very 
 ■_ I friend in Sir John de Hainault, whose niece the young 
 Edward afterwards married, and the Princess Phi lippa turned out 
 ood and faithful a wife as his grandfather's dear Eleanor. 
 Queen Isabella then returned to England, accompanied by her 
 md Sir John de Hainault, and bringing with her an army 
 of foreign soldiers. She publicly proclaimed that she was come 
 to avenge the death of the Earl of Lancaster, and as the enemy 
 of the I tespensers. 
 
 11. The lords and bishops .joined her at once; there was 
 hardly any one to take the king's part. He had to flee; but he 
 and his friend the younger I" Despenser were taken prisoners in 
 Glare aire. Eugh Le De pen er was hung on a gibbet fifty 
 feet high, and wearing a crown of nettles; his father was also 
 captured and pul to death. But what was to be done with the 
 king '( He had no friends left. The people were told shameful 
 and false stories aboul him : that he had deserted his wife; that 
 
 hi idiot and a changeling; it was given out that he was 
 
 rter's son, changed in his in fancy by his nurse. It was 
 
 almost an unheard-of thing to dethrone a king; and perhaps that 
 
 was the reason why this I afloat; since, though 
 
 there were abundance of other charges which could be proved
 
 xxvii.] CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 271 
 
 against him, they might not Lave been sufficient to convince the 
 common people of the lawfulness of deposing him. 
 
 12. Parliament was summoned. To them it was said, and 
 most of this was quite true, that Edward was not fit to govern; 
 that he did not know good from evil; that he followed had 
 counsellors, and would not follow good ones ; that he spent his 
 time in idle amusements, instead of trying to do good to his 
 people; that he had lost a great part of his dominions abroad 
 and in .Scotland; that not only had lie done no good, hut he 
 Mad done barm, by putting to death many of the great men 
 of the country; that he had broken his coronation oath of doing 
 justice to all ; and. lastly, that he was incorrigible, and would 
 nevei do any better. 
 
 13. Nobody wanted to keep a king like this. He was made 
 
 i his kingdom, and to consent to his son Edward being 
 put in his place. If it had stopped here, and he 
 had been well treated in a private position, he would _, 13 ~ 7 - 
 have had no more than he deserved, ami the country deposed^ 
 would b n plainly right in getting rid of a 
 
 king so unlit to be at its head. But only eight months after he 
 cruelly murdered ; it was believed by the orders of the queen 
 and Mortimer, who now took all the power into their 
 own hands, for the new young kin- was but a boy of lS deatl1, 
 fourteen years old. 
 
 1 I. For a time it eemed as if affairs were to go on as badly ;is 
 ever. Mortimer soon .-bowed himself as Insolent and covetous as 
 either Grave ton or Bugh Le Despen ir. No one, of course, 
 could feel .any respect for the queen, who had deserted her bus- 
 I for hi They both fell into greal disfavour with all 
 
 the nation; more especially becau e it was bj them thai the 
 
 itb Robert Bruce wa made, giving up all 
 
 for which Edward I. had fought, and acknowledg- 
 
 bhe entire independence of Scotland, which wa verj galling 
 to th I Inglisb pi ide. 
 
 15. Meanwhile, the yOUHg Ivlwald WHS growing U | >, alel 
 
 ring up verj brave, ambitious, and spirited. When lie was 
 bteen he would oo Ion bmit to be kept in 
 
 subjection by his mother ami her worthle lover, 
 and by a bold anil skilful surpri e he seized on Mortimer m Not- 
 1 "and .i umed i le- government him elf. Mori imer 
 
 \\a. tried, condemned, ami executed ; and Queen I abi Ua pent 
 the i bet 'lay-, m a oi t oi honourable imp] i tonment, in a 
 
 ii luse of her own near London.
 
 272 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY [mot. 
 
 16. "It is a common opinion in England that between two 
 valiant kings there is always one weak in mind and body; and 
 
 most true it is thai this is apparent in the example of the gallant 
 King Edward, of whom 1 am now to speak ; for his lather, King 
 Edward II., was weak, unwise, and cowardly; while his grand- 
 father, called the good King Edward, was wise, brave, very 
 enterprising, and fortunate in war." So writes Froissart, the 
 delightful chronicler, who tells us most about the 
 long reign we are now entering upon, and of whom 
 we have already heard. He was a foreigner, secretary to Philippa 
 of llainault, the wife of Edward III. He lived in England a 
 considerable time, but travelled about also in France and other 
 places, where there were knights and battles. We learn more 
 about "chivalry" from him than from anybody else ; for though 
 he was a priest and a scholar himself, knightly deeds, glory, and 
 fame were the very joy of his soul. The intense delight he takes 
 in telling his stories, his great love for noble acts, his admiration 
 for brave and gallant knights, make his book very charming 
 leading. He took pains to find out the truth as far as he could 
 (though he sometimes made mistakes nevertheless). He evidently 
 found the greatest possible pleasure in writing his book; indeed, 
 he -ays, towards the end of it, that, "through the grace of God," 
 he shall work upon it as long as he lives. "For the more I 
 ur at it, the more it delights me ; just as a gallant knight 
 who loves his profession, the longer he continues in it, so much 
 the more delectable it appears." lie was <pute certain, too, that 
 his bonk would In' a very interesting one; and a favourite, he 
 thinks, with ad good people. Ee says he well knows that when 
 he is dead and gone "this grand and noble history will be in 
 much fashion, and all noble and valiant persons will take pleasure 
 in it." It is about 500 years since this book was written, and 
 his words have so far come true that it is still a very favourite 
 and attractive book ; and we of the nineteenth century can now 
 t as much pleasure in it as the " noble and valiant 
 persons " for whom he wrote it. 
 
 English people generally take pride and delight in reading and 
 
 hearing of the reign of Edward III., because of the famous 
 
 battles in which they beat tic French, and of which Froissart 
 
 ich animated descriptions, that, however much we may hate 
 
 war and battles, we cannot help enjoying these. 
 
 17. But besides the fighting, and tin: glory, ami the gallantry, 
 there wore sore troubles too which came upon England and Europe 
 in this reign. Twice over there was a most dreadful pestilence,
 
 xxvii.] CIVIL WAR AXD FOREIGN WAR. 273 
 
 more dreadful almost than any other of which we hear in history ; 
 but we all think so much more of what makes a fine show, so 
 much more of pride and glory, than of quiet happiness, that in 
 half the histories written of this time, as in Froissart's own, we 
 scarcely find a line or two about this plague, though we find pages 
 and panes about wars and victories. 
 
 18. In the great war with France which Edward carried on 
 the tables are tpiite turned. Instead of Frenchmen wanting to 
 conquer England, and a French prince wanting to be 
 
 king of England, now it is the English who want to War with 
 
 conquer France, and Edward claims to be its king. 
 
 As to his claim, volumes have been written on both sides. It is 
 
 only another proof of what we have seen so often, that in those 
 
 the laws by which princes succeeded to kingdoms were 
 
 led, and when there were two or three different 
 
 claimant-, each of whom seemed to have some right on his side, 
 
 enerally ;, r ot decided by their fighting it out. Edward's 
 
 mother, the beautiful but wicked Isabella, was daughter of 
 
 a king of France, and it was through her that Edward made bis 
 
 claim. 
 
 19. This was the beginning of a war between France and 
 England, which was called the Hundred fears' War; because, 
 though they were nol literally fighting all thai time, there was 
 
 : any lasting or settled peace. England got great glory, but 
 she did nol gel France. Ai the end of thai long war she lost 
 every pari of France she had ever possessed excepl one town, 
 and that she losl some time afterwards. We have learnt to see 
 now that it is much better for us both thai England should be 
 for the English, and France for the French. And it is enough 
 to make tu grieve when we think of the thousands and thousands 
 of brave men (as well as brave hoi e ) who were killed, and of 
 the many more thousands of women whose hearts were broken 
 or lives mad'' bitter by these famous war-. But when wears 
 I . Hi, we half forget to think of that. 
 
 20. lii- grand hero of this time, the very crown and (lower 
 of cL va-i the young Prince of Wales, Edward III.' - : 
 ■on. His name was al o Edward, though he i 
 
 nearly a] called the Flack Prince. Froi art, The Binck 
 
 however, never calls him so; and no one knows nnce - 
 
 ctly how he got that title, whether from wearing black 
 
 armour oi from his terrible deed . Before I ; battle hi* 
 
 d him in black armour, bu tiol likely he often 
 
 wore it. Much more probably he nerally clothed in rich 
 
 T
 
 274 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and beautiful colours. He never lived to be king of England, 
 and was buried at Canterbury Cathedral. There his tomb, with 
 his likeness on it, may be seen to this day. It is faded now, 
 after these 500 years, but when it was new it was glowing with 
 colours. On the armour may still be seen marks of the gilding 
 with which it was covered ; above it hangs his helmet, with the 
 gilded leopard for its crest ; his velvet coat, which was embroi- 
 dered with blue and scarlet; his shield, emblazoned with the 
 arms of England and of France. He must have been a splendid 
 sight to see. 
 
 21. He was very young, only sixteen years old, when he first 
 fought the French. He had only been made a knight about a 
 month. He had not yet " won his spurs ;" that is, he had not 
 yet done anything to distinguish himself as a knight, and to 
 make him worthy of the gilded spurs which knights wore. He 
 
 first fought in the famous battle of Crecy, not very 
 
 1346. in . £ rom Abbeville, in France. It is sometimes said 
 
 Crecy" that ^°g er Bacon's gunpowder came into use now, 
 
 and that cannon were first used in this battle, but 
 
 Froissart says nothing about it. There is no doubt, however, that 
 
 it began to be employed about this time. 
 
 22. Froissart says that in this battle the King of England 
 had not more than an eighth part of* the forces which the King 
 of France had, but they were, fine soldiers, and excellently dis- 
 ciplined. There were more than 5000 of the far-famed English 
 archers. The King of France, however, had 15,000 Genoese with 
 their cross-bows, on whom he depended a great deal, besides 
 immense numbers of Frenchmen, all eager for the fight. Hut 
 Froissart tells us that "no man, unless he had been present, 
 can describe truly the confusion of that day, especially the bad 
 management and disorder of the French, whose troops were out 
 of number." 
 
 Before the battle began Edward "rode at a foot's pace 
 through all the ranks, encouraging the army, and entreating that 
 they would guard his honour, and defend his right; so sweetly 
 and with such a cheerful countenance did he speak that all who 
 had been before dispirited were directly comforted by hearing him." 
 
 23. The young Prince of Wales, surrounded by many gallant 
 knights, had command of the first battalion. When all were duly 
 arranged, the English army " seated themselves on the ground, 
 with°their helmets and bows before them, that they might be 
 the fresher when their enemies should arrive." The king over- 
 looked all from a little hill near.
 
 xxvn.] CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 275 
 
 24. Before long the great and tumultuous French army 
 approached, longing for the battle, hut obeying no commands, 
 and keeping no order. " As soon as the King of France came in 
 sight of the English his blood began to boil," and he ordered the 
 Genoese bowmen forward. " During this time," says Froissart, 
 " a heavy rain fell, accompanied by thunder, and a very terrible 
 eclipse of the sun ; and before this rain a great flight of crows 
 hovered in the air, over all those battalions, making a loud noise. 
 Shortly afterwards it cleared up, and the sun shone very bright, 
 but the French had it in their faces, and the English in their 
 backs." 
 
 25. Now came the meeting of the impulsive, excitable Italians 
 with the dogged, undemonstrative English. "When the Genoese 
 
 jembled together, and began to approach, they made a 
 great Leap and cry to abash the Englishmen, but they stood still 
 and Btirred not for all that. Then the Genoese a second time 
 made another leap and a fell cry, and stepped forward a little, 
 and the Englishmen removed not one foot; thirdly, again they 
 leaped and cried, and went, forth till they came within shol ; 
 then they Bhot fiercely with their cross-bows. Then the English 
 arch' ' iped forth one pace, and let their arrows fly so hotly 
 and bo thick that it Beemed snow. When the Genoese felt the 
 arrows piercing through beads, arms, and breasts, many of them 
 down their ci ws, and did cut their strings, and returned 
 
 discomfited. . . . In the English army there were some Cornish 
 and Welshmen on foot, who had armed themselves with large 
 knives; these, advancing through the ranks of the men-at-arms 
 and archers, who made, way for them, came upon the French 
 when they were in this danger, and, falling upon earls, barons, 
 knights, and Bquire , slew many." 
 
 26. One of the allies of the French, who fought very bravely 
 on their side, was the Mind King of Bohemia. When be beard 
 
 thai the order for the battle was given, be said to bis attendants, 
 
 "« Gentlemen, you are all my people, my friends, and brethren at 
 v ; therefore, as i am blind, I request of yon to lead 
 me bo far into the engagement that I may strike one Btrokewitb 
 my sword.' The knights replied that they would directly lead 
 him forward ; and in order that they might, not lose him in the 
 crowd, they fa tened all the rem-, of their horses together, and 
 
 put the king at, their bead, that he might gratify his wish, and 
 
 advanced towards the enemy. . . . The king rode in a g the 
 
 enemy and made good use "f his sword, for he and his com- 
 panions fought most gallantly. They advanced so far that tie. 
 
 T 2
 
 27G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 were all slain, and on the morrow they were found on the ground 
 with their horses all tied together." 
 
 27. In the thick of the fight the battalion of the Prince of 
 Wales was hard pressed and in great danger. A knight rode off 
 in all haste to the king to entreat him for assistance. "The 
 king replied, ' Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded 
 that he cannot support himself]' 'Nothing of the sort, thank 
 God,' rejoined the knight, 'but he is in so hot an engagement 
 that he has great need of your help.' The king answered, ' Now, 
 Sir Thomas, return hack to those that sent you, and tell them 
 from me not to send again for me this day, or expect that I 
 shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life; 
 and say that I command them to let the hoy win his spurs; for 
 I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory and honour 
 of this day shall be given to him, and to those into whose care 
 I have entrusted him.' The knight returned to his lords and 
 related the king's answer, which mightily encouraged them, and 
 made them repent they had ever sent such a message." 
 
 28. At last the battle ended ; the French king had to flee, and 
 his huge army was broken to pieces. When Edward saw his 
 nohle young son return to him victorious he " embraced him in 
 his arms and kissed him, saying, ' Sweei son, God give you good 
 perseverance; you are my sou, for most loyally have you ac- 
 quitted yourself this day; you are worthy to be a sovereign.' 
 The prince bowed down very Low and humbled himself, giving 
 all honour to the king his father." 
 
 Some people think that it was from the hrave, blind King of 
 Bohemia that the Black Prince took the famous badge of the 
 three ostrich feathers, and the motto " [ch dien," which are still 
 the crest and motto of the Prince <,f Wales. This is not very 
 clear ; nor is any one quite sure how he came by them, nor what 
 they mean. Welsh people say "Ich Dien" are Welsh word-'; 
 l.m most people think they axe German, and that the King of 
 Bohemia really used them. If they are German, those two 
 w<iid> mean " I serve." h'ather a strange motto for a victorious 
 prince ! One, wonders whether in the hour of triumph he had a 
 thought of Him who come not to be ministered unto, but to 
 minister; if he began to feel, what the noblest spirits ever feel, 
 that all great gifts and glory, high place, talents, and wealth are 
 only theirs that they may "serve;" serve their brothers who 
 have them not. We shall see, as we go on, how he acted on 
 his motto, and was "lowly and serviceable," after his greatest 
 triumph.
 
 xxvn.] CIVIL WAR AND FOREIGN WAR. 277 
 
 29. After the victory of Crecy the King of England at once laid 
 sieg'' to < Jalais. It was bravely defended, but at length was forced 
 by famine to surrender. Edward was very indignant 
 with the inhabitants for their obstinate resistance, s ^ e ? e . of 
 
 C'lliis 
 
 and demanded that they should submit themselves 
 
 lately to his will, without making any terms or conditions 
 at all. Even his own barons and knights entreated him to be 
 Less harsh than this, and he at last consented to pardon all the 
 if six of the principal citizens would come to him "with 
 baie head- and feet, with ropes round their necks, and the keys 
 of the town and castle in their hands." These six were to be 
 at his absolute disposal When the inhabitants of the town 
 
 t sived information of the king's decision it caused "the 
 
 Lamentations and despair, so that the hardest heart 
 would have had compassion on them." But before long "'the 
 most wealthy citizen of the town, by name Eustace 
 de St. Pierre, rose up and said. f Gentlemen, both , The . slx 
 high and Low, it would lie a very great pity to suffer 
 Ho many people to die through (amine if any means could 1)0. 
 found to prevent it ; and it would be highly meritorious in the 
 of our Saviour if such misery could be averted. I have 
 such faith and tru-t iii finding grace before < Jod, if I die to save 
 my townsmen, that I name myself as hr-t of the six.' When 
 bad done speaking they all rose up and almost worshipped 
 him; m ■ I themselves at his feet with tears and groans, 
 
 The brave and devoted man Boon found companions ; one alter 
 another stood forth to offer themselves; and when the six were 
 completed they were led before Edward, who, as Froissart tells 
 I them with angry looks," and ordered their heads to be 
 struck off. All his attendant-, and especially one of bis bravest 
 knights, sir Walter Manny, entreated linn to be more merciful, 
 and not to tarnish bis noble reputation by such a cruel act. But 
 it was all in vain, till the Queen Philippa, who had come from 
 England to visit her husband, fell on her knees before him, and 
 said, "with !• u . '.\ii. gentle sir, since I crossed the sea with 
 • danger to see you I have never asked you one favour; 
 now I most hurobl] ift, for the - ike of the Son of the 
 
 blessed Mary, and for your love to me, that you will be merciful 
 to these dx men.' 'I he king locked at her for some time in 
 silence, and then -aid, 'Ah, lady. I wish you had been any- 
 where else than here ; you have entreated in such a manner that 
 I onol refuse you ; I then fore give them to you to do as you 
 please with them.' The queen conducted thi lx citizens to hex
 
 278 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 apartments, and had the halters taken from their necks ; after 
 which she new clothed them, and served them with a plentiful 
 dinner; she then presented each with six nobles, and had them 
 escorted out of the camp in safety." 
 
 30. But though the six citizens were thus kindly treated by 
 the queen, and the rest of the inhabitants escaped with their 
 lives, they were not allowed to remain in the conquered city. All 
 the knights and lords were put in prison, and the rest of the 
 inhabitants were compelled to leave their homes and all they 
 possessed, for King Edward determined to repeople the town with 
 English alone. So cruel was war in those days. Three hundred 
 years after this, and when Calais had been long restored to the 
 French, an English traveller tells us how, passing through the 
 city, he went to see " the reliques of our former dominion there," 
 and was shown on the front of an ancient dwelling these words 
 in English, engraven on stone, God save the king. 
 
 Note to Nottingham Castle, p. "271 : The secret stair communicating 
 with an underuniund road to Nottingham Castle was discovered not many 
 years ago, and is now visible.
 
 X xv in.] GLORY AND SORROW. 279 
 
 LECTURE XXVIII.-GLORY AND SORROW. 
 
 The Battle of Poitiers. The Black Death. The serfs. Loss of Aquitaine. 
 The Black Prince and the parliament. Death of the prince. 
 
 1. As we saw, the French and the Scotch had become friends 
 and allies al the time when England was against them both; so 
 now that the wai with France was going on, and Edward and 
 his son were abroad, the Scotch took the opportunity of invading 
 land in the north. This time, however, they got the worst 
 of it : they were d<-i'<-at<*<l in battle near a place called Nevil's 
 I . ami their king, David, was made prisoner and kept in 
 England for nine years. Froissart says that Queen Philippa 
 headed the English army, but this is not believed now, for no 
 old English writer says anything about it. 
 
 ■_- The English now began to feel quite unconquerable. Per- 
 haps it was ai this time they first took up the idea, which we 
 may have often heard old men repeat, that " one Englishman 
 
 could beal ten Fn acumen," They grew more and more f 1 of 
 
 righting, and of the rich plunder they brought home: "the gold 
 and silver plate, fair jewels, and trunks Btuflfed full of valuables." 
 Ten ifter the battle of (Jrecy there was another great 
 
 battle, as famous as that one, fought near Poitiers, 
 
 in the more southern part id' Kr;mee. The Black * , 
 
 , . , , ' Battlo of 
 
 Prince, who, though still young, was a grown man p itiers. 
 now, was at the head of the English ; and the French 
 king, John, at the head of bis own troops. This time the army 
 of the Black Prince consisted of only 8000 men, while the 
 French king had mure than 60,000. The prince encouraged his 
 men with bi ive bu1 not boastful word . " Now, sirs," he said, 
 "though we be bul a mall company, in regard to the puissance 
 of our enemie . lei as aol be aba bed therefore; for the rictory 
 in th qoI in the multitude of people, bat where God will send it. 
 
 It it fortune that the day I ar . we hall be the mosl honoured 
 
 people in the world; and if we die in our right quarrel, I have 
 the king, my father, and brethren, and al ye have good friends
 
 280 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and kinsmen ; these shall revenge us. Therefore, sirs, for God's 
 Bake, I require you to do your duties this day; for if God he 
 pleased, and St. ( reorge, this day ye shall see me a good knight." 
 
 3. The small English furce was so skilfully posted, and so 
 well managed, that once more the French Avere utterly defeated, 
 and their king, who had fought very valiantly, was made prisoner. 
 It was now that the Black Prince showed his generous spirit, 
 his courtesy and modesty. "When evening was come," writes 
 Froissart, "the Prince of Wales gave a supper in his pavilion 
 to the King of France, and to the greater part of the princes 
 and harons who were prisoners. . . . The prince himself served 
 the king's tahle, as well as the others, with every mark of 
 humility, and would not sit down at it, in spite of all his 
 entreaties for him so to do, saying that 'he was not worthy of 
 such an honour, nor did it appertain to him to seat himself at the 
 table of so great a king, or of so valianl a man as he had shown 
 himself by his actions that daw' lie added also with a noble air, 
 ' Dear sir, do not make a poor meal because the Almighty God 
 has not gratified your wishes in the event of this day; for be 
 assured that my lord and father will show you every honour and 
 friendship in his power, and will arrange your ransom so reason- 
 that you will henceforward always remain friends. In my 
 
 opinion you have cause to lie glad that the success of this battle 
 did not turn out as you desired, tor you have this day acquired 
 Buch high renown for prowess that you have surpassed all the 
 
 knightfl on your side. 1 do not, dear sir, say this to flatter 
 v .it. tor all those of our side who have seen ami observed the 
 
 08 of each party have unanimously allowed this to be your 
 «iue. and decree you the prize and garland lor it.' At the end of 
 this speech there were murmurs of praise heard from every one, 
 ami the French said tin- prime had spoken nobly and truly, and 
 thai le- would he oneof the most gallant princes in Christendom 
 if God should grant him life to pursue his career of glory." 
 
 4. Three or four years alter this, when both countries were 
 quite worn out with fighting, and France was almost ruined by 
 her own armies, ami the English armies for ever ravaging and 
 devouring everything, a peace was made. The French promised 
 3,000,000 of gold crowns ■■>-■ ■< ransom for their king, who was 
 then allowed to go back to bis country ; but as he cotdd not 
 
 •ct the promised sum, he afterwards honestly returned to 
 
 England, He died in the Savoy Palace in London, which had 
 
 been fixed upon as his residence while in captivity. Edward 
 
 up his claim to be King of France; but he kept the duchy
 
 xxvin.] GLORY AND SORROW. 2S1 
 
 of Aquitaine, and the town of Calais ; and it was agreed that he 
 was no longer to be a vassal under the King of France for these 
 French possessions, as lie and his lathers had always been before, 
 but to be an independent sovereign over them. The Black Prince 
 took up bis abode in Bordeaux, to rule over these French pro- 
 vinces. 
 
 5. Everybody is very much interested about the battles of 
 y ami Poitiers, but very few histories tell us much about 
 
 what happened in the ten years "which came between them; just 
 : the history of England was the history of kings, princes, 
 and soldiers, and not of any other people. But it was during 
 that time that the first of those terrible pestilences 
 came, which were in reality far more important than DeatlT 
 either of those famous fights. A fewthousand men 
 were killed in the battles ; but without any fighting at all there 
 were killed by this awful disease more than 2,000,000 people 
 in England alone. 
 
 6. Though we know very little about it, we can imagine a 
 deal- deal of the terror, and misery, and pain, and 
 
 the long Borrow afterwards. The sickness was bo virulent that 
 few who were attacked by it lived more than three 'lays ; it was 
 called by the dreadful name of the Black Death, li is bo awful 
 thai we can hardly realize it. Let us try to think what it 
 would be it' in every bouse only one person died ; what wailing 
 and wo.- there would arise. Bui it was worse than that. It 
 there were six people in a family, three of those would have 
 die.], if then- were uiH) people living in a village, l'»<» of them 
 
 Would have died. < )f course it was not lit. 'rally that half the 
 
 ; le in every bouse died ; it is more likely thai in one bouse 
 
 die, md in another all; but, taking all together, 
 
 there seems hardly any doubt thai half the people of England 
 
 died of this frightful plague; in some places more, and in some 
 
 7. More than two thirds of the clergymen in Norfolk and in 
 Yorkshire died, io thai il wai almost impoa ible to get anyone 
 
 1 the BTvice; and the bishops were obliged to make quite 
 your of parishes, or the churches must have been 
 
 shut up. In the town of ifarmouth, which was a flouri bing 
 fadiing town then. .•,. [\ j s now, more than 7000 people were buried 
 in one j that mosi of the houses were left empty and 
 
 late, and gradually fell into decay. Nearly 200 yean aftei 
 wards there were still gardens and hare upaces where there had 
 formerly been houses full of happy people.
 
 282 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 S. At the other side of England it was jnst as bad. In 
 Bristol so many people died that there -were hardly enough left 
 alive to bury them. The principal streets were so forlorn and 
 deserted that the grass grew several inches high in them. In 
 smaller places, villages and hamlets, sometimes every house was 
 left empty, all those who dwelt in them 1 icing dead. 
 
 9. It was most terrible of all in London. One of the knights 
 whom Froissart tells us about, Sir Walter Manny, gave a large 
 piece of laud near to Smithfield on purpose to bury those who 
 died, and in one year 50,000 people were buried there. But this 
 new cemetery was not used till all the other churchyards were 
 overflowing, and most likely more than 100,000 people died of 
 This plague in London, small as it was then compared with what 
 it is now. That cemetery of Sir Walter Manny's, with the 
 chapel that stood in it, was afterwards given by him as a place 
 for the monks of the Charterhouse, and it is there that the 
 school and college (or alms-house) of the Charterhouse now 
 stand. 
 
 10. The Black Death was perhaps the most fearful plague 
 that ever came to England, or to Europe, for it raged in Italy, 
 Germany, and France quite as fiercely as it did here ; but there 
 have been other very terrible ones since, of which we shall have 
 to hear. How is it that we never hear of such plagues now % 
 for even the worst visitations of cholera which have come in 
 modern times have been nothing at all like this. A plague 
 which carried oil' half the people of a country is now quite un- 
 heard of. 
 
 In those days people knew nothing at all about the laws of 
 health. Their towns were dirty, crowded, and undrained. They 
 did not know how to prevent infection from coming, nor how to 
 check it when it came. They cared little or nothing for pure air 
 or pure water. The windows were small, the houses dark, and 
 the streets narrow. The doctors would often try to cure their 
 patients by consulting the stars, or by making magical images. 
 The clergy thought that the pestilence was sent as a judgment 
 for sins, and led the miserable people about singing woeful 
 litanies, and barefooted, 
 
 " Pressing the stones with feet unused and soft, 
 And bearing images of saints aloft," 
 
 in hopes of winning pardon from an angry God. 
 
 It was not until quite lately that people began to find out that 
 care and cleanliness — clean houses, clean water, clean streets, clean
 
 xxviii.] GLORY AND SORROW. 2S3 
 
 air, and clean bodies — are the means for keeping off these awful 
 scourges. "When every body knows and believes that, then, 
 most likely, many other diseases, as fevers and cholera, will die 
 away, and we, or rather those who come after us, will know no 
 more about them than we know about the plague. 
 
 11. After the pestilence had passed away there was, of course, 
 a great difference in the state of the country, and above all in 
 the condition of the labouring men. A change had 
 
 indeed been going on for some time, and a change labour g rs 
 which, in a certain way, was much for the better. 
 This was, that a good many of the lowest class, the villeins and 
 tin- serfs, had been gradually rising into freemen. Though it 
 had long ceased to be a common practice for a rich man to sell 
 his serfs, still most of the poor up till about this time were 
 looked on as part of the estate, and were obliged to live and 
 work always on the land where they were born j they could not 
 wander about and change their masters and occupations as they 
 Magna Charta, which had done so much for all the 
 other people of the land, had been of very little help to these 
 poor labourers. The landlords even strongly objected to their 
 putting their children to school. If they did that, and 
 a little Berf boy proved to be clever, and got on with his 
 learning, he might in time become a clergyman, and then he 
 dd be free. That was almost the only chance lie would have 
 of getting on in the world, and Borne, perhaps many, did really 
 rise in this way. 
 
 12. But all tlii j was changing oow. Mure and more of the 
 
 buying their liberty and being set free. Edward III. 
 
 ami his lords and knights wanted a good deal of money for 
 
 their wan, and sou:.' of it they got in this way. Now, too, it, 
 
 iually becoming customary, instead of a landlord giving 
 
 a poor man a piece of land and a cottage, on condition of bis 
 
 doing work for him, for the peasant to pay rent in money for 
 
 his b i •■ i ii< 1 land, and the master to hire labourers to work on 
 
 own home-farm. This is how owners of land do now, and 
 
 more liberty and i pei hap better i'<\- hold pari ie . 
 
 13. Moreover, there was a new sort, of work now to be done 
 in which these poor workmen could be irery useful, and which 
 
 help to them in gaining their liberty. 
 This w.i^ the manufacture of cloth. England had cloth 
 long been noted for its fine wool, but it. n ed to be ea nfS ' 
 all exported oul of the country, principally to the Netherlands, 
 because the English, as Fuller tells us, "knew do more what, to
 
 284 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.k t. 
 
 do with their wool than the sheep that wear it, as to any arti- 
 ficial and curious drapery." in Edward III. 'a time this was 
 altered. He invited a great many uf the clever Flemish weavers 
 to come over to England, and teach the English to mala- line 
 and beautiful cloth. This trade was very welcome to the Eng- 
 lish, and enriched them very much. 
 
 " Happy the yeoman's house into which one of these Dutch- 
 men did enter, bringing industry and wealth along with them. 
 Such who came in strangers among them soon after went out 
 bridegrooms, and returned son-in-laws, having married the 
 daughters of their landlords. Yea, those yeomen, in whose houses 
 they dwelt, soon proceeded gentlemen, gaining great estates." 
 This has ever since lieen one of the great trades of England. 
 
 14. AVhen the Flemish weavers sot up their looms and taught 
 the English to weave doth, of course they wanted workmen. 
 Many serfs escaped from their masters, came to Norwich and 
 other towns, and learnt to weave; and if they could manage 
 to stay there a year and a day without being caught they were 
 free, and the masters could never make them go back again. 
 Thus there were not nearly as many serfs as there used to be, 
 and the masters had often to hire free labourers for money, to 
 plough and sow for them. 
 
 15. But after the Black Heath there were very few labourers 
 left, and then the same thing happened winch always will 
 happen when work is plentiful and men are scarce. The men 
 asked for higher wages, but the masters did not want to pay 
 
 them. The king's council interfered, and made a law 
 Statutes of t j )at ^ t]l(; p^,,,,,,.,.,.., AV( . re to work tor their masters 
 1 3. b o u. r 6 r s 
 
 for the very same wages that they used to have before 
 
 the plague. Masters were also forbidden to pay any higher 
 wages than they used to pay then. If the men disobeyed they 
 were to be put in prison. Net long afterwards a still more cruel 
 punishment was ordered. If any of the labourers went away, 
 and the master could catch them, he was to burn the letter ¥, for 
 fugitive, into their foreheads with a hot iron. 
 
 16. But all would not avail ; the people hail begun to learn 
 their value and their power; they joined together, and stood by 
 each other, refusing to take the low wages ; and those who had 
 the means helping those who had not. Kulers know now that 
 it is no use to make laws saying what wages men are to take or 
 masters are to give; they must settle that between themselves; 
 and all the law does is to hinder either party from violence or 
 injury to the other. But in those days rulers had not yet dis-
 
 xxviii.] GLORY AND SORROW. 285 
 
 covered this ; they had to learn it by experience, and by very 
 hard experience. Fresh and fresh laws were made to bind down 
 the labourers ; but they were determined to be free. We shall 
 see the end of this great dispute farther on. 
 
 1 7. After the Battle of Poitiers, and when the Prince of "Wales 
 was established at Bordeaux, it is sad and disappointing to find 
 thai things went on very ill. Perhaps his great 
 Success had turned his head. Instead of being The Black 
 modest and courteous, as he was before, he became tlie S0Vi ^ 
 proud and arrogant, and so did the English who were 
 with him He ruled Aquitaine very badly. Froissart says that 
 he himself " witnessed the great haughtiness of the English, who 
 are affable to no other nation than their own ;" they said of the 
 gentleman of Gaseony and Aquitaine "that they were neither on 
 a level with them nor worthy of their society, which made the 
 G tv indignant." We may fancy how the Gascons 
 
 liked it, remembering how vain and boastful they were by 
 nature. 
 
 1 3. The Black Prince also went to Spain, and fought for a 
 very cruel king there. Helost hi* health; lie lost his popularity. 
 He even became, lor a time, very cruel himself, lie 7n 
 
 I and took the town of Limoges in France, 
 and treated it even more harsldy than his father would have 
 . to treal Calais. II'- permitted, and even encouraged, a 
 
 ■ barbarous ma of the inhabitants; so barbarous that 
 I 'there was not that day m the city of Limoges 
 any hear! -■> hardened, or that had any sense of religion, who did 
 not deeply bewail the unfortunate events passing before their 
 
 . r upwards of 3000 men, women, and children were put, 
 to death thai day. God have mercy on their souls I for they 
 were veritable martyrs." 
 
 19. Almost all the | pie of Aquitaine and Gaseony rebelled 
 
 against him, and went over to the King of France, He came 
 
 . ery ill indeed, and for four years hardly ;mv 
 
 thing was heard of him. 'I hi eems a sad and disastrous ending 
 life i nit 1" In illiantly ; hut, just before he died he 
 
 came forth once more to help his countrymen, ami to win back 
 then- and our love and admiral ion. 
 
 20, The government of England had been going on very badly 
 of lite. Edward III. was growing old, and the dear, good 
 Queen Philippa wa dead. Edward took up with 
 
 another lady, named Alice Perron, who became hi- Discontent 
 
 ■ favourite, and did many things which offended n " B an
 
 2S6 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and disgusted the nation. One of the king's sons, named John, 
 got most of the real power into his hands. Edward III., unfor- 
 tunately for England, had many children, some of whose figures 
 stand round his tomb in Westminster Abbey, on which his own 
 beautiful image, with the flowing hair and noble face, reposes. 
 The descendants of these childien quarrelled and fought for 
 the kingdom of England through more than 100 years. The 
 third son, John, was born at Ghent, in Flanders, and so was 
 called John of Ghent, or Gaunt, as it used to be written then. 
 He married the daughter and heiress of the Duke of Lancaster, 
 great-niece of that Earl of Lancaster whom Gaveston had called 
 " an old hog ; " so he gained her titles and estates, and became 
 Duke of Lancaster. Though he was a clever and well-educated 
 man he did not rule Avell ; he took no pains to serve either the 
 clergy or the people ; the government was very wasteful, and 
 only the courtiers were pleased. The wars he undertook were 
 very expensive and very inglorious ; he took a large army to 
 France, which won no victories, but was nearly starved and 
 ruined. The ministers whom he appointed to manage matters in 
 England were altogether unworthy of trust; every one was dis- 
 contented and uneasy. 
 
 21. It was not the barons now who stood forth against the 
 tyranny, but the House of Commons, win; were assembled in 
 
 what was afterwards called the "Good Parliament." 
 
 1376. Hitherto the Commons had never done much but 
 
 ^"h vote for the taxis if tiny approved them, and present 
 
 Black petitions against grievances ; they had not attempted 
 
 Prince. to meddle with the government. Once indeed, when 
 
 Edward III. had attempted to consult them, they 
 
 would not give any advice, very modestly saying that they were 
 
 " too ignorant and simple " to form an opinion on such great 
 
 matters. Now, however, things were so bad that something 
 
 must assuredly be done against John of Gaunt and his ministers, 
 
 and the king's favourite Alice; they declared that they would 
 
 have things reformed. 
 
 22. But where were they to look for a leader — a leader brave 
 and great enough to stand against the king, and the Duke of 
 Lancaster, and the government] Now was the time when the 
 Black Prince came out again from his retirement, like the evening 
 sun from behind the storm-clouds at Crecy. He had been living 
 in the country, at Berkhampstead, very ill ; often falling into 
 fainting fits, which looked like death ; but now that he saw his 
 country's need he came forth from his quiet retreat, and was
 
 xxvin .] GLORY AND SORROW. 2S7 
 
 carried to London. He had a palace of his own in the city close 
 to where the Monument now stands, but that was too far from 
 the parliament, which met in the chapter-house of Westminster 
 Abbey. He was brought to the royal palace at Westminster, so 
 that he might be carried from his sick bed to the parliament. 
 
 23. When the Commons saw him, and knew that he was come 
 to take their part, to stand up for freedom and justice, their 
 spirit and the spirit of the whole nation rose. The Commons 
 threw away their humility, and stood out boldly; they made 
 'their complaints, and for that time they won their victory. 
 John of Gaunt had to give way, and even to leave the council 
 altogether. Alice Perrers also was banished, and the worst of 
 the king's ministers d'-posed from their places. ' 
 
 2-t. This great and patriotic effort was the end of the Black 
 Prince. It used op his List strength, and he died in the palace 
 at Westminster. When it was known that he was 
 
 ■ now and consternation were inexpress- Death of 
 
 ible. Even hisenemies grieved for him. The King 
 
 of Franc roof that King John whom he had made prisoner 
 
 at Pi had Bpecial prayers and services said for him in the 
 
 lovely Sainte Chapelle al Paris. Bui his own friends and rela- 
 
 vii country, could nol be comforted at all. His 
 
 • fcher never recovered from it, and died the nexl year. 
 
 old fellow- soldiers was bo heart-broken that he 
 
 ike any f( od, and died in a few days of grief and 
 
 . a i. m. And the whole English nation mourned as it has, 
 perhaps, n< urned before or since.
 
 Css LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect 
 
 LECTURE XXIX.-MEDLEVAL ENGLAND. 
 
 The English people 500 years ago. The language. The writers. The 
 
 "friars. The clergy. 
 
 1. Notwithstanding all his victories, we have seen that Edward 
 III. could not succeed in becoming King of France, hut had to 
 be contented, as well he might, with being King of England. 
 Let us now Learn something more of what England was at that 
 time. The Americans have a saying that "it takes all sorts to 
 make a nation." We will in the next two lectures find out what 
 we can about some "f the, "sorts" who made up the English 
 nation 500 years ago, — about the, knights and squires, the coun- 
 try gentlemen, the clergymen, the ladies, the, servants, the ] r 
 
 p .pie, — and see if they were at all like the same class of people 
 now; and, again, about some people of whom we do not see 
 much in England at, present, but of whom there were plenty in 
 those days — the monks and nuns, and the friars. We will try 
 and see how they Jived, what they liked, what they believed, 
 and what they thought. 
 
 2. One great change had already taken place. Hitherto 
 almost all the books we have had to read, to learn about the 
 
 history of our country, were written in Latin; but 
 
 The Ian- (],,. ] ] <s which we must read to ham its condition 
 
 guage ' at this time were written in English. Itisveryold- 
 
 f,,dii sd English ; the spelling is different from our spelling, 
 
 and there are a good many words here and there which we do 
 ii »1 use now. But -till Li IS English, and if we take, a little 
 trouble we soon get to read it quite easily. If we compare it 
 w ith the old English before the Norman Conquest we see the 
 change which was mentioned some time, ago ; we see many 
 beautiful words which are not in the old language, and which 
 are a great improvement to it ; but the whole substance of the 
 language is still that of our ..Id German forefathers. 
 
 3. After the Norman Conquest the king and the upper classes 
 all spoke French, and it is very strange to think that all the
 
 xxix.] MEDLEY AL ENGLAND. 289 
 
 school-children even were taught in French, which must have 
 made learning very up-hill work to them. A little before this 
 time it had become still more fashionable to talk French rather 
 than English, and those who wanted to appear " genteel" always 
 tried to do so, though they spoke very queer French sometimes. 
 
 4. But soon after this one John Cornewaile, a schoolmaster, 
 had the bright idea that children would get on with their lessons 
 better if they learnt in their own language; and other school- 
 mastexe catching the thought from him, in about thirty years all 
 was changed, and in every grammar-school they were taught in 
 English, as they are now, and Learnt French as a foreign language. 
 Just about the same time the lawyers were made to talk English 
 in the law-courts. Now, too, the fine lords and ladies at court, 
 the princes and princesses, kings and queens, began to talk 
 Euglish, and to read English books. An English knight, Sir 
 John Mandeviile, who was a great traveller, and wrote a very 
 amusing book in French full of his adventures and the wonder- 
 ful things he saw or heard of, afterwards translated it into 
 English, thai every man of the nation, "lords and knights, and 
 
 r noble and worthy men," might understand it. Thus the 
 distinction between the conquerors and the conquered dis- 
 appeared, and in this sens.' at leasl we may say that the 
 vanquished English overcame the victorious French. 
 
 5. The writers from whom we Irani most about the manners 
 and thoughts of tie people at thai time wore not historians, 
 writing histories, but poete, writing either to instruct 
 
 or to amuse the people amongst whom they lived. 
 One of them wag B poor man, though a scholar, and he wrote for 
 •pie. Two others were gentlemen Living near the court, 
 and writing sometimes for the king or princes and princesses. 
 Naturally, therefore, the books are very differenl ; but they all 
 
 • • in many points, The writers all saw the same tilings, 
 
 and described them truthfully in their different ways; they were 
 all keen, and elever, and clear-eyed. 
 
 6. The |ir-t of them was Called William, ami though his 
 
 surname is thoughl to have been Langlande, no one is quite .sure 
 what, it was. Perhaps be bad tone at all: for in . 
 
 . , , iii ir William 
 
 rather looked on as a mark ol a L ane i an( i 
 gentleman to bave a surname. Poor men generally 
 only bad a kiin I of nickname, or were called after their tradi a 
 Tyler, or Baker, or Butcher. He belonged in some way to the 
 Church, for he had a shaven crown; bul he had a wife called 
 Kit, and a daughb i called I lalote * He e< du to bave caned his 
 
 u
 
 290 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 living, and a very poor one, by singing hymns at rich men's funerals. 
 This was not a cheerful occupation, and he had a very melancholy 
 spirit. His long poem, "which is called the ' Vision of Piers the 
 Ploughman,' is mostly very sad, and tells us a great deal about 
 the evils of the times, and the sins of all classes of people. This 
 book has hardly any of the new foreign words in it ; the lower 
 people did not use or understand them yet ; it was written in 
 what we may call a rougher language, powerful but not elegant. 
 
 7. The other principal writer was named Geoffrey Chaucer, 
 and is called the father of English poetry. Some people think 
 
 his father was a gentleman, and others that he was a 
 Geoffrey tradesman ; but at any rate he was very prosperous 
 
 and well-to-do. Geoffrey had a busy, stirring life. 
 He soon got offices in the court, and was thought a great deal of 
 by some of the princes, especially by John of Gaunt. He was 
 sent abroad several times; once he was a soldier, fought and was 
 taken prisoner in France, but was soon set free. At other times 
 fie Avent to Italy, to some of the beautiful cities there, to 
 Florence, and Padua, and Genoa, where he saw lovely country, 
 beautiful buildings and pictures, and, what he perhaps enjoyed 
 still more, some of the great and learned men of Italy and their 
 books. He afterwards translated some of the charming tales he 
 learnt there into English. 
 
 8. Thus there was a great contrast between the two : one 
 grave, poor, and indignant ; the other gay, prosperous, and genial, 
 liut in many points, when they happen to write on the same 
 subjects, they agree wonderfully. They were both good men, 
 true at heart, hating sin and loving righteousness. Each confirms 
 the other, though they tell the tale in a very different way. 
 
 9. William, in his poena, says he had a dream in which he 
 saw a "field full of folk," and he tells us what they looked like, 
 and how they talked and behaved. There were gentlemen and 
 ladies gaily dressed, poor labourers, townspeople, bakers, cooks, 
 singers and jugglers, beggars, priests, bishops, friars, &c. Could 
 ■we but have a dream like it, and see that field once ! It would 
 teach us more than reading books of history for a year. But 
 the next best is reading in his own words what he saw and 
 heard. 
 
 10. Chaucer tells us about just the same people, only he 
 introduces them in another way. His was not a dream ; what 
 he says he saw he may have really seen with wide-awake eyes. 
 He met with a knight, a squire, a lady, a monk, an innkeeper, a 
 parish clergyman, a cook, a ploughman, a scholar, a sailor, and
 
 xxrx.] MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND. 291 
 
 many others, and gives us very perfect descriptions of them all. 
 Where does he say all these met together 1 They were going on 
 pilgrimage to the famous shrine of Thomas a Becket at Canter- 
 bury. Chaucer says, when the sweet spring weather came in all 
 these people began to think of going on pilgrimages, and the 
 favourite place in all England was Canterbury. 
 
 "The holy blissful martyr for to seke 
 That them hath holpen, when that they were seke" (or sick). 
 
 It was rather a long journey in those days from London to 
 Canterbury, and the roads in many parts of England were not at 
 all safe, on account of the crowds of robbers. Partly perhaps for 
 that reason, and partly for company's sake, the pilgrims would 
 travel together. One night in April or May a number of pilgrims 
 of all sorts happened to be assembled in an inn at South wark, 
 intending to start the next morning for Canterbury. Geoffrey 
 Chaucer says he was one of these. The innkeeper, who was a very 
 lively, jovial sort of host, proposes that they shall amuse them- 
 Belves "ii the Long journey by telling stories, and whoever tells 
 the iy BhaU be rewarded by all the others giving him a 
 
 good supper on their return. 
 
 1 1. Going en pilgrimage in those days was not a particularly 
 
 reli mony ; it was more like a pleasure-party. The 
 
 pilgrims rode very comfortably on horseback ; sometimes they 
 
 • singers and bagpipe players to accompany them ; 
 
 this time the amusement was to be telling stories. Some of 
 
 the I beautiful, some are droll; some of them are In idly lit 
 
 to read now-a-days, and Bhow how coai e the lower classes, at 
 
 bi en then. The tales thai the better-bred 
 
 de tell the knight, the cholar, the lady, and others are 
 
 lelicately thought and ■ • 1. 
 
 12. The other court poet was named Gower. Ee wrote three 
 principal books, the first in French, the second in Latin; and by 
 the time he had written both of the e, people bad 
 
 begun i" n ad English books, so he wrote the last in 
 I i h. He was a fine scholar, though not a genius like 
 Chaucer, but we can help out our picture of the times by some 
 be things lie says. 
 
 13. Another man who wrote a greal deal, and, above all, who 
 England a gift better even than the best of < !haucer F s beau- 
 tiful poetry, who gave her the Bible in English, was 
 
 John Wycliffe, an Oxford man and a clergyman, of yc * 
 whom we shall hear more farther on. 
 
 U 2
 
 2D2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lsoi. 
 
 14. We are now on the very threshold of the Reformation. 
 We have already heard of the extortions and tyranny of the 
 popes, and how the English were disgusted hy them. Never- 
 theless they still went on. The parliament protested ; they said 
 the Pope got five times as much out of the country as the 
 government did. Italian cardinals and priests were made arch- 
 deacons, deans, and prebends of English benefices, and the 
 good and learned English clergy (such as there were, and there 
 were some) were kept poor and obscure. Gower wrote, " Rome 
 bites the hand that does not bring a gift. From the court of 
 Rome, Mat i hew, Mark, Luke, and John would get no answer to 
 any of their asking if they took no gift with them." 
 
 15. It will be remembered how the Grey Brothers and the 
 Elack Brothers had come to England more than lHO years before ; 
 
 bow they had protested against all this love of 
 The friars. IunlK .y and worlclliiiess ; how they had preached to 
 the poor and comforted the sick. But by this lime these brothers 
 or friars had grown almost worse than anybody else. They still 
 professed to be more humble, more religious and saint-like, than 
 the rest of the world, but now it was all hypocrisy, and the 
 people had found them out. Every one of the books just men- 
 tioned has something, and mostly a great deal, to say against the 
 friars. They pretended to be so poor that they had to beg their 
 bread, and they went cringing about everywhere asking for 
 money, and trying to make the people believe they would never 
 go to heaven unless they gave to them. 
 
 16. There was a friar among the pilgrims going to Canterbury, 
 of whom Chaucer says " he was the best beggar of all his house." 
 If a poor widow had but one shoe he would get a farthing out 
 of her before he went away. The trials did not ask for money 
 only. They would beg rings and brooches, even flour and 
 cli.e-c, beef ainl blankets; in tact, all was iish that came to their 
 net. He asks for a very pretty little dinner at a farm-house 
 where he goes begging : the best part, of a fowl, white bread, and 
 a roast pig's head ; and then boasts that he wants but little food 
 he is so fond of reading tin; Uible. 
 
 He used to go about hearing confessions, and he was very easy 
 in the penances he ordered, and very ready to give absolution, as 
 long as he got plenty of money. 
 
 " Therefore, instede of weping and praieres 
 Men mote give silver to the poure freres." 
 
 Chaucer tells this and a great deal more, with a smile uii his
 
 xxix.J MEDLEYAL ENGLAND. 293 
 
 face. William Langlande, however, says just the same in his 
 grave way. In his dream he tells how a friar comes 
 to one full of sorrow for sin, whom he calls Con- pardons. 
 trition. The friar gives Contrition a plaster, called 
 "privy-payment," Ee says, "I shall pray for you all my life- 
 time—for a little silver." Then Contrition (I suppose after 
 paying the Bilver) "clean forgot to cry, and weep, and watch for 
 his wicked works as he did before." He tells us in another 
 place that when workmen were badly off, such as weavers, and 
 tailors, and carters' boys, thev "at last espied that friars had 
 fat cheeks." So then they left their labour, put on friars' 
 clothes, and lolled about ami lived at their ease. 
 
 It was above all the poor lepers whom St. Francis and his 
 disciples had tried to comfort and help; but Chaucer tells us 
 that hi- friar knew the taverns in every town, " and every hostler 
 and 'j ty tapstere " better than he knew a leper or a beggar. 
 
 17. We may 1"- glad this brood of lazy, hypocritical friars 
 have been Bwep4 away from the lace of the country. But we 
 l • not think that, because by this time the friars had become 
 so degenerate, all the preaching ami the beautiful lives of the 
 first and truly holy ones went for nothing. They were bearing 
 fruit now, nol in th^ new friars, hut in tie' hearts of pious men, 
 Wycliffe, and like William Langlande, and >>\' many thou- 
 Lhers, doubtless, who felt as they did, though they 
 Could i j • ■ t put their thoughts into words. 
 
 L8. This selling of pardon for sin, teaching tie' peop e that 
 tng money was more worth than repentance and mending 
 
 their Hv one "f the things that stirred up the wrath of 
 
 honest men almost more than anything else. The"pardons" 
 wen "r parchments, which were bought of the friars or 
 
 other "pardon One of tie- Canterbury pilgrims was a 
 
 pardoner, who had a sack full of them "hoi from Rome." A 
 Pi ! the Ploughman, who is come t" teach better 
 thing ' how him his pardon. Piers unfold th'' pardon ; it 
 ha- only two lines written in if- the words of Christ. 
 
 '• Tie y thai have done k" 1 "' ihall go in'" lit 1, i ternal, 
 But they that have done ill into everlasting lire." 
 
 William Langlande put i the meaning into a still shorter phi i o. 
 '• Do well and have well ; do ill am! have ill." Bui the prie t 
 this is uo pardon at all, 
 19. A great many of the other clergy of those d re great
 
 294 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY [leotv 
 
 disgust to the serious-minded by their grand living; their world- 
 
 liness, pomp, and show. There was a monk who went 
 
 , or r y on the pilgrimage too. He was beautifully dressed; 
 
 his sleeves were trimmed with line fur, "the finest 
 
 in the lond." He had a curious gold pin, with a love-knot in it, 
 
 to fasten his hood under his chin. He was fat, and he liked 
 
 good eating. 
 
 " lie was not pale, as is a starved gost. 
 A fat swan loved he best of any roast.''" 
 
 He kept plenty of good horses and hounds. " Why Avas he to 
 study, and make himself mad poring over hooks'? or to work 
 >\-ith his hands, as Augustine hade 1 ?" He had bells on his 
 horse's bridle that would jingle in the wind "as loud and clere 
 as doth a chapell bell." Gower tells of rectors of parishes that 
 did just the same. " They feed dogs, not men ; and when they 
 speak of God, think of a hare." 
 
 20. There was a Bishop of Lincoln about this time of whom 
 Fuller tells that he did a thing which would make us very 
 indignant now. " By mere might, against all right and reason, he 
 took in the land of many poor people (without making the least 
 reparation) to complete his park at Tinghurst," — land where the 
 I m Mir people used to grow corn, and feed sheep and cows, — in order 
 that he might keep the more deer. This was William the Con- 
 queror in miniature. Fuller goes on, " These wronged persons, 
 though seeing their own bread, beef, and mutton turned into the 
 bishop's venison, durst not contest with him . . . only they loaded 
 him with curses and execrations." Fuller, having told this, 
 cannot resist (nor can I) adding another story about the taking 
 in of common land, though it happened after this time. He 
 
 . " A knight went about injuriously to enclose the commons 
 of a town, and demanded of his bailiff what the railing in of the 
 same would amount to; to whom his servant answered, that 'if 
 he would take in the common, the country would find him 
 railings;' as they did now to this injurious bishop." 
 
 21. But even now the clergy were not all like this. There 
 was a patish clergyman who went on the pilgrimage to Canter- 
 bury; a very different man from the wealthy, hunting 
 
 T parson" monk > tne hypocritical, begging friar, or the pardoner 
 
 fresh from Rome. Chaucer, who tells us in a gay, 
 
 mocking way about all those, becomes gentle and serious when 
 
 he paints this poor parson. We feel that he loved him, and
 
 xxix.] MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND. 293 
 
 he makes us love him too. Here is part of the description, 
 well worth reading, notwithstanding its old-fashioned look. 
 
 " A good man ther was of religioun 
 That was a poure Persone of a toun : 
 But riche he was of holy thought and work. 
 J I- was also a lerned man, a clerk, 
 That Cristes gospel trewely wolde prcche. 
 His parishens devoutly wolde he teche. 
 }'•• nigne he was, and wonder diligent, 
 And in adversitie ful patient; 
 And swiclie he was ypreved often sithes. 
 Full lothe were him to cursen for his tithes, 
 Hut rather would he yeven (give) out of doute 
 Onto In- poure parisaena abuute, 
 Of his offring and eke of his substance. 
 He coulde in litel thing have suffisanee. 
 Wide was his parish, and houses fer asonder, 
 But he ne left nought, for no rain ne thonder, 
 In sickness and in mischief (misfortune) to visite 
 The i> ir.-t in his pariah, moche and lite (great and small), 
 Upon hi- i' '■ . and in hi- hand a staf. 
 This noble ensample to hi* sbepe he vaf (gave), 
 'that first he wrought, and afterward he taught." 
 
 If- would not go away to seek after preferment, leaving his 
 
 sh'-.], encumbered in the mire, "'hut, dwelt at home, and k< pte 
 
 Wei hi. fold." 
 
 " And though he holy were and rertnona 
 ll' ■ tid men not di*pitoui (|iitil 
 
 Ne (,i m- ip< cbe dangi rona ne digne (diadainfol), 
 
 i' te mill benigne, 
 To drawen folk to heaven, with faireneaa 
 I ensample, wai in-- bi im ; 
 m\ pi i -Mi oh tinat, 
 :■ '.. ri "i big !■■ "i Low estate, 
 Ilim weld'- he mibbi n rep tub) iharply for the noni s. 
 
 Bui Criatea lore, and hia apoatlea twelve, 
 
 II. t LUght, but lii-t In- Colwed it hiin-e. 
 
 ne who haa lived in all the "'"'i yean since Chaucer, could 
 Letter tii.it simple picture ; nor need we wish for a wiser or holier 
 ii in mil town and villages now. 
 
 Note to /-'•/.''./.'■ „.,.. n '-'p The lextona, ejave-d bell* 
 
 rin.-' i. and t" a ' ertain e tenl r< ;ard< d a ei 
 
 i, I, m it appear anj one undi li •" i d di b h Lfe.
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leo*. 
 
 LECTURE XXX.— MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND {continued). 
 
 The knights. The state of education. The households, dress, and luxury 
 of the rich. The condition of the poor. 
 
 1. We have already heard a great deal of the knights of those 
 days. Chaucer gives us a most charming account of the one who 
 went on pilgrimage with him, accompanied by his 
 son and one servant. We cannot conceive a more 
 perfect gentleman. Though very brave, having fought many 
 battles, and seen a great deal of the world, there is no boasting or 
 bluster about him. His manners are as gentle as a maid's. With 
 all the mixed company he falls into, he gives himself no airs. 
 He rides pleasantly with the rest, agrees to the host's proposal, 
 draws lots with the others, and tells his story most cheerfully and 
 courteously. 
 
 2. This brave warrior, who had been in fifteen battles, besides 
 sieges, has a very tender heart. One of the other pilgrims tells, 
 for his tale, of a great many people who, from happiness and 
 prosperity, had fallen into misery ; at last he tells a most piteous 
 Btory of one who was starved, to death with his three children. 
 The little ones die before his eyes, and then he himself, for 
 despair and hunger, dies. The knight cannot bear this; he 
 breaks in and prays there may be no more of it. He says it is 
 great sorrow to him to hear of the unhappiness of those who have 
 been happy. 
 
 " And the contrar is joye, and gret solas ! 
 As when a man bath been in poor estate 
 Ami climbcth up. and waxeth fortunate 
 And there abideth in prosperitee — 
 Such tiling is gladsome, as it tbinketh me." 
 
 We see in him the best ami beautiful side of chivalry. Chaucer 
 teaches us, in another place, what it is to be a gentle- 
 The gentle- man. He says we are, not to think it is to be rich 
 man ' and nobly born, but we should look who is most vir- 
 tuous, and tries always 
 
 " to do the gentil defies that he can — 
 And take him for the greatest gentleman."
 
 xxx.] MEDIEVAL ENGLAND. 297 
 
 Froissart had begun to think something of the same kind ton, 
 or at any rate he knew that treacherous and wicked actions were 
 unworthy of a gentleman. He tells us of a squire who did a very 
 base and" cowardly deed, that "he was scarcely a gentleman, for 
 no gentleman would ever have practised such base wickedness." 
 This is a much more noble idea of a " gentleman " than many 
 people hold now-a-days, for it is to be feared a great many now 
 think " gentillesse " lies in gold and silver more than in "gentil 
 «1 Is." ' 
 
 3. It would have been very pleasant for us if, as well as his 
 son, the knight had brought his wife with him, that we might 
 have seen what a married lady in those times was like, 
 and how she employed herself. But the only lady a y ' 
 
 who went on the pilgrimage was a prioress, that is, the head of a 
 nunnery. In both monasteries and convents they seem to have 
 paid a good deal of attention to manners. All the little things 
 which are taught to children in the nursery now, were serious 
 - of regulation then. The monks of Westminster had 
 special rules for their behaviour at dinner, forbidding them to 
 r to pul their elbows on the table, or to crack nuts with 
 their teeth. This lady was very retined, indeed, she took great 
 pains to be eleganl and stately in her demeanour, as if she had 
 been at court, she talked French too, to semi more fashionable; 
 hut Chaucer very slyly tells u< that, her French was 
 
 " after tin- school of Stratford atte Bow, 
 Por Fr< mil of l'aris was to her unknowe." 
 
 i he- of the marks of good maimers in those times was to " eat 
 
 nicely," and not to spil] crumbs and sauce about, and she took 
 gn ,: pains in that, respect. Fine ladies were particularly fond of 
 little pet lap-dogs; in the pictures painted al this time we fre- 
 quently see them Bitting idly in gardens, or even riding on horse 
 
 back, : httle dogs. So this lady had "small hounds " thai 
 
 she fed with roast meat, and milk, and the finest bread. And if 
 ,,i,e ,,f them died she wepl sore, she was bo tenderhearted, 
 
 indeed, that the WOUld Wee], if a llloll e We|e killid o|' ll lilt, ill a 
 
 trap. She would have been a very sweet lady had she Spent 
 
 some of hex gentleness and tender-heartedne a upon the | r, 
 
 which we do not hear t hat I he did. 
 
 1. The knights and ladies had very refined ta ■ < i in ome v, 
 They loved gardens and flowers; above all, roses (but Chaucer 
 loved lie I the simple Engli li daisy). They loved tl, of 
 
 birds; ; walking in a grove with the soft grass under their fet t,
 
 238 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and the thrushes and nightingales singing above their heads, was 
 as sweet to them as to us. By this time, also, there was a good 
 deal more education among them than there had been formerly. 
 "We may be sure all these English books woidd not have been 
 written if there had been no one to read them. And it was evi- 
 dently the pleasant custom for those who knew how, 
 Education of to rea( i a \ 0ll( \ to those who did not, as Ro ert Bruce 
 a gen n. uge( j ^ Q amuse jjjg companions, when they were driven 
 to their wild life among the mountains. One man (a little before 
 this time), who wrote a history of England in rhyme, says expressly 
 that he wrote it in English, not for learned people, but for 
 unlearned, who knew neither Latin nor French, that they might 
 have solace and pleasure, when they were sitting together in fel- 
 lowship. 
 
 5. This knight had a son with him, a charming young fellow, 
 about twenty years old. He was a squire as yet, but of course 
 would be a knight like his father in due time. Chaucer for- 
 tunately tells us what he had been taught, so we see the best 
 education which a gentleman's son would get in those days. He 
 had learned to sit well on his horse, and all things belonging to 
 the soldier's art, for he had already -seen real fighting, and 
 " borne him well," besides jousting, or the fighting in play, 
 which was then so fashionable. .Moreover, he could sing and 
 play on the flute ; he could write, so of course he could read ; he 
 could draw ; he could even make songs liimself ; and he could 
 dance. 
 
 Eeading, writing, poetry, music, drawing, dancing, riding, and 
 fighting — a very nice education for a young officer. But he had 
 learnt with all this, besides, to be modest and polite. 
 
 " Curteis he was, lowly and servisable, 
 And carf before his fader at the table." 
 
 To carve the meat for their elders and betters was considered 
 part of the duty of the young squires and pages. " He was as 
 fresh as is the month of May," and had curly hair. He wore a 
 very pretty dress : a sort of short tunic, with long and wide 
 sleeves, all embroidered like a meadow, with " fresh flowers, 
 white and red." His father was very soberly dressed. " His 
 horse was g 1, but he ne was not gay." 
 
 6. The country gentlemen lagged far behind in the matter 
 of education. There was one of them, too, in the company, 
 a rich man who had often been knight of the shire, or member 
 of parliament for his part of the country. The principal
 
 XX x.] MEDLEVAL ENGLAND. 299 
 
 thing he seemed to have cared about was eating and drinking. 
 When his turn came to tell his tale, he begs all his hearers 
 to excuse him for his plain way of speaking, because he has 
 never learned much. But he certainly wished fur something 
 better. He took a great liking to the curly-headed young squire, 
 and quite appreciated the pleasing way in which he spoke and 
 told hia tale. lie wished his own son were like him ; instead of 
 which, he thought of nothing but playing at dice and wasting 
 hie money, and he did not care about talking with gentlemen, 
 that he might "learn gentillesse aright." 
 
 7. The young squire's education was just suited to fit him for 
 hia life in the world ; but there was one of the company who 
 was a real scholar — an Oxford man. They are arnine 
 generally pretty gay and lively in our times, but e " n £ 
 this one was a real hard-worker, very poor and very philosophy, 
 learned. 
 
 " As len< : was hia horse as is a rake, 
 And be waa not right fat, I undertake." 
 
 He did not care for elegant clothes, nor for music and 
 dancing. All he wanted was books. Though he had "but 
 little gold in coffer," he did not care for that. Whatever money 
 he got, or thai hia friends gave him, it all went in books. He 
 liked to have Learned books at his bed's head; they were his 
 delight and joy. 
 
 " And gladly wolde be leme and gladly teche." 
 
 In the universities there was a great deal of hard study; 
 tip | '. i-iy deeply into Logic and metaphysics and other pro- 
 
 found matter ometimes Beem to have wasted a great deal 
 
 of g I Labour and cleverness on what Led to very Little result. 
 
 Be idet all lorte of ah tro e questions very difficult to solve, and 
 perhaps nol worth solving after all. Learned people, who gave 
 their attention to visible and material objeel . a yet believed a 
 which we know now to be quite untrue. 
 
 Be ides th.ir belief about comets and eclipses, which \\ 
 
 ntill considered at supernatural, and having much to do with the 
 affairs of men, they had many other strange ideas 
 about the heavenly bodies. They thought thai all a Astrolo & y - 
 man's Life and fortunes in the world depended on what ..-tars 
 could be seen in the sky, and in what pari of the sky, al the 
 momenl he was born. We till have the saying of a person 
 having 1-ern born undez a Lucky or an unlucky star, or of being of
 
 300 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 a jovial, mercurial, or saturnine temper, though we do not now 
 think a man will be of a joyous, friendly spirit if the planet 
 Jupiter shone upon his birth, or gloomy and morose if he was 
 born under Saturn. One clever old writer, who believed the 
 stars influenced the characters of whole nations, and who had 
 noticed, quite accurately, that Englishmen were fond of roving, 
 and always keen to see foreign lands and strange sights, while 
 the natives of India are content to stay at home and never wish 
 to change, accounts for it by the theory that India is under 
 Saturn, which, lie says, takes thirty years in travelling through the 
 signs of the zodiac ; while our country is under the moon, which 
 moves rapidly, and goes through those signs in one month. 
 
 9. It was also thought that the stars continued to have an 
 influence over the actions of their lives. Before beginning any 
 business, or doing anything important, people would consult 
 some astrologer or learned man, who should tell by the stars 
 whether it would prosper or not A lady would perhaps take 
 Ins opinion about her marriage, whether her suitor loved her or 
 not, itc. The astrologer believed or pretended that he could find 
 out that, by looking where the moon and some of the stars were; 
 as though they would not have 1 in -ii iii the very same places if 
 neither ihe lady nor her lover had ever neen horn. Others would 
 consult astrologers as to whether they would prosper if they 
 took to dealing in sheep or pigs, instead of considering how 
 much land they had, and how they should feed them, and so 
 forth. Doctorealso attempted to cure their patients by studying 
 the stars, and making images of them when particular stars were 
 in the ascendant. 
 
 10. The astrologers were very learned in their way, and no 
 doubt by observing the sky so much they found out many things 
 which helped on the real science of astronomy ; but as yet the 
 widest of them still believed that our earth was the centre of the 
 universe, and that it alone was fixed and immovable, while the 
 
 ii, moon, and .-tars revolved around it. They had begun, 
 however, to believe that it was no1 Mat, but a round globe, and 
 tie- -uiie traveller, who thought it was the moon made English- 
 men j restless, was quite convinced that it would be possible to 
 go all round it. In the very centre of the earth they believed 
 hell was placed. 
 
 11. Another way in which learned men wasted a great deal 
 of time, and wore out their lives and hearts, was in trying to 
 
 make gold. They were fully convinced that, in some 
 enemy. ^^. ^ othat, by mixing things together, melting
 
 xxx.] MEDLEYAL ENGLAND. 301 
 
 them, evaporating them, or some such process, they would be 
 able to make that precious tiling which all men coveted. They 
 never succeeded, and it has now been long believed that gold is 
 one of the simple elements ; but, doubtless, though they never 
 succeeded in that, they found out many curious facts about the 
 things with which they made their experiments. So that as the 
 astrologers helped to lind out the truths of astronomy, the 
 alchemists found out many of the truths of chemistry, about 
 
 •s, acids, and drugs, which it is very useful to know, and we 
 have the comfort of thinking that all their toil was not wasted. 
 
 12. The well-hred young squire of whom Chaucer gives such 
 a pleasanl account was, perhaps, hardly a fair specimen of his 
 cla--. William Langlande has a great deal to say 
 about the fashionable young lords who cared for ^rich 
 nothing bul idleness, gaiety, and tine clothes. They 
 
 ml all their money in chains and ornaments, and "except 
 their sleeves slide on the earth " they are very wroth. He even 
 tells us (with an and indignation) of the fashion of their 
 
 cloth . 
 
 • Bat now there is a guise, the quaintest of all, 
 A wonder-curious craft is come now <>i lata, 
 Thai men call carving the cloth all to pieces, 
 
 'I |, ii -. p< ii a;ood 11 were, aix weeks afti r, 
 l Bt 81 .mis, nor M'\v them again." 
 
 They pay twenty-times as. much for making up the dress as the 
 
 13. Parliament even interfered with the love of finery, and 
 tried to ti\ rules fbi the dress of people according to their rank. 
 Kings and the royal family were to nave the besi fur, as ermine, 
 
 l ornaments of pearls, &c, The richer knights and ladies 
 
 mighl have cloth oi gold or silver embroidered with ji wi Is, and 
 
 trimmed with miniver. Poor knights and squires had cloth of 
 
 silver, and their ribands and girdles " reasonably " embroidered 
 
 with Bilver. Those who were of a lower rani were aol to wear any 
 
 Ik, any ilver, or any ornaments of gold or jewels, [f anj i 
 
 ntured to wear a dress forbidden by these laws i1 wa to be 
 
 en away from him. 
 
 14. There was altogether greal luxury among the In 
 
 Kings and greal lord kept enormous households, and 
 lived very abundantly. Ii it were worth while we 
 could find out a great di al ab m i 1m ir diet, for 
 
 ami the other I ks thai were published about this time 
 
 there was a cookerv-hooh: I Chey were ?erj fond of flavouring
 
 302 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. Clect. 
 
 ■with pepper and saffron, wine and vinegar, and seem to have 
 taken vast pains with their dishes. Here is a receipt for making 
 an apple-pie : " Take gode applys, and gode spyces, and figys, and 
 reysons, and perys (pears), and whan they are well y-brayed 
 (pounded) coloure with saffron wel, and do yt in a cofyn, and 
 do yt forth to hake wel." A coffin, we must understand, at that 
 time meant any sort of box, and here it was what we should call 
 a "mould." What we mean by a coffin they called a " chest." 
 Our friend the country gentleman evidently liked pepper and 
 vinegar and that sort of thing. 
 
 " "Wo was his coke but if his sauce were 
 
 Poignant and sharpe " — 
 " It snewed in his house of meat and drink." 
 
 He had every kind of dainty, varying with the seasons: fish, meat, 
 partridges, &c. ; plenty of good wine and ale ; and his table stood 
 ready covered all day long. 
 
 15. In the winter people had to eat a great cpiantity of salted 
 meat, for they had not yet learned to feed cattle as our farmers 
 do, with oil-cake, mangel-wurzel, and the like. One of the great 
 Lords had at one time in his larder, which must have been a 
 pretty large one, 600 bacon (salted pigs), eighty carcases of beef, 
 and 600 sheep, for they salted mutton in those days as well as 
 beef and pork. But this was at the end of the winter, so we 
 may imagine wdiat he had at the beginning. He had besides, 
 alive, L'8,000 sheep, and enormous numbers of oxen, cows, and 
 
 pigs. 
 
 16. All this was to feed the innumerable servants and depend- 
 ents of all sorts whom he kept. These servants, who had not 
 
 much work to do, grew very idle and self-indulgent. 
 
 They are always complaining of their food ; they 
 disdain salt meat, and grumble when there is no roast; they 
 quarrel with the cookery, and with the beer, and say they -will 
 not stay in their places unless they get a better dinner to-morrow. 
 So when people now-a-days find fault with their servants, and 
 Punch draws pictures about them, they may as well remember 
 that their great gnat grandfathers and grandmothers used to say 
 just the same. There was even a law passed that the servants 
 were not to expect to eat meat and fish twice a day. 
 
 17. Meanwhile, the poor people were very badly off indeed. 
 The one sad and grievous fault of this time was, as we have 
 
 Th often seen, thai the rich and the poor were so far 
 
 apart from each other, and hardly seemed to know 
 
 Servants.
 
 xxx] MEDIAEVAL ENGLAND. 393 
 
 or feel that they were of one flesh and Wood. We know as 
 
 well, however, how the poor lived as we do about the rich 
 
 people's fine dinners. Chaucer takes the trouble to give us a 
 
 very particular account of a certain poor old widow, who lived 
 
 with her two daughters in a narrow cottage in a dale; this same 
 
 he says, was " full sooty." She knew nothing about 
 
 " poignant sauce " or dainty morsels. She was never made sick 
 
 or had the gout with over-eating and drinking. Her table was 
 
 tly Berved with white and black. The white was milk, and 
 
 the black was bread — white bread being a delicacy in those days ; 
 
 most people eat coarse, very dark-coloured bread, made of rye or 
 
 v, beans ot p< as. She had bacon, and sometimes an egg or 
 
 two. This was not very had fare, as far as nourishment went; if 
 
 she hail only Borne potatoes and some tea she would have done 
 
 v well. But sometimes the i r were much worse off than 
 
 that This widow, who lived in the country, had some cows and 
 Borne pigs ; that was how Bhe got her milk and her bacon. She 
 had poultry too (the resl of the Btory La taken up with the 
 t her cocks and bens). 
 
 1 -. Tl • description of still i rer people given 
 
 William Langlande. Be feels for the women most, when' 
 
 have large families to keep. They spend all their time in 
 
 ling and spinning wool, and can hardly earn enough to buy 
 
 milk and flour to make pap for their children. They themselves 
 
 Buffer much hunger and woe in tie- winter; they have to get up 
 
 at night to rock the cradle; they bave to mend and wash; 
 
 ! dl this, they musl card and comb the wool ready for 
 
 spinning, or they would not gel food for their children, and they 
 
 get little eno tei all their toil— a farthing's worth of mussels 
 
 for them. The winter-time, of course, is always 
 
 : for the | r, but it used to !"• much worse then than 
 
 now. Tie- ploughman describes what he has got to eat 
 
 • time before harvest II-- had uo bacon left, nor had he a 
 
 penny to buy p e, which were the commonest anim al s 
 
 then, for pigs could feed in the woods, and geese <>n the 
 
 commons : he had some chi e e, and curds, and cream, 
 
 1 made of bean , pea , and oal . a few vegetables, 
 onions, and pai ind cabba • . ime halt' up" cherries and 
 
 apples. And this pool fare m : till harvest, when he will 
 
 be better off. 
 
 19. Bui when the better times came, and the labourers were 
 getting more wagi , tnd things were plentiful, they were very 
 int; it was jus! a- n had been in William of .Maim'
 
 304 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Imry's days; they wore more inclined to "revelling" than to 
 Living by their money. Then they would not eat the coarse 
 brown bread, but must have the very best and finest wheaten 
 bread; no "half-penny ale" for them then, but the strongest and 
 brownest that brewers could make ; nor would they eat bacon, 
 but fresh hot meat or fish ; and so it went on till the bad weather, 
 and cold and scarcity, came again, and hunger pinched them. 
 Sometimes hunger and cold pinched them terribly ; we shall 
 Lear in the next reign what came of it. 
 
 20. We will end this lecture by reading the advice William 
 Langlande gives to the different classes of people in the land. 
 Though he is a poor man himself, and sees the faults 
 William and follies of ihe rich very clearly, he does not wish 
 Langlande's to <j . uvav w j t i, ,]„.,„ altogether, and to level all 
 people to one another. lie does not wish the lords 
 and knights to turn ploughmen, but he wishes them to leave off 
 their follies and fopperies. They are to be merciful to their 
 tenants, to take no -ills from the poor, nor to hurt their bond- 
 men. They are to reprove robbers, Batterers, and false men, and 
 to help to keep good order in the land. He says they ought to 
 hunt wild beasts. They are rather fond of doing so now for 
 their amusement; but we have to remember that at that time the 
 greater part of the country was still wild forest and waste land, 
 full of foxes, hares, and other creatures, which did great harm to 
 the farmers. Then; seem even to have been wolves still, which, 
 he says, worried men, women, and children. So he desires the 
 knights to hunt these and the wild birds of prey, on the week- 
 days ; but to go to church on Sundays, and attend to their 
 religion. 
 
 The merchants are to trade' honestly, and to use their wealth 
 in repairing hospitals for the sick, in mending bridges which are 
 broken down, helping poor sick people and prisoners, and to do 
 other charitable works, and then he promises no devil shall hurt 
 them. 
 
 The lawyers are not to take bribes, but for the love of the 
 Ton! they are to speak for the innocent and poor, and to comfort 
 them. 
 
 The sick, the blind, and the unfortunate are to be helped and 
 comforted; but the idle beggars are to be set to work. They are 
 to be I'd with dog's food until they will work ; but when they 
 e deserved it they shall sup the better. 
 
 Women are to do a good deal of needlework. Some of them 
 are to sew sacks for the wheat ; the ladies, with their long fingers,
 
 xxx.] MEDLEVAL ENGLAND. 305 
 
 should sew with silk, and work vestments for the clergy ; and 
 they should all spin wool and flax to make cloth for the poor, 
 and help the labourer who wins their food. 
 
 There is one set of people he cannot put up with at all — the 
 jugglers and story-tellers, who went about to amuse the people. 
 As he was of a very grave and melancholy sort of character, 
 anything like fun and merry-making was, as Solomon says, "like 
 vinegar upon nitre " to him. We need not agree with him in 
 this, but otherwise we shall perhaps all feel that tin: world 
 would still be the better if the spirit id' his advice were followed ; 
 and shall agree too with Gower, when he says the sun looks not 
 on a worthier race than the English, "had but its people love 
 for one another."
 
 306 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE XXXL— NEW ASPIRATIONS. 
 
 Wycliffe. The English Bible. Richard II. Wat Tyler and the insurrec- 
 tion of the people. Its results. 
 
 1. Of all the great men who lived in Edward III.'s long reign, 
 and that of his successor, Richard II., the one whose work was 
 the most important and has borne the most precious fruit was 
 John Wycliffe, who has been called the Father of the Reforma- 
 tion. The Reformation we may look upon as the greatest event 
 in the whole history of England ; it is that which has most 
 affected all our lives and thoughts and actions. 
 
 2. We hare seen how for several hundred years there had been 
 frequent disputes with the Pope, from the time when William 
 the Conqueror disdainfully refused to do homage to him for 
 the kingdom of England. We remember the great quarrel in 
 Henry II.'s time, winch ended in the murder of Beeket, and 
 Henry's humble submission. Going on a little farther, we find 
 King John really owning the Pope as his master, doing homage 
 to his legate for his crown, and paying him a large tribute. 
 Though this caused great fury and indignation among the English, 
 it was never formally put an end to till, in the reign of Edward 
 III., the whole parliament, lords, commons, and bishops too, 
 
 id ill together to east it off, and declared they would not 
 only not pay up the back sums of the tribute which had fallen 
 into arrears, but would never pay it at all any more. 
 
 3. Still all these disputes were what we may call political; they 
 ■ all concerning worldly affairs, and had nothing to do with 
 
 leligious belief. Up till this time all the English people believed 
 
 every one of the doctrines of the Roman Church. John 
 
 Wycliffe was the firsf mau who began to doubt some 
 
 of those doctrines, and to teach other people to do 
 
 the same. He was a clergyman, a very learned and clever man, 
 
 the head of Balliol College at Oxford. He was also a man of 
 
 trong character; very religious, and heartily in earnest in 
 
 whatever he did.
 
 xxxi.] NEW ASPIRATIONS. 307 
 
 4. His war with the Church began — just as we might expect, 
 after all we have heard — in a Avar with the friars. He saw, as 
 Chaucer and Langlande did, all the wickedness and hypocrisy of 
 these men, and the evil they wrought among the people. He 
 wrote against them, and he preached against them ; and his books 
 and sermons, being very forcible and clever, had a great eii'ecl 
 on men's minds. At one time he fell very ill, and was thought 
 t.> be dying; upon which a deputation of some of the friars paid 
 hiin a visit, and alter a few polite wishes for his health they 
 exhorted him. now that he was at the point of death, that he 
 would, "as a true penitent, bewail and revoke in their presence 
 whatever things he had said to their disparagement. But Dr. 
 Wycliffe, immediately recovering strength, called his servants 
 to him, and ordered them to raise him a little on his pillows ; 
 which when they had done, he said with a loud voice, 'I shall 
 not die, hut live, and declare the evil deeds of the friars.' On 
 which they departed from him in confusion." 
 
 During the- time when John of Gaunt was managing the 
 -■'"in in his father's old age, lie was engaged in a great 
 political Btrife with tie- clergy and bishops, and was 
 very -lad to find a helper in Wycliffe. Accordingly, J ° h:1 of 
 i time he favoured and protected him. "Apostolic --Ji-IIfiisw. 
 
 i i i • , , , , . protects aim. 
 
 erty For the clergy was the idea they had m 
 
 common j it was recommended to them by very differenl i 
 
 modern historian. 
 
 o. Wycliffe soon began to i j strong language aboul the 
 
 Pope, calling him " Antichrist, a proud and worldly priest, and 
 
 i of purse clippers and kervers " (carvers). He 
 
 i many other things which made the bishops verj indig- 
 
 Tho Archbishop of Canterbury suspended him, and he 
 
 Bumtuoned to appear bei mbly of 
 
 it St. Paul's < 'lunch in I. [on. John of 137T 
 
 Gaunl and the Lord Mai hill of England, Henry A » 8 . e ™ bl y of 
 
 i , i ,.- , • ,. bishops. 
 
 ••■nt with \\ ychffe, to proteel and oncoura 
 him in < I iny violence. There was an immense concourse of 
 
 I pie crowding around, and within the Ladye Chapel a grand 
 
 ad lords, besidi the bishops and archl 
 7. Bui Wycliffe had no chance to speak a word. Th< 
 ii fll to quarrelling. The quarrel is told verj am 
 by Eoxe, who wrote the livi oJ thi En Ii b n formi i , 
 words of Lord Percy, ] | th< Bishop of London " into 
 
 a furnish cnafe ; " and ■■■ m a fir< a! and kindle 
 
 between them, " insomuch that thej b< irati andrevii one
 
 303 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i-ncT. 
 
 the other that the whole multitude, therewith disquieted, began 
 to he set in a hurry." John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, 
 now spoke upon WycHffe's side; to whom the bishop, "nothing 
 inferior in reproachful checks and rebukes, did render and requite 
 to him not only as good as he brought, but also did so far excel 
 him that the duke blushed and was ashamed, because he could 
 not overpass the bishop in brawling and railing." The duke 
 presentky whispered (not so low but that he could be overheard) 
 that " he would rather drag the bishop out of the church by the 
 hair of his head than he would lake this at his hand." Then 
 the citizens stood up for their bishop, and " with scolding and 
 brawling" the council broke up. 
 
 8. After this the Pope sent what Foxe calls a "wild bull" 
 against Wycliffe ; but no harm came of it, for John of Gaunt 
 still protected him, and this time the citizens of London also 
 took his part. When this Pope died the state of the lioman 
 Church grew still worse than before, since it became divided 
 
 against itself, and two rival popes were set up, who 
 
 were, most furious enemies to each other, and set the 
 
 whole Christian world at enmity. The English took the side 
 
 of one Pope, and the French that of the other, and each party 
 
 called the opposite one "dogs." 
 
 9. The Pope whom the English supported sent some of 
 those "sacks full of pardons" to England, and proclaimed that 
 lie would absolve from every crime or fault those who would help 
 him in destroying his enemies. These pardons, of course, were not 
 to be had for nothing ; but so eagerly were they bought that, in 
 the diocese of London alone, " there was collected," says Frois- 
 sart. "a large Gascony tun full of money. . . and it was 
 solemnly declared that all who had given their money, and 
 should die at this time, were absolved from every fault." 
 
 We know what such men as Lairglande and Wycliffe must 
 have felt when all this was going on. Wycliffe, however, soon 
 began to think that it was not only the things which the Pope 
 and the clergy did which were wrong, but also those which they 
 taught and believed. 
 
 10. The principal doctrine which Wycliffe contested was that 
 concerning the sacrament, and the miraculous change in the bread 
 and wine, which was called transuDHtantiation. But he soon 
 went on to other doctrines too, such as " pardons," pilgrimages, 
 worship of the saints, and worship of their images. When we 
 come to inquire how it was that he began to think all these 
 things wrong, whilst everybody else thought them true and right,
 
 xxxi.J NEW ASPIRATIONS. 309 
 
 we find that it must have been through his study of the Bible. 
 Fot many years his great work was translating the Bible into 
 English ; and while be was working and studying at that, no 
 doubt lie discovered that none of those things were to be found 
 in it, but a great many things which contradicted them. 
 
 11. The popes and gr«-at Church authorities had by this time 
 fully made up their minds that lay-people had no right to read 
 the Bible. In the old Anglo-Saxon times it had been different, 
 
 and BUch i pie as knew how to read had been encouraged to 
 
 read their Bibles. But that was hundreds of years ago, and 
 things were much changed by this time. All those strange doc- 
 trines and practices had grown up by degrees, and now were 
 b worse than they used to be. Also the clergy had grown 
 more proud, and more anxious to keep the power and influence 
 in their own hands. 
 
 L2. Thus there was a sorl of doublereason for their not liking 
 the Bible to I"' read: one, that people would find that many of 
 their favourite doctrines were unite contrary to it, and The church 
 would soon leave off believing them; the other, and the 
 that it seemed to pul the laity more on a level with Bible. 
 the clergy, if they wen- allowed to read and judge 
 for themselves. But we will do them justice, and hope there 
 might be a worthies reason in their winds also ; they perhaps 
 p thought plain men could nol understand the Scriptures, 
 and might " wrest them," as St. Paul says, "to their own 
 
 iction." 
 
 13. Some time bef this, on the ( Jontinent, parts of the Bible 
 
 been translated into the common language of the country, 
 and the people had been delighted. The clergy, however, were 
 not delighted) they appealed to the Pope. The Pope Beeins 
 hardly to have known what to do at first ; il musl haveappeared 
 very .-tran;.'.- for the principal minister of God on earth to tell 
 the people they were not to read God's word. He hesitated for 
 a time, gave them advice, told them to be bumble, and so forth. 
 But by and bye, of course, these people who read and loved the 
 Bible found out how different it was from whal their prie ts 
 ht them ; and when they chose to follow their Bibles 
 rather than the priests they were pronounced to be heretics; 
 their assemblies were broken up, ami their Bibles burned. And 
 it became a settled rule of ihe Church that no layman should 
 
 thi Bible. This, and the doctrine of tran ab tanti ition 
 combined, gave enormouc power to the clergy, and made thmn 
 seem quite another sort of men from the rest of the world. They
 
 310 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.kct. 
 
 were the only ones who could understand the Scriptures, and the 
 laity might only listen humbly to the parts they chose to read to 
 them, and then, also, listen to how they might explain them. 
 They too were the only ones who could work the great miracle 
 of the sacrament, turning bread and wine into Christ's body and 
 blood. And if these two things were set aside, all their great 
 power would melt away. 
 
 14. These were things against which Wycliffe set himself, 
 though he was a clergyman too ; but he loved truth better than 
 power and greatness. He soon found people to agree with him, 
 even some of the clergy ; those he sent about everywhere preach- 
 ing to the people ; two of the most learned of them he kept to 
 help him translate the Bible. Another clergyman, 
 Wycliffe's Qne of tne church party, wrote about this great work 
 translation. ^ W ycliH'e in these terms. " Christ delivered His 
 gospel to the clergy and doctors of the Church, that they might 
 administer to the laity, and to weaker persons, according 
 to the state of the times and the wants of man. But this 
 Master Jehu Wycliffe translated it out of Latin into Engli-h, 
 and thus laid it more open to the laity, and to women who can 
 read, than it formerly had been to the most learned of the 
 clercy. . . Ami in this way the gospel pearl is cast abroad and 
 trodden underfoot of swine, and that which was before precious 
 both to clergy and laity is rendered, as it were, the common jest of 
 both ! The jewel of lie- < ihurch is turned into the sport of the 
 people, and what was hitherto the principal gift of the clergy and 
 divines is made for ever common to the laity." There we see 
 the exclusive and sacerdotal spirit in its prime. Were the laity 
 and even women to have a share in what only clergy ought to 
 
 possess 1 
 
 l.'t. Wycliffe and his friends took great pains to get copies of 
 the new translation made, and circulated as widely as possible. 
 ];,,t aa in tie i-e days books had all to be written out by hand, 
 they were very expensive. A New Testament of Wycliffe's ver- 
 sion cost, not long after this, £-1 16*. 8d, which was as much as 
 twenty or thirty pounds now. How he would have wondered 
 ,.,,,, 1 rejoiced if he had known the day would come when a New 
 Testament mighl be bought for two or three pence. His is not 
 the same Bible that we have now, because the English language 
 went on altering a good deal after his time, and another transla- 
 tion was made about 200 years later; but if we took pains we 
 could still read and understand his; so we could his sermons 
 and tracts. Some of his phra.es are very pithy. Tor the verse
 
 xxxi] NEW ASPIRATIONS. 311 
 
 ' He knoweth our frame, He remembereth that we are dust," he 
 puts ' He knew our britii making." 
 
