w^iih 'iU'j'M .-,:•^^■^> BOADICEA. Cassell's Illustrated HISTORY OF ENGLAND. CONTINUED TO THE END OF 18 73. VOL. I. FROM THK EARLIEST PERIOD TO THE REIGN OK EUUARU THE KOUR'lH. Cassell Petti: r & Gal pin London, Paris & New York. I/. I PREFACE \HE preceding edition of this History has been most carefully corrected and revised, and the Publishers are thankful that the present one has not failed of a success more than equal to that which had attended its predecessor. The expecta- tion which led them originally to publish and now to issue this revised edition of a liistory of this great country so as to meet the want of the great masses which compose so large a portion of it, has not been disappointed. It is almost as vain to write the praises of history as it is unnecessary to write its apology. Whatever doubts may be entertained as to the merits of the classics as a means of education, history stands above all suspicion, and is pre-eminent not only as a means, but even aa an end of knowledge. We may regard history as in some sort the story of ourselves under circumstances different from those in which it finds us; which circumstances, however, time often repeats with remarkable similitude of detail. It is, indeed, more than this ; it is the narrative of national as weh as of individual life, and — in a higher aspect still — it is the narrative of the great human race. But even if we look on it only as a vast collection of biographies, we can hardly exaggerate the importance of its voice to us. It teaches its votary something of himself and of his kind which the profoundest pliilosopher without it could never know. If we except Nature and Revelation, what else is there beyond the domain of history ? Indeed, it is the complement of these, and with these fills up all experience and all thought. But if this be true of universal history, it is true in a sense more confined and yet more intense of the history of oiir own country. The exceeding interest of this latter will let none of us escape. It is our text-book in childhood, but we have not grasped its wisdom or exhausted its pleasure in age. We delight in it, not merely because it tells of our own fathers and our own homes, but because it, more than any other, presents the broad surface of tho people ; because it is concerned, not only with kings, and statesmen, and warriors, but with the toilers at the plough, and at the counter, and at the desk — with the great middle class, whose growth in extent and power forms so large a portion of its page ; because it exhibits a unity of design and a continuity of action which is not so patent, even if it exists, elsewhere ; because it leads by marked gradations through the practical logic of great principles to that national product which wa now enjoy with so much pride and satisfaction ; because it is the voice of a people whose language is mors wide-spread and more potent in the ears of friends and foes than that of any tongue on earth, and is enriched with science and with song to which few others can aspire. On the other hand, the history of this country, as of all others, presents a corrective to that national pride and self-sufficiency which it may at first seem to engender. We, too, have come forth fix)m the dark ages dyed with their superstitions and their crimes. We have lingered long indeed upon the threshold of this more exalted time. We can boast no great, unbroken unity of race, religion, and polity, as the Jew of other days might boast with justice. The Reformation found us as it found others, and did not find us first. We have made great national mistakes and committed great national crimes in our policy at home and abroad, and the sciences of pohtical and domestic PREFACE. economy are only beginning to take hold upon us. Our liistory clearly points out that our geographical position may well dispute with the genius of the people the merit of making us what we are ; and our geographical position and our mineral wealth are blessings for which we cannot thank ourselves. The slow building of a constitution which finds no parallel in the world is the most distinctive, as it is the largest, feature in English history. But this does not render it a mere monotonous political dissertation. The movements of the people are broken in upon by wars from without, and tumults and revolutions from within. Great actors and great thinkers come upon the sight, and for a moment nothing else is seen. How all these pressed on, or modified, or retarded the destiny of the nation is matter of difficult but most instructive research. How the various units of the great mass, which history can seek out, acted under the changing circumstances of the time, and moved under the diverse influences of events, of passion, and of principle, is matter pregnant with instruction to each of us. Nor is there instruction for the head alone. The whole of the complex nature of man is wrought upon. History tlu'usts upon the stage at once, or in quick and continued succession, tragedy, and comedy, and farce ; and, as we weep, and laugh, and wonder, we must not forget that we are in the theatre, not of fancy, but of truth, and that every event, however slight, every entrance and every exit, possesses a real meaning and a real importance. It is often difficult, some- times perhaps impossible, to discover this meaning and this importance ; but even wjien we cannot perceive the connection between individual actors and the conduct of the plot, the individual cannot be utterly devoid of interest and instruction. An unimportant personage or a slight event may bring before us the spirit of the times, and the progress of lesser transactions, which are so apt to be lorgotten in the great action of the moment. To the statesman, no doubt, the study of English Jiistory is of special importance, and he learns from it the genius of our constitution, and finds in it precedent, example, and warning peculiar to himself. But we all have an interest in the state, though it be not such as his, and we all find in that history precedent, and example, and warning. As every day adds to our knowledge of the past, it should add to our wisdom for tlie future ; and if we do not profit in heart and head by the experience which the ages have gathered for us — if we do not grow, as they would have us, not only in wisdom, but in humility, in moderation, in humanity — we have to blame, not these unerring teachers, but ourselves. ILLUSTRATIONS TO THE FIEST VOLUME. FbONTISPIECE— BOADICEA. The Druids inciting the Britons to Op- pose the Landing of the Romans Dmidical Kemaius at Caruac, in the De- partment of Morbehan, France Stoneheuge (restored) Druidical Monuments (restored) at Abui-y. Wiltshire Caledonians, or Picts Landing of Julius Ctesar •■- Juhus Ccesar. From a Cameo in the Imperial Library, Paris ■ Eoman Soldiers passing over a Bridge of Boats The Romans leaving London Roman Architecture in Britain : Capital — Masonry at Colchester — Cornice, Basement, Doorway at Bird-Oswald ... Sections of the Wall of Eichborough Castle Coins Struck dniing the Boman Period in England The Piratical Invasion of the Saxoas under Hengist and Horsa Newport Gate, Lincoln Roman Urns The Treaty of Peace between the Saxon Leaders and the British King Defeat of the Saxons by Arthur Saxon Arms Egbert Alfred the Great The Murder of Cenulph, King of Wessex Alfred in the Neatherd's Hut Edgar the Pacific rowed down the Elver Dee by Eight Tributary Princes Athelstan's Ring Ed^vy dragged by Dunstan from the Presence of Elgina The Ecclesiastical Council convened by St. Dnnstan Drawing of the Crucifixion. Harl. M.S. Assassination of Edward the Martyr ... The Sister of King Sweyn murdered in the General Massacre of the Danes by the Saxons, A. D. 1002 Danish Arms and Armour ... Meeting of Edmund Ironside and Canute in the Isle of Alney Canute reproving his Courtiers Danish Tumuli, Essex Canute the Great Harold Swearmg to Maintain the Right of the Duke of Normandy to the Throne of England The Death of Hardicanute TVilliam, Duke of Normandy The Shrine of Edward the Confessor, in Westminster Abbey Building of the Tower of Babel. Saxon MS .Saxon Abchitecture : Tower of Somp- tiag Church — Window of Deerhurst Church — Window of Jarrow Church — Doorway of Barnack Church ... • Tower of Earl's Barton Church 20 Anglo-Saxon Calendar A &LXon Blacksmith ■So^on BeU Execution of a Criminal. Saxon MS. ... flaxon Calendar At a Banquet given by Harold he re- ceives the News of the Invasion of the Noruiana Saxon Game at Bowls An glo-Saxon Vessel Emus of Hastings Castle Death of Harold at the Battle of Hastings The Norman Thanksgiving alter the battle of Hastings ... ... William the Conqueror Finding of the Body of Harold Coronation of William the Conqueror ... Arms of Willi-.iui tlie Conqueror Silver P«-niiv und Great Seal of William me Conqueror 71 73 73, 76 77 PAGE Eougemont Castle, Exeter 9-* BattleAbbey 96 Hereward cutting his way through the Norman Host 97 Plan of a Norman Castle 98 Clifl'ord's Tower. York 99 Depopulation of Hampshire to form the New Forest 102 WilliamtheConquerorand his Son Robert 103 View of Lincoln, showing the Kuins of the Castle 106 William II.. sumamed Eufus 108 The Death of Conan 109 William Eufus and the Soldier Ill Statue of William Eufus in the Choir of York Cathedral 113 Bamborough Castle H** Pope Urban II. preaching the First Cru- sade ^^5 Eoman Model, representing the Palm Tree of Judea ... 117 St Helena discovering the True Cross. Greek MS 118 The Army of Peter the Hermit 120 Bird's-eye View of Christian Constanti- nople 121 Statue of Godfrey of Bouillon at Brussels 123 Marble Column raised by Arcadius at Constantinople ;■ 125 Throne of the Emperor of Constanti- nople. Greek MS 126 Santa Sophia _ • 127 Circus and Hippodrome of ancient Con- stantinople 128 Costume of an Empress of Constanti- nople. Greek MS. 129 Crown of an Empress of Constantinople. Prom an Arab Medal 129 Movable Tower 131 Sword of Godfrey of Bouillon 131 Tomb of Godfrey of Bouillon 131 Templars 132 The Death of William Rufus 133 Fragment of a Copy of the Evangelists, in Latin. Tenth Century 135 of an Ode to Mecsenas. Tenth Century 135 Anglo-Saxon Writing of Sixth Century... 135 Latin Papyrus of Third Century 136 Saxon Dinner Party. Cotton MS. ... 136 Gleemen Juggling. Ditto ... 137 Balancing ... ... ... ■■- •■• 137 Musical Instruments. Caedmon MS. .. 137 Dance. Ninth Century 138 Grand Organ 138 Nonnftu Costumes of Eleventh Century 139 Harp. Ninth Century 140 Ladies Hunting. Eoyal MS 140 Hawking. Cotton MS 140 Umbrella used in Hawking 140 Harold. From the Bayeux Tapestry ... 140 Training the Falcon 141 Sword Play 141 Bob Apple 141 Saxon Crowns 141 Anglo-Saxon Costume 142 __! Shoes 142 Ladies' Costume 142 Cloak-pin, Buckle, and Pouch. Twelfth Century 142 Anglo-Saxon Dinner Party 142 CHairs, Candlestick, Saxon Bed 143 Norman Vessel. Twelfth Century ... 14:i Comb in Ivory 143 Military Costumes. Twelfth Century ... 144 Gisarme— Nonnan Soldiers and Bowmen 144 Woman Spinning 145 Noble Ladies of Normandy ... 1 45 Sacramental Wafer-box 145 Bayeux Tapestry 147 Great Seal of H enry 1 1-48 Robert of Normandy at the Castle of the Count of Couversauo 150 Marriage of Henry I. and Matilda .. 151 Statue of Henry I. in the Choir of York Cathedral 152 PAor Henry I l^i Robert of Normandy a Prisoner in Car- diffCastle 156 Matilda, Queen of Henry I. 157 Shipwreck of Prince William, Son of Henry I .■• 159 King Henry bewailing the Loss of his Children 160 Stephen 162 The Battle of the Standard 163 Silver Penny of Stephen 164 Signature and Seal of Pope Innocent II. 164 Great Seal of Stephen 165 Effigy of Roger, Bishop of Sarum, in Salisbury Cathedral 166 Stephen taken Prisoner 168 The Empress MatUda and the Queen of Stephen 169 Revolt of the Citizens of London £ jainst MatUda 171 Statue of Stephen in the Choir of York Cathedral 172 Flight of Matilda from Oxford 174 Meeting of Stephen and Prince Henry at Wallingford 175 Statue of Henry II. in the Choir of York Cathedral 176 Great Seal of Henry II 177 Silver Penny, Henry II 177 Henry II 178 Entry of Henry and Eleanor into Win- chester 180 Becket at the Head of Seven Hundred Knights 181 Progress of Thomas h. Becket through France .- 186 Defeat of the English by the Welsh at Berwin 187 Murder of Thomas h Becket 190 Henry II. doing Penance at the Tomb of Thomas h Becket 192 Siege of Waterford. The City taken by Assault 193 Spoon of Twelfth Century, used at the Coronation of the Kings of England ... 196 Meeting of Henry and Louis on the Plain near Gisors 19i> Penance of Henry before the Shrine of Thomas ii Becket. From an ancient painting on glass 199 Efiigy of Eleanor, Queen of Henry II. ... 203 Richard Cceur-de-Lion drawing his Sword on the Cardinal-Legate of the Pope ... 20i Richard Coeur-de-Lion beside the Dead Body of his Father 205 Norman Architecture : — Norwich Castle 207 Hedingham Castle, Essex 207 Early Norman Capital 208 St. James's Tower, Bury St. Edmunds 209 St. Botolph's Priory 209 Portion of a Doorway, Durham Cathedral 209 Eichard I., Coeur-de-Lion 210 Eichard causing the Gold and Jewels to be Weighed in his Presence 211 Crown of the Twelfth Century 212 Statue of Eichard I. in York Cathedral... 