 16. The bishops were, of course, very indignant with Wycliffe's 
 doings. They tried all they could to put him and his friends 
 down. When Wycliffe began to attack the doc- 
 trines and faith of the Church, John of Gaunt H s e e j s ut p e e d r " 
 
 ed to take his part. He did not wish to alter 
 his belief, 01 other people's,but only to get the power and wealth 
 of the clergy. For a long time the University of Oxford stood 
 by Wycliffe, but at last it had to give in, and he and his 
 followers were banished from that city. How it was the bishops 
 did him no more barm wecan hardly tell. Probably John of 
 ( .nint still protected him personally, though he no longer sided 
 with him : he was also favoured by the good and beloved wife 
 of King Richard 1 1. 
 
 17. H>- was permitted to retire to his country living at Lutter- 
 worth, and then; he spenl most of his time in improving his 
 translation of the Bible. At las! the English bishops appealed 
 
 the Pope, and Wycliffe was summoned to appear at Rome 
 to give an accounl of himself. But he was now too old and 
 infirm to go, though he said he would cheerfully have gone if 
 
 rible, for he was always glad to explain his faith to any one, 
 
 and above all to the Bishop of Rome. Very Boon after this, 
 
 whilst he was performing the service in his church, 
 
 he ick with paralysis, and in two days died. „. . ' 
 
 i'ii t .i ii Hl8 death. 
 
 Lhus the firsl o1 our English reformers, though he 
 
 had a stormy lit' 1 ', bad a peaceful death. Persecution had not 
 
 yet become as cruel in England as it did afterwards j but, as if the 
 
 Church of Rome repented of its gentleness towards Wycliffe, 
 
 aboul forty years later the Pope commanded his bones to be 
 
 dag up "ut of his grave, burnt to ashes, and then thrown into a 
 
 brook. Bui Foxe remarks upon this, "Though they digged up his 
 
 body, burned hi bom . and drowned hi- ashes, yet the word of 
 
 God and the truth of Eia doctrine they could nol burn ; which 
 
 yet to this day do remain, notwithstanding the transitory body 
 
 and bones "i the man were thus consumed and dispersed." 
 
 18. In the midst of all this .stir of though! the old King 
 Edward III. died, having reigned fifty years. Hi end was as 
 
 incholy as William the Conqueror's. He was 
 deserted by all hi- friends; none even of hia child- Death of 
 ren were near him ; and his wicked favourite Alice, Edward in. 
 who bad returned after her ban! hment, stole the 
 very rings off hia fingers. The Prince of Wale on
 
 312 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Richard, who was only eleven years old, was made king. Every 
 one thought that his uncle, John of Gaunt, would have very 
 much liked to take his place, and in former times it is pro- 
 bable that he might have done so; for though Henry III. 
 had been made king while still a child, Richard was the first 
 instance of a grandson of the last king succeeding to the throne. 
 But as John of Gaunt was very unpopular, and had made a great 
 many enemies, while every one was disposed to love the young 
 prince for his father's sake, he contented himself with watching 
 his opportunities to get all the power he could. 
 
 1 ( J. The first very notable thing which befell in Richard II. 's 
 reign was what is sometimes called " the peasants' revolt," and 
 sometimes, in a more dignified way, " the rising of the commons." 
 "We have seen how miserably the poor lived, and that, though 
 many had in one way or another become free, the greater number 
 were still serfs or villeins. These poor men, in return for their 
 cottages and little plots of land, had to plough and reap, thrash 
 and winnow, and do many other things for their lords without 
 receiving any wages. They were now, however, beginning to 
 feel their own power, and to murmur against the oppression 
 of their masters. Many of the same class in other countries, 
 especially in Flanders, had already risen in revolt, and those in 
 England were in a very dissatisfied condition. When things 
 are in that state it is like gunpowder only waiting for a match. 
 The government were soon foolish enough to bring the match, 
 to give the provocation which the people could not put up with. 
 
 20. The war with France was still going on, and, as usual, 
 
 there was a great want of money. When it was found that the 
 
 customary taxes would not bring in enough, a new 
 
 The poll-tax. one W;(S ge j. u ^ ^■} [ir ] l was called the poll-tax, that 
 
 is, a tax on everybody's head. The first time this was tried, 
 though every grown person in the country was to pay something, 
 -till tie- richer ones were to pay more than the poorer, and all 
 was clearly laid down. The Duke of Lancaster, who was the 
 highest subject in the kingdom, was to pay most, £6 13s. 4d. ; 
 wri- to pay £4, barons £2, and so on down to the lowest ; 
 and every one of these, excepting beggars, was to pay a groat, 
 which is 4d., but of course, was worth a great deal more then, 
 perhaps about 5s. Still the government did not get enough ; 
 next year there was another poll-tax. This time they did not 
 take so much pains in apportioning it. For every one in the 
 country over fifteen years old three groats were to be paid ; only 
 it was said, in a general way, that the rich were to help the poor.
 
 xxxi.] NEW ASPIRATIONS. 313 
 
 "When it was left to themselves in that vague manner it was 
 pretty sure the rich would not do more than they could help, 
 and it would fall very heavily on the poor. The tax-collectors 
 too were insolent and rapacious. 
 
 21. Here was the spark that set the gunpowder alight. All 
 in a moment, as it were, the gunpowder exploded. The poor 
 people rose, not only in one or two places, but 
 
 almost all over the kingdom. It seemed as if they Ris j ,' of 
 could not have had time to plan together, or tell the peasants. 
 each other their intentions; there were no telegraphs 
 or even post-offices then. But all at once, in counties far and 
 near, the people rose. In Yorkshire, Lancashire, Devonshire, 
 Norfolk, Suffolk, Essex, Kent the peasants were up in anus. 
 Their leaders were poor men like themselves, "fellows with no 
 Burnam As we saw, the lower orders of people at this time 
 
 had ii" family names. The principal leader of the people was a 
 man whose trade was t" make tiled roofs, and who 
 was called Wai Tyler. There was also one who had at y er ' 
 perhaps been a thatcher, as he was called Jack straw. And 
 her very important one was a priest named John Ball. 
 
 22. Fvoissart, who unit bavebeen growing old now, but was 
 still busy writing his history, gives an accniiul d' the rising. 
 Though Buch a great admirer of the knights and lords, he had 
 
 not much sympathy with the | r, and tells the worst he 
 
 can of them. Accordingly, he calls Wat Tyler a had man, 
 and s greal enemy to the nobility; and John Ball 
 
 " a crazy priest." He give u a specimen of Hall's John BalL 
 semen . •■ Every Sunday alter mass, as the people were coming 
 out "f church, this John Ball wa accustomed to assemble a 
 crowd around him in the market place and preach to them. I in 
 Buch ds he would say, 'My good friends, matters cannot 
 
 go mi well jn England until all things shall he iii common ; 
 when there shall lie neitlei va ;il nor lords; when the lords 
 shall he no more ma tei than ourselves. How ill they behave 
 tuns! Forwhal reason do they thus hold us in bondage 1 An' 
 we not all descended from the one parenl , Adam ami Eve? 
 
 Alel what, Can they shoW, 01 what rea-oli r;in 1 hey give, 
 
 why they should he more mi tei than ourselves? They are 
 
 clothed in velvets ami rich Btuffs, ornamented with ermine and 
 
 other I'm.-, while we are forced to wear poor clothing. They 
 
 and line bread, while w< have only rye and 
 
 the refuse of the straw. They have handsomi ind manoi . 
 
 while we must brave the wind and rain in our labours in the
 
 314 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 fields, and it is by our labour they have wherewith to support 
 their pomp. "We are called slaves, and if we do not perforin our 
 service we are beaten. . . ." There seems so much truth and 
 sense in some of this that one wonders Froissart could write it 
 down without perceiving it too. The same Archbishop of Can- 
 terbury who had suspended Wyclilfe put .John Ball in prison 
 fi >r two or three months, but as soon as he came out he began 
 preaching again as before. It is said that his favourite text to 
 these sermons was a rhyme — 
 
 " When Adam delved and Eve span, 
 Who was then a gentleman ? " 
 
 In the old Bible pictures, such as most likely were painted on 
 all the church walls at that time, they always showed Adam and 
 Eve digging and spinning, so the people would quite understand 
 that rhyme. 
 
 23. Froissart, as we see, had no sympathy for these people, 
 nor had Gower the poet. He was a rich gentleman living in 
 Kent, where the worst of the rioting was ; so he was all in the 
 midst of it, and perhaps was terribly frightened. He wrote a 
 good deal about it, sometimes satirically, and at others indignantly. 
 He compares the peasants to oxen and asses. " Asses, disdaining 
 the curb, rose like wild lions to seek their prey, and, leaping about 
 the fields, terrified all the citizens with their wild hee-aw. They 
 would no Longer carry sacks into the town, nor bend their backs 
 to any burden. They claim to be lodged and combed like 
 horses. . . I >x is a lion ; ox is a leopard; ox is a bear; but his 
 old character ox he has forgotten." Still he thinks the revolt 
 would not have happened had there not been great evils in the 
 
 land. 
 
 2 1. At last then the people rose in troops and resolved to free 
 themselves. As one might expert, they did a great many bad 
 things even at first; but, for an oppressed and down-trodden 
 mob, it seems wonderful they did no worse. They burst into 
 the manor-houses and ransacked them. When they found the 
 lists of the villeins on each estate, and the work they were 
 bound to do, they burnt them. They put to death a great 
 many lawyers and other officials, whom they looked on (perhaps 
 very truly) as their oppressors, and burnt their houses. Wat 
 Tyler and John Ball, with a great troop behind them, marched 
 up from Dartford in Kent to Blackheath ; and the rich men in 
 London, in great alarm, shut the city gates, and tried to keep 
 them from crossing London Bridge.
 
 xxxi.; XEW ASPIRATIONS. 315 
 
 25. But as many of the lower people in London were on their 
 ride, and as also there was much fear that the mob would hum 
 down the fine houses and suburbs outside the city 
 
 -. they were obliged after a time to let them in. ** ™™" e ™ 
 Though these people were very ignorant, wild, and 
 rude, they wire Englishmen; and Englishmen are by nature 
 neither cruel, bloodthirsty, nor lawless. The most of them did 
 not mean any liaim; they sent messages to the young king, 
 saying that they respected ami would obey him, but that they 
 musl tell him their grievances, and hope he would set them 
 right. 
 
 2 !. The worst mischief was, that after they got into London 
 they took to drink. At first "they did no hurt, and took 
 nothing fiom any man." But, out of fear or false kindness 
 ; de Bet a great deal of meat and drink before them, and when 
 tie} had once tasted the strong wine they thought they could 
 neveT have enough of it. Then they grew wild and violent. 
 They had a greal hatred of John of daunt, and declared they 
 would never have a king named John. They now Beized on his 
 palace, the Savoy Palace, in which the Fiench king had lived so 
 long, an -•■' li i •• to it ; though it, was full of Bilver and gold 
 and jewels they did not steal anything; and one man. who was 
 found carrying some valuables away, they put to death as a 
 thief ; but, unfortunately, they drank a great quantity of his 
 wine. 
 
 27. In their excitemenl they now killed a great many men, 
 and a horrible night was spent in London ; murder and drink on 
 nn ride, and terror and fury on the other. When morning 
 came it was thought besl to try and appease them, and, as they 
 bad demanded to see the king, it was agreed that he Bhould go 
 and meel them. Accordingly, Richard, who was 
 now about fifteen oi sixteen, and was a spirited kine" 1 ^ 
 young fellow, sent word to them to retire to "a band- 
 some meadow at Mile End, where in the Bummer time people go 
 to amuse themselves," and he would meet them there. About 
 60,000 of the | ambled. They musl have been sobi i 
 
 by this time, for 1 1 n • \- behaved very well. 
 
 They made four petitions to the kin;/, and very reasonable 
 petitions they were. The first was that thej Bhould be et free 
 for ever, they and their children; they would no longei be called 
 slave, nor held in bondage. Secondly, that h free pardon Bhould 
 be granted to all. Thirdly, thai they might buy and i II in any 
 market that they liked. And fourthly, thai g 1 land musl
 
 316 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 only be lot at fourpence an acre. That last sounds absurd to us 
 now, but there were reasons which made it not so absurd then. 
 
 28. King Richard promised to grant all their demands, and, 
 speaking very calmly and sensibly to them, "his word greatly 
 appeased the more moderate of the multitude, who said, 'It is 
 well; we wish for nothing more.' ' ( rreat numbers of them then 
 returned quietly to their homes, and no one can deny that they 
 had behaved wonderfully well. 
 
 29. Meanwhile, unhappily, a great part of the mob had not 
 gone to Mile-End at all, but had stayed rioting in London. 
 Whilst the king's back was turned, some of the lawyers and 
 Other men were murdered ; especially the Archbishop of Canter- 
 bury, wIki had put John Ball in prison. The rabble went on 
 drinking Rhenish wine and Malmsey Madeira. Moreover, many 
 of those who remained would not be content with what the 
 king had promised, but had a great number of wicked schemes 
 in their heads ; or, at least, so Jack Straw is said to have 
 confessed afterwards. 
 
 30. The next day the king, with only about sixty followers, 
 fidl in witli a great body of the insurgents at Smithlield, and, 
 seeming still anxious to pacify them, had some talk with their 
 leader. But "Wat Tyler behaving insolently, and threatening 
 one of the kind's attendants, the Mayor of London, William 
 Walworth, who was in Richard's train, struck him from his horse, 
 and he was killed. Upon seeing this his followers set them- 
 
 Lves in battle array, and bent their bows. It was a perilous 
 moment; but the young king, with rare spirit and courage, rode 
 boldly forward alone, saying, "I am your king; I will be your 
 leader." The rioters, struck with admiration or shame, attempted 
 no further violence, but really followed the king. Soon a lar^e 
 body of citizens hastened to the spot to protect him, and the 
 crowds, at Richard's command, quietly returned home. Thus 
 ended the revolt ; for the insurgents in the other counties, hearing 
 how those in London bad submitted, for the most part dispersed 
 of themselves ; the others were put down by force. 
 
 31. The worst part of the story is still to be told. None of 
 the king's fair promises were kept. As to the free pardon that 
 
 had been granted, not only were the leaders, John 
 
 th End °lt ^' l " ;l1 "* '' :i< ' % Straw, caught and beheaded, but a 
 
 e;re.it many others were executed also, in all, it is 
 
 said, as many as 1500. We must not lay all the blame of 
 
 this on Richard. For one thing, his pardon had been granted 
 
 before he knew of the murder of the archbishop and the others,
 
 xxxi.] NEW ASPIRATIONS. 317 
 
 which took place in his absence. Perhaps, too, he would 
 have liked to keep his promise about freeing the villeins, for 
 when parliament met he begged them to consider the propriety 
 of ab dishing the system of serfdom, or villeinage. But parliament 
 refused ; they said " no one should rob them of their villeins." 
 
 3:2. Thus it would seem as if all had been in vain. But it 
 was not bo really : the insurrection bore fruit. The poll-tax was 
 entirely done away with; that was one good fruit. 
 Another was, that though the masters would not, esu ts ' 
 in so many words, set the villeins free, it appears that the spirit 
 the men had shown made them a great deal more careful as to 
 their treatment; they did not dare any longer to demand the 
 services they had been used to, fearing the men would refuse to 
 obey. Gradually they perhaps saw how much better the other 
 plan of hiring and paying labourers worked. Tims, at the end 
 of fifty yean from the plague of the Black Death, the freedom 
 of the English Berfa was secured. The long struggle of the 
 labourers succeeded al last, and every Englishman was free. 
 
 33. Before leaving this Bubjecl we will notice for a moment 
 how the same conflict went on in France. There, too, the 
 nits had been oppressed, far more than in England indeed; 
 1 been treated Like beasts of burden. They rose up 
 at 1 linst their oppressors, plundered and burnt their 
 
 castles, ami massacred the nobles, men, women, and children, 
 wherever they could find them. The English revolters did 
 nothing a! all like this; there wus nothing which could 1"' called 
 a '• i ■.'' We think the English government was very 
 
 unjust and cruel in the punishments it inflicted, but it was mild 
 and merciful compared with the French. The way the poor 
 miserable p were treated makes one's blood run cold. 
 
 The dauphin un one occasion killed 20,000 of them; they 
 were cut down in heaps, crushed to death, and slaughtered 
 wild I" [n ume parts the whole country was cleared 
 
 of them by th< e butchery of the knights and Lords. 
 
 But what wac the result! In England, as we have just seen, 
 it was nol very Long before .justice and the right prevailed; 
 neither rich nor poor had any such horrible thing- to remember, 
 or wrong to avenge on either side. The Engli h nation went, 
 on, more or leas peacefully, growing in Liberty and unity. The 
 French nobles, no doubt, thought they had " tamped oul " the 
 rebellion. They continued century alter century to treat, the 
 poor as badly as ever, and al Las! came the frightful explosion 
 of the French Revolution.
 
 31S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.kct 
 
 LECTURE XXXII.— RICHARD THE REDELESS. 
 
 Character of Richard. His uncles. Troubles of the reign. Death of the 
 Duke of Gloucester. Richard aims at absolute power. Henry of 
 Lancaster. His banishment. His return. Deposition of Richard. 
 
 1. Richard's behaviour at the time of the revolt showed great 
 presence of mind, courage, and a certain generosity, and it might 
 have been hoped that a young boy possessing these qualities 
 would grow into a tine and noble king. But it was not so; 
 for though lie was handsome, clever, and affectionate, as Avell 
 as high-spirited, he grew up headstrong, proud, self-willed, and 
 very revengeful ; he had 1 >< > • 1 1 spoiled by flattery and ill-manage- 
 ment in his youth, and never Learned how to govern himself; 
 far less, therefore, could he govern a great kingdom. He soon 
 gained the title of Richard the Liedeless, which has just the 
 same meaning as the old nickname of Ethelred the Unready, 
 the unwise or uncounselled one. 
 
 2. While he was Btill young his uncles strove to get all the 
 
 power they could, and gave -icat offence to the king. We have 
 
 already heard about John of Gaunt, Duke of Lan- 
 The kings <..,,.,.,._ all ,[ ] luw ] 1( . ] ydl [ se t everv one against him 
 
 UllCiC'3 
 
 by bis pri le and extravagance, and how he cared for 
 nothing but pleasing the rich courtiers, so that the peasants had 
 li ii ne i down his palace, and declined they would never have a king 
 named John. This must have shown him bow utterly he Avas 
 hated, and tb it there was no hope of his ever being king ; and 
 after that he seems to have quite altered his conduct, and to have 
 become a peace-maker rather than a disturber, [n .Shakespeare's 
 play of Richard II. John of Gaunt appears as a very noble 
 r and great lover f his country, but this picture would 
 only have been true of him in his later year-'. 
 
 3. Another j iger son of Edward ill. was the Duke of 
 
 York, He does not seem to have been clever like his brothers, 
 nor ever to have quite known his own mind, or what side he 
 meant to take; as we may read also in Shakespeare's play. It
 
 xxxii.] RICHARD THE REDELESS. 319 
 
 is important to remember these two Jukes, because it was their 
 descendants who caused the dreadful civil wars, of which we shall 
 soon have to hear, between the houses of Lancaster and York. 
 
 4. The youngest uncle of the king was the Duke of Gloucester. 
 He was clever and ambitious, and as soon as John of Gaunt 
 retired he got most of the power into his own hands. Richard 
 made favourites, aa Edward II. had done, and they were hated 
 and looked "ii as upstarts, just as Gaveston and Hugh le 
 Dispenser had been. The Duke of Gloucester gained great 
 influence with the parliament, and encouraged them to make a 
 dead rinst these favourites, and to call on the king to dis- 
 miss them. Richard, the spoilt child, was growing up very 
 haughty and arrogant, and he replied that for such men as the 
 members of parliament he would not dismiss the meanest 
 servant in his kitchen. 
 
 5. But by this time parliament was so powerful that it was 
 no u ting them in this high-handed way. Richard had to 
 give in. Nol only were his ministers dismissed and . 
 banished, but a new Borl of government was ap- 
 pointed, with the Duke of Gloucester at its head, and making 
 ! iard a mere puppet. The 1 )iik<- of Gloucester in his turu 
 used his power very tyrannically ; a great many knights, judges, 
 and others whom he looked on as his enemies were pul to death, 
 and when the king attempted to interfere the Duke led an 
 ai in v of 10,000 men againsi bim. Richard had to yield once 
 m<>re, anil bis friends to il\ for their Lives. 
 
 6. Before long, however, Gloucester's power came to au end. 
 One day, in the mid t of a greai council, the king, turning 
 suddenly to the duke, said, "Uncle, how old am 
 
 I - ' •■ Y.ur hig] replied the duke, "is in 1389 ' 
 
 "Then," said Richard, Rlchai <i 
 
 ■ . , , assumes the 
 
 '•I mi-: certainly l>" old enough to manage my own authority. 
 affair ; I am much obliged to you, my Lords, for 
 
 . but I want 1 1 1 • • 1 1 1 uo Longer." So he pul 
 down the Duke of Glouci tor 1 ministers, and Bet up others in 
 their stead, and governed the country himself. Things wenl 
 
 quietly for eighl years; bul all thai time he kepi in his 
 own heart the determination to 1"- n I on his uncle and 
 
 those who had supported him. 
 
 7. During this quiel time he made an efforl tost ud 
 the people of Ireland. They were still as wild as the j I 
 
 been in the da) ol Henrj II. Even the English- 
 men who had Bet tied down in the country liail
 
 320 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 become quite as uncivilized as the natives, and had learnt all their 
 ways. Richard showed great skill and good sense in his way of 
 treating them, and by a mixture of firmness and gentleness he 
 brought the island for the time to obedience and a sort of order. 
 The four Irish kings did homage to him. He treated them with 
 kindness and courtesy, knighted them, and tried to civilize 
 them. The English gentleman who was intrusted with the ta«k 
 of It-aching them good manners gave a very droll account of his 
 difficulties, and the pains he took to break them of their uncouth 
 habits ; such as making grimaces as they sat at table, and eating 
 out of the same plates as their servants and minstrels. He tried 
 to make them wear dresses like English princes, of silk and 
 fur; but be could not succeed very well, and complains that 
 they would frequently return to " their coarse behaviour." And 
 when, alter nine months, Richard went back to England, after 
 doing what he could to establish justice and peace, all the 
 Irish did as the four kings did, and returned to their wild and 
 lawless ways. 
 
 8. While quite young the king had married a princess of 
 Bohemia, whom he dearly loved, and whom all the country 
 
 loved. She was called the "good Queen Anne;" it 
 Anne of wag s j ie w h was the friend and protector of Wycliffe ; 
 
 and it was probably through her that Wycliffe's 
 doctrines were carried to Bohemia, and took root there. There 
 is no doubt that many of his bonks were sent to Bohemia, some 
 of which .are said to remain even now in an ancient library at 
 Prague. John Buss and Jerome of Prague, who were some of 
 the earliest reformers on the continent of Europe, probably learnt 
 their doctrines in that way. In England, however, the teaching 
 of Wycliffe fell into great disfavour after the peasants' revolt, 
 because it was generally believed that some of his followers, if 
 not he himself, bad favoured t lie preaching and opinions of John 
 Ball; and the son of John of Gaunt, Wycliffe's early protector, 
 afterwards became a cruel persecutor of those who followed his 
 
 doctrines. 
 
 9. Nevertheless the conflict with the Pope on temporal matters 
 
 went on as vigorously as ever, and a law was passed 
 1393. which was called the Statute of Praemunire, order- 
 statute o • heavy punishment to any one who should venture 
 
 Jr rc£iuunii c. . . . . .. , . 
 
 to bring in Jus bulls, or exercise any authority in his 
 name, in the kingdom of England. 
 
 Not l"»ng after this the good Queen Anne died ; and when, at 
 the end of two years, Richard chose a new wife, his choice was
 
 xxx [i.] RICHARD THE REDELESS. 321 
 
 very displeasing to the country and to the Duke of 
 Gloucester. The French war was still going on, and Richard 
 Richard wished to put an end to it by marrying a UU pouiiiar 
 French princess. Strange to say, in spite of the 
 heavy taxes and distress, the English were not at all anxious for 
 atly preferred continuing the war ; they had never 
 suffered from it as tin- French did, because it was all carried on 
 in France, though the French had once or twice tried to invade 
 I'll i_: aid. 
 
 10. Froissarl tells us how they would say. "Why should we 
 i once make a visit to England, and learn the way thither, 
 a~ the English have learnt the way into France i Let us go and 
 
 bow they behave." Tiny believed that if they did so "Eng- 
 land would 1"- ruined and destroyed beyond resource, the men 
 
 to death, and the women and children carried in slavery to 
 Fran We '-an fancy tie' English savin- in return, as he tells 
 
 us, •■ I.' I them '-"He', and not a bouI of th ill return to tell 
 
 tie- -t »ry! Once or twice a French army lid really land some- 
 where in England, and I a little, lmt no greal harm came 
 
 1 1. 'I'le- English, therefore, .-till wished to carry on tie' war, and 
 
 rith Richard for making a truce for t wenty-five yeais, 
 and for marrying tie French prina ■ -, v. le> was a little 
 girl of < old. The Duke of Gloucester, in 129G- 
 
 i cular, declaimed loudly again*! it. Now was the tine' when 
 Kichard took the revenge he had m olong. The Duke and 
 
 i treacherou I3 a ized ami impri joned. < Uoucester 
 
 tie in C id ' . er appe ired again. I; 
 
 it that the duke died of apoplexy; bul everybody 
 ■ in tbeii hearts thai he was murdered by the king's 
 All tli uproar; the t wo ''Hum- dukes 
 
 i their broi ith, and it was with gi 
 
 I of peace ■■■■ A iid when 
 
 i red " the K.ing of England," 
 
 ■ 1 ii'- 1 more fierc ly than h . . nr,nU 
 
 . • er kings of 
 I had done, noi had tie re I •••'•n any one who 
 
 • money \t this period thore 
 
 one, ho Engl md who il J hi - 
 
 r intended doii 
 I '-'. I e fact was, Ri< h ird de ire I to be in ab olute monarch. 
 We : en how the different classes in 1 he country the lords, 
 
 ■ , and ; I in h bad all at id in 
 
 v
 
 322 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 their several ways been striving for centuries to limit the power 
 of the king, and make him govern, not according to his own will, 
 but according to the law of the land ; how they had made John 
 sign the charter ; how they had given more and more power to 
 the parliament ; how they had prevented the king from laying 
 on taxes without the consent of parliament ; how parliament 
 never would consent when the king was doing anything to dis- 
 please them. Richard wished to undo all this work, and for a 
 time he even seemed to be succeeding. 
 
 13. But it was only a sort of calm before a storm. It was not 
 likely that a nation with such a history, which had stood up for 
 its liberty and its rights so valiantly, was going to resign them 
 at a word. Richard contrived, moreover, to make himself a 
 dangerous enemy, and give his opponents the very head they 
 wanted, by his arbitrary way of proceeding. 
 
 14. Though Richard had been made king without any opposi- 
 tion, and John of Gaunt passed over, there was likely to be a 
 
 difficulty in appointing his successor; for he had 
 Henry of T[Q c ] 1 il ( J renj aiM j t} 1( . question arose who was to be 
 
 his heir. We should say now without a doubt, if 
 there were no descendants of Edward III.'s eldest son, the right 
 would next come to the descendants of his second son. And so 
 said Richard. The brother next to the Black Prince was the 
 Duke of Clarence, who had been long dead. But neither had he 
 left a son, only a daughter; still the children of that daughter 
 had the next right to the throne. Shu had married Edmund 
 Mortimer, Earl of March, and Richard declared her grandson to 
 be his heir. Thus, as we may say, John of Gaunt and his son 
 were quite put out of court. 
 
 15. But Richard seems to have had an uneasy feeling about 
 his cousin Henry, John of (jaunt's son. He was a clever man, 
 and much liked by the country. Shakespeare tells how Richard 
 observed the way he courted the common people, and tried to 
 win their regard by being wonderfully polite to them. 
 
 " How he did seem to dive into their hearts 
 With bumble and familiar courtesy; 
 What reverence he did throw away on slaves; " 
 
 how he would pull off his hal to a fish-woman, and make polite 
 speeches to a drayman, and so on. If he did so, no doubt the 
 pie would remark the contrast between him and the king who 
 was "governing so fiercely." 
 
 We may just notice that in the play we find this Henry
 
 xxxn.] RICHARD THE REDELESS. 323 
 
 called by a good many different names — Bolingbroke, Derby, 
 Hereford, and Lancaster. Those were all different titles of his, 
 and the most important one to remember is Lancaster, which he 
 i-sumed after his father's death, because when he came to be 
 king he and his son and grandson are called the House of 
 Lancaster. 
 
 16. Xow Henry and one of the principal nobles, who had 
 formerly opposed the king, the Duke of Norfolk, had a great 
 quarrel. The Duke of Norfolk declared that Henry had used 
 treasonable words about his cousin the king. Henry in his turn 
 accused Norfolk of being the traitor. As they both persisted in 
 declaring their own innocence, and the other's guilt, it was 
 decided to appeal t<> the wager of battle. The two were to meet 
 fully armed and to fight it out, and whichever conquered would 
 be declared to be innocent according to the custom of that day. 
 To us this appears just the same as saying that a great strong 
 man with good armour, a powerful horse, and a skilful arm was 
 always righl ; and a weak man with a poorer horse, or not such 
 a well-tempered sword, was always wrong; but the idea was not 
 really so irrational 01 foolish as thai ; it was founded on the very 
 same belief on whirl, bo many of theii other opinions were 
 founded — that God was constantly interfering to work miracles 
 in the affairs of men, They thought that if the two champions 
 solemnly appealed to Eim, He would it' needful work a miracle, 
 and let the weaker one vanquish the stronger, if the right lay on 
 
 I 
 
 17. These two great lords then appeared before the king and 
 all the court dre ed in splendid armour, and ready to fight on 
 this quarrel, But jusl before the fight began the 
 
 kin:,' interfered; he forbade the duel and laid a Hls banisl1 - 
 
 v punishment on both. The Duke of .Norfolk men ' 
 be banished from the kingdom for ever; his cousin Henry for 
 ten yean, which be afterwards altered to six. He had perhaps 
 reason for believing that there, bad been ome truth in whal each 
 had laid of the other, and that be would be all the safer with 
 both of them out of the country. No one dared re i it, and thi 
 two dukes lefl England 
 
 I -. Soon after thi old John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lanca nt, 
 died, an>l then Richard did the last infatuated act, which 
 broughl in in. 1 1 to a crisis. In tead of allow ing bis 
 bani bed coa in to I to bis father's property, Biohard 
 
 Richard seized on everything for him elf. He ent inh^-'itance 
 officers to take p >n of his land, and to gather 
 
 v 8
 
 324 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 the rents; and he gave away some of the estates altogether. Tt 
 must lie remi inhered that nothing had ever been proved against 
 
 Henry; ami ind 1 Froissart says "he prided himself on being 
 
 one of the most loyal knights in the universe." Therefore the 
 unjust seizing of his inheritance made everyone in England very 
 indignant. 
 
 19. At this moment, when he had put himself so thoroughly 
 in the wrong, Richard left the country and once more proceeded 
 to Ireland. That unfortunate island was again in a very bad 
 end troubled state, and sorely wanted setting to rights; but 
 Richard had better have stayed at home and looked after England 
 just now. He left behind as regent his uncle the Duke of 
 York, who. Til-sides being naturally of an irresolute character, was 
 very old by this time. 
 
 20. This was the opportunity for Henry of Lancaster. 'While 
 he was in exile he had made friends with another very important 
 
 person, the Archbishop of Canterbury, whom the 
 His return. c i esiU)t ; c Richard had also banished. These two now 
 
 rmined to come home again. Henry landed at Ravenspur 
 in Yorkshire (a place which has long since been washed away by 
 the sea), professing that he was only come to claim his own 
 inheritance. Almost every on.- took his part, especially the 
 great lords of the north, the kirl of Northumberland and tie- 
 Earl of Westmoreland. The Duke of York, after wavering for 
 
 i time, at last also took the side of Efenry, who was his 
 
 nephew as well as Richard ; though its i became very evident 
 
 that he would not : 1 with his father's possessions, but 
 
 aimed at being kim: himself. 
 
 21. Richard, ray in Inland, heard nothing of all that 
 was going on foi When he did hear of it, contrary 
 winds prevented him from crossing tie- sea: in those days when 
 there were no si. -:111c rs everj thing depi tided on 1 he way 1 be wind 
 blew. By the time !m- did :.t lasl come back all was lost. His 
 own men forsook him without striking a Mow. Richard dis- 
 guise. 1 himself as a priest, and wandered about with his few 
 friends seeking help and finding none. At last he went to 
 Conway in Wales, where the Earl of Northumberland was, and 
 surrendered himself. It seemed as if all his great pride mell d 
 out of him at once. He saw very well that his day was past, 
 and hi- cousin's day was begun. 
 
 Ul'. lie was quite humble and consented to everything. He 
 taken to London, where he rode through the streets on
 
 xxxu.] RICHARD THE REDELESS. 325 
 
 a w I horse, while Henry rode on one of 
 
 Richard's own favourite chargers. He was then Deposition of 
 taken to the Tower, and parliament was summoned. Richaid. 
 The day before it met, the archbishop, who had 
 returned from banishment, and the Earl of Northumberland 
 made the unfortunate Richard sign a paper, saying that he 
 gjned the crown, and absolved the people.from their allegiance. 
 ISO said, that it' he could have had leave to appoint a suc- 
 ■>r, he should have chosen his cousin Henry. 
 23. The next day tins paper was read to the parliament, and 
 Richard's i i »n oath, the oath in which he had sworn 
 
 to rule justly, to keep the charters and respect the laws. After 
 this a Long list of grievances was read, to show that he had 
 broken that oath, and oppressed the people; that he had laid 
 on taxes illegally, that he had claimed to mala- and alter the 
 I ording to his own will, that he had taken away the 
 
 power of parliament, that he had deceived and put to death his 
 . i, the Duke of Gloucester, thai he had been most unjust to 
 in Henry, and many other charges. Any one could see 
 what was to be the end. Richard was deposed and imprisoned, 
 rienr made king by both archbishops, by the whole par- 
 
 I by the >f I he c
 
 326 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE XXXIII.— HENRY OF LANCASTER. 
 
 The Lollards. Persecution. Prince Harry. The Border Wars. Percy 
 and Douglas. Owen Glendower. Battle of Shrewsbury. The King 
 of Scotland. 
 
 1. It might appear that the choice of parliament and of the 
 nation gave Henry IV. a very good title to be king ; and if our 
 
 monarchy were an elective one, no one could have 
 Henry's wished for a better. But, from of old, it could 
 
 neither be said to be strictly elective nor strictly 
 hereditary. According to the old custom, when the country used 
 to elect its Icing out of the royal family, Henry would have been 
 in as good a position as King Alfred himself had Richard been 
 dead. But since the feudal system had grown up people had 
 come to think less of election and more of the hereditary right 
 of the king, and Henry had not that right. 
 
 2. Thus from the very first he had two great fears and rivals. 
 As long as King Richard was alive no one could tell that his 
 friends and the people might not rise in bis favour, and restore 
 him to his throne. We might feel .sure, then that Richard 
 would not lie long in prison. Just as when the Duke of Glou- 
 cester had been imprisoned by him and never appeared again, 
 but died no one knew how, so it was with himself now his turn 
 was come. It was soon announced that he was dead, and of 
 course it was believed (most likely truly) that he was privately 
 murdered by the king's order, or permission, though for a long 
 time after reports used to be spread abroad that he was alive, 
 which kept Henry in constant alarm. 
 
 3. Then, too, there was the young Mortimer, who according 
 to the laws of inheritance was the real heir, and who was as yet 
 quite a child. Henry had taken possession of him, and kept him 
 as a sort of honourable prisoner in the court, where he received 
 a good education, and was very well treated. Still, this was 
 another danger, for any day Henry's enemies might try to take 
 him away and make him king, as indeed they did after a time.
 
 xxxiii] HENRY OF LANCASTER. 3-27 
 
 4. Thus it was by no means a bed of roses that Henry pre- 
 pared for himself when he aspired to be King of England, and 
 he had to try to please and conciliate all parties in order to 
 secure his position. Above all, through his whole reign he took 
 great care never to get into any disputes with the parliament, to 
 which he owed his crown. 
 
 5. Almost the first act of his reign was one which is very 
 pleasant to hear of ; it was a mark of kindness and favour 
 bestowed upon the aged poet Chaucer, whom he had doubtless 
 known well all his life, from the time when his father used to 
 patronize him long ago. Richard was deposed on the 30th of 
 September, and on the 3rd of October the new king doubled 
 Chaucer's pension, giving him a sum which would have made 
 him very comfortable for the rest of his life, though he only 
 lived one year to enjoy it. 
 
 6. Though he Bhowed himself thus generous and grateful to 
 hi- father's old friend and his country's great glory, he had no 
 such kind feelings to the other famous man, whom John of 
 (Jaunt had at one time prot -rU-d, John AVycliffe. The w r orst 
 thing in all his reign Lb that h • most cruelly persecuted his dis- 
 ciples. Wycliffe himself, as we saw, died a peaceful death, but 
 
 he had left many followers, whom the Church of Rome desired 
 and punish. These followers of AVycliffe were 
 called the Lollards. No one is quite sure what that 
 word meant, but it was doubtless a term of con- ^ 
 tempt. It, probably came from the word "loll," 
 
 and at first meant, a iluggard 01 la/.y person who lived at other 
 
 people's e rather than by his own labour, though this 
 
 been a most unjusl charge against Wycliffe's dis- 
 ciples, Great numbers of people agreed with Wycliffe in his 
 indignation against the tyranny of the Pope, the worldliness of 
 tie- clergy, and tie- covetousness of the friars. Some, though 
 not o many, agreed with him in his protest against the doctrines 
 of the Roman < 'hurch, and in his efforts to promote true religion, 
 humility, and charity. This is part of a description which I have 
 read of them, said to be written not hy one of their friends, but 
 
 by a Roman inquisitor. " The disciples of Wycliffe are n of a 
 
 serious, mod< I deportment, they avoid all ostentation in dn 
 mix little with the busy world, and complain of the wickedness of 
 mankind. They maintain them ntirely by tleir own Labour, 
 
 despising wealth, being fully content with mere neces aries . . . 
 they are chaste and temperate, never Been in taverns nor amu ed 
 by vain pleasures. Sfoo find them always employed either learning
 
 32S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leg*. 
 
 or teaching. They never swear, they speak little; in public 
 preaching they lay the chief stress upon charity." 
 
 7. Nevertheless, though Wycliffe's teaching bore such fruit as 
 this, the archbishops, bishops, and other high dignitaries did all 
 
 they could to stop it, and to oppress these harmless 
 Persecution. mej ^ jj enrVj perhaps, in order to propitiate them 
 and win their favour in bis difficult position, was very ready to 
 help them. One of the first, laws passed in his reign was a shame- 
 ful one, commanding that "heretics" should be burned alive. 
 Before Eenry had been king two years the first of these " heretics" 
 as they called them, " martyrs " as we call them, was burned in 
 Smithfield. He was a London clergyman named William Sawtre, 
 and the principal charge brought against him, was denying the 
 doctrine of transubstantiation and the worship of the cross. He 
 said that he would not worship the cross on which Christ sull'ered, 
 but Christ who suffered on the cross. 
 
 8. Before he could be put to death it was necessary formally to 
 degrade him from his position as a clergyman. The secular courts 
 were not allowed to punish a Churchman, and the ecclesiastical 
 
 arts could not punish with death. The priest then had to be 
 made into a layman before the cruel purpose could be executed. 
 The archbishop and six bishops met in St. Paul's Church, and 
 the " heretic" was brought before them. Step by step he was 
 degraded from one office after another which he had held in the 
 Church. First the priestly vestment and the sacramental cup 
 were taken from him, and lie was no longer a priest but a deacon ; 
 then the Xew Testament and the deacon's stole were taken, and 
 he was onlv a sub-deacon ; one sacred thing after another, the alb, 
 the candlestick, the taper, the lectionary, were taken away, till he 
 stood only as a sacristan 01 sexton, wearing a surplice, and hold- 
 ing the church key in his hand. These also were removed, the 
 marks of the " tonsure " or shaven crown of his head were 
 done away with, and he was now a mere layman. What did he 
 feel, what did those pitiless bishops feel, as the terrible ceremony 
 went slowly on '? We do not know, but we know the dishonoured 
 and discrowned victim was faithful unto death. The archbishop 
 handed him over to the Fecular power, to the high constable and 
 marshal! of England, with the hypocritical entreaty that they 
 would receive him favourably, for the Roman Church always 
 delivered over its victims with a recommendation to mercy, and 
 "William Sawtre was burnt at the stake. "We all 
 1401 " know how many noble and brave men .sull'ered the
 
 xxxm.] HENRY OF LANCASTER. 329 
 
 like in after times'; but we ought not to forget this first one, 
 who died for conscience' sake. 
 
 9. Henry IV. had several sons, the eldest of whom is a very 
 famous character. He is often cal li"l " Harry Madcap," on account 
 of the eav. wild life he led when he was young. It _ . 
 
 is not known quite certainly whether he really was Harrv 
 ;iia. Ira]." as he is reputed to have been, for it is 
 ly in Shakespeare's plays that we find this description of him, 
 
 and many historians doubt if it is true, lint as long as people 
 
 read Shakespeare, and thai will be as long as the English language 
 . nobody Avill ever be able to think of Prince Harry except 
 wild, witty, dissipated prince, with some touches of better 
 
 things about him, which gave a sort of promise of his future glory. 
 
 10. There is one very famous story about him which shows 
 
 : bis character, and which is well told by Sir John 
 t, but as he lived more than 100 years later, it is by 
 no me ma c srtain that t he story is true. It is, however, too inter- 
 esting and chai ic to be omitted. "The mosl renowned 
 prince, Kin;,' Henry V., dui ing the life of his father was noted to 
 be fierce, and of wanton courage; it happened that one of his 
 mts whom he well favoured was, for felony by him committed, 
 gned at the King's Bench, Whereof the prince being adver- 
 tised, and incensed by light persons about him, in furious rage 
 came hastily to the bar, where his servant stood as a prisoner, and 
 commanded him to bd iingyved and set at liberty ; whereat all 
 men were abashed, saving the chief justice, who humbly exhorted 
 the prince thai his Bervant might be ordered according to the 
 ancient laws of this realm ; or if he would have him saved from 
 the i of the la I he should obtain, if he might, of the 
 kin;.' In- father, his gracious pardon, whereby no law orju tice 
 should be derogate. With which an wet the prince, nothing 
 appease, l, hut. rather more inflamed, endeavoured himself to take 
 away bis servant. 
 
 ■■'I hej he perilous 63 ample and inconvenience 
 
 thai mighl ensue, with a valiant spirit and courage, commanded 
 the prince, upon his allegiance, to leave the pri oner, and depart 
 his way. With which commandmenl the prince, beiog set all in 
 a fury, all chafed and in a terrible manner came up to the place 
 of judgment, men thinking that he would I) in theju 
 
 or have done to him some damage. Bui the jud ■■. itting til) 
 without, moving, declaring the maje ty of the king's place of judg 
 it, and with an assured and hold countenance, lid to the
 
 330 LECTURES ON ENGLISII HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 prince these words following : Sir, remember yourself : I keep 
 here the place of the king, your sovereign lord and father, to 
 whom ye owe double obedience ; wherefore eftsoone, in his name, 
 I charge you, desist of your wilfulness, and unlawful enterprise, 
 and from henceforth give good example to those which hereafter 
 shall be your own subjects. . . . And now, for youi contempt 
 and disobedience, go you to the prison of the King's Bench, where- 
 anto I commit you, and remain ye there prisoner, until the plea- 
 sure of the king your father be farther known.' With which 
 words being abashed, and also wondering at the marvellous 
 "ravity of the worshipful justice, the noble prince, laying his 
 weapon apart, doing reverence, departed, and went to the King's 
 Bench as he was commanded. 
 
 "Whereat his servants, disdaining, came and showed to the king 
 all the whole affair ; whereat he, awhile studying, after, as a man all 
 ravished with gladness, holding his eves and hands up to heaven, 
 abraided,* saying with a loud voice, ' merciful God, how much 
 am I, above all other men, bound to your infinite goodness, specially 
 for that ye have given me a judge who feareth not to minister jus- 
 tice, and also a son who can suffer semblably, and obey justice." 
 11. Other storms speedily arose to trouble Henry's reign. 
 The first began in Wales. It was more than 100 years since 
 Edward I. had conquered that little country, but 
 Troubles in the people had not submitted willingly, nor ceased 
 Wales. to | iate t j le j r con q U erors. A Welsh gentleman, 
 named Owen Glendower, who was said to be descended from 
 the last Welsh king, Llewellyn, and who took offence at what lie 
 considered ill-treatment from Henry, rose in rebellion, roused up 
 the people, and made war on the English. He had at first great 
 success, and took prisoner Edward Mortimer, the uncle of the 
 little heir. Henry marched against him ; but Wales, with its 
 mountains and marshes, was a very difficult country for English 
 soldiers to fight in; and this being the autumn season, there 
 were so many storms and so much snow that the king had to 
 draw back. The snow and the storms came in so well to help 
 the Welsh that Owen gained the character of a great magician, 
 who could govern the weather as it suited him. 
 
 12. Besides the Welsh, Henry had enemies both in the 
 
 French and the Scotch. To please the English nobles, he had, 
 
 indeed, determined to carry on the war with the 
 
 thelSSerl French, wind. Richard had tried to put an end to; 
 
 and the Scotch, as usual, were on the side of France. 
 
 * abraided, broke suddenly into speech.
 
 xxin.] HENRY OF LANCASTER. 331 
 
 There was seldom now any fighting with Scotland on a grand 
 scale, as in the days of Wallace and Bruce ; it was principally a 
 kind of marauding war that was carried on along the borders. 
 There were two great families especially who were always fight- 
 ing in these parts : on the Scotch side the Douglases, and on the 
 English the Percies, at whose head was the Earl of Northumber- 
 land. 
 
 13. It appears that both parties thoroughly enjoyed this 
 state of things. One old writer tells how they would fight with 
 the utmost valour, till " sword and lance could endure no longer," 
 and then they would part from each other, saying, " Good day, 
 and thanks for the sport you have shown;" or, as Froissart said, 
 " th> irify in their deeds of arms, and are so joyful, that, 
 
 at their departing, courteously they will say, 'God thank you.'" 
 It was one of these little battles that was sung about in our 
 Bplendid old ballad of 'Chevy Chase,' or 'the Chase of the 
 Cheviots.' 
 
 1-i. The Earl of Northumberland, who had helped Henry IV. 
 to the throne, had a very famous Bon, Henry Percy, who, because 
 of his impetuosity ami fiery character, was called 
 II ■ pur, and who is described in Shakespeare as e ercies - 
 "the Hotspur of the north; he that kills me some Bix or seven 
 
 d<>/.' its at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his 
 
 wit"'-. Fie up mii this quiet life." 
 
 1 .">. Jusl about this time the Percies and the Douglases had a 
 
 greater battle than usual, al a place called Bomildon Hill, where 
 
 the Scotch v,-eiv totally defeated, and Douglas and some other 
 
 important Scotch nobles made prisoners. The custom in 
 
 those times was, that, if a man of rank and consequence were 
 
 made prisoner, he, would pay a large sum of money to 1» 
 free, and tie- Percit expected to receive a heavy ransom for 
 these Scotchmen. Hut, the king interfered; he took one of their 
 
 mew away from them, and demanded that, tie- ran om of the 
 
 i ii'. iih I he paid to him, and not, to the Percies. 
 
 16. Bol pur's fiery blood Would not, stand this. In the 
 
 greatest fury and indignation he renounced the king's cause, 
 complained bitterly of his ingratitude tor the Bervices be and 
 bis father had rendered to him, aid determined to join his 
 enemies. The iii-t of these with whom he made friends was bis 
 own |'ii oner, the Scotch Douglas, with whom he had always 
 been fighting hitherto. Then he though! of the \v. I bman 
 Owen Glendower, who had done the very same thing with bis 
 >nex Mortimer. All these now allied themselves together
 
 332 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 against the King of England ; though, if we are to believe 
 Shakespeare, the impetuous, rough, and plain-spoken Hotspur did 
 not get on very well with Owen Glendower, who was pompous, 
 prosy, and pretentious. 
 
 17. Thus there was a formidable combination against Henry : 
 Wales and Scotland with France backing them up, and, worse 
 still, rebels at home. The Percies were soon joined by other 
 English nobles who had been llichard's old friends, and especi- 
 ally by Scrope, the Archbishop of York. The king, however, 
 was prompt and determined j he soon collected a large army.. 
 Prince Henry, who, with all his frolics, could be brave and in 
 earnest when needful, helped his father. The king had also 
 another clever and courageous young son named John, who 
 afterwards became very distinguished. With them 
 1403. he marched against the rebels. They met at Shrews- 
 
 Battle of ] nu .y w here a great battle was fought, in which the 
 Shrewsbury. ^^ were defeated and Henry Hotspur killed. 
 
 18. The rebellion was crushed for a time, but before long it 
 broke out again. A lady contrived to steal the young Mortimer 
 out of Windsor Castle, and to Bee away with him, but they were 
 soon overtaken, and the prince brought back. After a time the 
 principal conspirators were liken prisoners and put to death; 
 even the Archbishop of York was beheaded. Though more than 
 
 one archbishop bad been murdered in England before 
 
 1405, now, this was the first time that a great ( 'hurchman 
 
 had been executed by the law, and it caused great indignation in 
 
 the country. Pious people began to make pilgrimages to his 
 
 tomb, and it was soon reported that miracles were worked there. 
 
 19. By degrees, however, in one way or another, all the great 
 dangerswhich bad threatened Henrypassed away. His principal 
 enemy in France, the Duke of Oilcans, was murdered, and the 
 Duke of Burgundy, who succeeded to his power and influence, 
 
 3 inclined tobefrien llyto England. So that Owen Glendower 
 and his Welshmen were lefl without the help of France, and 
 could do no more barm. The Earl of Northumberland wasdefeated 
 
 once ne. re ami killed. And Scotland had to he quiet, for Henry 
 contrived to get into his power a most important person, no 
 other than the King of Scotland himself. 
 
 JO. All Robert Brace's descendants in the male line had died 
 
 out by this time, and the family of one of his .laughters had been 
 
 called to the throne. This daughter had married a 
 
 The King ^ ^ Sj ,1 ,l ( . lli: ui, the high steward of the kingdom. 
 
 We saw that it wa» customary in those days to sur-
 
 xxxin.] HENRY OF LANCASTER. 333 
 
 name men after their trade or business. Though this was most 
 erally done among the lower orders, it was also sometimes the 
 case in higher ranks, and the lord steward's children and grand- 
 children came to be called Stewart as their family name. This 
 was the beginning of the royal line of the Stewarts, some of 
 whom were afterwards kings of England. 
 
 21. Scotland was in a very miserable condition. The kings 
 were not Btrong enough to keep order, and there were constant 
 tumults, fights, and murders. The king's eldest son had been 
 murdered, and it was thought wise to semi the next son, 
 who was now heir to the kingdom, to be educated in France. 
 But on his way thither some English vessels fell in with his 
 ship, took po session of the young Prince James, and brought 
 him to Eenry. Though England and Scotland were now ai 
 p ce, Eenry would Dot lei the boy go away. He said, in a 
 sort of grim joke, that "if the prince "as to learn French he 
 could learn it quite as well in his courl as in France, for thai he 
 I,,.:. If knew French very well." The Scotch prince very soon 
 after be i tme king through the death of his father, bul even then 
 Henry would nol sel him free. 
 
 22. He did nol treal hini ill, hut gave him an excellent educa- 
 tion, as he had promised, and the young king grew up clever, 
 
 tplished, and good. II" was even a hue poet. After 
 
 I haucer died there had been i ae to take his place. The 
 
 j omen who tried to write | try made verydull work of it. 
 
 ime time after this ; but James of Scotland wrote real poetry, 
 which we may still enjoy reading. W tilfl he was a prisoner in 
 I i he fell in love with an I Ingli h lady, a relation of the 
 
 1 irhomhemades s beautiful poetry. Afteratime 
 
 i to marry this lady. The marriage was performed 
 in i ■ burch in Southwark, close to London Bridge, 
 
 which was then called St. M , and it proved a very 
 
 ,y one. He Went hack tO Sc.llalrl al la t, \\li"U b.6 had 
 
 ! for eighteen year.*, and wat one of the be I 
 
 tie' ii i I. 1 and just, indeed, wo i he that 
 
 the turbulent nobles would nol submil to him; they rebelled, 
 and in.. i i. murdered him, his faithful English wife defending 
 him to thi 
 
 23. After all his anxietie . II m I V. did not li 
 
 • which followed. H< ato rery had h< 
 
 lo terrible lit , He h id all through his r< ign 
 been wiahi o to the Holy Land and fight a Crusade; for 
 
 though i • had long been at an end really, the thought
 
 334 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and the dream of winning back the Lord's sepulchre had not yet 
 died away. It is probable that his conscience stung him some- 
 times for the way in which he had treated his cousin Richard, 
 and that he thought to make amends in that way. There had 
 been a prophecy about him too that he should die in Jerusalem. 
 24. At last one day he was praying in Westminster Abbey 
 before the shrine of Edward the Confessor, when he was seized 
 with a fit. There was a chamber in the abbey, as 
 ■n^v?' there is still, called the Jerusalem Chamber ; because 
 He ° in the days of Richard II. it was hung with tapestry, 
 representing the story of the siege of Jerusalem. It 
 chanced that the sick king was carried into this room. When 
 he came to himself he asked where he was, and on being told 
 that he was in the " Jerusalem Chamber," he exclaimed, " Laud 
 be to the Father of heaven ! for now I know that I shall die in 
 this chamber, according to the prophecy made of me aforesaid, 
 that I should die in Jerusalem." And there indeed he died.
 
 xxxiv.] THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 335 
 
 LECTURE XXXIV.— THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 
 
 Character of Henry V. Lord Cobham aud the Lollards. The war with 
 Prance. Barfleur. Battle of Agincourt. Rouen. Treaty of Troyes. 
 The king's marriage. His death and burial. 
 
 1. Though the Prince of Wales, who now became king as Henry 
 A'., had been wild and dissipated and headstrong, there had always 
 been glimpses of a high and in >l>le nature about him: 
 and everybody was now willing to overlook his • 
 
 youthful follies, and to accept him with - 1 hopes enry 
 
 as th<-ir king. We shall see how thoroughly he altered from 
 this time, as is not uncommon in a man of strong character, 
 
 when, just as he is passing from youth tomanh I, a great crisis 
 
 : fe. All the vigour he had formerly poured into 
 hi- [ and follies he now turned to serious matters, so that 
 
 I ngland never, perhaps, had a more firm, brave, clever, and 
 ing than Harry Madcap, 
 •_'. In the tii -st acts < <\' his n Lm he showed a generous spirit 
 rds those whom his father had regarded with dread and 
 jealousy. The legal heir to the throne, the young His eene- 
 Mortimer, had always been a thorn in the Bide oi rosity. 
 Henry [V., as Harrj Hotspur very well knew. 
 
 " He said he would not ransom Mortimer ; 
 Forbade my tongue to ^p< ->k of Mortimer; 
 Bui I will And iiun when he liet asleep, 
 Ami in his ear I'll holla ' Mortimer; ' 
 Nay, I'll bare a itarling shall b< I hi lit to speak 
 
 hing but Mortimer, and jive il bim 
 To keep bis anger still in motion." 
 
 II nry IV. had kept Mortimer in honourable hut real 
 
 ivity. He wea now a grown young man, and one of the 
 
 n iv? | nMi ■ i to i el him a1 liberty, and show him 
 
 friend hip. Perhaps his long imprisonment and good education 
 
 had made a philo of him, for, though n lea i I from 
 
 ivity, he d em to have w i b< d to be king, but
 
 336 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 remained a faithful friend to Henry all Lis life. Nevertheless, 
 as we shall see, the descendants of the Mortimers came to the 
 throne at last. 
 
 4. Besides setting Mortimer free, Henry was generous to his 
 old enemies the Percjes, who had rebelled and had been so 
 thoroughly defeated by himself and his father. Harry Hotspur's 
 son was restored to his title and estates as Earl of Northumber- 
 land ; nor did the Percies forget this generosity in after times. 
 
 5. Henry even took some steps towards releasing the King of 
 Scotland, whom his father had imprisoned, but they came to 
 nothing. The Scotch perhaps hardly wanted him back, as they 
 were in a most disorderly and tumultuous condition, and the 
 young king, if he were already in love with the beautiful Eng- 
 lish lady, might not be very anxious to return. However that 
 might be, it appears that he and Henry were very good friends, 
 and we find him afterwards helping him in his wars, and follow- 
 ing him to his grave as chief mourner. 
 
 6. The young king also released many other prisoners and 
 published a general pardon. Saving thus done all he could in 
 justice an'! generosity to the living, he proceeded to do what was 
 possible to honour the dead, lie appears to have retained some 
 affection for Richard II., ami fell great remorse for his wretched 
 death. Richard had been buried privately in the country. His 
 body was now brought to London and honourably buried in 
 Westminster Abbey, in a very -lately tomb which he had made 
 for himself while he was still living. There we may see him 
 now lying hand in hand with his good wife Anne of Bohemia, 
 whom he, had so tenderly loved. 
 
 7. In all this Henry showed himself wise and merciful; he 
 w., extremely n . though unhappily his religion took 
 
 the wrong side; he entirely threw himself into the 
 
 . 8 cause of the Roman Church, and against the followers 
 
 of Wycliffe. We saw how Henry I V. disgraced his 
 
 reign by the statute for burning heretics. His son carried out 
 
 the same feeling probibly just a- Saul did as he rode to 
 
 Dama '-us, and " verily believing that he wis doing ( iod service." 
 
 8. Persecution had nol destroyed the Lollards; there were 
 still a great many of them in the country. It was at this time 
 that the Archbishop of Canterbury made some additions to his 
 palace at Lamb th, and imprisoned so many of the poor followers 
 of Wycliffe in a part of th" new buildings that it has ever since 
 
 a called the bollard's Tower. 
 'J. At the head of these persecuted men was a nobleman who
 
 xxxiv 1 THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 337 
 
 had formerly been a friend of the king's, Sir John Old castle, or, 
 as he w»a afterwards called in right of his wife, 
 Lard Cobham. Being a rich and powerful man, he The Lollards 
 was aUle to help and protect the teachers of the Cobhain. 
 Lollards, and the archbishop accordingly made an 
 attack upon him. It was now believed that the Lollards wen? 
 not only heretics in religion (which no doubt they were, accord- 
 ing to the Romish view), but also traitors and rebels against the 
 government. It had already been charged against them that 
 they had helped the peasants in the revolt under Wat Tyler, and 
 they were now accused of being disaffected and ready to rehel 
 if they could. Possibly this might be true about some of them, 
 and was not much to be wondered at, as the poor had still many 
 grievanc « and much injustice to endure ; but it has never been 
 proved thai they did anything wrong. 
 
 Lord Cobham was in the first instance charged with heresy — 
 with denying the doctrine of transubstantiation, and saying that 
 the Pope was Antichrist. He 81 1 very gallantly to his prin- 
 ciples, and was condemned to be burnt, but contrive. 1 to escape. 
 Some time alter this a report was raised thai he had summoned 
 the Lollards to meet him in jreal numbern near London, for the 
 purp m the king and his brothers, who were spend- 
 1 her al one of i he royal palaces at Bltham. 
 
 10. 11k* king heard of the plot, and was quite ready to believe 
 i\ ![•■ it told thai 25,000 rebels would i semble in the fields 
 
 i of London, at St. Giles's. We should be pleased to see a 
 blade ol near " St. Giles's in the Fields" now • al that 
 
 time it '.va- a rural neighbour!] 1 quite oul uf London. London 
 
 . -hut. in with walls and gates. There were. 
 
 e, Aldei Gate, Lud ' late, and many ol hers of winch 
 
 only a n 11 remains. The king ordered all the gates to be 
 
 I, and theu armed men round about those fields and 
 
 himself. Bui no crowd appeared, only about eighty 
 
 men with no leadei ol any importance. Lord Cobb i not 
 
 to be le n ie knows to this day whether he and the 
 
 others ever intended to wine il alL Perhaps they were kept. 
 by hearing of the I irmed men; perhaps no such 
 
 I. 
 
 11. if the unforl eighty w her han 
 hose wli considered t raitora w< and 
 
 the Lord I iptured 
 
 foui found in Wale., brought to 
 
 London, and, being looked on as both traitor and heretic, he was 
 
 z
 
 338 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 burned as well as hanged. " His last words, drowned by the 
 crackling flames, were praise of God. The people wept and 
 prayed with him ; they heard in contemptuous silence the 
 declarations of the priests that Cobham died an enemy of God, 
 and a heretic to the Church." But for the time the Lollards 
 were put down, and forced to hide their opinions and avoid 
 observation as much as they could. 
 
 12. The Church had a triumph in this respect ; but there was 
 another great danger threatening her. Her doctrines were to be 
 believed and defended ; but what about her wealth 1 
 The wealth -pj^ Church was enormously rich. It had been so 
 Church l° n o looked on as a great mark of piety and means 
 of salvation to give lands and money to the Church, 
 to found or enrich abbeys and priories, that by this time a 
 very large part of the country was in the hands of the clergy. 
 Tor example, the Abbey of Westminster alone had vast posses- 
 sions, not only in Westminster itself, but in other places far ami 
 near. It had its orchard where Orchard .Street is now, its 
 pastures and gardens at Long Acre and Covent (Couvent or 
 ( invent) Garden. It owned lands scattered abroad through 
 ninety-seven towns and villages, seventeen hamlets, and 210 
 manors. 
 
 13. Even before Henry IV. <li< d the House of Commons had 
 begun to take great notice of this, and to make calculations as to 
 the quantity of laud poss by the Church. They said that 
 its property was so great that it would suffice to maintain fifteen 
 earls, 1500 knights, and more than 6000 lighting men, and they 
 advised the king to take possession of it. Henry IV. had not 
 followed this advice, but now that he was dead it began to be 
 talked of again. The great Church potentates were in alarm, 
 and in the very beginning of Shakespeare's play of Henry V. we 
 find the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Bishop of Ely con- 
 sidering what tley had better do to save their precious riches. 
 
 14. They had plenty of worldly wisdom. They knew their 
 man very well. Henry, with his high, brave, religious enthu- 
 siasm, had no wish to rob the Church, but with his whole soul 
 he longed for glorious adventures. Though there were some- 
 times truces, the Hundred Years' War was not over yet, and 
 
 there lay fiance still unconquered. The clever 
 
 The war c ] mI ,;hii,"e-n saw that if they could turn his eyes and 
 
 "re^ed" thoughts that way they would be safe. His father, 
 
 too, who had had so much trouble with the turbulent 
 nobles, had advised Henry, as the only way of keeping them
 
 xxxiv.] THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 339 
 
 from raising disturbances at home, to lead them to foreign wars. 
 What did he wish for better ! 
 
 This is what he says of himself, or Shakespeare says for 
 him : — 
 
 " By Jove, I am not covetous for gold, 
 Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost; 
 It yearns me not if nun my garments wear ; 
 Such outward things dwell not in my desires: 
 Hut if it be a sin to covet honour 
 I am the most offending soul alive," 
 
 lie was only too willing to listen to the advice that he should 
 go to war again. The clergy promised him large sums of money 
 to help bis army, the English people rejoiced at the thought 
 of gaining more victories and mure spoils, and the condition of 
 nee was such as to give him every hope of success. 
 10. It is impossible to describe how miserable that country 
 was at this time. The bung, < Iharles, was insane ; the dauphin, 
 h eldest Bon, v. ind wicked; and his 
 
 other nearest i , who ought to have tried to state of 
 
 supply his place, were always quarrelling fiercely 
 among them The principal of these were the Duke of 
 
 !. gundy and 1 E Orleans, who hated each other i 
 
 rhe Duke ol Burgundy ha d the former Duke 
 
 of Orleans (father of the presenl one) to be murdered in the 
 
 [lis party were called the Burgundians, and the 
 
 : fthe Duke ol Orleans were called after bis father-in-law, 
 
 was cleverer than he, the Arm. The Burgundians 
 
 Li I to be friendly with England. The people of Pari 
 
 divided between the two parties; the Lower classes, ami 
 
 the butchers, sided with the Duke of 'Burgundy. 
 
 Murders and uproars went on everywhere, and the miserable 
 
 country was turned almost into a desert, as it' an enemy's army 
 
 had i i it. 
 
 Th e a grand opportunity to the English. Benry said, 
 
 and most likely said it quite sincerely, that he wa called by 
 to punish the wickedness and vices of the Land, and to 
 i and order. When our own wishes Lie very 
 
 strongly in one direction, it is not very hard to persuade our- 
 selves that God's will lies that way too. 
 
 L6. Eenry was for no half in as i '.*•« 1 I'M wan I III.' 
 
 claim to be king of France. If that had been an unrea onable 
 claim even in Edward, in Ihnry V. it was quite prepo terou . 
 mse he himself way not, as wo know, the lawful heir to 
 
 z J
 
 340 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.kct. 
 
 Edward. The English parliament hud accepted Henry IV. as 
 king of England, though he was nut the direct successor, but the 
 English parliament could never make him king of France. It' 
 Edward had any real right, that right must now have descended 
 to Mortimer; though, as he does not seem to have wished to he 
 king of England, still less was he likely to wish to be king of 
 France. 
 
 17. Henry, however, now claimed the throne of France, and 
 he wished to marry the French king's daughter. Some nego- 
 tiations were set on foot, but they led to nothing. 
 
 The House an ,-i t] ie war began again. Just before Henry started 
 
 °.,a °X„ trouble arose in England. Though it lasted but a 
 and the . & B 
 
 Mortimers, short time, and was speedily put an end to, we must 
 not quite pass it over, because in it we see how 
 "coming events cast their shadows before;" the "coining 
 events" being the Wars of the Roses, the great struggle between 
 the two families of York and Lancaster, which was soon to begin. 
 The Duke of York being a younger son of Edward III. than 
 John of Gaunt, had still less claim to the throne than the Lan- 
 caster, but his descendants had now made themselves stronger 
 by the heir of the family, Richard, Earl of Cambridge, marrying 
 a lady of the House of Mortimer, sister to the Mortimer who has 
 been mentioned so often. This Earl of Cambridge now con- 
 spired against King Eenry, with some other nobles, intending 
 to make his brother-in-law king. The plot was discovered, and 
 the conspirators put to death ; but Richard of York and Anne 
 Mortimer had a sou who did not forget his great descent, and 
 whom we shall meel again in due time. 
 
 18. For the present, however, all went well. Henry, with a 
 line army, sailed to France, and laid Biege to the town of 
 
 Earfteur, at the mouth of the Seine. The first tiling 
 
 Henry j^at In; did on landing in France was to give the 
 
 invd es m , lS t gtrict and solemn orders that the peaceable 
 France. , \ . 
 
 inhabitants ol the country should be well treated. 
 
 They were neither to be, robbed, murdered, nor injured in any 
 May, ami this order he. constantly adhered to. Even when his 
 army was in most ueed and privation he, never permitted any- 
 thing to be taken from ile' country people which was not paid 
 la-, thus treating them far better than their own cruel and 
 Si Irish princes did. 
 
 19. After live, weeks Harfleur was taken, but during that time, 
 the English army had suffered so much from disease that it had 
 dwindled down to a very small number. Henry, however, did
 
 xxxiv.] THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 341 
 
 D >t choose to return to England after taking only one town ; he 
 determined to march through Normandy and Picardy to Calais. 
 He had to pass the river Sorame, but on the other side of this 
 river was the great French army, which tried to hinder his 
 ring. At last, however, the English got over, and the two 
 armies confronted each other. The French army was quite six 
 times as large as the English, and it included crowds of those 
 proud, foolish, wicked princes and nobles who made their country 
 so miserable. The English found the country through which 
 they marched was almost a desert, and before they met the 
 enemy they were half starved and in a most wretched plight, 
 
 20. The great battle of Agincourt has been grandly described 
 
 ire. He gives as the picture of the night before the 
 tight : the Freneh were full of boasting and vain- 
 glorious confidence; they were so sure of the victory, 1415 - 
 and of taking Henry prisoner, that they had sent to Agincourt 
 him beforehand about fixing bis ransom. And the 
 princes and lords were Longing for morning, thai they might fall 
 
 on the rick and Btarving English. ••Alas: j r Harry of 
 
 one of them, "he longs not fox the dawning as 
 
 " The p tor condemned English. 
 Like sacrifii ir watchful Si 
 
 Si I pati< ml'. , and inly ruminafa 
 
 'I'll'- i 1 1 1 f i _■ ' - dang< r ; and thi ir feature sad, 
 
 Inv. sting lank I< in ch< i la and war worn coats, 
 Pi. -..'iit'-tli tie in unto the gazing moon 
 many leu ml . 
 
 The English army had ool nearly so many lords and princes 
 French; bul it had a greal many of those itoul English 
 archers of whom we have heard so often. The Freneh nobles 
 despised them, and would hardly admit, any of the lower rani.; 
 into their own hosts; they said France should be defended by 
 gentlemen only. 
 
 21. Ti. French army was crowded up between two thick 
 
 w la, and among newly-ploughed fields; it was autumn-time, 
 
 and the ground was Boaking and muddy. We can imagine how 
 the heavy-armed men and heavy-armed horses would struggleand 
 flounder about. The English archers, on their own acti 
 
 and lightly clad, were as nimble as deer, Bach of them, be ide 
 his go id how. had an axe or a m ice, and. moreover, a sharp stake 
 
 tipped with it which he was to plant in the ground before 
 
 him, | i,;,,. I'reey over again. A. the pi | French
 
 .342 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.wrr. 
 
 knights who scorned the English archers came riding up, the 
 arrows flew among them like hail ; they could not get to close 
 quarters with the archers hecause of the palisade of sharp stakes. 
 The poor horses sank knee-deep in the soft ground. At last the 
 archers, flinging aside their bows, sprang out from behind the 
 palisade, and began to ply their battle-axes, and with such force 
 that an old chronicler says "it seemed as though they were 
 hammering on anvils." 
 
 22. It need hardly he said that King Henry fought like a lion. 
 When he had ridden among his men to cheer them up before 
 the battle he had worn above his helmet a golden crown glitter- 
 ing with jewels. One of the French princes with a great blow 
 shattered the crown, but the good helmet sheltered his head — 
 the very helmet which we may still see above his tomb in West- 
 minster Abbey, dinted with the sword-marks of that French 
 prince. The French nobles fought bravely too, but their 
 bravery was of no avail ; there was no discipline, no rule ; they 
 were all too proud to obey orders, and they were slain in 
 crowds. 
 
 23. Towards the end of the fight, when the English were 
 making a great many prisoners, a terrible mistake occurred. A 
 loud noise was heard in the rear of the French, and those who 
 were retreating seemed to be rallying again. Henry supposed 
 that great reinforcements hud arrived, and gave orders that all 
 the prisoners should be put to death ; " for which act," says 
 Baker, "though done in cold blood, yet the king could not justly 
 be taxed with cruelty, seeing the number of prisoners was more 
 than his own soldiers, and nothing could give assurance of safety 
 but their slaughter." It was soon found, however, that the noise 
 was only caused by some peasants coming to plunder, and Henry 
 at once put an end to the massacre. 
 
 24. Thus this great battle was won ; it was a splendid victory, 
 and raised the fame and spirit of the English higher than ever, 
 though no special result followed from it. Henry, with his 
 grave, religions spirit, gave all the glory to God, and forbade any 
 one of his army to boast of their brave deeds, "or take that 
 praise from God which is Bis only." 
 
 25. The slaughter of the French nobility and gentry in this 
 fight was terrible. Besides many royal princes and great noble- 
 men, nearly 8000 men of gentle blood were killed. Many others, 
 among them the Duke of Orleans, were made prisoners. Henry 
 was kind and courteous to the duke ; he went himself to con- 
 sole him and bid him be of good cheer, saying, " If God has
 
 xxxir.] THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 343 
 
 given mo grace to win this victory, I acknowledge that it is 
 through no merit of my own;" but he added, "I believe that 
 God has willed that the French should be punished, and if what 
 I have heard be true, no wonder at it; for they tell me that 
 never were seen such a disorder, such a license of wickedness, 
 such debauchery, such bad vices as now reign in France. It is 
 pitiful and horrible to hear it all ; and, certes, the wrath of the 
 Lord must have been awakened." 
 
 gaining this grand victory Henry was obliged to 
 
 return to England, for he was in want both of men and money. 
 
 The English people welcomed him with proud exultation; when 
 
 hi- >hi|> arrived at Dover they rushed into the sea to meet their 
 
 hero, and carried him to the shore on their shoulders. At every 
 
 town f>n the road they poured out in thousands to see him and 
 
 do him honour. He did not pass Canterbury without visiting 
 
 Beckett shrine, and making offerings there. "When he arrived at 
 
 kheath half London came forth to meet him, headed by the 
 
 immons, the clergy, the mayor, and the aldermen. 
 
 here such triumph and joy. Hut he still gave all the 
 
 glory to < rod, 
 
 " Being free from vainness and self-gloriou* pride." 
 
 And a grand service was held in Westminster Abbey to render 
 thank- for the victory. 
 
 27. The beautiful abbey which Henry 111. had begun was 
 ; finished yet. [ndeed, for the last hundred years it. had 
 
 I d touched; but Henry V. loved it, and 
 
 in the midst of all his wars and campaigns be West - 
 
 , , , minster 
 
 found time to care for it. II" gave orders thai the Abbey. 
 works should go on, and in his daya the stately 
 
 e it, was nearly finished. The architect 
 ither than Richard Whittington, "Lord Mayor of London 
 n." 
 
 . Though Hem [ained the battle of Agincourt, he was 
 
 Rtili vet from being king of France, [t was not Long 
 
 before he invaded the country again, and resolutely 
 
 111" 
 
 in the conquest of Normandy. He tried to make „ . 
 
 . 1 \- ii ii i.i Conquest of 
 
 the Normans remember bow nearly be and they were N ornian dy 
 
 ited, and that he and lii- nobles were d< scended 
 
 from Norman fon ; he talked to them about the old 
 
 Northmen, who were the ancestors of both. But it was 
 
 not of much use. The Northmen in England were Engli bmen 
 
 now, and the Northmen in France, Frenchmen, They were
 
 344 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lew. 
 
 enemies, not friends. Every part of Normandy that he con- 
 quered Eenry treated very well; indeed, they had not heen so 
 peaceable and so safe for a long time, but still they could not 
 Dear to be governed by a foreigner. 
 
 29. After taking a great many places in Normandy, Henry at last 
 besieged its capital, Rouen, a very large and beautiful city, which 
 
 made a valorous defence. The French held out 
 
 1418 - obstinately, till they were almost starving, and Henry 
 
 Siege of wou ],i mos t likely never have succeeded, had it not 
 
 been for the terrible dissensions and civil wars of the 
 
 French nation itself. The armies that ought to have come to the 
 
 relief of Rouen were employed in fighting one another, and at 
 
 last Henry gained possession of the city, but not till the garrison 
 
 had eaten their horses and dogs, and many thousands had died 
 
 of hunger and disease. 
 
 30. When the French found that Rouen was lost, and the 
 whole of Normandy in the power of the English, it seemed as 
 if the quarrels and discords among themselves must cease, and 
 they would all join heart and soul against the invaders. There 
 was some attempt at making peace with the English, and Henry 
 again demanded the hand of the French princess, but it came to 
 nothing as yet. The Duke of Burgundy, who had hitherto 
 somewhat favoured Ebgland, now appeared to forsake the 
 English cause, ami made a kind of peace with the dauphin, 
 but it was only a hollow peace. The wicked and treacherous 
 dauphin contrived to get the Duke of Burgundy into his power. 
 They had agreed t" meet in the middle of a bridge at Montereau, 
 between strong barricades, and each of them attended by only 
 ten men. The dauphin and his followers had 8W( rn the most 
 solemn oaths that they meant everything fair and honourable, 
 and that no evil should befall the duke. Nevertheless, no sooner 
 was he within the empty space, and shut off from the rest of his 
 people, than one of the dauphin's men struck him a deadly 
 blow with an axe ; the rest then set on him and murdered him, 
 killing some and imprisoning others of his ten men. 
 
 :)1. This horrible murder put an end to the hopes of France. 
 The murdered duke's son. who succeeded to all his father's great 
 titles, power, and possessions, ca<t off all thought of peace with 
 the dauphin, took part with Henry and the English at once, and 
 there was no one left to resist. The poor insane king, who had 
 intervals of reason sometimes, and the queen were much under 
 the influence of theDuke of Burgundy ; besides which, the queen 
 hated her son, the dauphin, and loved her daughter Tvathcrine,
 
 xxxiv] THE CONQUEST OF FRANCE. 345 
 
 the princess whom Henry wished to marry. Xow, 
 therefore, a peace was really made, which is called 1420 
 the Treat; of Troyes. The fair youny princess was T I eat y of 
 given to Henry at last, and they were married in 
 
 if the beautiful churches of that city. Henry waa declared 
 nt of Franc- as Long as the king lived, and when he died 
 then Henry was to be what he had claimed all along, King of 
 Franc. • in hi- stead. 
 
 '■')-. Now In- ..nee more returned to England, with the beauti- 
 ful wife whom he bad won by bis side. < )nce more he was 
 Lved witli enthusiastic joy and triumph. The new queen was 
 crowned in Westminster A.bbey, and by and bye a son was ln.ni 
 t<> hiii). who was to inherit all his glories. One can hardly fancy 
 a prouder position. The .-- 1 • 1 • • 1 1 - 1 i > 1 young warrior, so noble, so 
 famous, beloved and honoured King of England, soon to be King 
 
 of Franc- also, and. as In- hoped, to reston ler, religion, and 
 
 e t.. that lair hut unhappy country ; with a wife whom he 
 
 ; i. and a .s<>n to bear his name. I),, was Put thirty-three 
 
 i ; ami now, all unexpectedly, the end came. 
 
 .';:'.. I!.- had returned to France, where there was still fighting 
 
 and it could ie. t !..• supposed thai the dauphin 
 
 ■ down quietly under the Loss of his 
 kingdom. It was a v.-rv hot summer. Henry was l422 - 
 his army to Bupporl his allies in Burgundy, Hcnrv° 
 i with sudden illness, and knew 
 
 he WU to die. IP- rind a- bravely as he had lived, and as 
 
 piously. Ih gave tie- beat advice to his brothers and coun ellors, 
 comforted them with kind and calm words, ami charged them to 
 Faithful t<. his wit'.- ami child. Sobbing ami weeping, they 
 promised /ill he asked, Then he desired the seven penitential 
 1' read t.. him. When tin- reader i ame !■> the w 
 
 in the fifty first Psalm, " Build thou tic- walls of Jeru alem," 
 
 topped him and said that he had always intended t 
 on .i i'iu ade and i- ■ ire the Holy City, when once he had 
 hlished peace and good order in France (a- bis father had 
 intended). Soon after he exclaimed, " My part is with my 
 I . d Christ." " Int.. Thy hands I commend my .pin' 
 med it ;" and so died. 
 .">l. Alt-r h death thro cities vied with each other f«>r 
 
 the glory of his burial— Paris, Rouen, and Westminster. I 
 rybody knew how he had loved W< ti er Abbey, and it 
 decided that he should he buried there. \' was the grandesl 
 ral that had i d l.m.wu. King Jai i land,
 
 346 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot, 
 
 who had been with him in France, followed him to his grave as 
 chief mourner. He had chosen the place for his tomb himself , 
 just behind the shrine of Edward the Confessor. It is more 
 than a tomb, it is a separate little chapel, ornamented with 
 sculpture and statues, and built in the shape of his initial letter 
 H. His image was made of English oak, and covered with 
 silver ; the head was of solid silver. All the silver is gone now ; 
 but the oaken figure is still to be seen ; above it on a bar are his 
 dinted helmet, his shield, and his saddle. 
 
 35. Thus this short glorious reign ended, like a dream, or like a 
 tale that is told. The next reign, that of Henry's son, was long, 
 inglorious, and melancholy. Ad Henry's great victories, all his 
 great schemes, went for nothing ; we shall have to see all his work 
 
 ' undone. And though we can hardly help feeling some English 
 pride as we read of his and his people's splendid deeds, we ought 
 not to be sorry that it ended as it did. Henry had no right to 
 the French crown, and England had no right to govern France. 
 In these days it would be thought very wicked for one nation to 
 make war on another for any such reason. Though Henry must 
 not be judged as we should judge a king who acted as he 
 did in our own days, neither must it be regretted that all his 
 great conquests were lost, and his great hopes fell to the ground. 
 Not only for the sake of France, but for the sake of England 
 too, it was best. 
 
 36. It has been remarked before, as the English kings gradually 
 lost bit by bit of their possessions in France, that it was much 
 for the interest of England that they did so. Had it ever come 
 to pass that France and England should be really governed by 
 one king, even though that king had been an Englishman, there 
 is no doubt that Finland, which is much (he smaller of the two, 
 and cut off by the sea from the rest of Europe, would have 
 become a mere province of France. The king must have prin- 
 cipally lived in France, as Henry II. and Richard I. did, instead 
 of living in and caring most for England ; and England would 
 never have developed her own special character, or taken her own 
 great place in the world. So though we shall soon have to hear 
 of many disasters and losses to the English, we may take heart 
 and look on them as "blessings in disguise."
 
 FRANCE DURING THE FRENCH WARS 
 
 Jo fact p 346 
 
 , • : ■ ibhthmmi 
 
 I.* f i it Ion MioiioM/in & C*
 
 xxxv.] FRANCE RECOVERS. 347 
 
 LECTURE XXXV.— FRANCE RECOVERS. 
 
 Henry VI. The Dukes of Bedford and Gloucester. Cardinal Beaufort. 
 The Mail of Orleans. Coronation of Charles VII. of France. Death 
 of the .Maid. 
 
 1. Tin: 5 rang prince, 80S "f Henry V. ami Katherine of France, 
 was only nine months old when his father died. The govern- 
 ment would therefore naturally fall into tin- hands 
 
 1422 
 
 of his uncles, tie' lasl king's brothers. There were _ ' 
 
 i, the Duke of Bedford and the Duke of 
 Glou The Duke of Bedford was the same as the young 
 
 Prince John who fought in the Battle of Shrewsbury, 
 in the days of Benry I V., and "1' whom we read in 
 Shah lay. He seems to have been his father's favourite, 
 
 and was now grown to In- a very wise and clever man. His 
 
 brother, Henry V., placed mfidence in him, ami when he 
 
 ■ • ippointed him to be Regenl of France, giving him 
 much good advice as to how he was to proceed. The other 
 brother, Humphrey, was a turbulent, ambitious, and self) h 
 prince, who did a greal deal <>t" mischief as Long as hi' lived. 
 Though hi- brother H< i rj ippointed him to I"- Regenl "i England, 
 he had warned him with In- dyin th never t" Bel his own 
 
 selfish in ibovetho e ol his country; and the Engli h parlia- 
 
 ment, perhaj tfing already the orl of man Glot was, 
 
 though 1 it better that England should he governed by a council. 
 Still he was called 1 'i te< I »r, and when his brother, the Duke of 
 Bedford, was away in France, he naturally had a greal deal of 
 ind influence. He was 1 i k <** I by the people, and was 
 called, one hardly knows why, the " Good Duki Humphrey." 
 
 inly had one g I poinl about him, which was thai he 
 
 and literature ; he collected a very beautiful Library, 
 and housed to invite fon to] -id, and employ 
 
 them to translate hunks for him. 
 
 •_!. Though at. tin- time there were, no very clever Engli h 
 writers, like Chancer or William Langlande, people were growing
 
 348 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 more and more fond of reading. All Looks were still in "manu- 
 script," written out by the hand, and about this period it is said that 
 there is a great change in the appearance of these manuscripts. 
 The old ones were very beautifully written ; the scribe, or writer, 
 took his time ; the pages were often exquisitely ornamented, 
 and every letter perfectly formed. There were not very many 
 books then, nor, indeed, could there be, when they were pro- 
 duced at this rate. But now that so many people wanted to read 
 books, the scribes had to hurry more, and to get a great many 
 more written. They began to write a sort of running hand ; not 
 half so beautiful to look at, and not always very easy to read ; 
 but by this means books grew more plentiful. This is again 
 rather like "coming events casting their shadows before." Duke 
 Humphrey afterwards presented his fine library to the University 
 of Oxford. 
 
 3. Besides the two dukes, Henry V.'s brothers, there was 
 another very powerful man, his uncle, Cardinal Beau tort, who 
 
 Was Bishop of Winchester. He was enormously 
 Cardinal ^.^ an( i am bitious. He and the Duke of Gloucester 
 
 were continually quarrelling and striving for the 
 mastery, and kept England in a constant state of disquiet. The 
 French historians give him a very bad character; one of them 
 calls him plainly "a Satan," though no longer "the old Satan, 
 shameful and outcast, but a Satan win. is acknowledged, decent, 
 respectable, and rich ; sitting on a bishop's throne." 
 
 4. Almost directly after the death of Henry V. the unfor- 
 tunate King of France died also. The, Treaty of Troyes had 
 appointed that when this happened Henry V. was to succeed 
 him as King of fiance. But am Henry was already dead, the 
 right, such as it was, descended to his little, son, who was 
 
 irilingly called King of France. How things might have 
 
 turned out had Heury V. lived we cannot tell, hut probably, 
 
 even then, tic dauphin would have made some resistance. As it 
 
 was. he at once came forward with his partisans, and declared 
 
 himself King of France, under the name of Charles 
 
 The French yjj. And though t he Treaty of Troyes had been 
 
 war breaks ^ ed u , hl , . , , lal peace » t] 10 war broke out 
 
 out afresh. r * ± 
 
 an. 
 
 5. The Scotch were, as usual, allies of the French. Although 
 their king had been a prisoner, and in Henry V.'s power, 
 they had fought on the French side even during his reign, and 
 
 e of the Scotch noblee had received great titles and honours 
 in France. The Scotch, indeed, were so brave and so accustomed
 
 xxxv.] FRANCE RECOVERS. 349 
 
 to fighting the English, that it began to be said " they were the 
 
 only antidotes to the English," and the French were glad to 
 
 have as many Scotch soldiers as possible in their armies. To put 
 
 a stop to this, the Duke of Bedford at last decided to set the 
 
 King of Scotland free, on his paying a ransom and promising to 
 
 keep peace towards England. So after nineteen years' absence 
 
 from his country King James Stuart ami his beloved English 
 
 went to Scotland, where he did his best to keep his promise, 
 
 though be could not always hinder his unruly subjects from 
 
 iting the English. 
 
 [he Duke of Bedford had no easy task. The most im- 
 
 1 1 , t pie< wlvice his brother Henry had given him, 
 
 the affairs ol France, was to keep up the friendship 
 
 with the Duke of Burgundy. He had always endeavoured to do 
 
 this, and had. indeed, married the sister of the duke; hut his 
 
 ther, tie- Duke of Gloucester, real offence to the Duke 
 
 , f Burgundy by marrying a very rich lady, who was already 
 
 married to a cousin of bia own, and whose heir lie boped to he 
 
 himself. After this it cost tie' Duke of Bedford a greal deal of 
 
 trouble to maintain the alliance with Burgundy. 
 
 7. (in the whole, however, the En ill kept the upper 
 
 hand in France. There was another great battle and victory at 
 
 Verneuil, which was thought almo I kgincourt. lie' 
 
 dauphin bad very huh- power in any part ..i France, except south 
 
 river Loire. The English now longed to press bej 
 
 iait before they could venture to do t 
 
 i l oi On i rong and * ."• 
 
 i io \i Tim siege of 
 
 imp< :y which was huill upon it. Ami now () t d ° s 
 
 me need one ol the mosl famous sieges in history, 
 
 aie! ' romantic 
 
 li were ool numerous enough to surround this 
 
 • utirely ; bul they buill a ui ng foi ts 
 
 ind it, which could ov< riot k and protect 
 
 Some of i be mo t Famous warrior,; 
 
 of En ind ithered round the city ; the head ol all •' 
 
 Ltilbot. Ah tli 
 
 lied ; bul little by little the 
 
 id. They wi re finishing their Ibrtiti 
 
 and il s< em on they would i ncl< e the wh 
 
 could li" brought in. Tien il would 
 
 n ; aiel if fell the 
 
 of the south of Fraj 
 
 wen north.
 
 350 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 9. A French array under the Count de Clermont was sent to 
 help the city, and to cut off the supplies of the English, so as to 
 turn the tables against them, and starve them out if possible. 
 The Duke of Bedford, on his part, was sending relief to tho 
 English camp; both artillery and food. The food was principally 
 fish, as it was now Lent, and no one dared eat any meat. Of 
 course there were troops to protect the waggons of provisions. 
 Clermont's army, which was coming to help Orleans, fell upon 
 this company of English, and a fight took place, in which tho 
 French and their Scotch allies were defeated and driven off. 
 This little light was called the Battle of the Herrings; they say 
 there were more herrings strewed about the field than there were 
 dead soldiers. 
 