212 Shield of a Templar 213 View of part of the Town of Genoa. From an ancient Engraving 214 Medals of William I. or William II. of SicUy 214 Falcons 215 Richard Cceur-de-Lion before the Shrine of St. Jauuarius 21^ Isaac of Cyprus praying Coeur-de-Lion for the Restoration of his Daughter ... 217 Plan of Acre in the Fourteenth Century 219 Machine for Tbro%ving Stones, used at the Siege of Acre 220 " Save the Holy Sepulchre" ... * ... 22? Ricbard Cceur-de-Lion at Jaffa 223 Coins of Sovereigns of the Seljuk Dynasty 225 Eichai-d Cceur-de-Lion 226 The Bishop of Salisbuiy before Saladin... 238 Ylll ILLUSTEATIONS TO THE FIRST VOLUME. PAGE Bichord Coeur-de-Lion surprised by the Austrian Soldiers 229 IiongcUamp, the Chancellor, arresting Hugh PuJsey, Bishop at Durham 231 Eichai-d CuDur-de-Liou before the Diet of the German Empire 231 John knceUug for Forgiveness before his Brother Eicliard 235 The Death of Longheard 210 Priests interceding with King Richard for the Bishop of Beauvais 241 Effigies of Richard I. and Berengaria ... 2i3 Great Seal of King John 2J5 Richard CcEur - de - Lion receiving his Death-wound 246 The Death of Prince Arthur 247 King John 252 John kneeling in Homage before the Pope's Legate 253 John refusing to Sign Magna Charta ... 258 Rage of John after the Signing of Magna Charta 259 SpecimenoftheWritingof MagnaCharta 260 Dover Castle 264 John's Passage of the Wash 265 Great Seal of Henry III 267 The Head of Eustace le Moine carried on a Pole 270 The Barons enforcing their Bights from Heurv III 271 Henry in 276 Banquet at the Marriage of Henry III. and Eleanor of Provence 277 The Battle of Taillebourg 282 Interior of Westmiuster Hall — the Bishops pronouncing Sentence of E.v- communication a^inst all who should oppose the Charter The Bishop of Worcester meeting the King of the Romans London Bridge in the Thirteenth Cen- tury — Escape of Queen EleaiiOr Henry III. at the Battle of Lewes Combat between Prince Edward and Baron Adam Gourdon Cuxular part of the Temple Church, LouJou ... Akchitectdre of thk Thirteenth Cen- TDUY : Capital, Sahsbiiry Cathedral — Capital, Lincoln Cathedral — Tooth Ornament, Lincoln Cathedral ... SouthTransept of Beverle.v Minster Departure of Henry and Eleanor to the * Holy Land Great Seal of Edward I Tomb of Henry III. in Westminster Abbey Edward I. presenting his Infant Son to the Welsh Edward I Baliol doing Homage for the Crown of Scotland Earl Warenne displaying his Title to his Estates Edward I. at Berwick Origiu of the War between France and England Quarrel between Edward I. and the Earls of Norfolk and Hereford Death of Comyn Wallace Crowned with Laurel in West- minster Hall Carlisle Castle "Tomb of Eleanor, Queen of Edward I., in Westmiuster Abbey Marriage of Edward II. and Isa'bella of France Groat Seal of Edward II Edward II Surprise of Edinburgh Castle The Battle of Bannockburn Berkeley Castle Depositiou of Edward II 283 288 289 291 294 295 299 300 301 303 313 318 319 324 325 330 331 334 337 339 312 343 349 354 355 PAGE Great Seal of Edward in 358 Edward III 360 Reception of Phihppa of Hainatdt at London 361 Mortimer's Hole, Nottingham Castle ... 366 The Troops of Lord Montacute in the Subterranean Passage 367 The Battle of Sluys 373 Genoese Bowmen 375 Edward the Black Prince 378 Combat between French and English Cavalry at the Passage of the Somme... 379 Queen Philippa interceding for the Bur- gesses of Calais 385 Edward the Black Prince presenting King John of France to his Father Edward III 390 The Battle of Poictiers 391 Combat between English and French Knights in a Square at Limoges ... 397 The Death of Edward III 403 Great Seal of Richard II 406 Richard II 408 The Widow of the Black Prince appeal- ing to Wat Tyler for Protection from the Mob 409 John of Gaunt 414 Wycliffe appearing before the Prelates at St. Paid's to answer the Charge of Heresy 415 Death of Wat Tyler 421 John Wycliffe 426 Richard II. asserting his Authority ... 427 Betrothal of the French Princess to Richard II 432 Arrest of theDukeof Gloucester 433 Combat between the Earls of Norfolk and Hereford stopped by the King ... 438 Meeting of Richard and Lancaster at FUnt Castle 439 Pontefract Castle 442 A Scandinavian God 445 Shipping of the Year 1269 447 Prior of Southwick's Chair. Thirteenth Century 418 Parliament assembled for the Deposition of Richard II. Harl. MS 450 Siege of a Town in the Fourteenth Cen- tury 451 King and Armour-bearer. Thirteenth Century 452 Ciborium. Tliirteenth Century 453 Cr02ier. Thirteeuth Century 453 Costume of a Bishop of the Fourteenth Century 454 Efflgy of Jocelyn, BisboD of Salisbury ... 454 Fac-simile of Part of a Page oi Wycliffe's Bible 455 Author and Copyist Writing 456 Roger Bacon 457 Matthew Paris 459 Geoffrey Chaucer 462 The Queen's Cross, Northampton ... 463 Decorated Architectdre : — Building of St. Alban's Abbey. Cotton MS 464 Window, from Meopham 465 . St. Mary's, Beverley .... 465 Decorated Capital, from Selby ... 467 Ball-flower 467 Four-leaved Flower 467 Ruins of Croylaud Abbey 468 Edward II. and the Minstrel 469 Dance of Fools 470 Dancing Bears and Monkeys. Harl. MS. 471 Woman Churning and Blind Beggar ... 472 Blacksmith of Fourteenth Century ... 472 Penny of Edward 1 473 (supposed) of Edward II 473 Groat of Edward III 473 English Merrymaking in the Fourteenth Century 475 Bed of the Tliirteenth Century 476 PAGE Efficy of Matilda Fitzwalter at Dunmow 47() Abbot's Chair. Thirteenth Century ... 476 Pilgrim. Ditto 477 Stocks. Ditto 477 Saddle of the Time of Edward II. ... 477 King at Table. Fourteenth Century ... 477 Shoes of the Time of Edward II 478 Tilting Helmet found at Lynn. Thirteenth Century Mourning Costumes of the Thirteenth Century Head-dresses of the Time of Henry III. Stool-ball. Fourteenth Century Card-playing. Ditto Horsemen Tilting. Twelfth Century. Royal MS Henry IV Great Seal of Henry IT Owen Glendower's Oak "ThR Return of the Douglas across the Border Restoration of Isabella to her Father ... The Field of the Battle of Shrewsbury ... The French Fleet reaching Milford Haven Execution of the Archbishop of York ... Judge Gascoigne Reconciliation of the Dukes of Burgundy and Orleans Owen Glendower Judge Gascoigne and Prince Henry Tomb of Henry IV. and his Queen in Westminster Abbey Great Seal of Henry V Henry V Cradle of Henry V Room in the Lollards' Tower French Carpenter and Maid Servant The Battle of the Carpenters and Butchers P.arliament of Henry V. Harl. MS. ... Azincourt— King Henry V. and the Sire doHelly Ruins of Monmouth Castle Reception of Sigismund on the Coast of England The Mass in the Abbey Church of Mar- montier Rouen Cardinal Ursini's Visit to Henry V. Armour of Fifteenth Century— Great Hall at Brougham Hall Assassination of the Duke of Burgundy 553 Tomb of Henry V. in Westmijister Abbey 555 Paris in the Fifteenth Century Funeral Procession of Henry V Great Seal of Henry VI HenryVI The Duke of Brabant driving away the Ladies of his Wife Jacqueline Cardinal Beaufort's Chantry, Winchester Cathedral Joan of Arc at the Assault of the Tournelles 478 479 479 480 4S0 4S1 4k: 487 493 485 498 499 503 505 SIO 511 613 516 517 518 519 522 523 520 529 531 535 511 US 547 552 558 559 564 565 567 Burning of Joan of Arc Death of Cardiual Beaufort Queen Margaret, from a Tapestry in St. Mary's Hall, Coventry The Tower of London Death of the Earl of Shrewsbury Siego Operations (Fifteenth Century) ; a French Town taken by the English ... Richard Duke of York claiming the CroAvn Edward IV Queen Margaret and the Bobber of Hexham Great Seal of Edward IV First Meeting of Edward IV. and Lady Elizabeth Gray Coinage of the Fifteenth Century Preaching at St. PaiU's Cross. Fifteenth Century „t". ^,' Warwick visiting King Henry VI. m the Tower 570 571 677 5S2 683 5S9 594 595 601 606 607 608 613 615 C)» CAS SELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. THE DRUIDS INCTTINT, ; THE nMTONS TO OPPOSE THE LAJ(D1NQ OF THE K6MAN3. ^See U. o.\ CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [450 B.C. CHAPTER L The First Inhabitants of Britain — The several Nalions and Tribes who settled there— Variety ( f Stati-s— Tlie Druids: llieir System— Social and Moral Condition of the Brilons. Separated from the contiuent of Europe by the sea, Britain seems to have been but imperfectly kuown to tlie historians of antiquity. Herodotus, who wrote 450 years before Christ, is stipposed to have included it among the Civssiterides, a group of islands lying off the coast of Corn- wall, better known as the Scilly Isles. Aristotle, a century later, speaks of Albion and lerne. Strubo, the coteniporary of Csesar, informs us that the Phceniciaiis carried on a con- siderable commerce with the Cas^iteii les, where they obtained lead, tin, and skins ; an-l that, so jealous were they lest any other nation should participate in the advantages of the trade, the captain of one of their ships, finding him- self pursued by several Roman galleys sent to discover the island, purposely led them on a shoal of rooks, rather than betray the route, and suffered shipwreck with them. His countrymen compensated him for his loss. Pliny has recorded the name of the navigator who first brought lead from the Cassiterides : — *' Plumbum ex Cassiteridi insa'a primus apportavit .Midacritiis." i/i.il. Hal. Most writers have agreed that Britain was first peopled by the Gauls, or, more properly speaking, the Celta;, who came over from the neighbouring contiiient ; and adduce the ideutity of language, government, and religion of the two nations in support of tlieir opinion. As population in- creased, the inhabitants of the island gradually became divided into a variety of tribes or states, each having a Bepiirate chief, who was far, however, from exercising a despotic power, urdess in time of war ; in peace, the supreme authority, as is frequently found among b irbarian nations, was vested in their Druids or priests, who combined with the sacerdotal office those of legislator and judge. The historians of antiquity commonly give the name of Celts to the greater part of the inhabitants of Central and Western Europe. Two distinct peoples have been con- founded under it, both in Gaul and Britain — the race of Gael, and that of the Cimbri. The irruption of t'le Scythians, which occurred seven centuries before the Christian era, dispersed the Cimbri. Vast hordes of the litter nation settled in the countries be- tween the Lower Danube and the mouth of the Elbe, and, in course of time, invaded a great part of Gaul. According to tradition, the first of the race who settled in Britain was named Hu the Cadarn, or Hugh the Powerful. Another chief, named Prydain, son of Aed the Great, came over at a later period, anl being a great legislator, as well as a warrior, gave his mine to the entire island, since corrupted into Britain. AVhitaker, in his '• History of Manchester," contends that the island derives its name from the Celtic root, Brit, which Bigtiifies broken or separatctl, in allusion to the large number of islands composing the group to which the name was originally applied. Many fierce contests, doubtless, ensued before the Cimbri succeeded in establi.-hiiig their authority ; but that they did succeed in doing so, there can be no reason- able doubt. The Gaels gradually submitted to their yoke, although they still continued to form the most important part of the population. Many other bands of eniigrants succeeded: amongst others, the Belgse (a people of Gaul, but of German origin), who landed on the southern coast, and gradually extended themselves over the country comprised between the Thames, the Severn, and the sea. Tims we see that the inhabitants of the island were com- posed of different tribes and nations. The most ancient at the time of CjE'ar's expedition were — The Silures, established on the borders of the Severn. They had extended their authority over the Ordovices and Dimetje. The country inhabited by these three races com- prisi s the Principality of Wales. The western part of the island, as far soitth as the Bristol Channel, was inhabited by the Damnonii, a colony of whom afterwards settled in Gaul, and gave the name of the country they quitted to La Ba-sse Bretagne. The western coast was occupied by the Belgje. On the left bank of the Thames were the Trinobantes, a comparatively weak race, but celebrated for having laid the foundation of London ; which was so insignificant a place in the time of Csesar, that he docs not condescend to mention it in his " Commentaries." Between the Trinobantes and the Silures were the Atrebates, originally from Artnis ; the Dobuni ; and the Catti, whose renowned chief, Cassibelan, was the leader of the confederated tiibes and nations against Csesar and his legions. From the country of the Trinobantes to the AVash, the eastern coast was occupied by the Iceni ; the Coritavi were settled between the Wash and the Humber. The Cornavii inhabited the west ; and from the Humber to the Tyne existed the Brigantes, the most powerful of the nations which inhabited Britain; they were divided into several confederate states, and renowned for their fierceness in war. Between the Coritavi and the Brigantes were the Parisii. From the north of the Tyne to the plains which form the Lowlands of Scotland, were five nations known as the Masetre. The fierce and savage tribes, inhabitants of the highlands, were comprised under the general name of Caledonians. Such were the various people and tribes designated in the time of Croar as Britons ; a motley population, preying on each other, savage as the wilds in which they dwelt; de- pending for existence on their flocks and herds, or the spoils of war and the chase. The country was little better than a wilderness, having neither roads nor canals, and so thickly covered with wood that but little space was left for cultiva- tion. The form of government in the island was as divided aa the races which inhabited it. In the south the monnrchical form generally prevailed ; whilst the patriarchal system pre- dominated in the north amonyst the Gaels, where the chief of each tribe, and the heads of families on their own domains, exercised eovereign authority, always subjected, however, to the influence of the Druids, who were regarded with the most profound veneration by all classes of the people. Tlie religion of the Druids was d.trk and mysterious aa the gloomy forests in which it first drew birth, and in whose deepest recesses they celebrated their cruel rites. From time immemorial it had existed amongst the Gaels, who in- troduced it into Britain when they first settled in the island. Its ministers built no covered temples, deeming it an insult TO 55 B.C.] THE EARLY HISTORY OF BRITAIN. to their goda to attempt to enclose their eraWe:iis in an edifice surrounded by walls, and erected by mortal hands; the forest was their temple, an.i a rough, unhewn stone their altar. They worshipped Tecanus, another name for J upiter, the god of thunder ; Mercury and Murs, under the appella- tion of Teutates and Ilesus; Apollo, whom they designated Belenus; Diana, as Arduiue ; and Andate, the goddess of victory. Besides these— who may be regarded as their superior deities, they had a great number of inferior ones. Each wood, fountain, lake, and mountain had its tutelary gesius, whom they were accustomed to invoke with sacrifice and prayer. The priests of this terrible idolatry were divided into three separate orders, under the command of a chief, who was elected for life, whose power was unlimited, and who alone was suftered to pronounce the fearful sentence of which presided over the organisation cf this tremendous priesthood, which concentrated all authority in its hands. Its ministers placed themselves between man and the altar, permitting his approach only in mystery and gloom. They wrought upon his imagination by the sacrifice of humac Hfe, and the most terrible denur.ciations of the anger of their gods on all who opposed them. As the instructors of youth, they moulded the pliant mind, and fashioned it to their purpose; as the judges of the people, there was no appeal against their decisions, for none but the Druids could pronounce authoritatively what was the law, there being uo written code to refer to ; they alone possessed the right to recompense or punish : thus the present and future welfare of their followers alike depended upon them The severest penalty inflicted by the Druids was the in- terdiction of the sacrifice to those who had offended tbem. DruiJicJ Remains at Camao, in the Department of Morbihau, France. excommunication, which deprived the victim of sacerdotal wrath of all civil rights. The first of these divisions consisted, properly speaking, of Druids only ; they were the interpreters of the laws, which they never permitted to be committed to writing, the instructors of youth, and the judges of the people — a tremendous power to be lodged in the hands of any peculiar class, but doubly dangerous when the ignorance, cruelty, and superstition of the race they tyrannised over are duly considered. The second class, the Eubates. may be looked upon in the light of the working clergy ; they were charged with the sacrifices and divinations. The last and inferior division was those of the Bards, whose duty it was to preserve in verse the memory of any remarkable event ; to celebrate the triumph of their heroes ; and, by their exhortation and songs, excite the chiefs and people to deeds of courage and daring on the- day of battle. It u» impossible not to be struck by the profound cunning Woe to the unhappy wretch on whom the awful sentence fell ! He ceased to be considered a human being. Like the beast of the forest, his life was at the mercy of any one who chose to take it. He lost all civil rights, and could neither inherit land nor sue for the recovery of debts ; every one was at liberty to spoil his property ; even his nearest kindred fled from him in horror and aversion, as firom the pest. With such a tremendous weapon at their command, no wonder the Druids were all powerful. We have since seen it used, in comparatively modern tkaes, by the ministers of a purer and more enlightened faith, with a similar effect. It is now time to give some account of the dogmas of this extinct superstition, once the general faith of Britain. Like the monks of the middle ages, the Druids of the higher orders lived in community in the remote depths of the vast gloomy forests, where they celebrated their rites. In these retreats they initiated the youthful aspirants for the sacer- doce, who frequently parsed a novitiate of twenty years CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [460 B.C. before beiug admitted. Disciples of all ranks flocked to ibeoi, despite the severity of the probation, tempted, no doubt, by the honours and great privileges attached to the order, amongst which coemption from every kind of taxa- tion and servitude were not the least. The Druids taught the immoitality of the soul, and its transmigration from one body to another, till, by some extraordinary act of virtue or courage, it merited to be received into the assembly of the gods. C'. Such was the institution of Druidism, on which so many opinions have been expressed. To judge it properly, the reader must not lose sight of the epoch in which it Stonehenge (restored). Of these the most remarkable in England arc Stone- henge, consisting of 130 enormous stones, ranged in a circle; and that of Abury, in Wiltsliire, which covers a space of twenty-eight acres of Ian 1. But the largest of all the Druid temples is situated at Carnac, in the department of ISIorbihan, in Franco. It is formed of 400 stones, vary- ing from five to twenty-seven feet in height, and ranged in eleven concentric lines. It is difficult to say precisely from what source the Druids drew their doctrines, wliich have a striking affinity with those of Pythagoras and the sagos of the East ; probably it was from the latter they borrowed them. It was not the least singular of their dogmas, that tlie earth wliich we inliabit had passed through— and was still to experience — a variety of changes, but would never hi destroyed. They knew something of botany and medicine, but mingled with the latter certain magiciJ and superstitious practices. flourished ; that cruelty and super.stition were, before the Christian era, the common errors of mankind. Would we could add that they ha city from the north. It is supposed to have had a large central arch, and two smaller ones at the sides, that on the west having been destroyed, the larger being about fifteen feet, and the les-ser ones seven feet in width. It is built of square! stone, out as far as the top of the arch, of remark- ably large sizj. It is without ornament of any kind, but is said by Riokman to have had architrave and impost mould- ings. That of the architrave, if it ever existed, has entirely disappeared ; but there is, or was lately, a small portion of the impost moulding remaining, on the wcot side of the large arch. The masonry, which exhibits none of the usual bands of tiles so frequent in other buildings, will be best under- stood by the engraving on page 22, which gives every stone in its proper place. There is another piece of Roman work in the neigh- bourhood of Newport Gate, which is a piece of wall built with ashlar and bonding courses of tile. It is known as thf Mint Wall. Section of the Komau Vi'.M. But perhaps the most interesting of all the Roman remains in Britain is the Roman Walt., which reaches across the narrow part of the island in Nortliumborland auil 10 A.D. -120.] KOMAN WALL IN EJNGLA.ND. 21 Cumberland, commeucing at Wallsend, ou the Tyoe, rua- ubg tlirough Newcastle and Carlisle, and terminating at Bowness, in Cuiuberlan(L A most iuttrcsting and fully iilustrated acjouut of this wall tias be.Mi given to the world by the ll'jv. J. CoUingwooJ Bruce, from which work we Lave (by the kiui permission of the author) copied the pre- ceding illustrations. The conquests of the Romans in Britain had been carried by Agricola as far as thj Friths of Forth and Clyde ; but after his recall, the natives had recovered possession of their own soil, and matters fell again into confusion. " Li the year V20 — thirty-five years aftjr the recall of Agricola — affairs in Britain had fallen into such confusion as to require the presence of the Emperor Hadrian, who had assumed the imperial purple three years before. He did stance was announced to the world in another coin, bearing, ' on the reverie, a name destined to sound through regions I Hadrian never knew — Brit.\sni.\ ; and representing a I female figure seated on a rock, having a spear in her left hand, and a shield by her side." It is curious to observe how clo-ely this figure resembles that on the modern coins, the chief alturations being th;it the spear is changcf Kent. ^■^' ■■■' ■"" '""' """" Etbelbald, a prince of but little capacity, reigned not quite three years after bia father's death, his brother Etbel- bert succeeding him. In the reign of the /ast-named king, the Danes once more renewed their ravages in England, and penetrated as far as Winchester, from which city they were beaten back to their ships at Southampton by Osrick, and Etbelwnlpb, two Saxon carls. On their l.mJiug, in the autumn of the same year, in the father's will, mounted ibe throne, to the exclusion of the late monarch's cbildrcu. The reign of the new sovereign was short and unfortunate. He wa.s continually engaged in repelling the incursions of the Danes, who began to entertain the design of making themselves masters of England. One of their leaders, Ivar, having informed himself of the state of the island, landed with bis armyonthecoastof Wessex,and marched as far as Reading, Etbelred fought uo less than nine battles with the invaders, and ilied of a woimd be received at Wittingliam in 871. 02 CA SHELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 871 During lii3 reiga the Danes plundered and destroyed the cel-.-brated monasteries of Croylaud, Ely, and Peterborougli, as well as that of Coldingham. Alfred, his brother, succeeded him. CHAPTER VIL Reign of Alfred the Greit— Wars with the Danc3, who finally obtain Settlements in the Country. It is impossible to treat of the reign of a monarch to whom England owes so much, and whose memory is still revered, without feelings of respect and veneration commensurate with the benefits he conferred upon his countrymen, who^e gratitude has accorded the noblest recotnpense in the power of a nation to bestow — ^the epithet of Great. His [iredece.