 10. Though it did not sound very serious, the defeat caused 
 much discouragement in the city. Almost all the leaders went 
 
 away in despair ; the Count de Clermont and his 
 
 Discourage- arm y ma ,_i e no more attempts to rescue Orleans; they 
 
 French, retreated. All the great men who were in the oily 
 
 left it now, while they could still escape ; the 
 
 Admiral of France, the chancellor, even the archbishop and the 
 
 bishop, "thinking it a pity that such eminent men should be 
 
 taken by the English," says the French historian. Everything 
 
 seemed to show that the city would soon fall, and with it all tho 
 
 hopes of France. Where could they look for help 1 
 
 11. We have seen the terrible condition in which France was. 
 Henry V. believed that he was commissioned by God to punish 
 its vices, and restore religion, order, and justice. But though he 
 had won such great victories, he had not made the people better 
 or happier. Wherever one looked there was nothing but cruelty 
 and violence, robbery and starvai ion. All the princes who ought 
 to have protected, helped, and guided the people, led the armies, 
 and driven away the foreign invaders, were selfish, half-hearted, 
 or treacherous. Some had taken the part of the English, and 
 fought against their own king; others when they saw danger 
 fled away, leaving the helpless and poor to suffer as they could. 
 All were envious of each other ; and even those who were brave 
 would not act together, or submit to any order or authority but 
 their own proud will. The only hope for them would have 
 seemed to be that some brave, great leader, a valiant king of men 
 like Henry V., whom all must have honoured and obeyed, could 
 have stood forth, won their trust, and brought order and 
 discipline, confidence and enthusiasm, into those disorderly and 
 disheartened troops.
 
 xxxv.] FRANCE RECOVERS. 351 
 
 12. And where was such a leader to he found 1 ? It was not 
 the king, not one of the royal princes, not one of the wealthy 
 ii"Ues of France, whose hearts were so full of pride 
 
 and selfishness ; hut a poor girl, a poor peasant child, T -J e "^ ew 
 who could neither read nor write, who knew nothing 
 hut how to spin and sew, who hud nothing hut her own pure 
 heart, it was she who at last rose up and saved her country, 
 which none else could save. There is no story in all the long 
 history of the world mure strange and beautiful than the story 
 of the Maid of Orleans. 
 
 13. Sin- was born in a wild and woody country on the "borders 
 of Lorraine and Champagne. Her father, Jacques Dare, was a 
 poor labourer. His little daughter Joan it Jeanne 
 
 was hnd up like any other poor man's child; hut 
 
 in understand either the. maiden or her story, we 
 
 V a little, if we can, the world she lived in, and 
 
 how different it was from our world. When she was taken to 
 
 I ountry church on Sundays and holidays she would, 
 
 don: 'ii tie- wall tie- images of crowned saints and 
 
 , "f Chri t and tie- Virgin Mary. They might be very 
 
 i painted, bul to the poor -.ilia-' i pie they would seem 
 
 I 1 and glorious; imr would they be looked on as mere 
 
 Jeanne ami all the others in the church thought they 
 wen- actually like the real saints and in heaven, and 
 
 would kneel and pray before them without a moment's doubl 
 .Muld 1 n :•. [f 1 he world Beemed cold 
 
 ami bleak, tin- poor col ide ami hare, ami men were ro 
 
 and >le, they would like to think of tb<' happy, golden 
 
 world, where their friends the saints sate in glory, with a kind 
 thought of pity for them and their troubles. Jeanne loved going 
 to church above all other thin 
 
 11. But when Bhe walked in the great oak fori I aeai ber 
 
 home she would have a \i -ioiiary World about lei' there I"". 
 
 Whi should onl\ »ee I l streams, and gra ami 
 
 and might hilt fancy from their beauty ami brightn 
 that they mu t In- alp..' and happy in a way of their own, >■■ 
 body then thought that there were fane, and wood-spirits. In 
 
 [and, indeed, if was believed that bhe elves and fairies had 
 been driven away by priests ami friai , ami that, that was the 
 
 ■•ii they could no longer he seen, a they a ed to he. dancing 
 
 in bhe green meadows, In the fore I where Jeanne Lived the 
 
 bo drive the fairies away boo \ he came bo say a mass 
 
 every year beside tl unite fountain, and under a great tree,
 
 3.->2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lecr 
 
 on which tin- children would hang garlands to please the " ladies,'' 
 as they called them. The priests, like everybody else, believed in 
 the fairies, but as the talcs of them liail come down from the old 
 heathen times they considered them unchristian, and that they 
 ought to be banished. 
 
 13. Thus these people did really and truly seem to live in two 
 worlds, the visible and the invisible; and though the common- 
 place, the busy, and the dull would half forget the invisible 
 world, the gentle, and quiet, and thoughtful ones would live in 
 it more than in the visible. Jeanne, besides being a good and 
 pious girl, was full of poetry and imagination; when she was not 
 sewing and spinning by her mother's side she loved dearly to go 
 and pray in the quiet church where the saints were, or to wander 
 in the woods, feeding the wild birds and listening to the church 
 bells. 
 
 16. As she was growing up, this peaceful, visionary life was 
 disturbed by the same miseries which disturbed the rest of the 
 eountry. Sometimes poor fugitives who had been driven out of 
 their homes by the war came through the village ; sometimes her 
 own people had to flee, and when they came back would find 
 everything destroyed or burnt. Thus she began to think about 
 the war and her unhappy coun'ry, and her whole heart was filled 
 with pity and sorrow. She did what she could to help the suf- 
 ferers; when the poor refugees came by she gave; them up her 
 own bed, and went to sleep in the barn. She prayed and fasted; 
 and as she brooded over these gad things, and longed to do more, 
 the seemed to be lifted out of herself and the little world about 
 
 her The saints seemed to come nearer to her; she 
 Her visions. began , M ,,.,, bright lights and to hear strange voices 
 which no one else could see or hear. From out of the bright 
 light a uoble figure with shining wings spoke, and told her it was 
 who was to help the King of France, and to give him back 
 his kingdom. The poor child was frightened ; she was now 
 seventeen or eighteen years old ; she said she knew nothing about 
 riding on horseback, or Leading soldiers. But as time went on 
 she saw more and more visions, heard more and more voices, all 
 bidding her rise and rescue ber country. 
 
 17. No one believed her at first ; her father and mother were 
 angry, and forbade her Leaving home; they even tried to marry 
 her to an honest man of the village. But the impulse was too 
 
 ig ; she felt that she must go. At last she persuaded an old 
 village wheelwright, her uncle, to take her to the nearest town, 
 where she would find soldiers and a captain, who would send her
 
 x.cxv.] FRANCE RECOVERS. 353 
 
 to the dauphin. The captain was greatly puzzled when he saw 
 this village girl arrive, and heard her say that the Lord had sent 
 her to the aid of the dauphin. He was quite ready to think 
 there was something supernatural in the matter, hut he was by 
 no mean* sure that it might not he a work of the devil instead 
 of the saints ; for besides believing in the agency of the invisible 
 saints and angels, every one believed also quite as firmly in the 
 power of evil spirits, wizards, and witches ; and to the end of her 
 life half the world believed that poor Jeanne Dare was a 
 sorceress inspired by the devil. The parish priest was sent for 
 to sprinkle holy water, and to drive away the evil spirit if there 
 one. 
 
 18. Bui Jeanne was bo gentle, so modest, and so firm in declar- 
 ing thai she was sent by God that people began to believe in her. 
 
 tain decided he W)uld send her to the king, or the dauphin, 
 as she called him, for be had not yet been crowned. She was 
 
 led in armour, and five or six armed men were appointed to 
 attend her, though they did not know what to think about it, and 
 were half afraid she might be a witch after all. but sin 
 t>) pray at every church she passed, and at last she arrived safely 
 at the French court. When she saw the king, whom she recog- 
 
 i at once among the crowd of courtiers, she knelt down before 
 him, saying, "Gentle dauphin, I am called Jeanne the Maid. 
 The Kin'.- of hi ■ ad I i tell you by me that you shall be 
 
 ui'l crowned in the city of Reims." If was in Reims 
 1 'I that all the kings of France were crowned, and the 
 
 French people thou much of that sacred city as tie'. English 
 
 did of Westminster Abbey, 
 
 19. Whether Charles believed in her Divine inspiration or not, 
 me i as if there were no other way of saving Orleans, and 
 
 'hat, tin- lasl de perate chance had better be tried, Bui before 
 that it. should be inquired into oi oe more whether Bhe might not 
 1 by the devil, instead of by God. Four or five 
 bish< mined hex this time, but they could find nothing 
 
 her. When they di ired that she would show a sign i<> 
 prove thai God he laid, " My sign will be torai e 
 
 the E Orleai Every one in the whole regi leclared 
 
 that ■; the defenders of Orleans had heard that a 
 
 miraculo [in was coming to help them, and sent earnestly 
 
 resting for her aid. 
 
 ■_'". At. la-; i dlowed to go. Bhe rode forth, no Longer 
 
 lik>' a poor peasant girl, but folly clad in beautiful white armour, 
 mounted on a splendid black hoi i . and bearis j a wred sword, 
 
 A A
 
 .-354 LECTURKS ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 called the sword of St. Katherine, which it was said she had 
 miraculously discovered in the church. Before her was carried a 
 white standard, on which was the picture of God holding the 
 world in his hands, and two angels, each with a lily-flower. 
 
 It is easy to imagine what an effect this wonderful sight 
 would produce both on friend and foe. The discouraged 
 French roused up suddenly to hope and confidence. Here Avas 
 this beautiful girl, this beautiful saint sent expressly by God, to 
 lead them to victory ; and if God were for them, who could be 
 against them 1 } As she marched to Orleans, followed by her troop 
 of soldiers, she had an altar set up in the open air, and they all 
 received the sacrament. These wild, fierce men, who would 
 obey no one else, would have followed the Maid to the end of 
 the world. 
 
 21. The English, on the other hand, lost heart. They, too, 
 believed Jeanne was miraculously inspired. If it were God 
 fighting against them what could they do? But in their hearts 
 many of them thought she was a witch and led by the devil. 
 This seemed more terrible still. They were ready enough to 
 fight against men — against the Frenchmen whom they had 
 beaten so often ; but how could they resist the spells of a 
 sorceress ] 
 
 22. It was no wonder that it all ended as it did. When 
 Jeanne led the French soldiers against the hesiegers, the English, 
 
 brave as they were, were terrified; they began to see 
 1429. The visions too. Sometimes they saw white butterflies 
 Orleans 68 buttering around her sacred banner ; sometimes they 
 saw the saints or Michael the Archangel among her 
 troops. The siege of Orleans had lasted seven months ; in ten 
 days all the English forts were in the hands of the French, and 
 the city was free. It was on a Sunday morning that the Eng- 
 lish retreated. The Maiden caused an altar to be raised in the 
 plain, and before the enemy was well out of sight the rescued 
 people were kneeling around it, giving God thanks. 
 
 23. Thus Jeanne had given the "sign" she had promised, and 
 Orleans was delivered. Now she turned to the great work she 
 had at heart — the coronation of the dauphin. It was a long 
 journey to Ileims, and a great part of the country through which 
 they must pass was in the hands of the English or the Burgun- 
 dians. But the French knew no fears now; they crowded 
 around the Maid ; always more and more of them followed her 
 standard as she led the king to Reims. Wherever they went 
 they were successful. They took one town after another — even
 
 xxxv.] FRANCE RECOVERS. 355 
 
 Troves, where Henry V. had heen married ; they 
 defeated the English in the battle of Patay ; at last Cor f n t a £ on 
 they reached Reims, and in its venerable cathedral dauphin. 
 Charles was anointed, crowned, and consecrated 
 King of France. 
 
 On that jdorious dav the Maiden fe-lt that her work was done. 
 She knelt, weeping, before the king, saying, " Oh, gentle king, 
 the pleasure of the Lord is accomplished." And now she longed 
 to go again to her humhle cottage home, to her brothers and 
 her sister, who would be so rejoiced to see her return. But this 
 not to be the end. 
 
 24. it was quite true that her work was done. In the eyes 
 of all the people the consecration and holy anointing made 
 Charles king in a waj he had never been before. His rival. 
 the young y V., the poor child who was still called 
 
 of France, bad no chance now. lie had not even been 
 
 • as Bang of England, at Westminster. When 
 
 • to 1' terwards to be crowned King of 
 France the ceremony seemed a mere empty form. The true king 
 
 i already been con -■ crato d al Reims. 
 
 25. [t would have been happy for poor Jeanne had she heen 
 
 ■ back i o her. pi let tillage home, dp till this time 
 had clearly known what she had to do, and the "void 
 which sic- thought she heard had been clear and distinct. But 
 : had no such certainty aa to what she ought to do next, 
 
 and rew confused and contradictory. Sometimes 
 
 i , instead of . there w i - failure in what Bhe attempted, 
 
 and the soldiers bej in to lose faith in her. At last, while, 
 endeavouring to defend a city which was besieged by tie' Bur 
 gundian p • iken prisoner. 
 
 26. The re t of her hist on i a ad one, and utterly disgrace 
 ful to all who were concerned in it, except to the Maid herself. 
 She land bandied about from one to another, 
 
 till the Dukeof Burgundy gave herintothe hands of T1 [° lk ™;J id 
 the English at Rouen, Whether the Duke of Bedford prisoner. 
 and the ret! thought her a orcen or not, they at 
 
 • knew thai he had been their most Bucce ful enemy, and 
 that tley owed the ruin of their can e to her. She was chai 
 with heresy and sorcery, and brought up before a council ol the 
 inquisition. A French bi hop wa at the head of the tribunal, 
 
 and oiler French churchmen took part, in her trial I con 
 
 damnation, but they were entirely under the influence of I 
 dinal Beaufort and the English. 
 
 A A 2
 
 356 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [iect. 
 
 27. The cruel and cowardly dauphin whom she had made 
 king never stirred a finger to help her. At last, after a long 
 trial, in which every effort was made to cause her to confess that 
 she had been instigated by the devil, and not by the saints, in 
 which she was persecuted, tormented, and terrified in every 
 manner, she was declared guilty of heresy, handed over to the 
 civil power, and burned alive in the market-place of Rouen. 
 With her dying breath she spoke in defence of the honour of 
 
 her king; she bore testimony once more to the 
 M? *' . " voices " that God had sent her ; and calling on the 
 er ea ' name of Jesus, and pressing a rough cross to her 
 breast, she died — noble, pure, and saintlike as she had lived. 
 
 28. In the play of Henry VI., Part I., we find a very coarse 
 and false description of the Maid of Orleans, or La Pucelle, as 
 she is called, which no doubt shows the common idea which the 
 English had of her. It is some satisfaction to know that Shake- 
 speare did not write that play, though it generally goes under his 
 name.
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IN ENGLAND. 357 
 
 LECTURE XXXVI.— LOSS OF FRANCE AND TROUBLES 
 
 IN ENGLAND. 
 
 End of the Hundred Yeara 1 War. Margaret of Aniou. Death of Glouces- 
 tei ffblk. Cade's revolt The principal actors in the Wars of 
 
 the Roses. 
 
 1. The English were none the better for the murder (we can call 
 it by no other name) of the Maid of Orleans. After her death 
 their affairs in France wenl on as badly as possible j there were 
 no more famous b i ■ - : both countries were nearly 
 
 ed : bul the French gradually gained ground, 
 and the English lost. The Duke of Bedford seemed f h r e ° F ™ s u s c S; f 
 almosi the only man who could do any good either 
 in England or France, and everything always went wrong in 
 whichi ver country he was absenl from ; but at lasl be died, and 
 all the ; I nglish in France 'li<''l with him. The 
 
 Duki .! Burgundy, who was their most important and powerful 
 
 ally, but win. had begun to i I in hi i friendship of lair, now at 
 
 di'l what was In- plain duty, broke with the English and 
 
 1 with bis own country. 
 
 2. i however, be would make peace with Charles, who 
 
 the dauphin who bad murdered the duke's 
 
 ; m the bridge of Monten au, be forced him to bumble hira- 
 
 iii the « 1 r i - 1- f<>r that wicked act, and make what, amends he 
 
 Id. II . thai ai that time be was very 
 
 . ded by evil counsellors, tie ■•■ it t" found a 
 
 chapel and a convent, and to set up a stone cro in the middle 
 
 I be I '''an of I ting 1 be king, we i 
 
 I t.. kneel down before the duke, praying his mercy ha- the 
 
 ler. I be 'Ink' .. n appeased, and the peace waa made. 
 
 et that there wa □ i more hope for tin- Engli b, tho 
 
 they would nol »t a long time yet. There were two 
 
 ■. 1 1' < opposed ■ i- :i "i her about this 
 
 i • i i . i l , Parting in 
 
 matl r. Dne Bide wi hed to make peace, an<i to England 
 ■ wh il ' 1 c tuld ; the he id ol thi i party 
 
 1 rdinal Beaufort, the Bishop of Winchester. The other 
 for fighting on, and itill tryin ; to gel all th it I
 
 338 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 had ever hoped for in the victorious days of Henry V. The head 
 of the war party was the proud, ambitious Duke of Gloucester. 
 
 4. The young king, meanwhile, had grown into a man, hut a 
 very different man from his father or any of his family. He was 
 
 very religious ; indeed, after his death he was looked 
 of the king on as a ^ mos t a saint; hut he was weak-minded, and 
 
 at times quite imhecilo (this was attributed to his 
 descent from the poor mad King of France). Every writer gives 
 just the same impression of him ; perhaps the best description is 
 this, given by Baker. " He was tall of stature, spare and slender 
 of body, of a comely countenance, and all parts well proportioned. 
 For endowments of mind, he had virtues enough to make him a 
 saint, but not to make him a god, as kings are said to be gods. . . 
 He was not sensible of what the world calls honour, accounting 
 the greatest honour to consist in humility. His greatest im- 
 perfection was that he had in him too much of the log and too 
 little of the stork ; for he would not move but as he was moved, 
 and had rather be devoured than he would devour. He was not 
 so stupid not to know prosperity from adversity, but he was so 
 devout to think nothing adversity which was not a hindrance 
 to devotion. He was fitter for a priest than a king ; for a sacri- 
 fice than a priest. He had one immunity peculiar to himself, 
 that no man could ever be revenged on him, seeing he never 
 offered any man an injury. By being innocent as a dove he 
 kept his crown upon his head so long, but if he had been wise 
 as a serpent he might have kept it on longer." 
 
 5. Thus Henry was sure to be always under the sway of 
 some one of a stronger character than his own. For a long time 
 everything was in the hands of the Duke of Gloucester or Car- 
 dinal Beaufort. As the cardinal grew older another man rose to 
 
 power on his side, the Earl of Suffolk. He had an 
 
 Suffolk ° '''' a ^ a t if the King of England were married to a 
 
 French princess it would go a great way towards 
 
 making peace ; and he contrived to find a wife for him so exactly 
 
 the reverse of himself in character, that in their after lives she 
 
 was like the husband, and he the wife. 
 
 6. She was the daughter of a French prince belonging to the 
 family of Anjou, who had many high-sounding titles, being 
 
 called the King of Sicily, Naples, and Jerusalem. 
 
 v ' But these were all empty names, and he was in reality 
 
 manief ^ ne P oores t an 'l most unlucky of princes. He was 
 
 Margaret i fl prison when his daughter Margaret was born. 
 
 of Anjou. She was now fifteen years old, and though her 
 
 father was not in prison at this time, he was still
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IN ENGLAND. 359 
 
 very poor. The English hail lost nearly all they had ever won 
 in France, hut part of Anjou and Maine still belonged to them. 
 It was now settled that Henry should marry the Princess Mar- 
 garet, and give over those provinces to her father in return. We 
 can imagine this marriage treaty would not he very popular in 
 England, and especially with the war party. Instead of a grand 
 alliance, and a bride who brought a fine dowry with her, such as 
 the kings of England wire accustomed to, here was a penniless 
 bride, to whose lather the English were to give up some of the 
 most important parts of Fiance which still remained to them. 
 The Duke of Gloucester was furious, and the two parties came to 
 hate each other more than ever. 
 
 7. The new queen, whose character soon began to show itself, 
 
 mrse t< >< -k part with Suffolk, who had made such a fine match 
 for her, and she Looked on the Duke and Duchess of (iloucester 
 as her enemies and rivals. This duchess was not the same w Imso 
 marriage had so nearly caused a broil with the Duke of Burgundy 
 Bomi before. I iod Duke Humphrey" seemed to 
 
 all about her, and had afterwards married an 
 I lishlady, Eleanor Cobham. Till Henry VI. married and had 
 
 a the next heir to the throne was the Duke of Gloucester, 
 and his wife was the firsl lady in the Land. Whether she 
 affronted the young Queen Margaret, and taunted her with her 
 made to do in the play) or not, 
 
 ', , .... | , The Duchess 
 
 ■ rtamly an ambltlOUS and Un8CrupulOU8 f Glou- 
 
 WOman, and w.is not likely to Look with much cester. 
 
 iron a marriage winch made her second instead 
 of first, and would most probably destroy all hope of her hus- 
 b m I ever i to be K ing of England. 
 
 in to be rumoured about that she took counsel with 
 
 witches and magicians, and was plotting to destroy the king's 
 
 Jife. It, was whispered thai they had made a waxen Image of 
 
 the king, which ben before a slow fire, and gradually wa I 
 
 life would w:i be away with it. Every one 
 
 quite ready t" believe it. The duohess and her confederates 
 were seized, examined, and found guilty. The sorcerer and the 
 witcb were put to death; the duche made to do public 
 
 , walking barefool through the of London carrying 
 
 a taper, and pursued by the bouts and mockerj of the mob. 
 After this she w I into p rpetual impri onment in the I Le 
 
 of Man. which seemed almo I like the end of the earth in th 
 
 day 
 
 9. Not long afterwards the duke himself was deprived of all
 
 360 LECTURES ON ENGLISH IIISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 his offices, and charged with high treason. Tt is impossible to 
 make out what he had really done, or if he had done anything, 
 but he was sent to prison, and then the same thing happened to 
 him which generally did happen in those days to important peo- 
 ple whose enemies contrived to imprison them. In a week or 
 two's time it was made known that he was dead, 
 1447. j us t as it had been with that other Duke of Glouces- 
 Deaths of \ rl% w jj wag pufc [ n prison at Calais in Richard 
 
 andBeau- IL ' S time - No one had mUeli d ° ubt that }™ had 
 fort. been murdered, and it was believed that Cardinal 
 
 Beaufort and the Duke of Suffolk, if not the queen 
 herself, were guilty of his death. About six weeks after 
 the cardinal himself died. Terrible stories were told about his 
 death-bed, and how he was haunted by the ghost of his mur- 
 dered nephew, though no one thought of the poor Maiden, whom 
 his cruelty had doomed to a fearful death at Eouen. These 
 . however, though they show the popular feeling with 
 regard to tin' duke ami the cardinal, were not true in fact; it 
 appears that Beaufort died in a perfectly calm and decorous 
 manner. 
 
 1<>. But if the Duke of Gloucester were really murdered, it 
 was all to no purpose; a still more dangerous person came to 
 
 the front in his place— the Duke of York, the son 
 The J )u ^ e of that conspirator Richard who had been put to 
 
 death at the beginning of Henry V.'s reign; the de- 
 Bcendanl of those Mortimers who had heen always standing like 
 dark shadows behind tin' throne of the Lancaster princes. Pro- 
 bably tie- claims of the Mortimers would uever have been heard 
 gain if Henry VI. had been like Ins father and grandfather. 
 i,. being so weak and helpless, and the country so divided 
 and discontented, there was a fine opening for an ambitious 
 prince. The Duke of York, however, mad- no sign at present 
 of aiming at being more than the bead of the party which 
 opposed tii" queen and the peace with France. For a long time 
 his prim-ipal rival wis the Duke of Somerset, who was a relation 
 of Cardinal Beaufort, and, like him, descended from John of 
 
 I .1 Hilt. 
 
 11. The next person who died was the Duke of Suffolk. 
 
 rything in France was going from bad to worse; most of the 
 
 blame was laid on him, and so now his turn came 
 
 s e ffik° f t0 be cnu -"'' 1 wit1 ' lli; -' 1 trea80n - He WHS trying to 
 ipe to < Jalais when be was caught by an English 
 
 ship and murdered. None of the murderers were ever pursued
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IX ENGLAND. 361 
 
 and brought to justice, and it seemed they were most likely set 
 on by some powerful man, who did not choose to appear — per- 
 haps by the Duke of York. The people were still enraged at 
 the reverses in France. The Bishop of Chichester, who had helped 
 Suffolk iu bringiug in Margaret of Anjou, and in giving away 
 the French provinces, was torn to pieces by the mob, but that 
 did not get the provinces back. 
 
 12. At last the long war — the Hundred Years' War — seemed 
 to wear itself out. The end of it was that, after all the fighting, 
 all the glory, all the misery, England lost every inch 
 
 she had ever possessed in Fiance, except the town ^ d °f . t ^ e 
 of Calais, and that she lost 100 years after. How years' War 
 little did Edward III. and the splendid young Black 
 Prince, when they fought the battle of Crecy, guess what would 
 
 be the .-n 1 of it all '. 
 
 13. Nor were matters going on any better at home. Every- 
 body w;is furiously dissatisfied ; and soon after Suffolk's death 
 
 men of Kent rose tip into a great rebellion, which 
 reminds us somewhal of Wat Tyler's revolt before, ^O- 
 though it differed from it in some' ways. Theheadof j^'^, ' 
 
 in Irishman, named Jack Cade; but aud the men 
 he culled himself by the more dignified name of Mor- of Kent, 
 tuner, and it was believed by some people that the 
 
 :e of V"i mraged him. Twenty thou and 
 
 Kentish men, with Jack Cade at their head, met on Blackheath, 
 and set forth their complaints. It is very interesting to look 
 into these complaints and compare them with those of Wat 
 Tyler seventy years before. 
 
 1 1. At that line', as we remember, the principal grievance was 
 tli it all tie- poor people were " villeins," or serfs, and they de- 
 manded to have their freedom, and to be paid wages for their 
 work. King Richard had at Ural promised this, but afterwards 
 broken, and the rich men declared they would 
 by no means put, with their villeins. So we might have . 
 
 . now tl. i i ii, we should hear some 
 
 thing of tie- same complaints. But no; there is not a word 
 ah-, it villeinage, "i ,oi wi hing to he free, That had all 
 
 foi ever ; tlene were no no ville 
 
 ybody was free. Though Wat Tyler, John Boll, and . 
 many others had been put to death, their revolt bad borne its 
 fruits, and tie' good work had been done. Villeinage lie! 
 
 done away with for ever.
 
 362 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 15. What the people now complained of were mostly political 
 matters ; the most important of all the things they demanded 
 was, that when members of parliament were elected the people 
 should be allowed freedom to vote according to their opinions, 
 and should not bo interfered with ; for at this time they were 
 greatly hampered in exercising this right. It had been decreed 
 that no one should be chosen as a knight of the shire, or county 
 member, who was not a gentleman born ; and the poorer voters 
 received orders from the great men whom they were to vote for, 
 whether they liked him or not. This very same practice almost 
 caused a revolution in France so lately as the year 1877. 
 
 No doubt Jack Cade and his men were quite right in demanding 
 perfect liberty in this respect, but it may be supposed they 
 could not be very badly oil' in worldly affairs ; they must have 
 had plenty to eat and drink and wear, if they had time to care 
 about votes, and memhers of parliament, and such matters. 
 
 16. However, the government sent an army against them; 
 and after they had put forth papers, on which their complaints 
 were written, the revolters went back from Blackheath to Seven 
 Oaks, where they fought the king's army, defeated it, and then 
 marched up again to London. No one resisted them, and they 
 passed through the streets till they came to London Stone, the 
 very stone which had been set up by the Romans 1400 years 
 before, as the first milestone from which they measured their 
 roads. Jack Cade struck the old stone with his sword, and 
 declared he was " lord of the city." 
 
 17. The revolt then went on much as Wat Tyler's had 
 done; they behaved very well at first, and the London people 
 made no opposition, but rather took their part. They seized on 
 an unpopular minister, Lord Say, and after a sort of trial before 
 the Lord Mayor they put him to death. But by and bye the 
 revolters put themselves all wrong. They began plundering and 
 pillaging; the Londoners tooi fright, and when the insurgents 
 retired to South wark for the night the citizens broke down the 
 bridge between them, and would not let them come hack. Cade 
 
 and In followers were deceived by a false promise 
 Death of (j f j >; t ,-, i , , t , , ;in ,i dispersed; Cade was pursued and 
 
 put to death. 
 IS. But of course that did not put an end to the discontent. 
 People went on complaining, and very justly. The parliament 
 (even such as it was now) hardly ever met, and money was raised 
 without its consent, and without redressing anybody's grievances. 
 So that now, in this disturbed condition of affairs, the Duke of
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IN ENGLAND. 363 
 
 York saw his opportunity of coming forward more openly as a 
 claimant of the crown. He began by attacking the Duke of 
 Somerset, who was on the queen's side, and was a relation of 
 the Lancastrian family, being descended from John of Gaunt. 
 It v. it this time that the Red and the White 
 
 Rose dragged into the quarrel. The red roses Whi ^ e Roses. 
 
 had long been the badge of the Eouse of Lancaster; 
 th-y had been first brought into Europe by the Crusaders from 
 ad bad been introduced into England 200 years before 
 this time by Edmund, the Becond Bon of Henry III., who was 
 the first Duke of Lancaster. Hi- Leant iful tomLin Westminster 
 ALL irnamented with roses carved in stone. They are 
 
 grey or black rosea now, but when they were new they were 
 doubtless painted red. 
 
 19, .\ very pi told and believed in the middle 
 
 about the creation of roses, which we may read in Sir John 
 
 Mandeville's travels. He that a certain fair maiden had 
 
 d with wrong and slandered, and condemned to be 
 
 burnt ; ''and as the fire began to hum about ber be made her 
 
 to our Lord, that, ae truly as Bhe was not guilty, He 
 
 , || merciful grace help her, and make it known to all 
 
 men. And when she had th I she entered into the fire, 
 
 and immediately the fire -■ ngui led, and the faggots that 
 
 were burning became red rose-bushes, and those that were not 
 
 kindled became white rose bu bes, full of r b. And these were 
 
 the : ml rosi , both white, and red, that ever any 
 
 man -aw." 
 
 20. But there were lei gentle thoughts about ro • uow, when 
 tie- fierce heads of each party, which had been bo Long scowling 
 and growling from a di tance, drew their followfii her, and 
 
 prepared to rush at one i ther. We may read in the play how 
 
 the one side twitted tl ther. One man ays that the tied I 
 
 iii!. ime at th- e\ il d< ed of Somei • I ; another 
 the Wnit< I' ■■ i pale for faint heartedness and cowardlini 
 
 21. Ait' i a little delay on each ide, during which time the 
 in. I queen had a on born to them, the war broke out 
 
 openly. The first battle •■•• ht at 8t. All. an'.. 
 
 The Wars of the R 1 1 ted thirty \ I om * 455 - 
 
 i,. • Battle of St. Allan's to the la i oi d b«glna 
 
 I . worth I ield, and m that time there were twi I 
 
 fought. B any farther we will take .. 
 
 of the most prominent people engaged in them during those 
 thirty y<
 
 364 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 22. We have already seen the sort of man King Henry VI. 
 ■was, ami how utterly unfit to cope with the disastrous times he 
 The actors in nat ^ f a ^ en on - After the first Battle of St. Alban's, 
 
 the war. when the Duke of York, though victorious, went to 
 him, " making humble petition to him for pardon of 
 enry " what was past," the king, " thoroughly affrighted, 
 said, ' Let there be no more killing, then, and I will do whatever 
 you will have me.' " By degrees it came to be observed, "as it 
 were in the destiny of King Henry, that although he were a 
 most pious man, yet no enterprise of war did ever prosper where 
 he was." Shakespeare shows him to us sitting aside while a 
 battle is raging, and wishing he had been born a poor shepherd, 
 with simple cares and pleasures, humble fare, and peace and 
 .safety. " Ah, what a life were this ! how sweet ! how lovely ! " 
 he says. Tims, though he was loved, he was greatly despised 
 too. 
 
 23. His wife Margaret was brave, spirited, and clever ; but 
 as time went on, and misfortunes thickened about her, she grew 
 
 hard, cruel, and unwomanly. After one great battle, 
 that of Wakefield, in which the Duke of York was 
 taken prisoner, and his young son, the "pretty Rutland," slain, 
 it was said that Queen Margaret mocked and jeered at him most 
 savagely, gave him a handkerchief dipped in the poor boy's blood 
 to wipe away his tears, and when he Avas beheaded caused his 
 lead to be set up on the gates of York, crowned in mockery with 
 a paper crown. But no one can fail to admire her courage and 
 perseverance. She was the mainspring of her husband's party. 
 When things went ill she never gave in or lost heart; she went 
 everywhere where she could hope to get help for him ; to 
 Scotland, to Burgundy, to fiance. Once, while she was wander- 
 ing about with her sun, who was but a child still, alone and on 
 foot, in a thick and gloomy forest, they fell in with a robber ; of 
 whom there were always many, and very fierce, lurking about in 
 such places. But Margaret's spirit rose higher with danger ; she 
 went boldly up to the rough outlaw, leading her boy by the hand, 
 and saying, " This is i of your king. I confide him to 
 
 your care." The rough fellow, who had some generosity in his 
 wdd nature, was touched by her confidence, took them both 
 under his protection, and led them in safety to their friends. A 
 woman like this was sure to inspire her friends with enthusiastic 
 devotion, and her enemies with deadly hatred. 
 
 24. Their great opponent, the Duke of York, was not himself 
 so fierce and ambitious as some of the rest of his party, and he
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IN ENGLAND. 3G5 
 
 tried for some time to preserve a kind of moderation. 
 At one time, indeed, and after a battle in which his Yor ^ 
 party was victorious, he agreed to a sort of com- 
 promise, something like the Treaty of Troves in France ; by which 
 it was pi ; that Henry should be king as long as he lived, 
 
 and the Duke of York would he content to be named as his heir, 
 and reign after him. But as, of course, Queen Margaret would 
 not sit down quietly under that, and see her boy disinherited, 
 tin- war wenl on again, and the Duke of York was killed. 
 
 25. The death of the duke, however, Mid not end the war; he 
 left three Bona to carry on the struggle, all more ambitious and 
 
 than himself. < Mm of the most delightful of English 
 writers and English men, who, if he did nol know them himself, 
 
 who did, Sir Thomas More, says of them, "All these 
 three, as they w< . birth, so were they greai and 
 
 Btately of Btomach, greedy of promotion, ami impatient partners 
 of rule and authority." The eldest of them, Edward, 
 who during the course of these wars became king as York 
 Edward IV.. was a carious character, and though he 
 
 eery popular, we cannol Bee that he deserved to he so He 
 
 me and agreeable, and, unlike Henry VI., he was 
 clever and unscrupulous, Immoral in his private character, ami, 
 though seemingly amiable and kind, in his heart he was hard, 
 cruel, and revengeful. 
 
 26. The next brother, George, Duke of Clarence, though he too 
 
 itely of stomach," was nol w clever nor determined, hut 
 he bl and treacherous, as we shall see, and 
 
 we used a a orl of '""1 by the ,-t ranger men he 
 
 I to '1" With, till they threw him away. 
 
 27. The third, Richard, was one of the mosl remarkable cha- 
 
 in .ill English history. The ..1.1 historians 
 
 . , . , • ii Richard. 
 
 aim ■ the language w describing his wicked- 
 
 h . . ,,ii.l ;i t the .am.- time .nil half awed hy his wonderful 
 
 intellect Our common idea of him we gain from Shakespeare. 
 . for any nun whom Shake peare '!■ i villain I t" 
 
 the end of time he will oevei be anything el .-. 
 
 " I, thai have aefther pity, love, n'>r f- ar " 
 Shake peare m ike Richard 
 
 '•Th. n dnoe th( h< aveni b >•• ipi d nrj b I] ■*•>, 
 I • \i\ my mind m anawei it 
 
 I bare no brother; I an lik.' no brother; 
 And tail word ' Lore,' which art jrhi Brdi call Divine,
 
 355 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Be resident in men like one another, 
 And not in me." 
 
 Not long ago, however, a clever French writer gave this account 
 of Richard II I. : " The truth is, Richard was one of the greatest 
 kings who ever reigned over England. As a general, he gained 
 the battles of Barnet and Tewkesbury. As a sovereign, he was 
 merciful, and caused the laws to be respected; he reformed 
 abuses, and diminished taxes. As a man, he was violent, but 
 courageous and sincere. Finally, far from being a monster in 
 person, it appears that he was admirably handsome, well-made, 
 and elegant." If this is the truth, it is to be feared that a great 
 part of it will never get itself believed. 
 
 28. Baker's description of him is rather a contrast, and it is 
 painted so very black that one feels inclined to soften it a little. 
 " There never was in any man a greater uniformity of body and 
 mind, both of them equally deformed. Of body he was but low; 
 crook-backed, hook-shouldered, splay-footed, and goggle-eyed; his 
 face little and round, his complexion swarthy, his left arm from 
 his birth dry and withered. . . . Those vices which in other men 
 are passions, in him were habits ; and his cruelty was not upon 
 occasion, but natural. . . . And to say the truth, he was scarce 
 of the number of men who consist of flesh and blood, being 
 nothing but blood." Sir Thomas Moredoes not say quite so much 
 about his bodily deformity, though he tells us he had what in 
 high rank " is called a warlike visage, and among common persons 
 a crabbed face." But he is most struck with his terrible hypo- 
 crisy and cold, cruel persistency. "He was close and secret," ho 
 writes, "a deep dissembler, lowly of countenance, arrogant of 
 heart, outwardly familiar where he inwardly hated, not letting 
 to kiss whom he thought to kill. . . . Friend and foe were all 
 indifferent where his advantage grew; he spared no man's death 
 whose life withstood his purpose." Thus we get the general 
 opinion of him, which bis acts, as Ear as we know them, bear out, 
 that he war bo deformed as to seem to himself and toothers more 
 a monster than a man ; that he felt himself a kind of outcast from 
 ali that makes life dear to mosi men; that he scorned himself, and 
 scorned everybody else, both man and woman. He gave all his 
 mind to ambition ; he determined to be king, and nothing, 
 nobody should hinder him. That he did become king at last, and 
 that all who stood between him and the crown came to an 
 untimely end, is certain, but charity, and perhaps justice, would 
 Lead us to hope that he was not quite so black as he was 
 painted.
 
 xxxvi.] TROUBLES IX ENGLAND. 367 
 
 29. But for a long time the most important person in all these 
 conflicts was neither king, queen, nor prince. Of all the nobles 
 at this time, the richest, the most powerful, and the 
 most popular was the Earl of Warwick, of whom Warwick. 
 II nine says he was the greatest as well as the last of 
 those mighty barons who formerly overawed the crown. He was 
 the head of one of the greatest and richest of all the families in 
 jland, and was related to nearly all the others. Fuller can 
 hardly find words enough to tell his greatness. "This was that 
 NeviUe," be Bays, "who for extraction, estate, alliance, depend- 
 ents, wisdom, valour, success, and popularity was superior to 
 any English subject since the Conquest. People's love he chiefly 
 based by hi itality, keeping so open house that he was 
 
 most welcome who brought the best Btomach with him, the earl 
 charitably believing thai all who were men of teeth were men of 
 arms. Any that looked like a man might have in his house a 
 full half-yard of roast meat, namely, so much as he could strike 
 through and carry away on his dagger. The bear was his crest, 
 and it may be truly Baid thai when the bear roared the lion of 
 the i rembled, the king oJ England themselves being at 
 
 He had ho lea in BeveraJ par; of 
 
 land, and altogether it was believed thai 30,000 persons lived 
 at hi re more devoted to him than to any king or 
 
 ],ri]!' that be could do more than any one else for which- 
 
 side he favoured. For a long hum' he was on the White 
 T le, and it was through bis help and supporl that Edward 
 
 of Yoik was made king. But when, afterwards, Edward gave him 
 nee he chan joined him ell to Margaret of Anjou, 
 
 turned Edward out, brought II VI. from his prison, and set 
 
 him on the throne again. For thi ploil be wa called the 
 
 maker." la t, in th< n it fighl of Barnet, Warwick 
 
 killed, and could make no more kings, though no doubl be 
 •till many schemes In hi . brain, for he had married 
 
 .•I to 1 wo i" I"*-, j one of i he Hou e oi 5foi k, and 
 one ol t he II of ] and one of t boi e w a Queen i il 
 
 I nd in c< I time. 
 
 I There u one other person who must be mentioned, the 
 
 I hmond. We have not >tten Qua d Catherine, 
 
 II : rich bride. After hi d< ath he had 
 
 married a Wei leman named Tudor. Though Richmond. 
 
 common in I da for trn mbei oi 
 
 the royal house to marry those who were nol roj thai half 
 
 the noble families in England were related to the king, still they
 
 36S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 generally only allied themselves with the high nobility, and this 
 marriage of Queen Katherine was considered as greatly beneath 
 her dignity, so that she fell into a sort of disrepute, and we hear 
 no more about her, though she was probably much happier as a 
 private lady than any of the unhappy queens who succeeded 
 her. Her sons by the Welsh marriage were of course half- 
 brothers to Henry VI., and one of them was made Earl of Rich- 
 mond, and married to a lady of the House of Lancaster, daughter 
 of the Duke of Somerset. And though such a distant and left- 
 handed sort of relation, the son of those two came forward by 
 and bye as the representative of the House of Lancaster, and 
 became King of England in the end. 
 
 31. As for the rest of the actors in this great tragedy, we find 
 that the Percies, perhaps remembering Henry V.'s generosity, 
 were faithful to the House of Lancaster, but most of the nobility 
 seem to have been guided by only selfish motives, and became as 
 tickle and treacherous as they were cruel.
 
 xx.vvii.j WARS OF THE ROSES. 3G9 
 
 LECTURE XXXVII.— WARS OF THE ROSES. 
 
 The old nobility and their armies. End of the feudal system. Causes 
 of the war. Condition of the people. Edward IV. His marriage. 
 Vicissitu 
 
 1. It is hardly necessary to study and recollect all about these 
 twelve battles,* and the changes and chances of the war. Some- 
 times one side conquered, and sometimes the other; in the cud 
 Ave may say neither, or perhaps both conquered, since a member 
 of the Bouse of Lanca ter, marrying a member of the House of 
 5 , became undisputed king. But though we may be inclined 
 I ly then thai the wars were all for nothing, and nothing came 
 of them, they had in reality a very great effecl on the whole 
 future history and state of England. After those wars were over 
 i land was much more like what she is now, than she ever 
 could have been without them. 
 
 l'. In all • t history we have seen whal an enormous 
 
 er the nobL lj how they could help or hinder the 
 
 king and th nmenl just a i hey chose ; how 
 
 rebelled and led armies about, fighting each The ftmie9 - 
 
 other, or fighting the king, ju I as il happened ; or if they had a 
 
 . whom thi cted, following him and 
 
 ng i i In in. How different all that is from anything we 
 
 now. Imagine now if we were to bear that 
 
 some duke or earl w.is going to had an army ii I the 
 
 • ■i nmeiit ! 
 
 We all know it. i- impossible, Dukes and earls have no 
 
 armies now. Tbey may give their opinion , and advice, and 
 
 in their own Ho y maj erve in the queen's army, 
 
 . nd that is all they can d". Bui up 
 
 till this time thi lords had always little armies, ox even 
 
 i armies sometimes, of their own. They were bound 
 
 ind I to have them; it was on that very condition they held 
 
 bates. The theory of the feudal system wa , that the va 
 
 * A list of them will be fmmd at the end of thin lecture. 
 
 Ii IJ
 
 370 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 of the king were obliged to furnish so many men to help him in 
 his wars. But when they did not like the king it was quite as 
 probable that they would fit out those said men to oppose him, 
 as we knoAV Percy and the others did in the reign of Henry IV. 
 If there were a rival claimant to the throne, some of the nobles 
 would take one side and some the other, according as it suited 
 their interest, or, perhaps, according as they thought was their 
 duty. 
 
 3. In such times a rich nobleman, who had a large following, 
 who could make himself popular, and perhaps hire many other 
 soldiers besides his own under-vassals and tenants, would be very 
 powerful indeed, even more powerful than the king himself, like 
 Warwick, the king-maker. In those days there was no regular 
 standing army, such as we have now, nor was there indeed for 
 some hundreds of years after this. At that time everybody was 
 a soldier, and nobody was a soldier. We can see how they 
 managed in the play of Henry VI. In the course of this war 
 Henry hears that his rival, Edward, has just landed from the Con- 
 tinent. He lias no army ready at the moment, but he says, 
 "Let's levy troops, and beat him back again." Then he and his 
 friends arrange how to levy these troops. Each of the noblemen 
 is to go to the place where he has most influence, and muster up 
 his friends and their followers. The Earl of Warwick says — 
 
 " In Warwickshire I have true-hearted friends, 
 Not mutinous in peace, yet bold in war; 
 'I hi se will I muster up : and thou, son Clarence, 
 Shalt stir in Suffolk, Norfolk, and in Kent, 
 The knights and gentlemen to come with thee : 
 Thou, brother Montague, in Buckingham, 
 Northampton, and in Leicestershire, shalt find 
 Men well inclined to hear what thou command'st : 
 And thou, brave Oxford, wondrous well ludoved, 
 In Oxfordshire .-halt muster up thy friends." 
 
 4. So when the nobles went to muster up an army, the 
 ploughmen, the wearers, the la 1 tourers of all sorts would leave 
 their work and follow theui to fight. They were doubtless better 
 soldiers than such men would be at present, for they were 
 regularly trained and practised at certain times, and every man 
 knew, more or less, how to fight, though they were not like the 
 disciplined regiments we have now. In a little while, after a 
 battle or two, perhaps, they would .'_ r o back again to their work, 
 to their ploughs or their looms. There were some regular 
 soldiers too, whose regular profession was war, " companions," as
 
 xxxvii.] WARS OF THE ROSES. 371 
 
 they were called, who were trained men, but wlio belonged to 
 no side, and no chief, and could be hired by any party, city, or 
 rich man whet wanted them; and who, when wanted by no one, 
 generally became brigands. 
 
 5. At tbe time of the Wars of the Roses all the principal 
 nobles of the kingdom took one side or tbe other, either that of 
 York or Lancaster; each brought hi* little army 
 behind him, and it was they who fought those twelve nobles 
 battles. At the end of the wars they were nearly all 
 gone, all killed. The family feeling was very strong in those 
 times, and it was a point of honour for a man to revenge the 
 deaths of his relations ; then the other side would revenge them- 
 i turn, till we can hardly believe the men who worked 
 these cruel deeds could have called themselves Christians at all. 
 Thus one nobleman, Lord Clifford, had In- father killed by tie' 
 Yorkists. In n venge he I that poor boy the Duke of 
 
 Rutland, the son of tin- I ink- of York. Afterwards, in rev 
 I'm- that, mself killed by Rutland's brother. Thus the 
 
 war became bittei y cruel and Alas for chivalry ! 
 
 i). In looking over tie- pedigrees of those great old families it 
 is quite startling i" see how many times we read "killed at 
 Tewkesbury," "killed at St. Albans," "beheaded after "Wakefield," 
 and the lik'-. X" leas than four dukes "f Somerset, one after 
 th»- other, perished in these wars. The end of it was th.it the 
 old nobility wis aln md tie- feudal system vanished 
 
 for ever. Thin in to In- much more like what they are 
 
 now; so this period i^ generally looked on a- tie- end of the 
 middle ages, and the beginning of modem tim 
 
 7. We cannot supposeth , or anybody else, would 
 
 I talon all this trouble, raised their armies, and hurried about 
 all over the country, fighting, killing, ami being 
 killed, all for love of Henry or Edward, I. Causes of 
 
 or York. Had there not been some grave cau es of 
 
 :t Lb pretty certain both 5Tork and Mortimer would 
 I <-<ii t . now t -lit the Lan had been sitt in 
 
 tie-, throne for B i their exact rights mighl l 
 
 in 1 1 n ■■ •». Bui i deal of dis- 
 
 content, and a pii ■>' ol ei iffection pread abroad am 
 
 the nation. I . py one w ned and di ' ' I at the dis- 
 
 graceful end of the Fr< neb war. and the pri le of the people was 
 much comforted by the 'hath of the I >uke of 8uffolk, or the 
 < i » of ('hi' Thi of England itself was also 
 
 unsatisfactory. Ja k Cade and the Kentish men, as we saw, had 
 
 l: l: 2
 
 372 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 complained about the way parliaments were elected. A great 
 
 many people who formerly used to vote for members were no 
 longer allowed to do so at all, and many of those who still had 
 votes had to give them according to orders, and not according to 
 their own wishes. And parliament very seldom met at all. 
 Nor was the government strong enough to keep the country quiet 
 and peaceful. High and low were able to defy the law with 
 impunity ; the great families wen; continually carrying on little 
 wars of their own ; innumerable robbers ranged over the land, 
 keeping the people in constant alarm and distress, and nobody 
 had power to punish the evil-doers or protect the helpless and 
 innocent. 
 
 8. Moreover, the House of Lancaster, both Henry IV. and 
 Henry V., had, in their mistaken zeal for religion, made common 
 cause with the Church, anil had persecuted and burnt the 
 Lollards. Hut though the Lollards appeared to be quite crushed 
 and put down, in the bottom of their hearts immense numbers of 
 people believed them to be right, and sympathized with them ; 
 so that when they had time to think, and were not dazzled and 
 absorbed by Henry's splendid victories, it caused a vast deal of 
 hidden discontent, and turned men's hearts away from their rulers. 
 
 9. Thus, with all these grievances, either spoken or unspoken, 
 a great many people were ready for a change. Not that the 
 princes of the House of York were at all likely to remedy any of 
 these things, or ever did so, but that when people are dissatisfied 
 they are willing to hope that any change will be for the better j 
 though it had need to be very, very much better indeed to make 
 up for the misery of a civil war. We have seen how cruel ami 
 hard hearted the, nobles became towards one another; what their 
 followers wen- obliged to suffer we may imagine. In one beauti- 
 ful p which Shakespeare added to the old play of Henry 
 17. lie paints it for us very vividly. He shows us how in one of 
 these battles a father has unknowingly killed his own son, and 
 a 3on his own father, who were fighting in opposite ranks ; and 
 a- they both lament their cruel fortune, they think of what is so 
 often forgotten, of the poor wife and mother at home, to whom 
 they must carry tin; bitter news.''" 
 
 10. But though sad and terrihle things like this must often 
 have happened, and though the nobles, many of them, became 
 
 little better than murderers, there is a great consola- 
 
 T h ® tion in knowing that, on the whole, the mass of the 
 
 people did not suffer so much as might have been 
 
 * Third Part of King Henry VI. , Act II. Scene v.
 
 XXXVII .] WARS OF TIIE ROSES. 37i) 
 
 expected. In some of the "battles the leaders on both sides gave 
 orders that the poorer people were to he spared, and that only 
 the principal men were to be killed. For the most part the 
 
 j pie, except those who were dependent upon the nobles, took no 
 
 part at all. The merchants and shopkeepers went on with their 
 business ; the judges went on circuit and held their assizes as if 
 nothing was the matter. No towns, no churches were destroyed, 
 and we have the comfort of thinking that those who made the 
 rel bore the brunt of the punishment. 
 
 11. There is good reason to believe, in f ict, that the poor people 
 were better off than they ever were before ; for while Edward 
 I V. was king new laws were made to prevent them from spend- 
 innr too much money on bheir clothes. This subject seems to be 
 always cropping up; we are perpetually having sermons and 
 
 rinst finery, and very little good they seem to have done. 
 In the very midst of the war a law was passed 463 
 beginning in this way : " The commons, rs well men 
 
 imen, have worn, and daily do wear, excessive and inordinate 
 , and apparel, to the great displeasure of God, and im- 
 poverishing of this realm of England." It goes on to com id 
 
 tint eommon labourers, and servants, and their wives are never 
 
 to wear cloth costing more than two shillings a yard; nor are, 
 
 to war girdles ornamented with silver. Another luW was 
 d forbidding the wivee to gel their veils and handkerchiefs 
 too tine. Thus it, is evident they musl have been well off, and 
 receiving g I ' irthey would never have thought of want- 
 
 ing expensive t hinge of this kind. 
 
 12. But though the emancipation of the serfs had dour a great 
 deal I, and the labourers were in this prosperous c lition, 
 
 evil had come with it too, and that was that there were now 
 • it many people who had no work and no wages al all. A i 
 . after the plague of the Black I leath, when there wen 
 few men. and v. man\ landlord would not or 
 
 could not pay them. Th >y left off tilling the land, and tur 1 
 
 it in' teep-fanns. Then only two or three men would 
 
 be wanted instead i I many ; and the sheep were 
 
 profitable, both for f 1 and for their wooL Now there 
 
 tins to 1"' .-aid in favour of villeinage, that th vner oi the land 
 
 bad al L a I to f< e I, clothe, and belter all his villein . or I 
 
 that they had land enough i to support them. Even when they 
 
 were ill OI old they -till had to be maintained, and W8 
 
 hear that they were badly treats d in 1 1 
 
 13. Bui now that wa^ all over; they W6W free, and their own
 
 374 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 masters, and it seemed nobody's duty to look after them any longer. 
 They had to try how they liked " a crust of bread and liberty." 
 
 The beggars. There be 8 an fco be a S reat man y be gg ars : some 
 "sturdy beggars," who would not work; others old 
 
 and feeble, who could not work ; others who could find no work 
 to do. Some gave themselves out as "poor scholars ;" indeed a 
 certain number of students from Oxford and Cambridge were 
 really allowed by the authorities to go about begging. It was 
 very hard to know what to do with all these beggars ; there 
 Was always the fear, that many of them might turn thieves, 
 as, indeed, they often did. The government did their utmost, 
 and passed a great many laws, many of them very harsh and 
 cruel, about vagabonds and beggars ; but it was a long time 
 before they found out anything like a reasonable way of dealing 
 with them, not till long after the period at which we have now 
 arrived. 
 
 14. We must now see how some of the more distinguished 
 people, the kings and princes, were behaving. The reign of 
 Henry VI., if it can be called a reign, is generally reckoned to 
 have ended after the Battle of Towton, which was 
 1461. one f £h e most cruel and bloody of all the twelve, 
 Towton allL ^ * n wn * cn ^ H ' Lancastrians were utterly de- 
 feated. Henry and Margaret fled, and Edward IV. 
 was crowned king. But the Wars of the Eoses were by no 
 means over yet, and it was not very long before he in his turn 
 had to flee, and Henry, who hail been caught and imprisoned in 
 the Tower, came forth again as king. For though Edward was 
 80 clever, handsome, and popular, lie contrived to 
 give dire offence to the nobles who supported him, 
 and above all to the Earl of Warwick, the king-maker. The 
 way in which he did this was by choosing to make a love-match 
 instead of marrying according to prudence or policy. The marriage 
 he made was very much beneath his position, since, though his 
 wife was a lady by birth and breeding, she was only the widow 
 of an obscure gentleman, and, to make it still worse, her husband 
 had been on the Lancastrian side. 
 
 15. In these wars it was the practice that whichever side con- 
 quered took revenge on the other, by depriving all the lords and 
 gentlemen of their estates (even if they escaped with their lives), 
 and dividing them among their own party; so that many great 
 lords and gentlemen were reduced to literal beggary. They might 
 be seen wandering about barefoot, and begging their bread iu
 
 xxxvii.] WARS OF THE ROSES. 373 
 
 Franco, while their enemies at home were sitting in their fine 
 houses, eating their bread and spending their money. Amongst 
 others there was one John Grey, of whom we read that " King 
 Henry made him knight at the last Battle of St. Alban's, but 
 little while he enjoyed his knighthood, for in the same field he 
 -lain." His property had been confiscated, and his children 
 were left destitute. His widow, who was young and beautiful, 
 appealed Int.!" Edward to implore his compassion. The king 
 was also young, and always ready to fall in love. The lady 
 behaved very modestly and very cleverly; she quite l464 
 won his heart; and, casting away all thought of H j 3 ' 
 
 prudence or worldly wisdom, Edward determined to marriage. 
 marry her. 
 
 16. The English had been very angry at Henry VI.'s marrying 
 a princess who brought no dowry, and no high alliances; but 
 
 iredly this match would seem worse still, <as . 
 
 Margaret bad at leasl been a princess of royal blood. tfended. 
 Moreover, Edward bad half promised to marry a 
 French princess himself, a sister of tin- Queen of France; and 
 Warwick, who, besides being king-maker, would have wished to 
 be queen-maker also, was very keen in promoting that, alliance. 
 He likewise wished Edward to give his sister in marriage to a 
 French prince, hut he cho e to marry her to the Duke of Bur- 
 gundy instead. It was also believed that, Warwick would have 
 desired Edward, it' he married an English woman at all, to have 
 m irried one of his own da«»ght< i 
 
 17. Thus he was quit'' alienated from Edward, though he did 
 not a- yet take pot with Henry. He first made friends with 
 Edward's brother George, the Duke of Clarence, and gave him 
 tie' daughter Isabel whom he hid perhaps intended for the king. 
 Through all these wars the. nobles were constantly changing sides 
 and betraying oneanother. Even the royal family itself was not 
 faithful, and Clarence now eon pired to betray his brother. 
 Afterwards he changed again, and betrayed Ins taller in law. 
 1 1 i.iM if v. i finally bel rayed and murdered. 
 
 For tin- present he and Warwick gave no iign of their inten- 
 tions, and perhaps tie- king thought all went Bmoothly as a 
 mania '•• belL It would certainly Beem as it' no King "i England 
 
 ; i on- fooli h king aft< c another did 
 
 the same Foolish th ineh Led to niin and mi «T_y again and 
 
 n. //'• all remember the trouble that can I' making 
 
 favourites, we remember Henry III. i favourites, Edward II.'.-,
 
 376 LECTURES NO ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 Richard II. 's, and the ill fortunes that came on them all. But 
 Edward IV. does not seem to have remembered it. He began 
 just the same thing over again. 
 
 18. Perhaps he thought, as he had married greatly beneath his 
 dignity, and his wife and her relations were looked down upon 
 
 by all the aristocracy of the land, that it would set 
 The queens fafaga r i„ nt to ma te them noble now. Accord- 
 
 ingly, all the greatest honours and riches were poured 
 out upon them. Her father and her brothers received great titles 
 and estates ; her son was married to the heiress of the Duke of 
 Exeter, whom "Warwick wanted for his own nephew ; her sisters 
 were married to the richest young men who could be found, heirs 
 of earls and dukes, whom the lords would have liked to marry 
 their own daughters. All this, therefore, instead of setting things 
 right, angered the Earl of Warwick and the rest of the old 
 nobility beyond bearing. 
 
 19. Except for their being "upstarts," however, there was 
 nothing to be said against these relations of the cpieen. One of 
 them in particular, her brother, Lord Rivers, was good, accom- 
 plished, and faithful. But their glory was shortdived, and they 
 paid very dear for it. At last things came to an open rupture, 
 
 and AVarwick, forsaking Edward, allied himself with 
 his most bitter enemy, Margaret of Anjou, who had 
 never ceased stirring and striving to reinstate her husband and 
 son. He now married his other daughter to her son Edward, so 
 that he had, we may say, two strings to his bow — two daughters 
 who might, in the changes of that changing time, come to be 
 cpaeens of England. This second daughter, Anne, was indeed 
 queen for a short time, though not at all by the means her 
 father expected. 
 
 20. As soon as Warwick appeared in England the people, who 
 loved and admired him, flocked around him in crowds. Edward 
 had to flee out of the country, and to flee in such haste that he 
 look nothing with him, and had no means of paying the captain 
 of tin: ship which carried him across, but by giving him a cloak 
 lined with sable. As to his poor wile, whom lie left behind him, 
 as wed as his luggage, she took refuge with her young daughters 
 in tiie, sanctiury at Westminster. 
 
 21. Here we may see once again the good influence which, 
 with all its faults, the Church was able to exercise in those 
 
 troubled times. In our days, when the law is su- 
 preme, when every one gets justice done, and no one 
 can injure another without being punished for it, we
 
 xxxvii .] WAKS OF THE ROSES. 377 
 
 have in) need of these sanctuaries. Indeed, even in those days 
 the good they did was mixed with evil ; for it appears that " a 
 rabble of thieves, murderers, and malicious heinous traitors" 
 were sometimes harboured there. But notwithstanding that, 
 when people were bo bitter, and so fierce and bloodthirsty, and 
 when the country was divided into two parties, always Longing 
 to murd . this right of sanctuary, the protection of 
 
 a sacred place, saved many innocent lives. The priests were 
 brave in defence of the fugitives who took refuge in the 
 churches, metimea the savage soldiers would pursue them 
 
 even there. Once King Edward himself did so with his follow- 
 but the priest, taking the sacrament in his hands, threw 
 himself between him and his victims, and would not move till 
 the king promised to pardon them all. Sometimes, treacherous 
 as men were in those days, people would be tempted out with 
 • promises of pardon ; but on the whole it is believed that 
 2000 lives w '-,1 in London alone hy the protection of the 
 
 •_':!. Here the poor queen took shelter, and here her unhappy 
 little son Edward V. was born. Shakespeare makes her say, 
 " Small joy have 1 in being England's queen." Katherine of 
 France, who was bo despised for d< cending to marry a private 
 gentleman, was, perhaps, a good deal wiser and happier than 
 I ..v diet h Wood villi-, who rose from being b private lady to marry 
 a king. However, it \\a~ not very long before Edward returned. 
 His brother Claren treacherous again, ami deserted War 
 
 wick. Two great battles wen- fought, in both of which Edward 
 The first was at Bai net, and I here 
 he king-maker, waa .-lain ; the second was 
 bury, and it utterly ruined the Lancastrian ho 
 Prince Edward, bod of Henry and Margaret, was 
 brutally murdered ; it is said by Edward's two brothoi . ( larence 
 and Gloucester. Margaret wai made pri oner, and Henry waa 
 taken back to the Tower, where he very soon after 
 
 I. The STorki I hat ho died of a Henry, 
 
 broken heart, but everybody believed that he 
 murdered, and Richard, the Duke of Gloucester, had all the 
 lit of it, whether he really deserved it or not The pi 
 
 look <ui K ing Henry i a lint . and said i hat 
 wonderful miracles were worked at hi tomb. 
 
 23. Margaret of An jou, whose brave had ended so 
 
 ,ly, and who had now nothing left to e for, waa kept 
 
 a prisoner for five yi re. A.1 I I thi King of France paid 50,000
 
 37S LECTURES ON ENGLISII TIISTORr. [leot. 
 
 crowns for her ransom, and she was allowed to go back to 
 France, where she lived for the few remaining years of her deso- 
 late life. But though the royal family of Lancaster was thus 
 broken up and extinguished, the end was not come yet. There 
 still lived young Eichmond, descended from John of Gaunt, who 
 was to make himself heard in due time. 
 
 24. Xot very long after these battles and murders, Eichard, 
 Duke of Gloucester, married Anne, that daughter of the Earl of 
 Warwick who had been the wife of poor Edward Elantagenet, 
 son of Henry. By and bye, as the wife of Eichard, she did really 
 become Queen of England, and still more than Elizabeth Wood- 
 ville might she say, " Small joy have I in being England's 
 queen." As to her courting by Gloucester, it must be read in 
 the play of Eichard I If. (Act I. scene ii.). 
 
 THE TWELVE BATTLES. 
 
 1455. 
 
 St. Alban's. 
 
 1459. 
 
 Eloreheath. 
 
 1400. 
 
 Northampton. 
 
 )> 
 
 Wakefield. 
 
 1461. 
 
 3l'irtimer's Cross, 
 
 » 
 
 St. Alban's. 
 
 >> 
 
 Towton. 
 
 1464. 
 
 Hexham. 
 
 1 169. 
 
 Banbury. 
 
 1471. 
 
 Barnet. 
 
 )> 
 
 Tewkesbury. 
 
 1485. 
 
 Bosworth.
 
 xxxviii.] TIIE END OF THE WAR. 379 
 
 LECTURE XXXVIII.— THE EXD OF THE WAR. 
 
 Caxton and the printing-press. Richard III. His victims. Murder of 
 
 the young princes. Henry Tudor. Battle of Bos worth Field. 
 
 1. While all these events were taking place among the illustrious 
 - of the nation, there was going on in the precinctsof West- 
 minster Abbey a wank Ear more important and interesting than the 
 battles, victi ; feats, or marriages of all the kings and queens 
 
 in the world. That beautiful abbey, round which so much of 
 English history clusters, had seen many splendid sights— gorge- 
 ous coronations, Btately funerals ; hut the work that was doing 
 there now was so quiet, bo bumble, in the midst of all the clash 
 inns and dynasties, that comparatively few people knew or 
 i much about it ; and yet it made a greater change and a 
 happier change than almost any other work we know of; it was 
 the lir-t introduction into England of the art of printing. 
 
 2. To realize how great that work was we have only to try 
 and think how we should feel without it now ; how we should 
 do without our Bibles and prayer books, our hi tories and poems, 
 our tales and ae^ papers. Four hundred igoperhap none 
 
 of us should ever b n such a thing. It was noticed a few 
 
 bow coming events wen Qg their shadows before. 
 
 The higher clae es were beginning to care more and more for 
 books, and ii'.t to leave them any Longer to priests and monks. 
 The richer ones bad collected line libraries, and others, who were 
 nol so i ich, still had of their own, and could road 
 
 and enjoy them. 
 
 When we go into a i . not knowing much of 
 
 the | pie who live in it, one of the first things we do, it' we can, 
 
 over their bookshelves, and by seeing the books 
 they read, we judge a little what sort of people they are. 8o if 
 
 we could know the sori of ' ks which our forefathi i read we 
 
 should feel a little more intimate and acquainted with them. 
 We are fortunate enough to have roI a catalogue 
 
 An old 
 
 ofapri ntleman 8 library (pi ! by hb-ary 
 
 chance) just before minting was invented. Thi
 
 380 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 were altogether about thirty books. There was no Bible among 
 them, but there were a few books of religion and morality : 
 one a sort of prayer-book; one a legend, or life of a saint; and 
 some of Cicero's wriiings on friendship, wisdom, and old age. 
 One was about the blazoning*, crests, and coats of arms, which 
 all gentlemen thought so much of; some were about the duties 
 of knights and the laws of the land. Then there were some of 
 Chaucer's poems, and several tales and romances, some of 
 which were perhaps thought to be English history, since there, 
 was one about King Arthur, and one about Richard Coeur de 
 Lion. It would not be at all disagreeable to be shut up for a 
 few months in a country house with these thirty books as 
 companions. 
 
 4. We know too how much they cost, for there is the bill of 
 the man who wrote them out lor Sir John Pa-ton, their owner. 
 It appears that the copyist gut twopence a leaf for prose, and a 
 penny a leaf for poetry (where, of course, the lines would be 
 shorter), and something extra for " rubrissheing," or decorating 
 t!c pages witli red initial Letters, and soon, like the "rubric "of 
 a prayer-book. The price of one leaf ornamented a little in this 
 way would have been in our money about two shillings, and a 
 whole book would be therefore very costly. 
 
 5. But just now something began to be heard of a marvellous 
 art in Germany, by which copies wen; made wonderfully fast, and 
 
 sold wonderfully cheap. What a copyist would 
 iuti expect 500 crowns for producing could be sold for 
 
 sixty crowns! It, was not wonderful that at first 
 people thought this must have something to do with the black 
 art, and that the man who did it got the credit of bein;4 a 
 magician, though he was only sending out copies of the Bible, 
 which we should not think the devil would be very eager to do. 
 G. There happened to be living in Flanders at this time a very 
 intelligent Englishman, William Caxton, who had been the 
 
 apprentice of a London mercer, but had gone abroad; 
 
 mosl likely, on some mercantile business. Flanders 
 at that period belonged to the Luke of Burgundy; and as 
 it was very impoi tanl both to Flai I to 1 i u 1 1 nd. that they 
 
 should be good friends, on account of the trade between the two 
 c luntries, Edward IV. had married one of his sisters to the Luke 
 of Burgundy. This English duchess was very kind to our 
 Londoner. Caxton, though he had been bred a mercer, was 
 fond of literary work, and of books ; and at this time he was 
 translating into English a Erench book about 'The History of
 
 xxxviii.] THE END OF THE WAR. 3S1 
 
 Troy.' The duchess took great interest in it, and even helped 
 him in some parts. And as he expected a great many people 
 would like to read it, he made up his mind that, instead of hav- 
 ing it copied out by hand, he would try the strange new invention, 
 and have it printed. 
 
 7. He knew well enough that there was no magic in it, and he 
 took great pains to Learn tin; whole ait, Hia book was finished 
 at Bruges, and was the first English book that was 
 
 ever printed. He gave this account of it himself: 
 "Thus end I this hook, which I have translated out of mine 
 author as ni,di as God bath given me cunning, to whom be given 
 the laud and praising. And for as much as in the writing of the 
 same my pen is worn, mine hand weary, and not stead fast, mine 
 i dimmed with overmuch looking on the white paper,and my 
 
 I me uid ready to lahoiir as it hath been, and that 
 
 creepeth on me daily and feehleth all the body, and also 
 ■ I have promised to divera gentlemen and to my friends 
 to address to lli-m as hastily as I might this said hook, there- 
 : I have, practised and learned, at my great charge and dis- 
 pense, to ordain this said hook in print after the manner and 
 form as ye may here Bee; and is not written with pen and ink. 
 
 a- other books l"\ to the end that every one m iv have them at 
 
 one,.." Although lie c.inplains so pathetically of being old and 
 feeble, he was really not quite Bixty when he wrote this, and 
 went on working f <r about twenty years Longer. 
 
 8. Five or ix years afterward- Ic came to England, and 
 settled himself in the precincts of Westminster Abbey. It is 
 
 quite clear why he chose that, place for Ins labours. Perhaps 
 it, was l,, . hitherto, nearly, if not quite all, the writing and 
 
 ring had been done in monasteries. Every monaster} had a 
 room called the " copying-room,' 1 where the write:, it writing 
 
 ami b< times beautifully ornamenting the I ks, bo it- may 
 
 I med the mo I n tl ural thing for I hi new kind of copj 
 
 I e done t •. Or, again, Caxtoi y have thought that 
 
 it would save him from the charge of to do hia work in 
 
 bo holy a place, under the sanction of the abbot \ and the. "sanc- 
 
 I • Would he a protection to him if he came into any 
 
 '.i. in 1 he v. ured by the king and the royal 
 
 ily, including Richard, as in Bruges he had been by the 
 
 Duchef oi Burgundy; and especially by the queen's brother, 
 
 1. >!-d Riven, who. besides being a Learned and accomplished 
 
 gentleman, was an author himself, and hid written a hook
 
 3S2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 culled 'The Dictes, and notable wyse Sayings of the Phyloso- 
 phers;' and that book was the first ever printed in England. 
 
 Soon after two other books were written by him. 
 
 and printed by Caxton ; the last one he wrote when 
 he was thirty-six years old, only three years bei'ore his untimely 
 death. 
 
 10. Some of the other books which Caxton printed and pub- 
 lished were a history and a geography of our own country; a 
 book giving an account of the universe as far as it was under- 
 stood (or misunderstood) at that time, showing how " the earth 
 holdeth right in the middle of the world" (or universe, as we 
 should say), and giving a description of the "celestial paradise." 
 II a also printed Chaucer's ' Canterbury Tales,' some of Gower's 
 writings, the story of ' Reineke Fuchs,' or ' Reynard the Fox,' 
 ' .loop's Fables,' and the ' History of Arthur and his Knights,' 
 as it had been newly written by an Englishman; some other 
 tales and romances, legends of saints, and several religious books. 
 One cannot help feeling sorry that among all these he did not 
 print the Bible; bat at this time it was forbidden by law to 
 circulate WyclinVs Bible, and had he printed it most likely he 
 and his printing-presses would have come to a very summary 
 end. There seems little doubt that he was a simple-hearted, 
 religious man, and when beginning any work he would oiler a 
 short prayer that be might be able to bring it to a good end, " to 
 the honour and glory of Almighty God." 
 
 Some of the very books he printed are to be seen now in the 
 British Museum. 
 
 11. Though Caxton and his work are much more interesting 
 than Edward IV., we must now go back to him, who no doubt 
 thought himself of far more importance. Having conquered all 
 his opponents at borne, be began to think of making himself busy 
 abroad, and going to war with France again, which the English 
 were generally glad enough to do. For this purpose, of course, 
 plenty of money was required, and though the parliament, 
 in a lawful way, gave him a large sum, he still thought he 
 wanted more. With all bis apparent good nature, Edward had 
 a stnmg will and arbitrary character. He did not like to be 
 dependent on parliament for money or anything else, yet he did 
 
 dare, aa some Lings had tried to do before him, to lay on 
 - without its consent. II" bethought him of a very ingenious 
 
 expedient, which was to ask the rich citizens out of kindness to 
 give him a large sum of money, which was called a 
 
 Benevolences. „ benevolence," or token of good will. In truth, the
 
 xxxviii.] THE END OF THE WAR. 383 
 
 citizens would much rather not have given it, but they dared not 
 refuse; "as though," says More, "the name of benevolence had 
 signified that every man should pay. not what he himself of his 
 good will list to grant, but what the king of his good will list to 
 take." So, though bearing so pleasing a name, it was to all 
 intents and purposes an additional tax. and we shall hear more 
 about the effects of tin- ingenious idea by and bye. Meanwhile, 
 though he got so much money, tin- war came to nothing. 
 
 L2. There was a new King of France now, Louis XI., who was 
 as wicked as the worst France ever had, and much more clevi c 
 than most of them. He- did not wish to go to war 
 with England, having his hands full of other busi- The King of 
 
 • by skill and bribes he contrived to make 
 friends with Edward and his counsellors and send them all hack 
 to England. The two kings m b, bul their first interview was a 
 very singular one; it took place on a bridge over the river Somme, 
 nol far from Amiens. Nobody had yel forgotten the murder of 
 the I >uke of Bui ajundy by the dauphin on the bridge at Monte- 
 reau; accordingly, these two civilized, polished, and Christian 
 kings could nol approach each other withoul as greal precau* 
 tions as if they had been will beasl i. Across the mi. Idle of the 
 bridge a strong barricade ■■ i isting of a firm grating 
 
 or lattice work, such as lion are made of; the Bpace 
 
 between the bars was jus! wide enough to admit a man's arm. 
 Tier two kings bowed bo each other in the most polite and 
 i . ctful manner, one on each side of the barrier, and then 
 embraced each other through the holes of bhe grating. After a 
 and friendly conversation, in which bhe chronicler tells ua 
 
 I i. of England poki ""I French, they shook hands 
 through tie and parted Soon afterwards Edward 
 
 :nd t.. England with verv little glory but plenty of French 
 
 money. 
 
 13. All this time Richard was still watching bi rtunity, 
 
 i er flinching in hi- determination bo irrive at bhe bhrone at. 
 
 . qo mattei who ■■' ""1 in Ids way. 'II nemies of his hou e, 
 
 II iry VI. and lo . being dead, ami Benry of Richmond 
 beu hed to Brittany, there only remained his own 
 
 one t.i die was his brother < llarence, 
 who was older than he, ami therefore bad a better chance. 
 Clarence had already played the traitor twice, but he does not 
 appear to have done any barm nee. n> ■•. .i .•. . tb ber of 
 lard's wife, and he had bwo young children. Edward was 
 now induced to charge him with treason, and, itrangei till, with
 
 384 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 necromancy, or magic, and to commit him to the Tower. Once 
 
 in the Tower, we may be sure of what happened next In ten 
 
 davs he was dead. How he died could never be 
 
 1478. exactly known, though it was said he was drowned 
 
 Death of in a j mtt of jyfalmsey w ine. Richard gets all the 
 
 Clarence. ... . ,,. , , 
 
 credit oi this murder also. 
 
 14. Five years afterthat (though Shakespeare makes it happen 
 when Edward was on his death-bed) the king died, leaving all 
 the nobles ready to fly at each other's throats as soon as he was 
 gone. The hatred between the older nobles and the queen's 
 relations was as virulent as ever. Edward tried to make up a 
 kind of peace between them as he lay dying, but the hollow 
 promises they made to please him were not likely to be kept. 
 
 15. As soon as he died the struggle began. On the one side 
 \\ re the poor little- boy, Edward V., who was about thirteen 
 
 years old, his brother Richard, two years younger, 
 1483 - his mother, her brother and other relations, and 
 
 Edward°lV 80me * ew 11 " 1 ' 1 ' s WM " were faithful to them; on the 
 other the proud, cruel, remorseless Richard, with 
 some of the most powerful of the nobles, who hated the queen's 
 family, though they meant no ill to the young princes. The 
 most important were the Duke of Buckingham, who was a 
 relation to the family of Lancaster, ami Lord Hastings. Of 
 these two we hear that, they did not bear "to each other so 
 much love, as hatred both to the queen's blood." Edward V. 
 Mas only king, or the little shadow of a king, for three months, 
 and was never crowned, though he is always reckoned among 
 the kings of England. 
 
 L6. When his lather died the young prince was at Ludlow 
 I tie, on the holders of Wales, where he was being educated by 
 his uncle, Lord Livers, the same who had helped Caxton, and 
 who had collected the sayings of the philosophers. Being a 
 gallant and accomplished man, he was a very suitable person to 
 educate a young king, and it, appears that he was bringing him 
 up with great ten and wisdom, and that Edward was 
 
 much attached to him. His only fault appears to have been 
 that he was the queen's brother. 
 
 17. Richard determined to get his young nephews into his 
 
 i power, and to separate them from their mother and her 
 
 relations, who would protect them. He had no great 
 
 Richard's difficulty before him so far, because of the jealousy 
 
 designs. ^ ^ ^ ]>(;St Q | t ] |f . no bility against these mush- 
 room lords. Richard used this jealousy very skilfully for his
 
 xxxviii.] THE END OF THE WAR. 385 
 
 own purposes ; the Duke of Buckingham, especially, " promised 
 to wait upon him with a thousand good fellows, if need were." 
 
 18. The first thing he did was to go to meet the young king, 
 who was travelling up from Ludlow for his coronation, and to 
 remove him from his uncle, his half-brother, and other friends 
 and attendants. The poor boy "wept, and was not content, 
 but it booted not." Lord Rivera and the others were sent off to 
 Eotnfrel Castle, where they were very soon after beheaded 
 without any trial. 
 
 19. When the queen heard thai Richard had taken possession 
 of the young king, though he still kept up all outward forms of 
 propriety, and pretended that he did it for his greater g 1. her 
 
 her, and she. fled once more to the sanctuary, 
 taking the little Richard, Duke of York, with her, and there she 
 sate "alone on the rushes, all desolate and dismayed." 
 
 20. She v. n over-persuaded to give the child up, the 
 Archbishop of < lanterbury being sent by the Duke of Gloucester 
 with man} fair words and arguments to prevail on her. Jlut it 
 
 vi;li doubt and feartb nted. "And therewithal," 
 
 writ •• she I to tin- child, ' Farewell, mine own sweet 
 
 K'lii ; God send I keeping; lei me once kiss you ere you 
 
 go, for Qod knoweth when we shall kiss together again;' and 
 ■with Bhe kissed him and I I him, and turned her back 
 
 and wept, going her way, leaving the poor innocent child 
 as i he mot her." 
 The Duke of Gloucestei was appointed Protector 
 of the kin dom. and the two little princes wi re Bent T ! ie y° un K 
 
 ,, ., , ill ,i princes sent 
 
 to the I • • ■ . "after « hich day th< c c ime F t0 tho 
 
 "Rough cradle for those little pretty lower, 
 aid their mother. 
 
 21. Now that these helpless children, his last rival-, were in 
 his power, Rich im more openly at the crown. But 
 ship- who had followed him thu far now bi in I i hang bai k ; 
 Lord H in particular, would not betray the a I hia 
 
 ter. 
 In all th what Beema to have struck people 
 
 in- ■ I; chard's wonderful hyp We read b iw he 
 
 into the council with a smili though thu I 
 
 nothing amiss, and talking to the Bishop of ' »oul the lin<' 
 
 Btrawberriea which grew in hi en <• Solborn (where ih<' 
 
 little lane called Ely Place now is), and then coming in again, 
 an hour or two after, pretending to have found out a dreadful 
 plot in the interval, " all ch withaaour, luntenance, 
 
 c o
 
 3S6 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 knitting the brows, frowning and fretting, gnawing of his lips," 
 and declaring lie will not dine till lie has Lord Hastings' head. 
 
 22. .Sir Thomas More tells all this as vividly as if he had seen 
 it with his own eyes. Ho probably learnt it from Morton, the. 
 Bishop of Ely, who had such fine strawberries, and who really 
 did see and hear it all. But as this Morton was imprisoned by 
 Richard, and was afterwards one. of his most active opponents, 
 we must conclude that he would hardly he an impartial observer, 
 and perhaps gave Richard a more dreadful character than ho 
 really deserved. 
 
 23. Even after the execution, or rather the murder of Hastings, 
 the Duke of Buckingham still supported Richard and helped 
 him in all his devices. They tried hard to get the people of 
 1. nut Ion to side with them, and to cry out for "King Richard." 
 Richard set himself forth "'as a godly prince, clean and faultless 
 of himself, sent out of heaven into this vicious world for the 
 amendment of men's manners." They got a clergyman to preach 
 for him, and to say that all the royal family, his two dead 
 brothers, and his two young nephews, all excepting himself, were 
 illegitimate, and that there was no one to compare with Richard ; 
 but the people "stood as if they hail been turned to stones." 
 Then the Duke of Buckingham himself made a fine speech to the 
 citizens, all about the goodness of Richard, and the safety, 
 wealth, and prosperity they would enjoy were he once king; and 
 he spoke so eloquently " that every man much marvelled, and 
 thought that they never heard in their lives so evil a tale so well 
 told." Nevertheless, the citizens were "as still as midnight." 
 
 2-4. Richard still would not actually seize on the crown by 
 force ; he knew very well that the English were a people "whom 
 no man earthly can govern against their wills." At 
 , a L IS last the parliament, the lords and commons, were 
 over- persuaded to come to him and offer him the 
 crown. He pretended to be very unwilling to accept it, and they 
 then, headed by the Duke of Buckingham, assured him that if 
 he refused they would choose some other king. All this hanging 
 back and persuasion were, in fact, nothing but a kind of play- 
 acting arranged by Richard and Buckingham in secret, and when 
 it had gone far enough Richard condescended to accept that 
 which he was longing for, telling the parliament that his title of 
 birth was now joined to the election of the nobles and commons 
 of the realm, " which," said he, " we, of all titles possible, take 
 for most effectual." 
 
 25. He was now solemnly proclaimed, and was crowned, like
 
 xxxvm.] THE END OF THE WAR. 3S7 
 
 the best of English kings, at Westminster Abbey. He offered 
 offerings at St. Edward's shrine, " while the monks sang Te Deurn 
 ■with a faint courage." Bis wife was crowned with him, and her 
 train was borne by the Countess of Richmond, the mother of 
 Henry, who was biding his time in Brittany. We do not know 
 what she might be thinking as she walked behind the new queen, 
 but we know that there was trouble in store for Richard already. 
 Tli>.! Duke of Buckingham, his most last friend and ally, had 
 irn against him in secret, whether from jealousy or 
 some persona] grudges, lb' appeared at the coronation gorgeously 
 apparelled, but be "rode with an evil will, and worse heart." 
 
 26. Richard, however, began his reign very well. Hi- really 
 seemed for a time to deserve those high praises which the French- 
 man gives him. After his coronation be sent the 
 
 nobles who had attended it back into their own e *i\ es 
 
 ... . . well. 
 
 c^ui iving them "strait charge and command- 
 
 ment well ordered, and that no wrong nor 
 
 irtion should be done to bis subjects." He summoned a par- 
 liament; be declared he would restore the old liberties of I. 
 land, and abolish all oppr< 3sion Buch as bis brother had practised, 
 dally those '' benevolences," which were so heartily disliked. 
 II ■ protected and helped the merchants ; be encouraged literature, 
 and the printing and selling of books. He it free a few bond- 
 men wlc. were still living on the royal estates (for though it might 
 lly there were no villeins left, strictly speak- 
 
 ing, there lingered yet a few, though hardly enough to be noticed). 
 lb- did, In short, all be could to win popularity. 
 
 ■_'7. but not all this could make people forget bis crimes. And 
 now he added one more, the most horrible of all, ami the one 
 which in:! bi name to be shuddered at to this 
 bour— the murder of the innocent children in the Deathofth ° 
 
 'r ii ii i ci princes. 
 
 Lower. <M course, like all the real oi those murd 
 it could never be exactly proved, but every our believed that the 
 two Little princes were smothered in their bed, and every one 
 believes it now. 
 
 After that no one any longer cared for bis just government, or 
 ibolishing the benevolences. Every one, loathed and abhorre I 
 him as a fiend in human shape. " WTien the fame of this det< I 
 able fact," saj More, " was revealed and divulged through the 
 whol realm, there fell generally such a dolour and inward sorrow 
 into the hearl of all the people, that they in every town, street, 
 and place openly wept and piteously sobbed." VVTienever there 
 was a gnat thunderstorm, or a tempestuous wind, " they did 
 
 c c 2
 
 383 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 openly cry and make vociferation that God would take vengeance, 
 and punish the poi.r Englishmen for the crime and offence of 
 their ungracious king." 
 
 28. And now what had heen threatened in a sort of jest, when 
 Richard and Buckingham had acted their play together, began to 
 he thought of in earnest. People began to look out for another 
 king. The royal houses of York and Lancaster were all but 
 
 extinct; of Lancaster not one legitimate member 
 
 Henry Tudor remained ; but there was still that Henry Tudor of 
 
 comes whom we have already heard, and who had begun 
 
 to be looked on as the representative of the lie* I 
 Rose. Henry VI., who was now regarded as a saint, was said to 
 have prophesied of him that he should be king, and "England's 
 bliss," and the enemies of Richard set all their hearts and hopes 
 upon him. To make his title better, it was proposed that he 
 should marry the Princess Elizabeth, eldest daughter of Edward 
 IV. ; thus both the rival houses, the Red and toe White, Roses, 
 would be at last united. 
 
 29. But Richard thought to be beforehand with them there. 
 Hi-; first plan was to marry the princess to his own only son, but 
 
 he died just about this time. Richard had .shown 
 The Princess De f ore now fbat he would stop at nothing; and though 
 
 York n ' ; ^ad a w * , ' e ;i ' n ' a ''. v - 1"' determined to put her out 
 of the way, and many his own niece Elizabeth sooner 
 than let Henry Tudor win her. He expected to gain the Pope's 
 consent to this marriage, though it was contrary to all the laws 
 of the Church and the country; but the Popes, who, as we have 
 seen, professed to have the power of dispensing men from keep- 
 ing their oaths and promisi -. considered themselves also entitled 
 Lispense them from obeying the most sacred laws in other mat- 
 . and in this of marriage more particularly. He would per- 
 il, ips have succeeded in gaining the Pope's permission, since he 
 gained what we should have thought far more difficult, the con- 
 sent of the princess and her mother Elizabeth. 
 
 But though poor Queen Anne died just at the convenient sea- 
 son, yet the whole country was JO disgusted and soaverse to this 
 unnatural marriage that it had to be given up, and in due time 
 Henry Tudor got the princess for himself. 
 
 30. Meanwhile nearly all the most important people in the 
 tountry were joining Henry's party; amongst them Morton, the 
 Bishop of Ely, who had been imprisoned by Richard, but had 
 made his escape. The Duke of Buckingham also revolted openly. 
 lb- perceived that Richard was " disdained of the lords temporal,
 
 xxxvin.] THE END OF THE WAR. 3S» 
 
 execrate and accursed of all the lords spiritual, detested of all 
 gentlemen, and despised of all the commonalty." Well might he 
 say, as Shakespeare makes him do, '"There is no creature loves 
 me." 
 
 31. Henry's tirst attempt at invasion failed, and after it the 
 Imk>- of Buckingham was captured and beheaded ; but the prince 
 soon came again, landing in Wales, where he had 
 many friends, being partly a Welshman himself . On 
 hi- march forward more and more adherents joined i$ oswor th 
 him. 11'- and Richard met at Bosworth Field, near Field. 
 Leicester. Richard, with all bis faults, was very 
 courageous, and he fought bravely now, but all in vain. It was 
 baps quite true, as Henry says Lu the play — 
 
 "Richard except, tl whom we fight against 
 
 Had rather nave ua win than biro they follow." 
 
 was the last battle of the Wars of the Roses, and it was 
 quite characteristic of those wars that its fate was decided by 
 
 bery, <>r, if we can hardly call it treachery, by one of the 
 
 principal lea I Richard's army going over to Henry's side. 
 
 This was Lord Derby or Stanley, who was stepfather to Henry ; 
 
 though Ins mothei was always called Countess of Richmond, 
 
 bad, after the death of Henry's father, married the Earl of 
 
 ■ v. Richard was therefore vei iciout of him; so much 
 
 s. i tli.it. he kept his Bon Geoi i hostage, and when he 
 
 that Derby had de erted him he instantly exclaimed, "Off with 
 i id." Bui the rest, aot knowing yet bow the 
 
 le might turn, thought it more prudent to wait a Little before 
 obeying, and bo the young man's life was Baved. Richard was 
 defeated and killed ; hi crown was found banging on a hawthorn 
 bush on the battle-field, and waa placed by Lord Derby on the 
 
 , of the victorious 1 tenry, 
 
 In the atained win. lows of Henry VII. 's Chapel in 
 
 Westminstei A.bbey, b the union ol the Ked and White 
 
 Roses, which appears over aud over s iin, we maj ei also the 
 
 of the hawthorn tn orth Field, with the golden 
 
 • i •. :, ibove it.
 
 390 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY [i.ect. 
 
 LECTURE XXXIX.— THE RENAISSANCE. 
 
 Peace after war. Henry VII. His character. He suppresses the power 
 of the nobles. England prospers. Discovery of America. The revival 
 of learning. 
 
 1. "From town to town, from tower to tower, 
 The Red Rose is a gladsome flower. 
 Her thirty years of winter past, 
 The Red Hose is revived at last. 
 She lifts her head for endless spring, 
 For everlasting blossoming; 
 Both Roses flourish, Red and White, 
 In love and sisterly delight ; 
 The two that were at strife are blended, 
 And all old troubles now are ended." 
 
 So sang, or so might sing, the minstrels after this victory 
 
 ■which brought again peace to England. But, though the time 
 
 was such a joyful one, there is not much very interest- 
 
 vtt * n " ^° ^ e sa ^ a ' Jout Henry VII. himself. He was 
 
 not like any of the kings we have had to do with 
 
 lately ; not a hero like Henry V., nor a saint like Henry VI., 
 
 noi a murdering fiend like Richard III. He was what we may 
 
 call commonplace. " As his face was neither strange nor dark, 
 
 so neither was it winning nor pleasing," says his biographer; 
 
 and much the same might be said of his character. 
 
 He was very prudent and sensible. He married Elizabeth of 
 York, though he does not seem to have been very fond of her. 
 He was formally accepted as kiiiL. r by the parliament, and he 
 took care not to get embroiled with it at any future time. 
 
 2. All the Tudor sovereigns were noted for having what we 
 call "a will of their own," and had a great inclination to be 
 despotic. Henry VII. had this too, but he contrived to gratify 
 it without openly breaking the laws. He by no means liked to 
 be shackled and controlled by parliament, and very seldom 
 allowed it to meet. Of course the great difficulty about this 
 was the money ; but as Henry loved money just as well as he 
 1 rved his own will, he contrived, without exactly breaking the 
 law, to get a great deal.
 
 xxxix.] THE RENAISSANCE. 391 
 
 3. At one time he professed to be going to war with France. 
 
 Then he summoned parliament, and induced them to vote him 
 
 . after which he did not go to war at all, but kept 
 
 money. He followed Edward IV.'s example in raising 
 
 nevolences," which Richard III. had abolished; but, as the 
 
 rich citizens liked paying them no better than before, they soon 
 
 came to be called "malevolences." Ili^ principal minister and 
 
 prime counsellor for a long time was Morton, the Bishop of 
 
 Ely, ili'- same who grew such fine strawberries in Holborn, and 
 
 who was afterwards promoted to be archbishop, cardinal, and 
 
 He aided his master very cleverly in the matter of 
 
 " benevolen For if a man lived handsomely, in a fine 
 
 -••, with plenty of servants, the bishop would 
 
 lenl be was a wealthy man, and had f r ^ n8 
 money '■■ 1 ; and '• there is no reas m," said be, 
 "but for your prince's service you should do so much more, and 
 therefore you must pay." But if a man lived humbly and 
 frugally, making no Bhow at all, then it was evidenl that lit; 
 must have saved up a g 1 deal, as he spenl bo little; "there- 
 fore, be content, you musl pay." This was called " MEorton's 
 fork," b if a man could slip off one prong he got caught 
 mi the other. 
 
 1. Towards the end of his reign the king got two griping, 
 cunning lawyers, Empson and Dudley, to help him. They 
 raked up all sorts of old batutes and pretexts for screwing 
 money out of people, by fair means or unfair, and made them- 
 selves li ited and dreaded bj all the people in the land. 
 
 In all ' rays Henry contrived to gel a large hoard of 
 
 money, and was able to go on year after year without summoi 
 parliament, and to ruli he and his friends and counsellors 
 
 chose. I ■■ ides keeping the parliament down in 
 this way, he took great pains to lessen the power of Power of 
 the nobles, and enforced a very stern law against jij?i«i°.i,f! 
 
 D Ullllllilsll' Id 
 
 their keeping Buch bands "I retainers and armed 
 
 followers as made them formidable. Edward I V. had already 
 
 tried to break down tfa er, and Henry did so still mi 
 
 were determined to have no more noblemen like the I irl 
 of Warwick, who could make or unmake kings at his pleasure. 
 6. Henry once went to pay a visit to the Earl of Oxford, who 
 
 h id been one of thi era of I he II of I .an 
 
 caster (a id in ■ Am f I leier t< in '), The Earl 
 
 received him with great honour, and two long lines of retain 
 wearing his livery, were drawn up to receive him. These
 
 302 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 retainers in their master's livery were just what Henry was 
 determined fco put down ; so when he touk leave of the earl, 
 having first inquired whether all these men were his household 
 servants, and hearing that they were not servants, but retainers, 
 Henry said, " I thank you for your good cheer, my lord, but I 
 may not endure to have my laws broken in my sight. My 
 attorney must speak with you." And the earl had to pay a 
 fine of £10,000, and was very glad to escape perhaps without 
 paying his head too. 
 
 7. Though the noblemen were still very grand outwardly, 
 they thus lost much of their power, and never recovered it. 
 The Wars of the Eoses had probably made them much poorer 
 al.-o, even those who had escaped with their lives. They seem 
 to have lived in what we should think a very rougli and rude 
 way, and were extremely economical in some matters. One of 
 them, the Earl of Northumberland, left a very curious book 
 behind him, a sort of account book, which tells us a good deal 
 about the household ways of a great Lord 
 
 8. This earl had three country houses in Yorkshire, and he 
 divided his time between them, but he had only furniture for 
 
 one. So when he moved from one to another he 
 A noble- j uu i ^ Q ^ a ] C( , a jj ^ig t,l i i nj^s — beds, tables, chairs, 
 man s house- , . , ■, £ , , • . -, 
 
 keeping kitchen Qtensils— after him, in carts and waggons. 
 
 The servants who took care of the kitchen things, 
 the pots and pans, and smh like, were called the "blackguard;" 
 and as they were probably the lowest of all the household, that 
 name cane' by degrees to mean any kind of low, coarse, rude 
 person. .My lord and my lady had breakfast every day at seven 
 ick; not a very refined one, we should call it. They had a 
 quart of beer and a quarl of wine, half a chine of boiled beef or 
 mutton, or, on fasting days, salt fish, red herrings, or sprats. 
 For dinner they would have sometimes chickens, geese, pork, 
 or peacocks. Turkeys were quite unknown. A chicken cost a 
 halfpenny; a goose threepence or fourpence; a pheasant or a 
 peacock a shilling. 
 
 'J. They had not yet learnt how to feed cattle all the year, so 
 they seem only to have had fresh beef between Midsummer and 
 Michaelmas; the servants lived on salt meat nearly all the 
 year round, with very few vegetables. Everyone was kept in 
 high order. The mass was said every morning at six o'clock, so 
 that all the servants might be obliged to get up early. They 
 had orders how many slices of meat were to be cut out of each 
 joint ; they had orders even how to make their mustard, begin-
 
 xxxix.] THE RENAISSANCE. 393 
 
 aing in b v"i -y lordly way : " It seemetli good to us and to our 
 Council;" they had orders how many fires were to be lighted; 
 and very cold they must often have been, Bince no fires were 
 allowed after Lady-day, except for my lord, and my lady, their 
 eldest son, and in the nursery. 
 
 10. The grand economy of all, however, appears to have beeD 
 in linen and washing. En the whole establishment (1GG persons, 
 
 more than I ingers daily) there were nine table-cloths : 
 
 beets at all; and the washing-bill for the whole 
 rty shillings, including the linen belonging to the 
 chapeL The dirt in those days musl have been awful! No 
 doubt tl. ;. in;, lord and my lady travelled about from one 
 
 ■ , auothi much inconvenience, must have been the 
 
 which i sen Elizabeth afterwards to make many 
 
 I | . namely, thai the bou-<e or palace after a time 
 
 idfully dirt an old writer Bays, "with con- 
 
 tinual usage the house waxed unsavoury," so that it w 
 to move "ii her. 
 
 11. The i ip down the overweening power of the 
 nobility, Henrj i the middle • who were con- 
 
 ince ; not only the rich merchant 
 the ' • tli" farmers and yeomenofthe country. <»n 
 
 he did the country g 1 ; after the long 
 
 ond disturbanci there was peace and order, and the laws 
 • -.1 (al least in the letti 1 1. 
 
 12. In Ins time, too, the fire) real steps were taken towards 
 mil' i land of Gr< Bril dn, which had been 
 io long at variance with it elf. Many efforts had 
 
 been made to draw all the different races Progress 
 in i it into one nation under one head. Eve* *•?' 
 
 • ili" old times, when tli" lish (i . 
 
 kin re the Norman Conqui I had made the Britain. 
 
 prin' • - of Wales and >• otlaud 'I" hoi i I ■ them, 
 it h I [ward I. had conquered 
 
 Wal triven, thou 'Ii in vain, to conquer & 
 
 land. But now time icefully preparing what bad never 
 
 led by war and conqui 
 I :;. Though Wal been conquered by Edward I., the 
 
 \\ , had ii' - in ler the English rulw, and 
 
 ■ . ri '"I. a i hey did und< c • iwen < rlendower, in 
 I! ,rv [V.'s time, But now that a Wei hmaa wa tin 
 land they became quite reconciled to their position, no 
 ing upon them [uered people, but
 
 394 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect 
 
 t 
 
 part of the same nation ; and from this time onward we hear of 
 no more troubles in Wales. 
 
 14. Henry VII. also paved the way for the union of England 
 and Scotland, which had been such dangerous and harassing 
 neighbours to each other for centuries, by marrying his daughter 
 Margaret to the King of Scotland. A great deal of trouble 
 came out of that marriage for a time, but the end of it was 
 that at last the royal families of England and Scotland became 
 one. 
 
 15. Thus, though Henry was an uninteresting and unheroic 
 character, his reign was, on the whole, of service to the country. 
 
 He made what seemed a very prudent match for his 
 
 The Princess eldest son, Prince Arthur, by marrying him to a 
 
 ofsriain 16 princess of Spain, which country was now becoming 
 
 very strong and important. A few months after 
 the marriage, however, the prince, who was but sixteen years 
 old, died. Henry, who wished to continue the alliance with 
 Spain, and was also very unwilling to give back the princess's 
 money, then obtained the Pope's dispensation, and married her 
 to his next son, Henry, who was only twelve years old, while 
 the wife who was forced upon him was six years older. He 
 seems to have objected very strongly to the marriage, as was 
 only natural. This match led to still more important con- 
 sequences than that between .Margaret and the King of Scotland, 
 as we shall see. 
 
 16. Henry VII. had not much peace for some time after hi3 
 succession. His own title to the crown not being very good, 
 
 except so far as parliament had accepted him, there 
 
 Pretenders aroS( . pretenders to it, who gave him a great deal of 
 
 crown. trouble. The first of these gave himself out for the 
 
 young son of the Duke of Clarence, who was called 
 
 J. ill of Warwick, after his grandfather, the king-maker, and who 
 
 really shut up in prison all this time for no offence whatever 
 
 except his birth. This pretender was really named 
 
 Lambert Simnel, and was the son of a carpenter. 
 
 17. The second professed to be Richard, Duke of York, the 
 poor young boy who, as there seems no reason to doubt, had 
 
 been murdered in the Tower, but who was now said to 
 have escaped. Every one now believes that this 
 "claimant" was one Perkin Warbeck, born at Tournay, in 
 Flanders. But both the adventurers, and especially the last, 
 found great allies and supporters. The old friends and relations 
 of the House of York, and the nobility whom Henry was
 
 xxxix ] THE RENAISSANCE. 395 
 
 humiliating, were ready enough to turn against him. Edward 
 LV.'s sister, the Duchess of Burgundy, favoured them both, 
 acknowledged them as her nephews, and gave them money and 
 aid to invade England. The King of Scotland favoured Perkin, 
 and married him to a relation of his own. 
 
 18. But in the end first one and then the other fell into 
 Henry's power. Lambert Simnel lie did not fear enough to be 
 cru.'l to : he gave him his pardon, and, from being a prince and 
 Karl "i W.u .vick, the poor foolish fellow was glad enough to be 
 made a scullion in the king's kitchen. But Perkin, who was 
 
 ■ dangerous, and had given a great deal more trouble, was 
 imprisoned in tin; Tower, and a year or two after was put to 
 death. The real Earl of Warwick, who had been drawn into 
 joining hi- fellow-pruoner in an attempt to escape, was beheaded 
 also; Eenry, perhaps, being glad of an excuse to get his only 
 real rival nut of the way, for this unfortunate young prince was 
 tin- sole n. air descendant of the Plantagenets left. This execu- 
 tion was the only violent or cruel art of Benry's reign. 
 
 19. Not only was the rule of Eenry VII. quietly serviceable 
 t'> the country, hut the time itself was a must, interesting ona 
 All ' wonderful things were being don ■ thought, which 
 
 ited the minds of men, opened their eyes, and stirred their 
 
 The dawn of the new day, which had been 
 
 Gradually rising, from th of Wycliffe and . 
 
 "' ii." ti naissauce. 
 
 ( haucei onward, had grown very bright now. Lhe 
 
 old times, which were almost worn out, wen' passing away, and 
 
 ere beginning. This period at the close of the Wars 
 
 of the Roses, was 1 he end of the middle 
 
 , and the death of the feud d -\ stem. 
 
 20. Bui if it was the death ol one order of things, it was the 
 lit" and new birth of oth expressed by the very name 
 ■which this period often bears — the Etenai ince, the being born 
 
 ten now went back to very old time , winch 
 had been long buried and nearly forgotten, and, as it were, 
 brought them to life again. And many quite new and won- 
 derful things came to IT'' now also, so that it was a timi 
 
 ad stir, lull oi . and anticipat ion, and 
 
 wonder. 
 
 We shall Brsl notice one or two of the quite new things which 
 came into life, and then some ol the quite old ones which were 
 revived. 
 
 l' I . fust, then, we may almostsay the world itself grew larger, 
 as if to make room for the great hopes and schemes of men, hy
 
 396 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 the discovery of America. Hitherto only the three 
 ^America continents of Europe, Asia, and Africa had been 
 
 known ; but now the two great Americas were added 
 to the map of the world. At first, of course, only small parts 
 were touched at and discovered ; but whatever was seen and 
 gradually approached must have struck the imagination very 
 forcibly. In America everything seems immense; the moun- 
 tains, the rivers, the lakes are all on a vast scale compared with 
 any of those in Europe. As travellers saw more and more of 
 these they must have been amazed. Then there were the 
 wonderful vegetation : the infinite forests, the giant trees, the 
 climbing plants, the flowers ; the strange animals, lovely hum- 
 miug-birds, and uncouth alligators; and, again, the curious red- 
 hued men: some half savage, some civilized after a fashion of 
 their own, with their religion, their temples, their arts, and history, 
 and Legends. In this region too there were great stores of gold, 
 which has always had a fascination for the eyes of man. The al- 
 chemists, with all their toil, had never succeeded in making one 
 of those pure shining grains ; but here it was in abundance. 
 All this was very exciting and animating. It was really a new 
 world opening. Never, in all our Jives, can we know what it 
 was to find oneself living on the brink of such a wonderland as 
 America seemed for the first hundred years or more after its 
 discovei 
 
 22. It would have been a great pride and pleasure to have 
 been able to say that England had the glory of discovering, or 
 
 - helping to discover, this new world beyond the sea. It was 
 almost by chance that she did not, as Christopher Columbus, 
 who could not find any one to help him with money or ships, 
 though he applied to Genoa, Portugal, and Spain, one after the 
 other, at last sent his brother Bartholomew to England, to see if 
 its king would tielp him. Henry VII., notwithstanding his love 
 of money, was a very sagacious, sensible man, and was thought 
 very highly of tin at Europe. 
 
 23. Unfortunately, the brother of Columbus in travelling to 
 England fell among thieves, or pirates, who stripped him so far 
 literally of his raiment, that when he at last got to London he 
 was in such miserable plight as not to have even a decent coat 
 in which he could venture to appear at court. Before doing any- 
 thing else he was obliged to try and earn money; and this he 
 did by drawing and selling maps. (This in itself shows a kind 
 of intellectual activity among the people; had they not taken some 
 interest in geography they would not have wanted Bartholo*
 
 xxxix.] THE RENAISSANCE. 397 
 
 mew's maps.) At last he contrived to get access to the king, 
 laid before him all his brother's schemes and ideas, and met with 
 a favourable reception. Henry was quite sensible enough to see, 
 what 80 few others could, how likely Columbus was to prove 
 right. 
 
 24. Columbus, it should be remembered, did not expect to 
 discover a new world at all, but only to get round that way to 
 India, and this was how the islands at which he first arrived 
 
 received the name of th« "West Indies." People had long 1 n 
 
 convinced thai the world was not, as the ancients had thought, 
 flat like a plate, bul round like a globe; and even two or three 
 hundred years before this had had ideas thai it might be possible 
 
 dl all round it, though no one had ever dared try to do so. 
 They were, however, learning to take long voyages now. Some 
 
 time bef this the mariner's compass had Keen invented, by the 
 
 help of which sailors mighl venture to cross the sea, instead of 
 only keepin the land, as the Greeks and Romans used to 
 
 25. II- nr was favourably inclined to the scheme of ( lolumbus, 
 and though he hesitated taking up his mind, it is quite 
 
 ible that, bul for Bartholomew's long delay, he would have 
 e I., in oul the expedition, and send the discoverer 
 on bis way. Bul meanwhile Columbus himself, not hearing any 
 news from bis brother, had gained the favour of Queen Isabella 
 of Castile, and it n who had the honour of helping him 
 
 to Am 
 
 26. Thus the di covprj of the New World cannol be called 
 of the I ' ! oid ; '• terward 1 1 
 did Bend oul an expedition to the new continent, 
 
 led by I '. a Vent ti in, who had 
 
 ■ 1 in I H< l many ol ber pari - of North 
 
 Am l of Newfoundland ; theveryparl which 
 
 . filled I hmen. I hi we may call t he first 
 
 I i ilonial empin . 1 1 it hei to I n [land 
 
 had had no t far had pi 1 well enough with- 
 
 population w i ill then compared to 
 
 and the land could maintain it- | pie P rbapa 
 
 as many people as now li 
 London al »ne. Bat li t te p ipulal io and 
 
 mull . ii iv bee a f u all, pent up 
 
 font vliii:', aoless we could send 
 
 forth oui children to other land- beyond th Now we 
 
 our thriving col America, Africa, A i tralia, New
 
 393 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [lect. 
 
 Zealand; great healthy children, far bigger than their mother ; 
 and, as was noticed before, our language is spoken more widely 
 and universally than any other in the world. And of all this the 
 seeds were sown in Henry VII.'s reign. 
 
 27. It was not very long after this that people began to 
 understand more about the real system of the universe. We 
 have seen what men believed in the middle ages about the earth, 
 the sun, and the stars. The earth was fixed in the centre of all 
 things, and the sun, and stars, and planets revolved around it, 
 
 each in its own sphere. But now an astronomer 
 Copernicus. name( j Copernicus, a native of Prussia, began to 
 understand that this was not so ; that the earth was not fixed 
 and immovable, and the centre of the universe, but a planet 
 like Mars, and Venus, and the others, and that they all revolved 
 around the sun, just as we now know to be true. This was 
 another great discovery, and was the beginning of modern 
 astronomy. 
 
 28. In some other things men really made great progress by 
 going back. One of these was learning, the other was religion. 
 
 We know that, long ages ago, and before Christ came, when 
 the Germans, and French, and English were still wild savages, 
 there had been a wonderfully great and civilized 
 Revival of na tj, m living in Greece. Up to this hour we still 
 eammg. ^^ ()| ^ ^ (;n . ( .| <s in ma ny ways were far higher 
 than ourselves. They had great poets, whose works we love to 
 read, and the greatest of modern Englishmen still try to trans- 
 late them. Two very eminent statesmen have both made trans- 
 lations of Homer quite lately; besides some of our fine poets 
 ol former days, Chapman, Pope, and Cowpei. Others of the 
 i rreek poets wrote grand plays, both tragedies and comedies. 
 
 29. Again, they had philosophers, who still seem to us wiser 
 than any one but Christ, and the prophets, and apostles. They 
 had historians who wrote the most delightful and interesting 
 histories. They had artists who could carve and sculpture marble 
 more wonderfully than any one can do now, and from whom 
 all modern artists learn lessons of beauty and grace. And they 
 had architects who built magnificent temples, such as most 
 modern architects have tried to imitate. 
 
 30. Besides all this, the New Testament, as we know, was in 
 Greek. But for many centuries nobody had been able to read 
 all those wonderful books— the poetry, or the history, or the 
 philosophy. Nobody knew Creek ; only learned men knew 
 Latin ; and the Latin had become very bad and absurd. Mediaeval
 
 xxxix.] THE RENAISSANCE. 399 
 
 Latin is most unlike real good Latin. The clergy looked on 
 Greek as a wicked and heathenish Language ; all they knew of 
 the Bible was from a very imperfect translation into Latin called 
 the Vulgate ; all they knew of the philosophers, of Plato and 
 Aristotle, was from some translations made by the Arabs into 
 Arabic, and out of Arabic translated again into Latin, with notes 
 added which often quite altered the sense. 
 
 31. Lut just now a great disaster befell Europe which (as 
 frequently happens) brought some good after it. This was the 
 taking l jtantinople by the Turks. For after all the Cru- 
 3 which had been fought to drive the Mahometans even out 
 of Palestine, the end had been thai they bad come steadily 
 forward, had passed from Asia into Europe, tak*-n possession of 
 Turkey and Hungary, and established their capital .. 
 
 ■ Lnople, t he city of < lonstanl ine, the lust 
 Christian emperor. I. out of this evil was, that 
 
 niiiii : learned G , being driven from their homes, came 
 
 ■ Italy, and illy to Florence, where the people were 
 
 .nl of Literature and art, and taughl them Greek. 
 
 ill those wonderful books 
 which had been hidden aw long, and to take into 
 
 and delight in them. Tb j began too bo leave nil' the 
 
 ■A Latin of the monks, and to r< ad the 
 bich the R unans had writteu in old d Lnd we may 
 
 iin igine bo n b new pi . which Beamed 
 
 to b • it the righl momenl bo belp the busy, 
 
 happy schol i Latin poet Virgil wa printed in I 170, 
 
 and the Gr .1 Corner in 1 I - 
 
 be Lien , or New Birth of Learnin . 
 
 Some of the of Eugland, hearing 
 
 une, travelled bo Italy I ; to learn Latin 
 
 an : . and bo bring i hem ■ Engl md.
 
 400 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 LECTURE XL. TIIE STATE OF RELIGION. 
 
 Worldliness of the Church. The monasteries. The Oxford reformers. 
 The Now Testament. Henry VIII. and Dean Colet. 
 
 1. Among all the changes of this period, the most important for 
 
 England was thai which soon took place in religion. We have 
 
 not heard much about that lately, because all seemed 
 St'ite of . . 
 
 religion S°^ n 8 "" as before. There were still some Lollards, 
 who, as we know, were ;| sort of Protestants, and 
 every now and then some were cruelly put to death, and some 
 were persuaded to deny their faith and recant; but they were 
 quite obscure, and not much noticed except to he put down. 
 'J lie, Roman Church, meanwhile, had been going on from lj.nl to 
 worse. 
 
 '_'. All observing and sensible men knew that the clergy, 
 instead of being more honest aid honourable than the rest of the 
 world, wen- much less so. A very excellent, clergy- 
 man, Colet, Dean of St. Paul's, of whom we shall 
 hear more by and bye, gave a large sum of money to found a 
 BchooL and, of course, wanted whal we now call "tiustees" to 
 care "f it. but he would nol appoint any clergyman, 
 bishop, dean, or canon t<> this office : nor would he appoint any 
 leman, but selected some married citizens of honest, report. 
 When he w is asked In- reason fur this, he said thai he found 
 "less corruption in these men/' This, al any rate, leads us to 
 hope that the middle class of traders and citizens, which was 
 bo u rig in wealth and importance, was an upright and 
 
 conscientious class, worthy of the name of Englishmen. 
 
 3. The Pope at this time was Alexander VL, whose family name 
 
 ■■ Borgia;" he was perhaps the mosl wicked 1'ope that ever 
 
 ted, whirl, is saying a good deal. The Italians 
 
 and everybody else were utterly horrified at his 
 
 An Italian historian, writing of him after his death 
 
 (by pois hi which he had intended for some one else), calls him 
 
 le extinct serpent, who by his immoderate ambition, pestifer
 
 sx.] THE STATE OF RELIGION. 401 
 
 ous perfidy, monstrous lust, and every sort of horrible cruelty 
 and unexampled avarice had compassed the destruction of so 
 many persons." The next Pope, Julius II., was a 
 great fighter, more like a soldier than a priest. 
 
 4. The higher clergy, the cardinals, bishops, and abbots, were 
 for the must part occupied in worldly affairs, in trying to gain 
 the favour of the lung, or in increasing their own splendour and 
 luxury. We shall soon come to a typical example of this sort 
 
 hurchman in Cardinal Wolsey, who was one of the most 
 linent persons in the next reign. 
 
 5. The lower clergy naturally followed their example in a 
 smaller way. and the power and influence they had over the 
 
 • they used greatly as a means to get money out of them. 
 It is almost incredible how many and how shameless were their 
 
 - of doing this, by working at once on the 
 religious fears and the sinful dispositions of their Confession 
 Hocks. it does not appear thai many of the people penance 
 had any great aspirations after goodness, or spiritual 
 and moral improvement; that had all been crushed with the 
 Lollards; nor did the priests Btrive to raise any Buch aspiration) 
 in them. All that mosl men cared for was to escape any dread- 
 ful punishment in hell or purgatory, and yet not have to be 
 inconveniently piou If-denying in this world. This paltry, 
 
 tding sorl of religion suited the ideas of the clergy 
 very well. They were supposed to hold the keys of the next 
 world ; if a man confessed to bis priest, and was absolved, then 
 he felt quite safe. When he had 'lone anything wrong, therefore, 
 he went and confessed it ; he would then be ordered some penance 
 
 ire he could be absolved ; hut if he did not Like the pen- 
 ance he 1 1 1 i _■ 1 1 1 pay money instead, and would be absolved 
 
 .' ery convenienl to a rich man. who escaped 
 
 his punishment, and very pleasant to the priest, who received 
 the money ; whether it ennobled or purified the soul of either 
 let my hone -t p rson judge 
 
 '>. Again, the Church forbade eating meat on fast days, but 
 rich people who did not like fish might get dispensation from 
 
 ng by paying for them. The Church forbade 
 relal s, even rather distant . to marry one Dls i ,nn8a - 
 
 Lion s. 
 
 another, but if they were rich they would ea 
 
 permission to many if they liked, as Richard III. expected 
 
 to be allow,., | to many his own nil 
 
 7. Then there wen the bishops' courts, which had been 
 founded long ago fox the improvement of morality, and in 
 
 D D
 
 402 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 which the Church could take notice of offences 
 e is ops w jj| c ]j were no t punished by the law of the land. 
 In old times these courts had done good ; for 
 instance, they often punished a man for cruelty to his slaves ; 
 hut now they too had become a ready means for getting money. 
 If a man in a moment of passion or heat spoke a disrespectful 
 word about his priest, he might be called before the court and 
 lined; if he would not pay the tine he might be excommuni- 
 cated, and we know what a dreadful punishment that was. 
 When an unfortunate man was excommunicated, no friend 
 might show him kindness, or even speak to him; no tradesman 
 might sell him food or clothes; and if he died he was refused 
 the last sacraments, and the burial of a Christian. Of course, 
 then, people would be very slow to offend the clergy, and woidd 
 rather pay almost anything to keep on good terms with them. 
 
 8. Another ingenious way of raising money was to send 
 people on pilgrimages, as, for example, to Becket's shrine, or to 
 a holy well or some miraculous image, to get for- 
 i gnmages. oiveness f or their sins. But every one knew that it 
 was of no use to go empty-handed. "The rule of the Church," 
 says Froude, "was, Nothing for nothing." At a chapel in Saxony 
 there was an image of a Virgin and child. If the worshipper 
 came to it with a good handsome offering the child bowed and 
 was gracious; if the present was unsatisfactory it turned away 
 its head and withheld its favours till the purse-strings were 
 untied again. 
 
 "There was a great rood or crucifix of the same kind at Boxley 
 in Kent, where the pilgrims went in thousands. This figure 
 u-eil to bow, too, when it was pleased, and a good sum of money 
 -ure to .secure its good will. When the Reformation came, 
 and the police looked into the matter, the images were found t> 
 be worked witli wires and pulleys." The crucifix from Boxley 
 was brought up to London, and exhibited in Cheapside, where it 
 was torn to pieces by the people. 
 
 '.). 15ut the greatest and most successful way of all was by the 
 
 doctrine of purgatory, which, as is well known, was a sort of 
 
 intermediate place between heaven and hell, where 
 
 urga ory. {j J0sr , w y 10 were no ^ bad enough to he punished for 
 
 ever in hell, and yet not good enough to go straight to heaven, 
 were purged and purified by terrible punishments lasting through 
 many thousands of years. The mediaeval writers gave most 
 horrifying descriptions of purgatory. Dante, the great Italian ] m »<t , 
 indeed drew a wide distinction between it, and hell, though even he
 
 xl.] THE STATE OF RELIGION". 403 
 
 said the souls there were chastised with blindness, fire, and smoke ; 
 but the English monks and old historians could hardly say enough 
 about the tortures they endured. One of the monks who dreamt 
 or believed that he saw a vision of purgatory in the days of 
 Richard I., spoke of it as being filled with malicious demons, 
 who tormented the miserable souls with every conceivable cruelty. 
 Some were suspended over tires of brimstone by iron chains; 
 rjery dragons sat upon some of them and gnawed them with iron 
 teeth; some were baked in ovens and fried in frying-pans; some 
 
 ■ immersed in caldrons of boiling pitch. All this and a very 
 great deal more was fully believed in by the people. 
 
 Then: w;is a very famous cave in Ireland ealled St. Patrick's 
 
 , in which it 1 that a view of purgatory might be 
 
 obtained, Froissart fell in with a knight who, with a friend of 
 
 bad entered this cave. " I asked him," be writes, "if there 
 
 e any foundation in truth for what was said of St. Patrick'? 
 
 Hole. He replied thai there was, and that he and another knight 
 
 had been then'. The] d it at sunset, remained there, the, 
 
 whole night, and i i it at sunrise the next morning." But 
 
 when K: requested farther to be told whether he saw all 
 
 the marvellous things which were to I in there, be beard that 
 
 two knights were fa ip the whole night ! But as they 
 
 looked apou this as a supernatural sleep, and "imagined that 
 
 they -«••'.' more in their dreams than they would have done if 
 
 had been in their beds," their faith was not at all shaken. 
 
 10. It, was supp i one but a great saint, went at 
 
 ■ to heaven after death; hut no baptized person, unless 
 immunicated, perished for ever ; so that almost every one went 
 
 to ; ■: ; and a priest could release him only by saying a 
 
 mi number of masses, which were paid for at so much a 
 dozen. The same monk who described his vision of purgatory 
 o minutely, expressly mentioned that there was a very great 
 inference among those who were tortured in this place; thosi 
 who had not been very wicked passed through it ea ily, an 
 > did those " who were assi ted, by the ma • of their frien 
 Wli" then could rein.:.' money t i relea e bis dearest friend or 
 relate. u from years of misery! Purgatory was afterwards not 
 unfitly called by Hide.]. Latimer " Purgatory Pickpw 
 
 11. Ln the granting of all th pardons or " indu "it 
 [i quite true I bat the ( Ihurch made i ome kind of disl bid ion 
 
 .1 and temporal (or, a i it were, bodily) pen 
 
 1)g . Bui I ly COUld nndei t.nid wli it thi 
 
 distinction meant According to the plain and common meaning
 
 404 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 of the words in which they were sold, they were a " broad, plain, 
 direct guarantee from the pains of purgatory, from hell itself, for 
 
 tens, hundreds, thousands of years; a sweeping pardon for all 
 sins committed ; a sweeping licence for sins to be committed."* 
 
 12. As for the monasteries which had been founded as homes 
 of a special holiness and purity, they too had many of them 
 
 changed sorely for the worse. So bad indeed had 
 
 IiXOLl ISl 61*168 
 
 some become, that even the Pope and the archbishop 
 every now and then felt obliged to take some notice. For 
 example, there was a famous abbey at St. Alban's, the fine old 
 church of which has lately been made a cathedral with a bishop, 
 but which, in the days of Henry VII., was still a very rich 
 monastery with monks and an abbot. 
 
 13. Both the abbot and the monks were so scandalously 
 wicked that even the Pope heard of it. This was not that Pope 
 Alexander VI., who was himself more wicked still, but his pre- 
 decessor Innocent VIII. Me heard that they had neglected all 
 the good old customs for which those places were in great 
 measure founded — religious meditation, almsgiving, and hos- 
 pitality; they had not only wasted the revenues and destroyed 
 lie- property, but had stolen the sacred vessels, the chalices and 
 jewels, from the church, and even the precious stones from the 
 very shrine of the martyr Alban. Besides their avarice and 
 robbery, they lived most shameful anil wicked lives; and if any 
 of the brethren tried to lie wise and virtuous, religious and just, 
 those the abbot hated and kept down. 
 
 14. The Pope commissioned Cardinal Morton to make in- 
 quiries about these charges, and to correct and reform as might 
 
 1489 seem good to him. On inquiry Morton found all 
 tlii- charges to be true; there seems to have been 
 hardly any attempt at denying them. It might have been 
 expected, therefore, that this shameless and wicked abbot would 
 be deposed, and the monks also severely punished. But though 
 Morton did certainly write a strong letter of reproof, still he 
 took no other measures whatever, only inviting the abbot to 
 consider his ways, and amend them if p issihle. 
 
 15. This, it is to be feared, is only a sample of what many of 
 the monasteries wen;, and especially tie; smaller ones; and we 
 can judge that if things were come to such a condition, and this 
 was all the Pope or the archbishop could or would do in the way 
 of reform, somebody else would be likely to take up the matter 
 before long. When things in this world become intolerably 
 
 * Miluiau.
 
 xl.] THE STATE OF RELIGION. 405 
 
 bad there is always the consolation of knowing that their end 
 must be near, and that in some way or other human nature will 
 shake itself free of them. 
 
 16. The religion of the Roman Church had now become so 
 aded that it could no longer be put up with, and it taught 
 BO many foolish and unreasonable things that only 
 the most ignorant people could believe in them. Religion and 
 
 Oil b tll6 116W 
 
 And now in this time of the Renaissance, what learning-. 
 with tin- invention of printing, the spread of books 
 and of reading, the study of the old Latin and Greek philo- 
 sophers, the ages of ignorance were passing away. In Italy, 
 where tin- Renaissance tirsl began, where people were quick and 
 I where they also knew more about the Popes and their 
 religion than anybody else, some of the new scholars, in casting 
 away tie- evils ami corruptions of Christianity, castaway Chris- 
 tianity itself. They were so delighted with the 
 writings "f the old poets ami sages of heathen times u a y ' 
 that they turned hill' heathens themselves. The painters, who 
 up till now had almost always painted sacred things, scenes out 
 of tii" Bible, or the lives df lint-, Madonnas in glory, or the 
 :i of tie-, unseen world, began to paint pictures of Bacchus, 
 and Venus, and Cupid They seem to have half believed in 
 Christianity and half in paganism, or not to bare believed really 
 in either, hut only amused themselves with both. And in this 
 way the Renai . being separated from religion, wrought a 
 
 ve: ■ tbange. 
 
 17. But in England if wa quite different. The scholars who 
 took up with the new learning were also most, religious ami holy 
 men, They were a greal deal too wise not to see 
 
 corrupt, how disguised, and how spoiled Chris- l ° 
 
 ity had become, hut they were also too wise not to see how 
 noble ami divine a thing true Chri tianity i-. So, in trying to 
 bring in what might seem to he new, the e men really went hack 
 title' oil. 'lh mred to throw aside the encumbrances 
 
 which had been growing up for L400 years, and to find out 
 whit Christianity wa, in tie- mind of Chrisl ami the 
 And this iihu they sough I : i everybody el 
 
 18. I'he principal of these ea i ly reformers were three men, two 
 whom, Colel and More, were Englishmen, while the third, 
 
 Erasmus, w i a I >utchm in j aula . I ir a I I hey all woi 
 
 bher ai I Ixford, they are ofl a < died the cford Eteformei 
 They all aw as plainly a* we do, or rather far more plainly, as 
 they were in the mi l I of Lt, the evil condition of religion. I b y
 
 4% LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 knew how covetous the clergy were, and how had the monasteries 
 were (Erasmus indeed had been a monk himself for a time). 
 
 They saw how foolish some things "were which used 
 
 v.. .J to be thought very sacred. Colet and Erasmus went 
 ±.iasmus. • _ .... 
 
 together on a pilgrimage to Canterbury, and this is 
 
 the last which we shall have to hear of the many Canterbury 
 
 pilgrimages. 
 
 19. Erasmus, who was very clever and witty, wrote the 
 account of their visit to the shrine ; that splendid shrine of 
 Becket, with its rich gildings and jewels, where, as it was 
 believed, so many miracles had been worked, and which had 
 been regarded with so much veneration by kings and warriors, 
 and by all the people of the land. 
 
 20. But now these two pilgrims, religious as they both were, 
 looked on in a very different spirit. Erasmus was amused ; Colet 
 was indignant. When they beheld the magnificent treasures 
 which the verger showed them with much pride, and " before 
 which Croesus himself might have seemed a beggar," Erasmus 
 siys he could not help feeling regret, "sacrilegious regret, for 
 which he begged pardon of the saint before he left the church, 
 that none of those gifts adorned his own homely mansion." 
 Colet remarked that he would have supposed St. Thomas would 
 far rather have seen some of these vast treasures given to the 
 poor. The verger began to grow angry, and had half a mind to 
 turn them out of the church. When they were shown the 
 stores of bones, and skulls, and dirty ra^s, which were guarded 
 and revered as priceless relics, Colet would not kiss any of them, 
 and indeed showed so much contempt and impatience that 
 Erasmus felt quite ashamed of his friend's had manners. But 
 when an old man brought them with great cerem my the upper 
 leather of a shoe to kiss, saying it was St. Thomas's shoe, Colet's 
 anger broke all bounds. "What!" he said, "do these asses 
 expect us to kiss the old shoes of all good men who have ever 
 lived?" and rode away in much disgust. 
 
 21. Thus, it is evident, times were changing. What Colet and 
 Erasmus wante 1 was a quiet reformation, and not a great 
 
 Lution such as really took place. They longed for every one 
 
 ad and understand the Bible, which had heen so long 
 
 _, „., forbidden, and took all possible pains to spread it. 
 
 Hitherto not only were the laity debarred from 
 
 reading the Bible at all, but the clergy themselves had not tried 
 
 to find out or to teach its real meaning, according to the natural 
 
 tense of the words, but had put into it all sorts of curious and
 
 xi..] THE STATE OF RELIGION. 407 
 
 fanciful meanings of their own. But now Colet, reading it first 
 in its own original Greek, instead of in the Latin translation, 
 jht and explained it simply and naturally in lectures and in 
 mons, especially the Gospels, and the Epistles of St. Paul. 
 
 22. Erasmus published a new and corrected edition of the 
 New Testament, which was printed in thousands and spread all 
 over Europe. He said he should wish every one, "even the 
 weakest woman, to read the gospel. I wish they should he 
 translated into all languages, so that they might he read and 
 understood not only by Sects and Irishmen, hut even by Turks 
 
 Saracens." At that time the Scotch and Irish were far 
 behind the English in learning and civilization, and we know 
 what was thoughl of Turks and Saracens. " I long," he goes on, 
 "that the husbandman should sing portions of them to himself 
 as he follows the plough, that the weaver should hum them to 
 the tune of his shuttle, that the traveller should beguile with 
 their stories the tedium of his journey." 
 
 23. Colet, who after living a long time at Oxford was made 
 I lean of St. Paul's, and who was a rich man, spent nearly all his 
 money in founding a school where hoys should be taught good 
 Latin and Greek, and above all true religion and the love of 
 Chrisl I' was he who chose his trustees among " the man led 
 citizens of good report;" and St. Paul's School, the one which 
 lie founded, is still one of our most famous public schools. 
 Other good and rich men followed his example, and founded 
 grammai schools in all parts of England, many of which are still 
 doing their good work. 
 
 24. These men did not wish for a separation; they rather 
 
 hoped that the whole Christian Church mighl remain united, by 
 all of it, up to the highesl clergy and the Popes, peacefully but 
 thoroughly reforming and purifying itself. Their hope was not 
 realized, beautiful as it was. The Popes and the high authorities 
 would not reform, no gentle means would avail. A great deal 
 of ronghne and violence, a greal many meaner and more worldly 
 
 motive, had to come in and take part. And after all the ( In - 
 
 tian world was torn asunder, and only a portion of it accepted 
 
 the Reformation. Still even the countries which continued 
 
 bed to the Papal Church altered in Borne way . and the reli- 
 
 . ..f educated i pie in those countries now is very different 
 
 from th< tition and ignorant credulity of the middle ages. 
 
 N..r are the clergy of thai Church any Longer worldly and 
 avaricious, like those we have been hearing of. 
 
 25. Happily for herself, England was one of the countries
 
 408 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 ■which heartily embraced the Protestant Reformation, but this 
 was hardly begun as yet. In the midst of the work 
 H VIII of the Oxford Reformers Henry VII. died, and was 
 succeeded by his son Henry VIII., who was now 
 about eighteen years old. In his reign the work of the Reform- 
 ation went on at a quicker pace, though not in such a lofty spirit. 
 
 26. The new Henry was a great contrast to his father, who had 
 latterly grown tyrannical, and still more miserly than of old. He 
 was gay, handsome, and clever, and at once became very popular. 
 He was well-educated, fond of books and of clever men, fond of 
 splendour and magnificence, fond of fame and glory, and fondest 
 of all, like his father and all his family, of his own will. Just 
 at first that did not seem to matter much, and a little wilfulness 
 is easily forgiven to a fine young prince. One of the first things 
 he diil was to punish with death his father's instruments of 
 tyranny, Empson and Dudley, which of course gave great satis- 
 faction to the people. He soon wished to distinguish himself in 
 war, and mixed himself up in foreign affairs for no particular 
 reason apparently, except in hopes of winning fame. He went 
 
 to Fiance and took a few towns, and won a battle 
 in which the French ran away so fast that it got 
 the name of the "Battle of the Spurs." 
 
 27. Now the, Oxford Reformers, 1" side their views about 
 religion, had a\<o very decided opinions on politics, and one of 
 
 the things they woe most clearly convinced of was 
 Colet's ,] |( . wickedness of going to war except on the strong- 
 
 Sermon on 
 
 war es ^ g roun( ls. They knew what dreadful misery it 
 
 caused the people, and they held that no king or 
 prince had a right to seek gloryatsuch a cost. Just before Henry 
 was going to start upon the French expedition, on a Good Friday, 
 Dean Cole! had to preach a sermon before him and the courtiers. 
 11<- was a brave man. and showed himself to be so now. For 
 whilst the king and all his followers were full of their ambitious 
 ami hop.-- of glory, Colel took the opportunity of preaching 
 a hold and outspoken sermon against war, exhorting them to fight 
 under the banner of I Jhrist, then' heavenly Bang, and saying that 
 '•they who either through hatred, ambition, ot covetousness do 
 fight with evil men, and so kill one another, fight not under the 
 banner of Christ, hut tie- devil." It is Krasmus himself, Colet's 
 dear friend, who tells the story. "And," he goes on, "he had 
 so many other smart passages to this purpose, that his Majesty 
 was somewhat afraid Lest this sermon would dishearten his sol- 
 diers. Hereupon all the birds of prey flocked about Colet like
 
 xl.] THE STATE OF RELIGION". 409 
 
 an owl, hoping the king would be incensed upon him." For, like 
 all reformers, Colet had plenty of enemies, men who loved dark- 
 ness rather than light. But now we shall see that at this time, at 
 . Henry was generous and candid, and knew a good man 
 when he saw him. " His Majesty commands Colet to come before 
 him at ( rreenwich. He goes into the garden of the monastery of 
 the Fran . which was near, and presently dismisseth his 
 
 attendants. When they two were alone the king bid < Jolet cover 
 his head, and speak His mind freely; and then his Highness began 
 : ' Dean, be not surprised with needless fear ; I did notsend 
 for you hither to disturb your most holy labours (which I resolve 
 to cherish as much as I can), but to unload my conscience of some 
 scruples, and to desire your advice concerning my duty.' The 
 conference lasted almost an hour and a half, and I must not relate 
 it alL hi the mean while Bricot (the Franciscan bishop) was in 
 irk wild, hoping thatColet had been in great danger, 
 whereas the king and he agreed in every particular very well. . . . 
 When they returned from the garden to the court, the king, being 
 about to dismiss Colet, called for a cup, and drank to him, 
 embracing him most kindly, and promising him all the favours 
 that could I"- expected from a mosl loving prince, dimissed him. 
 
 And now the ' rtiers standing round the king expected to hear 
 
 the issue of this long conference ; and the king, in the hearing 
 of th.-m all, said, ' Well, lei other men choose what doctors they 
 please, and make much of them; this man shall be my doctor.' 
 Whereupon Bricot, with the resl of the gaping wolves, departed, 
 and from that day forward never dared trouble Colet any 
 more." 
 
 28, 8till it is to be feared that the effect of the sermon was 
 rather like thai of St. Anthony to the fishes.* Much the same 
 mav be said of the wise words of Sir Thomas 
 
 r i , . f i i . r i Sir Thomas 
 
 More, the I of thi I I ti rd Bi Formers, and More 
 
 perhaps the beal beloved. It was he who wrote the 
 lives of Edward V. and Richard III., of which we have already 
 heard. He afterwards put his thoughts about government, and 
 : ,il life into one of the most charming little 
 book an Englishman ever wrote. All his idea on those topics 
 
 • " The lermon noi? w li d, 
 To hit butim m each wended ; 
 
 I ■ '" • ttai( 
 
 The eeli to rood lii h 
 
 Mm li di lighted wi re they, 
 Hut went on the "l'l iruy."
 
 410 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. Llect. 
 
 were so different from the facts he saw about him that he was 
 obliged to invent a country where they could be realized. In 
 that country Avar was detested ; pomp and luxury were despised; 
 gold and silver were used to make chains and fetters for criminals ; 
 pearls and diamonds were the toys and ornaments of children. 
 But the things which really make life happy were shared in 
 abundance by all. Every one had a pleasant house and a beauti- 
 ful garden ; every one knew how to read and write, and had lei- 
 sure to do so. No one was allowed to work too hard ; no one 
 was allowed to be idle ; no one quarrelled about his religion, nor 
 was any one punished on account of it. The rulers ruled for the 
 sake of the people, to make them wise, safe, and happy, and not 
 for any pride or profit of their own. 
 
 This land was a distant island far awav in the southern seas. 
 It was called Utopia, or " the Land of Nowhere." Perhaps if 
 More could revisit the earth and his old home now, he might 
 think we are still a long way olf from " Utopia."
 
 xi.i] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 411 
 
 LECTURE XLI.— THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 
 
 Cardinal Wolsey. His rise and greatness. Henry auil Eatherine. Fall 
 of Wolsey. Tin* Pope's supremacy renounced. The king declared 
 head of the Church. Deaths of More and Fisher. 
 
 1. While Henry was in France, winning a few easy victories 
 which did no good whatever to the country, the Scotch as usual 
 took the opportunity of quarrelling with England, and 
 
 greal battle oi Flodden Field was fought, in which 1513. 
 the English wiped away the disgrace of Bannockburn 5f l Vf of 
 by entirely defeating the Scotch, and of which we Field 
 
 I an animated accounl in ' Marmion.' In this 
 battle thf Scotch king and many of the highest nohles of the 
 land were killed. 
 
 ■_'. Some time after this England and France made peace, and 
 the two kings met. There was a fine young King of France now, 
 as well as of England, and their interview was of a very differenl 
 kind from thai of Edward IV. and the French king through the 
 gratings on the hridge. This royal meeting was so grand and 
 splendid that il died the " Field of the Cloth 
 
 (old." There were fine tournaments, and shows 
 of all sorts, plenty of compliments and embraces, and the two 
 
 young kings called each other brothers. But no great g I 
 
 of m at all, for in another year or two the two Bworn 
 brol bei - wenl to • in. 
 
 •">. We lipi-t now hear a little ahout the man who arranged 
 this, and who guided and advised the king in all matters, great 
 and small. This was ihe man before referred to as 
 
 theverytyj f a clever, proud, and worldly church- ° 8ey- 
 
 man, Cardinal Wol ey. We have often observed already how 
 a mm even of the very lowest class, it' he had talents and 
 capabilities, might rise to the highest rank in the < Ihurch, so as 
 to be equal and even superior to kings and emperors. Wblsey 
 was one who ro e thus, The man who wrote hi life, of which 
 wu .shall read a few extracts, was a gentleman in iii I i vice;
 
 412 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 for in those days great lords and bishops had many gentle 
 men in their households who were proud to be culled their 
 servants. Cavendish tells us that his master was "an honest 
 poor man's sonne of Ipswich; " he is apparently too delicate to 
 say that, in fact, he was the son of a butcher. 
 
 4. The child proving to be richly gifted, he received an 
 excellent education, and went very young to Oxford, where he 
 
 H - r'se ^'^ s0 we ^ ^'k ne ^ °k n ^ s ^ e o ree a * fifteen years 
 old, and was called all through the university the 
 Boy Bachelor. After that by his talents and industry he got on 
 in the world very fast, and by and bye came to be chaplain to 
 Henry VII., and was much noticed by some of the counsellors. 
 But the way he first gained the king's favour was rather curious. 
 Henry had to send a message to the Emperor Maximilian, who 
 was at that time in Flanders; and his counsellors recommended 
 as messenger this chaplain Wolsey, whom it does not seem the 
 king had ever noticed before. The king conversed with him, 
 " perceived his wit to be very line," and gave him his in- 
 structions. We can now get from London to Brussels in 
 ten hours by the help of trains and steamboats ; but in those 
 days it was quite a long and difficult journey. Most of it had 
 to be done on horseback, with relays of postdiorses; and there 
 was generally a good deal of waiting here, and waiting there, 
 waiting for horses, waiting for the boat, and so on. But Wolsey 
 made such haste and such excellent arrangements that he waited 
 nowhere. He travelled night and day, caught the Calais boat at 
 the right moment, saw the emperor, arranged the business, and 
 came back again. All this he did so quickly that, supposing he 
 left the king at Rii hmond on Monday at twelve o'clock, he came 
 bark again by Thursday night, and saw the king on Friday 
 morning just as he came out of bis bed-room. 
 
 5. The king, never guessing how busy he had been, " checked " 
 or rebuked him "for that, he was not on his journey;" and 
 when he found that he had already been and come back again, 
 " he rejoiced inwardly not a hit le, and gave him princely thanks." 
 This wa^ the beginning of Wolsey's high favour in the king's 
 
 m. He had shown such zeal and industry, " such excellent 
 wit." and had managed the whole affair so well, that he was 
 straightway made Dean of Lincoln, and from that time continu- 
 ally rose higher and higher. When Henry VIII. became king 
 he at once made Wolsey one of his chief counsellors. Henry 
 loved his own will and Ins own way, but at the same time, being 
 still young, he loved pleasure better than business. Wolsey soon
 
 xli.] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 413 
 
 perceived that the Lest manner in which lie could hope to rise as 
 high as he intended would he by helping the king to indulge those 
 tastes. All he aimed at was " to advance the king's only will and 
 pleasure, having no respect unto the cause." 
 
 6. Nothing could have answered better, as far as those two 
 were concerned. Wolsey was quite willing to work ; no trouble 
 was too great for him; he did all the king wanted, took all the 
 labour on himself, and bo let the king have leisure to amuse him- 
 self, and yet get everything done as he wished. Thus Wolsey 
 enormous power into his own hands; he was at the head of 
 all the affairs of the country ; he had charge of the royal treasury, 
 and, being Lord < lhancellor, he was the highest judge in the king- 
 dom. He was also supreme in the Chinch, and had all the 
 bishops, abbots, and clergy under his control. With all this he 
 still only worked as the king's servant, and t<> carry 
 out his will. He received in return enormous re- He becomes 
 wards, pensions, bishoprics, and all sorts of wealth. n^ho' 
 He nol only Lord Chancellor, but Archbishop and car- ' 
 
 York, and a cardinal He hoped to be Pope by dinal. 
 and bye; nothing eemed too great for him to aim at. 
 
 7. He now lived in wonderful style. In bis household, attend- 
 on him, and holding various offices, were a good number of 
 had ind gentlemen to begin with; under them 
 innumerable servants of all degrees, clerks of the Uness 
 
 en of the scullery, yeomen of his 
 
 chariot and hi* stirrup, cupbearei ,cai i 10ms. His head 
 
 il daily in velvet '" '" atin, with ;i chain of gold." 
 
 II had doctors, and chaplain , and chori ters innumerable, filling 
 
 or three large pages of Cavendish's book. When he went 
 
 in the morning his cardinal's hat was borne before him " by 
 
 a lord or some gentleman of worship] olemnly;" also two 
 
 ■ 11 ••■ ii cried the gentlemen usher,, going before 
 
 him bat I, and said, 'On before, my lords and masters, on 
 
 before, and make way for my Lord Cardinal.' Thus went he 
 
 down through the ball, with a sergeant of inns before him bearing 
 
 ilver, and i wo gentlemen carrying two great pillars 
 
 ol U i ; and when he came to the hall door, then his mule stood 
 
 all trapped in crimson velvet, with a saddle of the same, and dt. 
 
 Btirru] I lien was tl attending upon him when he was 
 
 mount d his two cross bear rs, and his pillar bearew, in likei 
 upon great lea ■ trapped all in fine carlet. Then marched 
 he forward with a tram of noblemen and gentlemen, having Ins 
 footmen, tour in numb at him, bearing each of them a gilt
 
 414 LECTURES ON ENGLISH IIISTORY. [lect. 
 
 pole-axe in their hands, and thus passed he forth until he came 
 to Westminster Hall door." With all this finery and display, it 
 is satisfactory to know that " there he spared neither high n< ir low, 
 but judged every estate according to his merits and deserts." 
 Nor did he forget his old home, nor his old university ; nor the 
 good education which had helped him to rise so high. With a 
 true generosity, he wished to give other men the same oppor- 
 tunities, and he founded a good school at Ipswich, and a splendid 
 college at Oxford, which was at first called Cardinal College ; 
 but the name was afterwards changed to Christ Church, and that 
 grand building with its magnificent staircase speaks to us still of 
 Wolsey's lordly spirit. 
 
 8. His houses were splendid palaces, fit for a king's abode. 
 One of them was Hampton Court, the other was at Whitehall. 
 They were filled with magnificent furniture, costly hangings, 
 beds of silk (Cavendish says there were 280 beds at Hampton 
 Court), rich arias and tapestry work, gold and silver plate in 
 profusion. We cannot help wondering whether, now that people 
 had begun to read the New Testament, they ever contrasted all 
 lids with Peter the fisherman, or Paul the tent-maker, or the 
 Master of them all, carrying His cross. 
 
 9. But it was too grand to last. In the Eoman Catholic 
 Church, in the midst of their most splendid ceremonies, which 
 are more gorgeous than any one can conceive who has not seen 
 them, sometimes on special occasions thy have a very significant 
 custom ; it is as if a thought of mortality, a cold wind of warning, 
 blows through their souls. When a Pope is being crowned, at 
 that proudest hour of his life, or at some other grand solemnity, 
 when the beautiful cathedral is hung with rich silk, golden lamps 
 glittering everywhere, the air tilled with music and incense, the 
 bishops and archbishops in sumptuous apparel, you may see 
 hanging in the midst of the church an iron cresset with a 
 quantity of flax twisted round it. At one point in the service 
 this is set alight, while the choristers sing " Sic transit gloria 
 mundi." * It blazes up, oh, so brightly, for a moment, and then 
 it is gone. Had "Wolsey ever seen this ceremony? or ever 
 thought of it 1 ? "Sic transit gloria mundi." The time was 
 drawing near when Ids glory would pass away, and the glory of 
 his Church too. 
 
 10. H was during Henry VIII. 's reign that the Eeformati ion 
 in Germany began under Martin Luther. Though we cannot 
 
 * So passes away the glory of the world.
 
 xi.i.] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 413 
 
 give our attention to that, we must suppose that 
 Luther's writings, his bold words and deeds, had a Re ™l™ 1 ' 
 great effect on men's minds in England. The king Reformation. 
 took much interest in these matters, and though he 
 liked Colet, he was still decidedly in favour of the Pope, and 
 ust Luther. He even wrote a hook on the subject, which 
 pe so much that he gave him the title of ] >efensor 
 Fi l--i, Defender of the Faith; which oui kings and queens have 
 borne ever since, though, as most of thum have been Protestants, 
 the Pope would prohahly consider that they have no great right 
 to it. 
 
 11. But after a time Henry began to alter his views about the 
 Pope, and it was then thai meaner and lower motives came into 
 . and helped to bring the Keformation into England. Henry 
 had been married, while still a boy, to Katherine of 
 
 nng widow of his brother Arthur. It j^^ine. 
 it likely that he ever loved her much, she being 
 id upon him in his childhood, and being some years older than 
 himself. Bui she wras a good woman ; gentle, patient, pun;, and 
 inly ; ii" <>!.•• could ever breathe a word against her. Henry 
 and she, had many children, but only one, a daughter, lived; the 
 ,11 died lleinv, who very much wished For a son, 
 
 ■ n to thin';, oi - lid he thought, that his losing all his children 
 i in uk ^i l ; again I the marriage, she being bia 
 
 brother's widow. 
 
 \\'. first favoured this idea from motives of policy. He 
 
 wished the king to he at peace with France instead <<( with 
 Spain, and he thought if Henry separated from his Spanish 
 wife be might marry a French one, which would help on his 
 project H" little foresaw how matters would turn out. 
 
 1 u. It was no very easy thing to get rid of Queen Katherine. 
 Henry had now he. mi kin/ more than twenty years, and she had 
 been his acknowledged and blameless wife all that 
 time. Everybody knew thai tie' former Pope had dilemma. 
 given adispen ition to permit the marriage. Henry 
 could not he divorced unles - the present Pope allowed it. Th • 
 
 Pope did not know whit to do. He did not want to offend 
 ry, who had written ;, book in h OUr, and was so 
 
 and great a king. But neither did he want to offend Catherine's 
 pecially her nephe #, ' Ih irli v.. v. ho l.. i- being 
 King of Spain, was Emperor of Germany, and the. most, power- 
 fa] sovereign in the world, and who had al o taken his pan 
 Whether he ever thought at all of what would
 
 4\G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 be the right and just thing, instead of the prudent thing, we do 
 not hear. 
 
 13. He would say nothing definite, and Henry grew very 
 impatient. For besides his religious and conscientious scruples, 
 such as they were, he had just now fallen in love with another 
 lady, whom he was determined to marry, and this made him 
 more than ever Lent on being freed from Katherine. J Jut when 
 Wolsey found that instead of marrying the French princess, the 
 
 king intended to marry Anne Boleyn, who, it 
 -o'^ ne appears, was a charming and attractive girl, though 
 
 nut a very good or high-minded one, he changed his 
 mind, and ceased to wish for the divorce which he had advocated 
 before, and Anne Boleyn thereupon became his mortal enemy. 
 He had hoped in the onset to please his own king and the King 
 of France ; but, as Fuller says, " instead of gaining the love of 
 two kings, he got the implacable anger of two queens." 
 
 14. Wolsey accordingly fell into deep disgrace, and was 
 stripped of all his great pomp and power. The pretext for 
 
 doing this was a very mean one, namely, that he 
 
 1529.^ ] Vd[ \ acted as the Pope's legate without the special 
 
 diserace permission of the king. This, it is quite true, was 
 
 an offence against the law of the land; as one of the 
 
 many ways in which the kings of England had tried to maintain 
 
 their own power, and keep down that of the Pope, had been by 
 
 the law passed in the days of Richard II., called the Statute of 
 
 Praemunire, which forbade any one to introduce bulls or to 
 
 exercise authority for the Pope or any foreigner in England. 
 
 15. But as Wolsey had all along been acting in concert with 
 the king, and nothing had ever been said about this statute, it 
 was very unworthy to turn round and use it against him row that 
 he was out of favour. However, so it was, and Wolsey submitted 
 without any resistance. All his riches, all the gold and silver 
 plate which hail figured so gloriously on his sideboards, all the 
 cloth of gold, cloth of silver, velvet, satin, damask, tufted taffeta, 
 which delighted the soul of his servant Cavendish, were given up 
 to the king. So were his palaces at Whitehall and at Hampton 
 Court. Then he had to break up his great household, and a sad 
 parting took place between him and his servants. He had 
 always been a kind and generous master ; and when he had to say 
 farewell, Cavendish tells us that, " beholding this goodly number 
 of his servants, he could not speak unto them, until the tears 
 ran down his cheeks, which few tears, perceived by his 
 Servants, caused the fountains of water to gush out of their
 
 xli.] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 417 
 
 faithful eyes in such sort as it would, cause a cruel heart to 
 lament." 
 
 16. Soon after this he was sent into what he doubtless looked 
 upon as banishment, namely, to his archbishopric of York. "His 
 enemies," says Fuller, "got the king to command him away to 
 York, Bending him thither whithei his conscience long since 
 Bhould have sent bim, namely, to visit his diocese, so large in 
 ' \t>nt, and reside therein." Sir Thomas More was made Lord 
 Chancellor in his Btead 
 
 17. While in his comparative retirement in the north Wblsey 
 seems to have acted very worthily, and really to have given his 
 
 ation to the affairs of his diocese. He was not left there 
 long, however ; he was charged with high treason, and summoned 
 
 I i London. Bui he never saw London again. His proud heart 
 
 \\'li"ii hegol as far as Leicester Abbey he was so ill 
 that he could hardly Bit upon his mule. The abbot and all the 
 ■i v.- 1 him with great reverence, but he said, "Father 
 ■ me hither to leave my bones among 
 And as he lay dying, and perhaps Looked back 
 over his Btrange life, beginning at the time when he was a little 
 schoolboy and a poor man's son, through all his ambition and 
 his industry, and power and splendour, he said, " If I had served 
 <1'm1 as diligently as 1 havi d the king, He would not have, 
 
 .'■r in my grey hairs." 
 
 18. Meanwhile, the affair of the king's divorce from Qu 
 
 fing wearily on. She behaved with aqueenly 
 and a womanly jpirit ; nothing would induce her to give in, or 
 vn herself anything but Henry's lawful wife. The Pope 
 delayed, hung hack, played fa i and looses before. He wished 
 with all his heart somebody would decide the matter without 
 bo him at all. He declared that he was ool Learn- 
 ed in the law, and ii I, iii a kind of humorOUS de pur, that 
 
 though there was a Baying that the Pope has all laws Locked 
 
 within his own brea t, yet, for Ins (part, God had nevi 
 
 him the key to open that lock. Such being the case, we may 
 
 ine the pec) which would be fell for him \u 
 
 ambassador of Henry's, al one time, writing to hi ma ei to 
 tell b mething the Pope had said, added thai on the very 
 
 of the convei satioo he had recei i ed the ble i 'I 
 ment, which, pei aid', it likely that he was speaking the 
 
 I I ut li. 
 
 19. At. last, after delaying and doubting for Beven years, 
 
 a e
 
 413 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 1533 Henry cut the knot. He private] y married Anne 
 The king Boleyn, having induced the Archbishop of Canter- 
 marries bury and some other English bishops to declare the 
 Anne former marriage void, without leaving it in the 
 
 Boleyn. p ope > s j^nds any longer. 
 
 20. But they went much farther than that, for now the king 
 and his parliament, lords, bishops, and commons, declared 
 
 that the Pope should have no more authority at all 
 He is in England, and that the King of England was 
 d ^ Cl ^ re f supreme head both of Church and State. Thus 
 the Church. the l° n o> l° n g quarrel, which had been going on at 
 intervals ever since the days of William the Con- 
 queror, was settled at last, and England and her king were free 
 from the rule of the foreigner, which had pressed so hard on 
 their spirits. 
 
 21. This was still, at first, only apolitical Reformation; it 
 was only a question of power and authority, not of religion or 
 faith. Henry still meant to be " Defender of the Faith," and 
 to maintain all the doctrines of the Church, of which he would 
 be a sort of island Pope. And as by this time a great many 
 people held other doctrines, such as Colet and Erasmus had 
 taught, and such as Luther was teaching, he and his parliament 
 were very severe in punishing heretics. Wolsey, in his day of 
 power, had been averse to cruelty, and liked better to frighten 
 the heretics, by making them carry faggots, which were burnt, 
 than to burn the men themselves. -But after his disgrace 
 several famous men were put to death; and it is very sad to 
 have to own that one of the persecutors was Sir Thomas More, 
 who had begun by being almost a Protestant himself, and who 
 had been so liberal and gentle in former days. But he had 
 
 . been shocked by Luther's boldness and defiant 
 spirit, and so, indeed, had Erasmus also. They 
 had both wished for a gradual reform ; and Sir Thomas More 
 now turned against those whom one would have thought he 
 would have sympathized witli and protected, and, like Saul, he 
 consented unto their death. But when his own turn came he 
 too was ready to give up his life for the sake of his conscience. 
 
 22. We are now coming to a time when half our history is 
 filled up with the deaths of those who suffered for their faith. 
 It was a very dill'erent thing then from what it is now to 
 believe, or to 6ay we believe, a thing. In our days, as long 
 as a man does no harm to other people, he may believe just 
 what he likes, and perhaps a great many are not quite sure what
 
 xi.i.] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 419 
 
 they do believe ; but in those days men cared very much for 
 their faith. They knew exactly what they believed, they were 
 
 it was true, and they loved it passionately ; and they knew 
 also what they disbelieved, they were sure it was a lie, and they 
 
 I it as passionately. They were ready to lay down their 
 lives sooner than their faith. 
 
 23. After the invention of printing and the translation of 
 the Bible (of which we are about to hear) everybody began ^ to 
 study theology. Hitherto people had had to be content with 
 hearing only what the priests chose to tell them, and we have 
 
 . how the Church had set itself against laymen reading the 
 Scriptures for themselves. But it was too late for that now; 
 and when the Bible was spread abroad, and every one had it in 
 
 own hands, he could not but begin to think for himself, and 
 
 impare what he read with what he heard. In other words, 
 
 he could uot help exercising " private judgment." And many 
 
 men, having one., made up their minds, were ready and willing 
 
 to give their bodies to be burned. 
 
 24. We who are Protestants are justly proud of our Pro- 
 mt martyrs, and of their noble lives and deaths; but it 
 Id not be righl to forget that there were g 1 and true men 
 
 on the other Bide too, who honestly thought they were right, and 
 who also died nobly. ( me such was Sir Thomas More; 
 anothei I her, Bishop of Rochester. They still D 15 t ^' f 
 held thai i he Pope was the head of the < Ihurch, and ^ re ^° d 
 both were beheaded for denying the king's su- Fisher. 
 prem ic , Fi her, who was the old friend of Erasmus 
 and ftfore, was a :. r "'at contra fc to those splendid and pompous 
 prelates, who had wandered o Ear from primitive Christianity. 
 He ■ .and unworldly, "honoured for his learning, 
 
 and admired for his holy conversation." While he was slid in 
 the king's favour, it ha 1 been proposed to promote him from his 
 bishopric of Rochester to a much richer one, either I'.ly or 
 Lincoln, but he refn ed the offer. Fuller tell a he wa used to 
 say "he would not change his little old wife to whom he had 
 i long wedded for a wealthier." It- was said thai when 
 he fell iut" ane soldiers, " coming to seize on his aup- 
 
 l l wealth, found (what was quickly told) nothing al all 
 
 belonging to him save' a greal barred chest. These, from the 
 facing of iron, concluded the lining thereof : ilver al Lea I ; and 
 having broken it open, found therein nothing but sackcloth and 
 a whip, which put them all to penance, and soundly lashed 
 their covetous expectation." 
 
 I. I. 2
 
 420 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 25. Being charged with high treason for denying the king's 
 supremacy, the aged bishop was committed to the Tower, and 
 after a time beheaded. The story of his death is very beauti- 
 fully told by Fuller, who was a hearty, even a vehement, Pro- 
 testant, but yet could see what was good in those from whom he 
 differed. When the lieutenant of the Tower came to awaken 
 his prisoner, and to announce to him that he was to suffer death 
 that morning, he received the news very quietly, and begged he 
 might still have an hour or two's rest, as he bad slept but ill that 
 night. " Not," he said, " for any fear of death, but by reason of 
 my great infirmity and weakness." Then " falling again to rest, 
 he slept soundly two hours and more, and after he was awaked, 
 called to his man to help him up; but first commanded hitn to 
 take away his shirt of hair, which customably he wore, and to 
 convey it privily out of the house, and instead thereof to lay 
 him a clean white shirt, and all the best apparel he bad, as 
 cleanly brushed as might be. And as he was arraying him- 
 self, his man, seeing in him more curiosity and care for the line 
 and cleanly wearing of his apparel that day than was wont, de- 
 manded of him what this sudden change meant, saying that his 
 Lordship knew well enough that he must put off all again within 
 two hours, and lose it. 'What of that?' said he. ' Dost not 
 thou mark that this is our marriage day, and that it behoveth 
 ns therefore to use more cleanliness for solemnity thereof?' . . . 
 And with that, taking a little book in his hand, which was a 
 N e w Testament, lying by him, he made a cross on his forehead, 
 and went out of his prison door with the lieutenant, being so 
 weak as that he was scant able to go down the stairs ; wherefore, 
 at the stair's foot he was taken up in a chair between two of the 
 lieutenant's men, and carried to the Tower gate. . . . And as 
 they were coming to the uttermost precincts of the liberties of 
 tin- Tower, they rested there with him a spice, till such time as 
 one was sent before to know in what n-adim'ss the sheriffs were 
 to receive him ; during which space he rose out of his chair, and 
 si aiding on his feet, leaned his shoulder to the wall, and lifting 
 his eyes toward heaven, he opened the little book in his hand 
 and said, ' O Lord, this is the last time that ever I shall open 
 this book; let some comfortable place now chance unto me, 
 whereby I, Thy poor servant, may glorify Thee in this my last 
 hour.' And with that, looking into the book, the first thing 
 that came to his sight were these words (in Latin), ' This is life 
 eternal, that they might know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus 
 Christ, whom Thou hast sent. I have glorified Thee on the
 
 xi.r .] THE HEAD OF THE CHURCH. 421 
 
 earth, I have finished the work which Thou gavest me to do.' 
 
 And with that he shut the book together, and said, 'Here is 
 
 even learning enough for me to my life's end.' . . . When he 
 
 waa come to the foot of the scaffold, they that carried him 
 
 offered to help him up the stairs, but said he, ' Nay, masters, 
 
 seeing I am come bo far, let me alone, and ye shall see me shift 
 
 for myself well enough;' and he went up the stairs, without 
 
 any help, so lively that it was a marvel to them that before knew 
 
 his debility and weakness. But as he was mounting the stairs 
 
 tat sun sinned very bright in his face, whereupon he 
 
 said to himself these words, lifting up his hands, 'Ye shall 
 
 unto 1 1 i 1 11 and be lightened, and your faces shall not he 
 
 med.' " 
 
 ■_'o. After saying to the assembled people that he was come to 
 
 die tor the faith of Christ's Holy Catholic Church, and praying 
 
 for his king and his country, "he kneeled down and said certain 
 
 . . . Then came the executioner, and bound a hand- 
 
 hief about his eyes ; and so the bishop, lifting his hands and 
 • heaven, said a few prayers, which were nut- Long, but 
 fervent and devout ; which being ended, he laid his head down 
 over the mid-t of a little block, where the executioner, 1 
 
 ready with a sharp and heavy axe, cut asunder his slender neck 
 
 ne blow." 
 
 ; there was no Longer any hope of a peaceful Reforma- 
 tion. Many aid many another sainted head would fall, on 
 either side, before Christians could learn how in this Imperfect 
 world they might dwell together in unity, each holding his own 
 faith, and yet each loving hifl brother who held another.
 
 422 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 LECTURE XLII.— TIIE REFORMERS. 
 
 Cranmer and Cromwell. The English Bible. Tyndale. The New Testa- 
 ment burnt at St. Paul's. The Bible published by authority. Dis- 
 solution of the monasteries. Death of Henry VIII. 
 
 1. After the fall of "Wolsey, the chief advisers and supporters 
 
 of the king were two very remarkable men. One of these was 
 
 Cranmer, who had been made Archbishop of Can- 
 
 Cranmer. ter ]3 U ,y on account of the help he had given and 
 was ready to give to the king about his divorce. Long after- 
 wards he was burned to death for his Protestant religion ; but 
 at this time, though he upheld the king's supremacy, he believed 
 the Roman Catholic doctrines, and consented to the burning of 
 heretics. It is not to be supposed that in those days people 
 became thorough Protestants all at once ; it was only by degrees 
 they learnt to see that among the things they had been brought 
 up to believe "some were untrue, some uncertain, some vain 
 and superstitious," and we have no right to blame them for this. 
 Cranmer was not a perfect man by any means ; he was more 
 worldly and less brave than most of the reformers ; but he did 
 lasting good to the Church and nation ; it was he who sent forth 
 into the whole land our English Bible, the book which lies 
 nearer to the heart of Englishmen than any other, and our 
 English Prayer-book, which is also very dear to many of us. 
 
 2. The other counsellor of the king was Thomas Cromwell, a 
 
 man who had been in Wolsey's employ, and who came into 
 
 favour as the rrreat cardinal declined. He was most 
 
 Cromwell, faithful to bis master in his fall, and did all he 
 could to shield him from disgrace and injury, so that every one 
 respected and admired bis honesty and fidelity. But he was a 
 very bad adviser for the king. Henry, as we know, loved his 
 own will. Wolsey had said of him, "He is a prince of royal 
 courage, and hath a princely heart, and rather than he will want 
 or miss any part of his will or pleasure he will endanger the 
 loss of the one half of his realm." This was rather a com- 

 
 xui.] THE REFORMERS. 423 
 
 plimentary style of speaking, and the " royal courage and 
 princely heart" in common people would have perhaps been 
 called Btubbornness and self-will. "I assure you," Wolsey Avent 
 on, "1 have often kneeled before him for the space sometimes 
 of three hours, to persuade him from his will and appetite, but 
 I couM never dissuade him therefrom. Therefore, Mr. King- 
 stone, I warn you, if it chance you hereafter to be of his privy 
 < nncil . . . he well assured and advised what ye put in his 
 head, for ye sh ill never put' it out again." 
 
 :;. Cromwell was exactly the minister to please a king like 
 this, for all his aim and object was to make the king and the 
 king's will supreme in everything. He wanted the country to 
 be governed, not, as of old, by a constitutional king, who had 
 
 insull his parliament, ami conform himself to the laws of 
 the land, hnt by an absolute king, who should he above and 
 before all, even above the law. This was all the more dangerous 
 
 . because I !• nry had become the bead of the Church as well 
 
 i therefore be had twice as much authority as 
 
 any of hi- predi . and it would no longer be in the power 
 
 the archbishops and bishops to oppose his will. Cromwell 
 
 introduced a law which one wonders could ever have been 
 
 adopted in bo ju t and equitable a country as England— that 
 
 i of high treason should noi be allowed to be 
 
 beard in their own defence. It is very remarkable that when 
 
 a time Cromwell's will clashed with the king's, and he fell 
 
 into disfavour, he was the fir I to suffer under that law. 
 
 4. All these plans and views of Cromwell suited Henry and 
 
 his very well ; but they did not suit the English 
 
 nation, and when the time cam'-, 100 years later, that the king's 
 
 will and the nation's will went- different ways, there was a great 
 h, and the old English freedom wa n tored. Bui this did 
 not happen yet; the gradual change which had begun under 
 Edward I V. Btill went, on, and the country became more and 
 more dependent on the persona] will of the king. The Tudora, 
 with one exception, besides being ob tinate, were wise ; the) could 
 
 what the nation would put up with, and what it would not, 
 
 and they never came into collision with their people, becau e 
 they had bo true a perception of what, their will really was. 
 
 ... in thi- great matter of the Church, though there wi 
 many who differed from the Protestant reformei , il that 
 
 main body of the people moTe or le i i ided with them, and 
 were glad to throw off the tyranny of Rome. When Henry and 
 Uranmer b they boob did, to cast away the 1!"
 
 4-24 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot 
 
 doctrines also, and to encourage the reading of the Bible, the 
 more intelligent classes still approved. Above all, the clever and 
 serious-minded young men at the universities, who had read the 
 Greek Testament of Erasmus, and his other writings, were sure 
 to be much influenced by them. Some of these came to be very 
 famous afterwards, and have left a glorious name behind them, 
 as the fathers of the English Church. One of the 
 most notable was Tyndale, who, having read and 
 heartily sympathized with what Erasmus wished about the Bible, 
 determined to do his share towards bringing it to pass, by once 
 move translating the Bible into English. The old translations, 
 even Wycliffe's, had now become old-fashioned; for though but 
 150 years had passed since his time, the language had altered so 
 much that probably it could not be easily understood. But 
 language altered much faster then than it does now, because the 
 printing of books, which are read by many people all over a 
 country, fixes the meaning of words and their spelling to a great 
 extent,; so that though our English Bible, which is more than 
 300 years old, is somewhat antique, we can all understand it, 
 and delight in its beauty and majesty. A great part of the Bible, 
 as we now have it, is in the very English of Tyndale, and of his 
 friend Miles Coverdale, who helped him. 
 
 6. Wc ought, therefore, to know a little about the life and 
 work of a man to whom all who love their English Bibles owe 
 so much. His biography, as Avell as that of many others of the 
 o formers, maybe lead in Foxe's ' Book of Martyrs, which has 
 always been a very favourite hook, and is indeed most interest- 
 ing, quaint, and vivid, though he was not impartial enough to 
 be thoroughly relied on. Tyndale was a very well-educated 
 young man, having studied both at Oxford and Cambridge, 
 when he went to be tutor in a gentleman's family in Gloucester- 
 shire. This gentleman, Sir .John Welch, being a rich and 
 hospitable man, was in the habit of entertaining at dinner all the 
 iilie.l clergy, the abbots, deans, and archdeacons of the neigh- 
 bourhood, and the young tutor would sit at table among them. 
 Even quite in the country people were already thinking a great deal 
 about the new doctrines winch were coming in, and the talk was 
 very often about Erasmus and Luther, and their works. Tyndale, 
 being learned and clever, would join in the conversation, and 
 sometimes put all the dignitaries to silence by his arguments 
 and knowledge of the Scriptures. He happened once to be in 
 company of a divine, "recounted," says Foxe, "for a learned 
 man, and in communing and disputing with him he drave him
 
 si.li.] TI1E REFORMERS, 425 
 
 to that is*ue that the said great doctor burst out into these 
 blasphemous words, ' We were better to be without God's laws 
 than the Pope.' Master Tyndale, hearing tin's, full of godly zeal, 
 and not Inuring that blasphemous saying, replied again, and 
 said, ' I defy the Pope and all his laws ;' and farther added that 
 if God spared him life, ere many years he would cause a boy 
 that driveth the plough to know more of the Scripture than he 
 did." 
 
 7. Thus he soon grew into great disfavour with the clergy 
 round, who wished things to stay as they were; and not only 
 with these higher ones, but also with the lower and more igno- 
 rant, who were perhaps jealous of his learning. These latter 
 seem t<i have been in almost as had a condition as they were in 
 the days of King Alfred. The Church prayers were still all said 
 in Latin, and of course the congregations could not understand 
 them, tint, i - the priests themselves were not much better. 
 
 Tyndale say- he feels sure tie-re were 20,000 priests and curates 
 in England who could not give the right English of the Lord's 
 Prayer, the Patera t bey called it. 
 
 .S. The clergy, high and low, so. in made the place loo hot for 
 
 him, and be went to London, full of zeal to keep that promise 
 about the Scriptures. He found very little encourage- 
 ment there; he remained "the space almost of a He trans- 
 
 , beholding and marking with himself the course Bible, 
 of the world, and especially the demeanour of the 
 preachers, how they i„,;i ted themselves and set up their 
 authority and kingdom ; beholding also the pomp of the prelates" 
 
 (this was jut in tie- hey-day of Wblsey's glory), "with other 
 
 thin-- more which greatly misliked him." He received no pro- 
 tection oi ince, and finally decided that London was no place 
 for him or his work. Accordingly, he went abroad and settled 
 in Antwerp, where he was encouraged by some English mer- 
 chants, ami where he, helped by friends who were like minded 
 with himself, finished his translation. It- was immediately 
 printed; and now the qui tion arose how to gel tie- copi< - 
 ilated and read in England. This was some time before 
 Henry had broken with tie- Pope, and it. was still against the 
 law for laymen t<. read the Bible. One of tin' heads of the 
 clergy, who was afterwards Archbishop of York, tells tin in 
 plain word-«. Ih hil found out, aboul Tyndale ami the New 
 I !, and he write* to the Lin:..' to warn him, "An 
 Englishman, . . . your subject, . . . bath translated the New 
 I iment into English, and within few days intendeth to
 
 42* LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 return with the same imprinted to England. I need not adver- 
 tize your Grace what infection and danger may ensue hereby if 
 it be not withstanded. . . . All our fathers and governors of the 
 Church of England hath with all diligence forbid and eschewed 
 publication of English Bibles." He exhorts the king to set 
 forth the standard against these Philistines, and to undertread 
 them that they shall not lift up their heads ; " knowing what 
 harm such books (Bibles !) hath done in your realm in times 
 past." 
 
 9. But the Protestants in England, some of them young 
 students of Oxford and Cambridge, some of them poor workmen 
 in London, formed themselves into a kind of society on purpose 
 to receive and spread abroad these precious forbidden books ; and 
 most wonderful adventures they had, and dangers, and hair- 
 breadth escapes. The police contrived to lay hands on a great 
 many of the Testaments after they were brought to England ; 
 the bishops too, who were set upon destroying them, bought up 
 all they could get. And one Sunday morning a tine sight was 
 
 to be seen in St. Paul's Cathedral. A platform was 
 
 1527. erected in the centre of the nave, on the top of 
 
 _ . which, enthroned in pomp of purple and gold and 
 
 burnt in splendour, sate the great cardinal ; around him were 
 
 St. Paul's, bishops, abbots, and doctors, also splendid in gowns 
 
 of damask and satin. In front of all this grandeur, 
 
 within a railing, a great fire was burning, with the sinful 
 
 books, both tracts and Testaments, ranged round it in baskets, 
 
 waiting for the execution of the sentence. Presently six 
 
 prisoners in penitential dresses carrying faggots were brought 
 
 in. These poor men were Protestants who had been captured and 
 
 persuaded to recant ; (we must not expect all men to be heroes). 
 
 They were made to kneel down with their faggots on their 
 
 shoulders, and beg pardon of God and Holy Church for their 
 
 offences. Then they were taken within the rail, and led three 
 
 times round the fire, casting in their faggots as they passed. Lastly 
 
 the books, the Gospels of Christ, were thrown on the flames also, 
 
 and no doubt the cardinal, the bishops, and the abbots felt very 
 
 triumphant. 
 
 10. This time, however, their cleverness had a little overshot 
 tli e mark. The condemned books had been bought through a 
 certain merchant named Packington, who was a secret friend of 
 Tyndale'a. Foxe takes great pleasure in telling us the story. 
 Packington says to the bishop, " ' If it be your lordship's pleasure, 
 I must disburse money to pay for them, or else I cannot have
 
 xi.ii 1 THE REFORMERS. 427 
 
 them, and so T will assure you to have every boolc of them that 
 is printed and unsold.' The bishop, thinking he had the matter 
 secured, said, ' Do your diligence, gentle Master Packington ; get 
 them for me, and [ will pay whatsoever they cost, for I intend 
 to burn and destroy them all at Paul's Cross.' This Augustine 
 Packington went unto Tyndale, and declared the whole matter; 
 and bo, upon compact made between them, the Bishop of London 
 had the books, Packington had the thanks, and Tyndale had the 
 money. After this Tyndale corrected the same New Testament 
 again, ami caused them to be newly imprinted, so that they came 
 thick and threefold over into England." 
 
 1 1. I gives us with equal enjoyment another specimen of 
 
 the way in which the 1 1 rgy tried to hinder the introduction of 
 the Bible. A Bernion v. ched on the subject at 
 
 Cambridge, by one of our old friends the friars. He . • 
 undertook to prove that it was not expedient for the t ^ friar 1 
 Scri] to be in English, " lest the ignorant and 
 
 vulgar Bort might be brought in danger to leave their vocation, or 
 run into some inconvenience; as, for example, the plo 
 . when he heareth this in the Gospel, ' No man that layeth 
 Ins hand on the plough, and looketh hack, is meet, for the king- 
 dom of God,' might peradventure, hearing this, cease from his 
 plough. Likewise the baker, when be heareth that 'a little leaven 
 corrupteth a whole Lump of dough, 1 may perchance Leave our 
 I unleavened, and so our bodies shall be unseasoned. . . . 
 ! e, with other mo (more), this clerkly (i iar brought out, to the 
 number of five, to prove hie purpose. . . . 
 
 I "_'. " Ma ter Latimer, hearing this friarly sermon of Doctor 
 Buckenham, cometb againe the afternoon, or shortly after, to the 
 church t i i the friar, where re orted to him a great multi- 
 
 tude, as well of the university a of the town, both doctors and 
 other graduates, with • pectation to hear what he could 
 
 whom a I o, directlj in the face of Latimer, underneath 
 the pulp Buckenham, the fore rid friar, prior of the Black 
 
 Friai , with his black friar's cowl aboul bis boulders." After 
 ! mer had preached some time, " refuting the friar, and answer- 
 ing his objections," he adder), with reference to the ploughman 
 and the Leaven, thai every I ■ bad il metaphors "and Like 
 
 figurative significations, so common and vulgar to all men that 
 
 the very painters <]o paint them on walls and on hotJ 68. 'As 
 
 for example,' saith he, looking towards the friar thai sate over 
 
 oat him, ' when they paint a fox preaching out of a friar's 
 
 cowl, none is so mad to take this to be a fox that preacheth, but
 
 428 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 know well enough the meaning of the matter, which is to point 
 nut unto us what hypocrisy, craft, and suhtle dissimulation lieth 
 hid many times in these friars' cowls, willing us thereby to beware 
 them.' In fine, friar Buckenham with this sermon was so dashed 
 that never after durst he peep out of the pulpit against Master 
 Latimer." ' 
 
 13. This " Master Latimer " was one of the greatest of the 
 English reformers, a man who was sure to have much influence; 
 hearty and earnest, bold, witty, and original ; his sermons, many 
 (d which are still preserved, are very plain-spoken and pithy, and 
 must have produced a great effect. Henry VIIL, who, with all 
 his arbitrariness, " loved a man " when he saw him, liked Latimer, 
 often hud him to preach before him, and presently made him 
 Bishop of Worcester. 
 
 14-. As for Tyndale, he was watched and persecuted for his 
 noble work, imprisoned, and at last put to death as a heretic. 
 The only letter of his that has been preserved is one 
 that was written while he was in prison in the castle 
 of Vilvorde in Flanders, and addressed to the governor. In it 
 he pleads for a few comforts, a warmer cap, and a warmer coat; 
 " for that which I have is very thin ; also a piece of cloth to 
 patch my leggings ; my overcoat is worn out ; my shirts are also 
 worn out. ... I wish also permission to have a candle in the 
 evening, for it is wearisome to sit alone in the dark. But ahove 
 all, I entreat and beseech your clemency to be urgent with the 
 Procureur that he may kindly permit me to have my Hebrew 
 Bible, Hebrew Grammar, and Hebrew Dictionary, that I may 
 spend my time with that study. And in return may you obtain 
 your dearest wish, provided always it be consistent with the sal- 
 vation "f your soul. But if any other resolution has been come 
 to concerning me, that I must remain during the whole winter, I 
 shall be patient, abiding the will of God, to the glory of the grace 
 of my Lord Jesus Christ, whose spirit I pray may ever direct 
 your heart." 
 
 15. It would seem almost enough to make us despair of tho 
 world's progress altogether to read that letter, and picture that 
 man ; the world so needing instruction; he so able, so longing to 
 give it, and condemned to sit through the long, dark evenings 
 without books, without even a candle. " No, you shall not work 
 for us," says the ignorant world. " But I will work for you, 
 though I die for it," says the martyr, and he dies indeed. But 
 his work lives, lives and bears fruit in a million hearts. 
 
 1 6. Four years after that pathetic letter was written, and when
 
 xlii.7 TI1E REFORMERS. 429 
 
 Tyndale had been put to death at Antwerp, the English Bible 
 
 published by authority of the king. While 
 Cromwell was minister the Protestants were much 153 9 
 favoured, and he and Cranmer worked together to T p-ti Engl j l sJl 
 help their cause, and especially to encourage instead lished bv 
 of forbid the reading of the Bible. One of the new authority. 
 English Bibles was now Bel up in every parish church 
 
 ad. The l it l«--]>.i^«- was ornamented with a picture. At 
 the top sits King Henry on bis throne, supreme bead both of •( Ihurch 
 and State, holding in his hand bhe " Verbum I >ei," which he distri- 
 - to the bishops and high officials; down at the bottom of 
 the page are the i pie in gi ueral, both priests and laymen, hold- 
 ing "Ut their hands for the books which the bishops dis- 
 tribute among them, and crying Vival Rex, and God save the 
 kin^'. The second edition of this Bible, with the sametitle-pi 
 ; now in the British Museum. 
 17. Another of Cromwell's work he one which we were 
 ■ before long — the putting down or dissolution 
 of the moi First the smaller ones w i re 
 
 up. \ had indeed abroad the 1536-9. 
 
 for the smaller ones were in Dissolution 
 rderly condition than the monasteries 
 i but before lonjj Cromwell proceeded to sup- 
 
 Ithy ones, some of which were -till decorous 
 and and where the monks and priors were really 
 
 and pious men, ready to die at their post e ir than 
 
 ii i<> wi: 'I mi as sacrilege and 
 
 robbery. 'I b offence to m iny of t he people ; 
 
 tin- nion had been in some ways a real help and refuge to 
 
 nee they were almo t always liberal and charitable, 
 
 • "nl and lodging to those who needed it. \ 
 
 ■ arefully \\ hether the 
 appli really did need their charity, they encouru 
 
 ind dependence w ho oughl to have been at 
 
 rid tlni it many more wi re now added to the 
 
 whom the government did not know what to 
 
 ith. 
 