^sor, as we perceive, had left the affairs of the kingdom utterly disorganised, when Alfred, who hitherto I had lived in comparative obscurity, succeeded liini ; but that obscurity had doubtless been favourable to the development of those rich qualities of mind, which, however luxuriant and promising the soil, require time and study to ripen and perfect. The Danes, already masters of Northumbria and East j Anglia, were in the very heart of the kingdom of Wessex ; I and, notwithstanding the many battles Ethelrod had fought with them, they were in possession of several towns; and , not only maintained their position in the island, but had ' reason to hope they should soon complete the conquest of it. The new ni'jnarch had only been a month on the throne, when he found himself obliged to take the field against these formidable enemies, who had advanced as far as Wilton, whither Jxe marched to attack them. Victory for some time inclined to his side, then suddenly changed in favour of the Danes ; but Alfred's loss was not so considerable as to mike him despair, though the victory certainly belonged to the enemy. He laboured incessantly to put his army in condition to give them battle again, before thoy should be ' reinforce 1; they were astonished at his expedition, and, : though victorious, sue! for peace, finding themselves unable to continue the war. As they offered to march out of his | dominions, on condition he would not molest them in any other part of England, Alfred accepted their offer, and gained by this treaty time to prepire against a new inv,ision. The Danes, quitting \Vessex, retired to London, which they had taken during the late war. Ivar was gone back to Denmark, having left the command of the army to his brother Hubba, who, being prevented from attacking Wes- sex, turned his arms against Mercia. Buthred, its king, knowing he was unable to resist, since Alfred was bound not to send him any succours, thought it his wisest course to buy off the Danes with a sum of money, and save his CO lutry from their depredations. Upon the receipt of the money, they marched towards Northumbria, designing to take up th.'ir quarters with their countrymen ; but their provisions running short, in consequence of the devastations they themselves had made there, they were under the necessity of returning into Mercia. Before they had left Northumbria, they deposed Egbert, whom they had placed on the throne, and put Rccsige, a Danish earl, in his room. Buhred, finding they were come again into his dominions, complained of their breach of faith ; but without regarding his complaints they obliged him to give them another con- siderable sura to save his country from the destruction it was threatened with ; and no sooner was the money paid, than they fell to plundering and ravaging, and Buthred found that even his own person was in danger. The fear of falling into their hands obliged him to abandon his king- dom, and retire to Rome, where he spent the residue of liis days in the English college. Mercia being thus left without a king, and Alfred being prevented by his own treaty from lending any assistance, the Danes without difficulty became masters of that kingdom, and raised Ceoluph, a servant of Buthred, to the throne, till they could otherwise dispose of it. Aware of the slight tenure of his office, the new ruler resolved to make the utmost of his time, and so oppressed the unhappy Mercians that they suffered more from the tyranny of their own countryman than the rapacity of the conquerors. AVhilst Alfred flattered himself with the hope of enjoying comparative peace, new calamities were preparing for his unhappy country. A large party of Danes, under Halfden, landed in England, and surprised Warkam Castle, the strongest fortress in Wessex. The king was obliged to pur- chase his retreat. The invaders swore on the holy relics never again to set foot in Wessex — an oath which they quickly violated. From the very nature of their government, no treaty could bind the Danes as a nation, seeing that it was com- posed of a variety of chiefs and petty powers, who entered into associations independent of each other. The successful return of one expedition merely proved an incentive to others of their countrymen to follow in their track. Alfred, finding it was in vain to conclude treaties with such a perfidious race of people, resolved to take more effectual measures to secure himself from tlieir treachery. For this purpose he convened a general assembly, and repre- sented to them that they had nothing to trust to but their own valour and courage, to deliver them from their miseries ; and urged upon them the absolute necessity of venturing their lives in defence of their country, and of sacrificing part of their estates to preserve the remainder. His eloquent remonstrances having produced the effect he expected, an army was immediately levied, with which he engaged the enemy seven times in one campaign ; but as fortune was not equally favourable to him in all these engagements, he was once more constrained to treat with the invaders ; and though he could have no great dependence upon their pro- mises, it was the only way by wliich he could put an end to a disastrous war. The new treaty, in which the Danes undertook not to return any more into Wessex, was some- what better kept than the former one. The West Saxons looked upon the retreat of these for- midable enemies as a great deliverance ; but they were yet far from the climax of their miseries. This band, which had struck them with such terror, were scarce gone, when a new swarm arrived, under the command of RoUo, the famous Norman general, who became afterwards the scourge ol France. Fortunately, Alfred was in some measure prepared to receive them ; and after several attempts, Rollo, despairing of procuring a settlement in England, resolved to go in quest of one in France. In all probability, finding the best part of England in possession of his countrymen, and Alfred ready to dispute the rest with liim, ho imagined he had a hotter prospect in that country. Some superstitious chroniclers TO A.D. 901.] E.E1UX OF ALFRED. 33 inform U3 it was revealed to Rollo in a dream that he should found a kingdom in France. After his departure, Alfred enjoyed a repose, which afforded him leisure to revolve means to prevent these fre- quent invasions ; and he ultimately determined to equip a fleet, and engage the Danes before they came to laud, where they generally had the advantage ; and as the latter had not contemplated being engaged at sea, their ships were only fit for transports, whereas those built by Alfred were coustructed for warlike service. It was not long before he reaped the fruit of this wise precaution ; for hus fleet meeting with six Danish vessels, gave chase to them, and one of the largest being taken, the soldiers and mariners were thrown overboard. This first engagement was followed by a much more considerable one. 120 sail of Danigh transport ships making to the shore in order to land their men, the king's fleet attacked them, and sunk the greatest part of them ; and the next year another Danish fleet sailing westward, met with so violent a storm, that all the ships perished, except a few which fell into the hands of the Englibh. Alfred, encouraged by these successes, resolved to attack the Danes in the west, where they had fortified themselves by the taking of Exeter, and where the Cornish men had always taken part with them ; and he ultimately obliged them to give him hostages, and entirely abandon ^Vessex. They retired into Jlercia, where they became confounded with the rest of their countrymen. A year before these events occurred, Halfden had elevated Egbert to the throne, in place of Recsige. The invaders were in possession of three of the kingdoms of the Heptarchy ; but this was insufiicient to satisfy the hordes who were continually pouring in upon the devoted island with the design of settling ; and an expedition was consequently planned, with the greatest secrecy, against Wetsex. The attack took place so suddenly that Alfred was ill prepared to meet it. Chippenham was taken, and the dispirited Britons no longer felt courage to prosecute the war. Many fled, whilst others — and of them not a few — leagued themselves with the Danes, swciiriiig allegiauco to them. So general was the defection, that the unhappy monarch found himself deserted by all but a few domestics and faithful friends, who still adhered to his fallen fortunes. In this extremity, he showed himself greater, perhaps, than when on the throne, and acted with a pru(3ence and wisdom wliich few princes would have found courage to imitate. He dismissed them all ; and, with no other support than his courage and patriotism, set forth a wanderer, alone, and on foot, in the kingdom he had so lately reigned over. So great was his poverty, that the uncrowned king was compelled to solicit shelter in the hut of a neat-herd in the island Athelney, in Somersetshire, i. remote spot, sur- rounded by a dangerous marsli, wild and desolate as his own fortunes, and only to be approached by a single path, and that but Uttle known. Here the fugitive had time to repair his shattered health, collect his thoughts, and medi- tate on plans for the future delivery of his oppressed and outraged country. Savage and uninviting as was his re- treat, it aSbrded that which he had most need of— safety. It is recorded that, whilst Alfred was an inmate of this abode, the neat-herd's wife, having occasion to quit the cottage for a time, set him the task of watching the cakes of rye-bread which were baking on the fire. The king, whose mind was distracted by far more important subjects, neglected his instructions, and when the woman returned, she found the cakes blackened and burnt. If tradition speaks truly, the virago chid him soundly, reproaching him that he was more ready to eat than to woik. In this miserable concealment the fugitive remained six months, when fortune, tired of persecuting him, appeared to relent, and once more smiled upon the efibrts of the brave, but hitherto unlucky, Saxons. Hubba, who had been entrusted by his brother Ivar with the command of his troops, had invaJcd 'Wales, laying the country in flames, ravaging, and destroying. He after- wards penetrated into Devonshire, in the kingdom of Wcssex, with a similar intent. At his approach the Earl of Devon retreated with a body of determined men to Kenworth Castle, on the river Taw, in order to with- stand them. The Danish chief was not long before he decided on attacking the fortress, believing that the scanty garrison would surrender at his first summons; in which opinion, however, he was doomed to find himself mistaken, for the earl, seeing that it was impossible to defend the place with so few men, however devoted, told them frankly that one only course was left for them, to conquer and live free men, or die beneath the swords of their releuttes enemy. His harangue had the desired eSect: the Saxons, animated by his words, sallied forth, and fell upon the Danes so unexpectedly, that before they could recover from their panic their leader was slain ; on seeing which, his followers fled in all directions. The spot where Hubba fell was afterwards called Ilabble- stain, or Hubblelaw, from the monument raised over his remains by his countrymen. On hearing the joyful intelligence of this victory, Alfred left his concealment, and called his friends once more to arms. They assembled in separate bodies in various parts of the kingdom, establishing such means of communication as might enable them to join their forces together at the shortest notice. The great difficulty was to ascertain the position of the enemy, which dangerous task the patriot king undertook himself. The story runs that, disguised as a h;irpcr, he made his way into the Danish camp, and stayed there several days, secretly noting the disposition of their forces all the while. Having acquainted himself with all he wished to learn, Alfred returned to his countrymen, and named Selwood Forest for the general place of meeting. His directions were carried out so expeditiously, -that in a comparatively brief space of time the Saxon monarch was enabled to attack his enemy at the head of a powerful army, consisting of the inhabitants of Soraerietshire, A\'ilt- shire, and Hampshire. The Dane?, thougii unexpectedly assailed, defended themselves wit;h their usuiil bra\'ery, but at last were entirely routed. They attributed their defeat to the loss of the raven standard, which had been taken when Hubba fell, and to which they superstitiously attached magical powers — that it indicated victory and defeat by clapping or depressing its wings. Alfred, taking advantage of the consternation thus struck into the whole bo ly of resident Danes, compelled them to GASSiJLL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY 03? ENGLAND. [a.d. 871 .lapitulatc ; and granted thEia terms moro advantageous than they could have expected, resigning tlio lands of East Anglia to such as were willing to become Christians, and requiring those who were not immediately to quit the island, with a promise never to return; hostages for the performance of which were to he given. Guthran, cliief of East Anglia, who since the deatli of Hubba had cjmmaudod kingdom of East Anglia was now wholly inhabited by Danes, and Guthrun divided the lands among his coimtry- men, and exercised the regal authority as long as ho lived. It is to be observed that at the time of tli'* last battle there were in England two sorts of Danes — those who were already settled, and those who were endeavoui-ing to procure themselves habitations. It was probably with AMrcd in the Neat-herd's Hut. {See p. 32.) the Danish army, agreed to these conditions, and came to Alfred with thirty of his chief officers, having embarked all those who refused to bo baptised. Thus did tho patriot king by a single battle recover his kingdom ; and his subjects, whom fear had dispersed or con- strained to submit to tho enemy, flocked to him. All tho historians agree that lie invested tho Danish general with the title of King of East Anglia : but it is not known whether he did so by virtue of some pri\'afo treaty made before, or with a Tiew to engage him in his interests. Tho the last that Alfred treated, as the former were anxious to bo left in quiet possession of their settlements ; and accor- dingly aU those Danes settled in the three kingdoms of tho Angles submitted quietly, and sworo allegiauco to him. But they were not all oqiially satisfied, as several had accepted tho t^rnis of tho last treaty only because they knew not whither to go, and became Christians to procure a subsistence, in expectation of a favouralilo opportunity ta return to their old course of life. That this was tho casj appears from what followed. Whou it was least expected. TO A.D. 901.] "WARS BETWEEN ALFRED AND THE DANES. 