 I - I(i" and tic book pla* < SromweU 
 
 and the king to be resisted. The rebellions 
 
 ilv piit, down, and Hi • work done. When the 
 
 abbeys and priories were broken up, the monks and nun 
 
 ill |" Dsiona for the reel of their live . varying accord- 
 ing to their rank in the mona tery; the nun., got about £4 a
 
 430 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 year, which in those days would go as far as forty would do 
 now. It appears that a great many of the younger, Loth monks 
 and nuns, were overjoyed at receiving their liberty. 
 
 19. Immense riches were thus thrown into the hands of the 
 government. Some of it, but not much, was used for religious 
 purposes, for founding new bishoprics, colleges, and schools ; tbe 
 greater part the king used in rewarding his friends and courtiers. 
 Thus it is that, even now, many laymen, nobles, and others live 
 in what are still called abbeys and priories. Though there is little 
 doubt that it was for the lasting good of the country that all this 
 took place, it gave Henry and the Reformation a bad name, as 
 being robbers and spoilers, that they kept so much of this great 
 wealth for their own uses. 
 
 20. Now too came the end of Becket's shrine and the Canter- 
 bury pilgrimages. The king gave forth a proclamation, saying 
 
 that he and his council, having looked into the matter, 
 found that Thomas a Becket, far from being a saint, 
 was a rebel and a traitor. Henceforth no more honour was to 
 be paid to him ; no more pilgrims were to kneel at his tomb. 
 The beautiful and costly shrine was broken up. That precious 
 and miraculous jewel which the King of France had bestowed 
 was set in a ring, which Henry wore upon his thumb, and was 
 afterwards placed in a necklace by his daughter Mary. 
 
 21. All these wonderful changes have produced lasting effects 
 on the thoughts, characters, and lives of Englishmen. The 
 
 other events of the reign must be passed over hastily. 
 
 ^mestfc' 8 Everybody knows that Henry VIII. had six wives, 
 
 lif e _ and we need not waste time over them. Gossip 
 
 and scandal are still gossip and scandal, even when 
 they are 300 years old. Two of the six wives were divorced; it 
 was in making tbe match for one of these, Anne of Cleves, that 
 Cromwell fell into disgrace and lost his head. Two were 
 beheaded : one of whom was Anne Boleyn, for whose sake poor 
 Queen Katherine had been set aside, and who was the mother of 
 Qaeen Elizabeth. One died a natural death while the king was 
 still alive ; and the last, after being in some danger now and 
 then, survived him. Yet he had but three children. Of those 
 three not one left a child, and only one was considered by 
 everybody to be legitimate.* 
 
 * Henry's wives : — 
 
 1. Katherine of Aragon, divorced. 4. Anne of Cleves, divorced. 
 
 2. Anne Bolevn, beheaded. 5. Katherine Howard, beheaded. 
 0. Jane Seymour, died a natural death. 6. Katherine I'arr, survived him. 

 
 xlii.] THE REFORMERS. 431 
 
 22. Henry's latter days were not glorious. He had some 
 unimportant Mars both in France and Scotland, which brought 
 neither profit nor renown. After the fall of Cromwell, who was 
 a staunch Protestant, he fell back under the influence of the 
 Romanist party. He published six articles (1539), containing 
 many of the principal Roman Catholic doctrines, to which every 
 one was bound to conform. But as it was not so easy for 
 
 • liable- and thinking men to alter their opinions merely because 
 the lfiTig had altered his, some more Protestants were 1547 
 burnt as heretics. Henry died, old before his time, si s death. 
 in L5 17. 
 
 I, With all his faults and inconsistencies, it ought to be 
 remembered that, compared with other countries of Europe, he 
 guided England through a most dangerous and exciting crisis 
 prudently and successfully. In < lermany the Reformation was the 
 cause of a most long and terrible war before it could be estab- 
 lished in tl; trie* which longed for it. The same was the 
 ill II Hand. In I and Spain the tyrannical kings 
 
 bed it her. In Enj Land, as we have seen, it was 
 
 lished almost peaceably, and Boon, though not all at once, 
 took 1 : ' the In I he pe»
 
 4.-V2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 LECTURE XLIIL— THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 
 
 Edward VI. Protector Somerset. The Reformation urged forward. 
 Revolt in the west. Revolt in. the east. Death of Somerset, Death 
 of Edward, Lady Jane Grey. Mary and Philip. Romanism restored. 
 The Protestant martyrs. 
 
 1. At the end of the Wars of the Roses, which had been caused 
 by rival families fighting for the throne, it was hoped that 
 through the marriage of Henry of Lancaster with Elizabeth of 
 York all such difficulties were ended for ever, and that their 
 children and children's children would succeed each other in 
 peace. But all these hopes proved vain ; and though there were 
 no more civil wars on these grounds, yet there were great dis- 
 quiets and disputes, and many terrible deaths of innocent people, 
 caused by the confusion of rival claimants. 
 
 2. Henry VIII. , who was so anxious to have lawful heirs, and 
 bad put that forth, indeed, as the excuse for his matrimonial 
 adventures, had really made the confusion greater. The House 
 
 of Parliament had endeavoured to cut the knot by 
 The children reco gnizing the claims of all his three children, 
 He °VIII though there were doubts about the legitimacy of 
 two of them, the princesses .Mary and Elizabeth. 
 Those who believed that Katherine of Aragon had been Henry's 
 lawful wife, and that the divorce made without the Pope's 
 consent was illegal, looked on Anne Boleyn's daughter Elizabeth 
 as illegitimate; those who considered the marriage between 
 Henry and his brother's widow no marriage, and thought the 
 divorce a real one, looked on Katherine's daughter Mary as 
 illegitimate. But parliament had decided that both should be con- 
 f-id en-das lawful heirs to the crown in due order after their brother. 
 
 3. It did not seem very likely that all these three would die 
 childless (though it fell out so in fact), but if they did, the 
 crown was then to go to the descendants of Henry's younger 
 sister. The elder one, who had married the King of Scot- 
 land, was set aside; but it was her grandson, who came- to
 
 xi.iri J THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 433 
 
 the throne at last. Meanwhile, we have to attend to the reigns 
 of II' ■■ ■ - three children, all of which were very important. 
 The eldest of the three was the Princess Mary, M 
 daughter of Catherine of Aragon. One cannot help 
 feeling great pity for her ; her young days wen- made viry hitter 
 by the undi disgrace of her mother. After being looked 
 
 on as princess royal, and heir to the crown, she had to endure 
 the mortification of being treated as illegitimate, and seeing her 
 niofher divorced and sent away from the court, whilst a gay 
 young rival was set up in her place. Moreover, both she and 
 her mother w> . ited to the old religion, the Spaniards 
 
 being always the most fervent of Romanists. And as the fall of 
 Katherine and of Romanism went hand in hand, so the personal 
 and religious feeling wenl hand in hand in Mary's mind, and 
 she grew up with an intolerable sense of wrong on both grounds. 
 -in to have been either beautiful or clever, and 
 she was Belf-willed, like all the Tudors ; but she was sincere and 
 honest, and at this time more t<> be pitied than blamed. 
 
 I. The next daughter, Elizabeth, who at the death of her 
 father was about fourtei a, was the child of Anne Bolej a. She 
 had het strong will too, but then she was clever, 
 hearty, and good-looking, she was gay and vain, Elizabeth. 
 hex mother, and, moreover, stingy, untruthful, and artful; 
 
 he had many line and strong points of character, and when 
 
 h< r turn came to n much Loved as her unfortunate 
 
 r u.i- hatch She was brought up a Protestant, and Cran- 
 
 mer wa hex godfather, bul be does uol eem to bavi eared for 
 
 much as fox politii 
 
 ame young Edward, who was now about nine years 
 
 did. and, whose mother having lived an irreproachable life, and 
 
 died a natural death, as Henry's wife, was the on- 
 
 I heir to the throne. It it rather difficult _,' '. 
 t" find out the truth about the character of th 
 who lived al thi ■ period, becau e their biographers nearly always 
 judged them according to which religious side they topk. It 
 they wexe Prot the Prote tant write] make them out to 
 
 be perfect, and Like tint* and while the Roman Catholic 
 
 can hardly find word bad enough fox thi m ; and just the 
 raxy if they were on the other side ; do one eemed able to 
 judge dis pa lionately. It is perbaps difficult even for oursel 
 
 h people cannot help still feeling strongly 
 
 about the d of thai time Noi I i in the Least 
 
 now about the Red ox the White Rose, oi wheth 
 
 l F
 
 434 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot, 
 
 Lancaster gained the victory; but most of us still care a great 
 deal about our Protestant religion, our Bibles and Prayer-bonks, 
 and should be quite ready to flame up at the idea of the Pope 
 using any authority over our country. This makes the period 
 of the Reformation so interesting. 
 
 6. But making all allowances for the partiality of Protestant- 
 writers, it is impossible not to see that Edward VI. was really 
 a most remarkable boy, with wonderful intelligence, and a 
 sweet and noble nature. He was described by one of his tutors 
 as "the beautif idlest creature that liveth under the sun, the 
 liveliest, the most amiable, and the gentlest thing of all the 
 world; such a spirit of capacity in learning the things tan-lit 
 him by his schoolmasters, that it is a wonder to hear say; and, 
 finally, he hath such a grace of port and gesture in gravity when 
 he cometh into any presence, that it should seem he were 
 already a father, and yet passeth he not the age of ten years." 
 When he was about thirteen years old it is said that he had 
 learnt seven languages, and was thoroughly acquainted with his 
 own, as well as with French and Latin. " Nor was he ignorant 
 of logic, of the principles of natural philosophy, or of music." 
 !l • also took great interest in affairs of State. One can hardly 
 wonder that a boy who had received such an education, and had 
 sueh a precocious mind, never lived to -row up. "That child 
 was so educated, possessed surh abilities, and caused such ex- 
 pectations that he appeared a miracle." 
 
 7. lie was also a very religious child, and we are particularly 
 told with what wonderful pleasure he, listened to the Ion- 
 sermons which it was the custom of the reforming bishops to 
 preach before him. But if they were all as lively and racy as 
 Bishop Latimer's, this appears less surprising. 
 
 8. The king being so young, tin; government was placed in 
 
 the hands of a council, at the bead of which was Edward's uncle, 
 
 the Duke of Somers< t, brother to his mother. This 
 
 Protector { \ u ] iti was a ]nos t decided Protestant, far more 
 
 andPro- decided tlmn Heni 7 VIIL had been > !U1(1 he iiml 
 
 testaDtLii. Archbishop Cranmer pushed on the Reformation 
 
 mo irously. The greatest changes they made 
 
 were the e, which bad been partly attempted before, hut had 
 
 not been definitely settled : — 
 
 (1) The Church service was to be in English instead of in Latin. 
 {•1) [mages, crosses, pictures, and the like were no longer to 
 be treated with excessive veneration, and in most cases were 
 troyed.
 
 xi.m.] THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 435 
 
 (3) Worship of the Virgin and the saints was to be given up. 
 ( h Confession to a | as not to be compulsory. 
 
 The doctrine of transubstantiation was declared untrue. 
 ■ The clergy were to be permitted to many. 
 Though these things may seem quite plain to us now, and 
 most of us have been taught them all our lives, they were very 
 serious changes to force upon people all at once. It is very diffi- 
 cult ' up what we have believed from our childhood, even 
 wnen it is quite clear to our understanding thai the belief was 
 mistaken. And about these points numbers of half-educated, 
 : r have thai made quite clear to them, 
 whilst numbers ■•!' others clung with affectionate tenderness to 
 the faith of their fathers. It must ba^ e given bitter pain to these 
 • • ;md hear much that they had been used to love 
 aud revi I with contempt and derision. Thechurches 
 in England up to this time had looked much as tie y now look 
 in | nd Italy; they had sacred pictures in them, ima 
 which were thougl holy, and before which poor people 
 
 . . with a full convict ion that their pra; 
 would to The Protestants, regarding all this as idolatry, 
 
 ii i he in ind to break the stained 
 
 wind • This must have hurt 
 
 of the old worshippers very sorely, and hum:, 
 
 that it mighl have been more gently 
 in authority were n nl lenet 
 
 ad tie-. uted those who w 
 
 'I hey had not yet leai tied the pirit of < !h 
 
 i •• call down fire Erom heaven " on those 
 
 rnt i | r woman just now for ladling 
 
 bout ' 'i ncarnation. They put t wo 
 
 of tl i G trdiner and Bonner, in pri 
 
 them ; before the 
 
 • and ' it in favour of i he reforme I religion 
 
 Gai diner verj 1 he 
 
 digion to the clergy, 
 
 and i i meddle with it." He ilso declared he would speak 
 
 he w ere to 1"' hanged fox it w hen he Li ft t lie 
 
 pulp 
 
 li» welcomed, and 
 
 i ti London and in ot her towm . e pecially 
 
 h( re the people were more Into : . bet ti r edu 
 
 1 could read tl In the mi 
 
 of th atry it made but little way, and the people were 
 
 F f 2
 
 436 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [leot. 
 
 greatly enraged at the changes which were introduced. Before 
 long those in the west country, in Cornwall and Devonshire, 
 began to rebel. 
 
 11. The prayer-book was ordered to be first read in English 
 on a Whitsunday. This prayer-book, which was principally 
 
 arranged by Cranmer, contained scarcely anything 
 
 1549. liew ; nearly all the prayers were translated from the 
 
 Rising in }^ Latin ones, which had been used by Christians 
 
 counties, through many centuries, leaving out the parts which 
 
 were contrary to the reformed doctrines. Bat as 
 they were now in English instead of in Latin, they were as good, 
 or rather as bad, as new in the ears of the unlearned, and they 
 listened with great indignation on that Whitsunday. In par- 
 ticular there was one village on Dartmoor where the congrega- 
 tion was much offended. The next morning, when the clergy- 
 man was going into church to say the prayers for Whitmonday, 
 the parishioners came about him, declaring they would have none 
 of the new fashions, they would have the old religion of their 
 fathers. The priest was most likely very glad in his heart to be 
 compelled to go back to the old way. He put on his vestments 
 and said mass in Latin, " the common people in all the country 
 round clapping their hands for joy." 
 
 12. This was the beginning of it ; other places round soon fol- 
 lowed the example ; and when it was heard of in London the 
 council sent orders to have the resistance put down promptly and 
 sternly. It was not at all easy to put down. Thousands of men 
 rose in rebellion; there were some hard battles, and the city of 
 Exeter was besieged ; but in the end the government conquered ; 
 the rebels were defeated, and their leaders put to death ; one 
 priest was hanged on his own church tower. 
 
 13. While this was going on in the west, another rebellion 
 broke out in the east ; not on religious grounds this time, for 
 
 the eastern counties were more inclined to Protest- 
 Rising in jmtiam but rather in resistance to the great land- 
 
 the eastern ' , , i j i „i 
 
 counties, owners, who were enclosing common lands, and also 
 
 turning a great deal of ploughed land into sheep- 
 farms. This practice had been a serious grievance to the poor 
 for a long time, ever since it had been first begun soon after the 
 Black Death. Sir Thomas More, who was a great observer of the 
 condition of the poor, had written about it, saying that the 
 sheep, " which are naturally mild and easily kept in order, may 
 be said now to devour men, and unpeople not only villages, but 
 towns." The enclosing of the common lands was almost worse,
 
 xliii.] THE STRUGGLE OF TIIE CHURCHES. 437 
 
 because it was depriving the poor of what had always heen their 
 right, the feeding of their pigs and other animals. Protector 
 Somerset an<l Bishop Latimer thought these poor men had some 
 right on their Bide. Latimer, indeed, in his plain-spoken way, 
 preached a sermon on the suhject, in which, though he said 
 both parties were covetous, yet he very clearly defined what the 
 labourers had a right to demand. 
 
 14. "The poorest ploughman is in Christ," said he, "equal 
 with the greatest prince thai is. Let them therefore have suffi- 
 cient to maintain them, and to find them their necessaries." He 
 says they must have some sheep to "help to fatten the ground;" 
 
 must bave swine for their fund ; " their bacon is theirvenison 
 (for they shall now have hangum fuum if they get any other 
 venison)" — it was felony to steal deer; " they must have other 
 cattle, as horses to draw their plough, and for carriage of things 
 to the markets, and kine for their milk and cheese. . . . These 
 
 cattle must bave pasture, which pasture if they lack, the rest must 
 needs fail them. And pasture they cannot have if the land is 
 taken in and enclosed from them." 
 
 15. < lommissioners were gent Mown into the disturbed country 
 to inquire into the complaints of the people, but tbey did hut 
 little good. "I remember mine own self," says Latimer, "a 
 
 al man who sate in commission about such 
 
 and when the townsmen should bring in (or report) 
 
 what had been inclosed, he frowned and chafed, and bo looked 
 
 and threatened the poor men that they dont not ask for their 
 
 16. These men a) in rebellion, took possession of the 
 city of Norwich, and made themselves so dangerous that they 
 
 ■ 1 to be put down with the strong hand, and 
 their principal leadi cuted. What made the matter v 
 
 that the government hired German troops to fight and 
 lue the Engli h. II I bat no let than 10,000 men 
 
 killeil in the e out break ; . 
 
 1 7. These di i bt the ! >uke of Somer el into 
 discredit. He managed foreign affairs as badly, and the nation 
 
 confidence in him. He had also ama ed a Large fortune 
 himself out of the Church lands, and was nol wi ;h to 
 
 be unostentatious, He wa fond of bow and Bplendour, and 
 built himself a large and palace In the Strand (where 
 
 Somei ■ li i e now stands). To make room for it he pulled 
 down a parish church, and to provide materials he blew up with 
 gunpowder a beautiful Roman Catholic chapel lately built, and
 
 43S 
 
 LECTURES OX ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 fl.'ECT. 
 
 gave 
 
 of Northuni' 
 berland. 
 
 part of the cloisters of St. Paul's. All this 
 
 -j. great offence ; and in the end the duke was deposed, 
 
 Somerset. anf ^ ^ e so nianv eminent men in those days, ended 
 his life on the scaffold. 
 
 18. But though an imprudent, impetuous man, he was wcll- 
 meaning and generous, and when he was beheaded much sorrow 
 and pity were felt for him. The king being still very young, 
 another man now came into power, the Duke of Northumberland. 
 He professed to be a zealous Protestant too, but most of his real 
 care was not for religion at all, but for his own family interest. 
 And now began fresh troubles about the succession to the throne. 
 King Edward was already in very delicate health ; it was feared 
 that he would not live long, and there was a terrible prospect 
 before the Protestants if he died. The next person to reign 
 would be the Princess Mary, a proud, narrow-minded, bitter, 
 and bigoted woman. 
 
 19. Northumberland worked upon the mind of the young 
 king, who was a most ardent Protestant, and persuaded him to 
 
 make a will, altering the succession, which he had 
 no right to do without the consent of parliament. 
 Moreover, he induced him to pass over not only his 
 sister Mary, but also Elizabeth, and to go to the 
 family who came next after them, the children of Henry VII. 's 
 younger daughter. One of the granddaughters of this princess 
 was Lady Jane Grey, who hail been lately married to the Duke 
 of Northumberland's son, and it was she whom the duke fixed 
 on as heiress of the crown. But, of course, if they went to that 
 family at all, they should have taken the mother, who was still 
 alive, before the daughter. 
 
 I'M. Edward, however, was persuaded to make a will to this 
 effect, k: the interest, as he hoped, of the Protestant religion. 
 Cranmer, to do him justice, was very unwilling to consent, for 
 though he knew what Mary was, and that she had a special 
 grudge against himself for the part he had taken in her mother's 
 divorce, still he was convinced that she had a right to the crown 
 unless parliament declared the contrary. Ltowever, he was 
 brought, to conseul at last, and very soon after the 
 young king died. One of his lasl acts,after hearing 
 a i rmorj by Bishop Ridley on the duty of charity, 
 was to found the Blue-Coat School and St. Bar- 
 tholomew's 
 work. Almost 
 chosen people of England . . . defend this realm from papistry, 
 
 1553. 
 
 Death of 
 Edward VI. 
 
 was I/O 1UII11U Hie 1>lw;-kjkjcK, >" .11". II anvx UU. o^cvi 
 
 Hospital, both of which are still doing such good 
 lost his Last words were, " Oh, Lord God, save Thy
 
 xi.m.] THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 439 
 
 ami maintain the true religion, that I and my people may praise 
 Thy holy name; for Thy Son Jesus Christ's sake. Amen." 
 
 21. Directly he was dead the troubles began. There were 
 two queens, or would-be queens, each with their party. Lady 
 Jane Grey was a great contrast to Mary; she was 
 
 now about sixteen years old, and as good and wise ^ ne 
 a< her cousin Edward had been. It was customary 
 at th it time for young ladies of high rank to receive as good 
 an education as their brothers did, and this young girl is said to 
 learnt, besides her own, seven other languages, including 
 Arabic and Chaldee, though one has one's doubts about that. 
 She was, at any rate, a good Greek scholar, and could enjoy read- 
 Plato in the original when about thirteen or fourteen years 
 <>M. A very eminent Bcholar of that day, Roger Ascham, gives 
 an account of a visit be paid her about this time, and his great 
 surprise at finding her with her Greek books instead of amusing 
 If with the n--t of tli" family, who were bunting in the 
 park. He could not forbear i Lng his astonishment, and 
 
 inquiring how -he , much pleasure in that deep philoso- 
 
 phy. Her answer made it all very clear. "I will tell you.'' 
 md I will tel] you a truth which perchance you will 
 marvel at. One of the greatest benefits which ever God gave 
 ne-. i- that lb- -<:i: me juch sharp and severe parents, and so 
 ber. For when I am in presence of either 
 ; r or mother, whether I peak, keep silence, sit, stand, 
 t, drink, be merr] ewing, playing, dancing, 
 
 or doing anything else, I am so sharply taunted, .,, cruelly 
 denedj yea, presently, sometimes with pinches, nip-, and 
 i '. s which 1 will not n. one for the honour 1 
 
 to without measure misordered that I think myself 
 
 in hell nil time come thai I mast, go to Master Aylmer, who 
 
 i Hitly, with such lair allurements 
 to learniug, that I think all the time nothing when I am with 
 him ; and when I am called from him I fall to weeping, bee 
 whi' I bat learning is full of grief, trouble, and 
 
 1 and wholly mi liking unto ma And thus my 1 k Inn 
 
 been bo much my plea in , and brings daily to me more and 
 more pleasure." 
 
 22. she was brought up as a I' it, and Beems to have 
 redly reflected on the subjects of di pute, and to have been 
 sine. -rely religious. When en be was married to 
 I. old Guildford Dudley, but she had no idea •<( the ambil 
 Bchemes and plots oi her father-in-law, and when be, with fotu
 
 44 ) LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 other noblemen, came to tell her that King Edward was dead, 
 and that she was to be Queen of England, she was terribly 
 shocked and frightened. She says herself, in a long letter 
 written by her afterwards to Queen Mary, that, "overcome by 
 sudden and unlooked-for sorrow, she fell to the ground weeping 
 bitterly, and that she heard these things with a troubled mind, 
 and with much grief and displeasure of heart." She complains 
 that she was deceived by the duke and the couneil, and ill- 
 treated by her husband and his mother. Thus this sweet and 
 innocent girl was led to her ruin. She was proclaimed queen, 
 and for one short fortnight acted as such; but the whole nation 
 well knew that she had no right to that title, and when Mary 
 was proclaimed by her supporters she was universally accepted. 
 The Duke of Northumberland was tried and beheaded, and Lady 
 Jane Grey and her young husband were imprisoned in the 
 Tower. 
 
 23. Mary very soon began to show her will about religion. 
 On the day of her coronation she even refused to sit in St. 
 
 Edward's chair, the chair with the sacred stone, 
 ^? een fearing it had been polluted by having been the 
 
 seat of her Protestant brother Edward, arid she was 
 crowned sitting in another chair sent over by the Pope. The 
 two Roman Catholic bishops, Bonner and Gardiner, were brought 
 out of prison and promoted to great authority, while Cranmer, 
 Latimer, and Ridley, and other Protestants were kept in con- 
 iinement. The English prayer-book was set aside, and the Latin 
 mass said again. 
 
 24. It was considered very important that the queen should 
 marry. Her will was as strong upon this point as it was upon 
 religion. The whole country wished her to marry some Englishman; 
 
 but Mary had set her heart upon marrying her cousin 
 Philip of pj 1 jiip ) w ) l0 was ] ie j r t tho crown of Spain, and 
 
 very soon became king. She hail never even seen 
 more of him than a portrait, but it appears she fell deeply in Live 
 with that. Now the English people hated and detested the 
 thought of this match. Spain had lately risen to be one of the 
 most powerful, rich, and important countries of Europe. Philip's 
 grandfather having married the heiress of the Dukeof Burgundy, 
 he was not only King of Spain, but also of the rich provinces 
 of Handera, and many other territories. Moreover, the Spaniards 
 had taken possession of a great part of the New World they had 
 helped to discover, especially Mexico and Peru, where they found 
 mines of gold, which made them enormously wealthy.
 
 xi.rnl THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 4tl 
 
 25. The English felt persuaded that if their queen married 
 the King of Spain, and above all, if he should come to be King 
 of England too, as his wife would be sure to wish, his vast 
 power and width would, as it were, swallow up and overpower 
 England, which would sink into being a mere dependency of 
 Spain. This was one great objection; another was the 
 religion. 
 
 The Spaniards were the most bigoted of all Papists, and 
 the most cruel ; and this Philip was perhaps the most cold- 
 blooded and hard-hearted persecutor whom the world has ever 
 seen, except his general and deputy, the Duke of Alva. That 
 nrm's portrait was painted by Rubens, and is now in England ; 
 his pale face looking as though east in iron; his tall, splendid 
 horse Beeraing to trample the world under its hoofs, and the red 
 sky behind One cau hardly heir the names of those two 
 without a shudder. It was in Spain above all that the terrible 
 Inquisition flourished, the grand work of the 
 '• Domini Cam It was an awful power; the Inqui8 i tion . 
 
 inquisitors worked in the dark; anyone suspected 
 of heresy might be eeized, dragged before a mysterious tribunal 
 without knowing what charge would be brought against him, nor 
 who brought it. questioned, tortured, and burnt. 
 
 27. Daring the three centuries thai this dreadful power existed 
 in Spain, it is believed that 32,000 persons were burnt by it, 
 and hundreds of thousands suffered other hard punishments. 
 The last was a woman, who was burnt Less than 
 
 Ion yean ago. At the period "l Mary's accession tin' [n- 
 ition was in full rigour, doing it- l» I or worst to put 
 down the Reformation. In Spain it was quite successful ; the 
 ; 'its were utterly crushed ; and Philip \vi ihed to do ju t 
 
 I ■ in bis other dominion "f Flanders, where there w n i 
 
 • many Pro It. mi at Antwerp, as we saw, that 
 
 Tyndale and his friends worked bo long. 
 
 Licl . had been publi ihed to recall Hi 1 ' I 
 iota or heretics to the faith of the Church. Part of one of 
 them tin thin: "Women who have fallen into ..„_ 
 heresy shall be buried alive, Men, if they recant, 
 shall lose their heads ; if they continue obstinate they shall 1"- 
 burnt at thi If man or woman be suspected of her 
 
 no one shall shelter or proteci him or her. . . . The [nquisition 
 shall inquire into the private opinions of every person "f what- 
 ever degree. . . . Th"-i' who know where heretics are hiding 
 shall them, or they shall mtfer a In In
 
 442 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot 
 
 Under these edicts it is incredible how many human beings were 
 murdered. 
 
 29. It is not wonderful that the English were resolved to 
 have as little to do with Spain ami with King Philip as they 
 
 could. At the prospect of Mary's marriage the 
 
 . 1554 f , Kentish men, who seem to have had a greater genius 
 
 men^of Kent 6 ^ or revolting than the rest of the country, rose once 
 
 more in rebellion. This time they were not led by 
 men like Wat Tyler or Jack Cade, they were headed by a Kentish 
 gentleman, Sir Thomas Wyatt, who was a scholar and a poet, 
 and was worthy of a better end. His father had been a poet 
 too, and Tennyson shows him to us in his old castle in Kent, 
 stringing his father's sonnets, 
 
 " Left nhout 
 Like loosely scatter'd jewels," 
 
 just as he is called away to head the rebels. 
 
 " Ah, grev old castle of Alington, green field 
 Beside tin- brimming Medway, it may chance 
 That 1 shall never look upon you more," 
 
 he says, as he turns away, never, indeed, to look upon them 
 more. Once again the rebels marched to London, and once again 
 1 lev were defeated. Mary behaved like a queen; she showed 
 so brave and gallant a spirit that, for once, she kindled a sort of 
 enthusiasm; the Londoners took her part, the rebellion was 
 crushed, and Wyatt, and the other principal leaders put to death. 
 After tlii-, though the young prisoners in the Tower, Lady 
 Jane Grey and her husband, were perfectly innocent of having 
 taken any share in it. it was considered prudent to prevent any 
 farther danger from them by beheading them also. It was even 
 propo<", l. [n order to establish Mary securely on her throne, to put 
 ter Elizabeth to death; hut, this was rather too bold a 
 measure to venture upon, for Elizabeth was already popular with 
 
 the people. 
 
 :;n. After all tlii-; v r, Mary, who was as pertinacious 
 
 and self -willed as all tie- Tudors, though far more stupid than 
 Diosl of them, took her own Avay, and married the 
 The queen's K m g ,,f Spain. It was a very unhappy marriage, 
 mamage. g^j^j ,,,,,.,, p n ili p , and Philip hated England; 
 lie had no love lor his wife, who was older than himself, and 
 not attractive, though she really loved him, strange as it appeared
 
 xliii.] THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 443 
 
 to every one who knew them. She longed earnestly for a child, 
 but she never had one. 
 
 31. The other great thing on which she had set her heart was 
 to brine back England to the Church, and to be reconciled to the 
 
 It seemed as if she also succeeded in that 
 for a time. Her cousin Cardinal Pole came over to ^ ngla " d 
 England as the Pope's legate, bringing pardon and ^ac^to the 
 
 Lution. The Houses of Parliament, both Lords Pope, 
 and Commons, bent their English pride down to the 
 point <if falling on their knees before him to be absolved and 
 
 aciled. But though they consented to humble themselves so 
 far, they would nol consent, as the queen desired, to give up their 
 Church laud.- again, their abbeys and priories, and the Pope was 
 compelled to yield that point. They perhaps thought, like Prince 
 Bismarck, " Beati possidentes." 
 
 32. The statutes agaiDst heretics were now revived, and the 
 work of Mary which has left the deepest impression on the 
 
 ; Englishmen was the persecution to which 
 
 f, and which earned for her her terrible 1555. 
 name <>f " Bloody Mary.'' Eer principal supporters Persec utiou 
 and coadjutors were Gardiner and Bonner, W '" |SI ' p ro testauts 
 
 con led hers. Bonner was t he Bishop of 
 
 London, and a Letter written some years afterwards, on the occa- 
 
 of his death, tells that they were compelled to bury him 
 
 : itely at. dead of night, lesl "the people of the city (to 
 
 .i Bonner in his life was most odious) . . . might have 
 
 been moved with indignation, and so some quarrelling and tumult 
 
 mig ! thereupon." Those who still Loved their 
 
 Mid there \ t tinny of them, even among the 
 
 humbler classes, had to bide them away now. " When my great 
 
 ther wished to read to his family," wrote the descendant 
 
 I nit blacksmith, "one of the children was stationed 
 
 Lve notice n' he saw the proctor (an officer of the 
 
 .sj>ii lit; make hi- appearance," in which case the Bible 
 
 tily hidden away. Two hundred pel "in or more wen; 
 
 publicly burned during M i of five years. 
 
 >. Now at. la -i came the end "I the brave old Bishop Latimer. 
 He and Ridley, another of the most eminent Protestant la hops, 
 who had been in priflon for two yeaxa, were condemned 
 
 I. preaching and his speaking jJjJL 
 had had a wonderful effeel on men's minds; bul his 
 
 words were his mosl famous. There is hardly a child in 
 England who has not heard how he turned to hi fellow-martyr
 
 444 LECTURES -ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 when the fin 1 was kindled, saving, "Be of good comfort, Master 
 Ridley, and play the man ; we shall this day light such a candle, 
 by God's grace, in England as I trust shall never be put out." 
 
 34. Prophetic words. That candle never has been put out. 
 We may trace the real success of the reformed religion, and the 
 deep root it has struck in English hearts, in great measure to 
 Queen Mary and her persecutions. When the people saw the 
 mail vis, their courage, and faith, and constancy in the midst of 
 cruel pain ; when they heard their noble words, it had more effect 
 than whole libraries of arguments. All the sympathy,' admira- 
 tion, and reverence the people had they poured at the feet of the 
 martyrs ; all their hatred they turned on the cruel queen and her 
 advisers. 
 
 35. Not long after the martyrdom of Latimer and Ridley it 
 came to the turn of Archbishop Cranmer. He was not made ot 
 
 such heroic stuff as they, and at first, to save his 
 _ ' life, he was induced to sign a recantation, declaring 
 
 that he renounced, abhorred, and detested all the 
 heresies and errors of Luther, that he acknowledged the Bishop 
 of Lome to be the supreme head of the Church and Christ's vicar 
 on earth, and that he believed in transubstantiation, purgatory, 
 and all things which the Church of Lome held and taught. 
 
 36. " The queen," says Foxe, " having now gotten a time to 
 revenge her old greefe (grievance), received his recantation very 
 gladly ; but of her purpose to put him to death she would 
 nothing relent. Now was Cranmer's cause in a miserable taking, 
 who neither inwardly had aDy quiet in his own conscience, nor 
 yet outwardly any help in his adversaries." His recantation 
 availed nothing, and he too was led forth to die. Now his spirit 
 rose, and he found courage to do what was perhaps harder than 
 death itself, to own in the bearing of all the people that fear and 
 faint-heartedness had made him false ; that the writing which he 
 had signed was contrary to the truth, and contrary to his heart ; 
 '•and forasmuch," said he, "as my hand offended, writing 
 contrary to my heart, my hand shall first be punished therefore, 
 foi .vlieii I come to the fire it shall first be burned." 
 
 37. His enemies, on hearing this, "began to rage, fret, and 
 fume, and to tax him with falsehood and dissimulation. ' Ah, 
 my masters,' quoth he, 'do not you take it so. Always since 
 I lived hitherto I have been a hater of falsehood, and a lover of 
 simplicity, and never before this time have I dissembled;' and 
 in saying this all the tears that remained in bis body appeared 
 in his eyes. ... It is marvellous what commiseration and
 
 xliii.] THE STRUGGLE OF THE CHURCHES. 445 
 
 pity moved all men's hearts that beheld so heavy a countenance, 
 and such abundance of tears in an old man of so reverend 
 dignity. . . . And when the wood was kindled, and the fire 
 began to burn near him, stretching out his arm, he put his right 
 hand into the flame, which he held so steadfast and immovable 
 . . . that all men might see his hand burned before his body was 
 touched. His body did so abide the burning of the flame with 
 such incy and steadfastness that, standing always in one 
 
 place, he seemed to move no more than the stake to which he 
 was bound ; his eyes were lifted up unto heaven, and oftentimes 
 he repeated his ' unworthy right hand ' so long as his voice 
 would sutler him ; and using of the words of Stephen, Lord 
 Jesus, receive my spirit, in the greatness of the flame, he gave 
 up the ghost." 
 
 38. Happily foi England, Mary's reign was short. Her latter 
 were very miserable. Her husband left her and went 
 away to his own dominions; for the English would never 
 nt, to promise, as she wished, that he should be king after 
 her death ; but he drew her and England into a war with 
 France, which had a disastrous end. The, city of Calais was the 
 one littl i French ground which, after all the centuries of 
 
 fighting, had remained to the English, and they were bent upon 
 at Least keeping that. In this war, however, the 
 
 eh regained possession of it. England no Longer 1558. 
 had a foothold in France; and this Loss, terrible as it cai-iis 
 Fell to be by all the country, seemed to be almost 
 
 death blow. ''When l die," she said, "Calais will 
 rand written iu my heart." 
 The poor, proud, for aken woman, Loved by no 
 
 hardly pitied .i- she deserved, died before that _ , • , 
 
 . , , ■ 11,1 ii ,i Di ;ith of 
 
 is out ' ardinal role died a1 toe verj same Mary 
 time, and the Pope 1"-; all power in En Land for 
 
 ■
 
 44G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lkct. 
 
 LECTURE XLIV.— THE TWO QUEENS. 
 
 Elizabeth. Her character, ner ministers. The Church .and the Puritans. 
 Mary, Queen of Scots. Babington's conspiracy. Trial and execution 
 of Mary. 
 
 1. When Mary died it seemed as if a thick black cloud -was 
 
 rolled away from the sky, and Elizabeth shone out like a 
 
 " bright occidental star," as she is called in oui 
 
 El' b th Bibles. The contrast between her and her sister 
 
 seemed greater than ever. Mary had grown more 
 
 and more morose, more and more cruel and bitter. Elizabeth 
 
 was the people's hope and darling. Mary had been afraid of 
 
 and persecuted her, which made them love her all the more. 
 
 There was much that was attractive about her ; she was as well 
 
 educated as her brother and Lady Jane Grey ; she knew Latin 
 
 and Greek, French and Italian; she liked poptry, music, and 
 
 dancing; she enjoyed everything gay and splendid. She had 
 
 indeed a great many faults, hut in spite of them all Bhe was the 
 
 pride and idol <>f the English nation throughout her long rei^n. 
 
 -. And why? Because to tint bottom of her heart she loved 
 her people, tside si rain, changeable, fickle, deceitful ; 
 
 but in her heart's core she loved England, and whatever she (lid 
 was alwi king its peace, its glory, and its happi- 
 
 In the very first speech made in her name to parliament 
 she said that "nothing, do worldly thing under the sun, wa 
 ih-ai' to her as the love and goodwill of her subjects." And this 
 she had and deserved. 
 
 3. She was self-willed and arbitrary, like all her race ; she 
 could cow bishops and browbeat earls. " I will have hen: but 
 
 . and no master," she said. But while her will 
 always for the good of the nation, the nation's will went with 
 hers. If ever a time came that they clashed, which on certain 
 its they sometimes did, then Elizabeth knew how to give 
 way. And she would give way so frankly, SO generously 
 heartily that she made the people love her better than ever. If
 
 xuv.] THE TWO QUEENS. 4+7 
 
 they came before her full of anger and complaints and resent- 
 ment, they left her with tears of joy, and shouting, "God save 
 the queen." 
 
 4. The country was in a terrible state when she came to the 
 throne. It was thus described in an address to the council : 
 "The queen poor; the realm exhausted; the nobility poor and 
 deca] "I captains and soldiers wanting; the people out 
 ni' order; justice nut i 1; all things dear; . . . division 
 among ourselves ; war with France ; the French king bestriding 
 the realm, one foot in Calais, and the other in Scotland ; stead- 
 fast enemies, but no steadfast friends." 
 
 This v. Elizabeth found England ; how she left it wo 
 
 shall Bi 
 
 5. Everything depended on her ehoice of counsellors and 
 mini -id her h main point was truly marvel- 
 
 Perhapa i surrounded by 
 
 such a body • mien as Elizabeth gathered m i n ig t r er3 
 
 ind her, and kept around her to the end ; for 
 thou id capricious beyond all words in her 
 
 .' them, they were oobly faithful to her and to the 
 • n. These men she did not choose among the high ai 
 .'. Whether it was that she wished to carry on the policy of 
 tier, Henry VII., in humbling the nobles and bring- 
 . the middle < , or whether she really found more 
 
 ■ l and geni rning in that station, true it is that, 
 
 c minis! . I cil, Bacon, Walsingham, and oth 
 
 il sprung from the earth." This was rather 
 an i I way of putting it, however, sinci 
 
 n by bin h and breeding. 
 ■ ■ii Mary's husband, Philip of Spain, had bi en much 
 
 Id n a hear of making him 
 ir to his wife ; but he 
 his hold on the country ^p,',';!,!,"" 
 epit under 
 i l I irdly) left it. He took 
 
 K>d terms with Elizabeth, and tried to make her 
 I of his own. I te t hough! this 
 young and rienced, and 
 
 poor, weak, and fi 1 le, on t he other hand, 
 
 and up endom. 
 
 7. Bui with whom hi 1, and tnal i 
 
 untried queen and poor little i laud would baffle and defy him, 
 and triumph over him in : I at on I
 
 443 LECTURES ON ENGLISI1 HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 great many years, and its end, so glorious to England, even now 
 makes us thrill with pride and wonder. For tins present it was 
 carried on very quietly and cunningly on both sides. Elizabeth 
 was cautious and prudent; she did not openly quarrel with her 
 brother-in-law, but she just took her own way. The Spanish 
 ambassadors, who knew how weak she was, and how strong their 
 master was, were absolutely bewildered to see how little she 
 cared for his opinion and advice. Sometimes they thought she 
 was a mere blind, reckless fool ; at other times they thought she. 
 was possessed by the devil, or indeed by a hundred thousand 
 devils. 
 
 Philip, at one time, thought of marrying her ; not out of love, 
 but for the sake of getting a firmer hold on her and the country, 
 and, as he said, " maintaining that realm in the religion which by 
 God's help has been restored in it;" but she would not consent, 
 tuough for the present she wished to keep on fair terms with him. 
 8. The matter of her marriage was a most important one. She 
 was the last of her family, and it was a very grave question who 
 was to come after her if she died leaving no child. 
 The question ^.yi' tne COU ntry shuddered at the thought of a dis- 
 ° f Ehz *£ eth ' s puted succession. It would be worse now than even 
 in the old Hays of the Wars of the Roses, because of 
 the state of religion. There were two great religious parties, each 
 of whom had bitter reasons to hate the other. The true heir 
 after Elizabeth, according to the laws of inheritance, was the 
 young Queen of Scotland, who was descended from Henry VII.'s 
 eldest daughter. But there were strong objections to her as pos- 
 sible Queen of England. In the first place, she was married to 
 the Dauphin of France, and in all likelihood would be Queen of 
 France in due course ; then England might become a mere pro- 
 vince of France, as it had been feared it might become a province 
 of Spain when Mary married the Spanish king. Moreover, both 
 France and Scotland were, as usual, quarrelling and fighting with 
 England, and there was an old and deep antipathy between them 
 both and this country. 
 
 9. But worse than all this, she was a decided Romanist. Not 
 that, judging by her act imis, she was in the least religious at heart, 
 but tliat was the religion she professed and would favour and pro- 
 tect. This was enough to set all the Protestants against wishing 
 
 for her as queen. Everybody implored Elizabeth to marry s< ;- 
 
 body, and k<;pt on imploring the same in vain for the next twenty 
 years. She never would say No, and she never would say Yes. 
 This was her usual way in all matters. No one ever knew where 

 
 xi.iv.] THE TWO QUEENS. 449 
 
 to have her; she seemed to enjoy playing with everybody ; keep- 
 ing them mi the tenter-hooks, wondering, hoping, fearing ; whilst 
 all the time she would hold her own plans secret as long as she 
 chose. She had crowds of suitors — kings, dukes, archdukes; 
 Bometimes she appeared to favour one, and sometimes another, 
 but in the end she would have none of them. She was the 
 " Virgin Queen " to the last. 
 
 10. It is impossible quite to judge why she would not marry. 
 The only man she seems to have really loved was Robert Dudley, 
 Karl of Leicester, a fine, handsome, flattering courtier ; him she 
 favoured, and evidently liked so much that it was universally 
 believed and feared that she meant to marry him. But his cha- 
 racter was bad, and he had a wife already, who died in a very 
 mysterious way ; and though it could never be proved that he 
 had hex murdered to mike room for the queen, it looked very like 
 it. The Btory is told in Scott's novel of 'Kenilworth,' butthough 
 that tale gb rv vivid picture of bli/aheth, Leicester, &c, 
 and in that sense is perhaps poetically true, it is not historically 
 tiu>', and the real facts aboul Amy Robsart wen- quite different. 
 
 11. Oi u for Elizabeth's refusing to marry may very- 
 likely have been th.it there were those two stroug religious parties 
 in the kingdom, and she could not marry to please both. II' she 
 
 • a Protestant husband she offended the Catholics; if she 
 • l anil.- then .-lie offended the Protestants. She con- 
 trived in a most wonderful way all through her long reign to keep 
 both parties more or Less Loyal to her, ami would have ucceeded 
 Mill more fully had it not been for her dangerous rival, Mary, 
 1 ots. 
 
 12. Elizabeth herself was a Protestant, though, al any rate at 
 . not whit we Bhould call a very decided Prote tant, except 
 
 on the one grand point of the supremacy of the crown, and its 
 absolute independence of the Pope. She was as determined as 
 
 ever her father had 1 □ t . » he bead of the Church. I ait .she 
 
 rather approved of several things in He- Roman Catholic Church 
 to which thi b: al objected. She liked the celibacy of the 
 
 he Liked her own ; Bhe Liked crucifi 
 I ed < an.i, ,,,d an ornate service, by tin tine a 
 
 in iny of the Protestants bitterly objected to all I b 
 Because they sai 1 they wished for a purer service, 
 
 reme Prol I ml received the nil kn Tho Puritans. 
 
 Puritans. 
 
 L3. The rulea of the Church of England had been finned in 
 a largo and liberal Bpirit, allowing a good deal of Liberty in 
 
 o u
 
 450 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.i,t 
 
 matters like those, in order to make it easier for the people 
 to conform to it. It would naturally have been very difficult 
 for those who had been used all their lives to the splendid ser- 
 vices of Rome, to see everything of that sort taken away at once, 
 liven those who know how really unimportant such external mat- 
 ters are, and who have been taught from their infancy that " God 
 is a spirit," who seeks a spiritual worship, have their feelings on 
 very trivial points. A person who has been bred up in the Church 
 of England would not exactly like to see the clergyman read the 
 prayers in his every-day coat, or the communion-table a bare 
 board on trestles, as some of the Puritans began to desire. 
 
 14. Cranmer and Ridley had tried to adopt a sort of middle 
 course, which might please all, or not greatly displease many. 
 Nobody as yet could understand that differences of opinion on 
 such points were quite natural and quite harmless — even desir- 
 able. The one idea was that all the people of the land must have 
 exactly the same religion ; must all go to the same churches, say 
 the same prayers, and helieve the same doctrines. It was a very 
 long time before any one could see, how impossible it is, when 
 once people begin to think at all, that they should all think alike; 
 and how narrow and limited the thoughts of a nation would be 
 if they could do so. We know now how good it is for the whole 
 country that some see one side and some see another ; some love 
 one way and some another ; all these different opinions and feel- 
 ings being our way of trying to arrive at the truth, which 
 is too great and too high fur any one poor mortal to grasp 
 altogether. 
 
 l."». As yet no one could realize this; except sometimes the 
 party which happened to be down, and which then, being 
 oppressed, could see very clearly the beauty of toleration and 
 charity, hut forgot it again when the wheel turned round and 
 broughl them to the top. Elizabeth ami her counsellors were 
 
 determined all the ] pie in the country should go to church and 
 
 use the prayer-boot ; they made that as easy as they could for 
 fchem ; but those who would not conform, whether Romanists or 
 Puritans, were persecuted with great impartiality. Though this 
 very tyrannical, still they did not persecute at all as Mary 
 and Iionner had done, for Elizabeth was not cruel by nature, and 
 her prime minister, Burleigh (or Cecil), was always in favour of 
 moderation. But theProt< tan! bishops and archbishops, Parker, 
 Whitgift, and others, were as arbitrary and inquisitorial as any 
 Pope or Dominican could be. The Puritan clergy were deprived 
 »f their livings, sent to prison for holding private religious meet-
 
 xt.iv.] THE TWO QUEENS. 451 
 
 -. and oppressed in a great many "ways, but they were not 
 burnt to death. 
 
 16. The Romanists, however, were looked on as far more dan- 
 gerous than the Puritans ; and the excited feeling between the 
 two religious parties was kept at a fever pitch by the 
 
 events which occurred abroad. In France, the . ^ oman - 
 
 IS IS 
 
 Romish party, headed by a cruel Italian woman, 
 Catherine de Medicis, the king's mother, had fallen upon the 
 unsuspecting Protestants and murdered them by tens of thousands. 
 The " Massacre of .St. Bartholomew," as it is railed, 1572 
 because it was begun <>n the morning of that saint's 
 day, Bpread from Paris to many other towns, and went on for 
 The Catlmlics exulted in their triumph. Philip 
 Spain laughed aloud for joy. The Pope ordered a solemn Te 
 i to be Bung, and went in state to thank God for the slaugh- 
 ter of II - children. But in England the news was received with 
 a Bhudder of horror, and when the French ambassador presented 
 himself in a propitiatory manner before the queen, he found her 
 and the whole court dressed in deep mourning, and was received 
 with BOrrowful and indignant silence. 
 
 17. A great many people in this reign, indeed, Buffered death, 
 ley .-aid, and perhaps thought, for their religion. Elizabeth 
 
 and her governmenl always said it was not for religion at all, but 
 for treason. I.' ligi m and politics were bo mixed together now 
 that it was not always easy to distinguish them, and there i 
 
 doubt thai many human < 'at holies Looked On it as a pioUS wmk 
 
 □ pire against the Protestant queen. The most notable of 
 all the •• was Mary, Queen of Scots, whose death is generally 
 looked on as the darkest Mot in Elizabeth's reign. 
 
 18. We have Been thai Mary was really the next heir to the 
 crown it' Elizabeth left uo child. But as me was a j 
 
 1 holic in bet own way, she would bave been very 
 distasteful to the Proti in England, even had g^aud 
 
 there been ooth I hi r. But th 
 
 Leal more. She bad been many years in France, and 
 
 lauphin her husband died she came back to Scotland 
 
 . her cha dready formed. Scotland had taken up the 
 
 i [nation -till m i ly than l.n [and bad done, and 
 
 the Scotch reformers, with Knox at their bead, were vehement 
 
 and Puri trict and stern. Mary wa aim teen ; 
 
 pleasure-loving, beautiful, andattra tive that hardly 
 
 any i. aear her through her whole life (except the 
 
 stern John Knox) without being i rated by her. 
 
 O L, 2
 
 452 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 But her character was self-indulgent and unprincipled. She con- 
 ducted herself so disgracefully in Scotland, being 
 charged at last with the murder of her second hus- 
 band, Darnley, and other horrible crimes, that, beautiful and fas- 
 cinating as she was, the Scotch nation rose in rage and horror, and 
 would Hi it have her for their queen any longer. 
 
 19. She fled to England, expecting that Elizabeth would take 
 
 her part; but the English government made her prisoner, and 
 
 would not give her up. She was kept in England for nineteen 
 
 years, beino; considered too dangerous to be let loose. 
 1 568 
 
 But she was still more dangerous as a prisoner than 
 
 she could have been free. The Roman Catholics of England seem 
 
 to have forgotten or disbelieved the crimes laid to her charge, 
 
 and to have regarded her as a beautiful, persecuted saint. She 
 
 had friends abroad too, in France and in Spain. They all spent 
 
 their lives in weaving plots for rescuing her, dethron- 
 
 The Romish • Elizabeth, and making her Queen of England. 
 Blots 
 
 The Pope himself, Gregory XIII., gave his sanction 
 
 to the murder of Elizabeth. To such a pass had religion and 
 
 religious hatred now come. 
 
 20. Priests and Jesuits travelled all about the country in vari- 
 ous disguises, to stir up the Roman Catholic gentry and others 
 against the queen. One of them, Ballard, went about dressed as 
 an officer, in a blue velvet jerkin, and a cap and feathers. Every- 
 body was kept in a ferment. The Queen of Scots and her attend- 
 ants were very clever. They knew that any letters they sent 
 openly would be intercepted and read by the government, but 
 they found means to send out and to receive plenty of dangerous 
 letters secretly. If a box of clothes or of books was sent to them 
 from London or Paris, there would come letters inclosed in tin; 
 frames of the boxes or hidden under the lining. Sometimes a 
 small roll of paper would be sewn into the hollowed heel of anew 
 boot or shoe. Sometimes a set of white handkerchiefs would be 
 written all over with invisible ink. 
 
 21. .More than one rebellion broke out and was put down. 
 Elizabeth's lite' was felt to be in such danger that a voluntary 
 association of loyal men joined themselves to protect her, vowing 
 that they would have the life of any one who should attempt the 
 death of their queen. At last one more plot was made for 
 
 assassinating Elizabeth and rescuing Mary. Eliza- 
 
 Babmgton's ^th had been very confiding to the Romanist gentry, 
 
 hoping to win their fidelity and affection, and she
 
 xliv.] THE TWO QUEENS. 4.33 
 
 had many young Catholic gentlemen in her service and at court. 
 Six of these, headed by one Babington, pledged themselves to 
 murder their mistress. The letters to and from Mary, who was 
 now imprisoned in Fotheringay Castle, in Northamptonshire, were 
 carried in barrels of beer with false bottoms. Elizabeth and her 
 secretary Wabinghara knew all about it, for the brewer was a 
 double traitor, ami showed all the letters before delivering them. 
 
 ■I'l. Elizabeth had the courage to wait and give no sign till 
 the right moment came. When sufficient evidence had been col- 
 
 ed the con-] urators were seized and tried. They confessed all. 
 Mary declared to the last that she knew nothing about it; and 
 it is certainly true that the letters were not in her own hand- 
 writing; but if ever anything was clearly proved in this world, 
 it was proved almost beyond a doubt that she did know and 
 approve of all. 
 
 23. The Protestant part of the country had long demandedher 
 death, knowing thai there would be no safety as long as she 
 lived. Elizabeth bad never yet brought herself to consent ; she 
 neither cruel not a coward, and she wished to spare Mary's 
 life; bul now, at last, it was too late. Bahington's conspiracy, so 
 deep-laid, and so basely treacherous, could not be passed over. 
 Mary was tried, found guilty, and condemned; she braved it out 
 to the last that she was Innocent in the fact; <.f all the evidence, and 
 contrived to make it seem that she was a martyr to 
 her religion. She died very bravely and majestically, _ '. 
 though there can bardly be a doubt that she died of Marv 
 wit li a lie in her righl band. 
 
 Elizabeth had been almost driven into signing her death war- 
 rant; still she bad done bo. Now thai all was over. Bhe turned 
 in i very paltry way upon her ministers, and laid it upon them, 
 i be very indignant at what they had done. Her 
 Davison she punished very Beverely, and never took 
 into favour again, h. a way were the elemenl of 
 
 hur and meanness mingled in her character. 
 
 2 \. As soon as Mary wai dead, the nexl beir to the throne was 
 
 I • ' , the King of Scotland ; but as he, unlike his mother, 
 
 a Protestant, the Roman Catholics both in England and 
 
 at 'load had no wish to see him king. Philip of Spain now once 
 
 iw an opportunity ol n hie old claim.-, to be King 
 
 of England bimself. 
 
 25. lb' was at tin- time engaged in a war with his Proti 
 ant subjects in the I . I tuntries, to whom he and the Duke of
 
 45 i LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 .... f Alva, and the Inquisition, had been so intolerably 
 
 Spain P pre- cruel tnat ^ey ^ad risen in revo ^- '^ey looked to 
 pares to the English Protestants for help. Elizabeth did help 
 invade them a little, hut in so half-hearted, insincere, and 
 England, niggardly a way that she drove them and her own 
 ministers to despair. Her treatment of these brave 
 people is a far darker blot on her name than the execution of 
 Mary Stuart. Nevertheless, as she did to a certain extent sup- 
 port them, Philip determined to invade England. The long 
 rivalry between him and Elizabeth came to a crisis ; and in the 
 struggle the whole world saw at last what Englishmen were made 
 of ; for it was in truth " not by might, not by power," but by 
 their gallant spirit that the proud foe was kept off our shores. 
 
 26. Philip had a fine army, headed by a splendid general, the 
 Prince of Parma, already assembled in the Low Countries. This 
 army was to come to England and conquer the country ; but as 
 they had only fiat-bottomed boats and barges, which could not 
 fight, to transport them, it was necessary that a fleet of men-of- 
 war should come and protect them against the English sailors. 
 Philip began to prepare his fleet, which was the proudest and 
 finest the world had ever seen.
 
 XL v.] GLORIANA. 455 
 
 LECTURE XLV.— GLORIANA. 
 
 The Spanish Armada. The English fleet. The English sailors. The 
 conflict. England's triumph. Literature. Shakespeare and the 
 theatre. Death of Elizabeth. 
 
 1. Tin-: Invincible Armada, as Philip's fleet was proudly named, 
 consisted of 130 Bhips, sixty-five of which were railed galleons, 
 and looked like floating castles, they were so tall and 
 strong; fonr of them more gigantic still were called e fl e ^ nlS 
 
 They were provided with 2500 can- 
 non, and vast Btores of provisions \ they were commanded by 
 all the besl nival officers of Spain, and contained also great 
 numbers of the young nobility, who looked on the invasion of 
 heretic England as a holy war. a sort of Crusade. But all this 
 how had a canker hid in its heart. Down below the decks 
 were more than 2000 miserable slaves, chained to their cars, 
 working with no heart, no courage, under the eye. of a ruthless 
 master, armed with a terrible whip of bull's hide. 
 
 2. When the English knew that the King of Spain was com- 
 ing to invade their country, to drive away their queen and make 
 himself king, their hearts all rose as the heart of one 
 man. The government appealed first to the Lord 
 Mayor of London. They »nt to inquire of him what force the 
 city would furnish in defence of the kingdom. The mayor and 
 common council, in return, desired to know what force the 
 queen's Highness wished them to furni h. The answer wa 
 fifteen Bhips and 5000 men. Two days after, the Londoner* 
 "humbly entreated the council, in Bign of their perfect love 
 
 and loyalty to prinee au<l country, to accept 10,000 men and 
 
 thirty ships amply furnished." The Catholics were as loyal i 
 the Protestants \ thi bheirdivi ions now, and only remem 
 
 bered they v . i. Engli hmen. 
 
 •">. Still the English Beet was but a small one; the queen's 
 
 navy consisted of only thirty .ships; about fifty others, many of
 
 45G LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 them belonging to private individuals, joined the 
 hshfleft a,lluira1 ' L " r ' 1 Howard, of Effingham, at Plymouth 
 
 Harbour. These ships were very different from the 
 stately Spanish vessels. Far the greater number of them were 
 about the size of yachts ; there were only four large ships, and 
 those wore hardly as large as the smallest of the galleons. 
 
 4. But who had they got on board 1 The most splendid, the 
 boldest, the mo;t brilliant sailors that ever sailed the sea. Tbe 
 English sailors at this time were the wonder of the world. They 
 were everywhere : up in the frozen ocean of the North, trying to 
 find a way to India in that direction; down in the dangerous 
 straits by Terra del Fuego ; out on the great Pacific Ocean, 
 bringing home wonderful stories of their adventures ; strange 
 new plants and birds; great stores of gold which they took 
 from the Spanish ships ; above all, a spirit of daring and enter- 
 prise which would fear nothing and nobody. The most famous 
 of them all was Sir Francis Drake, who had really done what 
 Columbus hoped to do, pailed all round the world. The Span- 
 iards knew his name well, lie had already done things which 
 would have seemed mad if they bad not succeeded. They came 
 to think he was a devil, and no man. He was there, too, with a 
 crew of little ships which were all devoted to him. 
 
 5. The English army was set in reuliness also, to dispute 
 
 every inch of ground, in case the invaders should succeed in 
 
 landing. A strong camp was formed at Tilbury to 
 
 The queen protect the capital, and thither went Elizabeth, to 
 
 _., encourage and cheer her soldiers. All that was 
 
 the army. , , 6 , . . , ... 
 
 noble and queenly in her rose to this emergency. 
 
 She was warned by some of her counsellors to beware of 
 treachery. But "no," said the queen, "I do not desire to live 
 to mistrust my faithful and loving people. Let tyrants fear; I 
 have always so behaved myself that, under Clod, I have placed 
 my chiefest strength and safeguard in the loyal hearts and good- 
 will of my subjects." She knew she had but the body of a 
 woman. " Hut," said she, " I have the heart of a king, and of a 
 King of England too, and think foul scorn that Parma, or Spain, 
 or any prince of Europe should dare to invade the borders of 
 my realms." 
 
 6. The soldiers would have shed the last drop of their blood 
 
 for such a queen ; but they were never called to fight at all. 
 
 Not one Spaniard set foot on English ground but as a prisoner. 
 
 The conflict between the two fleets reminds one of 
 
 The oonflict. L)avid and ( ; (jli . ltlli T he great towering ships must
 
 xlv.] GLORIAS A. 457 
 
 at first have despised the little ones. They had to sail all up 
 the Channel till they came to Dunkirk, where Parma's army 
 •was waiting for them. The little English fleet, which was lying 
 in the harbour of Plymouth, let them pass, and then came out 
 after them. The Spanish admiral wanted to close upon the 
 bring t ln-iii to a definite engagement and crush them. 
 Put the Englishmen knew better. The greal ships moved slowly 
 ainl clumsily, nor did they know their way very well; they 
 could ;_ r ''t U" pilots in England, of course, and the Dutch pilots, 
 who were well acquainted with the Channel, were Protestants, 
 and would nol come. The little English ships moved so lightly 
 and were so cleverly bandied that they Beemed as if they were 
 alive. A Spaniard said that "the swiftest ships in the Armada 
 seemed to beat anchor" in comparison with the dashing English 
 • Is. It. was just the same with the cannon. The English 
 tired four shots to the Spaniards' one ; and their shot were well 
 aimed and took effect, while the Spanish flew wildly up in the. 
 air. or down in the sea, doing no harm. 
 
 7. The Spaniards began to be afraid ; they had never 3een any- 
 thing like it. They tried hard to close and grapple, but they 
 never could catch the English. So they wenl up the Channel 
 nh Dover, the English behind harassing and tormenting 
 them. As they wenl on, the young English lords and gentle- 
 men, Catholics as well as ProtestantSj came streaming out from 
 v port, in any boal they could get hold of, to join the Eng- 
 lish Beet. From Lyme and Weymouth, from Poole ami the 
 
 1 , of Wight they came, ever more ami mOre. Thi- Spanish 
 admiral one evening could count LOO sail behind him, and 
 
 though! the number was .-till increasing. 
 
 At Lasl tie- Spaniards reached Calais; by this time there 
 were 140 English ••■ At nighl Eoward fin hips 
 
 among them, which terrified and confounded them still more. 
 They tried to move on, and the Engli h pui ued them. The 
 v. from eight in the morning until sunset, the Ed li b 
 poured their shot upon the Spanish vessels Like rain. 
 
 9. In tin- terrible week three greal galleons bad been sunk, 
 and three more disabl d ; 1000 mi a had been killed ; tie 
 were cowed and disheartened. What was to be donel The 
 Spaniards gave up all thought of invading England, of joining 
 Parma's army; all they could think of was how to get lurk 
 to Spain. 
 
 In. There was do going back; the dreadful little English 
 fleet was .-till behind them, foil. .win.; them Like a shadow, All
 
 458 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 they could determine on was to go forward, sail round the 
 Orkneys and west of Ireland, and reach Spain in that way. 
 But very, very few of them ever got hack to Spain. If the 
 Queen of England had not been incredibly mean and niggardly, 
 Howard and Drake would have followed them till they were all 
 destroyed or captured; but Elizabeth kept them so short of 
 powder and shot, and so short of food, that when they had 
 pursued them as far as the Forth they had to turn back and 
 leave them. 
 
 11. But now they had a worse enemy than even the English 
 to confront. When they arrived in those northern latitudes, 
 terrible storms overtook them. The great ships 
 The end. con i^ l, ar Jly m ake their way ; they were separated 
 from one another by fogs ; they scarcely knew where they were. 
 The sailors were falling sick and dying by hundreds from cold 
 and misery. When they came on the coast of Ireland, which is 
 frightfully dangerous and rocky, it was still worse. Their sup- 
 ply of water was nearly all gone. If they attempted to land, 
 even to get fresh water, the savage Irish set on them and 
 butchered them without mercy. It is horrible to read of their 
 misery. At last, in September and October, a few wretched 
 shattered ships began to appear on the coast of Spain. Day 
 after day they came dropping in, laden with sick and dying 
 men. Fifty-four in all came home ; and so ended the great 
 Spanish Armada, and the long rivalry between Philip and 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 T2. The joy and thankfulness of the English nation knew no 
 bounds. The queen went in state to St. Paul's to return thanks 
 for the great deliverance, with the flags of the con- 
 England s q Uere( j enem y borne, in triumph before her. The 
 Protestants abroad shared in the joy of England. 
 The dreadful power, the awful weight of Philip and Spain, 
 which had so long impended over them was gone for ever. The 
 brave little provinces of the Netherlands, which had held out 
 so long, but which it seems must have been overmatched and 
 crushed at last, were free; for England, the mainstay of their 
 cause, was free. More than free ; she was now, what she has 
 been ever since, the mistress of the seas. Well might Spenser 
 say that 
 
 " Albion the Bonne of Neptune; was." 
 
 She could carry her commerce and plant her colonies wherever 
 she pleased, in the Old World or the New. She felt her power,
 
 xi.v.] GLORIAXA. 459 
 
 and her spirit and confidence rose gloriously. She thought "the 
 Lord had fought for her.'' 
 
 Never was Lady so praised, so honoured, so worshipped as 
 Elizabeth. 
 
 " All princely graces 
 That mould up Buch a mighty piece as tliis is, 
 With all the virtues that attend the good, 
 Shall still he doubled on her; truth shall nurse her, 
 Eoly and heavenly thoughts still counsel her. 
 • •••••• 
 
 In her days, every man shall eat in safetv 
 Under his own vine what he plants, and sing 
 'l'h'' merry songs of peace to all his neighbours : 
 
 i -hail 1m- truly known, ami those about her 
 From her shall read the perfect ways of honour." 
 
 So wrote Shakespeare ; and Spenser — 
 
 " Fairer and nobler liveth none this hour, 
 Ne like ill grace, ne like in learned skill ; 
 '1 h< r< la'- they Glorian call that glorious flower ; 
 Long mayst thou, Glorian, live in glory and great power ! " 
 
 If we must call this flattery, surely it was flattery that any 
 
 queen, any woman, might be proud of. 
 
 13. Full "1 patriotism, of triumph, of noble joy, this was tin; 
 
 time when England's most glorious literature came into life. 
 
 Now were written the hunks she is proudest of in 
 
 all her history. In the " golden days of good Queen Literatur e- 
 
 B " there were chroniclers, and travellers, and divines, all 
 
 : t'> tell what they had read, and Been, and thought ; above 
 
 all, there were poets who read ami saw an. I thought also, but 
 
 who, by the glow of their own hearts, fell a life ami bou! in 
 
 . a tender ami awful beauty in nature, a vastness and 
 
 in the heari ami fat'' of in in, and in his relations to his 
 
 Make,- which enlarged the spiritual world in which we dwell 
 
 more than ever Columbus had enlarged the natural one. 
 
 1 I. To know what the poet, of Elizabeth's age did foi En I rad 
 
 and for the world, wemu i read the books they wrote. Every one 
 
 their name,, Shake peare, ami Spen er, ami Sydney ; but 
 
 who knows much of what they 'li'l and thought 1 There are 
 
 others ton whose names are not bo famous, hut. who took their 
 
 1 'i. Marlowe, Drayton, and many others; tor tins 
 
 wonderful - activity wen! on ail through Elizabeth's 
 
 ii. It was wine- he was queen that, the t i i- t public theatre 
 
 opened. Little by little the old r> li-iou , pis 
 
 the, m and Miracles, which hel Keen bo _, ,' ' 
 
 i • ,, ■ , ,, ., i. The theatre. 
 
 Jar in tne middle ages, gave way to the tragedies
 
 4R0 
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. 
 
 [lECT. 
 
 and comedies of real life, and most people would now be shocked 
 and pained to see sacred subjects brought upon the stage. There is 
 still a lingering remnant of the old religions drama in what is now 
 almost the least serious or instructive of all onr exhibitions, the 
 Christmas Pantomime, The ridiculous Pantaloon and Harlequin 
 which delight the children's eyes are descended from the Devil 
 and the Vice, who took parts, and generally grotesque or comic 
 parts, in the old mysteries. 
 
 15. The early theatres were very different from ours; there 
 was no gaslight, no fine shifting scenery, no pictured back- 
 grounds. The curtain was a blanket stretched across the front. 
 When the scene changed a board was hung out to say, This 
 is London, or This is Rome, or Bohemia, or France. A great 
 deal was left to the imagination of the spectators and the good 
 acting of the performers. (Shakespeare himself, it is said, was 
 not a good actor; his best part was the Ghost in Hamlet.) 
 
 16. The queen was fond of theatrical representations. When- 
 ever she went to visit a nobleman, or a city, or a university, 
 there would be a play or a pageant to welcome her. Sometimes 
 it would be what is called a masque, where beautiful music, 
 singing, and dancing were added to the acting. But the glory 
 
 and crown of all were the plays of Shakespeare, and 
 Shakespeare. iu them hoth Elisabeth and her people delighted. 
 
 Every one could find in them something which would suit the 
 fashion of his mind, and raise it to its highest strain. There was 
 a great deal about the history and glory of England which every- 
 body liked. There were, lovely ladies and gallant heroes, there 
 were philosophers and deep thinkers, there were priests and 
 hermits, rogues and clowns, there were dainty fairies and awful 
 ghosts, there were fun and wit, joy and love, there were sorrow, 
 pity, and despair. All of the very highest, and deepest, and 
 truest. Was it not really a new world, of which he held the 
 
 golden key ? 
 
 17. With all this activity of the intellect and imagination, 
 practical work was not forgotten. It was in the latter part of 
 
 Elizabeth's reign that a serious attempt was made to 
 _ ^ e improve the condition of the poor. It has been 
 
 already remarked that the breaking up of the monas- 
 teries had cut off a great deal of the charity and assistance on 
 Avhich they had been used to depend. Not only were a great 
 many idle people now driven to beg or steal if they would not 
 work, but many poor, and sick, and aged, to whom the monks 
 and nuns had been kind, were left comfortless. Elizabeth's
 
 Xiv.] GLORIANA. 461 
 
 ministers, whilst they were very severe upon the vagabonds, even 
 putting them to death in great numbers, did their best to help 
 and protect the unfortunate. It was they who first introduced 
 a "poor rate.'' something like the one which we have now; and 
 which, whatever faults it may have, does succour the widow, the 
 orphan, the sick, and the infirm in the troubles which must 
 otherwise quite overwhelm them. 
 
 18. The defeat <if the Armada was the highest point of 
 Elizabeths glory. Her later years were saddened and lonely. 
 Her great favourite, the Marl of Leicester, the only man whom 
 perhaps she really loved, died in the midst of the rejoicings. 
 Though Bhe was now growing old, she soon after 
 
 made another favourite of the young Earl of Essex. f t, 
 I x was accomplished, high-spirited, and warm- 
 hearted ; he had a ran; gift of winning love and admiration. 
 Spenser, to whom he was a generous friend, calls him the " faire 
 
 h of Honour, Flower of Chi valrie." Elizabeth ever loved 
 what was gracious, gay, and gallant; bul her partiality for the 
 chivalroiui young ear] did him harm rather than good. He was 
 placed in positions far above bis abilities, and requiring qualities 
 which he did not posse — caution, patience, and resolution. 
 He it as Lord Lieutenant to [reland, where ., qq 
 
 people were again rebelling, and where a wise, 
 and firm ralex was much needed. I . 
 
 try, and the world's wide wonder," 
 
 neither wi e nor linn; he did not know what to do, and 
 ! ag made an inglorious and uselec peace, he returned home. 
 Here he behaved bo foolishly and imprudently that he was 
 I with high trea on, found guilty, and be- 
 led. Klizabetib never oould rally from this i hock. 
 8he was aim renty years old; she bad no near relations; 
 
 hex old counsellors and minute . i faithful, wise, and patient, 
 all di e wa quite Lonely and forlorn, she grew 
 
 moody and suspicious, and hex heart. lid, "was sad and 
 
 I 
 
 19. When Bhe wa they tried to induce her to say who 
 should succeed her. She made some indistincl ign, which they 
 thought meant James of Scotland. The Archbi bop 
 
 "t Canterbury, kneeling by hex Bide, aid soma p. 160 , 3 ' # 
 piayers which seemed to bring hei oomforr., and o Elizabeth 
 died tl, r,f the Tudoi , t be q leeo oi v. horn 
 
 England had been bo proud.
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 LECTURE XLVI.-JAMES OF SCOTLAND. 
 
 The Stuarts. The divine right of kings. James and the Church of 
 England. The Puritans and the Romanists. The pilgrim fathers. 
 Gunpowder Treason. 
 
 Scotch king was seated on the sacred stone, and crowned King 
 
 of England at West minster. After all the fighting 
 1603 i 
 
 ■ and discord of so many hundred years, we may say 
 that Edward I.'s will was accomplished, and one 
 man was king over the whole island; and yet, too, Bruce's will 
 ■was satisfied, for Scotland was free and unconquered still. She 
 indeed gave the king to all. Had lint the king she gave been 
 at all like Bruce, or like Edward ! But the new monarch was no 
 very kingly man, and the House of Stuart was the most unfor- 
 tunate and the most unbearable of all the different royal lines 
 which England ever had. There is indeed a sort of romance 
 about some of them, which makes their history fascinating; but 
 there was nothing of the sort about James I. 
 
 2. The descriptions one reads of him are more ridiculous than 
 romantic. " Mature and education," writes Macaulay, " had 
 done their best to produce a finished specimen of all that a king 
 ought not to be." Then he tells of "his awkward iigure, his 
 rolling eye, his rickety walk, his nervous tremblings. . . . The 
 most ridiculous weaknesses seemed to meet in this wretched 
 Solomon of Whitehall ; pedantry, buffoonery, garrulity, low 
 curiosity, the most contemptible personal cowardice." One can 
 li irdly believe this was the son of the beautiful and enchanting 
 Mary. 
 
 3. James certainly had a respectable amount of talent and 
 intelligence, but he had no dignity, no majesty either of character 
 or demeanour. Though he was particularly fond of theological 
 studies, and even wrote some books on those subjects; though 
 he had a new edition, and in part a new translation of the 
 English Bible published, and is very highly complimented in the 
 preface as being " a most tender and loving nursing father to the
 
 xt.vi.] JAMES OF SCOTLAND. 463 
 
 Church," yet his private life was very immoral, and his court 
 was utterly disgraceful. Some of the best poets of his time, 
 who could write very beautifully, yet, when they imitated the 
 manners and talk of James's courtiers, produced plays which are 
 so shameless and coarse and base that it would be a disgrace to 
 look at them. 
 
 4. He and all the Stuarts had as much love of arbitrary 
 rnmenl as the Tudors, but they had nut what the Tudors 
 had, tin- gift of seeing and understanding when they might have 
 their own way and when they must yield. When the masterful 
 Elizabeth saw that her will clashed with the will of the nation, 
 .sip- could lie wise and give in; but the Stuarts never did or 
 could see that. It wis in their time that the jna struggle 
 came, and one.- and for ever it. was shown to all kings and to 
 all people thai England was a free country, whose kings must 
 ml'- according t" the laws and the will of the people, or they 
 should not rule at all. It was a hard struggle, and cost one of 
 the Stuarts hia life and another bis throne, but it was fought to 
 tie' end, and will never have to he fought again. 
 
 :. .! m 1.. though he was borne with, and died peaceably, 
 
 king both <>f England and Scotland, began the contest, little 
 
 big wh.it. he was doing, lie was a strict Protestant, for, 
 
 having been I from bis mother all bis life, he had been 
 
 brought up by tie- Scotch Reformers. The Scotch had gone a 
 
 • deal farther in their reformation than the English had 
 
 done. They hated thin which the ( Ihurch of 
 
 I land approved, such a for the clergymen to wear a white 
 
 Burplice, or to make the B'gn of the cross in bapti m ; they dis- 
 
 ! I, the wle.le English Liturgy. But most of all thuy 
 
 ted to bishops and archbishops \ they believed that the 
 
 Chm aly t" b aed by presbyters, or prfe i . and 
 
 that all hi hops were unlawful. The greater pari of the Scotch 
 
 de hold tie' same opinion now, and the Established Church 
 
 ■ a I net i > called the Pr< berian b can e they have no 
 
 bishops, but only presbyters. Tie' word "presbyter" i^ taken 
 
 from a ( rreek word mi aning " eld ir," an. I our word " prie c " is 
 
 only ned down. 
 
 6. When J to Engl ind, he al on 
 
 If he irl ily to th I Lia i I ch, and I he bi hop i 
 
 • him. The ( Ihurch of Eng- 
 land had alread o to alter a good deal from {jj^jjj 
 what Cranmer and Ridley had left it ; and though f£ U giand. 
 th"y had not drawn nearer 1 1 Rome, for they v,
 
 4fU LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [racr. 
 
 as Btrongly set against the Pope as ever, they had to a certain 
 extent returned towards some of the Romish doctrines. 
 
 Instead of thinking, like the Presbyterians, that it was picked 
 to have any bishops, they considered that no Church could be a 
 Church at all without bishops. They believed that mystical and 
 supernatural powers had descended to them from the apostles, 
 and that no clergyman was properly a clergyman who had not 
 been ordained by the laying on of their hands. They fell back 
 a little, too, to favouring the celibacy of the clergy ; they did all 
 they could to make the Church service more ornamental, by 
 handsome vestments, painted windows, and other decorations. 
 Thus they and the Puritans drew farther and farther apart. The 
 same parties still continue to exist in England. There are the 
 High Church, or Ritualists ; there are the Low Church, who are 
 ■ like what the Puritans used to be ; and there are various 
 bodies of Dissenters or Nonconformists, who are also like them 
 in some ways. But now they can all live side by side very 
 peaceably, instead of wishing to cut oil' each others' ears or 
 heads, as they did then. 
 
 7. The king and the Church were very closely bound together. 
 The Church began to hold and teach the doctrine of the divine 
 
 right of kings, which it is said James I. invented. 
 
 The divine They said that whatever sort of man a king might be, 
 
 right ot ] lowe ver he governed or misgoverned, if he were the 
 
 true and lawful heiv by right of his birth, being the 
 eldest son, or descended from the eldest son, of the last king, he 
 was appointed by God king of the land, and no Christian might 
 oppose him or depose him. This doctrine is evidently quite 
 contrary to the whole history of England, in the entire course of 
 which no king was crowned till he had sworn to obey the laws, 
 to govern justly, and protect the rights and liberty of his sub- 
 jects. If he broke his vow he was either brought to reason, and 
 compelled to amend, or he was got rid of in one way or another. 
 Nor is this doctrine to be found in the Bible. As Macaulay 
 points out, we should perhaps judge from that that younger sons, 
 nol elder ones, were the favourites of Heaven. Jacob was not 
 the eldest son of Isaac, nor Judah of Jacob, nor David of Jesse, 
 nor Solomon of David. 
 
 8. This dort line, however, became the favourite doctrine of the 
 II gh Church party, and the kings, on their part, favoured and 
 
 protected the Church and the bishops with all their 
 
 Treatment power. And between them they dealt with the 
 
 of the puritans in a very high-handed way. We have a 
 
 specimen in the answer James gave to some rem on-
 
 xlvi] JAMES OF SCOTLAND. 465 
 
 s trance about the use of the surplice, and the signing of the cross 
 in baptism. "If, after the gospel's preaching forty-five years 
 among you, there beany yet unsatisfied, I doubt it proceeds rather 
 out of stubbornness of opinion than out of tenderness of con- 
 pcience, and therefore lei them conform themselves, or else they 
 shall hear farther of it." Bearing farther of it generally meant 
 lines and imprisonment. 
 
 '.». The Puritans being greatly oppressed, and nol even allowed 
 to meel quietly for prayer and preaching in private houses, began 
 to think of Leaving the country altogether. They casl their eves 
 across the sea By tins time a great many Englishmen had been 
 to America, and had perceived how excellent a land it would be 
 for English colonists. The English sailors were always bringing 
 borne wonderful of the Indies, as they were still called. 
 
 The Puritans resolved to seek liberty there; and though the 
 government strove to prevent their leaving the country, some of 
 the most resolute amonj. them sailed away over the 
 Atlantic in a lit el called the May-flower. They 162 °- 
 
 gave up the native land which they dearly Loved, pathe?"™ 
 their homes, their friends, all that thej had, and they 
 landed on a wild, rough, de olatecoastof North America, seeking 
 what was dearer to them than any earthly thing, " freedom to 
 worship God." They named their adopted country "New 
 England," with a loving thought of the old England they had 
 left behind. Thi re men, He' " Pilgrim Fath i we call 
 
 them, were the founders of the great American nation. More, 
 aiel mop- followed th sm, as they could, looking on America as a 
 of promised land. The government, which would give them 
 no peace while they Btayed in England, always opposed their 
 In tie next reign, when a party id' Puritans were 
 • ly t" folio, v their brethren, the government Interfered, 
 and entirely prevented their departure. Among this party were 
 I'ym, Hampden, and Oliver Cromwell, and, a, Hume drily 
 remarks, "the king had full leisure afterwards to repent this 
 of hi- aut bority." 
 
 I"- f the most enterprising of the travellei whobrou 
 
 home tale from America was sir Walter R hi, a gallant and 
 chivalrous man, who had been a great favourite with 
 
 n Elizatoth. and bad named one of the new "JJ^JJ" 
 found Btatee M Vh in ber honour. Bi ide his R eig 
 
 storii (venture, he brought to England what has proved far 
 
 n useful and valuable than all the gold of Mexico, the potato, 
 
 which help ely now in the food of rich and j p. ||<- 
 
 n ii
 
 4G6 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 also introduced a more questionable novelty — tobacco (" divine 
 tobacco " his friend Spenser calls it) ; anil the story is well-known 
 of how his servant, for the first time seeing his master smoking, 
 threw a bucket of water over him, supposing him to be on fire. 
 James I. thought the smoking of tobacco a detestable custom, and 
 wrote a book against it, but he could not prevent the new luxury 
 from becoming very popular. James was very cruel and unjust 
 to Sir Walter Raleigh ; he imprisoned him on a supposed charge 
 of treason, and kept him for many years in the Tower, where 
 Raleigh beguiled his time in writing, or beginning to write, 'The 
 History of the "World.' Prince Henry, James's eldest son, who 
 had more sympathy and a gentler mind than his father, felt great 
 shame at Raleigh's treatment, and wondered how his 
 
 1 fil 7 
 
 father " could keep such a bird in such a cage." 
 Raleigh at last ended his life on the seallbld, grieved and lamented 
 over by every one. 
 
 1 1. James, having become what we may call an English High 
 Churchman, was not content with persecuting the Puritans. He 
 
 was just as rigorous with the Roman Catholics. They 
 The i^t°s man " P erna P s toped that, as they had always sided with 
 
 his mother Mary, he would be more indulgent to them 
 than Elizabeth had been, but they found themselves quite mis- 
 taken. And it must have made a deep impression on the minds 
 of the people of England to observe the contrast between them 
 and the Puritans in their way of meeting the hard treatment of 
 the government. The Puritans attempted to go quietly away ; 
 the Catholics made plots and conspiracies. They had already been 
 quite accustomed to this mode of action during the days of Eliza- 
 beth, and had been encouraged in it by Pope and priests. Now 
 they began again. It was early in the reign of James I. that the 
 most famous of all their plots, the " Gunpowder Treason," was 
 devised. 
 
 12. It was a deep-laid plot, and was darkly brooding for 
 many months before it was discovered. The object was, as the 
 
 conspirators hoped, to get rid of all their enemies at 
 1604 - one stroke, by blowing up the House of Parliament 
 
 Plot ef ou l ' ic L ^' * ts asseluun "o- The king would be 
 there in state to open the session; with him would 
 lie his eldest son, Prince Henry. They and all the lords, the 
 bishops, and the commons would be destroyed at once ; one of 
 the younger princes should then be proclaimed king, and educated 
 as a Roman Catholic. The plot was very nearly brought to 
 perfection. The barrels of gunpowder were laid in readiness
 
 xlvi.] JAMES OF SCOTLAND. 467 
 
 under the Parliament House, hidden under piles of faggots. A 
 fearless and fanatical man stood ready to light the fatal train. 
 We seem to see him now in the low doorway, with his slow 
 matches, his tinder, and his dark lantern, just as he was seized 
 in the dead of night — the night before the appointed day. 
 
 13. The conspiracy had been discovered. One of the traitors, 
 a Northamptonshire gentleman named Tresliam, had felt some 
 relentings towards his brother-in-law, Lord Monteagle, who 
 would be sure to be in his place in t lie House of Lords, and 
 would perish with the rest. He wrote him a strange anonymous 
 letter, in a feigned hand, hinting at some terrible blow which 
 the parliament would receive, and warning him, as he tendered 
 his life, t ■ . keep away. This letter, being shown to the king and 
 his ministers, led to the discovery of the plot before it was too 
 < ruy Fawkes was seized in the cellar; the rest of the con- 
 Bpiratore were pursued, and either died in defending themselves, 
 or were taken, tried, and executed. 
 
 1 I. This Gunpowder Treason seemed to have something 
 specially demoniacal about it. The very darkness and mystery, 
 the terribleness of a sudden explosion which would ,nive no 
 warning before all was over, the awful cruelty of involvin 
 many innocent people in the punishment which was supposed 
 to be due to the guilty, ami its having so very nearly succeeded, 
 
 Struck the whole nation with horror, and remains still one of the 
 
 most vivid memories in the imagination of the people, still it 
 i.i only just to remark that eighty men at, most knew of its 
 exists nee, and it would he entirely wrong to lay it on the Roman 
 1 aeral, most of whom probably thought it quit 
 
 wic we do. 
 
 I • [1 well worth notice, however, that, the conspirators 
 believed tie t.. be • I in a noble and sacred work, 
 
 One of them, a gentleman of high character and unblemished 
 reputation, Sir Everard Digby, wrote to his wife, after Ins con 
 demnation: " Now for my intention j Let me tell you thai if I 
 had thought there had been the lea I Bin in the plol I would 
 have been in it fur all the world ; and no other cau e drew 
 He- !■> hazard my fortune and my life l"it zeal to God's religion." 
 itterly can religious bigotry blind the eyes of the soul and 
 deaden the, \ and humanity. 
 
 It is Baid that Digby and Boine of the other, notably Guy 
 Fawkes, died very penitently and devoutly. 
 
 n n -z
 
 468 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 LECTURE XLVIL— THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 
 
 The royal prerogative. The parliament. Charles I. The Cavaliers and 
 the Roundheads. StraffGrd and Laud. Ship-money. Hampden. 
 The Prayer-book in Scotland. 
 
 1. It was not only in religious matters that James showed his 
 
 arbitrary spirit, and alienated many of his people. He wished 
 
 to be supreme in all points, and to have the authority 
 
 ren/atfve ° f Henr - y VIIL "ithout having the character of 
 Henry VIII. The exact power which lawfully 
 belonged to the king was not at that time very clearly defined, 
 nor can it be said to be so now. The royal prerogative is a sort 
 of shadowy thing, which seems in theory to be very great, but 
 which in a country like ours shrinks up into almost nothing, 
 unless the sovereign and the nation are of one mind. The 
 Tudors had felt this by instinct, if they did not know it; but 
 the Stuarts neither felt it nor knew it. 
 
 2. Just about this period, in other countries as well as our 
 own, the monarchs became more despotic than they had ever 
 been yet ; in some of them the last traces of liberty disappeared. 
 The kings of Spain became utter tyrants. In France, too, the 
 
 mblies of the people ceased, and the king and nobles 
 did just as they pleased, without any check upon them. But 
 we in England were better off, because our parliament never 
 ■ to an end. 
 
 3. All through the reigns of the Tudors, it is true, the par- 
 liaments had been very meek and submissive, and had almost 
 
 always done what the king or queen told them ; 
 
 T he but still they were there. Outwardly they had all 
 
 p their old powers and rights, and neither king nor 
 
 n ever professed to act without their consent. Under the 
 Stuarts the parliaments quite left off being meek and sub- 
 
 ive ; they remembered their duties and their privileges, and 
 
 I up like men to defend them. They fell back on the right, 
 which their predecessors had exercised so manfully in days of
 
 xi.vii.] THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 4CD 
 
 old, and would give the king no money until he had redressed 
 r grievances. Then the king in his turn fell back on the 
 old plan of Edward IV., and tried to levy "benevolences." 
 He could not have done much by force, even if he had desired 
 it, because he had no army. Elizabeth's whole standing army 
 is said to have consisted of 100 beef-eaters, and James had no 
 chance of getting more. 
 