35 tlie most considerable among them, heaJed by ILiatiugs, earnestly solicited Gutlirun to renew the war in Wessex, but not f'revailiug, they put to sea, and ravaged the coast of Flanders ; and shortly after, another, and no less nume- rous troop, informed of the great booty the first expedition had met with in Kent, embarked to join them. 'J hese two bauds, thus united, overran Brabant, Hainault, Flanders, Picardy, and Artois, perpetrating unheard-of cruelties; after which, having again divided into two bodies, one of them sailed back to England, in hopes of plundering the country, where they imagined they should come unexpected. Having landed in Kent, they marched towards Rochester, with design to surprise that city ; but Alfred, who, con- trary to their expectation, had his array in readiness, hastened to meet them upon the first notice of their arrival, and his approach was sufficient to make them fly to their ships with such precipitation that they left their plunder behind them. His vigilance having prevented their de- signs upon England, they returned to France, and rejoining their companions, continued their devastations in that kingdom. Hitherto the English had only acted on the defensive. Exposed to the continual invasions of the Danes, and un- certain where the enemy would land, they were generally surprised bjfore it was in their power to defend themselves ; and the sea-coast being uninhabited, there was nothing to prevent the piratical marauders from landing unopposed. Alfred's first care, therefore, was to equip a considerable fleet, the advantage of which he had already experienced, with which he determined to cruise along the coasts, and attack all Danish ships laden with booty. Sixteen were surprised in the port of Harwich, in East Anglia, part of which were captured and the remainder sunk, and a con- siderable booty was also obtaiued. Guthrun, incensed at this act of hostility in one of his harbours, suffered the parties aggrieved to endeavour to retrieve their losses, and even furnished them with means ; and it was not long before they found an opportunity of attacking and gaining some advantage over Alfred's ships. The Saxon fleet, how- ever, in general maintained the superiority, and kept the Danes in awe. The king, having thus secured the sea-coasts, fortified the kingdom with castles and walled towns, repairing those that had gone to ruin, and building others in so strong a manner that they could not easily be assaulted ; and as Loudon, considerable both for its size and situation, re- mained in the hands of the Danes, and gave them a passage into Wessex, he resolved to invest it, and the besieged were in a little time obliged to capitulate. He is said to have added both to its strength and beauty, and committed the government of it to Ethelred, who had married his daughter Elfleda, or rather gave it him, with the title of Earl of Mercia. Some historians say that he conferred on him the dignity of king; but there appears to be no authority for such an assertion. The creating Ethelred Earl of Mercia did not invest him with power, except in London, all the rest of the province being in possession of the Danes, over whom he exercised a titular autbority. Having some repose from the turmoils of war, Alfred continued to occupy himself in fortifying the towns in his dominions — a pre- caution which served not only to repel any future attempts of their enemies, but to keep those who had already settled on the island within the limits assigned them. This state of peace lasted for twelve years, during which time the patriot monarch had time to attend to the amelio- raiiou of the laws, and other improvements necessary for the Well-being of his subjects. The Danes, who, under the conduct of their chief, the celebrated Hastings, bad ravaged France and the Low Countries, where they acquired immense booty, having been twice defeated by Eudes and Arnulph, the Kings of France and Germany, decided on returning to England, not with the intention of settling there, but led by the thirst of plunder. Dividing their forces into equal parts, they set sail for the island. The first expedition reached the coast of Kent, v^here they landed and committed dreadful depreda- tions. The second, under the command of Hastings, entered the Thames, and landed at Middleton. Alfred, who appears to have been in East Anglia at the time of this new invasion, no sooner received the intelligence than he drew together what troops he could ; and, after receiving the oaths of the Anglian Danes, marched against the new comers, and defeated the enemy, who were laying siege to Exeter. We have no very distinct accounts of the wars which ensued. The Danes, under the command of Hastings, re- turned to France, perhaps on account of the pkxgue which, about this time, was committing great ravages in the island. The terror which the name of this chief in'^pired had armed all the sea-coasts of France against him ; on dis- covering which he resolved to change his course, and steer for the Mediterranean, where he contrived, by an act of saerilege and deceit, to become master of the town of Luna, on the coast of Tuscany. He pretended that he had merely visited the place in order to gratify his desire of becoming a Christian, and actually received baptism from the bishop. Some little time after he caused the simple prelate to be informed that he was dead, and had left a large sum of money, on condition of his being buried in the church of Luna. By this stratagem Hastings and a considerable number of his followers obtained entrance into the town, under pretence of conducting the funeral, and immediately began to massacre and pillage the inhabitants. The adventurer ultimately settled in the city of Cliartres,. which Charles the Simple, King of France, assigned to h'ui> as the price of peace. The laws, during the war, had been very much neglecte i", and were become almost unknown to the people. Alfred made a collection of the best he could find. He insertel some of the judicial laws of the Old Testament, and several of those formerly enacted by Ina, King of Wessex, and Offa, King of Mercia, in their respective kingdoms; and to tin so he added many of his own, adapted to the circumstances of his people. Throughout these laws m.ay easily be observed an ardent z^al for justice, and a sincere desire of rooting out oppression and violence. They were indeed mild, if compared with those of later ages, seeing they puniched most offences by mulcts and fines; but the strictness where- with Alfred caused them to be observed counterbalanced their lenity. If with respect to private persons the rigour of the law was .somewhat abatetl, it was not so with regard to unjust magistrates, for to such Alfred was ever inexor- able; and history informs us that he executed four-and- forty judcres w!tbiu the space of one year, for corruption. 36 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 901 ( These precautions seemed to be sufficient to hinder the poor and the defenceless from being oppresseil by the rich and great. But as Alfred was sensible the spirit of tyranny grew upon men in authority, he studied to prevent that Injustice ; and, to that end, ordered that, in all criminal actions, twelve men, chosen for that purpose, should deter- mine concerning the fact, and the judge give sentence according to their verdict. This privilege, enjoyed by the EngUsh to this day, is doubtless the noblest and most valuable that subjects can have. An EuglishmAn accused of any crime is to be tried only by his peers — that is, by per- sons of his own rank. These twelve men, chosen out of many otkers, with the approbation of the person accused, are called by the collective name of a jury; and these are properly the persons by whom the life or death of a prisoner is determined. About this time, also, Alfred divided all England into shires — so called from the Saxon word scyre, to divide- which were subdivided into tithings, to which the inhabit- ants were obliged to belong, under pain of being treated as vagabonds. He also invited over from foreign countries learned men, to whom he gave pensions, and dispersed them in the several dioceses, to instruct the people ; and not satisfied with this, being desirous of having in his own kingdom a nursery of learning, he founded four schools or colleges at 0.\ford. In the first, the Abbot Neot and Grimald read divinity ; in the second, Asserius, a Benedictine monk, taught grammar and rhetoric ; in the third, John, a monk of St. David's, set up a chair for logtc, arithmetic, and music ; and iu the fourth, Johannes Scotus profe=sed geometry and astronomy. We find also among the learned men encouraged by Alfred, Plegmund, a Mercian, who became Archbishop of Canterbury, and many others. It is unnecessary to stay to examine whether the colleges founded by Alfred were the first foundations of the University of O.xford, or whether, before that, there were at a place calL-d Greeklade similar schools, which were removed from thence to this city. It is enough to observe that, from very small foundations, the University of Oxford has advanced to its present state. In all matters relating to the public, Alfred governed with the advice and assistance of the general council or assembly of the nation, called in Saxon Wittena-Gemot, to which rank and office gave a right to sit, and which was independent of the king. This assembly, styled at present the Parliament, a name tuken from the French, was com- posed of the two Archbishops of Canterbury and York, the bishops, earls, viscounts or high-sheriffs of the counties, and the thanes of the firat rank, or barons. Whilst Alfred lay concealed in the Isle of Athelney, he mad a vow to dedicate to God the third part of his time, as soon as he should be restored to a state of tranquillity. lie performed his promise, and allotted eight hours evi-ry day to acta of devotion, eight hours to public affairs, and as many to sleep, study, and necessary refreshment. As the use of clocks and hour-glasses was not yet introduced into England, be measured the time by means of wax-candles, marked with circular lines of different colours, which served as so many hour-lines ; and to prevent the wind from making them bum unsteady, it is sjiid lie inventetl the expedient of enclosing them in lanterns. Ho also divided his revenues in two parts, one of which was wholly assigned for charitable uses, and subdivided into four portions : the first for alms to the poor ; the second for the maintenance of the monasteries he had founded ; the third for the subsistence of the professors and scholars at Oxford ; the fourth for poor monks, foreigners as well as English. The other half was divided into three parts: one was expended on his family ; another in paying his architects, and other curious workmen ; and the rest was bestowed in pensions upon strangers invited to his court for the encouragement and instruction of his subjects. This monarch is justly distinguished with the surname of Great ; and all historians unanimously represent him as one of the noblest that ever wore a crown. It is, however, said that in the commencement of his reign he was subject to great violence of temper ; that he was haughty towards his sub- jects, and indulged the impetuosity of his passions so much, indeed, as to draw down the censure of his kinsman, St. Neot. and counties; the shires and counties again into hundreds, x/'^IIe died in 901, in the fifiy-third year of his age, after a reign of twenty-nine years and six months, the greatest part of which was spent in war. CHAPTER Vni. Rti^'ii of Edw.ird the Elder- Continuation of tiie War wilh the Danes— Elfrida— Wi.r w.th the Welsli. 'At the accession of Edward, the son of Alfred, England was nearly equally divided between the Saxons and the Danes. The former still possessed the important kingdom of Wessex, which included Essex and most of the territory to the south of the Thames. Mercia was inhabited by a mixed population, in which, however, the English race pre- dominated. TLeir enemies were more numerous in the east and north of the island. Both parties began to be weary of war — of mutually destroying each other — and a brief repose was welcome. To the new settlers the retreat of their countrymen was as acceptable as to the Saxons ; for the hordes who invaded the island with no other object than obtaining plunder, were little scrupulous which possessions they ravaged ; and the consequence was, that the Danes suffered at times as much as the earlier possessors of the soil. Edward had not long obtained possession of the crown before a civil war broke out, which ultimately strengthened the Saxons as a nation. Alfred's elder brother, Ethelbert, left two sons, the eldest of whom, Ethelward, having arrived at man's estate, claimed the throne, on the plea that his grandfather, Ethelwulph, had no right to make a will leaving the succession to his three sons, according to their seniority, to the exclusion of their issue — a claim which, in these days, would undoubtedly be looked upon as valid. A numerous p.arty supported his pretensions, and Edward was compelled to draw the sword to maintain himself iu his inheritance. Defeated in his first attempt, the pretender fled to the Danes, who received him hospitably, and, seeing the use which such an instrument might be made of in their hands, at once proclaimed him King of Wessex. In this crisis Edward proved himself worthy of his illustrious father, and acted with a promptitude and decision which ultimately secured to him liis crown. Immediately after the battle of Wimborne, in which he had defeated his TO A.D. 924.] REIGN OF EDWARD THE ELDER. S> 38 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 924 cef > rival, he marched against liim and his new alUes, his army increasing daily. The Danes, unable to resist the over- whelming forces led against them, dismis-cd the pretender from amongst them, and ceded several strongholds as the price of peace. > In tne year 915, according to some historians, Edward f founded the University of Cambridge ; others contend for a \yet earlier date — an assumption, however, resting on tradition merely. They attribute it to one Cantaber, three hundred years before the Christian era. In 910 the war between the two races broke out oncej more, and lasted, with brief intermission, for ten yeari ,^ when the Danes, finding they were losing ground, sued for* peace. I'hose who inhabited ]\Iercia were the first to sub-| mit, the Eist Anglians followed their example, and thes Northumbrians were the last. Edward was materially assisted in these struggles by his warlike sister Elfleda, the widow of the Earl of JNIeroia, who, despite her se.'s, appears to have delighte, coming from Armorioa, settled iu this place. Ina, King of W'essex, having pulled it down to the ground, raised a stately church, anil dedicated it to Christ, St. Peter, and St. Paul ; an I several persons famous for their pioty, most of them Irish, retired thither, where they were miintainel by Etlgar's bounty. From that time thei'e were always devout persons who made choice of the place for their retreat. After Dunstau had been some time at Glastonbury, Elmund, successor of Athelstan, having conceived an esteem for him, built there a monastery, and made him abbot ; and as DuusUiu Wiis a person of great address and ability, he maintained a great authority over this prince, and was very much in fivour all his reign • and his interest at court even increased under Edred, to whom he was prime miuistor and confessor. Danstan's extreme fondness for a monastic life made him use, without any caution, all his interest to induct the monks to the benefices, and eject the secular priests, whom he both despise! and hated. His attachment to the former class, added to his arrogance, procured him abund- ance of enemies, and drew upon him the displeasure of Edmund's successor, Edwy, as we have already seen. Upon his return to England, he was promoted, as already stated, to the see of Worcester ; and some time after, the bishopric of London being vacant, he was entrusted with the manage- ment of it ; which has led some writers into tlio mistake of imagining he was Bishop of AVorcester and London at the same time. Edgar continued to give Dunstan fresh marks of esteem, and his regard for him was strengthened by the miracles attribute,! to him. After the death of Athelm, who held the see of Canterbury, Olo, by birth a Dane, was made arch- bishop ; and to him succeeded Elfiu, who died as he was going to Rome for his pall, in the beginning of Edgar's reign. Brithelm. Bishop of Bath, was elected to the vacant see ; but Edgir, being desiroas of making Dunstan archbishop, called a general council, where he represented Brithelm as un- qualified for so great a station ; whereupon he was ordered to return to his old diocese, and Dunstan was chosen in his place. This election not being perfectly canonical, it was deemed necessary that Dunstan should go to Rome, on pretence of receiving his pall, and at the same time justify these proceedin^^s. The Tope, who was perfectly aware how extensive the influence of Dunstan was at tlie court of Eaglaud, and who was gratified by the zeal with which he had espoused the interest of the Clmrch of Rome and of the monks, readily confirmed his election, constituting him at the same time his legate in England, with most extensive powers. In justification of this remarkable man's favourite project of removing the secular clergy from their benefices and supplying their places by the monks, it must be admitted that the former, as a body, had bewme fearfully corrupt ; that luxury, gluttony, avarice, and lust reigned amongst them. Perhaps he sincerely thought to benefit the Church by a change which was clearly against the laws of the kingdom. Dunstan caused a council of the Church to be held, at Y.'hioh Edgar assisted iu person, and made the followiiig remarkable oration, which is both curious and interesting as a picture of the corruptions of the clergy of the time, and his subserviency to the views of Dunstan :— " Almighty God having vouchs;ifed of his infinite mercy to show his goodness to us in a remarkable manner, it is most reasonable, reverend fathers, we should exert our endeavours to make a suitable return. That we are in possession of this plentiful country is not owing to any strength of our own, but to the help of his all-powerful arm, who has been pleased to manifest his loving-kindness towards us. It is but just, therefore, we should bring ourselves, our souls, and bodies, in subjection to him who has subdued all things for us, and should take care that al! that are under us should be obedient to his laws. It is my oflice, reverend fathers, to administer justice, without respect to persons ; to suppress the rebellious ; to punish the sacri- legious ; to protect the poor and weak from the hand of the oppressor. It is my business also to take care that the Church and her ministers, the holy fraternities of the reli- gious orders, have all things necessary to their subsistence and well-being. But it is your duty to examine into the life and conversation of the clergy. To you it belongs to see that they live agreeably to their profession — that they are sober, temperate, chaste, hospitable to the poor and the stranger ; that they are careful in the administration of their office, constant in their instructions to the people — in a word, that they are worthy of the glorious character of the ministers of Jesus Christ. With submission be it spoken, reverend fathers, had you taken due care of these things, I should not have had the dissatisfactioa of hearing from all hands the enormous crimes daily committed by the clergy of this laud. I insist not on the smallness of their tonsure, con- trary to the canons of the Church, nor their effeminacy in their habits, nor the arrogance in their gestures, nor on their immodest discourses, which plainly show all is not right within. I omit their negligence with regard to divine service : hardly will they vouchsafe their company at the public prayers, and when they come to church to celebrate the holy mysteries, one would think it was a mockery. But the chief subject of my complaint — I speak it with extreme regretr— is what ministers occasion of grief to the good, and of joy to the profane— I mean, the lewd and scandalous lives they lead. They spend their days in diversions, entertain- ments, drunkenness, and debauchery. Their houses may be said to be so many sinks of lewdness, public stages, and receptacles of libertines. There they have gaming, dancing, and obscene singing. There they pass the night in rioting and drunkenness. It is thus, reverend fathers, it is thus the bounty of my predecessors to the Church, and their charities for the maintenance of the poor, and what is more, the adorable blood of our Saviour, arc consumed. Was it for this that our ancestors exhausted their treasures ? W;is it for this they were so liberal of their estates ? Was it to deck the concubines of their priests, to provide for them splendid entertainments, to furnish them with dogs and hawks, that our forefathers displayed their munificence to the Chuich ? 46 CASiELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORI" OP ENGLAND, [A.D. 975 These are the crimes which the people couipkiu of in private, and the soldiers in public ; which are sung in the stre.ts, and acted uudisguisedlj-, and yet they are forgiven, they are overlooked, they are couuivei at by you ! AVhere IS now the sword of Levi, and the zeal of Simeon ? Wliere is the wrath of JMoses against the worshippers of the golden calf? Where is the indignation of St. Peter against Simon the magician ? Imitate, reverend fathers, imitate the zeal of these holy persons, and follow the way of righteousness, shown you by the Lord. It is high time for you to draw the sword of St. Peter, whilst I make use of the great Constautiue's. Let us join our forces to expel the lepers out of the temple, to cleanse the sanctuary, and to cause tlie Lord to be served by the true sons of Levi, who said to his father and to his mother, ' I know you not ; ' and to his brethren, ' I know not who you are.' Let the disrespect to the relics of the saints, and the daily profaning of holy altars, rouse you up. Be moved at the great abuse of the piety of our forefathers. One of my ancestors, you all know, dedicated to the Church the tithe of the kingdom. The glorious Alfred, my great grandfather, laid out his revenues in religious uses. You are not ignorant of the great bene- factions of my father and uncle, which it would be highly dishonourable so soon to forget, seeing that the altars are still adorned with them. You, O Dunstau, father of fathers, raise your imagination a little, I pray you, and fancy you behold my father looking down from heaven, and expostu- lating with you in this manner : ' It was you that advised me to the budding of so many churches and monasteries ; it was you I made choice of for my spiritual guide, and the inspector of my behaviour. Did I not always obey your voice? Did I not always prefer your advice before wealth ? How frankly did I lay out my treasures when you com- manded ! My charities were always ready when you called for them, ^\'hateve^ was desired for the churches was immediately granted. If you complained that the monks were straitened in their circumstances, their wants were forthwith supplied. You used to tell me that such libe- ralities brought forth immortal fruit, and were highly meritorious, since they were expended in supporting the servants of God, aud maintaining the poor. And is it not an intolerable shame they should be laid out in adorning and decking a pack of prostitutes? Are these the fruits of my benefactions ? Are these the effects of your glorious : promises?' These, O Dunstan, are the complaints of the' king, ray father. AVhat can you answer to this ol arge ? , J am convinced that you have hitherto been unblameable. AVhen you saw a thief you consented not to him ; neither iiave you been partaker with the adulterer. No, you have : endeavoured to correct tliese abuses ; you have exhorted, argued, and threatened. But since these means have proved in vain, it is time to apply more effectual remedies. You , have here ready to assist you the reverend father Ethelwald, j Bishop of Winchester, and the reverend Oswald, Bishop of AVorcester. To you three I refer the management of this important affair. Exert the episcopal in conjunction with the legal authority to expel from the Church of God the dis- orderly clergy, and put in such as live regularly in their stead." This liavangne, which was most proljably written by Dunstau himself, had the desired cif oct. The three bishops expelled the secular priests, and gave their benefices to the monks, the objects of the king's and .iri-libishop's favour. Though it is but too true the priests at that time led very disorderly lives, yet that was not the thing that drew this storm upon them ; their marriage was the great causa of offence ; it was that which their enemies were desirous should be thought a more heinous crime than fornication, or any other actual sin which they could lay to their charge. Their wives were always called concubines, or by a more opprobrious name ; and notwithstanding all the endeavours of the court of Rome, this real or pretended abuse could not be reformed till the end of the twelfth century, when the celibacy of the clergy was established after a struggle of three hundred years. The monks were bound in gratitude to make a suitable return for the service Edgar had done them; and, accord- ingly, their historians have endeavoured, by their excessive commendations, to make him pass for a real saint. But whether from want of attention, or some other reason, they have related some particulars of his life which certainly do not tend to sustain that idea of