 1. Things went on very ill in many ways, .lames, like so 
 many other kings, made favourites, and favourites whom the 
 nation could not respect. The principal one was 
 George Villiers, who was afterwards made Duke of tL r e 
 Buckingham, but whom the king always called ingham. 
 ciie, because he thought him like a picture he 
 -'■"ii of the martyr Stephen. " Steenie " does not seem to 
 have had anything else at all saint-like about him, and his 
 principal recommendations were that he danced and dressed 
 beautifully. II" treated the king with the greatesl familiarity 
 and insolence, which seemed to please James, but disgusted the 
 
 nation. 
 
 5. Bui a far more Bad and shameful thing than the follies of a 
 • i it ier occurred during this reign — the disgrace of the 
 eminent man in the whole kingdom ; one of the 
 men indeed whom England hasev* r produced. -r 
 This wa I imous Lord Bacon, who was Lord 
 
 1 ncellox of England, hut whose great fame rests upon his 
 writings and his atudiee more than on his high position. He 
 
 : d long looked on as the father of modern science, though 
 
 me eminenl writers thai his work ha 
 been overrated. He carried on the ideas of his greal 
 
 old nam er I'.. icon, by teaching men to observe nature, 
 
 and to learn from her instead of busying thei with words 
 
 and |>lii . i ■ of tlieir own manufacl ure. 
 
 6 l • ' ; '- had grand thoughts and clothed them in noble 
 word certain, but that neither thoughts nor words could 
 help him to live a noble life is unfortunately as certain. No 
 one knew better than be what was the duty of a judge. Mo I 
 
 of In books were written in Latin, but i wa In Engli b, 
 
 a little book of . winch are fa]] of wise thoughts, very 
 
 ly expre led, aboul matters of i I and pracl ical inti i 
 
 They are about envy, truth, death, parents and children, mar- 
 life. One is aboul "judicature." It shows that 
 li ■ had refle ively on the responsibilities of a judge's office. 
 
 "The place of justice,' he wrote, "is an hallowed place; and
 
 470 LECTURES ON ENGLISn HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 therefore not only the bench, but the foot pace and precincts 
 thereof, ought to oe preserved without scandal and corruption." 
 " Judges should imitate God, in whose place they sit." Yet the 
 man who wrote this, the highest judge in the land, was charged 
 with taking bribes ! a hundred pounds from one ; 
 1620 ' three or four hundred pounds from another; was 
 found guilty, owned the justice of the charge with shame and 
 penitence, and was degraded from his high office by the king and 
 parliament. Truly " it is a good divine that follows his own 
 instructions." 
 
 Still in his case we seem to have quite reversed the saying 
 that " the evil that men do lives after them ; the good is oft 
 interred with their bones." And for the sake of his grand works 
 as a philosopher and a writer his name is held in honour, and 
 his faults and infirmities pardoned or forgotten. 
 
 7. James continued to go contrary to the wishes of his people 
 in most matters to the end of his reign. They earnestly desired 
 him to help the cause of the Protestants abroad. His own 
 daughter Elizabeth, who was so gracious and beautiful that she 
 was°called the Queen of Hearts, had married a Protestant German 
 prince, the Elector Palatine Frederic, who was afterwards elected 
 
 King of Bohemia. He was in great need of help and 
 1620 ' support; but though the country implored James to 
 take his part, he would not do so. 
 
 8. Worse than that, in the eyes of the English, he actually 
 wished to make friends with Spain. He seemed to forget all the 
 past,— all the cruelty of Philip, all the dread of the Armada, and 
 the triumph and deliverance of England, — and wished to marry 
 his son to a Spanish prineesa His eldest son. Henry, having 
 died very young, the second, Charles, became heir to the throne, 
 and it was proposed that he should take a Spanish wife. The 
 people writhed under the veryidea; hut that did uot seem of much 
 importance. Charles and the favourite Buckingham went off in 
 
 disguise to Spain, hut on their way thither, passing 
 through Paris, Charles saw a French princess who 
 attracted him. Nevertheless, he went on and saw the Spanish 
 princess also; he tricked and played with the- Spaniards, making 
 them believe that In- fully intended to marry her; but as soon 
 as he returned to England he broke off the match. 
 
 9. This insincerity and deceit did not promise very well for the 
 honour of the future King of England, but the people were so 
 delighted to be freed from the fear of a Spanish queen that 
 they were inclined to overlook all that was bad in their prince's
 
 xi.vii.] THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 471 
 
 conduct, and were willing for him to many the French princess, 
 Henrietta Maria. But before he had actually done so his father 
 died, and he became king as Charles I. 
 
 l'». The new king was a great contrast to his father. James 
 paltry and contemptible in his looks and manners; Charles 
 was very royal, dignified, and handsome. He was 
 every inch a gentleman; he was also a scholar and Charles I. 
 (in his own way) a Christian. His private character 
 
 unlike James's; he was pure in life, a faithful husband, 
 and a loving father. We seem to know his beautiful and 
 melancholy face very well from the portraits which he left be- 
 hind him. So now th«; romantic element comes in. Had he 
 vulgar, undignified, and clownish, there would not have 
 been nearly Buch discordant opinions about him ami his character. 
 His fault was that lie never could be trusted to keep his 
 
 promisee ; he was fond of bidding parliament rely on his "royal 
 word," hut he was not at all particular as to observing that 
 . al word." 
 11. lie had already in bis love-making shown a specimen of 
 this fatal defect in his character. The new French queen, and 
 still more her attendants, soon became very dis- 
 
 • ion, chiefly on account of their quee e n 
 religion. It. was believed that some of the Catholic 
 I had followed the queen from France "had not only 
 
 I l with tin- Pope on the one side, and the English Papi cs 
 
 on tie- other, hut had had intelligence also with the Spaniard." 
 Tii' re is a yery amusing Letter about the a French attendants of 
 the queen, written at tic tine, and giving an account of their 
 dismissal, The. priests who attended on her, says the writer, 
 '•were the most .- 1 1 1 >< • i - 1 i i i . . ii ~ , turbulent, and Jesuited priests that 
 
 could be found in all Frai , very tit to make firebrand 
 
 sedition in a foreign state." The king found il u< to order 
 
 all these " hypocritical dogs," besid of ladies and 
 
 ints, to quit the country. When it was made known that 
 they were to go away, " the women howled and lamented, as if 
 ling to executi m," and the queen, it was Baid, "grew 
 very impatient, and bi gla j windows with her fist ; " but 
 
 .ill in vain, Charles held his own; and though h 
 warded them handsomely, they had to go. He . r2r 
 knew very well how to be peremptory, and could 
 langt J this perio I. al least, not quite befitting a "royal saint." 
 
 Witness this letter of his, entirely in his own hand, to the Duke of 
 Iringham, " for the dual driving away of the Monsieurs."
 
 472 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 " Steexie, 
 
 " I have received your letter by Die Gramic ; this is 
 my answer. I command you to send all the French away to-mor- 
 row out of the town. If you can, by fair means (but stick not 
 long in disputing) J otherwise force them away, driving them 
 away like so many wild beasts, until ye have shipped them, and 
 so the devil go with them. Let me hear no answer but of the 
 performance of my command." 
 
 12. But though the Frenchmen went away, they did not take 
 all the troubles away with them. Charles's reign was almost all 
 
 taken up with strife between himself and his sup- 
 Beginnings p 0r fc ers on one si« lo, and the parliament and their 
 
 supporters on the other. The two great parties into 
 which they gradually formed themselves came to be called the 
 Cavaliers and the Roundheads; afterwards they received the 
 names of Whigs and Tories, and they were, we may say, the 
 fathers of what we now call the Conservatives, and the Radicals 
 or Liberals ; only that now those two parties are far nearer 
 ther and less unlike than they were then, and instead of war 
 to the knife, they oppose one another when necessary in a lawful 
 and constitutional manner, by electing members of parliament, 
 who discuss, and argue, and vote in the House of Commons. 
 
 13. At this period they were drawing farther and farther apart, 
 and became very widely different. Charles's party sounds the 
 
 most attractive in tales, and looks the best in portraits. 
 The Cava- jj (j j^ ()]1 his side nearly all the nobility, and the 
 
 country gentlemen, men of birth and good breeding, 
 faithful, loyal, devoted, and honourable. He had also the Church 
 of England, the bishops and clergy, and the universities, nearly 
 all of what are called the higher classes, and who were greatly 
 afraid of lawlessness and tin' violence of the mob. The Cavaliers 
 had a stately air, wore long hair, line lace collars and ruffles, and 
 looked aristocratic. There were, however, besides these, many 
 gay young fellows of lower birth, who joined the king's party 
 because they hated tie; strictness of the Puritans. 
 
 14. The other side comprised but tew of the nobility and 
 higher gentry j but nearly all the middle ranks, the merchants, 
 
 the shopkeepers, and the country farmers or yeomen. 
 The Round - The true hearts, the true religion, and love of liberty 
 
 of these men were splendid and glorious, and for the 
 lasting good of England, but they were not so attractive or im- 
 posing as the Cavaliers. Indeed, in some ways they had already
 
 xi.vii.] THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 473 
 
 i 11 to make tlienaselves ridiculous. They had not the good 
 taste to avoid absurdity and exaggeration, nor the sense to see 
 what points were of real consequence and what were not. They 
 also began to read the Old Testament more than the New, and 
 to think that all things which the Jews had done of old were the 
 right things for Christians to do now ; thus they became herce 
 and vindictive. They called Sunday the Sabbath, and wished to 
 it observed as strictly as the Jews observed the seventh day. 
 All sorts of harmless things they considered sinful. "It was a 
 sin," says Macaulay, "to hang garlands on a May-pole, to drink 
 a friend's health, to tly a hawk, to hunt a stag, to play at chess, 
 to wear 1 ive-locks (as the Long curls of the Cavaliers werecalled), 
 to pul starch into a ruff, to read the 'Fairy Queen.'" "To know 
 whether a man was really godly was impossible. But it was easy 
 to know whether he had a plain dress, lank hair, no starch in his 
 linen, no gay furniture in his house, whether he talked through 
 his nose and showed the whites of his eyes, whether he named 
 hildren Assurance, Tribulation, and Maher-shalal-hashbaz." 
 
 15. Even this is not exaggerated. They often changed their 
 own names from Henry or Edward to Buch as they thoughl had 
 a more pious Bound, and would either choose a name out of the 
 ( )ld Teal iment, like Hezekiah or Habakkuk, or some religious word 
 or phrase which v. even a name al all. There was one 
 rather famous Puritan, ion alter this tune, named Pn 
 
 ind a list is given by Hume of the names of twelve 
 men who were said to have i r\ ed on one jury, amoux which were 
 enied, Kill sin, and Fight t he lit of faith. 
 
 16. All this was very absurd and irritating, and their gloomi- 
 
 erity were very unlike Christ's religion. Bui 
 the true Puril tid grand men never- 
 
 theless. In the beginning they were less austere and , e untan 
 more liberal. Uur great poet .Milton was one; \>n\ 
 he loved music, poetry, and artj there was nothing narrow or 
 about him ; and his face was as beautiful, as noble, as refined 
 own. Tim early leaders of the Puritan party, the 
 ■ d. .in in the com ;le, had none ol that litl lene 
 
 or bi their spirit ; they were country gentlemen, well- 
 
 educated and well born, who were represi nting their countii 
 
 men, parliament The name oi the it eminent wen 
 
 i t, I'vui. and Hampden; the two Latter were among those 
 
 whom 'diaries prevented h 'migrating to America. Hampden 
 
 the noblest and m ist pei feci of I he I 'ui itan geul le 
 men.
 
 4T4 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 17. Of the king's ministers, the most celebrated were a layman, 
 Strafford, and an archbishop, Laud. Strafford, or Wentworth, aa 
 
 he was at tirst called, was a clever, strong, resolute 
 
 The king s man w ] 10 i) e rr an D y beim? on the side of the people, 
 ministers. 
 
 and opposing the tyranny of the king, but afterwards 
 
 changed entirely, and was more arbitrary, fierce, and despotic 
 
 than ever Charles himself would have been. 
 
 18. Laud was the head of the High Church party. He con- 
 sidered himself a strict Protestant, but other people thought that 
 his ureat love of ritual and ceremonies would lead back to Rome 
 by and bye. Fuller tells us of a lady (still living when he wrote 
 his history) " who, turning Papist, and being demanded of the 
 archbishop the cause of her changing her religion, tartly returned, 
 ' My lord, it was because I ever hated a crowd.' And being 
 desired to explain her meaning herein, 'I perceived,' said she, 
 'that your lordship and many others are making for Pome as fast 
 as ye can, and therefore, to prevent a press, 1 went before you.' ' ; 
 
 Of these chiefs of the rival parties, Eliot died in prison, 
 Hampden was killed in battle ; Strafford and Laud were be- 
 headed. Very few of the eminent men of those old days came 
 to a peaceful end. 
 
 19. The contest began at once, from the very first parliament 
 in Charles's reign. The king wished for money ; the commons 
 wished the redress of grievances. They especially demanded the 
 dismissal of the Duke of Buckingham, who was as great a favourite 
 with Charles as ho had been with his father. The king would 
 not redress the grievances, nor would he give up Buckingham; 
 the commons therefore refused to grant the money. Charles then 
 dissolved the parliament, and tried to get money without their 
 consent. He laid on taxes called tonnage and poundage (duties 
 paid upon every tun of wine or pound of meichandise brought 
 into the country from abroad) by his own authority, and he tried 
 to force rich men to lend money. Many rich people, Hampden 
 among them, refused to lend, and were put in prison. The poorer 
 people who seemed inclined to resist were pressed into the licet, 
 or compelled to enter the army. 
 
 20. Still the king could not get nearly as much money as he 
 wanted, especially as there was again a wretched little war with 
 France going on; he was obliged to summon parliament once 
 more, and to set the gentlemen whom he had imprisoned at 
 liberty. 
 
 The parliament was again quite ready to give him money if 
 he would redress their grievances, but not a shilling without.
 
 xi.vn.] TIIE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 475 
 
 He delayed and hung back as long as he could ; the 
 parliament at last laid before him what is called the ^ 28 - . 
 
 ■• Petition of Right," which was almost as important of jJLjJ 011 
 and as precious as Magna Charta itself. The prin- 
 cipal things on which it insisted were, that the king should 
 no taxes without the consent of the parliament, and that 
 no man should he imprisoned except in a lawful way. Charles 
 was as sorry to sign this as John had been to sign Magna 
 Charta, but he was obliged to do it; and the parliament then 
 granted him a large sum of money. 
 
 21. Everything however went wrong; the war was unsuccess- 
 ful and inglorious; and the Duke of Buckingham, who was at 
 the head of it. was murdered in the streets of Portsmouth. The 
 king lost no time in breaking all his promises, and went on 
 : money by the taxes of tonnage and poundage, without 
 tin- • of parliament, ami in defiance of the " Petition of 
 Right " which he had signed. Parliament then 
 
 r paid those taxes was an 
 
 enemy to the liberties of England. The king forbade parliament 
 
 t<><i, the matter at all; and when they refused to obey him, 
 
 Ived the || ime of the members in prison. One 
 
 ofti. : John Eliot, who never lived to come out again. 
 
 22. The kin_' now determined to go on without parliament at 
 all, and it was eleven years before they met again. Those were 
 eleven terrible yeara of despotism ami cruelty. There were two 
 councih or which, though they had existed 
 
 done much mischief, hut The High 
 which nowbecame the main instrument of tyranny, Conin >is3ion 
 d the Bigh Commission Courl and the star Court and 
 
 . . . til -i tne otfii 
 
 I i'. Lney had tin- power oi puni ny« chamber, 
 
 body for what they called contempl of the kin 
 
 •y, without any Legal trial or fail means of defending 
 
 himself. Strafford .nil Laud had all their own way. I. and 
 looked after the religious affairs, and the Puritans were treated 
 with pitiless cruelty. 'I hey were imprisoned, whipped, branded 
 with red-hot . their eai were cul off They Bed from the 
 
 country when t ; el, though they were not. even allowed t,, 
 
 do thai in pi i 
 
 23 >rd, on his part, gave his mind to the other depe 
 
 ment. He for 1 cheme, which he called by the 
 
 ive name of "Thorough." This scheme was 
 to make the king ah-. lute; t,, put all the people. J-, 8che "";, 
 
 1 , . Thorough. 
 
 their Illicit v and their property, entirely in hi- power,
 
 475 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 so that he might imprison or tax them just as lie pleased; to 
 put his will above all the laws, and all the judges, and all the 
 rights of the people. Being a wonderfully clever and strong- 
 minded man, Strafford really went sonic way towards bringing 
 his scheme to pass. lie was for some time governor in the north 
 of England, and he and his council at York defied the law and 
 set up the royal power to such a point that it was as 
 if Magna Charta had never existed. He went after- 
 wards to Ireland, and did the same there. 
 
 24. But though he had appeared to succeed so far, he felt that 
 there was one weak point si ill. He or the king might oppress to 
 such an extent that at last the people would rise and rebel. He 
 knew how often this had happened already in England. And if 
 they did, if — all classes being equally oppressed — all should 
 rebel, what then ? The king had no army ; the hundred beef- 
 eaters or a few household guards would not avail much against a 
 nation in arms. In France, where the king was now quite 
 despotic, he had a standing army at his back. Strafford saw that 
 to make his scheme "Thorough" work, the king must have an 
 army too. But here was a gnat difficulty. For a standing army 
 is a very expensive thing, and the king could get no money. 
 
 The Crown lawyers and Strafford between them thought of 
 what seemed a very clever expedient. They dared not make 
 any new taxes, so they fell back upon a very old one; so old, 
 however, and so altered by them, that it almost seemed new. 
 
 25. In former times, when there was danger of invasion, and 
 
 before the nation had a regular fleet, the government had been 
 
 used to call on the counties and large towns on the 
 Ship-money. S( ,. ( _ ( ,,. ist to prov id e ships to defend the country. 
 
 Sometimes, if these towns had no Bhips ready or to spare, the 
 king would take money from them instead and fit out ships him- 
 self. Strafford and others determined to try this old 
 plan again. But therewas a wide difference between 
 what they did ai d the old plan, Ships or ship-money had 
 never been asked for except in times of war, and now it was a 
 time of pence. Nor had it ever been asked for except from the 
 place- on the coast; now it was demanded from all the inland 
 
 c ities too. Moreover, ship-money had never been wanted 
 
 except for \. -hips ; now it was not for getting ships at all. 
 
 The king was to do what he pleased with it; and the thing which 
 he would pleas- to do would, no doubt, be to raise an army. 
 
 26. Thid was a very t'l-rible state of things; the whole country 
 was alarmed and indignant. Some brave men, and notably
 
 x: ..ii.] THE KING AND THE PARLIAMENT. 477 
 
 Hampden, who lived in Buckinghamshire, a long 
 
 way from the sea, had the courage to refuse to pay. p 
 
 It was a very small sum which was demanded from him, not 
 
 more than a few shillings; hut he saw how great a matter was 
 
 at stake; nothing less than the whole liberty of England. His 
 
 cause was 1 ii • -• 1 before twelve judges; but judges at this time 
 
 were almost tools of the king, who could s»-t them up and put 
 
 I :i down at his pleasure : and the majority gave judgment 
 
 against Hampden. Even of those twelve, however" five were 
 
 opposed to the king, and only seven were on his side, so that 
 
 the decision wan looked on almost as a victory to Hampden. 
 
 Ih- was honoured and admired more than ever by the people, 
 
 and more and more indignation was felt against the king and 
 
 i th>rd. 
 
 27. As if the king had not yet done mischief enough by 
 
 alienating the people of England by his tyranny and broken 
 
 promises, he now turned and exasperated Scotland. 
 
 It v. by unjust taxes this lime, but by an cl J arles a " d 
 
 ,-...' , .-ii , r the Scotch. 
 
 on winch they resented still more deeply, an 
 
 k on their religion. Wesawhow far the Scotch Protestants 
 had carried the Reformation ; they detested the Church of Eng- 
 land and its bishops nearly as bitterly as the Church of Rome 
 and its Pope. They pul Popery and Prelacy together, and they 
 
 hated the I h prayer-1 k, the communion-service, the 
 
 surplice, &c. mo i vehemently. .Inst at this moment Charles 
 and Archbishop Laud determined to compel the Scotch to use 
 the liturgy and ceremonies of England in all their churches. 
 
 The Scotch, who bad always been a turbulent and 
 
 rnable people, and who saw with great jealousy their 
 
 ■ h kin.-- turning into Englishmen, and Scotland sinking as 
 
 they feared into a orl of province to England, re anted this 
 
 i insult and - m more than all. They broke .„„„ 
 
 into in -iiM- cti »n, ju : a the Devonshire Catholics 
 
 hel due, on the mi' 1 provocation. The rising l an on a 
 
 Sunday -the first Sunday when the prayer-b be re»«d 
 
 iu the church. " No sooner was the book opened by the Dean 
 of Edin "it i Phillip-*, Milton's nephew, who tells the 
 
 of th ne ne i ort, with clapping of their 
 hands, and outcrii a great uproar; and um of Mean 
 
 called Jane or Janot Gaddis (yet living it the writing of this 
 r< l.i! i in) fiung a little foldi he lat at I he dean's 
 
 n . - 1 int. thou false thief I dosl thou say the ma 
 my lug (ear).' Which was followed with bo greal noise" that
 
 478 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 the service could not go on at all. "All Edinburgh, all Scotland, 
 and behind that all England and Ireland," says Carlyle, " rose 
 into unappeasable commotion on the flight of this stool of 
 Jenny's." 
 
 29. The king tried to put down the rebellion, but he could 
 not succeed. He had not soldiers enough, and he had not money 
 enough. He and Strafford could see no alternative before them 
 but, after the eleven years they had had their own way, to call a 
 parliament again ; they dared not make any more attempts to 
 raise taxes illegally, lest England should flame up as Scotland 
 had done. 
 
 30. But when parliament met, and showed ever so mildly a 
 desire to have their grievances, all the bitter grievances of those 
 eleven years, looked into, the king, who coidd never learn wisdom, 
 or see that he was walking over a mine of gunpowder, sent them 
 about their business. He tried once more to govern at his plea- 
 sure, and even more tyrannically still. Ship-money was levied 
 with increased rigour; soldiers were enlisted by force. But 
 these soldiers did him no good ; they were more inclined to side 
 with the nation, and did not wish to fight the Scotch. Every- 
 thing went so ill with him that he was obliged to summon 
 
 another parliament — his last. This was the famous 
 164 °- "Lons Parliament."
 
 XLVIII. 
 
 THE CIVIL WAR. 479 
 
 LECTURE XLVIII.— THE CIVIL WAR. 
 
 The Long Parliament. The five members. The war begins. Oliver 
 1 omwelL His army. Trial and execution of the king. The military 
 despotism. Battle of Worcester. 
 
 1. Wm.\ the parliament Hist met all the members seem to have 
 of one mind. The ^dvcrmnfiit had been so flagrantly 
 oppr< 1 1 1 . 1 tyrannical that no one attempted to 
 
 defend it. They all set vigorously to work to restore 1640. 
 
 lorn. The king could make no head against them the L<fn° 
 at all. Those odious courl . I e High Commission, Parliament. 
 
 • !hamber,the Council of York, were abolished 
 at once ; ship-money was declared illegal, and it was decreed that 
 
 no interval of m »re than t li i hould ever elapse between 
 
 parliament and parliament. Next they resolved to punish the 
 tyrant-. \'.,t thai they yet thought of punishing the king j no 
 one dreaml of thai ; bul they v,vn. determined to evt rid of those 
 who had helped and advised him, especially of Strafford and 
 id. 
 
 'l. Both these were impris I, and both, Strafford very soon, 
 
 i i after a few years, were beheaded. It only shows how the 
 men on each great conflict - persuaded 
 
 then that they were right, that they were fight- T g t ° °J*.J f 
 
 ing ' God, religion, and honour, to see the noble and Laud. 
 
 in which they would go to their deaths. Straf- 
 ford ind Laud died, tl like a hero, the other like a saint; 
 
 ' with their latest breatb of their devotion to their 
 religion, iir king, and affection to the peace and 
 
 welfare of the kingdom ; though it seems so plain to us now how 
 
 much they ha 1 '1 to injure | hem all 
 
 l i h id, how. i bad 'i that It was 
 
 , :tli of those two men which could sel them right. 
 A great rebellion broke out in Ireland, Strafford 
 h 1 1 ruled them with a rod of iron, but be had only '".■ 
 
 ... , ., ill B ■hellion 
 
 bed the people outwardly, and when he was in Ireland. 
 gone thsir Bmothered rage broki out. The Irish
 
 480 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 indeed had been oppressed by tbe English for a very long lime. 
 Tiny had hardly been looked on as fellow creatures, still less as 
 fellow Christians. In earlier times it had even been said that it 
 was no more sin to kill an Irishman than to kill a dog. It could 
 not be wondered at that they hated their oppressors. In punish- 
 ment for some rebellion, a great number of English and .Scutch 
 Protestants had been settled in Ulster, turning out the old pos- 
 sessors of the land and their chiefs. The natives, who were 
 devoted Catholics, now rose upon these foreign interlopers, and a 
 terrible massacre took place. 
 
 •I. It was agreed on all hands that the Irish revolt must he put 
 down, but great differences of opinion arose in the parliament as 
 to how much power ou^ht to be coidided to the king for sup 
 pressing it. His whole previous career had given rise to the 
 gravest distrust. Charles had shown himself arbitrary and faith- 
 less ; he was also believed to be inclined to favour the Roman 
 Catholic religion, under the influence of his wife, who was still 
 more unpopular than he was. It was even rumoured, though 
 without the slightest foundation, that he had stirred up the Irish 
 Catholics to murder the Protestants. All this made Charles 
 deeply indignant. 
 
 5. After the death of Stratford he had made advances towards 
 conciliation, by taking as his chief ministers some of the more 
 
 moderate of the members of parliament, Falkland, 
 
 The new 7{ Vl |e, ail ,l Colepepper ; men who were loyal and 
 ministers. ** * . 
 
 conservative, but who still loved liberty and justice, 
 
 and hated lawless tyranny. The king promised he would do 
 
 nothing without their advice, and would tell them all he wished 
 
 or thought of doing. Could he. but have kept his word ! but that 
 
 was just the one thing he never could do. 
 
 6. 'that Charles was a good mm, in a sense, no one can wish 
 t" denv, but he had no feeling of truth or honour in him in his 
 
 dealings with his subjects. He had probably been 
 The king s \, v ,.,\ ,,,, j n the notion so common among royal per- 
 cousciencc r » ,, , ,, , ,, , .. ° u . 
 
 sonages ot that period, that though it was wrong to 
 
 tell lies to g< Qtleinen, princes, and kings, it was no sin to deceive 
 the people under him. The Archbishop of York had told him, in 
 so many words, that there was a private conscience and a public 
 conscience, and that his public conscience, as a king, might not 
 only dispense with, hut oblige him to do, that which was against 
 his private conscience as a man. And it seems that if a man has 
 two consciences, one of which is liable to go exactly contrary bo 
 other, it is much the same as having none at all.
 
 , 
 
 xi.vm.] THE CIVIL WAR. 4S1 
 
 7. This doctrine, outrageous and immoral as it sounds, had, 
 
 -. a certain truth in it. A constitutional sovereign, 
 one who has to govern according to the sense of parliament and 
 the nation, cannot and must not act always according to his own 
 judgment. For he sometimes wishes and thinks right, things 
 which the parliament and the majority of the nation think wrong. 
 Our kings and queens may often have to consent to things which 
 perhaps their private minds do not approve, but this does no 
 violence to their conscience, because everybody knows that such 
 affairs are settled by the ministers, or, as we call them, the 
 Cabinet, and the Cabinet is always appointed in agreement with 
 the majority of tin- House of Commons. It. was the great misfor- 
 tune of the Stuarts that no Buch plan had been thought of in 
 their days, and as they were too blind, or too careless, or too 
 obstinate to Bee and conform to the will of the nation, it led to 
 all the 'li- bich ruined them at last. 
 
 8. In an evil hour one of Charl< ^sciences caused him to 
 i. the promise he had made to his ministers, and without their 
 
 knowledge or consent to take a step which was. per- 
 haps, th important and the most ruinous in his „ 
 whole life. II" determined to charge five of the members. 
 principal members of the II >use of Comnn 
 
 Hampden, Pym, and tin ithers, with high treason, and to ai 
 
 them within the very walls of the parliament. These five were 
 the lead< I the popular party, and it was quite due that they 
 opposed the tyranny of the king. Bui whatever they did, they 
 did by fair and legal m evidenl thai if the members 
 
 migl openly what they thoughl in parlia- 
 
 ment, 1 1 would be of ii" use at all, either as 
 
 advi d checking the king, or a repri entita the thou 
 
 and the will of tie' cation. 
 
 This was tie' most flagrant acl of tyranny CharL had yet 
 
 He wenl t.. t he. || him elf, followed by ari 
 
 soldi< m tli" five membet tree. But the live, 
 
 1 1 el .1 bint of what was coming, were not there. 
 Tbey h Inthecit] "t London, the Londonei being 
 
 all in favour of Liberty, and resolved t" defend it; even "tie' 
 rude people flocked together crying out, ' Privilege of parliam 
 privilege "f parliament ' ' " 'I 'h ■ 1 the five mem- 
 
 1 [appointed rd to watch over them. Everybody was 
 
 filled with indignation, even the king's friends, and especially 
 
 1 [yde, b Lord 
 
 I .ii- him much displeased and d< bed, that 
 
 . i
 
 482 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 they were inclined never more to take upon them the care of any- 
 thing to be transacted in that House, for fear of being looked on 
 as the authors of those counsels which they perfectly detested." 
 
 10. In a very few days the five members were brought lock in 
 triumph. " The Thames was covered with boats, and its shores 
 with the gazing multitude. Armed vessels, decorated with 
 streamers, were ranged in two lines from London Bridge to West- 
 minster Had. The members returned upon the river in a ship 
 manned by sailors who had volunteered their services. The 
 train-bands of the city, under the command of the sheriffs, marched 
 along the Strand, attended by a vast crowd of spectators," 
 clamouring for the privdege of parliament. So the five members 
 took their places again, the House of Commons having declared 
 that any one who attempted to arrest them was a public enemy 
 to the common wealth. 
 
 11. The king, who was bitterly mortified and ashamed, and who 
 was perpetually hooted and shouted at by the rabble, could not 
 
 bear to stay and see the triumph of the parliament, 
 
 The king which was his own defeat. He left Whitehall 
 
 London an< ^ London, and never came back to them till 
 
 he came back to die. 
 
 This violence of the king we may look on as the beginning of 
 
 the great civil war. He and the parliament had negotiations for 
 
 some few months longer, but they could never be 
 
 1642. friends again. Both parties began to muster up 
 
 Commence- t ] u .; r BU pp rters and to raise armies. In August 
 
 civil war. King Charles set up his standard at Nottingham, 
 
 on an eminence, still called Standard Hill, and the 
 
 war was begun. The parliament chose the Earl of Essex as 
 
 their general, and the first battle in the great struggle was 
 
 fought in October, at Edgehill. It was a sort of drawn battle, 
 
 in which neither side conquered; but for some time afterwards 
 
 things went best with the Royalisl party. 
 
 12. The two armies were very unlike one another, and the 
 king's was by far the best, though he had no great general to com- 
 mand it. One of his principal officers was his nephew, Prince 
 Rupert, who was wonderfully bold and dashing as a soldier, 
 though he had not the qualities of a commander. The greater 
 part of the nobility and gentry were on the side of the king, 
 and hastened to rally around him in his need. Though they 
 were not trained soldiers, they were high-spirited and brave, 
 accustomed to riding, shooting, hunting, and fencing ; whilst the 
 parliament had only been able to enlist the lower sort of hire-
 
 xLvin.] THE CIVIL WAR, 483 
 
 lings, many of whom were " a mere rabble of tapsters and 
 serving-men out of place." Nor did the Earl of Essex prove 
 himself a clever commander. Very early in the war, Hampden, 
 who would probably have been as good a general as he was a 
 -in ni, was killed in a skirmish with Prince Rupert. 
 
 13. But now there began to come into note the man who 
 before very long rose to he the head of everything, and whose 
 name is the most famous in all this period — Oliver 
 
 mwelL Those who think Charles I. a saint r 01iver 
 naturally think Cromwell a wicked murderer, and 
 his in, mory is still hated and reviled by some. But nobody can 
 help seeing that he was an extraordinary man — a strong man 
 with an iron will, a true genius for command, and a sincere feel- 
 ing of religion. -\- to his arts, it would be vain to attempt to 
 justify them all, hut that Ik; saved England at this time from 
 
 cry and ruin can hardly be denied. 
 
 1 I. II i ruber of the Long Parliament, aid was made 
 
 an officer in its army, though he had not, been trained to war. 
 "When he compared the two armies, he very BOOn 
 
 what must he done, and set himself to do it. "army. 
 Be would nol !»• content with a hired rabble such as the parlia- 
 ment had begun with; he determined to new mode] firei his 
 own regiment* and then the whole' army, His regiment Boon 
 me famous under the name of "Cromwell's Ironsides," and 
 tip- army when he had remodelled it, was perhaps the most 
 wonderful army the world ever .-aw. 'The soldiers had high pay; 
 were no longer the he, | of the people, but men of decent. 
 hai icter, and ome educal ion. They gloried in 
 iev had ict been forced into the service, nor had enlisted 
 for the of lucre, l"it were fveeborn Englishmen, who 
 
 willingly put their Uvea in jeopardy for the liberties and religion 
 of \ .■ nd. 
 
 15. Religion, Indeed, waa the mainspring of all their lives 
 and actions. Hut it ion, with as much b il red 
 
 in it They were irreproachable in their moral conduct; 
 
 then ao drinking or any other excess among 
 
 t If in ; hut they v.. bitter and upon any who 
 
 thought differently from themselves "n the doctrines of religion. 
 These Boldiei and Cromwell himself were different from the 
 Iv byterians, who were beginning to Bpread very much in I n 
 land a, well a, in Scotland, and who ha, I a • l hurch di ci- 
 pline of their own. They called themselves [ndependenl . and 
 thought thai I tion had a right to govern 
 
 i i -1
 
 4S4 
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 [lect. 
 
 Itself; so to Popery and Prelacy they added the farther hatred 
 of Presbyterianism. 
 
 16. The indignation and contempt they felt against the Church 
 of England led them to do many things which sound to us most 
 irreverent and revolting, such as stabling their horses in St. 
 Paul's and other cathedrals, breaking down the carved work and 
 beautiful ornaments, and damaging them in a cruel way. A few 
 years after the wars were over, an English gentleman, travelling 
 through the country, gives us this account of their doings in 
 Lincoln Cathedral : — "The soldiers had lately knocked off most 
 of the brasses from the gravest-ones, so as few inscriptions wvre 
 left; they told us that these men went in with axes and ham- 
 mers, and shut themselves in till they had rent and torn off some 
 barge-loads of metal, not sparing even the monuments of the 
 dead, so hellish an avarice possessed them." It was not avarice 
 which possessed them, but what they believed to be zeal for 
 ( rod's glory and the faith of Christ. 
 
 17. With all their pride and sternness, they knew at the same 
 time how to be self-denying and obedient. Cromwell main- 
 tained a strict discipline ; he caused them to be rigidly drilled 
 and taught the soldier's art, and they very soon surpassed their 
 enemies. They were as brave and enthusiastic as the Cavaliers, 
 and they wen- trained, and steady, and submissive as the Cavaliers 
 never could be. " From the time the army was remodelled." 
 says Macaulay, "to the time it was disbanded it never found, 
 either in the British Isles or on the Continent, an enemy who 
 could stand its onset. In England, Scotland, Ireland, Flandeis, 
 the Puritan warriors, often surrounded by difficulties, sometimes 
 contending against threefold odds, not only never failed to 
 conquer, but never failed to destroy and break in pieces what- 
 ever force was opposed to them. They at length came to regard 
 the day of battle as the day of certain triumph, and marched 
 
 inst the most renowned battalions of Europe with disdainful 
 confidence. . . . Tureune expressed the delighl of a true soldier 
 when he learned that it was ever the fashion of Cromwell's 
 pikemen to rej p ally when they beheld the enemy." 
 
 18. When this army came to be disbanded at last, after many 
 great events had happened, every one felt alarmed as to what the 
 consequences might be. Would the soldiers hi-, seen begging in 
 
 would they turn robbers'? There were 50,000 of 
 
 them turned loos.; on the world. But no evil results followed j 
 
 they quietly took up useful trades, and "tbe Royalists them- 
 
 > confessed that none were charged with any theft or
 
 xlmii.] THE CIVIL WAR. 435 
 
 robbery, and none was heard to ask an alms." Here is the 
 testimony of an eye-witness, and a man far more inclined to the 
 
 dist than the Roundhead side (writing in 1G63): "Generally 
 they are the most substantial sort of people and the soberest. . . . 
 <>f all the old army now, you cannot see a man begging about 
 tli.- streets. But what ( Sou shall have this captain turned a 
 shoemaker, the lieutenant a baker, this a brewer, that a haber- 
 dasher ; and '-very one in his apron and frock, as if they had 
 
 ! 'Ion.' anything else ; whereas the other go with their belts 
 and swords, swearing and cursing and stealing, running into 
 people's houses, by force of tentimes, to carry away something; 
 and this is the differ* I ween the temper of one and theother." 
 
 19. It was ii"t t < » be wondered at that this army carried 
 all before it. They defeated the king's forces in two great 
 battles, Maraton Moor and Naseby, and in other 
 
 smaller mi The Cavaliers could not stand before 1645 - 
 
 them, and the power of the parliament was estab- B * ttle , of 
 
 lished over the whole country. Charles fled to the ase y ' 
 
 uid the Scots gave him up. or, as La sometimes said, .sold 
 him to tie- English, who imprisoned him, firsl in Eolmby House 
 an old manor-house -till standing in Northamptonshire* after- 
 wards in Carisbrook Castle, in the [sle of Wight. 
 
 20. Now that the parliament was victorious, their principal 
 care remodel the religion of the country. Most of the 
 
 were rigorous Puritans and Presbyterians. 
 They entered into what they called a "solemn The 
 
 le and covenant" to put down Popery and prelacy, Covenant - 
 in. They mad< i alliance with the Scotch 
 
 byterians, who subscribed the league and covenant with all 
 their bee The 8cotch " I iovenantera " have left an undying 
 
 "•"i"' behind them, through the heroism with which in after 
 
 endured terrible persecutions ; but for the pri 
 their pa in the ascend int, an. I tin English 
 
 Covenanters now pel ecuted other people. They Persecution 
 turned a great many clergymen oul of their pari bes, ° f l ! ie 
 and forbade any one to read the Engli h Prayer inland. 
 
 1 •< (which bad by tins time become very dear to 
 
 many) even in their own homes. The churches \\ I by 
 
 the Puritan minisfa 
 
 21. It had lately become a fashion for intelligenl people to 
 keep diaries, and when we read those diariea we Bee how the 
 
 evnis which occurred struck the minds of ] pie living in the. 
 
 midst of them, so that they carry us quite back in!- ill ise "Id
 
 4SG LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 times, which seem so strange to us when we attempt to realize thou. 
 One of these diarists, John Evelyn, tells us how he went into a 
 church one Whitsunday, "and heard one of their canters, who 
 dismissed the assemhly rudely, and without any blessing." He 
 says that during this period the Church of England was con- 
 sidered to be "utterly lost," which was a great triumph to the 
 Papist-. The only argument that could he brought to prove its 
 visibility and existence, was that the English ambassador in 
 Paris still had his chapel, where the Anglican Liturgy and cere- 
 monies were maintained. 
 
 22. They rigorously forbade the keeping of festivals, above 
 all Christmas Day, which was the most joyous and dearly-prized 
 of all. Having made an ordinance " that none should any 
 longer observe the superstitious time of the nativity," they 
 would seize upon any worshippers who ventured to meet and 
 celebrate the Church service. Evelyn tells how " these mis- 
 creants " found out a little band with whom he was worshipping 
 one Christmas Day, " held their muskets against them " as they 
 went up to receive the sacrament, as if they would have shot 
 them at the altar, and imprisoned them till the next day, when 
 they were allowed to go home. 
 
 23. In their great zeal too the Puritans burnt a great many 
 beautiful pictures which Charles I. had collected, whether of 
 heathen subjects, or of Madonnas and saints, as being likely 
 to lead to idolatry. Xot content with that, as they did not care 
 for any pictures at all, they ordered those which could not be 
 pronounced to be sinful to be sold. Cromwell, however, who was 
 too really great a man for this ignorant prejudice, would not 
 allow it to be entirely carried out, and though a great many 
 treasures were sent out of the country, he saved the cartoons of 
 Raphael, which are now in the Kensington Museum. 
 
 24. It was not very long before Cromwell and the parliament 
 came to other differences. He and his army being principally 
 
 Independents, while the parliament was Presbyterian, 
 
 ^Tth 611 ^ iey cou ^ not wor k together, and the army, which 
 
 parliament. ^ad beg™ ^V being the servant, ended by being the 
 
 master and the tyrant. They speedily began to dis- 
 agree widely about the question of what was to be done with 
 the captive king. Finding that some of the members of parlia- 
 ment were inclined to come to terms with him, one of the 
 colonels of the army, a man named Pride, marched with a 
 1648 regiment of infantry to the entrance of the House, 
 
 and kept 100 of those members out. This was
 
 xi-viii.] THE CIVIL WAR. 4S? 
 
 called " Pride's Purge," and was certainly more tyrannical than 
 anything Charles had done towards the House of Commons. 
 
 25. Arr this the remains of the parliament agreed that the 
 king should be tried for his life. This was a thing which had 
 never been heard of before. Englishmen were 
 
 indeed well accustomed to see some of tin; noblest Tri f! of tlle 
 of their land, dukes, earls, bishops, delicate ladies, °" 
 
 even queens, brought to the block ; but a crowned king never. 
 Though more than once a worthless or incompetent king had 
 i deposed and had perished miserably, yet his death had 
 always been in secret and in silence. So much sanctity was still 
 believed to attach to a consecrated and anointed sovereign, that. 
 to bring him before a tribunal of his subjects, still more to shed 
 hi- sacred blood on the scaffold, appeared like sacrilege. 
 
 26. Bui the Puritan leaders were not men to commit murder 
 in the dark ; what they did they would do in the face of day ; 
 thoagh by .-o doing they Bhocked and appalled not only the 
 king's own friends, but nearly all the people in the land. 
 Although Charles had been so had a king, and. since his troubles, 
 had become more and more deceitful and false, so that his 
 
 friends were ashai 1 and bitterly grieved, yet now that 
 
 hi- la-t day, drew nigh his spirit rose. At his trial, and after 
 tie- f death had been pronounced, he behaved with 
 
 a firmness and calm dignity worthy of a king. 
 
 27. He took a tender have of his young children ; the elder 
 
 well as the queen were already out, of the country. 
 Hume tollg how, placing his little jod "m his knee, he said, u Now 
 
 will cut off thy father's head." At these words the child 
 j idfastly upon him. "Mark, child, what I <\ ; 
 
 they will cut off my head, and perhaps make thee a king, But 
 mark what I <•. ; thou must uoi be a king as thy 
 
 brothen Charles and Jam are alive. They will cut off thy 
 .vheii they can catch them ; and thy head too they 
 will cut oti Then fort . 1 chai e thee, .1,, n,,t be made a 
 
 kin_' by tlein :" The duke, sighing, replied, " I will be torn in 
 pie< ■ determined an answer from one of such tender 
 
 yeai-, idled the king's eyes with teart of joy and admiration. 
 
 , On th ■ ild he Baid thai he died For the liberty ami 
 laws of the people (perhaps he thoughl be did) ! When he was 
 preparing for the block, Bishop Juxon, who attended 
 him, -aid, "Then bul one re, which, „ 1G49 ' 
 
 though turbulenl and trouble ome, i very short isi-xecu- 
 
 one. Consider, it will soon carry you a great way,
 
 488 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 it will carry you from earth to heaven." . . . The king replied, 
 " I go from a corruptible to an incorruptible crown, where no 
 disturbance can have place." At one blow his head was severed 
 from his body. 
 
 29. From that moment people were ready to forget all his 
 faults, and to consider him, as many do still, a saint and a 
 martyr. Nearly every one in England would have echoed the 
 words of Lord Clarendon, that "the execution of that sentence 
 was the most execrable murder that was ever committed since 
 that of our blessed Saviour." And just as in the old times, if 
 a great saint were put to death, we always hear of miracles being 
 worked at his tomb or by his relics, so now it Avas said that 
 marvellous cures were performed by the blood of the martyred 
 king. Evelyn even tells us of one that was blind being restored 
 to sight by it. 
 
 30. Henceforward, though it was held down by Cromwell 
 and his army, the nation began to hate the new order of things, 
 
 and to long for the royal family back again. All 
 Cromwell the Cavaliers, and many Presbyterians, considered 
 and the Charles's eldest son, a young man of nineteen, as 
 supreme. tucn ' kmg» though he did not begin to reign till 
 eleven years afterwards; for all that time the 
 country was entirely under the dominion of the army. The two 
 great powers which had begun the contest — the king and the 
 parliament — were both put an end to, and the army, with 
 ( 'romwell at its head, was supreme. A sort of shadow of par- 
 liament, however, lingered on for a time, while Cromwell had 
 other things to attend to. 
 
 31. Another great rebellion broke out in Ireland. Everything 
 
 that happened in that unfortunate country, every fresh set of 
 
 people that went and settled there, seemed to make 
 
 The things worse. Carlyle says that the history of it, 
 
 ^Ireland f "" 1 its condition at tllis time > "remains only as a 
 huge blot, an indiscriminate blackness. . . . Theie 
 are parties on the back of parties, at war with the world and 
 with each other. There are Catholics of the Pale (that is, the 
 part where the early English settlers had lived, see p. 177) 
 under my Lord This and my Lord That ; there are old Irish 
 Catholics under papal auncios and native chiefs, who cannot 
 agree with the other Catholics. There are Royalists under the 
 Luke of Ormond, strong for king without covenant; there are 
 Presbyterians, strong for king with covenant; lastly, Michael 
 Jones and the commonwealth of England, who want neither
 
 xtvm.] THE CIVIL WAR. 4SP 
 
 king nor covenant. All these, plunging and tumbling in huge 
 discord for the last eight years, have made of Ireland and its 
 affairs the black, unutterable blot we speak of. . . . Numerous 
 if armed men have been on foot, full of fiery 
 "vehemence and audacity, but without worth as armies ; savage 
 hordes rather, full of hatred and mutual hatred, of disobedience, 
 falsity, and noise. Undrilled, unpaid, driving herds of plun- 
 dered cattle before them for subsistence ; rushing down from 
 bill-sides, from amhiisculoes, passes in the mountains; taking 
 shelter always in the bogs, whither the cavalry cannot follow 
 them." 
 
 .".•_'. < Jromwell came upon all this, says Carlyle, "like a torrent 
 of heaven's lightning." Be was fiery and rapid as lightning 
 
 duly, and he did what he meant to do. He con- 
 quered the country, and he brought it into order 
 and ;i . but he was terribly cruel. Immense 
 
 numbers <>f soldiers, besides priests, friars, and others, were 
 . and thousands and thousands of people were driven 
 from their homes, while English Pro! were settled down 
 
 in their plai . I romwell writes about all this slaughter as if it, 
 the work of the Spirit of God, and wishes "that all honest 
 
 ts may give the glory to God." It is bad enough when 
 men lay all the blame of their wicked deeds on the devil, but it 
 is much wur-.- -till when they give the glory of them to God. 
 
 nine months of this work, and when Ireland was 
 
 ■ I and trampled into tranquillity, Cromwell returned to 
 
 i land, where be was received with great, honours, and went, 
 
 to live in poor King Charles's palace at Whitehall Some time 
 
 te parliament gave him Hampton Courl Palace, 
 
 where Charles had also much of bis time. 
 
 34. The i iblee were in Scotland, which took up the 
 of the banished Prince Charles, under the brave and Loyal 
 
 Montrose, one <>f the noblesl of all the Royali 
 
 Though Ins expedition failed, and be bimself was „, Pr ' nce . 
 
 , , , Charles in 
 
 put to death, the prince ventured to come over to Scotland. 
 land, and « ived by a large pari of the 
 
 in as king. Hi ind pli isure-loving young fellow, 
 
 but he now had to promise to I." a Pre bytei ian (a promise "Inch 
 he never meant to keep), and to conform bimself outwardly to 
 their stricl and gloomy ways. He wa* kepi in such stern order, 
 so preached at, scolded at, and watched, thai il eem to I 
 been the most wretched pari of his life. 
 
 35. The Puritan i I ys, " were in such
 
 490 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 continual attendance upon him, that he was never free from 
 their importunities, under pretence of instructing him in religion ; 
 and so they ohliged him to their constant hours of their long 
 prayers, and made him observe the Sunday with more rigour 
 than the Jews accustomed to do their Sabbath; and repre- 
 hended him very sharply if he smiled on those days, and if his 
 looks and gestures did not please them ; whilst all their prayers 
 and sermons, at which he was compelled to be present, were 
 libels and bitter invectives against all the actions of his father, 
 the idolatry of his mother, and his own malignity." 
 
 36. Cromwell marched into Scotland at the head of his 
 invincible army, and beat the Royalists in a great battle at 
 
 Dunbar. When Charles and his army left Scotland 
 
 ° and marched into England, he followed, and utterly 
 
 Worcester, defeated them at "Worcester. The young king had 
 
 to fly for his life, and met with most Avonderful 
 adventures and hair-breadth escapes in endeavouring to take 
 refuse in France. He seems to have been fond of telling these 
 adventures afterwards, and they are fully recorded in Lord 
 Clarendon's History. "We have them also in a shorter form as 
 they were heard from Charles's own lips, by Samuel Pepys, an- 
 other man who kept a diary in these days ; one of the most odd 
 and amusing diaries that any one ever wrote. He tells us how 
 the king " fell into discourse of his escape from Worcester, where 
 it made me ready to weep to hear the stories that he told of his 
 difficulties that he had passed through ; as his travelling four 
 days and three nights on foot, every step up to his knees in dirt, 
 with nothing but a green coat and a pair of country breeches on, 
 and a pair of country shoes that made him so sore all over his 
 feet that he could scarce stir. Yet he was forced to run away 
 from a miller and other company that took them for rogues. His 
 .sitting at table at one place, where the master of the house, that 
 had not seen him in eight years, did know him but kept it 
 private; when at the same table there was one that had been of 
 his own regiment at Worcester could not know him, but made 
 him drink the king's health, and said that the king was at least 
 four fingers higher than he. . . . In another place, at his inn, 
 the master of the house, as the king was standing with his 
 hands upon the back of a chair by the fireside, kneeled down 
 and kissed his hand privately, saying that he would not 
 ask him who he was, but bid God bless him whither he was 
 
 going. Then the difficulties of getting a boat to get 
 ?hSes° f il|t0 Franee " ( he started from BrigM-Jiemded, a small 
 
 fisher town on the coast of Sussex, now called
 
 xi.vm.] THE CIVIL WAR. 491 
 
 Brighton), " where he was fain to plot with the master thereof to 
 keep his design from the foreman and a boy (which was all the 
 ship's company), and so get to Fecamp in France. At Rouen he 
 looked so poorly that the people went into the rooms before he 
 went away to see whether he had not stolen something or other." 
 
 .'17. It wasjost after the Kittle that the king hid himself in 
 an oak tree, where he could sit in security watching those who 
 crime in search of him, and hearing them say what they would 
 do with him when they caught him, which oak tree is still com- 
 memorated by the wearing of oak apples on the 29th of May ; 
 the day when he was restored to his kingdom. Even all thes • 
 dangers and hardships must have been pleasanter than his life 
 with tie- Scotch preachers, one would think. 
 
 38. Though in the course of his wanderings Charles was 
 
 grrized by a large number of both men and women, and 
 
 though a proclamation was issued promising £1000 to any one 
 
 who would deliver him up, and declaring the penalty of high 
 
 any who should harbour or conceal him, no1 our 
 
 of them all had a thought of betraying him, either through hope 
 
 of reward or dread of punishment]
 
 492 
 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 [lect. 
 
 LECTURE XLIX.— THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 
 
 The rale of Oliver. The fame of England. Death of Oliver. The army 
 supreme. Recall of Charles II. Reaction against the Puritans. 
 
 The Plague and the Fire. 
 
 1. Oliver and his army were now victorious everywhere. The 
 poor remains of the Long Parliament, which had begun so 
 grandly and had done such brave things, were now sunk into 
 contempt. They looked on with displeasure at the new tyranny 
 growing up, but they were quite helpless. At last, 
 one day Oliver marched into the House with a body 
 of soldiers, had the Speaker pulled out of his chair 
 by force, called his mace a bauble, and after abusing 
 and insulting the members, turned them all out of 
 the House, and locked the door. No one dared cry 
 
 which was 
 
 1653. 
 
 Cromwell 
 
 breaks up 
 
 the 
 
 parliament. 
 
 He is made 
 
 Lord 
 Protector. 
 
 "Privilege of Parliament" this time; Oliver and the Ironsides 
 were too strong for them. 
 
 2. The government was now supposed to be republican, and 
 England was called a commonwealth ; but in fact the whole 
 country lay at the feet of Cromwell. He would have 
 liked very much to be made king and called so, but 
 the army, much as they honoured and trusted him, 
 hated the title, of king, and he was instead called 
 the Lord Protector. He now resolved to try and govern in the 
 old way, with a House of Lords and a House of Commons; but 
 his plan did not succeed very well. One of the parliaments he 
 summoned was nut fairly elected, and was generally despised. 
 One of its most active members being the leather-seller, Praise- 
 ( '•<»{ Barebone, it was derisively called by the people " Barebone's 
 Parliament." His other parliament, when it attempted to do its 
 duty and to put some check on his despotic will, he dissolved, just 
 as dames or Charles would have done. His House of Lords was 
 ridiculed by everybody. Scarcely any of the real nubility of 
 the old families which the people respected would attend; it 
 was said that Oliver invited draymen and cobblers to take seats
 
 xi-ix.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 493 
 
 in it. It was quite true that men of all trades had been officers 
 in ( Iromwell'a army, had done good and true work for the country, 
 and were worthy of all respect; but when they attempted to 
 ir as lords and nobles they became ridiculous, and even the 
 II ;se of Commons would not honour them by calling them 
 lords. 
 
 3. If ever there was an absolute monarch in the world, Oliver 
 
 became one now. Bad as it would have been for the country if 
 
 this had eoneon, it cannot he denied that as long as 
 
 Oliver reigned he reigned gloriously. He restored s 
 
 justice and order ; no judge dared touch a bribe now ; 
 
 no one dared stir up strife or tumult. He was even, for those 
 
 days, tolerant in religion. The great parties had broken up into 
 
 many different Beets by this time, and Oliver strove to make them 
 
 live peaceably t< B even allowed the Jews to come back 
 
 to England; none of whom had entered the country since the 
 
 day when Edward 1. had banished them. Ii Ls curious to consider 
 
 that when Shal drew the character of Shylock, be had 
 
 probably never seen a Jew. Some of them were now permitted 
 
 back, and they, by degrees, established them elves in 
 
 London, though they were not allowed to build a synagogue till 
 
 1662. Cromwell, Indeed, became bo famous that some of the 
 
 ign pai ii to think he must be their expected 
 
 M< »iah, and sent a body of Rabbis to England to try and find 
 
 out whether he had not bad some Jewish ancestors. Cromwell 
 
 :n to have been at all flattered by this compliment, 
 
 I tie- RabbU off again in great indignation, 
 
 l. It was while Cromwell was Lord I' 1 c that, the first 
 
 nt out by England to convert tic heathen. 
 
 i now, probably, tic greatest missionary country in the 
 
 world; very ho.'.- gums of money are ra ry year by the 
 
 Church ol England and other bodies for the purp preadiug 
 
 and wide. It v..: now tlut tic in i intere t was 
 
 ed in it Til.- government cau ed collections to be 
 
 made in every parish in England t ling missionaries to the 
 
 Amei ican I ndian , 'I he fii t of t he mi ionaries w 
 
 I heroic man named Eliot, who converted a many 
 
 : ranslated the Bible into their lai 
 
 ime and i id, A fter 
 
 Elizabol ! b she b >. down under the Stu 
 
 power ; but ' Iromwell'a 
 wisdom and strength raised her up again, till she En & land ' 8 
 
 i .i i • i , fame. 
 
 seemed tne greatesl and mightiest nation m I
 
 494 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 All the other countries tried to win her friendship. Her fleet 
 
 once more became grand and powerful. She had an admiral 
 
 named Blake, who was as brave and gallant as Raleigh or Drake. 
 
 England went to war with Holland at this time, which was also a 
 
 : naval power, with brave admirals and fine ships. But they 
 
 and all the other enemies of England were concpuered. The 
 
 i di pride was much gratified during these wars by the taking 
 
 of Dunkirk, a port in Flanders, for it seemed to make 
 
 compensation for the loss of Calais, which, though it 
 
 had happened 100 years before, they never could forget. Evelyn 
 
 the Royalist notes in his diary, "I went to see the great ship 
 
 newly built by the Usurper Oliver, carrying ninety-six brass guns, 
 
 and 1000 tons burthen. In the prow was Oliver on horseback, 
 
 trampling six nations underfoot — a Scot, Irishman, Dutchman, 
 
 Frenchman, Spaniard, and English, as was easily made out by 
 
 their several habits. A Fame held a laurel over his insulting 
 
 head; the word ' God with us.'" 
 
 6. Still more to his lasting glory, Cromwell was the friend and 
 
 protector of all the persecuted Protestants abroad. About the 
 
 same time, when that fine ship was being built, a 
 
 e au ois. j ;err i'bi e scene was going on among the Alps, where, 
 
 ling among the mountain valleys, lived a harmless race of 
 humble Protestants -the Vaudois, or Waldenses — who had not 
 
 dy been converted to Protestantism, but who, living in those 
 secluded regions, had kept Cast to primitive Christianity, and had 
 
 c believed or adopted tin; new things which Rome had added 
 on in tin: course of ages. The Duke of Savoy determined to force 
 
 all these p "'i' j pic to renounce their faith or to leave their 
 
 homes. I hose who did not or could not go away, and who would 
 
 _!'.•>■ up their Bibles and their religion, were massacred with- 
 out mercy. Their ifferings were awful. It was told how "a 
 mother was hurled down a mighty rock with a little infant in her 
 arms, and three day- after was found dead, with the little child 
 alive, but t ped between tin; arms of the dead mother, 
 
 which were cold and -till, insomuch that those who found them 
 had much ado to get the young child out." Those who could 
 e ■■■ ipe into tin- mountains knew where to turn for help ; they sent 
 to England, telling this and many another dreadful 
 talc. All England was in a flame. Cromwell instantly pro- 
 claimed a general fast, and a national collection for the help of 
 the survivors. Nearly £40,000 was contributed at 
 once. But Cromwell did more. He sent anambas- 
 murdering duke, demanding the instant suspension
 
 xlix.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 433 
 
 of the persecution. Such was the awe inspired by Cromwell's 
 name, that the duke submitted without hesitation; the innocent 
 people were allowed to return to their homes and to worship God 
 in peace. Cromwell had a noble helper in this work — the Puritan 
 poet Milton. Many of the letters on this business were written 
 by him, and his heart, glowing with pity and indignation, poured 
 itself out in a prayer which is almost like an inspired psalm : — 
 
 "Avenge, Lord, Thy slaughter' d saints, whose bones 
 Lie scatter'd on the Alpine mountains cold ; 
 Even them who kept Thy truth .so pure of old, 
 When all our fathers worshipt stocks and stones, 
 Forsri't not ; in Thy book record their groans, 
 Who w<rc Thy sheep, and in their ancient fold 
 Slain by the bloody l'iemontese, that roll'd 
 Mother with infant down the rocks " 
 
 7. Notwithstanding all his glory, and his many noble points, 
 the people in general did uot love Oliver. If it were true, as 
 Evelyn thought, that one of the six nations which he was tramp- 
 ling underfoot in the prow of his ship was England, we can well 
 understand the feeling. Nor was it likely that the nation would 
 long submit to be gover 1 by a despotism. There were insur- 
 rections and plots, and the Protector knew that his life was not 
 safe. He took all Borte of precautions; be wore a steel shirt 
 under his clothes ; he never went out unless attended by an esi ort, 
 and seldom came borne by the ame road on which be started. 
 
 He dared not sleep always in the same bed-r n, hut bad several 
 
 different ones, each of which bad a secret door, 
 
 he died a natural death. It was on the day when 
 he bad won two of bis gn il rictories, and winch be a ed to call 
 his "fortunate day." As he looked hack on bis 
 
 emed to he miseivu to parts * , , 
 
 • ■ i ■ i iii-i i ,■ i i i l Death of 
 
 ol his conduct. Be did not know il be had always Q POiawe n J 
 i as befitted a < Ihristian man ; bul Borne of bis 
 words were, ''Truly God is good. He will not leave me; my 
 work is done; God will be with Bis people." 
 
 9 Be was buried in Westminster Abbeywith more pompand 
 honoui - than bad been -lew n to oui greate t kings. II' 
 Richard was dec! u I I 'rotector in hi tead. Richard waa 
 very unlike fade father; be was amiable and harmle , but 
 neither clever nor ambition ; be only fitted for the life 
 
 oJ a quiet country gentleman. The one greal power in the 
 ttry, ( romwell's army, utterly d< pi ed him. Be was very 
 l turned out, and thi old f-ong Parliament, which began to
 
 496 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 be contemptuously called the Rump, was called back once more. 
 Richard never made the least ell'ort t<> keep his high place; he 
 retired very contentedly into private life, and died at last at a 
 good i ili I age. 
 
 10. The soldiers Boon turned the parliament out again, and 
 made a sort of government of their own. England was still under 
 
 the army, and now it was with no Cromwell at its 
 
 The army ] u , a ,i_ This seemed too dreadful for Englishmen to 
 
 Cromwell. endure > and everybody, or nearly everybody, began 
 
 to long for the old constitution back again, under 
 
 which England had been free, orderly, and famous ; not only the 
 
 Cavaliers, but the Presbyterians too, desired to have their king 
 
 back. Only that terrible army, which had never yet been 
 
 beaten, was determined not to have the king back, but to keep 
 
 ili e power in its own hands. 
 
 11. It is difficult to say what could have been done if the 
 army had remained muted; but now that Oliver's firm hand was 
 gone the army began to fall in pieces, and to quarrel within 
 
 If. This gave the opportunity so much needed. The most 
 powerful general left was named Monk, who was at the head of 
 one part of the army, and strongly opposed to the other part. 
 He marched down from Scotland to London. As he came, the 
 people flocked around him, imploring him to restore peace and 
 liberty. The fleet sailed up the Thames, and declared against 
 the tyranny of the soldiers. The Londoners assembled by 
 thousands, clamouring for liberty and a free parliament. The 
 people refused to pay any more taxes, and Monk, who had kept 
 silence hitherto, at last declared his mind, lie .said there should 
 be a free parliament; 
 
 12. Everybody knew that the lirst thing a free parliament 
 would do would be to fetch back the king, and everybody was 
 overjoyed. They lighted bonfires in every street, and all over 
 the country, as tar a- ro the Land's kind ; they rang the church 
 bells i they all hoped freedom and law were coming hack. The 
 Long Parliament met for the last time to issue writs for a new 
 
 i, and then dissolved itself for ever. 
 
 13. Charles II. was now at Breda, in Holland. A fine fleet 
 sent over to bring him back in triumph to the country 
 
 which he had quitted in the little fishing-boat ten 
 
 1660. years before. One of the men in this fleet was 
 
 The king Pepys, who tells all about it in his diary. II" 
 
 13 ba°ek ght sa .V- s he neard that Kin - Charles i "" 1 aU 1,is attend- 
 ants were in a very poor way, both ha- clothes and
 
 xlix.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 497 
 
 money, " their clothes not being worth forty shillings the best of 
 them;" whereas my lords who went to fetch him had very fine 
 things indeed, "as rich as silver and gold can make them." He 
 f'lls us too how overjoyed the king was when Sir J. Grenville 
 brought him some money, even calling his brother ami sister to 
 l<">k at it before it was taken out of the portmanteau. When 
 he was to land at Dover, Pepys followed in a boat, with one of 
 tlii- attendants and "a dog tie- king loved." 
 
 14. The cliffs of Dover were crowded with people; nobles, 
 citizens, men of all sorts, weeping with joy. The mayor pre- 
 aented Charles with a very rich Bible, which he accepted, saying 
 it was "the thing he loved above all things in the world." 
 Would that it had been ! The London ministers gave him a 
 Bible afterwards, and he promised them that it should be the 
 rule of all his actions. 
 
 All along the road from Dover to London it was one continual 
 triumph, flags flying, bells ringing, wine and ale flowing in rivers, 
 ■Is of rejoicing people everywhere. And so he arrived safe 
 in London. " I Btood in the strand and beheld it, and bl 
 the good and pious John Evelyn. 
 
 15. No oneyel knew what the king would be like, or whether 
 he was worthy of all this rapture, it soon began to appear that 
 though lnt had been trained in the school of ad- 
 
 rersity, he had nol learnl wisdom. He was clever Charles n 
 and witty and good natured; those an- his good points. \ 
 In' bad a greai many bad ones. Though he had said he loved 
 the Bible above everything in tin' world, he had not, reli 
 enough to keep him from the moal hameful vices. He was 
 more frightfully and openly immoral than any king we ever 
 had; he was idle and reckless; he was untruthful and ungrate- 
 ful !'■ :• ■■ ■•• rather despondingly after a time " th it tin' 
 king do mind nothing bul pleasures, and hates the very si hi or 
 thoughts of busine If my of tin' ober counsellors give him 
 
 good advice, and move him in anything that is to in | and 
 
 honour, the other part, which are his counsellors of pli i are, 
 i ide him that In- oughl nol to h< ar nor Listen to the advice 
 of those oM dotards." II- profec ed to 1"' a member of the 
 Church of England, as hie father had been, hut in In- hearl he 
 veered about between infidelity and Romanism. On his death* 
 bed In' secretly declared himself a < latholic. 
 
 16. For the present, however, all went well, and, indeed, his 
 charming manners, his wit and pleasantness, made him popular 
 with most of his subjects to th or, 
 
 K K
 
 49S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 they knew, would be much worse than himself. One of his 
 witty courtiers pretending to make his epitaph while he was 
 still alive, wrote — 
 
 " Here lies our sovereign lord the king, 
 "Whose word no man relics on ; 
 Who never said a foolish thing, 
 And never did a wise one." 
 
 1 7. The people in general were the more rejoiced to have the 
 king and the Church of England restored, because the Puritans 
 
 had been so intolerably grim and morose. They 
 Reaction ^ a d p U j. <j own a ij amusements and pleasures, bad 
 
 Puritans. :UK '- g°°d. Not content with forbidding any one to 
 go to church on Christmas Day, and pointing 
 muskets at them as they received the sacrament, they hud 
 ordered it to be observed as a fast day. They had pulled down 
 the may-poles, and forbidden all dancing, bell-ringing, puppet- 
 shows, and the like. As was natural, there was now a great re- 
 action. " May -poles were set up in every cross- way,. and at the 
 Strand, near I hairy Lane, the most prodigious one for height 
 that was perhaps ever seen." Hud it stopped at the may-poles it 
 would have been all very well, but a great many people, and 
 above all, the court, went to the other extreme in far more im- 
 portant matters, and instead of being over religious and strict, 
 gloried in being wicked and dissolute. 
 
 It is almost incredible how shameless the king and the lords 
 and ladies about him were. Things that most men would blush 
 peak of, and which if done at all are done secretly and 
 hidden away, were all public and open. Wicked women were 
 made duches i and complimented and honoured, while virtuous 
 ladies, and the poor queen among them, were slighted and 
 insulted 
 
 18. But we are not to think that the whole nation were like 
 this. Though the follies anil exaggerations of the Puritans were 
 swept away, their good and noble work remained deep-rooted in 
 the hearts of thousands and thousands of Englishmen. In 
 
 ling the various books describing this period, it is perfectly 
 startling to pass from one to another, and to notice the amazing 
 contrast between them. One of our books might be the 
 ' Beauties of the Court of Charles II.,' which is full of stories 
 of the king, and the courtiers, and the fine ladies, and the lives 
 they led ; some of them amusing, but most of them frivolous, 
 listing, and degraded. The next one might be the 'Life of
 
 xlix.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 499 
 
 Mrs. Godolphin,' a lady who, in the midst of that profligate 
 court, was so pure, pious, and charitable that she seems to have 
 really been, as Evelyn thought her, " too blessed a creature to 
 converse with mortals, fitted as she was, by a most holy life, to 
 be received into the mansions above;" or it might be the 'Life 
 of Baxter,' one of the most famous of the Puritan clergy, who 
 wrote ' The Saint's Rest.' His life we find filled with grave and 
 holy thoughts, with wisdom, and unhappily with sufferings and 
 persecutions. It is so wonderful to think of those two sorts of 
 life going on in one country at one time, the intense discordance 
 between every idea, every thought, hope, or belief of the two sets, 
 that one feels instinctively it could not last. Happy for England 
 the grave and God-fearing element proved the enduring one. 
 
 19. A great number of the most respectable of the Presby- 
 terians and their ministers had helped in restoring the king ; and 
 he on his part had made them many promises of toleration and 
 protection. Even if he wished — and it seems, in his careless 
 way, he did rather wish — to keep these promises, the Cavaliers 
 and the Church of England would not let him. They had been 
 perse.- nt i-il by the Puritans when their side of the wheel was 
 down, and now that it was up they were determined to have 
 their revenge. Son ittempts were at first made to reconcile 
 the moderate Pi byterians, such as Baxter, Bowe, and others, 
 with the raoderal I .; i copalians. They had conferences and dis- 
 
 ions, but nothing came of it. Even the m temperate and 
 
 irted among them could uot all believe exactly alike, and 
 could not agree to differ. 
 
 20. The Puritans were terribly per ecuted, Two thousand of 
 their clergy were turned out of their livings and Left pennili 
 They were uot allowed to have chapels or meeting- 
 anyone who attended a Dif tenting meeting, Persecution 
 
 if he were convicted three times, might he transported puritans. 
 for seven years, [f they met ever so quietly in a 
 private bouse, even to pray for a dying person, it would be 
 cdl'-d a conventicle, and they would be imprisoned. 
 
 21. Prisons were not then what they are now, and imprison- 
 ment was no light punishment, tt would fall with double 
 
 lit .on the Puritans. For no offence but worshipping God 
 rding to his conscience, a good, thoughtful, and religious man 
 would be thin t into a eel] crowded with villains and ruffians of 
 the lowest (dass. There, in the midst of oaths and brutality, 
 shocking to hear and see, he would be Left to cold, hunger, 
 nakedness and often death. The state of the prisons was o 
 
 K K 2
 
 500 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 horrible that there was a special fever, known as gaol fever, 
 which even judges and barristers often caught from the prisoners 
 fchey were trying, and of which many of these guiltless men died. 
 
 22. " It was impossible," says Maeaulay, "for the Dissenters to 
 meet together without precautions such as are employed by coiners 
 ami receivers of stolen goods. The places of meeting were fre- 
 quently changed. Worship was performed sometimes just before 
 break of day; sometimes at ilea. I of night. Hound the building 
 where the little flock was gathered sentinels were posted, to give 
 the alarm if a stranger drew near. "The ministetwould have to 
 be disguised as a carter or collier, and would come in through 
 the hack yard in a smock-frock, and with a whip in his hand." 
 With all these precautions, they were often caught and carried to 
 prison. Pepys writes in his diary : " I saw several poor creatures 
 carried by, by constables, for being at a conventicle. They go 
 like lambs, without any resistance. 1 would to God they would 
 either conform . . . or bo more 'vise and not be catched." 
 
 23. John Bunyan, who lived in this reign, and was a tinker 
 
 by trade, was sent to prison for preaching, and kept there twelve 
 
 years. Not very many people perhaps have read 
 1660-72. <The g aint » s Rest) . but everybody has read the 
 
 ' Pilgrim's Progress.' It was during tic-. of imprisonment, 
 
 or having, as he said, "lighted on a certain place where was a 
 den" (Bedford Gaol), that he laid him down and slept, and 
 dream.-. I that wondrous dream. 
 
 24. The Dissenters were kept down in many other ways also. 
 No one was allowed to be mayor of a town, or to hold any ollice 
 
 in a corporation, without, taking the sacrament 
 Test and according to tl of the English Church. No 
 
 01 Acts " x,l< ;l "" u '''' ''' h°ld an y office in the army or 
 
 navy, or any govei nmenl employment, without doing 
 
 on", and declaring that he did not believe in transubstan- 
 
 tiation. 'These acts were .-idled the Test and Corporation Acts. 
 
 Many Dissenters did nol particularly object to receive the 
 
 aneiit in the Church of England now and then; .so that to 
 
 take ollice, to be mad.- a mayor or an a !d.-rman, for instance, 
 
 they would come to church once, and then all the rest oef the 
 
 keep away j and in after times, when their meetings were 
 
 made legal, they would regularly attend their own chapels. 
 
 But the clergy thought this very dreadful, ami complained that 
 
 it wa it hardship to them. to foroe them to administer the 
 
 communion to men whom everybody knew to he Dissenters. 
 
 .Some time afterwards a law was passed forbidding a man to
 
 rax.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 501 
 
 attend a "conventicle," or Dissenting chapel, during the whole 
 time lie hold his office. This tyrannical law, however, did not 
 last long. 
 
 25. The Test Act wag aimed especially against the Roman 
 Catholics, whom the Tories and the Church were quite as willing 
 t i persecute aa they were the Dissenters. But as both Charles and 
 his brother James were in favourof Romanism, they were rather 
 averse to these acts. In fact, they would have liked to fill the 
 army with Catholics, both officers and men, and so to have 
 oppressed the Church of England in its turn. Charles, however, 
 
 more prudent than his brother, and it was not till James's 
 thai this Biatter became really formidable. 
 
 26. Two dreadful misfortunes befell the city of London during 
 the reign of Charles II. The firsl was the Great Plague, 
 which broke out in a more terrible way than had _. p . 
 
 i known for hundreds of years ; since the time 
 
 iud 1 "t the Black Death. The plague was a more frightful 
 
 disease than any that come upon us now; and the doctors did 
 not know how to treat it. The misery and terror of thai awful 
 time can hardly be imagined without reading the letters or 
 diaries of the people who were in the midsl of it. Though this 
 
 the most terrible visitation of all, the plague bad often been 
 in the country before, and the parish registers, written very drily, 
 
 some mo t affecting narratives. In one we read of the 
 
 • f a whole family father, children, brothers, servants. 
 
 When they woe nearly all dead, and there only remained an 
 
 uncle and his nephew, and a servant-girl, "the uncle being sick 
 
 "f the plague, and perceiving 'hat lie must die, and knowing 
 
 bis nephew and the girl would nol be able to bury him " (the 
 neighbours would be afraid to 'I" so, no doubt), " arose oul ol his 
 bed, made his own grave, cauxed bis nephew to put some straw 
 
 it, and went ami laid him down Ln the said grave, and o 
 
 rted out of tin- world." A tew days alter the nephew died, 
 ami lastly the servant-girl j and o the whole family pa 
 
 'V. 
 
 ■_'7. When the pi one into a house they used to mark a 
 
 on the door, and write up, " Lord bave mercy upon us." 
 Pep' the first time he taw this, " much againsl 
 
 In- will," w.i< on a very bol day in June, when be 
 
 ;i on two or three houses ill I »rur\ Land. Soon there were 
 
 hundreds of bouses with thai Bad mark on them. He tells us 
 how the hells were always tolling; people were afraid to Look 
 each other in the (.!•■<■ ; the discourse in the streel was of death,
 
 532 LECTURES ON ENGLISH niSTORY. [lect. 
 
 and nothing else. Nearly all the rich people fled away ; a 
 many of the clergy among them. The shops were shut up, and 
 the whole city desolate. One clergyman who stayed in the midst 
 of it wrote, '• What eye would not weep to see so many habita- 
 tions uninhabited 1 the poor sick not visited, the hungry not 
 i'eil, the grave not satisfied. Death stares us continually in the 
 face ; . . . the coffins are daily and hourly carried along the 
 streets. The hells never cease to put us in mind of our mortality. 
 The custom was in the beginning to hury the dead in the, night 
 only ; now Loth night and day will hardly be time enough to do 
 it." After six months the plague seemed to have spent itself, 
 but more than 100,000 people had perished in that time. 
 
 28. The next year, long before the citizens had had time to 
 recover their courage and spirits, the other awful calamity of the 
 Great Fire came upon them. The greater part of the 
 The Fire h° uses hi the city were still built of wood, and were 
 many of them very old, so that if it once caught 
 fire it was extremely difficult to put out. The fire broke out, 
 they say, accidentally at the king's baker's, in Pudding Lane, 
 and soon spread all round. Pepys, who is generally the most 
 prosaic and matter-of-fact of men, was hurried into a sort of 
 poetry by the excitement. " As it grew darker," he says, " the 
 fire appeared more and more, and in corners and upon steeples, 
 and between churches and houses, as far as we could see up the 
 hill of the city, in a most Imrriil, malicious, bloody flame, n f >t 
 like the fine flame of an ordinary fire. . . . We stayed till, it being 
 darkish, we saw the fire as only one entire arch of fire ... an 
 arch of above a mile long : it made me weep to see it." Evelyn 
 describes it no less vividly. " God grant mine eyes may never 
 behold the like, who now saw above 10,000 houses all in one 
 flame; the noise and cracking and thunder of the impetuous 
 flami hrieking of women and children, the hurry of people, 
 
 the fall of towei's, houses, and churches, was like an hideous 
 st'inn, and the air all about so hot and inilamed that at the last 
 me- was not able to approach it." 
 
 l''.». Tii'- Btreets were full of carts, and the river of barges, in 
 which people were trying to save their things. At last it was found 
 that the only way to stop the lire, which continued burning for 
 three day-, was to blow up many houses with gunpowder, so as 
 to make gaps, beyond which the flames could not spread. The 
 whole city from the Tower to the Temple was destroyed. .St. 
 Paul's Cathedral and innumerable churches were in ashes; and 
 this is the reason why there are .so few really old Gothic churches
 
 \ 
 
 xlix.] THE PROTECTOR AND THE KING. 503 
 
 remaining in London. No doubt the ukl city, with its Gothic 
 cathedral, and its quaint timbered houses, was far more beautiful 
 and interesting than the gaunt London of to-day. Very few 
 lives were lost in this fire, but the property destroyed was enor- 
 mous. "The poor inhabitants were dispersed about St. George's 
 Fields and Moorfields us far as Highgate. . . . Some under 
 3, some under miserable huts and hovels, many without a 
 rag or any necessary utensils, bed or board, who from delicateness, 
 riches, and easy accommodations, in stately and well-furnished 
 blouses, were now reduced to extremest misery and poverty." The 
 booksellers, who lived, as so many do now, in Paternoster Row, 
 
 lost £lf>M.IM)l| in bonks. 
 
 30. But if all this property was burned, it seems that the 
 plague was burnt out too. The picturesque old wooden houses, 
 with small windows that would not open, were very dirty; the 
 infection would never have been got out of them; and after 
 the great lire had destroyed them all, the plague gradually but 
 entirely disappeared.
 
 504 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE L.— THE LAST STUART KINGS. 
 
 Charles and tlie King of France. Progress of learning. Death of Charles. 
 James II. Rebellion <>f Monmouth. The "Bluody Assizes." The 
 kiiiir favours Romanism, and breaks the laws. The seven bishops. 
 Birth of a prince. William of Orange. The flight of James. 
 
 1. In their dismay and excitement after the Great Fire, the 
 people could not believe that it arose by accident; they soon 
 made up their minds that it was the work of the Papists. 
 Numbers of innocent Roman ' latholics were thrown into prison, 
 and though no proofs could ever he found, and no one now 
 imagines that they had anything to do with it, it was publicly 
 1 on th<' tall monument which was built in remembrance 
 of tin- cal unity, that " tin' dreadful burning of this ancient city 
 begun ami carried on by tin' treachery and malice of the 
 Popish faction." Phis inscription was not destroyed till a few 
 go. 
 i'. Similar suspicions went on for many years longer. The 
 intrigues and conspiracies of the Catholics in the days of 
 Elizabeth, the still more terrible ( lunpowder Treason, 
 16 ~ 8 - . had lefl an impression on the minds of the people 
 pi t P1S wfl i cn waa Vl ' r . v s '" vv '" wear itself out. A few 
 years later the whole country was agitated by the 
 :t of a " Popish Plot," the object of which was said to be 
 tinate the king and massacre all the Protestants. Every- 
 body was only too ready to believe it; witnesses came forward 
 to divulge the particulars, and to declare the names of those 
 concerned. The principal witness was one Titus Oates, a man 
 who, besides having a mosl infamous private character, was 
 especially noted for his frequenl changes of religion. Burnet, a 
 bishop who wrote the history of this time, and who saw and 
 conversed with most of the principal people then living, both 
 bad and good, says thai Oates was the son of an Anabaptist, that 
 conversed much with Sociniaus, been mi- a clergyman of the 
 Church of England, and afterwards attached himself to the
 
 l.] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 505 
 
 Jesuit.-. The bishop asked him " what were the arguments 
 that prevailed on him to change his religion, and to go over to 
 the Church of Rome. He upon that stood up and laid his hands 
 on his breast, and said. God ami His holy angels knew that he 
 had never changed, hut that he had gone among them on pur- 
 pose to betray them." Burnet very naturally concluded that 
 •• could have no regard to anything he either said or swore 
 after that" Another of the main witnesses, Bedloe, had led a 
 very vicious life, and "hail made a shift to live on his wits, or 
 rather by his cheal 
 
 3. Nevertheless, so excitable and inflammable were men's minds 
 at that time, that nothing these wretches said, however im- 
 probable or even impossible, seemed too hard to credit, even 
 though they could never bring one scrap of evidence to hear out 
 what they declared. The whole country, high and low, rich and 
 poor, Beemed bewitched, ami mad with terror and rage. They 
 believed everything. Oat« and Bedloe swore thai two Jesuits 
 had undertaken to shoo! the king, for which deed one of them 
 was t i receive 61500; the other, "being a pious mm," was to 
 have 30,000 ma jes, at one shilling a mass! These Jesuits, and 
 many others, protesting their innocence with their latest breath, 
 w.Te pni to death. 
 
 4. A nobleman, standing in the House of Lords, not only 
 expressed his wish that there should not be a Popish man or 
 woman left in the country, but said he would not have even a 
 Popish dog, " not so much as a Popish cat to purr and mew about 
 the kin.'." For this speech be was much applauded. When 
 Burnel tried t" save the life of an innocent Roman Catholic 
 gentleman, whose name had been dragged into the supposed 
 
 . he was "railed at with open mouth," and told that he 
 
 ily studied lo save him for the liking lie. had to any one that 
 
 Id murder the king." 
 
 In tie' mill t of n all, ,i Protestant trate, who had 
 
 heard some of the so-called evidence, died or was murdered in 
 
 some mysterious way, which has never been explained. His 
 
 death w oitly laid on the Pa] I , and the oeca Ion of his 
 
 funeral cite the I md fury of the | pli 
 
 Gartner, It was described very oddly by a man who, il he did 
 no! see it himself says he was informed of it by tho ■■ who did. 
 '• Every one almost fancied a Popish knife at his throat; and at 
 
 the sermon, beside the preacher, two thumping divines m I 
 
 upright in the pulpit to guard him from being killed, while he 
 was preaching, by the Papists. ... A most portentous spectacle
 
 506 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 sure," he remarks ', "three parsons in one pulpit! Enough of 
 itself, on a like occasion, to excite terror in the audience." 
 
 AVe can hardly believe thai a frenzy like this could beset the 
 sober English nation, so proud of its love of fair play and even- 
 handed justice ; but notwithstanding the degraded and infamous 
 character of the witnesses, still their testimony and their false 
 naths were believed, and many innocent Roman Catholics -were, 
 put to death before the tide turned, and the nation became 
 ashamed of its credulity. 
 
 G. Though this plot most likely never existed except in the 
 imagination of the people, and the wicked brains of the false, 
 witnesses, it was true that the Protestant religion and the honour 
 of England were both in greal danger in the unworthy hands of 
 Charles II. He and his brother James, the Duke of York, with 
 numbers of Romish priests and Jesuits, were secretly labouring 
 to re-convert the country, and to subdue what they called the 
 "pestilent heresy of Protestantism." Charles was in secret 
 league with the King of France, who was eager to help forward 
 in the design. 
 
 7. This king, Louis XIV., was perhaps the most remarkable 
 man in Europe. His long reign extended over a period during 
 
 which England was ruled in succession by no less 
 louis Aiv. ^] ian Beven ],„,,,;,,, hs, including Oliver Cromwell. 
 
 Dining the earlier part of that time he was too 
 young to govern, bu1 he began t<> do so in earnest about the 
 same time that Charles 1 1, was recalled. Louis spent his whole life 
 in endeavouring to exalt and enlarge the kingdom of France at 
 the expense of any other country which stood in his way. 
 Another of his great aims, though he did not pursue it so 
 lily as the first, was to further the Catholic religion and 
 subdue the Protestants. A great part of the history of England 
 during his life depended on the feeling with which our rulers 
 regarded Loins, whether they were his friends or his enemies. 
 
 8. It is easy to see that the whole national spirit of England 
 would have led her to oppose Louis and his objects; that she 
 would neither allow France to become overwhelmingly powerful 
 by swallowing up all her neighbours, nor sutler the Protestant 
 religion to be crushed. Charles, who had hardly the heart of 
 an Englishman, did not care ibr either. He made secret treaties 
 with Louis, received biibes and pensions from him, and sold 
 Dunkirk, of which the English were so proud, to the French. 
 The people, who knew something of all this, and guessed more, 
 writhed with shame and displeasure.
 
 l.] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 507 
 
 9. A war broke out with Holland, "caused," as Evelyn says, 
 "by no provocation, but that the Hollanders exceeded us in com- 
 merce and industry, and in everything but envy," which added 
 to the general humiliation, The war was an unfortunate one, 
 and the Dutch ships sailed up the Medway, burned the English 
 vessels, and blockaded the Thames; "a dreadful spectacle as ever 
 
 [an 1 saw, ami a dishonour never to be wiped off." After 
 tins disgrace, for a shorl time England allied herself, as was her 
 evident duty and interest, with the Protestant powers Holland 
 and Sweden, and they all hound themselves together to resist the 
 encroachments of France. This was called the Triple Alliance, 
 but it <1M doI lasl Long. Charles soon fell back under the influ- 
 ence of Louis and Ids bribes, and at last might really almost be 
 called a paid pensioner of France. It was no wonder that, as 
 Pepya tells as, the people began to wish for Oliver back again. 
 
 10. It was, moreover, feared that things would be worse still 
 wleui the king died, and his hrother James, who was an avowed 
 Romanist, inherited the throne. Some attempts were even made 
 in parliament to exclude him from the succession ; hut they were 
 
 lul, and the king, being angry at the idea, would not 
 permit parliament to meel lor four years. Now the Whigs in 
 their turn began to devise insurrections and plots, one of which 
 was called the Rye Eouse Plot, for assassinating the 
 king and the Duke of fork. In the punishments 1682. 
 which followed the discovery of this plot, as was so The Rye- 
 often theca e, the innocenl Buffered with the guilty; House plot - 
 
 two very noble-minded men in particular, I I William Russell 
 
 and Algernon Sidney, are believed to have been convicted on 
 false evidence. 
 
 1 1 Whilst, public affairs were, going on in this disturbed and 
 di honourable way, an event, had taken place very quietly 
 which, it has been aid, "might have loomed larger 
 than the Plague, and have outshone the glare of the 1682. 
 Fire: a something fraughl with a wealth of benefi- «! Ro / al 
 
 ... . , , • , , Socmty. 
 
 cence to mankind, m comparison with which the 
 damage done by those ghastly evila would shrink into ii, 
 nificance." This was the gathering to ether of -i little band of 
 students for the purpose of "improving natural knowledge." 
 The work which Roger Bacon bad begun, which Francis Bacon 
 had carried on, was beginning to Bpread; the seed they had 
 sown was growing up mto a great free. What these young 
 philosophers proposed was in strict accordance with the advice 
 of Lord Bacon. Hey intended to study the works and ways of
 
 50S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lbot. 
 
 nature: astronomy, chemistry, anatomy, magnetism, the spots 
 on the sun, and -'(livers cither things of like nature;" ami all 
 this by really looking and observing what the facts were, not by 
 imagining what they ought to be. Two wonderful instruments 
 had lately come into use for helping them in their work, the 
 telescope and the microscope. Though telescopes had been per- 
 haps invented so long ago by Roger Bacon, they were not under- 
 stood or made any use of till the sixteenth or seventeenth 
 century, and one of the first things these students set themselves 
 to do was to improve them. Microscopes were first invented 
 about lf)90, and exhibited in London 1G20. 
 
 1.2. The students formed themselves into a society which is 
 -till the most learned and important Philosophical Society in 
 Knglaud, the RoyT Society. When Charles had nothing better 
 i r worse to do, he was fond of seeing the experiments of the 
 philosophers, if they were not too difficult, and patronized them 
 as far as be could. The Royal Observatory in Greenwich Park 
 
 dso founded in this reign. 
 Intelligent people who began to work and study in this way 
 soon casl aside many of the strange old beliefs of; which weheard 
 bo much in the more ignoranl ages. Evelyn, who was one of the 
 first members of the Royal Society, every now and then says 
 something in his diary which shows how great a change was 
 
 Lngover men's minds. "April 29 was that celebrated eclipse 
 of the sun, so much threatened by the astrologers, and which had 
 so exceedingly alarmed the whole nation that hardly any one 
 would work or stir out of their houses. So ridiculously were 
 they abused by knavish and ignorant star-gazers." Put though 
 he adopts bo hold and enlightened a tone about eclipses, he 
 
 inxea dubious and cautious when it come3 to meteors and 
 
 I! aw a meteor one night "of an obscure bright 
 
 colour, very much in shape like the blade of a sword. . . . 
 