him. If, indeed, his political actions are only considered, it must be confessed he was a great prince ; but a great king and a great saint are two very different characters. For instance, it would be very difficult to justify by the Gospel a massacre per- petrated by his order in the Isle of Thanet, upon a very slight occasion, as historians allow ; and what might not these said historians have said of his vicious inclination to women, who published to the world that the soul of his brother Edvvy was about to be dragged into hell for having had a single mistress? Edgar died in 975, in the thirty-second year of his age. He was afterwards canonised, and miracles are said to have been worked at his shrine. CHAPTER XIV. Edward the "Martyr— His Eteclion to the Throne through the influence of Dunstau— Doubls as to his Legitimacy— Ilis Reign and Death. Edgak left two sons and a daughter. The eldest son, Edward, son of Elfitda, suruamed " The Fair," was by many deemed illegitimate ; and a numerous party of the nobility were for raising his brother, the sou of the queen Elfiida, to the throne ; and in all proba- bility would have succeeded, but for the promptitude and courage of Dunstan, who, in the assembly held on the death of the late king, took Edward by the hand, led Lim towards the church, attended by the other bishops and a great crowd of people, and anointed the young prince king, without regarding the opposition of the party against him. The nobles deplored their falling once more under the government of that imperious prelate ; but, seeing the people reaily to support him, they were compelled to submit. Eilward was but fourteen years old when he began to reign under the guardianship of Dunstan, who immediately took all the power into his hands ; and, as soon as he was fixed in the regency, exerted every possible means to main- tain the monks in possession of the benefices they had acijuirel in the last reign, and made use of the king's author ity to that end. But he met witli greater opposition thin he contemplated, for as the king was but a minor, the orders given in his name were not so readily complied with. Dunstan assembled several councils about this affair; but most probably all his endeavours would have proved in- effectual, if by means of several miracles, which were- never wanting when requisite, he had not brought the people to believe that Heaven interposed in ;he aff^ whose government was arbitrary, cruel, and ' Ethelred at first was unwilling to tr being apprehensive of a design to delivi a ^ of his enemies ; but being encouraged \ "^ son met with, whom he had sent before to 54 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 978 inclinations, he returned to England, and was received with great demonstrations of joy ; and his subjects swore alle- giance to him again, as if he had begun a new reign, his flight being considered as a sort of abdication of the crown. He, on his part, promised to reform whatever was amiss ; and the eagerness of the English to throw off a foreign yoke, made them flock to the king with such zeal and haste, that he soon found himself at the head of a powerful army. His first expedition plainly showed his misfortunes had made no great alteration in him ; for instead of marching against the Danes, he made use of his forces to be revenged on the men of Lindsey — one of the three divisions of Lin- colnshire ; the other two being named Holland and Kesteven, The inhabitants of the first-named place, it appeared, had writers, who say that Canute had a younger brother, named Harold, who, being regent in the absence of his father, Sweyn, seized upon Denmark for himself, which obliged Canute to leave Eugland with a precipitation that seemed to be an effect of fear rather than sound policy. As soon as Ethelred found himself freed from the Danes he took no heed of his promise to his subjects, but, on the contrary, resumed his old maxims, and imposed, on several pretences, excessive taxes, which raised great raurmurings among the nobles and people. To these causes for public discontent he added others of a more private nature, which destroyed all the hopes enter- tained of his amendment. Morcard and Sifforth, lords of Danish extraction, who had all along firmly adhered to thg Meetini; of Edmund Iiouside and Canute, oa the lie of Alney, in the Severn. (See p. 57.) provided the Danes with horses, and had also offered to join them. After Ethelred had punished these traitors, he prepared to march, and fight the enemy, who Mttle expected so suilden a revolution. Although Canute was undoubtedly a great prince, and had the same forces his father Sweyn had conquered Eng- land with, he did not think fit to hazard a battle ; but, on the contrary, before Ethelred was advanced near enough to oblige him to fight, he led his troops to the sea-side, and embarking them, set sail for Denmark. Before his de- parture, he ordered the hands and feet of the hostages he had in his power to be cut off, leaving them thus mangled on the shore. The retreat of Canute appears strange, as he had never been worsted, and, besides, had many strong places still in D. is hands ; and the only clue that can be obtained as to the lae of this conduct is the account given by the Danish interest of the king and their new country, were sacrificed to his avarice. To draw these two earls into his power, the king convened a great council at Oxford, where he caused them to be murdered, and then seized their estates, as if they had been condemned by the common forms of justice. Algitha, widow of Sifforth, was shut up in a monastery, to which confinement she was indebted for her after greatness ; for Edmund, the king's eldest sou, passing that way some time after, was desirous to see one so renowned for her beauty, and fell so desperately in love with her, that he married her, even against his father's consent. The calm England enjoyed after the retreat of the Danes lasted but one year. Canute having got possession of the throne of Denmark, immediately re-embarked for England (a.d. 1016), and, when least expected, landed a numerous army at Sandwich. Ethelred being then unwell, Edmund, his son, with Streon, Duke of Mercia, his son-in-law, had the command of the army against the Danes ; and Edmund TO lOlC] CANUTE RETURNS FROM DENMARK. 55 Canute Reproving the Flattery of his Courtiers. (See p. 09.) Boon perceived his brother-in-law was a friend to Canute. 1 great. He also dreaded his father's displeasiwe, whom he This discovery obliged him to invent some pretence to divide ! knew could never be convinced that Streon held mtelhgeiice the army into two bodies, that he might be separated from i with the Danes. Canute, taking advantage of this division liim, not daring to punish the traitor, for fear of exciting ot the English forces, made large conquests immediately ; a revolt in Meroia, where Streon'a power was exceedingly 1 and the treacUerous Edric, who had joined Edmund witb 56 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1016. no other view but to betray him, finding he had lost his aim, openly declared for Canute ; and this would have been rather an advantage than a detriment to the king's affairs, if the traitor had not carried with him a considerable body of troops, with forty ships of war. Tins desertion, which proved very serviceable to Canute, was a mortal wound to Ethelred ; and the people went over in crowds to the Danes in proportion as the king's affairs fell to decay, so that even Wessex itself was not very secure. Canute's expectations daily increasing by these successes, he turned his arms against those of the Mercians who con- tinued in their alliance to the king, and at length, with the assistance of Streon, entirely subdued them. After which he formed a design to attack Ethebed in Wessex itself, where he had the more reason to expect success, as Edrio had artfully instilled into the Mercians who were in the English array a notion that it was a sin to bear arms against a prince in possession of their country ; and, consequently, all that Edmund could obtain of these troops was, that they would follow the king when he commanded the army in person, refusing to fight under any other general. But Ethelred, who was haunted by a suspicion of an intention of delivering him to the Danes, obstinately refused to quit London, and his gallant son had the mortification of seeing his forces disbanded without giving battle. Meanwhile Canute pursued his career of conquest. Edmund repaired himself to London, and persuaded the king to visit the army. He did so, but remained a very short time ; after which his son joined Uthred, Earl of Northumberland, in ravaging those parts of the kingdom leagued with, o» under the government of the Danes. At this crisis the weak, worn-out monarch fell sick and died (April 23, a.d. 1016), leaving a numerous issue. He had by his first wife, Elgiva, Edmund, who succeeded him; Athelstau, who died in childhood; Ed wy, afterwards murdered by Canute ; and three daughters. Edgiva, the eldest, was married to an English earl, who fell in battle. Edgith, the second, who espoused the traitor Edric, Duke of Mercia. Edgina, the youngest, the wife of Uthred, Earl of Northumberland. By Emma, the Pearl of Normandy, his second queen, Ethelred left two sons, Alfred and Edward, and a daughter named Godda, who first married Walter, the Earl of Nantes, ond then Eustacius, Earl of Boulogne. CHAPTER XVII. Rcign of Edmund II., sornamed Ironside. Immediately on the death of Ethelred, his son, Edmund, who had given so many proofs of courage and devotion to his unhappy country, was proclaimed king, to the great joy of the English. At the same time the Danes declared for Canute, who was already in possession of a great part of the kingdom. London, however, still held out against him. This city the Danish monarch felt it necessary to possess ; and in the absence of the new king he laid siege to it with a very considerable force ; but the citizens defended them- selves so bravely, that Edmund had time to pour in such succours as obliged his rival to abandon his attempt. Both parties were impatient to decide their claims by battle. The armies met, and so obstinately was it con- tested that neither side could claim the victory, although the English, it is recorded, were near being defeated by the cunning of Edric Streon, who fought on the side of the Danes. Perceiving that the English troops fought with such desperate courage, he cut off the head of Osmer, a soldier who so resembled Edmund that he might easily have been mistaken for him. Placing the bleeding head upon his lance, he advanced with it to the front of the English army, and exclaimed, " Fly, villains, fly ! Behold the head of your king in whom you trust ! " This stratagem had nearly succeeded ; the soldiers of Edmund began to waver, on seeing which the king threw aside his helmet and rode bareheaded through the ranks, when he was received with cheers of delight. The battle lasted till night, without any decisive advan- tage on either side. In the morning Edmund intended to renew the battle, but Canute, who had other intentions, retired to his ships and set sail, hastily landed his forces, and besieged London a second time with no better success than the first. This battle was fought at Soeorstan, which Camden sup- poses to be Sherston, in Wiltshire ; other writers suppose it to have been where four stones, called Shire-stones, part the counties of Oxford, Gloucester, Worcester, and Warwick. Matthew of Westminster relates that the battle lasted two entire days, and that Edric's stratagem occurred on the second. Edmund, like his father, was doomed to be the victim of treason. In one of his battles, in Essex, he would have vanquished his rival, but for the bad advice of Edric Streon, who, continually changing sides, as ambition or caprice prompted him, was then in the English army. Although he had sworn to be faithful, he was little better than the spy and agent of the Danish monarch, whose cause he lost no opportunity of serving. Seeing the Danes in retreat, he advised the king to cease the pursuit, under pretence, that if too hardly pressed, despair might cause them to rally. The greatest act of treachery occurred at Assandun, where he threw aside the mask, and went over with his troops to the enemy. The English, in the utmost consternation, believing they were betrayed on every side, threw down their arms. Edmund's loss was immense ; the chief of his nobility were slain iu the defence of their unhappy country. On the spot where Canute gained this signal victory, now called Ashdon, in Essex, he buUt a church, and caused four hillocks to be thrown up, in memory of those who fell in the battle. Two of these monuments have been opened ; several stone coffins were found filled mth bones and iron chains, something like horse-bits. These hills are known by the name of Bartlow Hills, though situated in Aslidon parish ; wlience some writers contend that it was Bartlow Church which the Danish con- queror built. After this triumph, Canute fondly imagined that all