 What this may portend God only knows, . . . I pray God avert 
 
 Hi- judgments. We have had of late several comets, which 
 though, I believe, appear from natural causes, and of themselves 
 not, yet I cannot despise them; they may be warnings 
 from God." He is not sure what to think of alchemy either. 
 He tell a story of a certain person "of very low stature," who by 
 tains of powder into a crucible converted alum]) 
 of lead into four ounces of good gold. "This Antonio asserted," 
 fays he, " with great obtestation ; nor know I what to think of 
 it; there are - i many impostors and people who love to ttdl 
 strange stKHaea,"
 
 l] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 509 
 
 13. The belief in witches had also begun to die out among the 
 educated classes, though even among those many hardly knew 
 what to think, and most of the people believed in them as firmly 
 as ever their forefathers had done. Any poor old woman who was 
 ugly and cross and wretched euough ran a good chance of being 
 
 ;oned a witch ; and if she once got that reputation, every mis- 
 fortune which happened in the parish was laid on her shoulders. 
 [f the dairy-maid could not make the butter coma it was because 
 tin- witch was at the bottom of the churn; if a horse was tired 
 or ill the witch had Icon on his hack; if a hunted hare escaped 
 from the hounds the huntsman swore at the witch. If the poor 
 old creature made a mistake at church, or said Amen in the 
 Wrong place, that was a sign that she was saying her prayers 
 backwards, and was in league with the devil. It was well for 
 
 her if sh leaped being ducked in a pond, 01 otherwise tormented 
 
 by the frightened and angry country people. There was, indeed, 
 still a law which condemned witches to death, and three miserable 
 
 itures were actually hung nol long after this. 
 
 14, At last the king, who had been welcomed to hia country 
 with such tears of joy and rapture, but who had done so little 
 
 nv of the nation's love, ended his inglorious 
 reign. lyn, who had blessed God at sight Death f 
 
 of his coming, tells us in a few solemn lines of Charles II. 
 his end. "I can ueveT forgei the inexpressible 
 luxury and prol lining and all dissoluteness, and, as it 
 
 were, total forgetfulne oi God (it being Sunday evening) which 
 this day ae'nnighl I was witness of : the kin toying with 
 
 his concubines, Portsmouth, Cleaveland, &o. j a French boy 
 Binging love-songs in thai [loriou gallery; while about twenty of 
 the greal a and other dissolute persona were at basset 
 
 round a large table, a bank of ai leasl £2000 in gold b 
 them. . . . Si ( da.} i after all wn in t he dual ! " 
 
 I 5 '.' ■ thai inding all hi vicea and all hi i meanness, it waa 
 
 i nne when I died. I lis brother, 
 
 who was the next heir, waa v sry unpopular, dreaded n 
 
 and disliked by nearly all the country. Not only 
 
 Roman < latholic (which was at any ra <• 
 
 better than being hy] illy and secretly), bul he was 
 
 also cruel, revengeful, and obstinate. Nor waa he clever like 
 ( " 1 1. 1 1 les, nor in any way pleasant or jo "1 nal ured. So much wa 
 his religion dreaded, that there had been an idea, as we saw, of 
 excluding him from the throne. He was, however, made 
 without any opposition, promising to defend the Church I
 
 510 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect, 
 
 England and the laws of the laud. A letter written at the time 
 of his accession, says that it was " his constant discourse that he 
 would not in the least disturb the established government of the 
 Church." These promises he spent the greater part of his short 
 reign in breaking. 
 
 1G. Charles II., though he had left no lawful child, had left 
 several illegitimate ones, one of whom, the Duke of Monmouth, 
 was handsome, gay, and attractive, and a great 
 The Duke of f avour ite with the people. He was generally, though 
 not correctly, believed to be a legitimate prince, and 
 it, was thought that the king had been secretly married to his 
 mother abroad. He was now living on the Continent, and 
 numbers of discontented Whigs, who had been banished for 
 plotting in Charles's reign, and who longed to come home again, 
 persuaded this unfortunate young duke to invade the west of 
 England, and proclaim himself king instead of James. They 
 hoped that many of the nobility and gentry would join him at 
 once, since they were greatly averse to a Roman Catholic king. 
 But it was not so. Many poor men and tradespeople joined 
 him, calling him "King Monmouth," but none of the upper and 
 wealthy classes. The old-fashioned Cavaliers or Tories, though 
 they were sound and zealous Protestants, were loyal to the royal 
 family, and thought it a sin to resist the king. Amongst those 
 who took Monmouth's part and fought in his army was Daniel 
 Defo*-. lie' author of 'Robinson Crusoe,' and the ' History of the 
 Great Plague.' After a few weeks a hat-lie was fought and 
 
 ,„_- Monmouth defeated at a place called Sedgemoor, 
 near Bridgewater. This battle is well worth remem- 
 bering. It was the last one (worth calling a battle) that was ever 
 ht in England. Perhaps do other of the great countries of 
 Europe has ever passed l' 1 ' 1 ) years without seeing many and 
 terrible : Heaven grant England may never see another. 
 
 17. Alter this rebellion James II. had the opportunity of 
 i his character by the way he treated his conquered 
 subjects. Xo one could exactly wonder that Monmouth (though 
 his own nephew) and the other Leaders of the rebellion were 
 beheaded ; but every one wondered and shuddered at the hor- 
 rible cruelty with which the misguided peasants were punished. 
 The soldiers who had won the battle were left to do as they 
 liked for a time, and treated their prisoners with shocking 
 brutality, hanging and quartering, and boiling the bodies in 
 pitch. These soldiers were under a savage colonel named 
 Kirke, and had a banner with the sacred Lamb upon it, in token
 
 l.] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 511 
 
 of their special Christianity ! They were afterwards hitterly 
 known as Kirke's Lambs. 
 
 18. After the soldiers went away the poor people of those 
 parts were given over to still more cruel punishment. A judge 
 was sent down to hold the assizes. The judge was 
 
 even more brutal than the colonel. His name, the j *^ e 
 name of Judge Jeffreys, is remembered with horror 
 to this very day. The assizes that he held were called the 
 Bloody Assizes. Jeffreys boasted that he hanged more traitors 
 than any judge had ever hanged before. It is to be hoped his 
 was true, for in one month he hanged .'520 persons (some 
 many more), and transported into slavery more than 800. 
 
 19. The first person whom he sentenced to death was a lady, 
 who had done no worse than help two poor hunted men to 
 
 ;.<•, who had lulu kind and pitiful, just as other women had 
 been to his brother Charles, when he too was trying to escape 
 for hi-: life. < Mic of the last was a woman, also, who had com- 
 mittal tin- same crime. With her last breath "she thanked 
 
 God thai Hi' had enabled le'r to SUCCOUr the desolate, and that 
 
 tie' blessing of tho e who were ready to perish came upon her." 
 There was one good man who tried to stand between the vic- 
 tim- and their murdering judge, — their bishop; one whose name 
 
 is still known to u- as tie' author of • iiiu-i dear and familiar 
 
 morning and evening hymns, " Awake, my soul," and " Glory 
 to Thee, my God, tin night." Bi bop Ken, being grieved to 
 
 the I at the slaughter among his hapless flock, did all he 
 
 could to move the king to pity; but it was all in vain. Judge. 
 Jeffn left unchecked to carry on his work. 
 
 20. When In- had been jn ;i town, terrifying and browbeat- 
 ing the captured rebels and their witnesses, and pronouncing 
 
 his barbarous sentences, there would next come ai lei to the 
 
 mayor requiring and commanding him forthwith to erect a 
 gallows for the ion of the condemned persons; it mi 
 
 be ten or twelve pei ons, or It might be fifty or sixty. Nor 
 were tho e who were put to death even decently buried. The 
 horrible en torn in tho e daj was to expo e the heads and bodii 
 of the mi i raid'' culpril ■ In public pla ■ to trike terror 
 
 Into the hearl of the beholders. The order for erecting the 
 gallows would be followed by the most cold-blooded directions 
 how to di pose of the bodies among the Tillages round aboul ; 
 two quarters and one bead bere, lour quarters and one bead 
 there; some near the windmill, some on the bridge. " In many 
 parishes the peasantry could not assemble in the bou e of God
 
 512 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [mot. 
 
 without seeing the ghastly ran.' of a neighbour (perhaps of a 
 husband, brother, or father) over the porch." In the midst of 
 sights like this grew up the innocent children of those western 
 counties. It. is no wonder that they never forgot it, and that 
 the hatred with winch Judge Jeffreys was regarded endured from 
 generation to generation. The king whom Bishop Ken had 
 tried to move to compassion was delighted with all this. Jeffreys 
 said afterwards that if James were inclined to blame anything, 
 il was that the punishments were not severe enough. Winn 
 Jeffreys returned to London he was received with a hearty wel- 
 i ome, and appointed Lord I Chancellor in reward for his services. 
 
 21. lining thus put down and abolished both the rebellion 
 and tin' rebels, the king thought to have all his own way. He, 
 , in his turn, determined to lie an absolute king, to 
 government llla ' a ' ;UM unmake laws at his pleasure; above all, 
 to crush the Church of England, and once more make 
 Romanism Bupreme. The one thing which the nation hated 
 uas tin- idea of a standing army. They had by no means 
 Men the despotism of Cromwell and his soldiers, and they 
 dreaded and detested the notion of having a separate soldier-class 
 at all. It has been gradually found that, considering the 
 immense armies kept up in foreign lands, England could never 
 hold her own unless she too had her army always ready, and regu- 
 larly trained and disciplined ; though, thanks to " the silver sea, 
 which serves it in the office of a wall," and our "wooden walls," 
 or iron walls, as we now have to call them, we do not need -neb 
 immense hosts as other countries think themselves obliged to 
 maintain. 
 
 'l'l. In defiance of the feeling of the nation, which was per- 
 haps strongest of all among the Tories, the old friends and 
 Supporters of the royal house, and far more to 
 rawe his own people than to defend them from 
 any foreign foe, James set up a large army, which soon amounted 
 to 30,000 men, without tin- consent "I Parliament. Not con- 
 tent with this, in defiance of the laws he had promised to defend, 
 he filled this army with Roman Catholic officers. The Pope 
 himself, who was at this time ,, very good and reasonable man, 
 tried to persuade James to be less violent and arbitrary, but all 
 in vain. 
 
 23. The Tories and tin- (lunch tried to submit. The Church 
 bad bee,, teaching for a long time that doctrine of James I. 
 about the sinfulness of resisting any king, however bad a one he 
 might be; and tiny could not see their way to opposing him.
 
 L.] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 513 
 
 There was, however, one great hope in store for them. The king 
 had two daughters, who, by the orders of their uncle, Charles 
 II., had been brought up as Protestants, and who were both very 
 
 rely attached to the Church of England. One of them 
 was married to her first cousin, William, Prince of Orange, who 
 was at the head of all the Protestants abroad. As the king had 
 )i" son, and was now growing elderly, it seemed in the course of 
 nature that he would soon die, and his daughter Mary be queen. 
 23. The bishops and clergy, and Tory gentry, therefore, tried 
 to be patient and wait for the end, which would soon come 
 peaceably they hoped. But James was so blind and 
 infatuated that he went on doing all he could to . . . 
 alienate them, till they could bear it no longer. His 
 n>-xt aggression was against the rights of the universities, which 
 the special glory of the Church, and might lie called the 
 ecclesiatical capitals of the kingdom. According to the laws, no 
 bolic could hold any olliee in either of them. The 
 king, however, began to force members of his own Church upon 
 th' in. A Roman Catholic was made Dean of Christ Church, 
 one of tli>- wealthiest and most honourable posts at Oxford. A 
 
 idictine monk was sent down to Cambridge to bo made 
 M iter of Arts. The Vice Chancellor and other 
 authorities resisted ; they said it was against, the law 
 
 one to a degree who would not take the oaths. 
 They were Bummoned to appear before tin' tribunal of the Lord 
 Chancellor .1 .11 1 •• \ -,. Anion- those who stood before the bar 
 
 one whose noble, grave, and beautiful face was the true 
 symbol of his lite and character tie'. Professor of 
 Mathematics in tie' university, Sir [saac Newton. s ' r Isaac 
 His great work, which will lasl ae loir./ as tin', world ow on ' 
 
 i , was jn t, about being published, with tie sanction and 
 
 encouragement of the Royal Society ; he was ever on the side of 
 liberty and the Protestant religion. What did all that matter 
 to the brutal and ignorant Jeffreys 1 The Vice Chancellor was 
 deprived of all his offices and income; and the other d 
 Newton among them, were dismi ed, the Chancellor aying, in 
 nsolent way. that he would Bend them away wit i i\ of 
 Scripture, "Sin no more, le I a worse thing happen nut., you." 
 1 I he hut, have Looked on a few yeai a hundred years — 
 a thousand years and seen himself and the man he insulted 
 
 as they stood Hi the esteem and lent of all the World ! 
 
 •J i. Ait r this the king interfered in the election of the Presi- 
 dent of Magd tiding down in ion 
 
 L L
 
 514 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 and commanding the Fellows to elect two of the most unfit men 
 he could find in the whole kingdom ; the one secretly, the oilier 
 openly, a Roman Catholic. When the Fellows had the courage 
 and firmness to resist, "many horrible rude reflections" being 
 made upon the king's authority, said one who heard their debates, 
 they were turned out of their fellowships, and many of them 
 reduced to the utmost poverty.* 
 
 25. All this roused the indignation of the Tories and the 
 Church to such a point that their favourite doctrine of passive 
 
 obedience was strained almost to breaking. As the 
 
 The Church ^- was determined to persevere in his course, and 
 
 unci tils 
 Dissenters, to put Catholics into all the most important posts in 
 
 the kingdom, and as he could get no support, though 
 as yet there was no open resistance, from the Church or the 
 Tories, he was obliged to try and make friends with the Dissent 
 ers, and pretend that he wished for liberty of conscience to all. 
 But the Dissenters knew very well what he really wished, and 
 when he talked of indulgence they knew what his indulgence 
 meant. He had given a specimen of that in the way he and his 
 at, Claverhouse, had treated their brethren, the Covenant- 
 in Scotland. Directly he began to reign he passed, a law 
 enacting that any one in that country who preached in a " con- 
 venticle" under a roof, any one who even attended a preaching 
 or prayer-meeting in the open air, should be put to death. The 
 horrible brutality with which these poor innocent people were 
 pursued, tortured, banged, and drowned, all in the name of 
 religion, mighl have made Oliver turn in his grave. Though 
 there was no .Milton now to write or pray in their behalf, it was 
 Long remembered how those martyrs went to their death with 
 words of trust and praise on their lips, 
 
 26. Now James tried to get the Dissenters in England to 
 fake his part by promising them freedom and protection, lie 
 declared that all the laws against, liberty of conscience should be 
 repealed, and commanded the bishops and clergy to read the 
 declaration in all the Churches in the kingdom. The bishops, 
 whether they approved of these liberal sentiments or not, knew 
 very well that no King of England had a right to make or un- 
 make laws at his pleasure; they knew too that, though he pre- 
 tended to wish every one's conscience to be free, he only meant 
 in his heart that the Roman Catholics should be free, for he had 
 shown it in all his actions. 
 
 27. The Dissenters knew it too, and for once they and the 
 Church of England joined heartily together in defence of the
 
 l] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 515 
 
 Protestant religion and the liberty of Englishmen. Seven 
 bishops who were on the spot refused to read the Declaration of 
 Indulgence, or to tell their clergy to do so. One 
 of the seven was the Archbishop of Canterbury; The seven 
 another was the good Bishop Ken. It was no doubt 1S ops ' 
 a bitter moment to them when they found they must either op- 
 the king or consent to his ruining the Church and the 
 liberties of England. They acted very cautiously and respectfully. 
 They laid a petition before James, in which they assured him that 
 their hesitation did not proceed from any want of duty or 
 obedience to his Majesty, ''our Holy Motherthe Church of Eng- 
 land," they said, " being both in her principles and her constant 
 practice unquestionably loyal ;" but yet they declared that they 
 could not in prudence, honour, or conscience publish his 
 ! nation of Indulgence. The king was very angry ; he called 
 the petition a libel, and said he was the king, and would be 
 obeyed. Bis Jesuit confessor, Father Petre, "seemed now as 
 
 one transported with joy ;" he thought the time was < ie (as 
 
 indeed it was) when the- king would break with the Church of 
 England. 
 
 28. The whole nation looked on breathless. Nearly all the 
 followed the bishops' lead. Nol above 200 in the whole 
 
 country could be found to read the Declaration; and of these 
 many did it in a way which would not have pleased the king much 
 had be heard it. Some "declared in their sermons, that though 
 they obeyed the order, they did not approve of the Declaration . 
 
 and one, more pleasantly than gravely, told bis i pie that 
 
 though he was obliged to read it, they were not obliged to hear 
 
 it ; and he Btopped till they all went out, and then he read it to 
 
 the walls." The Dean of Westminster could hardly hold the. 
 proclamation in his hand for trembling, and "everybody looked 
 under a strange consternation." The king, in thi 
 indignation at, being thwarted in his will, sent, all the seven 
 l.i hops to the Tower. The Londoners were in wild excitement 
 
 at seeing the king and the Church in this opposition to i 
 
 another •, hut tie re ■■■■ as no d mi ht. in their minds which was right. 
 Rich and poor crowded around the bi hop to i heei and honour 
 
 them, and to ask their blessing, 
 
 29. The king, neverthele -, wa as blind and •{•■'_'.•] as ever. 
 He caused the bi hops to be brought up to trial, The agitation 
 
 of all the] pie rose higher and higher, When it was known 
 
 thai, after a long trial the bishops WOW aeijuitted. the who! 
 
 tilled with shouts of joy and triumph. The king heard his 
 
 L L 2
 
 516 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 own soldiers shouting too. "So much the worse for them," be 
 said. Even then he bad not perception enough to say, " So much 
 the worse for me." 
 
 30. In the midst of all this excitement the queen gave birth 
 son. This was the last and hardest blow of all. A sun 
 
 would, "I' course, succeed his father in preference to 
 The birth of a daughter ; and the birth of this unfortunate child 
 
 put an end t<> all tin- hopes which had been so long 
 cherished that the Princess Mary of Orange would quietly take 
 her father's place. The new-born prince would be brought up a 
 Roman Catholic, and there would be no end to tyranny and 
 oppression. It was believed by greai numbers of people that he 
 was not really the son of the king and queen, but was brought 
 into the palace in a warming-pan. and imposed upon the country 
 a prince, though no one believes l hat story now. 
 
 31. In despair a message was secretly sent over the sea to 
 William, Prince of < >range, to come to the rescue, with the pro- 
 mise that if he would once show himself the people would rise 
 in his support. 
 
 William wished for nothing better; he came with an army of 
 15,000 men. and landed <>n the lit'. 1 • of November at Torhay, in 
 ! > vonshhe. It was some time before any nobles or 
 William, men of importance joined his standard, so much so, 
 Prince of j n , i,. ( .,i t] ia t a t one moment he seems even to have 
 thought of returning; l!y degrees, however, they 
 began to gather around him. The northern counties also arose in 
 hi- cause, and he advanced from Exeter with a Large tram of 
 English adherents. James came to meet him as far as Salisbury 
 in a pitiable state of fear and uncertainty. One after another of 
 his friends, or those whom he thought his friends, dropped oil' 
 from him. Hi- second daughter, Anne, who had always lived at 
 court with her husband, the Prince of Denmark, tied from the 
 e at Whitehall. Many even of the officers of his army 
 joined the Prince of Orange. One of these, and the most im- 
 portant of all, was the very general who had won the victory of 
 . and who was afterwards known a- the greatest com- 
 mander of his age, John Churchill, Duke of Marlborough. 
 James had always treated him with the utmost confidence and 
 kindness, and had raised him up from being a mere obscure 
 high honours and dignities, yet he now betrayed and 
 I him in his utmost need. Churchill and his wife were 
 ■ rest friends of the Princess Anne, and it was through 
 their influence that she had abandoned her father.
 
 i,.] THE LAST STUART KINGS. 517 
 
 32. James was so utterly disconcerted and disheartened by all 
 these desertions that he returned to London without striking a 
 blow, sent off his wife and young child secretly to 
 France, and in a few days escaped thither himself. 1688. 
 This was tin- happiest thing possible for William, London! 
 who <-ame to London, having fought no battle, and 
 shed no blood, not as a conqueror, but as a friend and deliverer. 
 
 (Tote, line 7, paj*e 514: The common people in the streets, says Collcy 
 Cibber, talked with tin- utmost freedom ami contempt '"of his wild 
 measuri . and sail that ''t<> drive all England into Popery and slavery, 
 be would lind would be teaching an old Lion to dance."
 
 LECTURES <>\ ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 LECTURE LI— THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 
 
 Effects of the Revolution. William and Mary. Religious toleration. 
 The war in Ireland. The French fleet invades England. Liberty of 
 the press. Death of James II. The French king proclaims Prince 
 James King of England. Death of William. 
 
 1. This Revolution, the (11 rrious Revolution, as it was proudly 
 
 called, was the final victory of He' liberty of England. All 
 
 through our history there had been at intervals con- 
 
 ^ he . flicts and struggles between the power and rights of 
 
 Revo ution. ^ ^.^ ^ ^ p 0wer aQ( j r ights of the people. 
 
 Now it was made clear, once and for ever, to both king ami 
 people, thai a sovi n could not reign in England unless he 
 reigned for the good of tint people ; and that, he, as much as the 
 of his subjects, was bound by the laws of the land. 
 
 •_'. All the things that the Stuarts had been struggling for 
 so obstinately and bo blindly had to he resigned for ever. It 
 
 v ,- se more laid down clearly by Act of Parliament that the 
 
 kiiiu could raise no money except l>y consent of the represent- 
 atives of the people; that lie might keep no standing army 
 without tie' consent of parliament ; that, parliament was to he 
 elected freely without the kmg interfering; that, when elected, 
 parliameul was to lie allowed to discuss matters freely without 
 the king interfering; that the people might offer petitions, if 
 they fell themselves aggrieved, without being punished for it ; 
 that the judges wen not- to he aet up and put down according to 
 tic king's ph-a -ii re. l»i it to continue in their offices as long as they 
 judged wisely, justly, and mercifully ; that no man, rich or poor, 
 
 •uld be put in prison for asingle day by the arbitrary will of 
 the king : thai the king had no power to make or unmake laws 
 wi the agreement of the parliament. Lastly, it was settled 
 
 that, in future. no one but a Protestant should be king or queen 
 
 ud. 
 I; William and Mary had been tyrants, perhaps they 
 . thought a crown and an authority limited like this
 
 li. J THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 519 
 
 were hardly worth accepting; but they were wise enough to 
 know how much greater, happier, and safer it is to be the 
 honoured guardians of a free and united people than to be 
 despotic rulers, feared and hated by slaves and rebels. 
 
 4. This was the last great struggle in English history ; there 
 have been changes since then, sometimes discontent, sometimes 
 here and there a riot ; but the liberty and harmony of the nation 
 have gone on gradually increasing. The rulers have cared more 
 and more for the welfare of the people; they have seen ever 
 in"!" and more plainly the wisdom of being at one with them, 
 and bringing their own will into harmony with the will of the 
 nation. Perhaps the sovereign who has been the wisest of all 
 in this respect, who has seen most clearly the position of a 
 constitutional sovereign, has been Queen Victoria, who has been 
 rewarded by a constant love and Loyalty. 
 
 5. And this great Revolution was brought about peaceably 
 
 and legally. The, ] pie, even when mostexcited and enraged, 
 
 were content with pulling down Roman Catholic chapels, burn- 
 ing crucifixes, vestments, and images of the Pope, and did no 
 harm to a single person. The only one they even wished to 
 injure (and they may Burely be forgiven for that) was Judge 
 Jeffreys. II" was caught in the disguise of a collier, trying to 
 
 pe from the country, dragged before the Lord Mayor, who 
 fell i nt 'i lit at the Bight of him, and finally carried to the Tower. 
 It was hard work to gel him there; the crowds on all sides pur- 
 sue. 1 ins coach howling with rage, brandishing cudgels, and 
 holding up halters iii his sight. What a contrast to the day when 
 n bishops had been taken to the Tower, in the midst of 
 thousands of weeping people, a king their blei ing and pray- 
 
 : irthem. Even in this world we sometimes see bad men 
 and good men get their deserts. This wretch was not, how- 
 ever, put to deathj he was kept in the Tower till he died there 
 bly. 
 
 6. William, who had a wonderful intellect, steadiness, and 
 tion, with many other of the noblest qualities "I a ruler, 
 nol pei onally much I i 1< • -< 1 in England. The W11 - 
 
 i James II., had Lived in a kind of 
 
 intimacy and familiarity with the pc.pl" which William never 
 attempted. II • had cold and di tant manners, winch were a 
 wonderful contrast to tho y and good-humoured 
 
 Charles. Evelyn say- he had a manly, courageou , and wise 
 countenance; bul wa tately, serious, and reserved. II" was 
 fonder of England than I i him; indeed, he
 
 520 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lkct. 
 
 ^1 it a villanous country, and to the end of his days he 
 greatly preferred Holland, which we might be more inclined to 
 call a villanous or, at least, a very ugly country. But the flatter 
 a land was the better it was thought in those days. The Alps 
 were looked upon as the place where nature had swept up the 
 rubbish of the world to form and clear the plains of Loin hardy. 
 
 7. William also very naturally liked his old Dutch friends 
 better than his new English ones, and aifronted the people, as so 
 many kings had dime before, by giving great rewards and honours 
 to these foreigners. Only he was unlike the other kings who 
 had done that, by not having worthless favourites. His friends 
 were all wise, faithful, and good men, whose only fault was 
 that they were not Englishmen. Nevertheless, though the 
 English grumbled a great deal, as Englishmen will, and gave 
 William a very troublesome reign, they were wise enough to 
 know his value, and when there was any real danger of losing 
 him, and getting James back, they always forgot their discontents 
 and rallied around him. 
 
 8. Mary was a most devoted wife. She was good and pious, 
 and winning in her manners ; but it shocked the feelings of the 
 
 people to see her supplant, and aid her husband in 
 
 supplanting, her own father. There was something 
 painful and hear; less in the pleasure she exhibited in taking 
 possession of the palace of her father, and sitting in the seat 
 of her step-mother. It was said that she did this in order to 
 show that she thoroughly sympathized with her husband, and 
 that she was only acting a part ; but her behaviour, says a looker- 
 on, "was censured by many." She gradually, however, won 
 much love and affection in the country, and was a wise and 
 gentle (pii-en. Her court was a great contrast to that of Charles 1 
 J I. One of her greatest friends, liishop Burnet, wrote of her 
 that "she set a great example to the whole nation, which shines 
 in every part of it." One of her principal marks of wisdom, he 
 jiders, was that "she took ladies off from that idleness which 
 ie.t only wasted their time, but exposed them to many tempta- 
 tions. . . . tSlie engaged many both to read and work." 
 
 'J. Now at last something like charity and humility appeared 
 in the laws respecting religion. The persecution of the 1 »is- 
 
 seriters came to an end. William hated religious 
 Religious tyranny, and wished all peaceable and innocent 
 
 people in his kingdom to feel safe and free. He 
 would have wished to repeal the Test and Corporation Acts, 
 which had so hampered and galled both Dissenters and Roman
 
 li.] THE REVOLUTION AND KIXG WILLIAM. 521 
 
 < 'u; holies ; but being in these matters wiser than the country at 
 e, he could not succeed in doing so. Parliament 'would not 
 consent to repeal those acts, and when William wished to extend 
 some toleration to the Roman Catholics, it would not consent to 
 that either ; indeed, some more grievances were added to those 
 they had already, and very harsh laws were enacted against 
 them. These laws do not seem, however, to have been very 
 rigorously executed 
 
 l'». Tli liters were now permitted, under certain restric- 
 
 tions, to have chapels and services according to their consciences, 
 without any fear of being molested or punished. All their 
 ministers, as well as the clergy of the Church of England, were 
 ordered to take the oath of allegiance to the king, and marly all 
 of them very thankfully accepted the peace and protection he 
 offered them, and were quite willing to do so. One part of this 
 path used to be "I, A. 15., do declare and believe that it is not 
 lawful, upon any pretence whatever, to take up arms against the 
 king;" this clause was now omitted. The doctrine of passive 
 obedience and non-resistance had hot been found to work well, 
 and even the Tories were beginning to reconsider the matter, 
 and to remember Stephen Langton and Humphrey Bohun, and 
 many another old English worthy who would have . scorned the 
 notion of swearing such an oath. 
 
 1 I. But it was a sore trouble to the Anglican clergv. They 
 had been bo long preaching about the divine right of kings, and 
 the heinous wickedness of resisting them, that it was rather 
 hard to tum round now and say their preaching had been all 
 wrong, and that the nation and the Church were justified in 
 Bending away the king who had ruled bo ill, and in choosing 
 another. Nevertheless, most of the clergy had been either con- 
 vinced of the ah nrdity of their doctrine by James's persecution 
 of the Church, his falseness and his tyranny, or they persuaded 
 themselvi by ingenious arguments that they might lawfully 
 
 William and .Mary, took the oaths and kept their 
 
 church 
 
 12. A few, among them the Archbi hop of Canterbury, Bishop 
 Ken, and some other of the bi h6p whom James had Bent to the 
 Tower, refu ed. They were treated very gently and 
 patiently; but at lael a new archbi hop end bishops Tho Non " 
 were appointed in their stead, and the Church of J urorB - 
 England went on without them. These bishbps, and the clergy 
 who followed them, were called Nonjurors (men who would not 
 take the oath; ; they considered them tic tine Church
 
 522 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 of England, and went on consecrating new bishops now and 
 then. Bui scarcely any of the laity joined them, for private 
 people had to take no oaths, whatever their personal opinions 
 mighl be, and went on attending the parish church as usual; so 
 the Nonjuring Church was a Church without any people, 
 without any buildings, without any money. It lasted on in a 
 sort of feeble way till 1805, when the last of the bishops died. 
 
 13. Although King James had fled from England without 
 
 striking a blow, and some of the Tories and clergy had soothed 
 
 their consciences in accepting William and Mary by 
 
 James and sa y m g ^] iat ]„. ], a ,i abdicated, he was not inclined to 
 
 give up his kingdom altogether. He had always, 
 
 like his brother Charles, been the friend and humble ally of 
 
 Louis XI Y., and he now took refuge with him and sought his 
 
 aid. Louis, perhaps, might nut have cared much about James 
 
 if he had not been the mortal enemy of William. The Prince 
 
 of Orange, while still only stadtholder (or chief magistrate) of 
 
 Holland, hail seen with alarm bow powerful France was growing, 
 
 and that, she was threatening to overtop and crush all tin; other 
 
 countries of Europe. lie knew too that Louis was the most 
 
 deadly enemy of Protestantism. It was the ruling passion, the 
 
 main objeel of Ins life, to withstand him. 
 
 Id. Louis had most cruelly persecuted the Protestants in his 
 
 own country, and in 1685 had revoked a law, the Edictof Nantes, 
 
 which had been made in their favour by a former 
 
 king. Many of the unfortunate French Protestants 
 
 had lied from their country and had taken refuge in England; 
 
 biinging with them useful trades and aits, which were a great 
 
 to their adopted country: in particular silk-weaving, in 
 
 which they were very skilful. Many of the descendants of the 
 
 French refugees of all ranks are living amongst us still, and proud 
 
 now to be Englishmen. 
 
 Louis, who would have been glad to see the Protestant religion 
 royed in England also, and who was very indignant at seeing 
 hu enemy Williim sitting on the throne of that country, deter- 
 mined to ; ; ■ .1 imes in recovering his dominions. 
 
 l.'i. It was thought best for dames t,, begin the attempt in 
 
 Ireland, where nearly all the population were Catholics, and 
 
 hated the English Protestant colonists with a deadly 
 
 ar , ln hatred, '1 i were in comparison few in 
 
 number, but they were far more civilized, richer, and 
 
 more determined They drew together, resolving to defend 
 
 then . theil property, and their religion to the last. A great
 
 li.] THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 523 
 
 number of them gathered together into the fortified town of 
 Derry, or Londonderry, and refused to allow the soldiers sent by 
 King James to enter. It is said that on the approach of the 
 tn>iii \ 'a ti 01 >ps, and while the governors of the city and the garrison 
 were debating what they should do, thirteen young apprentice 
 boys ran and shut the city gates in the face of James's officers. 
 
 16. Then began one of the most famous sieges that ever took 
 place in the British Isles. It lasted 105 days, until the people 
 were all but .starved. A handful of oatmeal fried in 
 
 tallow was a dainty; so were rats and dogs ; a puppy's ^ f 
 
 paw sold for five and sixpence. Still they held out. Derry 
 Four thousand of the Boldiers were dead \ the rest 
 were worn to skeletons ; but still they said, " No surrender." At 
 . and just before it was too late, English ships came to their 
 : ae, bringing f 1 and troops, and the Irish besiegers departed. 
 
 17. Still .lames stayed in Ireland, holding his court and 
 behaving as foolishly and tyrannically as ever. Next year 
 William had to go to Ireland himself with an army. 
 
 battle was fough.1 near the riverBoyne. The 169 ^. 
 history of thai battle seems to explain very clearly a ]j yu e e 
 the history and fate of the two kings, Almost before 
 
 dghl was well begun William was wounded in the right 
 shoulder, hut he bad his wound plastered up ; he held bis Bword 
 with his Left hand, managed his horse with the wounded right, 
 
 in all the thickest of the fight, leading and cheering his men. 
 •lames Looked on from a safe place on the top of a hill, ami as 
 soon as he Baw that things were going against him he gallopped 
 oil t'» Dublin, and never felt happy till be was sale back in 
 1 rice. Oue of tie' Irish offi L afterwards to an English- 
 
 man, "Change kings with as, and we will b'ghl you again." 
 I". After the war in Ireland was over there wa a mosl terrible 
 '■'limn .,t ill.- Roman Catholics, who were Looked on a 
 oid traitors. I tion, however, no Longer meant 
 
 burning or beheading, The time when people were put t" di ath 
 for their religion had Long gone by in the British tsles. Even 
 this was probably considered more a political than a religious 
 
 ecution. There were indeed Laws barrj b h »p . fri 
 
 and others from tic country, ami enacting that if they ever 
 ventured to show their faces again they should be han iwn, 
 
 and quartered, hut it does ma seem thai a single one was really 
 put t" death. They were compelled t<> hide m caves and hovels, 
 1 -li rut' i- had done in Scotland \ and the Roman 
 
 i 'lie: laity were subjected to all .sorts of unjust and cruel I
 
 524 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 which strengthened their bitter hatred to England. The •worst 
 
 of these laws, however, wen-' not made in the reign of William, 
 but in that of his successor. 
 
 19. While William was away in Ireland the French king 
 Ben1 a fleet to invade England, which defeated the English ships 
 
 that were set to guard the coast, and actually landed 
 
 1690. some troops on English ground. As soon as it was 
 
 I ™ 1 l a °^ d of known that a foreign invader had set foot on the 
 
 shore of Devonshire, the whole country round was 
 up in arms. The beacon-lights blazed on every hill-top. The 
 lords, the gentry, the yeomanry, the whole population poured 
 down every road which led to the sea. They were not thinking 
 now of King James or King William; they were thinking of 
 the dear native land, the sacred soil of England. The French 
 admiral was startled; he would not stay to fight; after burning 
 the little defenceless town of Teignmouth the invaders returned 
 to their ships, having only raised the spirit of the people, turned 
 them more heartily than ever to William and Mary, and away 
 from James, who employed foreign soldiers against his own 
 people. 
 
 20. Even the Jacobites (as the adherents of James were now 
 called) shared in the patriotic feeling, and did not wish England 
 fco be beaten by foreign fleets and armies. One of James's 
 ministers writes to the king how sorry he is to hear that "some 
 of your Majesty's servants have been so indiscreet as to show 
 their dislike that the French should beat the English at sea." 
 
 21. A year or two afterwards the French prepared to invade 
 England again. James and his allies had some hope that Russell, 
 the English admiral who was sent against them, as well as a 
 great many of the officers and sailors, were secretly in favour of 
 tie- banished king, and would not oppose! the invasion. But they 
 were quite mi-taken. Russell did really wish well to James, but 
 he -lid not mean his country to be conquered by the French. He 
 
 : out boldly, " l)o not think that I will let the French triumph 
 
 r us in our own seas. Understand this, that if 1 meet them 
 
 J fight them; aye, though the king himself should be on board.' 
 
 Ih- kept his word. A great sea-fight took place 
 
 * 6 f*- which lasted live .lavs, the Battle of La Hogue it is 
 
 La a Hogu°e called The English and the Dutch fleets joined 
 
 together, chased the French ships to their own coast, 
 
 burnt or seized a great many of them, utterly defeated them, and 
 
 Bailed away, singing, "God save the king." The joy and pride 
 
 of the English knew no bounds ; this was the first great victory
 
 j.i.] THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 525 
 
 they had gained over the French since the Battle of Agincourt, 
 and the first great defeat Louis XIV. had ever met with. 
 
 22. Kin g William was abroad at this time, but Mary was in 
 England, and did all she could in honour of the conquerors, and 
 to succour and comfort the wounded. Fe< ling all she could do 
 was )i"t enough, she promised to devote one of the finest of the 
 royal palaces for the reception of disabled seamen in all future 
 times. Thi' palace sin; chose for this purpose was at Greenwich; 
 Lut it was not till after she died that the plan was carried into 
 effect. Not many years ago the old Greenwich pensioners might 
 
 still be seen with their w len Legs and wooden arms, enjoying 
 
 their palace ami beautiful park, bul perhaps not often thinking 
 of the kind and gentle queen who had given them that honour- 
 able holm-. 
 
 .'■'>. With all his cold manners and rough ways, "William and 
 Mary were devotedly attached to each other, ami it was a most 
 terrible sorrow to him when she died, which was 
 
 m.t long after Russell's great victory. After the „ 1 ® 94- . 
 
 i , I , ■ i ', i i • * Death of the 
 
 I ie disappeared, tne most tornndamc disease to QU een 
 
 which the English were subject was BmaU pox, 
 
 which is now held at hay and half conquered by vaccination, 
 
 hut was then a most common and fatal disease. When .Mary 
 
 but thirt\ two years old she died from it, leaving no children. 
 
 William continued to reign for some years Longer. 
 
 24. One very important thing which took place during those 
 
 el of which we feel the benefit to this day, was what 
 
 ; died the emancipation of the press. Dp till 
 
 t'h period no ..ie- could print a honk or a pamphlet: 1G95 - 
 
 without, permission. There was an official called the nress 
 
 a Licenser or censor, whose business it was to read 
 
 any hook that an author wi led to publish, and give peilni 
 if he approved, or forbid if he disapproved, the contents, 
 
 Sometimes he would forbid very g 1 hoiks and allow very 
 
 foolish ones. No one was allow, d to publish any political n 
 without, pern, i id the government only sanctioned jut. 
 what they wanted tic nation to know. It had been particularly 
 remarked in tie' reign of Jam< - II., that, when the French king 
 did away with the Edicl of Nantes, and persecuted the Prote tanl i 
 in the barbarous manner mentioned before, the gazettes which 
 were printed twice a week, and prof e information of 
 
 all that was going on in Europe, took no notice of tie e ev< 
 nor would the English [ pie have known anything about them 
 
 hilt, for private letters and tie- tale., told hy t:
 
 526 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 No one dared publish one word of what was said in parliament ; 
 bo that it must nave been very difficult for the people to know 
 how the members they had elected were behaving, and whether 
 they were worthy of confidence. 
 
 25. Any book may now be published which bears the name of 
 
 the printer or publisher. If it is thought to be wicked or 
 
 injurious, the publisher or the author is prosecuted; but that is 
 
 the only limit to freedom of publication. And this liberty began 
 
 in 1695. The first notable result was the quantity of newspapers 
 
 which began at once to be published. There had 
 Newspapers. ljeen ]mt Qne Qr twQ De f or6j an( j those very small, 
 
 very dull, and often obliged to omit the exact things which it 
 would have been most interesting to know. Some of the very 
 early ones consisted of only three or four pages, about live or 
 six inches square. Pepys, however, gives ns rather a good 
 account of a newspaper published in his time. "It is pretty, 
 full of news, and no folly in it." Perhaps he could hardly say 
 as much of all our newspapers to-day. 
 
 26. It was not quite yet that speeches in parliament were 
 allowed to be published, and when printers and editors began 
 to do so they ran a chance of being severely punished for 
 infringing the "Privileges of Parliament." That, however, was 
 authorized after a time, and new every word spoken in parlia- 
 ment is printed and Hying all over the country almost as soon as 
 uttered, and every one may know what the members of the 
 governmenl and parliament think and say about any subject on 
 which the nation is interested. The wisest and cleverest men of 
 both or all parties say the best and wisesl things they can on 
 all subjects, cither in parliament or at public meetings; a few 
 hundreds or thousands only can hear tin in, hut millions can-aid 
 do read them. They learn to take an interest in great matters, 
 to look on both sides, and more oi less wisely to form their own 
 
 ■ /pinions. If there- is a good deal of chaff mingled with the 
 wheat, that is the fate unhappily of almost every human work. 
 
 27. Though then; was no more fighting in Ireland or England, 
 the war with the French was still continued on the Continent. 
 
 At last William had the satisfaction of humbling his 
 
 1697- great enemy, and making him sign a peace, the 
 
 Treaty of Ryswick, giving up a great part of his unjust gains, 
 
 aowledging William to be King of England, and promising 
 
 to do nothing farther to disturb him in his possession of the 
 
 crown, though he still protected James as his guest in France. 
 
 28. This peace did not last long. In 1701 the unfortunate
 
 it ] THE REVOLUTION AND KING WILLIAM. 527 
 
 and unwise King James died, and, to the great indignation and 
 astonishment of the English, Louis seemed to forget 
 
 1 701 
 
 his recognition of William, and declared the young • 
 
 son of James to be King of England, Scotland, and James II 
 Ireland. This great insult roused the English spirit 
 to defiance; they crowded round William urging him to war. 
 He wished for nothing hitter, but he never went to war 
 in. His health had always been very bad, and now, 
 though he was bul fifty-one years old, he was visibly dying. He 
 was riding on the turf at Hampton Court, when his 
 horse stumbled over a mole-hill and threw him; * ■ 
 though it was but a slight accident, the shock was wnnamlll 
 too much for him, and in a few weeks he died. 
 Long afterwards the Jacobites used to drink a toast, "to the 
 little gentleman in black velvet, who did such good service 
 in L702," as though they thought the Great Revolution was all 
 undone when King William dud. 

 
 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 LECTURE LII.-WIIIGS AND TORIES. 
 
 Queen Anne and the Churchills. War with Fiance. Battle of Blenheim. 
 Peace of Utrecht. Negro Blaves. Scotland. George of Hanover. 
 \\ higs and Tuties. Attempts of the Stuart princes. 
 
 1. As William and Mary left no children, the Princess Anne, 
 
 pister to Mary, and a Protestant like her, .succeeded to the throne. 
 
 She was not an interesting character. Macaulay 
 
 * 702 ' says that "when in good humour she was meekly 
 
 si upid, and when in bad humour was sulkily stupid." 
 
 She was, however, beloved by the people, for she was simple, 
 
 affectionate, and good. She was, like most of her subjects, 
 
 warmly attached to the Church of England, and above all, she 
 
 was a true Englishwoman. The Knglish nation, who have 
 
 alwavs been noted for their hatred of foreigners, and who had 
 
 never Loved William, though tli>\\ could not fail to respect, him, 
 
 were heartily sick of the Dutch, and glad to be under a sovereign 
 
 of their own blond again. Her husband, Prince 
 
 PrinoeGeorge ( . ^ wafl ( , V( , n j,_ interesting than herself. A 
 
 enmar . (li . S(Til)tion of ] )is character, written while he was 
 
 still living, ends with telling us, "He is very fat, loves 
 
 news, his bottle, and the queen;" and that "he has neither 
 
 many friends nor enemies in England." It seems he was 
 
 dull bo make either. No one thought of making or even 
 
 calling him king, and for a long time the real governors of 
 
 both queen and country were two very clever people, the Duke 
 
 and Duchess of Marlborough. They had not vet reached the 
 
 high titles of duke and duchess, though they are 
 
 Th ® besl known under them. Churchill was still on his 
 
 Churchills. ^^ f pre f erment ),,,,,, a 3 i m ple page to the highest 
 
 subject in the land, and was now an earl. The duchess had 
 
 bee,, for many years the queen's greatest friend. She was as 
 
 ch-ver as her mistress was stupid, and as overbearing as her 
 
 - was meek. "The loyalty, the patience, the self-devo-
 
 
 ml] WHIGS AND TORIES. 529 
 
 tion were on the side of the mistress ; the whims, the haughty 
 airs, the fits of ill-temper were on the side of the waiting-woman." 
 
 2. The queen and her friend were so intimate that they 
 dropped their titles, and gave each other the names of Mrs. 
 Morley and Mrs. Freeman. The Duchess of Marlborough said 
 that she chose to be called Mrs. Freeman to show how frank and 
 bold she was. The two husbands, Prince George and the duke, 
 were Mr. Morley and Mr. Freeman. The duke was a m 
 remarkable man; he was wonderfully handsome and fascinating 
 in his manners. His education had not been much attended to ■ 
 he never found writing an easy task, and he saidhimself thai all 
 he knew of English history lie had learnt from Shakespeare's 
 plays ; but by his own genius he rose to be the greatesl Boldier 
 and commander of his age. He was noted for sweet temper and 
 for humanity far greater than was common among soldiers and 
 
 aerals of those times. But he was not honourable. Be had 
 betrayed King Jamee in the most base and ungrateful manner 
 when his Deed was the sorest, and had been quite as ready to 
 betray his new master, William, when he though! it for his own 
 interest. Both In- and his wife were avaricious, and evenmiserly. 
 .All the world knew of this weakness of his, and a story is told 
 how at one time, when he was unpopular with the people, they 
 mobbed another nobleman in mistake for the duke. "I will 
 
 ily convince you," said this nobleman, "thai 1 am nol my 
 Lord Marlborough. In the firsl place, I have only two guineas 
 about me, and in the second place they are very muchal your 
 service." Everybody in England and abroad knew how com 
 pletely Ann'' was under the dominion of the Church I aid 
 "ii the Continent it wa believed thai the handsome earl wa* her 
 lover; but thai was entirely wrong, Anne was always faithful 
 fco her husband, and the pel son . he really Loved wa the 
 
 duel: 
 
 •'•• A ion a- King William was dead, leavin eal war 
 
 with France jusl beginning, Marll ugh became the principal 
 
 man in the country, and 01 l" the principal men 
 
 in Europe. The war wenl on for many years, and yt-^i* 
 was very glorious to England The objecl of ii still 
 was to prevent France, and the evei encroaching Louis, from 
 becoming too powerful, He was now attem] I Spain 
 
 to his other dominions by mal grandson king of thai 
 
 intry. When he dismissed him to take p 1 id of bis 
 
 crown he was reported to have said, "There are no more 
 Pyrenees." The other nations of Europe, including England, 
 
 H M
 
 530 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 were determined that the Pyrenees should not he obliterated, 
 and that France and Spain should never be united. It was in 
 the course of this war that the English got possession of 
 Gibraltar, which they have kepi ever since, and which is looked 
 on as the key of the Mediterranean Sea. 
 
 4. But the most important of the fighting was not in Spain, 
 nor did the Duke of Marlborough go there himself. Most of 
 the German states took part in the war also ; Prussia, Hanover, 
 ami some others, sided with England ; Bavaria and Cologne took 
 part with the French. Of all Marlborough's great victories, the 
 most famous was thai of Blenheim in Bavaria, the 
 1704 - name of which is very familiar to us, partly through 
 Blenheim tne P a ^ ace which was built and presented to Mail- 
 borough by the nation, and named after his greatest 
 triumph, partly by the charming little poem of Southey. " What 
 
 g 1 came of it at last?" says the child in that poem. Though 
 
 it might almost be said to turn the fortunes of the whole war; 
 though for that year the French forces were broken to pieces, 
 and all the conquests they had made in Germany were taken 
 back from them, and though they lost one of their most valuable 
 allies, Bavaria, yet there were many people in England to ask 
 the same question. The Tory party highly disapproved of the 
 war, and thwarted the counsels of Marlborough in all the ways 
 they could. 
 
 ."). (jne at least of their motives for this opposition was not a 
 very noble' one. They disapproved of the war with France 
 it made French wine so dear. "All the bottle compan- 
 ion.-," says one historian, "many physicians, and great numbers 
 of the lawyers and inferior clergy, were united together in the 
 ,n against the 1 Hike of Marlborough." " It was strange," 
 another, "how much the desire for French wine and the 
 dearness of it alienated many men from the Duke of Marl- 
 borough's friendship." 
 
 6. I hi re were other reasons against continuing the war which 
 
 Jit with the Tory party, one, of which, perhaps, 
 
 was that the King of France was the friend and protector of the 
 
 old and exded royal family. They came into power again 
 
 Last; the Duke and Duchess of Marlborough fell into 
 
 disfavour ; the queen took another favourite, and peace was 
 
 made with France. The great Duke was deprived of all 
 
 his offices, retired to the Continent, and never saw his mis- 
 
 _un. After her death he was called back to England, 
 
 1 to bis forrni -, and when he died was buried with
 
 in.] WHIGS AND TORIES. 531 
 
 great glory in Westminster Abbey. It was agreed 
 upon in the peace made at the time of his disgrace _ ' 
 
 that Spain and France should never be united, Utrecht, 
 though the French prince was suffered to be King of 
 Spain ; that England should keep Gibraltar and the island of 
 Minorca in the Mediterranean, and that she should receive a large 
 French province in North America, which is now called Nova 
 • ia. The treaty of Utrecht, however, as this peace is called, 
 was not to the real glory, though it was to the advantage, of 
 England. In making it she deserted her allies in such a dishon 
 ourable way that her own soldiers were bitterly ashamed, and 
 she really fur that time deserved the title, which causes an Eng- 
 lishman such cruel pain, of "Perfide Albion.'' One of the 
 stipulations of the same treaty was, that England should have 
 the right of supplying the Spanish colonies in America with 
 negro slaves. 
 
 7. It was hundreds of years since slavery had seemed to be ex- 
 tinguished for ever; even the stern Conqueror William had seen 
 the duty of putting down the Bristol slave trade; and 
 
 one cannot but wonder, after so many centuries of The slave 
 
 , ' « trade 
 
 Christianity and growing civilization, to tind it again 
 
 in full force. The only explanation we can Bee is that the slaves 
 
 now in question were doI men of the same race and religion, bul 
 
 and heathen. Even yet men were far from realizing what 
 
 ' ■■ i bad known bo well, thai "God had made of one blood 
 
 all the nations of the earth;" and though they questioned 
 
 whether it would lie lawful to hold Christians in bondage, they 
 
 had ao such doubt about tmbaptized Pagan . 
 
 8. The employment of negro slaves, w lerful to say, had beec 
 
 -n from motives of the truest humanity, and was encouraged 
 
 by one of the most tender-hearted and pitiful of Chri bis See 
 ing bow cruelly the Spanish worked the native Americans 
 in the silver mines, not long after the discovery of Amerii 
 priest named L I out of pure benevolence, recommended 
 
 the employing of negro . knowing that they were a much 
 
 stronger race, and could endure hardships under which the ] ' 
 
 ink. Little did be I what he wa setting on 
 
 ; the kidnapping, the torture . the murdei ■ This w i 
 trade brought great profits, and the English people w 
 
 iv feeling of pity for the wretched m that this part of 
 
 the Treaty of [Jtrecht seems to have pleased them almost b 
 
 than any Ot li'T. 
 
 'J. Not only did the 1 sin the upper hand in the matter
 
 532 LECTURES ON ENGLISI1 niSTORY. [leot. 
 
 of the war and the disfavour of the Duke and Duchess of Marl- 
 borough ; there was actually a revival of the old High Church 
 and Tory doctrine of passive obedience and non-resistance to a 
 hereditary sovereign. This doctrine would perhaps never have 
 been revived in the Church of England had there been a 
 tyrannical, ot Catholic, or Dissenting monarch; hut with Queen 
 Anne on the throne, who, though she strove to be impartial, was 
 inclined to Toryism and High Church herself, and whom they 
 therefore had not the slightest wish to resist, it was a good oppor- 
 tunity for bringing it forward once more. A Dr. 
 1'09. Sacheverell accordingly preached two sermons, declar- 
 vereli's 6 m " ^ na ^' ^ ie Revolution na( l been unlawful, and that 
 sermons, nothing could ever justify resistance to a king. For 
 preaching this doctrine Dr. Sacheverell was tried and 
 condemned by the House of Lords ; but they gave him so light 
 a punishment that it was almost a victory to him rather than a 
 defeat. Nearly everybody took his part ; and when he travelled 
 through the country not long after this he was received like a 
 hero or conquering prince : with flags, bell-ringing, bands of 
 music, and every sign of rejoicing. This was made an oppor- 
 tunity too for attacking the Dissenters, who of course were all in 
 favour of the Revolution; some of their chapels were attacked by 
 furious mobs, and even their private dwellings were threatened. 
 Thus it is evident that though a fair amount of toleration was 
 granted by the law, and approved by the more enlightened 
 classes, it had not by any means made its way among the masses. 
 Some of the bishops and of the higher London clergy were in 
 favour of it, but the country clergy, who at that time were much 
 lower in position and education than they are now, and the coun- 
 try people had not yet arrived al agreeing with them. 
 
 10. Though there was still a good deal of prejudice and 
 narrow-mindedness in the country, and party spirit ran very high 
 there, we have a charming idea of rural England at this time. 
 Addison, a very wise and good man, and one of the most delight- 
 ful writers in Queen Anne's reign, has given us a description 
 of a country gentleman, which is as perfect in its way as the 
 pictures Chaucer painted so vividly 300 years before. Sir Roger 
 de Coverley might, one thinks, have been the lineal descendant 
 of Chaucer's knight fallen on less heroic times. He lives in his 
 old country seat, and "does not a little value himself upon his 
 ancient descent." There we see him, the very ideal of a "line 
 old English gentleman ;" quite a little king amongst the people, 
 but a beneficent, tender-hearted, sympathizing king. All his serv-
 
 lii.] WHIGS AND TORIES. 533 
 
 ants have grown grey in his house. " You would take his valet 
 de cJiambre for his brother ; hia butler is grey-headed, his groom is 
 one of the gravest men that I have ever seen, and his coachman 
 has the looks of a privy councillor." He is such a kind master 
 that none of his servants ever wish to leave him ; his manners 
 towards them are " a mixture of the father and the master of the 
 family." 
 
 11. He is as much beloved by the tenantry and neighbours. 
 " Tie- farmers' sons thought themselves happy if they could open 
 
 a gate for the g 1 old knight as he passed by; which he 
 
 generally requited with a nod or a smile, and a kind inquiry after 
 their fathers or uncles." Just as kind and good is he towards his 
 old horses and dugs, which are kept with greal care and tender- 
 ness, in remembrance of their past services. He rides out hunting 
 "encompassed by his tenants and servants, and cheering his 
 hounds with all the gaiety of live and twenty ;" but at the last 
 moment, when the poor hare is unite spent, and almost Within 
 the reach of her enemies, a signal is given, and the dogs come 
 to a full stop. " .\t the Bame i ime Sir Roger code forward, ami, 
 alighting, took up the hare in his arms, which he soon after 
 delivered up to one ,,f his servants, witli an order if she could he. 
 kept alive to lei her go in his greal orchard ; where it semis he, 
 has several of those prisoners of war, who live together in a very 
 comfortable captivity." 
 
 12. lie is a high-bred gentleman in every look ami every 
 thought; but hi education had not been very profound, lie 
 ■ lid not choose to have :i very learned clergyman as his chaplain, 
 
 ' was afraid of being insulted with Latin ami I keek at. 
 own table." His favourite reading seems to have been 
 
 ' Baker 1 ' ihronicle ; ' of which we too have read si >. lie ,1 
 
 not quite know what to think about witches, gipsies, and fortum 
 tellers. He take care to protect a poor old woman, who is bus- 
 ted of practising the black art, from ill u ige ; hut ;,i. the tame 
 time advises her, "a a justii f the peace, to avoid -ill com- 
 munication with the devil, and never to hurl any of her neigh- 
 bours' cattle." 
 The account of the rural Sunday and of Six Roger at church 
 
 ' lelicious to be spoilt b el ; it oughl I 
 
 Addison wrote ,t | t tor,' No. I 12, July '.'. 1711), a indeed 
 
 ought 1ms whole portraiture. \\v ,■,,,, hardly fail to think,aa we. 
 r id it, '• He was a veray parfil gi ntle knighl ; " and were th< 
 
 many such as he, we should not. have much fear for the futUTeof 
 the cuimtry.
 
 534 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 13. It was in Anne's reign that England and Scotland were 
 
 finally made into one kingdom. Though they had been under 
 
 one king for more than 100 years, they had not been 
 
 1707. looked on as one nation ; for each had a separate 
 
 Union of parliament, separate laws, and a separate coinage f 
 
 England and L o- e JL a t x. i i i i 
 
 Scotland money, Since many ot the Scotch people looked on 
 
 the Stuart kings as peculiarly their own, they had 
 fought for King James in the days of William and Mary, and 
 afterwards fought for his son and grandson. The state of Scot- 
 land was a very curious one. It was divided almost completely 
 between two distinct races of men. The Lowland ers were, as 
 was mentioned long ago (see p. 247), really of English or Saxon 
 blood, and all the southern part of Scotland, which was the part 
 inhabited by them, was now nearly as much civilized as England 
 and the other European nations. These Scotch were rigid Pro- 
 testants and Presbyterians. But in the northern part, where the 
 Highlanders lived, everything was very different. The inhabitants 
 of those mountainous regions were descended from the old Celtic 
 tribes whom first the Romans, and then the English, had hemmed 
 in among the hills and lakes, and who had mixed but little with 
 their southern neighbours, except to fight or rob them. They 
 wciv still separated into tribes or clans; and the head or chief 
 of the clan was the only human being 1 1n y respected. Him they 
 would obey almost likr a god upon earth ; and would fight in any 
 quarrel he might have in hand, without the slightest care for the 
 rights or the wrongs of it. Their code of morality was rather 
 singular. Stealing cows, or, as it was politely called, " lifting," was 
 a most honourable occupation, and worthy of a gentleman ; next 
 best indeed to lighting ; but stealing sheep was degrading and 
 infamous. Work or labour of any sort was also degrading, and 
 only fit for women. With all this, the Highlanders had a grace 
 and charm of manner which was sadly wanting in the Low- 
 Landers, and which seems to belong to the Celtic races. The 
 Highland tribes still for the most part adhered to the Catholic 
 religion. It was a long time yet before these wild people could 
 Learn order and obedience — not till after one or two great rebellions; 
 but the beginning of it was made when the two countries were 
 brought, at least nominally, under one law. Though after this 
 there was but one parliament for both nations, the Scotch never 
 accepted the Church of England, but retained their Presbyterian 
 _ ion. 
 
 1 t. Anne had several children, but the same fatality which 
 seemed to attend the Stuart family, as it had before attended the
 
 mi] WHIGS AXD TORIES. 535 
 
 Tudor?, pursued her, and they all died in infancy or childhood. 
 It was necessary, therefore, to look out for a successor to the 
 throne. The English were resolved not to have the son of James, 
 whom Louis XLV. had declared to be king ; and who, though he 
 called himself James IIL, was generally known as the ' Chevalier 
 ,1 ■ St. < ri orge," or less politely as the " Pretender ; " and who was 
 a Roman Catholic like his father. Many Jacobites in England 
 
 itly hoped that he might yet have a chance when Ann.' died, 
 since the next heir to the throne was a stranger and foreigner, 
 and only a distant relation to the royal family. 
 
 15. It had been settled during William's life that if neither 
 
 ad Qneen Mary, nor Anne, left any children, the crown must 
 
 iven to a Protestant German prince, the Elector of Hanover, 
 who was descended from that daughter of James I. who had 
 
 I n called the Queen of Hearts. This is the lasl change of 
 
 dynasty or royal family which has taken place; the House of 
 Hanover, or Brunswick, as it is often called, has gone on reigning 
 in England ever since, though it has no Longer anything to do 
 with Hanover. It Beems thai Queen Anne herself would have 
 been inclined to favour her half-brother, and had he consented 
 to change his religion he would doubtless have been welcomed 
 back to England, for there were still many Tories who Longed 
 for the old royal Line to be restored. There was only one thing 
 they Loved more than a hereditary king, and thai was the 
 Protestant Church of England, To his Lasting honour, the 
 young prince would not change his religion for a crown. With 
 
 own hand he wrote these plain and honest words, " I neither 
 want counsel nor advice to remain unalterable in my fixed 
 
 ration of never dissembling my religion, but rather to 
 abandon all than act againsl my conscience and honour, ,,, i. 
 
 what it will." 
 
 L6. When Queen Ann" died, therefore, Prince George of 
 Hanover was sent for from Germany, and proclaimed king. 
 Tim I -i herself once more under the rule 
 
 of a foreigner. George could not even peak Eng- 1714 
 
 l'-h, and tl nlv way in which he and hi- prime D ™ thof 
 
 minister, Sir Roberl WaJpole, could talk togethi t 
 
 in very bad Latin. Hi* private Life was not very much 
 erthan Charles II.'-. He was neither a clever nor an attracl 
 man, and was never much Liked in England. He 
 returned tie- compliment, as William had done, by 0eor e e L 
 not liking England much. II" greatly preferred his little 
 dominion in Germany, and really to have been o| no u e
 
 536 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 at all in England, except as a solid figure on the throne, which 
 kept James Stuart out. 
 
 17. The old romantic and religious reverence for royalty 
 seemed to die out, under these new and elected kings. Though 
 they were distantly descended from the royal family, they were 
 not in the direct line, and there seemed no special sacredness 
 ahoul them. It is amusing to see, in the days of the Stuarts, 
 how astonished Pepys was when it dawned upon his under- 
 standing that kings and princes had some resemblance to other 
 mortals. One day he was with the king in his barge, "hearing 
 him and the duke (James) talk, and seeing and observing their 
 manner of discourse. And, God forgive me ! though I admire 
 them with all the duty possihle, yet the more a man considers 
 and observes them, the less he finds of difference between them 
 and other men, though (Messed be God !) they are both princes 
 of great nobleness and spirits." 
 
 18. The miraculous power of curing disease by the royal 
 touch, which had come down from the days of Edward the 
 Confessor, was not supposed to he conferred upon the Hanoverian 
 princes ; but if any one could perform that miracle it was the 
 banished Stuarts, who did still practise it now and then, or 
 attempt to do so. In England there no longer seemed anything 
 supernatural in the respectable, or, perhaps, not very respectable, 
 gentleman at the head of the government. For a long time now 
 the history of England becomes very prosaic. 
 
 L9. During the last 200 years the country had been in a high 
 
 of excitement. There had been the Reformation and its 
 
 ; the Spanish Armada and the deliverance of England ; 
 
 the long struggle against despotism, both in Church and State ; 
 
 y one of which had stirred men's hearts to their very depths, 
 
 and roused them to enthusiasm and heroism. But now that all 
 
 nob achieved, that there was no more tyranny and no more 
 
 martyrdom, everything gradually settled down into quietness 
 
 and a kind of stagnation. Conflicts, both religious and political, 
 
 still went on, but they were no longer at fever heat. 
 
 It was thought to be one of the most admirable effects of the 
 1 Society, which had been founded thirty or forty years 
 ire, that it drew men's minds off from political matters, and 
 furnished them with "subjects of discourse which might be 
 without warmth of passion." Addison, who, with all 
 his wisdom and goodness, was evidently not a natural philoso- 
 pher, does not speak very reverently of all those wonderful 
 inventions before referred to. He says, "The air-pump, the
 
 
 lilJ WHIGS AND TORIES. 537 
 
 barometer, the quadrant, and the like inventions were thrown 
 out to those busy spirits as tubs and barrels are to a whale, that 
 he may let the ship sail on without disturbance, while he diverts 
 himself with those innocent amusements." While the philoso- 
 phers were thus "diverting" themselves, we can see that the 
 
 ts had undergone a change too. Instead of leading men to 
 feel or to imagine, instead of carrying them into fairyland or 
 dreamland, into heaven or hell, they taught them to judge and 
 to reflect. Pope's poetry, some of which is very interesting, is 
 
 rally cold, hard, and brilliant like cast steel. 
 20. A great part of the history of these times is taken up with 
 the disputes between Whigs and Tories, each striving for the 
 
 Ddancy. It ia not very interesting to follow 
 the details of their struggle, or always to see who w ^^. 3 and 
 were up and who were down, but it is well to know 
 clearly what they each wished and believed. These two great 
 parties were then, jus I as they are now, agreed up to a certain 
 point. They both desired to maintain the En lish constitution ; 
 they both wished for a hereditary monarch, who should govern 
 tip- country in ien1 with the Bouses of Parliament, the 
 
 Lords and Commons. The Tories did nol wish for a despotic 
 
 reign, who could govern according to his own will, un- 
 
 kled by law or parliament, any more than the Whigs did. 
 'lb''. Whigs did not wish tor a republic and the putting down of 
 tin- monarchy altogether, any more than the Tori a did. The gr.-at 
 difference between them was that the Tori jeem to have thou 
 
 th nstitution was already quite perfect, and that no cha 
 
 ought ever t.. be made in it ; whilst tin- Whigs held thai 
 oth^r circum , tin- condition of the people, for in tance, 
 
 changed with time, the constitution oughl to adapt il -If to 
 those changes, and t.> grow a, the nation grew. The Tories 
 thought most of th" right of the king ami the upper el i 
 the duty <>!' order an.] obedience, and tie- evil of rebellion. The 
 Whigs thoughl most of the blessing of liberty and the right 
 the whole nation. The Tories wished all people I" obey the 
 i tu believe the prayer-book, and to go t.. chnrch, The 
 Whigs thought all people ought to judge for them ;lll ,| 
 
 might x> to chape] it' they thought fit. 
 
 It is well worthy of note that the old nobility of England 
 never, a. might perhaps have been expected, belor 
 entirely tu the Tut i a great number of them i 
 
 always cared heartily for the rights and liberties of the whole 
 nation, and have been tin; Leaden of the. Whigs.
 
 53S LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 21. William III., who wished to be fair and just to all parties, 
 had chosen his ministers some from the Tories and some from 
 the Whigs. When the two did not agree, which was of course 
 very often, he himself decided between them. The same plan 
 went on during Anne's reign, and she tried to hold the balance 
 fairly. But it was extremely difficult to do this, and kept the 
 king or queen very responsible and very anxious, while the quar- 
 rels between the two parties made it almost impossible to act in 
 a firm or decided manner. In the latter part of her reign a new 
 plan was attempted — that of choosing all the members of the 
 government, the Cabinet, as they were called, from one side or 
 the other, according to the majority of the House of 
 The Cabinet. Q ommoris# Thus, if the people in the country were 
 most in favour of the Tories, and chose most Tory members of 
 parliament, the ministers appointed would be Tories too, and 
 would feel very strong, all agreeing with each other, and having 
 the greater part of the country to back them. If the people were 
 more inclined to the Whigs, and elected most Whig members, 
 the ministers would be Whigs too. Whenever the country 
 changed its mind, which it was sure to do sometimes, then the 
 ministers were changed also. This is the system by which our 
 country has been governed ever since. 
 
 22. As it was the principles of the Whig party which had set 
 George I. on the throne, they now came into power, and continued 
 to govern the country for a long time. One of the first tilings 
 they did was to banish some of the leading Tories from the 
 country. It was said, though not exactly proved, that they had 
 been secretly planning to bring James Stuart, the "Pretender," 
 back. It is quite true that many of the Tories still had an uneasy 
 feeling in their hearts about the divine right of kings and their 
 eldest sons, and could not be quite clear as to whether it had 
 been right to drive James away, and to pass over his son. But 
 these uncertainties were not strong enough to induce them to risk 
 anything to bring the Chevalier or Pretender back. 
 
 23. The year after Anne's death, the son of James thought he 
 would make an effort to recover the kingdom. The attempt was 
 
 begun in the Highlands of Scotland, as most of the 
 
 1715. wild clansmen, or rather their chiefs, were in favour 
 
 The first f t ] ie Stuarts ; almost the only one on the other 
 
 rising* 8 side WaS the 1>uke ° f Ar " y11 ' who WaS at the head ° f 
 the Campbells. The clansmen cared neither for 
 
 James nor George, but only for their own chief a, and would fight 
 
 as willingly on one side as the other if the chief commanded it.
 
 mi.] WHIGS AND TORIES. 539 
 
 They liked the fighting very much, and the plunder of the rich 
 Lowlanders and English still better. 
 
 L'4. It was hoped that, when once a beginning was made for 
 them, many of the English would rise also in support of the 
 prince. But very few of them did so. The English government 
 ;ui' -ted some of the most influential men who were thought 
 likely to join the insurrection, and the few who did really rebel 
 were defeated at Preston. A battle was also fought in Scotland 
 at Sheriff-muir, but not much came of that, for it was never 
 decided which party got the best of it. As the old ballad quoted 
 in the ' Heart of Midlothian ' has it — 
 
 " There's some say thai we wan, 
 And some say that they wan, 
 And BOme say that none wan 
 At a', man. 
 
 But one thing is rare, 
 That at Shenff-niuir 
 A battle there w;i<. 
 
 Which I saw, man." 
 
 The whole rebellion was so unsuccessful that the Chevalier was 
 very glad to escape safely to Prance. He made one or two other 
 efforts during the reign of George L, getting differenl foreign 
 nations to help him, — once the King of Sweden, once the King 
 of Spain,-- but all to no purpose. N'T had bis BOn any better sue- 
 when his turn came to try his fortune. 
 
 25. Neither of these two princes, James's son and grandson, 
 were greal or good men, worth;, to be king oi England. The 
 elder one is said " not to have been absolutely wanting in capacil v 
 01 courage,' 4 but it was added that he gave the mosl undeniable 
 evidence of bring his father's own Bon (which we saw was disbe- 
 lieved by every one al hie birth) " by constantly resisting the 
 coun "1 of wise men." Every one feels a romantic interest in his 
 son, Prince Charles Edward, because of his adventures, and 
 
 we know mo i about him from the Waverley novel ; 
 
 but those who knew him best give a very differenl view of his 
 
 character from the chivalrous one of Sir Walter >r,,u. One of 
 
 friend and support) obliged to confi ."I never heard 
 
 him expre any noble or benevolent sentiment, the certain indi- 
 
 oul and a g I heart, or discover any Borrow 
 
 or compassion for the misfortunes of bo many worthy men who 
 had Buffered in his can 
 
 26. When George I. died his son George H. succeeded him 
 without any dispute, and it was not till many j Eter that tin re
 
 .-.ID LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lew. 
 
 was any more trouble with the Stuarts. Put when 
 
 1745. the young Prince I lharles Edward was about twenty- 
 
 The second g ve ] ie came over to make one more effort in his 
 
 ^■ishxT father ' s cause ;l1 " 1 llis own - The Highlands rose 
 
 again, and for a time all things went well with him. 
 
 He gained a victory over the English at Preston-Pans in Scotland, 
 
 I kepi a gay court in Edinburgh, though the castle still held 
 out for the English. He then marched into England at the head 
 of a wild Little army of Highlanders, hoping that, the Tory lords 
 and gentlemen would join him in great numbers. Put he was 
 disappointed. These lords and gentlemen were safe, free, and 
 prosperous under the government of George II.; and though 
 they might grumble a little sometimes, and perhaps think kindly 
 of th<' exiled family, their feelings were very tepid, and they did 
 not care enough to risk their lives and fortunes by rebelling. 
 The common people were still more indifferent. They seemed 
 inclined, as was observed at the time, to look on and cry, "Fight 
 dog! fight bear ! " without taking any part themselves if they 
 could help it; but feeling very angry with the Pretender for 
 coming to disturb the peace of the kingdom. 
 
 •21 . When the prince had marched as far as Derby, and had 
 found no support in England, he had to march hack again. A 
 last decisive battle was fought at Culloden in Scotland, and 
 then he too had to flee. He was hiding about in the Highlands 
 for five months, and had as many adventures as his great uncle 
 Charles II. ; at last he arrived safely in France. This was the 
 serious attempt of the Stuarts. Though the Jacobites 
 continued to drink the health of the "king over the water" till 
 nearly the end of George II.' reign, they did nothing more, for 
 him. He was never brought back in triumph as Charles II. had 
 been. -\ few years later the English Roman Catholics even 
 n fco pray for the royal family of the House of Hanover. 
 
 28. The gradual dying out of Jacobiiism is rather amusingly 
 illustrated in the life of Dr. Johnson. He gloried in being a 
 Tory to the lasi hour of his life, and had, doubtless, some little 
 imental attachment to the House of Stuart. This, however, 
 did not prevent him from being fervently loyal to the reigning 
 family and receiving a pension from King George. It appi 
 
 tain "reflections" were cast upon him for accepting this 
 
 . ion, as being inconsistent with his principles. When this 
 
 mentioned to him, " Why, sir," said he, with a hearty laugh, 
 
 '"it is a mighty foolish noise that they make. I have accepted 
 
 of a pension as a reward which has been thought due to my
 
 en.] WHIGS AND TORIES. 541 
 
 literary merit; and now that I have this pension T am the same 
 man in every respect that 1 have ever been : I retain the same 
 principles. It is true that I cannot now curse" (.smiling) "the 
 House of Hanover; nor would it be decent for me to drink 
 King James's health in the wine that King George gives me 
 money to pay for. But, sir, I think that the pleasure of cursing 
 the House of Hanover and drinking Xing James's health are 
 amply overbalanced by £300 a year." 
 
 "He no doubt," says Boswell, "had an early attachment to 
 the House of Stuart ; but his zeal had cooled as his reason 
 strengthened. Indeed, I heard him once say that after the, 
 death of a violent Whig, with whom he used 1.. contend with 
 great eagerness, he felt his Toryism much abated." 
 
 Charles Eld ward fell into most disgraceful and degrading habits 
 abroad, and died very little respected by any one. 
 II younger brother became a cardinal, and died in 1807 - 
 the beginning of this century. So passed away the theVtuam 
 royal House of Stuart.
 
 542 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 LECTURE LIIL— SLEEP AND WAKING. 
 
 The Whigs and Walpole. Decline of enthusiasm. Foreign wars. Disasters 
 
 and des] Inirv. The elder Pitt. Canada and Wolfe. India and 
 
 Olive. The Methodists. 
 
 1. George II. was not much more interesting than his father, 
 
 nor was his private character any better. Though he could at 
 
 least speak English, he did not feel like an English- 
 
 1727. ]nan i JU t took far more interest in Hanover. The 
 
 ' Whigs continued to govern England, "with Sir Robert 
 
 Walpole as prime minister. Walpole was a shrewd, sensible 
 
 man, and the country became more and more pacific under his 
 
 influence. The Tories and the Church grew recoiiciled to the 
 
 new dynasty; the Dissenters were placed in a better position. 
 
 In order to enable them to hold offices in their towns as mayors, 
 
 aldermen, &c, from which the Test and Corporation Acts shut 
 
 them out, a law was passed called the Indemnity Act, which 
 
 excused them from receiving the sacrament of the Church of 
 
 England. The same Act was passed again and again, until about 
 
 years ago, when the Test and Corporation Acts themselves 
 
 were repealed. 
 
 ■1. Both Whigs and Tories learnt to act with more moderation, 
 
 ami not to regard each other as mortal enemies. But though 
 
 Walpole sincerely desired the good of the country, 
 
 Walpole. i ]( . ( |j ( j a , J|( i|t jjggj (.q degrade its character. The 
 
 cipal means by which he kept everything so quiet, and was 
 
 aide to :_ r et, his own way, was by bribing people, right and left. 
 
 'J be high spirit of English gentlemen was sunk so low that 
 
 many, even members of parliament, would sell their votes for 
 
 Walpole's bribes. Sometimes he bribed them by giving them 
 
 places and offices with comfortable salaries attached; sometimes 
 
 by presents of good hard money, which were delicately called 
 
 itifications." In this way he could nearly always get 
 
 rities in the Eouse of ( lommons. 
 
 3. The government had also a great deal of influence in the
 
 tin.] SLEEP AND WAKING. 543 
 
 flections. It was almost worse now than it had been in the 
 • lavs of Jack Cade. In many places the government could 
 make people elect any one whom they chose to appoint ; in 
 others great noblemen could do the same. Some places, which 
 in old days were rich and important, and used to send members 
 to represent them in parliament, had now dwindled away into 
 poor little villages, or much less than villages, where there might 
 be only a few sheep and shepherds left. Stdl they went on 
 Bending members to parliament. These came to be called "rotten 
 boroughs." Other places which had formerly been insignificant 
 hamlets had now grown into large towns, with thousands of 
 inhabitants; these might not send any members at all. 
 
 4. Thus it was evident that parliament did not fairly represent 
 the opinion of the country. Walpole knew this very well ; he 
 knew too that it was his duty to act according to the sense and 
 will of the nation; and however well he might have bribed the 
 parliament, and however sure he might be of a great majority in 
 the House, if the people outside really cared about the matter, 
 and showed that they objected to his plans, he always gave way. 
 
 5. George II., being a brave man and a good soldier, was fond 
 of interfering in Continental wars, with which England need not 
 have been burdened. These wars are very confusing, 
 
 and have not much to do with English history. p ore i ea 
 The lii-t of them is called the War of the Austrian wars 
 Succession, and it. was n,,t popular in England, 
 
 ise the people believed thai the king took part, in it for the 
 good not "i England, but of Hanover, of winch they were 
 jealous. William Pitt, a patriotic young member of parliament 
 who w.i ri ing into oote, and afterwards became the mosl 
 
 eminent man in England, said, " [1 i now too apparent thai ibis 
 it, this powerful, this formidable kingdom is considered only 
 a province to a de picable electorate." The king liked wrar, and 
 
 he loved Hanover, bo he bated Pitt for this saying. f the 
 
 politicians in thi reign, who had eded Walpole as prime. 
 
 minister, summing up in a few word hi own ideas aboul the 
 
 foreign wars, called il "a noble ambition to 1- & the bea< 
 
 the kings of Europe together, and jumble something oul of it 
 which may be of Bervice to this i itry. ' 
 
 6. The principal advantagi which resulted to England out of 
 the "jumble" were nol in Europe ai all, but in Asia and 
 America. England had long po i ed large colonies in America, 
 but Canada, the part, which at presenl belongs to us, was ai that 
 time colonized by t nch, u c J inies were part of what
 
 544 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 are now called the United States. Though those States an; now 
 r republic, they belonged to England, and were under the English 
 kings and queens till about 100 years ago. Many of them are 
 still called after those former rulers: Virginia after the virgiu 
 Queen Elizabeth; Maryland after Henrietta Maria, the wife of 
 Charles I. ; the Carolinas after Charles IT. ; New York after the 
 Ihike of York, James II. ; Georgia after George II. 
 
 7. There were often disputes between the French and English 
 culnnies about the boundary lines. At last they came to open 
 hostilities. The mother countries joined in the dispute, and 
 there was soon war both in Europe and America. At first 
 everything went, very ill for England. Horace Walpole, the sou 
 of old Sir Robert, and one of the witty writers of the day, 
 says in a letter to a friend, " [fit were not for the life that is put 
 into the town now and then by very bad news from abroad, one 
 should be quite stupefied." Plenty of that "life" was put into 
 
 the town. The French kept the upper hand in 
 1 • America, and in Europe the English lost the island 
 of Minorca, which was considered a terrible disaster. 
 S. (enraged were the people of England, that Admiral Eyng, who 
 had failed to relieve Minorca, was brought to trial. Though no 
 charge could be brought against him, at the veiy worst, but that 
 he had made a mistake, such as any man might have made, 
 nothing would pacify the nation hut his execution. 
 
 8. This cruel act, of course, brought no consolation and no 
 remedy. Everything seemed to he going ill ; the nation was 
 utterly ashamed and disheartened ; there seemed no one to be 
 trusted, no one who could do anything, but the one man whom 
 the king hated, William Pitt. "I am sure," he said, "that I 
 c m save the nation, and that no one else can." The nation was 
 sure of it too, and the king was obliged to make him prime 
 minister. 
 
 9. Pitt, who was afterwards created Earl of Chatham, was a 
 man of wonderful genius ; he was perhaps the greatest prime 
 
 minister that England ever had. There was some- 
 —.„.*-,... thine grand and lofty about him which seemed to 
 
 vvilli&m Pitt 
 
 ' raise the spirit and character of the whole nation as 
 much as Walpole had lowered it. He was a very poor man 
 when he began life; his whole private fortune was about £100 
 a year; but he did not love money; he scorned bribes and 
 corruption, and kept his hands and heart pure to the last 
 day of his life. He had also a wonderful eloquence. Horace 
 Walpole, after describing the fine speech of another great orator,
 
 liil] SLEEP AND WAKING. 545 
 
 breaks off with "What could be beyond this? Nothing but 
 what was beyond what ever was, and that was Pitt." What so 
 often happens if people, being fallen from a higher level to low, 
 poor, worldly ways, see once more a noble example rise before 
 them, happened now. The spirit of honour, disinterestedness, 
 and self-sacrifice in one man kindled the same in those who 
 beheld it. They began to feel the stirring of a nobler life within 
 them, Pitt became the nation's idol. Englishmen woke up 
 from their torpor, their, love of selfish ease and profit ; they 
 showed once more a s. lt'-sacrilice, courage, and patriotism worthy 
 of their fathers of old. 
 
 10. Now everything began to change. Pitt was skilful in 
 choosing num. He did not appoint them only because of their 
 
 or rank, but according to their qualities. He 
 Bent a very gallant young general to Canada, James ana a " 
 Wolfe, wlio quickly turned defeat into victory, but whose career 
 
 -'»'ii ended. In taking the city of Quebec from 
 the French he fell mortally wounded, but lie did nut ' ' 
 
 die till he heard tin; enemy were vanquished. " They run," he 
 overheard some one say. "Who run;" asked the dying man, 
 lifting himself up. When they told him it was the French, he 
 -ink down again, saying, "Then I die happy." His victory put 
 an end to the French power in America, and gave to England 
 that tine colony of which we are so proud. 
 
 11. It was Pitt's clear eye which perceived how to turn the 
 noble, qualities of the wild Highlanders to account, since the 
 
 llion of I 7 I") tie- chiefs of many of the clane had been sent 
 into banishment, and the people were lefl as sheep without a 
 Bhepherd. Their main ideas of life bad alwa; devotion to 
 
 their chiefs and love of fighting. Pitl formed two Highland 
 1 1 1 • ■ 1 1 were booh some of the finesl in the whole army. 
 Tic soldiers became as devoted to tie irregimenf ;i they used to be 
 to their clan, and were as proud of fighting for king and country 
 
 as they used to 1 f fightu both. Scotland continually 
 
 improved in civilization mid prosperity, order and safety. 
 
 I •_'. Soon too England bej m t" lift up her head in [ndia. 
 mli and English were rivals there also. Neither had 
 any dominion, but each had some commercial inter- 
 
 impany in London called 
 I [ndia I my, which had been established -imply for 
 
 trading purp They had some little Bettlemenl on differ* nt 
 
 parts of the coasi of [ndia, consisting ol a few square miles, tot 
 which they paid rent to tie- natives, and where the merchants lived.
 
 546 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i,ect. 
 
 These settlements had a few poor little forts, and a few soldiers 
 to protect them. The merchants grew rich, but they never 
 thought of wanting possession of the country. 
 
 1 3. The most important of these little establishments was at 
 Madras. Not very far south, at Pondicherry, the French had a 
 similar one. As the two countries at home were at war, the 
 rival merchant settlements were soon at war too. Here also the 
 French were successful at first, and the English were reduced to 
 great danger and distress. It seemed as if all would 
 ' be lost, when Clive, a young merchant's clerk, who 
 had been a great scapegrace in his youth, began to show such 
 wonderful courage and genius that he was appointed to command 
 the little English army. All his daring plans succeeded, to the 
 amazement of French, English, and natives. The greater part of 
 the natives in those parts, thinking the French were sure to be 
 victorious, had taken part with them ; but Clive with his hand- 
 ful of troops defeated them all. When he had completely 
 triumphed in Madras he went north to Bengal. The nabob, or 
 ruler of that province, had taken possession of a settlement 
 which the English had at Calcutta, and had made himself for 
 ever infamous by shutting up his prisoners in the den so well 
 known now by the name of the Black Hole. 
 
 14. Clive was sent with a small army to punish the nabob. 
 He had about 900 English troops and 1500 natives. The 
 nabob's army consisted of nearly 00,000. " On this occasion," 
 says Macaulay, " for the first and for the last time, his dauntless 
 spirit, during a few hours, shrank from the fearful responsibility 
 of making a decision. He called a council of war. The 
 majority pronounced against fighting, and Clive declared his con- 
 currence with the majority. Long afterwards he said that he 
 had never called but one council of war, and that if he had taken 
 tin; advice of that council the British would never have been 
 masters of Bengal. But scarcely had the meeting broken up 
 wlum lie was himself again. He retired alone under the shade 
 of some trees, and passed near an hour there in thought. He 
 came back determined to put everything to the hazard, and 
 gave orders that all should be in readiness for passing the river " 
 which separated the English from their foe on the morrow. 
 
 L5. The morrow came, the river was crossed, and in little 
 
 more than an hour the nabob's great army was put to flight. 
 
 ,„ 57 This is called the Battle of Plassey. From that time 
 
 Battle of lne En^li-h gained ever more and more power and 
 
 Plassey. influence in India, till it has now almost entirely
 
 Lin.] SLEEP AND WAKING. 547 
 
 passed into our possession. The earliest English rulers thought 
 too much of growing rich, and plundered and oppressed the 
 natives shamefully ; but for a long time past England has to 
 some extent, at least, striven to rule that great country for its 
 own good; has given it wise laws, education, and justice ; and 
 there is good reason to hope that the people are happier and 
 better cared for than they ever were under the native rulers, who, 
 for the most part, were cruel and ignorant tyrants. 
 
 Thus the latter end of George's reign was very glorious for 
 England. Horace Walpole no longer depends on had news from 
 abroad to put a little life into the town. "I don't know how 
 the Romans did," be writes, " but I cannot support two victories 
 every week. . . . One cannot take the trouble of sending even- 
 victory by itself. I stay till I have enough to make a pacquet, 
 and then write to you." And again, " You would not know 
 your own country. You left it a private little island living upon 
 its mean-. You would find it the capital of the world." 
 
 16. Quite as wonderful a change took place in the religii 
 feeling of the country. Since there had been safety and toler- 
 
 i, instead of danger ;,,„! persecution, religion 
 had rather fallen asleep. People bad ceased to think reu\ol 
 so much about it, and it, had become a Bort of 
 respectable and commonplace affair, in which no one vvas much 
 interested, and with which very few hut the middle classes con- 
 cerned themselves at all The higher ranks, from the king 
 downwards, were very immoral; they Laughed at the idea of 
 being faithful husbands ; they drank enormously, and no gentle- 
 man was ashamed of b< m intoxicated; they also bwo 
 
 'hfully. Grave, great, and hi roic thoughts no Longer occupied 
 men's minds. life of the upper chu es in London al this 
 
 time v. lly any better than it had been under Charles II. ; 
 
 liferent indeed from what it had been in the goldi 
 
 days of Elizabeth In her time there had 1 n grace and 
 
 I mtry, wit and pl< but tho e were, as we ma^ I be 
 
 orn and outside decoration of ti in [ and brave charac- 
 
 ter; the fair blossoming of a noble root. Sidney and Raleigh 
 
 were men of high thoughts and high d Is, as well as gracious 
 
 and accomplished gentlemen. During the utury 
 
 there were gentlemen indeed, and very one gentlemen, gay, witty, 
 d-humoured, and charming; but those qualities were n <, 
 longer the ornaments, they were the very besl pari of the man; 
 underneath were can I . jelfisbnes", frivolity, and too often 
 
 heartless wickedness. One of the best and mosl brilliant of 
 
 N N 2
 
 548 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 these fine gentlemen, the same Horace Walpole quoted above, 
 when for mice he paused in his gay career to think of his past 
 and his future, wrote a few words which seem a more emphatic 
 comment on that butterfly life than many sermons. " Nor can I 
 well agree with Waller," he says, " that 
 
 ' the soul's dark cottage, battered and decayed, 
 Lets in new lights through chinks that time has made.' 
 
 Chinks, I am afraid there are, hut instead of new lights I find 
 nothing but darkness visible, that serves only to discover sights 
 of woe. I look back through my chinks, I find errors, follies, 
 faults ; forward — old age and death, pleasures fleeting from me, 
 no virtues succeeding to their place ; ilfaut twouer, I want all my 
 quicksilver to make such a background receive any other objects." 
 17. The very poor were about as bad, except that it was not 
 their own fault. London and other cities had grown enormously 
 during the last hundred years; trades and manufactures had 
 been constantly increasing, and had drawn more and more 
 inhabitants into the towns and ports. Though the population 
 
 increased so greatly, the Church had not taken much notice, 
 or exerted itself to do anything for the good of these crowds of 
 people. Very few new churches or schools were built; no one 
 pcemed to remember that what was enough for 1000 people 
 was not enough for 10,000. But the great towns were 
 &oon more than ten times as populous as they had been 100 
 years before. The people grew frightfully ignorant, irreligious, 
 and degraded. There were no Sunday schools and scarcely any 
 day schools for the pour. Hardly any of them could read or 
 write. Not long before this the custom of gin-drinking had 
 <■ .in.- iii. Before thai they used to drink immense quantities of 
 
 and beer. In his young days the celebrated Benjamin 
 
 Franklin worked as a printer in an establishment in London, 
 
 where about fifty men were employed. "The beer boy," he 
 
 wrote afterwards, " had sufficient employment during the whole 
 
 rving that house alone. My fellow pressman drank 
 
 every day a pint of beer before breakfast, a pint with bread and 
 
 : breakfast, one between breakfast and dinner, one at 
 
 dinner, one again about six o'clock in the afternoon, and another 
 
 he had finished hie 'lay's work. This custom," Franklin 
 
 concludes, "appeared to me to be abominable." Still even all 
 
 I pints of heir did not do them nearly as much harm as gin. 
 
 [1 becam I of passion with the people,and led, as it always 
 
 . to increased poverty, cruelty, and crime.
 
 mi.] SLEEP AND WAKING. 549 
 
 18. The amusements were low and brutal too; cock-fighting, 
 bull-baiting, and other cruel sports were the delight of nearly all 
 ela-ses. There -••-•nii'd a g< ncial coarseness and degradation, with 
 but little care or feeling for anything higher. But now some 
 clergymen of the Church of England, seeing how 
 torpid and dead the respectable people were, how y°°- 
 hiatal and sinful the others, and their own hearts whitefield. 
 being fervent and loving, set themselves to wake the 
 dead to life again. The principal of them was John "Wesley, a 
 truly noble and saintlike man ; a man of high talent, and 
 iod scholar. His great helpers were his brother Charles, 
 who was a scholar too, and wrote some of our best hymns, and 
 Whitefield, also a clergyman, and the most eloquent preacher of 
 his time. It' Whitefield did not draw iron tears down Pluto's 
 •<. he did what was perhaps hardei — he drew gold out of 
 the purse of a hard-headed American philosopher, the above- 
 mentioned Franklin, who had made up his mind to give none; 
 and rairied Lmd Chesterfield, the very type of a fine gentleman, 
 bo out of himself that he uttered an audible and excited exclam- 
 ation in church.* 
 
 19. Though some of the doctrines they taught were very harsh 
 and dreadful, their hearts wen much better than their doctrines. 
 They were filled with that glowing love for the unseen God, 
 the unseen < Ihrist, which always lifts men up oul of cold, worldly 
 selfishness, and overflows Into love and pity for man. The. 
 lit about reminds us of the old 'lays, and of 
 work- of the * rrey and the Black Brothers in the warmth of their 
 first love. These men toiled unceasingly to save the lost and 
 
 • 
 
 •' Franklin itrongly disappro' inji of the schi i 
 
 in G i. . . . detcrmincdnof to support it. 'I hap| I -""ii after,' He 
 
 tells II-, * to attend one of his Bern s, in thi c i which I perceived he 
 
 intended e> tiiii~.li with ■■> collection, and I silently resolved I 
 nothing from me. I bad in my pockel a handful "f copper money, thi 
 
 fom suvei dollars, and five pistoles in gold. As hi \> I d I began to 
 
 ve 1 1 1 * - copper, Anol oratory 
 
 made me d of this, and determined mi to give the silver, and he 
 
 finished airably thai I emptied my pockel wholly into the collector's 
 
 ill.' 
 
 " On one occasion, when illustrating tbe peril ol 1 with 
 
 s I'ti an admirable pow< r an old blind in in d bj bis d f< ebly 
 
 thi desolate moor, endeavouring in vain to feel biswaj with a staff, ana 
 
 gradually drawing rand nearer to thi verge ol •> dizzy precipice, tbat 
 
 when he arrived al thi final catastrophe, no less a person than Lord Chi ter- 
 
 field Lost 'ill self-possession, and was heard audibly exclaiming, • Good Godl 
 
 ' —Licky's Hiitory of England m t/u Eighteenth Century.
 
 550 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 outcast. Then journeys, their fatigues, their preaching, their 
 prayers were incessant. They never meant to leave the Church ; 
 all their desire was to breathe a new life into it ; and if the 
 Church of England had been wise she would have welcomed 
 them, as the Pope had done St. Francis. But the Church was at 
 that time what we call "High and Dry;" too respectable and 
 conservative to put up with anything new, such as preaching and 
 singing out of doors. 
 
 20. It must be owned that there was some excuse. The 
 poor people to whom they preached grew so excited and wrought 
 up that they sometimes fell into dreadful convulsions; some 
 went mad; some died. They were very- superstitious ; they 
 believed in witches ; they saw visions ; they dreamed dreams ; 
 they reverted to the old idea that God governed the world by 
 perpetually interfering with the laws of nature, and were 
 constantly telling of His miracles. Wesley himself, for example, 
 gives the account of a girl who was always quite blind when she 
 tried to read the Roman Catholic prayer-book, but could see 
 plainly if she took up the New Testament. 
 
 They hated all amusements, even innocent ones, as much as 
 William Langlande and the Puritans. 
 
 21. Many of these exaggerations were only a sort of first 
 effervescence, and passed away. They did a wonderful work 
 which has not passed away. Soon after, and greatly through 
 their influence, the Church of England itself began to revive, 
 and to see that though decorum, tranquillity, and order are 
 very good things, they are not the be-all and end-all of 
 Christianity. A large number of the clergy, who were called in 
 a sort of contempt by the honourable name of Evangelical, 
 
 in to tread in the steps of Wesley, though not going to such 
 extremes. Some of the most earnest and noble-hearted of the 
 laity j"ined them. Their doctrines, like Wesley's, were many of 
 them hard, bitter, and narrow, but, like his, their hearts were 
 
 g 1. It was they or their friends and followers who began half 
 
 the charitable works which sprang into life towards the end of 
 the last century. 
 
 22. Alter George II. had slept with his fathers, and his 
 grandson, George III., was reigning in his stead, not only in the 
 I irch, however, but throughout the country, men's hearts seemed 
 to grow larger and warmer. They cared more and more for their 
 
 ■ w-creatures, and had an ever-increasing pity for the weak 
 and the suffering. "I was sick, and ye visited Me; I was in 
 prison, and ye came unto Me," their Master had said. They
 
 Lin.] SLEEP AND WAKING. 551 
 
 longed that He should say that to them. Some went among the 
 sick, and comforted them; others penetrated into those dens of 
 misery, the prisons. Some cared for the children, and drew 
 them into schools. Sunday schools were first thought of in 
 1780. The children were very coarse and rough and dirty; 
 when a gentleman or lady tried to teach and help them it perhaps 
 Seemed a very hard and repulsive work ; but as they sat among 
 them, and saw how surprise and interest would kindle in their 
 eyes, and warmth and sympathy would melt their wild young 
 hearts, the teacher kindled and warmed too ; duty was turned 
 into love. Missionary Societies, Bible Societies, all sorts of 
 ways for helping man were soon set on foot. The spirit was 
 everywhere abroad, which led a poor woman to say, " Yes, I 
 know we have given everything we can spare; but I want to 
 give something which we can't spare."
 
 552 LECTURES ON ENGLISII HISTORY. [lect 
 
 LECTURE LIV.— THE ENGLISH GEORGE. 
 
 George III. The American colonies. Policy of England. Declaration 
 of Independence. The slave trade. Wilberforce. The younger Pitt. 
 The French Revolution. 
 
 1 . George III. had the longest reign of any English sovereign, 
 
 and a wonderful reign it was. He was not at all a clever man ; 
 
 but for the greater part of the sixty years he wore the 
 
 1760. crown of England he was a very popular king. Many 
 
 George I . £ us mus t have known people who remembered him 
 and his days. They always spoke of him with kindness and 
 affection; as " dear old George III.," "good old King George." 
 Why was he so loved? we ask ourselves, though he was dull, 
 obstinate, blundering, undignified. One reason, doubtless, was 
 that he was an Englishman, and gloried in being so ; for the 
 nation had never loved its German kings. "This sovereign," 
 said Walpole, "don't stand in one spot, with his eyes fixed 
 royally on the ground, and dropping hits of German news ; he 
 walks about, and speaks to everybody." But more than that, 
 with all his defects he was a good man. He said he intended to 
 introduce a new custom, "that of living well with all his family." 
 In-teadof deserting or slighting his wife, and leading an im- 
 moral life, as the other two < reorgea had done, he was a good, true 
 1; hand, a loving lather, a sincere Christian. He loved his 
 church and his Bible. He it was who said he longed for every 
 poor man in his dominion to be able to read his Bible and to 
 a Bible to read. He was honest, and if he was obstinate, 
 it was because he always believed the things he wished were the 
 right things. He was simple-minded and kind-hearted. He got 
 up early and went to bed early, and lived a quiet, good, and 
 religious life. In his later years he was sorely afflicted, for he 
 grew blind and lost his reason. 
 
 2. One of his greatest comforts in those sad times was sacred 
 music ; sometimes parts of Handel's beautiful oratorios. In one
 
 Liv.] TnE ENGLISH GEORGE. 553 
 
 of the last lucid intervals he had, Thackeray tolls how he was 
 found by the queen "singing a hymn, and accompanying him- 
 self on the harpsichord. When he had finished he knelt down 
 and prayed aloud for her, and then for his family, and then for 
 the nation, concluding with a prayer for himself, that it might 
 please God to avert his heavy calamity from him, hut if not, to 
 give him resignation to submit. He then burst into tears, and 
 his reason again fled." 
 
 3. George III. had been better educated than his father, and 
 as far as hia lights went, was fond of literature and learned men. 
 A love of books and of culture was more and 
 
 more spread abroad. " Any man," says Dr. John- Education 
 Bon, " who wears a sword and a powdered wig," and art ' 
 
 that meant in those days every gentleman, " is ashamed to be 
 illiterate." It was George who gave Dr. Johnson his pension 
 of £300 a year. 
 
 4. Not long afterwards he encouraged the founding of the 
 1 Academy of Arts. Through all these years, though 
 
 cultivated Englishmen had been fond of pictures 
 and statues, they had always been obliged to buy 1768 ' 
 tin-in abroad, or to employ foreigners to paint, them in England. 
 There were now, however, English artists who mighl stand, and 
 not be ashamed, beside the greatesl of the foreigners. The first 
 president of the Royal Academy was Sir Jo bus Reynolds. Il<< 
 and his friend and rival, Gainsborough, though they could paint 
 as perfectly as the be I of [talian artists, were generally content 
 with painting portrail . mple rural lubjects. What, they 
 
 saw fchey painted beautifully: those men with the powdered 
 wigs, who would have been ashamed to be illiterate; those 
 ■ ladies, who loofc so stately and bo innocent, and who 
 still greet us, winter after winter, on the walls of the R 
 Academy. 
 
 Towards the latter end of George's long reign, Turner, the 
 ipe painter whom England or the world \\-.< ever 
 beginning to open the i i of men to the infinite 
 ■ and in ,,th. and e i, and sky. 
 
 • >. 1 he greatest misfortune which happened to England during 
 his reign was the loss of her American colonies ; and that mi 
 fortune, it i . impoi rible to d< ay, was in greal p 
 due to poor King G< invetera tinacy. LoHS °f the 
 
 The quarrel was caused by the tyranny of the colonies" 
 mother country. Ever Bince the colonies had been 
 founded they had been greatlj hampered in their manufactures
 
 554 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [i.ect. 
 
 and their trade by the selfishness of England. It was an 
 established principle that the interests of all colonies and de- 
 pendencies were to he quite subservient to those of England. 
 
 6. If it was thought that any article which England produced or 
 manufactured could be provided better or cheaper in a colony, 
 the colonists, instead of being encouraged to make and sell it, 
 were hindered in every possible way. For example, in America 
 they had plenty of iron and plenty of wool, far more than they 
 wanted for themselves, and which other countries would have 
 been very glad of; but as the English also had wool and iron, 
 the American colonies were not allowed to make theirs into 
 useful things and sell them to any one who wanted them, be- 
 cause the English wished to force all other nations to buy wool 
 and iron from no one but themselves. 
 
 7. The English treated Ireland just in the same way, pre- 
 venting the Irish from selling what they had to those who would 
 have been glad to buy it. They were discouraged from weaving 
 either wool or linen. At one time they were forbidden to sell 
 the meat, butter, and cheese, which their green, fertile land pro- 
 duced in great abundance, even in England, lest people might 
 buy from them instead of from English fanners. England, in 
 fact, reminds one of Bottom in the play, who, not content with 
 his own part, wants to act everybody else's part too. 
 
 Hardly any one had yet begun to see that the more food and 
 clothing and other useful things the earth produces, the better 
 it is for all the inhabitants of the earth j and that if one country 
 can produce one thing best, and another another, it is the wisest 
 thing for them each to produce plenty, and to exchange it with 
 one .up it her as much and as often as they like, instead of 
 hindering and thwarting each other by jealousy. 
 
 8. This selfish policy on the part of England alienated the 
 hearts of the Americans, and helped on greatly in leading them 
 to evolution. A still worse grievance was the taxation. The 
 colonies knew very well that a main principle of the English 
 constitution is that no tax can be imposed without the consent 
 of the people taxed; that is to say, the consent of the repre- 
 sentatives whom they choose to act and speak for them in par- 
 liament. Now the colonies had no one to speak for them in 
 the English parliament; they sent no members there, but had a 
 
 - of their own, which laid on their taxes and attended 
 to the local government. The English government, being now 
 in great want of money, attempted to tax the colonies. Many
 
 lit.] THE ENGLISH GEORGE. 555 
 
 of the Americans were descended from the old Puritans, and 
 were men of the same type as Pym and Hampden; they 
 resisted, just as their forefathers would have done. They de- 
 clared that they would not pay taxes which were imposed by a 
 parliament in which they were not represented. One of the 
 colQnists, who already took a principal part in the 
 affairs of the country, and who afterwards rose to Waslun §r ton - 
 be the leader of all, was George Washington. He was a man 
 quite worthy to be placed beside Hampden in our thoughts ; he 
 was brave, persevering, truthful, and magnanimous. In all bis 
 after life he never sought or accepted anything for himself; all 
 he thought of was justice for bis country. He had too the 
 clear eye of a commander, and knew how to march to his ends 
 through tmuhle, and difficulty, and danger. 
 
 0. At first the Americans had no wish to separate themselves 
 from England; they only demanded " the rights and privileges 
 which are essential to the happiness of every free state." Lord 
 I : ham , as I 'in was now called, and the wisest of the king's other 
 counsellor . ad \ i ed him to give in, and said that the Americans 
 were right. "We are told," said Lord Chatham, "America is 
 obstinate; America ie in open rebellion; I rejoice that America 
 has re i ted." But George, who had all the makings of a 
 monarch in him, and who loved his own way as dearly 
 era Tudor or a Stuart had done, would not give in. It 
 firmly lix>'d in his mind, that it' the Americans succeeded, 
 all the other colonies would also be Lost, and England would 
 '■ i' duce itself to a poor island indeed." Be called the Americans 
 rebels, and he called Lord Chatham's Bpeech "a trumpel of 
 sedition." Be said thai if the Bngli b were resolute, the 
 Americans would "undoubtedly 1"' very n k." 
 
 10. Bui the American ■■■ n not meek al all. and they would 
 not yield. One of the grievances had been about the import- 
 ation of t< The government bad made a decree demanding a 
 i-iTtain duty to he p.iid hy the Americans on all the tea which 
 they received from the mother country. 'I he Americans, women 
 as well a- men, hound them elves to drink no tea al all sooner 
 
 than pay that duty; and at la t, wleli sour I ■ Li b hip lad^n 
 
 with tea arrived in Boston Barbour, a mob dn ed 
 
 up like wild Indians uttered a loud war-whoop, 
 
 boarded the .-hips, and dung all th<- chests of tea into the ea, 
 
 long after this war was openly declared. If la ted ten y< 
 and the end of it was that the colonies and their good can e
 
 556 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [leot. 
 
 conquered, and they were declared independent of the 
 
 1783. in, ,1 her country. "When King George announced his 
 
 The American consen t to this declaration, he said very truly that in 
 
 SL^o!!j Riving it he had sacrificed every consideration of his 
 declared ^ © . . •« „ . . TT 
 
 independent, own to the wishes and opinion of the people, lie 
 added a prayer that neither might Great Britain nor 
 America suffer from their separation, and that " religion, language, 
 interest, affections " miuht proven bond of union between the 
 t wo countries ; a prayer to which every year seems to bring a wider 
 fulfilment. 
 
 11. This was an inglorious page in the history of England. A 
 very few years after the Declaration of American Independence 
 
 a great work was begun, which was as much to the 
 Th tra S de Ve nonour of the country. It was in 1787 that a few 
 
 wise and good men set themselves to make England 
 worthy of being called free, ami the champion of freedom, by 
 abolishing the trade in negro slaves. The wickedness of traffick- 
 ing in human flesh and blood had at length begun to be realized 
 by English Christians. The hideous cruelties of the trade, the 
 ghastly miseries and tortures endured by the kidnapped victims, 
 added to the rising feeling. It was a lady who first saw or said 
 
 that pity and indignation were not enough; that 
 1787- half measures were of no avail, and that the whole 
 matter ought to be laid hefore the House of Commons. 
 
 12. The charge of bringing the subject before parliament was 
 given to William Wilberforce, one of the brightest and most 
 ardent of the evangelical laymen, who, we may almost say, gave, 
 his whole noble life to that cause. The last letter the venerable 
 John Wesley ever wrote was to Wilberforce, encouraging him in 
 his holy war. Among all his helpers in the long battle, the most 
 
 eminent was William Pitt, who was soon to be the 
 
 The second l ea( Ji n g mim j n the kingdom. The great Lord Chat- 
 
 Wilham ltt. j iam wafl jjg^ an( j hi s son William inherited a large 
 
 portion of his talents and character. He, like his father, was 
 
 noble and grand in all his ideas, proud of his country, proud of 
 
 him He was prime minister of England when he was 
 
 ity-four years old. He made his first speech in parliament 
 
 when only twenty-one. There were splendid orators in the 
 
 House of Commons in those days. One of them, Burke, was so 
 
 nished and delighted at the young man's speech, which 
 
 reminded him of his father, that he hurst into tears, saying, "It 
 
 i- not a chip of the old block ; it is the old blockitsclf." 
 
 1 .',. Wilberforce himself tells us how he talked over the subject
 
 liv.] THE ENGLISH GEORGE. £57 
 
 of slavery with Pitt, who was Lis intimate friend. " I well 
 remember," he writes, " after a conversation in the open air at the 
 root of an old tree at Hoi wood, just above the steep descent into 
 the vale of Keston, I resolved to give notice on a fit occasion in 
 the House of Commons of my intention to bring the subject for- 
 ward." In the beautiful spot where those two friends sate there 
 is now a stone seat with an inscription, commemorating the con- 
 versation which led to such great results. The fight lasted for 
 twenty years before Wilberforce and his allies succeeded. At the 
 end of that time the British trade in slaves was put an end to. 
 No more slaves could be torn from their homes, or sold in the 
 market ; but it was more than twenty years longer 
 before slavery itself was abolished in every colony 183 ^ - 
 and dependency belonging to England. Not till a ^ s e j[J d 
 then could it be boasted thai the moment aslavesets 
 foot on English .soil he is free. In the very year that slavery was 
 abolished William Wilberforce died. Eis hearl was good to the 
 last, and though his strength had failed, and his brighl eye was 
 dimmed, bis interesl in the cause never abated. It happened to 
 be said in the old man's hearing that "a1 this moment, probably, 
 the debate on slavery is just commencing," when he sprung from 
 his chair, and with his clear voice startled his surrounding friends 
 by enthusiastically exclaiming, " Eear, hear, hear." 
 
 1 1. Though England had lost a great part of her dominions in 
 ■ i Ameri continued to spread abroad in other lands. 
 
 She gained more and more of India, and the whole 
 island of I '• . Ion ; and she began to plant colonies in Greater 
 New Zealand, Australia, and Tasmania ; all these are 
 
 ime very well called " Greater Britain." Thus, though at 
 the end of the many wars with Prance during all thi e n i ms, 
 both countrie left off in Europe aboul as they had begun, neither 
 of them being much larger or smaller j yel on the whole, looking 
 al the map of the world, England had grown enormou ly, while 
 Franc* bad scarcely grown at all. France is very clever al annex 
 in_. and attaching to her the people Bhe anm iich England 
 
 not ; but die i nol o clevi t at colonizing, or taking root in 
 other lands ; that i the gre it forte of 1 In I ind. 
 
 15. S her and very serion war broke oul with France. 
 
 Thai country was now in a mo t deplorable tate. The king and 
 the ari had long I. id their own way ; it has been mi 
 
 tioned before how the trading classes and the pea antry were 
 oppressed ; how proud and cruel the nobles were ; how careli 
 and extravagant the court was ; while the poorm unddown
 
 55S LECTURES ON ENGLISIT HISTORY. [ieot. 
 
 to t lie earth. The clergy and the nohles paid no taxes ; all tlie 
 work and all the money were wrung out of the miserable, starv- 
 ing peasants. The English, half pitiful, half contemptuous, 
 described the state of the French people in two words — " slavery 
 and wooden shoes.'' 
 
 The very type and centre of oppression was the Bastile, a great 
 prison fortress in Paris. The king could imprison any one ho 
 chose in its strong and gloomy dungeons without any trial, with- 
 out even telling the victim what was his offence. A sealed letter 
 from the king was enough to tear an innocent man from his home 
 and happiness and bury him alive. The cruel nobles could easily 
 get those sealed letters, and so rid themselves of any one who 
 stood in their way. The English, strong in their own liberty, 
 looked on with wondering indignation. Cowper, the gentlest of 
 Christian poets, wrote thus of the Bastile : — 
 
 1785. " Te horrid towers, the abode of broken hearts, 
 Ye dungeons and ye cages of despair, 
 
 There's not an English heart that would not leap 
 To hear that ye were fall'n." . . . 
 
 16. At last the French nation would bear it no longer, and 
 the great Bevolution began. Four years after Cowper's bnerf 
 
 were written the Bastile was stormed, and of those 
 
 ~, 1 I 8 i. " dungeons and cages of despair " not one stone was 
 
 The French . 
 
 Revolution. ^'^ upon another which was not thrown down. 
 
 How could England hut rejoice when she saw France 
 
 striving to obtain what she herself had so long enjoyed — liberty, 
 
 justice, and protection for rich and poor 1 ? 
 
 1 7. We saw in a former lecture how the spirit of humanity 
 had awakened of late. Even those who were less directly 
 
 religious in the ordinary sense were full of this gen- 
 The feeling eros ity and enthusiasm. Of course, then, they felt 
 ,n ° ' keenly for the French. The young poets of Eng- 
 land thought the Golden Age was coming, that henceforth all 
 would be brothers. Wordsworth, who was living in France 
 when the Bevolution broke out, threw himself heart and soul 
 into the cause, and indeed narrowly escaped being massacred. 
 ' Leridge burst out into glorious song. 
 
 " ye loud waves ! and ye forests high ! 
 
 And O ye clouds that far above me soared! 
 Thou rising sun ! thou blue rejoicing sky ! 
 Yea, everything that is and will be free !
 
 liv.] TIIE ENGLISH GEORGE. 559 
 
 Bear witness for me, wheresoe'er ye be, 
 With what deep worship I have still adored 
 The spirit of divinest liberty. 
 
 " When France in wrath her giant limbs upreared, 
 
 And with that oath, which smote air, earth, and sea, 
 Stamped her strong foot, and said she would be free, 
 Beat witness for me, how I hoped and feared." 
 
 A preacher in London, carried away with joy, after thanking 
 God that he had lived to see it, exclaimed, " I could almost say, 
 ' Lord, now lettest Thou Thy servant depart in peace, for mine 
 eyes have seen Thy salvation.' " The statesmen of England felt 
 a like thrill of generous sympathy. The more they gloried 
 in their own constitution, and in the Revolution of 100 years 
 before, which had secured it to them, the more they loved the 
 liberty which was an Englishman's birthright, so much the more 
 did they wish other countries to share in such blessings. 
 
 18. Pitt, who was now the foremost man in England, hoped 
 great things from the Revolution ; he expected to sir France 
 stand forth " as one of the most brilliant of European 
 powi Of the few who could approach him in Plt t and 
 
 genius and eloquence, the most notable wire Fox 
 ami Burke. Fox was one of the most generous, affectionate, 
 and noble-hearted of men. His private life, in his young days 
 at Least, was full of faults, ami yet everybody loved him. His 
 whole soul overflowed with pity for human Borrow and haired 
 of cruelty and oppn ion. When the Revolution began be 
 cried enthn la tically, "How much is it the great ! evenl that 
 ever happened in the world, and how much the best I" 
 
 L9. But after a year or two the I'n m-h heeame *., furious and 
 
 coi itted such awful crimes thai the English were horrified. 
 
 The French king and queen, who in a rague way 
 meant well, but were quite belplei in I he face of a 
 
 wild and raging nati were dragged down the torrent and put 
 
 to death. Innumerable people, many of them perfectly innocent, 
 were mas acred. 
 
 20. Now England began to shrink hark-. Burke, who name 
 was known through all Europe at the champion of freedom and 
 justice, was appalled He at first gazed with astoni b 
 ment at the French struggle, hardlj knowing whether U1 e ' 
 to praise or blame. But he drew ba before all this 
 
 brutality and savagery. The fate of the queen Btirred bis whole 
 He had jeen her years before, when she Br t came to 
 I ranee, a beautiful young girl. " I saw her," he wrote,
 
 5G0 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 above the horizon, glittering like the morning star, full of life 
 and splendour and joy. ... I thought ten thousand swords 
 would have leaped from their scabbards to avenge even a look 
 that threatened her with insult." He saw in her fall the fall of 
 "chivalry." In a sense he no doubt saw truly. That fatal flaw 
 in chivalry which we noticed centuries ago in its palmy days, 
 the sharp separation of classes, the honour to 'Tadies and 
 gentlemen," the scorn of the poor, had gone on widening and 
 widening, till the great crash came. " Never, never more," said 
 Burke, "shall we behold that generous loyalty to rank and sex, 
 that proud submission, that dignified obedience, that subor- 
 dination of the heart, which kept alive even in servitude the 
 spirit of an exalted freedom. The unhought grace of life, the 
 cheap defence of nations, the nurse of manly sentiment and 
 heroic enterprise is gone. . . . Their liberty is not liberal. 
 Their science is presumptuous ignorance. Their humanity is 
 savage and brutal." 
 
 21. "Were those sad words true? Was chivalry really dead? 
 or was it soon to begin a higher and a wider life 1 Reverence 
 for rank and birth might be abating, but surely a nobler and 
 more manly reverence was arising. If, as Burke complained, 
 " on this scheme of things a king is but a man," the new 
 chivalry would see something to honour in every man ; if " a 
 queen is but a woman," the new chivalry would render homage 
 to every woman. Ln every man and every won&n, the poorest 
 and the weakest, would be seen the trace of " the image of 
 God." 
 
 22. Such hopes, or some such hopes, might have been in the 
 minds of the French and of those who sympathized with them, 
 but the terrible course which events took as the Revolution pro- 
 gressed soon smothered them all. Some of the lower and 
 discontented people in England were still inclined to side with 
 fiance, but they were put down and kept down by the strong 
 hand. All the upper classes, all the middle classes, in fact, 
 a! most all England, woe indignant and alarmed. The French 
 i < rlutionists, on their part, wanted to force their principles on 
 all the world, and invited all nations to rise against their govern- 
 ments, and so England and fiance were soon at war again. Pitt 
 hoped lor peace to the last, but it could not be ; the two countries 
 
 were each longing for the combat, and though France 
 1 ^; n J*f ar actually declared war, England was only too eager to 
 accept it. 
 
 
 declared. 

 
 it..] THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. . 5G1 
 
 LECTURE LY.— THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. 
 
 The English sailors. Nelson. The Battle of Trafalgar. Napoleon 
 .Bonaparte. The Duke of Wellington. The Peninsular War. 
 Waterloo. 
 
 1. Pitt remained at the head of everything, hut lie did not 
 know how to manage a war. Things went on very ill ; the 
 allies of England were not to be depended upon, and every one 
 grew discontented. It was only at sea that England prospered. 
 Our navy was, as it ever has been, the pride of the nation, 
 and it was worthy of its old fame. The sailors indeed were 
 
 hardly treated. In those days men were pressed, or seized by 
 
 force, to serve on the ships ; but this custom has Long 1 n put 
 
 an end to, and England is unlike the other countries of Europe 
 
 iiis, that no man is forced to be either aoldier or sailor 
 against bis will, On board Bhip at that time the sailors bad 
 many grievances, and more than once they mutinied very 
 seriously for better pay and better treatment. 
 
 2. But when they were in the face of the enemy they showed 
 their gallant English hearts. The brave sailors had brave 
 captains to Lead them. The mosi famouf of all was 
 
 l. I Nel on, who won the two great battles of the Nolson - 
 Nile and Trafalgar. They say he had a bold, dauntless spirit 
 from bis infancy. When quite a young child be was lost in a 
 thunder-storm ; after be was found, and bis Eriends asked him if 
 he was nol afraid, the Little fellow answered, "Afraid I what 
 doe thai meai Be i be wa brai e. 
 
 In the Battle of the Nile be was wounded, and 17 ® 8 ' 
 carried off the deck to be attended to. The urgeon tll n N ^° 
 hi! a sailor whose wounds be was dri and 
 
 turned to the admiral. But " No," laid VI on, " I will take 
 my turn with my brave feUo That was the sort of man 
 
 would Live and die for. 
 
 3. His last great victory saved l ad from the fearof a French 
 
 o o
 
 5G2 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 invasion. They had planned to cross over the Straits, and had 
 
 collected a great army of 100,000 men at Boulogne, within sight 
 
 of our white cliifs. Three hundred thousand English volunteers 
 
 sprang up to defend the native land, as they would spring up 
 
 again to-morrow, if need were. And while the French were 
 
 waiting for their fleet to come and protect the army 
 
 as it crossed, Nelson pounced upon it at Trafalgar, 
 
 Trafalgar, conquered it, destroyed the power of France on the 
 
 sea, and put an end to all fear of invasion. 
 
 4. One of Nelson's best officers, another English hero, was 
 Collingwood ; he too was gentle and generous as well as brave. 
 " As one reads of him and his great comrade going into the 
 victory with which their names are immortally connected," says 
 Thackeray, " how the old English feeling comes up of what I 
 should like to call Christian honour. What gentlemen they 
 were ! what great hearts they had ! ' We can, my dear Coll,' 
 writes Nelson to him, 'have no little jealousies; we have only 
 one great object in view — that of meeting the enemy and getting 
 a glorious peace for our country.' In the beginning of the 
 battle, as Collingwood's ship was pressing alone into the midst 
 of the enemy, Lord Nelson said to an officer near, ' See how 
 that noble fellow Collingwood takes his ship into action; how 
 I envy him!' The very same throb and impulse of heroic 
 generosity was beating in Collingwood's honest bosom. As he 
 led into the fight, he said, ' What would Nelson give to be 
 here!'" 
 
 5. The second ship in Nelson's line was the " Fighting Teme- 
 raire." The glory and the fate of that ship have been written by 
 J Luskin, and painted by Turner. When the fast-sailing " Victory," 
 with Nelson on board, "drew upon herself all the enemy's fire," 
 writes Luskin, " the Temeraire tried to pass her, to take it in her 
 
 I, but Nelson himself hailed her to keep astern. The 
 Temeraire cut away her studding sails, and held back, receiving 
 tin- ■ lire into her bows without returning a shot. Two 
 
 hours later she lay with a French seventy-four gun ship on each 
 side of her, both her prizes, one lashed to her mainmast and one 
 to her anchor. . . . Surely if ever anything without a soul 
 deserved honour and affection we owed them here." 
 
 The greatest painter whom England has ever produced saw 
 that stately and beautiful ship " tugged to her last berth," and 
 on the walls of the National Gallery we may see her too, in one 
 of the most perfect and pathetic pictures he ever painted. 
 
 6. It was Nelson's last battle. He had given in it his famous
 
 i.v.] THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. 5G3 
 
 _ nal, " England expects every man to do his duty." As he 
 stood on deck doing his, watching, cheering, and directing, ln- 
 fell mortally wounded, and the joy and pride of England were 
 darkened by that great loss. This victory was the last bright 
 gleam of happiness in Pitt's life. An alliance or coalition which 
 he had formed with Austria and Russia had failed. The French 
 had won two great victories at Ulm and Austerlitz, and Pitt's 
 heart was broken. As he lay dying, the watcher by 
 his bedside tells that suddenly, " with a much clearer • 
 
 voice than he spoke in before, and in a tone which p itt 
 I shall never forget, he exclaimed, ' ( >h, my country ! 
 how I leave my country!' From that time he never spoke or 
 moved." lb; died in the prime of his days, only forty-six years old. 
 
 7. Affairs in France had meanwhile altered very much. After 
 the execution of the king a republic had been proclaimed, and 
 it was decided that there should be no more kings or royal 
 families in Frarn-e. With royally, religion, order, and every- 
 thing else were swept away. I hie party alter anoi her came into 
 power, each one putting its opponents, or even its lukewarm 
 
 ipporters, to death. Fora time things were in so divadlul a 
 
 ndition thai it was called the "Reign of Terror," at the head 
 of which was Robespierre. This horrible rule, or misrule, could 
 
 t; and it happened in France somewhal as it had bappe I 
 
 in England after the execution of Charles I. , and as it often doi 
 happen when a tyrannical government is overthrown, and no one 
 knows what, to put in its place, ii generally tall into the hands 
 
 of some clever and fortunate soldier. 
 
 The. most distinguished Boldier in France was now Napo- 
 leon Bonaparte, who had risen into note during some of the 
 wars of the French republic, and who by his won- 
 derful talents and uc< oon became the lead Nft P ol, " n 
 
 .. . , 111,1 i i Bonaimrto. 
 
 oi t be ai in v. I hough For a long t ime he vre I he 
 
 idol of the French nation, he was nol exactly a Frenchman, but 
 
 an Italian from Corsica, an i land which France had annexed. 
 
 ime of the innumerable ballad an which were made in 
 
 England in defiance of him, and in encouragemenl oi Enj land, 
 taunt, him a the " Proud I lorsican." 
 
 9. From being heal of the army he became lead oi 
 the nation; first he was called first I. in imitation of 
 
 the Roman republic, and afterwards emperor. Ee 
 soon put an end to the tumult-, cruelties, and dia- „ 1804 n a 
 ordi ired the Christian religion, and i tied emperor, 
 
 some very good laws founded on the old Roman 
 
 o o 2
 
 564 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect. 
 
 ones, which are called the Code Napoleon. Thus France was 
 the gainer for the time, although he was quite as despotic as 
 Cromwell had been. Unhappily he was very different from 
 Cromwell in the way he treated foreign nations. Oliver had 
 been quite satisfied to make the name of England honourable in 
 the eyes of Europe, but Napoleon could by no means be content 
 to do the same for France. Nothing would suffice him but being 
 master of all Europe. He very nearly succeeded. 
 
 10. For fifteen years he set up kings and put them down pretty 
 much at his pleasure. He took entire possession of the Nether- 
 lands, of a great part of Italy, of a great part of Germany. He 
 set up his brothers, or his generals, who were dependent on him, 
 in Spain, Naples, Holland, Sweden, and other places, so that 
 these became only vassal states to France. Most of what 
 remained were so weak and cowed as to lie almost at his feet. 
 
 11. The only country where freedom still lived was England ; 
 and it was because Napoleon Bonaparte saw that if England fell 
 all liberty would fall with her, that he became her deadly enemy. 
 England, in return, hated him with an intense and fervent 
 hatred. There were about 15,000,000 of inhabitants in England 
 and 40,000,000 in France. Napoleon felt sure, and said so, that 
 fifteen millions must give way to forty. Is it not enough to 
 make an Englishman's heart plow to think how, when so many 
 other great countries lay half dead, trampled by the tyrant's feet, 
 this little island stood manfully confronting liini, helped those other 
 nations to rise, and finally crushed him and his arrogance for ever ? 
 
 12. Though our navy had been victorious in many engage- 
 ments, our armies had at first been less successful. But as 
 
 Napoleon was rising to eminence in the French 
 
 ^■*} * army, another young officer of just the same ape was 
 
 Duke of rising to eminence in the English — Arthur Wellesley, 
 
 Wellington, known to us now as the L)uke of Wellington. He 
 
 had begun by distinguishing himself in India ; when 
 he came back to Europe he showed that he could cope with the 
 great marshals of France. (He and Napoleon met for the first 
 and last time at AVaterloo.) His first great European war was 
 in Spain, whither he was sent by the English government to 
 help the Spaniards in driving out the usurping French, who had 
 once more tried to make good the boast of Louis XIV., " There 
 are no more Pyrenees." 
 
 13. This, which is called the Peninsular War, went on for six 
 years ; and though Napoleon was not there, some of his best 
 generals, who were nearly equal to himself, were in command of
 
 i.v ] THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. 5G5 
 
 the French troops. Wellington, aided by the Spaniards as far 
 as they were able, gained many great victories and stormed some 
 important towns, driving the French atep by step before him, 
 and at last forcing them out of the country. Then Wellington 
 might have said on his part, " There are no Pyrenees." He 
 followed the retreating enemy into their own land, 4 
 
 and defeated them once more at Toulouse. 
 
 14. This was not the only misfortune which befell Napoleon 
 at this time, lie now began a tremendous quarrel with Russia, 
 which he had hii herto left alone. He was so determined to ruin 
 England that he had tried hard to hinder all nations from trading 
 with her, and amongst others Russia; but as it would have 
 done great injury to the Russians as well as the English to stop 
 their commerce, he could not get them to agree to it. That and 
 some other provocations drew Russia into the war, and Napoleon 
 determined to invade the country witli an immense army. This 
 was the turn of the tide. It was an awful expedition. The cruel 
 climate of Russia did the French armies almost more harm than 
 the ]i"o],lc. did. though they were brave, as heroes in detence of 
 
 their country. They even burnt down their ancient city Moscow, 
 to leave no refill" or protection for the invaders. What the 
 p • French BOldlerS Suffered from cold and starvation in their 
 
 long retreat is heartrending to think of. 
 
 15. The people of Germany, Austria. and Sweden were begin- 
 ning to lift their heads again, and to join together ngainsl their 
 op] i. And when Wellington and the English entered 
 
 I- ranee from the south, and their allies entered it from the north, 
 and marched into Paris, Bonaparte had towithdraw. 
 
 He resigned hi empire, and retired to the island of Bo ° a P arle 
 
 .... ... . ' ... retires to 
 
 l.llia, winch, 01 his vast dominions, was all lie was Elba. 
 
 allowed to keep. 
 
 16. lie did not stay there long; the very next year he came 
 bark to France. The army which he bad o often led tovictory, 
 which adored and was devoted to him, received him with open 
 arms and it seemed as if he would soon be a • powerful as ever 
 
 tin. Bui the English and their allies were too much for him ; 
 they were resolved ins tyranny hould afflict the world no more, 
 A great English army under the Duke of Wellington entered 
 the Netherlands, A I'm ian force under Marshal Blucher wu i 
 sent to join him. Wellington had come to be called 
 the Iron Duke now; blucher was known by his j*^' f 
 Boldiersas Marshal Vorwarts. The English encamped Waterloo 
 at Waterloo.
 
 666 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. [lect- 
 
 17. Napoleon was in high spirits; he felt sure he was going to 
 beat the English. It was a long battle — the greater part of a 
 summer's day. The Prussians had not arrived, and could not 
 arrive before evening. In the midst of the battle Napoleon 
 tin night he saw the English beginning to retreat; he sent off a 
 messenger galloping to Paris to say the field was won. Perhaps 
 it was after this that he said, " These English do not know when 
 tiny are beaten; according to all the rules of war they have been 
 beaten long ago, and yet they are lighting still !" The principal 
 conflict was a deadly one between the Ereneh cavalry and the 
 English infantry. The description of it reminds us of Wallace 
 and the Battle uf Falkirk, so many hundred years ago. It will 
 be remembered how he first taught the poor men who fought on 
 foot to stand against the proud knights on horseback; how he 
 formed his men in solid squares : the front ranks kneeling with 
 their spears projecting like a bristling and solid hedge; the 
 archers inside with their arrows and long bows. Wellington 
 formed his infantry on the same plan. 
 
 18. There were thirteen squares; instead of archers in the 
 middle they had cannon. The French cavalry, the cuirassiers, 
 '• 12.000 strong," writes the historian Alison, "in great part 
 clad in glittering armour, streamed up the slope in front of the 
 English line, and with loud cries and unparalleled enthu- 
 siasm tlnvw themselves on the squares." The infantry 
 remained immovable ; they seemed rooted in the earth. The 
 first rank, kneeling down, received the cuirassiers on their 
 bayonets; the second rank fired on them; behind the second 
 rank the gunners loaded their cannon; the front of the square 
 opined, a volley of grape-shot poured out, and the square closed 
 again. The Ereneh poet, Victor Hugo, gives us his idea of the 
 scene. "These squares were no longer battalions, they were 
 craters; these cuirassiers were no longer cavalry, they were a 
 tempest. Each square was a volcano attacked by a storm-cloud. 
 It was lava fighting against thunder." In the midst of it 
 Wellington said to one of those unflinching regiments, " Stand 
 fast, 95th ; we must not be beat ; what would they say of us in 
 England?" "Never fear, sir," they replied; "we know our 
 dut 
 
 19. The hours went on, and still the Prussians did not come. 
 Atlas! Napoleon sent, up bis Old Guards, the Imperial Guard that 
 had never been b-aten. Up the hill they came, as if nothing on 
 
 could resist them j they drove .back the line of English gun*. 
 Put Wellington had got his Guards too— the Foot Guards, which
 
 iv.] THE LAST WAR WITH FRANCE. 567 
 
 had not fought yet, and it was now evening. How they had 
 chafed and longed to join in the battle ; but they had had to wait. 
 The French did not know they were there ; they were lying down, 
 four deep, hidden in a ditch. At last the moment came, and 
 Wellington shouted, " Up, Guards, and at them!" Up they 
 sprang. From that moment the battle was decided. The French 
 Guards, fighting gallantly, began to give way nevertheless. The 
 English Guards slowly, irresistibly came forward, pushing the 
 mass of French before tbem. 
 
 20. The Prussian aid arrived at last ; and now those immov- 
 able squares, which had stood like rocks fixed in the earth from 
 morning till night, saw the duke ride to the front, wave his hat 
 in the air, and order them forward. " With joyful step the whole 
 line pressed forward as one man at the command of their chief, 
 and the last rays of the sun gleamed on 50,000 men, who, with a 
 shout which caused the very earth to shake, streamed over the 
 summit of the hill. The French, who had believed that the 
 British infantry was wholly destroyed, . . . were thunderstruck 
 when they beheld this immense body advance majestically in line, 
 driving before them the last column of the Imperial Guard. . . . 
 Despair now seized upon the French soldiers; they saw at once 
 thai all was lost, and horse, foot, and cannon, breaking their ranks, 
 fled tumultuously." 
 
 21. At last Napoleon himself fled also. But his brave Old 
 Guard would not fly ; they formed themselves into four strong 
 squares and Btood firm, [t was all in vain; they were pierced 
 through and through, cut down or made prisoners. There v 
 never a more utter defeat , 
 
 Napoleon could do no more; he yielded himself up to the 
 English, who sent him to St. Selena, a solitary island in the 
 Atlantic, where he died at last, having done uo more injury to 
 t he world. 
 
 22. Whilst this grand fight was being fought at Waterloo the 
 people of England were al church. It was Sunday, the eighteenth 
 day of June. Old people used to tell, not long ago, how every 
 one noticed the Psalms read on thai day : the ninetieth, ninety- 
 first, and ninety-second : -" Lord, Thou ha fc been ourrt fu i from 
 
 one generation to another L thousand shall fall beside thee, 
 
 and ten thousand at thy right hand ; bul it shall no\ come nigh 
 
 tl ... It md thing I i give thank i onto the Lord, and 
 
 to praise Thy name, O mo '> H h." 
 
 23. Ti the last, as well as the t, of our great 
 battles with Franco. It was a long, long time before they could
 
 568 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 forgive it. For many years they still hoped to avenge Waterloo. 
 For many years Englishmen and Frenchmen looked on each other 
 as natural enemies. But the anger and the pride and the jealousy 
 have died away now, and the two countries, so near to each other, 
 and having had so much to do with one another through all these 
 centuries, are now warm friends, and from their hearts wish each 
 other well. In the only great European war England has had 
 anything to do with since that time, the French and the English 
 stood side "by side as trusty allies.
 
 To face p 568 
 
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 CONCLUSION. 3G9 
 
 CONCLUSION. 
 
 1. Wa have now come so near to our own times that it i* hardly 
 possible to write any more history. We know too much and tuo 
 little. 
 
 We may have seen and heard many of the principal actors in 
 what has taken place, — eminent men, eloquent men, talented and 
 brave men, — and as yet we can hardly judge which of them were 
 the true leaders of the time We know, too, innumerable tacts and 
 events, but we cannot tell yet which of them are notable facts, that 
 will greatly affect the future, and which of them were interesting 
 only to out • i 
 
 2. In Borne respects it is evident that we have been carrying 
 nn the work of our forefathers : and in others it Beems as if we 
 been striking out quite new paths, which will lead we know 
 whither. 
 
 •">. We have learnt more and more of the value of religious 
 liberty, and the injustice and folly of religion pei ecution. Tho 
 
 Teal and Corporation Acts (see p. 500) have 1 d 
 
 quite done away with. It is true that, long before, ni) rt° U * 
 an Indemnity Acl had been passed nearly every year, 
 
 D nting mayors, common council-men, and ol 
 from receiving the sacrament at church. But at no one lik 
 be perpetually forgiven and excused when he has done nothing 
 wrong, it, was a relief to them when the oppr* 
 •. a openly pul an end to. 
 
 In the following year Roman Catholics w< re permitted to enter 
 parliament and to hold other office without taking the oath of 
 the royal supremacy, or declaring that they did not 
 believe in 1 1 tantiation. 
 
 Thirty years afterwards the oaths were alb i thai Jews 
 
 also might take their places in the II i Com- 
 
 1 loOa. 
 
 mons, 
 
 i. Changes of the same kind have also been made in the 
 
 universities; and Dissenters, Catholics, and -lews may now
 
 570 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 share in all the honours and privileges of those ancient seats of 
 learning. 
 
 Thus we may now say that religious liberty is granted to all ; 
 an 1 when we remember how in old times men and women were 
 burnt, tortured, imprisoned, fined, banished, only for worshipping 
 God according to their own conscience, we may well be thankful 
 for the days we live in. 
 
 5. At every one of these changes there was a great excitement, 
 and many people believed they would be the beginning of dread- 
 ful evils and danger to the safety and religion of the country. 
 But how has it turned out? We are quite sure, at any rate, that 
 the future historian of these times will not have to tell of such 
 things as the histories of old times are full of — no Gunpowder 
 Treasons, or Rye- House Plots, or fugitive Puritans. Why should 
 Catholics, or Dissenters, or anybody else make plots, or intrigues, 
 or [lee from their country now 1 They have all they need : they 
 have liberty, protection, and respect ; they have a share in the 
 government of their country , and, naturally, they love that 
 country better than they could do when they were kept down 
 and suspected, if not punished ami ill-treated. In this way 
 England returns to the unity which she seemed to have lost at 
 the Reformation. 
 
 6. In political matters too, as well as religious, we have gone 
 on strengthening and widening the constitution by what are 
 
 called Reform Bills — laws for enabling more and more 
 
 of the people of the country to vote for members of 
 
 parliament ; giving them, that is, a voice in laying on 
 
 the taxes they will have to pay, and in making the laws they 
 
 will have to obey. The evil condition of the House of Commons 
 
 was mentioned before, and the unfair way in which members 
 
 elected. Roth the Earl of Chatham and his son William 
 
 Pitt had seen how necessary it was to reform all this; to take 
 
 away the " franchise," as it is called, or the right of sending 
 
 jsentatives to parliament, from the Avretched little villages 
 
 with few or no inhabitants, and to give it to large and populous 
 
 places which sent none. Rut they were never able to achieve it ; 
 
 it was not till long after they were both dead that 
 
 1832 - the great Reform Bill was past. 
 
 7. These reforms caused a great deal of excitement and 
 
 commotion. The people were bent upon having their rights, 
 
 but the Conservative government, afraid of what they might 
 
 do with them if they once got them, held back. Then 
 
 the people broke out into riots and frightened them stdl 
 
 Reform 
 Sills.
 
 CONCLUSION. 571 
 
 more. It is worthy of notice that in these conflicts (lie princi- 
 pal nobles who had possession of the miserable little "rotten 
 boroughs" before described, and who had most of the unfair 
 power in electing the members of parliament, were among the 
 very first to see how unjust these privileges and powers were, 
 and were among the greatest promoters of the rights of the 
 people; while some of those who had begun by being poor men, 
 but who had risen by their talents and industry to be powerful 
 noblemen, were the most obstinate opponents of all reform. 
 
 8. After the pass * the Reform Bill the Conservatives 
 were greatly afraid of what mighl be done by the new parlia- 
 ment, which was really elected by the people, instead of only 
 partly by them, and partly by the nobles and the government. 
 They though! we should have- a revolution, and be as miserable 
 perh I I'-.- had he'll. But they were mistaken ; instead of 
 i ming more rebellious when they had got justice, they became, 
 as Englishmen naturally are, peaceable, obedient, and law abiding. 
 
 9. There were some alarms » or twice. The people wanted 
 
 some more privileges than they had yei got, and they banded 
 
 ther to demand another "charter" in which 1&48 Th 
 these mould be granted them. Some of these were chartists. 
 quite reasonable things, and others may 1"' so in 
 due course; bul the Chartists, as they were called from their 
 1 ■■.lit obtaining them in a wrong-headed manner. 
 
 They intended to preseul a petition to parliament, which they 
 had a full right to do; bul instead of presenting il in the 
 usual quiet manner, they assembled in an immense body to 
 
 . it tn the Souse themselves. This was clearly intended to 
 and frighten the members, and prevenl them from 
 acting according to their own free judgment. Therefore they 
 were not allowed to entei London in procession as they had 
 intended; but every on very anxious there should b< do 
 
 fighting, and no Boldier employed. Nearly all the gentlemen 
 and ti ri|.- men of London came forward to acl as special constables, 
 and the soldiers, who wan m readim b d il 
 
 ;'.-, were hidden oul of Bighl I • provoke no one. 
 
 There was no fighting ; hardly any disorder; no Wat Tyler nor 
 Jack Cade was put to death this time, The crowds went quietly 
 home again ; and by being patient tie j I idually obtained 
 
 much of what they asked for in a pea md lawful manner, 
 
 [n 1867 the Conservatives them mother 
 
 Reform Bill, extending the right of votu till 
 
 more of, t he people.
 
 672 LECTURES ON ENGLISH IIISTORY. 
 
 10. The worst part of all English history has been the treat- 
 ment of Ireland. From the days of Henry II. onward to the 
 
 days of Elizabeth, when Spenser wrote of that " most 
 Ireland. beautiful and sweet country as any under heaven ; " 
 from the days of Elizabeth almost to our own days, we might still 
 say as he did, " I do much pity that sweet land, to be subject to 
 so many evils, as every day I see more and more thrown upon 
 her." It has almost always been, "Ireland was in disorder; 
 Ireland was rebelling." People do not, as a rule, rebel when they 
 are happy and well-treated ; and when we read this over and over 
 again we naturally ask, Why? Unhappily the answer is not far 
 to seek. That the Irish were wild and turbulent, that they were 
 often treacherous and cruel, is undeniable, but that the English 
 were tyrannical, oppressive, and unjust is quite as undeniable. 
 
 Ireland was, as it was called, united to England in 
 
 1801. 1801 ; it ceased to have its own parliament, and, 
 
 ^Enffland! 1 mstead > sent members to the English parliament. 
 
 But the union was really disunion, and the Irish, if 
 possible, hated the English still more than before. England has 
 now for many years past striven to undo her evil work of old. 
 She has disendowed the Protestant Church, which was not the 
 Church of the people, but had been violently forced upon them, 
 and she has sought in every way to do justice, and promote the 
 peace and welfare of the country ; but though England has now 
 almost ceased to oppress, Ireland has not yet forgotten her old 
 oppression, and the " United Kingdom" is not so thoroughly "at 
 unity with itself" as we may hope it will be as time rolls on. 
 
 11. One of the must important changes that has been made 
 for the food of the whole kingdom is the repeal of the Corn Laws. 
 
 According to the ideas which had prevailed up till 
 
 1846. this time, Englishmen were bound to have no corn, 
 
 Repeal of or as little as possible, except what their own land 
 
 the Corn COVi \£ produce. This was considered to be good, not 
 
 only for the farmers and landlords, hut for the whole 
 
 country ; and it was said that if we had corn from foreign parts 
 
 ^■e should become poor dependents on those parts. Put as 
 
 England is a small country compared with the great numbers of 
 
 j pie who live in it, it could not produce corn enough to feed 
 
 them all. Bread was sometimes dreadfully dear, so that the poor 
 were half starving; while other countries had a great deal more 
 corn than they wanted, which they would have been glad to send 
 to us in exchange for other things which we could give them. 
 The Conservatives were averse to making any change, but there
 
 CONCLUSION. 573 
 
 were zealous and wise men in the country who saw that it would 
 be right, and determined that it must be done. 
 
 1 2. Xone of these changes were brought about without hard 
 labour and toil ; and when we are enjoying the fruit of that toil, 
 we "light to have sometimes a grateful thought of those who wun 
 it for us. In the midst of the struggle a heavy sorrow came upon 
 one of the leaders. He lost his wife, who was dearer to him, 
 perhaps, than his own life. It seemed as if the blow must 
 paralyze him, and Lave him no heart or spirit for labour. Then 
 one of his friends went to condole with lain. He knew he could 
 not comfort him, or bring back whal be had Losl ; but he thought 
 
 ould turn his sorrow into a noble resolve He bade him 
 remember in his pain how many other men, his fellow-country- 
 men, were Buffering the like; how many were mourning Eor wife 
 and child, needlessly torn from them, not by sickness or accident, 
 but by sheer hunger; how much agony and Borrow there was all 
 round which might have been saved by cheap bread. And then, 
 ii he was no! comforted, he was roused. II" " had compassion 
 on the multitude, because they had nothing to eat," and. made 
 stronger by Borrow, he joined the fight once more, and never 
 1 till it was won. 
 13. Another chan been the invention or Improving of 
 
 machinery and the Bteam-engine. Innumerable things which 
 
 , to be don,- by hand are now done by machines. 
 This seems as if ii must save a greal deal of human 
 labour, and product my more useful things; and so it 
 
 .inly- does : but whether the change is, on the whole, for the 
 
 happiness and improvement of man ie can ay. Work that 
 
 used to be dour quietly at home, a woman spinning at hi t door, 
 a man weaving al hie own Little loom, work too In whioh the 
 
 workers might take an hone i pride and plea are, i now. I m 
 
 enormous factorii , where people are gathered together for their 
 long day's labour; men here, women there, children elsewhere. 
 i,,lv have a fi at eff< 1 1 on their i baracters and 
 thoughts; but we are too much in the midst oi it a yet to judge 
 what that effect v. ill be. 
 
 1 t. A still greater change is in the spread of education. Ever 
 since the bej inning oi thU ■■ mar, the different religious bo 
 
 Church and the I 1 ' enters, had founded schools Education 
 for the poor ; and though thi nought at first, 
 
 by many people, a very wrong and dangerous thing to do, ii ia 
 now felt by everybody to be aduty. Th< anient th tbe| in by 
 
 helping the which had been founded by voluntary effi
 
 574 LECTURES ON ENGLISH HISTORY. 
 
 more lately school boards have been established, which build 
 other schools when those already in a neighbourhood do not 
 suffice, and which also employ people to look for the little wild 
 children of the streets and compel them to come in. Here is 
 indeed a contrast to the old days when a serf was hindered from 
 having his child taught to read or write ! "What the result will 
 be no one can foretell. We are sure that as the life which 
 surrounds a man will be different from that which surrounded 
 his grandfather, so will he himself be different in his thoughts 
 and hope from the thoughts and hope of his grandfather. 
 
 lo. We may be almost certain that as he is more educated he 
 will be more gentle. Looking back on the past, we see the 
 gradual growth of sympathy, which will surely not cease to grow. 
 In former days the rich and noble looked with careless scorn on 
 the poor of their own land; they were "rascals," "villeins," 
 bought and sold like horses and sheep. In former days the 
 Englishman hated all foreigners, looking on them as his natural 
 enemies, and always longing t<> ho fighting them. The races of 
 men which he considered, or which, perhaps, really were inferior 
 to his own, he despised, and treated as hardly human. The 
 American Indians were " tawny pagans," " grim salvages," and 
 4i rabid wolves." It was no more sin to kill an Irishman than 
 b> kill a dog; no more wrong to enslave a negro than to yoke an 
 ox. Against men of other religions his scorn and hatred went 
 
 1 in hand. It was a glorious deed to slay a Turk or a Jew ; 
 it was doing God service to bum a Protestant or mutilate a 
 Puritan. The lower animals had neither rights nor claims; they 
 were mere tools to be worn out in working for man, or tortured 
 for his amusement. 
 
 That all this is history now, that it has all vanished out of our 
 daily life and thoughts, we are far indeed from saying; but that 
 it is passing away, that much of it has already passed away, we 
 
 quite sure. If it were not so, we should be ready to say in 
 despair, "Then has Christ died in vain." The struggle is still 
 going on between selfishness and love. In the page we are 
 
 ing to the history of England it is for us to determine 
 of which there shall be recorded the victory.
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Addison, ")3'2 
 cola, 31 — 33 
 i, St., 34, 35 
 Alchemy, 300, 508 
 
 Alderman, meaning of the term, 42, 
 84 
 
 uid beer, -".18 
 
 Alfred, B ; in war, 72— 
 
 70: in peace, 77—83; his literary 
 
 : 
 
 Alfred, son oi I ■ 123 
 
 Alice Perron, 1, 311 
 
 Alphege,oi Elfheah.St, 110,111,119 
 Amei T. Bee < J 
 
 and 1 fnited States.) 
 An. J " l' 1 
 
 -. tli". 17. 61 
 
 -i English, Chronic le, 
 70. si. 107. los, li.',. L88, 17o 
 Anglo-Saxons, meaning of the term, 
 .'.1 
 m, 167, 172, 359 
 Ann- Boleyn, 116, 130 
 Anne of Bohemia, 320 
 Anne Stuart, Queen, 516, 5' 
 
 L64 
 Aquil 
 
 341 
 ;. 93, 126, 154, 218, 
 234 
 
 ida, tho S] 158 
 
 Armies, inediaei il, 
 
 .\ i my, - 176, 512 
 
 Arthur, K 201, 
 
 242 
 Arthur of Brittany 
 Ai \ hi familj . 
 
 . thi Bl ■ dy, '>1 1 
 
 iy, 224, 
 
 .\ .in', St., mission of, 62, 
 
 Bahington' plot. 452 
 Bai in, Lord, 169, 170 
 
 Bacon, B er, 225, 226, 27-1, 507 
 Balliol, John, 253, 254 
 Battles:— 
 
 Agincourt, 341, 342 
 
 Aston, 72 
 
 Austi rlitz, 563 
 
 Aylesford, is 
 
 Bannockburn, 2G6 
 
 B it, 
 
 Blenheim, 5 
 
 B isworth, 389 
 ae, 523 
 
 Bi unanburh, 86 
 
 Urecy, 271 
 
 Cullodi 11. 540 
 
 Dunbar, 190 
 
 Edgehill 
 
 l.t nandune, 76 
 
 I bam, 231 
 
 I 1 1 
 
 leo I ield, 111 
 
 II Senlao), L38 
 Herrin , tl 
 
 11 u 1 . 
 Bomildon Hill, 
 1 ■ 28] 
 Maldon, 105 -107 
 N 1 
 
 Nevilli l 
 .Nil-. 661 
 Pats 
 PI 1 
 
 540 
 
 St. 
 
 ,10 
 
 Sberilfinuir, 
 sin, wsbury, 
 spurn, tho, 108 
 
 . 137 
 
 1 
 
 Ton ' 
 rrafal) ir, 
 Veroeuil,
 
 57 G 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Battles :— 
 
 Wakefield, 364 
 
 Wars of the Roses (the 12 battles), 
 
 378 
 "Waterloo, 565 
 "Worcester, 490 
 Baxter, Richard, 499 
 Bayeux Tapestry, 132 
 Beaufort, Cardinal, 348, 357, 360 
 Becket, Thomas a, 183 — 190 ; as 
 courtier, 183 ; as archbishop, 1 84 ; 
 disputes with the king, 185—187; 
 death, 187 (see shrines) ; declared a 
 traitor, 430 
 Bede, the Venerable, 52, 58—60, 81 
 Bedford, Duke of, 332, 347, 355, 357 
 Bedloe, 505 
 Beggars, 374, 429, 460 
 Benevolences, 382, 387, 391, 469 
 Bertha, Queen, 53 
 Berwick, siege of, 254 
 Bible, the, 100, 309, 310, 382, 406, 
 
 424—429, 443, 462 
 Bishops, the Seven, 515 
 Black Death, the, 272, 281—283, 373 
 Blackheath, peasants on, 314, 361 
 131. .rk Hole of Calcutta, 546 
 Black Prince, the, 273, 276, 279, 285 
 
 -287 
 Blake, Admiral, 494 
 Bliicher, Marshal, 565 
 I idicea, 31 
 Boats, ancient, 21, 210 
 Bohemia, blind king of, 275, 276 
 1. hernia, Elizabeth, Queen of, 470 
 Bohemia, reformers in, 320 
 Bohun, Humphrey, 237 
 Bonaparte, Napoleon 563 — 567 
 Bonner, Bishop, 135. 4:;'.), 443 
 Books, price of, 310, 380 
 Bretwaida, the, 63 
 Brihtnoth, Alderman, 105 
 Britons, the ancient, 19—27, 35, 44- 
 
 50 
 Bronze period, the, 6 — 8 
 Bruce, Robert, 247, 262—266 
 Buckingham, Dukes of, 384 — 389, 
 
 169, 171, 475 
 Buuvan, John, 500 
 Burgundy, Duchess of, 380, 395 
 Burgundy, Dukes of, 339, 344, 349, 
 
 355, 357, 375 
 Burke, Edmund, 559 
 Burleigh, Lord (Cecil), 447, 450 
 Burnet, Bishop, 504 
 Byng, Admiral, 544 
 
 Cabinet, the, 538 
 Cade, Jack, 361, 362 
 
 Caedmon, 60 
 
 Ciesar, Julius, 19, 28—30 
 Calais, 277, 445 
 Canada, 543, 545 
 Castles, Norman, 149, 168, 172 
 Cavaliers, the, 472 
 Caves, 4, 48 
 
 Caxton, William, 380—382 
 Celtic races, 26, 49, 174, 246 
 Cerdic, 48 
 
 Charles I., 470—488; marriage, 471 ; 
 the Petition of Right, 475 ; arrest of 
 the five members, 481; civil war, 
 482 ; battle of Naseby, 485 ; trial 
 and execution, 487, 488 
 Charles II., 489; escape, 490; recall, 
 496 ; bribed by France, 507 ; death, 
 509 
 Charles the Great (Charlemagne), 62, 
 
 63 
 Charter of Henry I., 163, 207 
 Charter, the Great, 208—212 
 Chartists, the, 571 
 Chaucer, Geoffrey, 290, 327; his 
 
 " Poor Parson," 294 
 Chivalry, 192 — 195, 233, 266, 273, 
 
 296, 560 
 Christianity in the sixth century, 53 
 
 — bo 
 Church, the : influence of, 89, 91 ; dis- 
 putes between king and, 153, 154, 
 159, 178 — 180, 184 — 189, 202; 
 wealth of, 338 
 Churls, 42, 86, 89 
 Clarence, Duke of, 365, 375, 377, 383, 
 
 384 
 Claverhouse, 514 
 Clergy, celibacy of, 99, 179. 135,449; 
 
 worldlinessof, 294, 400, 425 
 Clive, Lord, 546 
 Cloth-weaving, 283, 284 
 Cnut, 111, 113—122; cruelty, 116; 
 
 reform, 117; pilgrimage, 121 
 Cobham, Eleanor, 359 
 Cobham, Lord, 3:37, 338 
 Colepepper, 480 
 I loli ridge, 558 
 
 Colet, Dean, 400, 405, 408, 489 
 Collingwood, Admiral, 562 
 Clonics, English, 397, 465, 545, 557 
 Colonies, Roman, 14 
 Columba, St., 57 
 Columbus, 396, 397 
 Comets, L03, 225, 508 
 Compass, mariner's, 397 
 Comyn, the Red, 263 
 Confession, 401, 435 
 Constitutions of Clarendon, 185, 188 
 Conversion to Christianity of the
 
 INDEX. 
 
 577 
 
 Britons, 33—35; of the English, 
 
 52 
 
 Copernicus, 398 
 Corn-laws, repeal of, 572 
 
 i A . -300, 569 
 Courts, Ecclesiastical, 179, 180, 328, 
 
 , the, 485 
 the, 514 
 rdale, Miles, 424 
 Cowper, 
 
 Cranmer, Archbishop, 422, 434, 436, 
 145, 150 
 well, Oliver, 465, 483—495; his 
 in li. land, 489; Btt- 
 . ih ath, 495 
 Cromwell, Richard, 195, 196 
 Cromwell, I 122, 429 
 
 1 iui en Eleanor's, 23 1 
 . 160, 195, 235 
 Cut!. ',■> 
 
 Danegeld, the, L23 
 
 -, the, 66, 66 ; settlemenl of, 
 77, 97 ; wai it, 101— 114; 
 
 triumph of, 1 1 1 
 
 Deny, ■>-'■'• 
 
 li 69, 270 
 
 I ' , papal, 2 
 
 401 
 
 , 614, 520, 521, •'• 
 I'm Independents, and I 
 
 byl 
 
 I I B iok, 103 
 1 1 Bt, 222 
 Dominii ins, 223, I II 
 
 D be, 265, 266, 331 
 
 I runcis, 166 
 Dr< . i. 51, 10, 92, 160,298, 
 
 301, 
 
 1 1 ■ v, Carl I ter, 149, Ml 
 
 D did! ird, 139,4 
 
 Dunsl - LOO 
 
 D pre-historio, I. I 
 
 I. .. British, 20; Teu- 
 
 ton, l" ; Early Engli h, 
 man, i 26, 160; Irish, 177; Welsh, 
 240 English, . 
 
 I 
 
 1 i of the n line, (3 
 
 I 
 
 I ,134,136,1 16, 166 
 
 I. 101, 117 
 
 Edinburgh, 66, '217 
 
 Edii ; 640 
 
 Edmund Ironside, 113, 111 
 
 Edmund, St.. 67, 68, 112, 119 
 
 Education, 58, 71, 224—226, 289, 298, 
 299, 379, 439, 553, 573 
 
 Edward the Confessor, 125—134 
 
 Edward the Elder, 84, 85 
 
 Edward the Martyr, 104 
 
 Edward I., 232 ; marriage, 234; con- 
 quers \\'ali>, 2i:>; banishes the 
 Jews, 244 ; conquest >>f Scotland, 
 254 ; second conquest, 262 ; death, 26 i 
 
 Edward II.. 265, 267 - 271 ; favouril ■> 
 of, 267, 269; resistance to, 268; 
 ion, 271 
 
 Edward III. -71: warwith France, 
 273 ; Bl ick Death, 281 ; discontent 
 in Engl mil, 285; death, 311 
 
 Edward I V., 365, coronation, 374 : 
 marriage, 374, 875; flight, 376; 
 return, :;77 : death, 384 
 
 Edward v.. 377, 384 
 
 Edward VI., 132 138 ; education, 
 134; pi ogress oi Protestantism, 136 ; 
 rolte, 136, 137 : death, 138 
 
 Edw in el Northumberland, 5 '■. 63 
 it, 63—66 
 
 l Hi anor, Qui en, 234 
 
 Elfrida, or flSlfthryth, 98, 104 
 
 Eliot, sir John, 173, 176 
 
 Elizabeth I Qn 133, 446— 
 
 461 ; lei- n, i i , ; religion, 
 
 l pi; death of Marv Stuart, 453; 
 the Spanish Armada, 466 — 168; 
 literature, 169 ; death, 161 
 
 Elizabeth W Iville, Queen, ■ 
 
 5 irk, Queen, 388, 890 
 07, IW 
 Emm i. Qui en, 112, 117 
 
 I'm,;. -m, 391, 108 
 
 Encl unmon land i, 294, 136, 
 
 : .1.17 ; com- 
 
 pared with Noi mans, I 140 J 
 
 nation, of wh L, 143, 
 
 I II 
 i 1, 418 
 
 if, pil, I 
 Ethultled, Lady "i the Mi i 
 • 
 
 • ; , . of \ 73 
 
 red the Unready, 1"! 1 L3 
 101 
 Ethel 
 Ethi Iwull 
 
 Evan 661 
 
 i inicati m, 1 J6, 
 
 In, li. 361 
 Falkland, 180 
 
 r t
 
 578 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Feudal system, 90, US, 149, 369, 371 
 
 Field of the Cloth of Gold, -ill 
 
 Fire of London, 502, 503 
 
 Fisher, Bishop, 419—421 
 
 Food: pre-historic, 4, 5, 7; Briton, 
 
 21 ; Teuton, 39; Irish, 175; Welsh, 
 
 240, 241 ; Scotch, 250, 251; English, 
 
 91, 301—304, 392, 465 
 Fox, C. J., 559 
 Foxc, book of martyrs, 424 
 Francis, St., 222 
 French B-evolution, 557 — 560 
 Friars, the, 223, 292, 293, 307, 427, 
 
 428 
 
 Gardiner, Bishop, 435, 440, 443 
 
 Gaveston, Piers, 207—269 
 
 George I., 535 — 539 ; first Jacobite 
 
 rising, 538 
 George II., 539 — 550 ; second Jacobite 
 
 riMiig, 540; foreign wars, 543; 
 
 Canada, 545; India, 545; state of 
 
 religion, 547 
 George III., 552 — 568 ; war with 
 
 America, 553 — 556; war with 
 
 France, 557, 561—568 
 George, Prince of Denmark, 528 
 ( rermain, St., 46 
 Gibraltar, 530 
 Gildas, 22, 45 
 Gin-drinking, 548 
 Giraldus Cambreiisis, 174, 239 
 Glastonbury, 33, 119 
 Glendower, Owen, 330 — 332 
 Gloucester, Dukes of, 319, 321, 347, 
 
 349, 358, 360. (See Richard III.) 
 Gloucester, Earl of, 107, 169, 170 
 GOD, Aryan names for, 43 
 Godwine."Earl, 118, 124, 128—131 
 Gower, 291, 314 
 Greek, study of , 398, 399 
 Greenwich, 409 
 Greenwich Hospital, 625 
 Greenwich Observatory, 508 
 Grey, Lady Jane, 139, 140, 142 
 Guienne, 172 
 Gunpowder, 226, 274 
 Gunpowder Treason, 466, 467 
 
 Hampden, 465, 473, 474, 477, 481, 483 
 
 Hampton Court, 414, 416, 489 
 
 Hanover, 543 
 
 Hanover, House of, 535 
 
 11 irold Barefoot, L23 
 
 lian.ld, son of Godwine, 129, 131 — 
 
 138 
 Harthacnut, 123 
 Hastings. Lord, 384, 385, 386 
 Hengist and ilorsa, 47 
 
 Henrietta Maria, Queen, 471 
 
 Henry I., 162—167; education, 103- 
 charter, 103; marriage, 164; treat- 
 ment of the English, 165 ; death of 
 bis son, 166 ; death, 167 
 
 Henry II., 170 — 192; marriage, 171; 
 dominions, 172; conquest of Ire- 
 land, 177; disputes with Becket, 
 184—187; penance, 188; family 
 troubles, 191 ; death, 192 
 
 Henry III., 216 — 231 ; Westminster 
 Abbey, 218; papal extortions, 220 ; 
 foreigners, 227 ; extravagance, 228 ; 
 the parliament, 230; death, 231 
 
 Henry IV., 322—334; chosen kintr, 
 326 ; ipersecutes Lollards, 327 ; 
 rebellions and troubles, 330 — 332; 
 death, 334 
 
 Henry V., 329, 335—345 ; war with 
 France, 339, 341 ; conquest of Nor- 
 mandy, 344 ; marriage, 345 ; death, 
 345 
 
 Henry VI., 347—377 ; crowned in 
 France, 355 ; character, 358 ; mar- 
 riage, 358; loss of France, 361; 
 civil war begins, 303 ; death, 377 
 
 Henry VII., 367, 378, 388, 390— IDS ; 
 benevolences, 391 ; alliances, 394 ; 
 the Renaissance, 395 
 
 Henry VIII., 408—431; Color, 409; 
 Wolsey, 112 ; marriage with Katbe- 
 rine of Aragon, 394; divorce, 417; 
 bead of the Church, 418; publishes 
 ill' Bible, 429; other marriages, 
 430; death, 431 
 
 Heptarchy, the, 51 
 
 High Commission, Court of. 475, 179 
 
 Highlanders, Scotch, 20, 217, 534, 
 515 
 
 1 111. la, St., 60 
 
 Hotspur, llenrv, 331, 332, 335 
 Households, noblemen's, 301, 302, :,92 
 I Inward of Effingham, Lord, 450 
 Hundred years' War, 273, 361 
 Hyde (Lord Clarendon), 480, 481 
 
 Independents, 483 
 
 India, 545 
 
 Inquisition, 441 
 
 [nterdict, the Pope's, 203, 213 
 
 In l.md, 17n; conquered by Henry 
 II., 170; English settlements in, 
 177, 489, 522 ; Essex in, 401 ; rebel- 
 lion, 479; Cromwell in, 489; Janes 
 II. in, 552 ; trade, 554; union with 
 England, 572 
 
 Irish Church, the, 56, 57, 173, 176, 
 572 
 
 Irish kings, 175, 177, 320
 
 INDEX. 
 
 579 
 
 Ironsides, Cromwell's, 483 
 Isabella, Queen, 268, 270, 271 
 
 in, 521, .535, .538 — 541 
 
 James J.. 453, 462—471 ; the Puri- 
 tans. 464, 465; the Romanists, 166, 
 -i* J7 ; the parliament, 469 ; death, 
 471. 
 
 II.. ,506, 509 — 517; Mon- 
 mouth's rebellion, 510 ; the universi- 
 ty -. 613 : lip' se\ en bishops, 515, 
 516; birth of a prince, 510 ; flight, 
 •017; death, 527 
 
 Jeffreys, Judge, 311. .513, 519 
 
 Jews, 1'.'."., 196, -21).-), 244, 213. 
 133, 569 
 
 John, 192, 198—214 ; death of Arthur, 
 199; leu of Normandy, 200; 
 puie with the Pope, 202 205 ; sub- 
 mission, 206; signs the Charter, 
 ;;, 211 ; death, 
 211 
 
 John IUll, 313 
 
 John ..i (Jaunt, 286, 307, 311, 312, 
 318, 
 
 Johnson, Dr., 310 
 , the, 17, 31 
 
 Katherin m, 394, 113, 117 
 
 Bishop, 31 1. 313. 321 
 
 2ii, 17, 18, -1. 63, 313, 314, 
 
 112 
 I. not absolute, 86, 269, 322, 12:;, 
 
 181, -is 
 I. of, 127, L28, t87| 
 
 Kirk-, Colonel,610 
 
 l. . 1 iui, 1-jI 
 
 ■ Hi. "t. 
 I. 
 
 1 r, Earl of, 268 
 
 1 John "i 
 
 Lanfranc, 164 
 
 I. I.-. Willi.,!,,, 
 
 I ton, Stephen, Archbishop, 
 
 213, 2l:» 
 
 /, 12. I). 1 12, 
 I nance, 16, 1 12 ish, 141 
 
 J 1 3, 288 
 
 I. Basque, 26, 1 1 1 
 
 Latimer, Bishop, 127. 128, 137, W3, 
 111 
 
 Laud, Archbishop, 171. 173, 179 
 
 I I , Ron 13 
 
 1 B . 21)1 
 
 1. ter, l. Hi- -1. 2:11. 149, I'll 
 
 Limoges, siege of, 285 
 
 llyn, 212, '243 
 Lollards, the, 327, 337, 372, 400 
 London, 109, 166, 282, 337, 455, 502 
 L'liidnii Stone, 32, 362 
 Lords Onlaiiicrs, 269 
 Louis XIV. of France, 506, 522, 527, 
 .329 
 
 Macbeth, 122. 128 
 Machinery, 573 
 M indeville, Sir John, 2 
 Manny, Sir Walter, 277. 282 
 Margaretof Anjou, 358, 364, 377 37S 
 .Mary. Queen fTudor), 133, WO -*45; 
 marriage, 112; England reconciled 
 to the Pope, 1 13 ; persecution of the 
 Protestants, 1 13 1 13 ; death, 1 16 
 Mary, Queen (Stuart), 513, 520, 323. 
 
 .Mary, QueOD oi Scots, 1 is. 151 131 
 
 Massacre of the D mes, 1 10 
 Massacre of St. Bartholomew, 4.31 
 Marlborou b., I lui b,< is of, 628, 529, 
 
 630 
 Marlborough, Duke of, 516, 618, .529, 
 
 630 
 Matilda, Empn i . Mi';, L69 
 Matilda, Queen, liii 
 Matthew Paris, 220 
 Men !, 84 
 
 Metals, woi king in, 6, S, 20 
 M. ih. Mi i . 649, 660 
 Mile End, 316 
 Milton, 173 196 
 M inorca, 63 I . oil 
 Minstn I- and gleemen, 92, 120, 197 
 
 Miracl the royal touch, 128, 
 
 Mil i. plaj . 169, 160 
 
 '>i i i ; i 661 
 
 Mon - ,297, 104, 129, 
 
 130 
 Monk. Gem ral, 196 
 Monmouth, Dm i ol 610 
 \\ onl toil, Simon di . 
 M -nths, old names of, B i 
 Monti 
 
 Sir I h. ; 106, W9, 117, 
 
 lis. 119 
 ler, Ho 
 
 .;in 
 M ..■ m< i. i; 271 
 
 i 
 
 loi 
 
 i .o 
 
 N ivy, 7i 
 Neolithic !"■: i 
 
 ,, Lord, 661 
 
 162 
 
 P r 2
 
 r>so 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Newfoundland, discovery of, 397 
 
 Newspapers, 526 
 
 New Testament, 310, 407; burnt at 
 
 St. Paul's, 127 
 Newton, Sir Isaac, 513 
 Nobles, power of, 309, 371, 391, 392 
 Nonjurors, 521 
 Non-resistance, doctrine of, 404, 512, 
 
 521, 532 
 Norman Conquot, 139 
 Normandy, 125; Harold in, 131; 
 
 Henry 1. in, 105; lost by John, 
 
 200; conquered by Henry V., 343, 
 
 344 
 Normans, the. Ill, 125; in England, 
 
 127, 131, 110, 117, 172, 173; in 
 
 Scotland, 247 
 Northampton, peace of , 266, 271 
 Northumberland, 50, 03, 86, 151, 152, 
 
 256 
 Northumberland, Earls and Dukes of, 
 
 324, 325. 331, 392, 438 
 Nova Scotia, 531 
 
 Oates, Titus, 504, 505 
 
 Oaths, 132, 232 
 
 Oath of allegiance, 521 
 
 Offa, 63, 64 
 
 Olaf the Dane, 109 
 
 Ordeal, trial by, 102 
 
 Orleans, Dukes of, 339, 342 
 
 Orleans, .Maid of, 351 — 356 
 
 Orleans, siege of, 349 — 354 
 
 Palaeolithic period, 2—5 
 
 Pale, the, in Ireland, 177, 488 
 
 • \ power in England, 121, 136, 
 137 : encroachments, 153, 151, 213, 
 21'.). 306; extortions, 219, 221, 292; 
 end of, 1 15 
 
 Pardons, selling of, 293, 308, 403 
 
 Parliament : old Teuton, 12; English, 
 229—231; under Edward 1., 236; 
 Edward HI., 286; Richard II., 
 319, 325; Henry IV., 326; Henry 
 V!.. 362, :;72; Edward IV.. 382 ; 
 Kiehard III . 386, 387 ; Henry 
 VI J.. 390, 391 ; Mary, 413; James 
 I.. 107. 468; Charles I.. 17 1, 475, 
 ; the Lou- 17s 496; Crom- 
 well, 186, 192; the Revolution, 513; 
 '" irge II., 512. 513; modern, 570 
 
 Paston library, 379, 380 
 
 Paul> Cathedral, St., 134, 426, 502 
 
 Paul'.- School, St., loo, 407 
 
 Peninsular War, 501, 565 
 
 Pep] s, Samuel, 190 
 
 Percies, the, 331, 368. (See Northum- 
 berland, Kails of.) 
 
 Perkin Warbeok, 394, 395 
 
 Peterborough, 68 
 
 Petition of Right, 475 
 
 Philip of Spain, 410, 447, 44S, 151, 
 
 153, 458 
 Philippa, Queen, 270, 277, 285 
 Pictures in churches, 181, 182, 314, 
 
 351, 435 
 Piers the Ploughman, 290, 293 
 Pilgrim Fathers, -105 
 Pilgrimages, 120, 121, 100, 102 
 Pilgrimages, Canterbury, 189, 291, 106 
 Pitt, William, Earl of Chatham, 513 
 
 — 547, 555 
 Pitt, William, the second, 556 563 
 Plague, 501. (See Black Death.) 
 Plantagenet, meaning of the name, 
 
 172 
 Poitou, 172 
 
 Pole, Cardinal, 413, 445 
 Poll-tax, 312, 317 
 Poor-law, 100 
 Popes: Gregory the Great, 52, 81; 
 
 Gregory VII., 153; Innocenl III., 
 
 202; Alexander VI., 400; Julius 
 
 II., 401; Gregory XIII., 452 
 Popish plot, 504—506 
 Praamunire, Statute of, 320, -110 
 Praise-God Barebone, 473, 102 
 1 'raver-book, the English, 122, 436, 
 
 450 
 Prerogative, royal, 468 
 I 'resbyterians, 103, 469 
 Press, liberty of, 525 
 Pretender, the old, 535, 538 
 Pretender, the young, 539 — 51 1 
 Printing, invention of, 379 — 382 
 Prisons. 100, 551 
 Purgatory, 102, 403 
 Puritans, no, 164, 465, 473, 486, 498 
 
 —500 
 Pym, 465, 473 
 
 Qucbee, siege of, 515 
 
 Raleigh, Sir Walter, 405, 466 
 Randolph, 205. 203 
 Reform Bills, 570, 571 
 Reformation, dawn of. 306 — 311 : in 
 
 Crinany, 414 ; in England, 405 — 
 
 445 
 Relics, 54, 101, 133. 158 _ 
 Renaissance, the, 395, 105 
 Representative government, 230 
 Revolts of the people, 151, 313—317, 
 
 301,430, 437, 442, 510 
 Revolution, French, 557 — 560 
 Revolution, the Great, 518 
 Reynolds, Sir Joshua, 553
 
 INDEX. 
 
 5S1 
 
 Richard I.. 102. 195— 19S 
 
 Richard II., 312 sants' re- 
 
 volt, 313; lii- ancles, 318; mar- 
 riages, 320, 321 ; banishes Henry of 
 Lancaster, ■VI'.', • d position, 325; 
 death, 326 
 
 Richard III., 365, :I77. 378, 383— 389 ; 
 coronation, 386 ; government, 387; 
 OHirderof the prim death, 389 
 
 Richn. nd, Count 1. 387, 389 
 
 Ridley, Bishop, 438, 143, ill. 450 
 
 Rivers, Lord, 376, 381, 
 
 rt. Duke of Normandy, 1-3.5, 158, 
 161, I'm 
 
 r -i Wendover, 199, 22S 
 
 Rom. ins, the, '■> — 17: in Britain, 28 — 
 35; depart from Britain, M 
 
 . Wars of the, 318, 319, 340,363 
 —378, 389, 390 
 
 B -', of, :ill 
 
 L72 
 
 Royal Academy, 6 
 
 i 
 
 Runnj mi 
 
 Rnpert, I'm:, b, 182 
 
 Sacheverell, I 
 
 Sail 
 
 Sanctnai v, right of , 1 0, ..7'', ! 77 
 
 I 
 
 William, ■ 
 Saxons, the, 17, .",1 
 
 e "t, 16. 246, 2 17 
 mission to Edward 1 he Elder, 80 ; to 
 1 l t, 122; war of 
 
 Hi 189 ; old laws 
 
 'J is, 249; 'i lion, 
 
 262 ; war wi 
 
 tllionce with 
 l 
 
 ■ I rt I. km:-. 345, 
 
 Jame 
 
 Stuart VI. bei 
 
 ( harlot 1. and, 
 
 II 11;, 190 ; utii" n 
 with England 
 Serl 
 
 Sbal 
 
 Ship-money, 17'', 177 
 
 Min . 189, 219, 
 
 I'M,. 
 
 slave trade, I I .1. 171. 176; 
 
 . 567 
 Slaves, 16, 87 
 
 Somerset, Dukes of, 3 0, :.71, 134. 
 437, 138 
 
 d, 394, 110. 470. 529, 564 
 Spenser, 459 
 Star- Chamber, 475, 479 
 Stephen, 167—169 
 Stirling ( last le, siege of, 266 
 Stone, the sacred, 255, tie, 462 
 
 henge, 8 
 Strafford, 1 ... ) 1 of, 474, -175, 479 
 Straw, Jack, 313 
 
 Stronghow, Earl of Pembroke, 176 
 Succession to the throne, rules of, 74, 
 115, 198, 199, 215, 326 
 Ik, link.- of, 368, 360 
 Sunday schools, 551 
 Surnames, 289, 313, 333 
 
 Sussex, 61, ■'>' 
 
 tus, 12. 31, '7 
 Taxation, 162, 210, 229, 237, 268, 382. 
 
 474 
 Teal Act, 500, 501, 520, 642, 669 
 Teutons, the, I I 1, 61, 62 
 
 'I oani . or tin gn . 86 
 Theatres, 169, 460 
 Thorough, Strafford's scheme of, 476, 
 
 ills, S7 
 Tilburj . Queen I llizabeth at, 456 
 
 . introduction of, 466 
 Toleration, 620, 521, 56 I 
 Tonnage and poundage, 171, 4~o 
 1 . 172, ■ 
 To ;i r, LSI, 133, L37 
 Tournaments, 194, 283 
 1 . , !wtn of, 16 
 
 Ti iple A Lliani 
 
 Troj 
 
 'I umuli, 6 
 
 Turn.,. .1. M. v,'.. 553, 562 
 1 : Je, 124 
 
 . War i.f [ndepend- 
 
 1 
 
 ■ '!. II I. • 
 
 10 
 
 1 of, 531 
 
 Vaudi n of , 194, 
 
 \ illi 
 
 : battle, 194. 3 
 Wall . Pi ■ e <.f. the title, 243; the 
 
 motto, 
 Wallace, Sir William, 267—262 
 Wall-. Roman, 81 
 
 : le, Hoi 
 Walpole, Bii I ..:.",, 512, 643
 
 5S2 
 
 INDEX. 
 
 Warwick, Earl of, the king-maker, 
 
 367, 375 — 377 ; the last Planta- 
 gcnet, 395 
 Wat Tyler, 313—316 
 Week, names of the days of, 43 
 Wellington, Duke of, 561:— 567 
 Welsh, the : origin of the name, 49 ; 
 religion and education, 49, 69, 239; 
 ,-ul .mission to Edward the Elder, 
 85; to Edgar, 97; rebellion, 131 ; 
 manners and habits, 239 — 241 ; con- 
 quest bv Edward L, 243 ; war with 
 Henry IV., 330—332 ; peace, 393 
 Wesley, 549 
 
 W( ssex, 48, 51; Egbert, King of, 64, 65 
 Westminster Abbey, 133, 134, 'J IS, 
 232, 255, 286, 342, 346, 363, 376, 
 379, 387, 389 
 Whigs, 472, 537 
 Whitefield, 549 
 Whitehall, 414, 416, 482, 489 
 Wilherforce, William, 556, 557 
 Wilfrid, Bishop of Sussex, 57, 89 
 "William I., first visit, to England, 130; 
 claims the kingdom, 134, 135 ; in- 
 
 vades England, 13S; King of Eng- 
 land, 145—156; ravages Northum- 
 berland, 151 ; resists the Pope, 154; 
 death, 156 
 
 William II., 157—162 
 
 William III., 513,516—527; tolera- 
 tion, 520; war in Ireland, 522; 
 death, 527 
 
 William of Malmesbury, 125, 145, 146 
 
 \\ itan, or Witenagemot, 78, 87, 115 
 
 Witches, 102, 353, 359, 509, 533 
 
 Woden, royal family descended from. 
 43, 63, 127 
 
 Wolfe, General, 545 
 
 Wolsey, Cardinal, 411—417 
 
 Wolves, 21, 97 
 
 Wordsworth, 558 
 
 Wvnii's rehellion, 442 
 
 Wyc.liffe, 291, 306—311 
 
 York, Archbishops of, 185, 221, 332 
 
 117, 125, 480 
 York, Constantine at, 36 
 York, Dukes of, 318, 324, 360 362 
 
 364, 385, 506 
 
 
 
 
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