serious rivalry between himself and Edmund was at an end : but he knew not the temper of the English, wlio, roused by the greatness of the danger, made extraordinary efforts for their deliverance. Edmund had long possessed the affection of the inhabi- tants of London, who flocked to his standard in such numbers that in an incredibly short space of time he found A.D. 1016.J REIGNS OP EDMUND IRONSmE AND CANUTE. B7 himself at the bead of an army more powerful than the one lie had lost. His rival, unwilling to give him too much time to recover his defeat, hastened to meet him ; and the two kings, each at the head of his respective army, confronted each other once more ; but neither appeared willing to give the signal to commence the contest. Edmund knew that if he lost the battle it was irretrievable ruin to his cause ; nor was Canute without apprehension that, in case of a defeat, all the English would rise and unite ngainst him. In this position, Edmund proposed to decide their claims to the crown in single combat ; an offer which his rival declined, under the plea that he was small of stature and of a sickly constitution ; but added, that if the English king lishment by Egbert, four hundred and thirty-two from the founding of the heptarchy, or octarchy, and five hundred and sixty -eight from the arrival of the Saxons under Hengist. He left, by Algitha, his wife, two sons, Alfred and Edward ; and he had also a natural son, named Edwy, who was afterwards put to death by Canute. The infamous Streon, who prided himself upon doing Canute so signal a service, hastened to carry him the first news of it ; but Canute detested the barbarous deed. He, however, concealed his sentiments at the time, feeling he should have further occasion for him, and consequently promised to advance him above all the nobles of the realm ; a promise which he kept in a very different manner from that which the traitor expected. The Bartlow Hills, Danish Tumuli, near Ashdon, Essex. wished to avoid the effusion of blood, he was quite willing to refer the cause of quarrel between them to arbitration. To this offer the nobles, who desired to put an end to the war, compelled Edmund to accede, and plenipotentiaries wore named on either side ; they met on a small island in the Severn, named Alney, opposite Gloucester, and peace was concluded by the divieion of the kingdom. Wessex, and all the country south of the Thames, including London and the greater portion of the ancient kingdom of Essex, being assigned to Edmund ; whilst his rival had Mercia, Northumbria, and East Anglia. The kings afterwards met on the Isle of Alney, and swore to observe the peace, after which ceremony they separated. Edmund did not long enjoy the repose which he had suffered so much to establish : his old enemy, Edric Streon, fearing that his hfe might be endangered from the union between the two kings, caused him to be assassinated by his chaniborlaius, whom he bribed to commit the crime (November 30). The murdered king had not occupied the throne a com- plete year ; but even in that short time he had given frequent proofs of an undaunted courage, a consummate prudence, and a generous nature. He was buried next his grandfather Edgar, at Glastonbury ; and with him fell the glory of the English Saxons ; for by his death the Danes prevailed, and the Saxon mouarchy in reality ended, after it had lasted one hundred and ninety years from its estab- CHAPTER XVIII. Reign of Canute the Great— His Reproof to hia Courtiers— His Mam'ago and Death. Canute saw that the time had arrived in which he might hope to obtain possession of the entire kingdom. For this purpose he caused an assembly of nobles to be convened, and bribed several of them to depose that, by the treaty con- cluded between himself and Edmund, it had been verbally agreed that in the event of the death of the latter he was to succeed to his dominions. Under this pretence the claims of the English heir were set aside, and Canute became the monarch of the country — the nobility being tired of war, and unwilling to risk their lives and fortunes to support the rights of a prince who was too young to bear the burden of a crown. Conscious that whilst the sons of Edmund Uved he held his throne by an insecure tenure, he sent the princes to his ally, the King of Sweden, with secret orders to put them to death on their arrival, and so rid him of bis fears. The Swedish monarch found himself placed in an embar- rassing position by this infamous request, and resolved to spare them. But to avoid being drawn into a war with his powerful neighbour, he in his turn sent them to Stephen, King of Hungary, to be educated at his court. The eldest son was afterwards married to a sister of that king ; but dying without issue, Stephen gave his sister-in-law, Agatha, daughter of the Emperor Henry II., to Edward, the younger. 68 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1016 to wife ; she bore him Edgar Atheling, and two daughters — Margaret, afterwards Queen of Scotland, and Christina, who became a nun. Canute, although King of England, was obliged to divide his authority in a great measure with the nobles, by be- stowing on them greater territories and jurisdiction. He created Thurkyl Duke of East Anglia; Yric had Northumberland, and Edric Mercia, as the price of their services. The latter he afterwards, when he found himself more firmly seated, caused to be executed, as a reward for his many treasons, and his body cast into the Thames. The new king found himself obliged to levy immense taxes to gratify the rapacity of his followers ; he extorted back to Denmark a great number of his followers, but in a general assembly of the states which he convened, restored the Saxon laws and customs, which during the late dis- tracted times had fallen into disuse, and made no distinction between Saxon and Dane in the administration of justice. The latter people he gradually incorporated with his new subjects. The removal of Edmund's children into so distant a country as Hungary was, next to their death, regarded by Canute as the greatest security to his government : he had no further anxiety, except with regard to Alfred and Edward, who were protected and supported by their uncle, Richard, Duke of Normandy. Richard even fitted out a Canute the Great. from the people at one time no less than seventy-two thou- sand pounds, an enormous sum in those days, besides eleven thousand which he levied on London alone. The latter city suffered more in comparison than others, on account of the attachment it had shown his rival. Canute could neither forget nor pardon his having been obliged twice to retire from the siege of that important place. With a degree of savage justice he put to deata a great number of the nobility, giving as a reason that it was impossible he could ever trust them, on account of their treachery to their native king. The probability is, that their wealth was the principal cause of their offence. Having thus got rid of tliose wliom he most feared, Canute determined, if possible, to reconcile the people to his government by justice and impartiality. He not only sent great armament, in order to restore the English princes to the throne of their ancestors ; and though the navy vi'as dispersed by a storm, Canute saw the danger to which he was exposed from the enmity of so warlike a people as the Normans. In order to acquire the friendship of the duke, he paid his addresses to Queen Emma, sister of that prince ; and promised that he would leave the children whom he might have by that marriage, his heirs to the crowu of England. Richard complied with his demand, and sent over Emma to England, where she was, in 1017, married to Canute. The English, though they disapproved of her espousing the mortal enemy of her former husband and his family, were pleased to find at court a sovereign to whom they were accustomed, and who had already formed con- nections with them ; and thus Canute, besides securing by TO 1035.] HAROLD HAREFOOT. 59 this marriage the alliance of Normandy, gradually acquired, by the same means, the confidence of his own subjects. The Norman prince did not long survive the marriage of Emma ; and left the inheritance of the duchy to his eldest son of the same name, who, dying a year after him without children, was succeeded by his brother Robert, a man of valour and abilities. In A.D. 1019, Canute, having settled his power beyond aU danger of a revolution, made a voyage to Denmark, in order to resist tlie attacks of the King of Sweden ; and he carried along with him a great body of the English, under the com- mand of Earl Grodwin. This nobleman had here an oppor- tunity of performing a service, by which he both reconciled the king's mind to the English nation, and, gaining to himself the friendship of his sovereign, laid the foundation of that immense fortune which he acquired for his family. He was stationed next the Swedish camp ; and observing a favourable opportunity, which he was obliged suddenly to seize, he attacked the enemy in the night, drove them from their trenches, threw them into disorder, pursued his advan- tage, and obtained a decisive victory over them. Next morning, Canute, seeing the English camp entirely aban- doned, imagined that those disaffected troops had deserted to the enemy : he was agreeably surprised to find that they were at that time engaged in pursuit of the discomfited Swedes. He was so pleased with his success, and with the manner of obtaining it, that he bestowed his daughter in marriage on Godwin, and treated him ever after with entire confidence and regard. In another voyage, which he made afterwards to Den- mark, in 1028, Canute attacked Norway; and expelling the just, but unwarlike Olaf, kept possession of his king- dom till the death of that prince. He had now, by his conquests and valour, attained the utmost height of grandeur : having leisure from wars and intrigues, he felt the unsatisfactory nature of all human enjoyments ; and, equally weary of the glories and turmoils of this life, he began to cast his view towards that future existence which it is so natural for the human mind, whether satiated by prosperity or disgusted with adversity, to make the object of its attention. Unfortunately, the spirit which prevailed in that age gave a wrong direction to his devotion. Instead of making compensation to those whom he had injured by his former acts of violence, he employed himself entirely in those exercises of piety which the monks represented as the most meritorious. He built churches, he endowed monasteries, he enriched the ecclesiastics, and he bestowed revenues for the support of chantries at Assington and other places, where he appointed prayers to be said for the souls of those who had there faUen in battle against him. He even undertook a pilgrimage to Rome, where he resided a considerable time: besides obtaining from the Pope some privileges for the English school erected there, he engaged all the princes, through whose dominions he was obliged to pass, to desist from the heavy tolls exacted upon English pilgrims. Canute, who was the greatest and most powerful monarch of his time, being sovereign of Denmark and Norway as well as of England, was not so blinded by his good fortune as to credit the flattery of his courtiers, who fain would have persuaded him that he was all but omnipotent. To rebuke them, he hit upon the following expedient : — He directed his chair of state to be placed on the sea-side, just as the tide was about to rise; and commanded the waves as they approached to retire at his word ; then seated himself as if in full expectation that his orders weuld be obeyed. When the sea, however, reached his feet, he turned with an angry frown to his panic-stricken courtiers, and ex- claimed — " Every being in the world is feeble and impotent ; omni- potent power exists with God, in whose hands are all the elements of nature. He only can say to the sea — Thus far shalt thou go and no further ; and his power will level with a nod the towering piles of ambition and greatness." The only remarkable action which Canute performed after his return from Rome, was an expedition against Scotland in a.d. 1031. During the reign of Ethelred, a tax of a shilling a hide had been levied on all the lands in England. Malcolm, King of Scotland, who held Cumber- land, refused to pay this impost, or to do homage for Cumberland to the crown of England. On the English monarch approaching the frontier of Scotland with a formidable army, Malcolm consented that his grandson and heir, Duncan, should be put in possession of Cumberland ; and thus the prudent king avoided the humiliation of doing homage in his own person, and the disasters of war with his powerful neighbour. Canute died (November 11, 1035), after this enterprise, at Shaftesbury, leaving three sons — Sweyn, whom he had by his first marriage with Alfwen, daughter of the Earl of Hampshire ; Hardicanute, who was in possession of Den- mark ; and Harold, who, at the time of his father's death, was in England. CHAPTER XIX. Harold Ilarefoot— His brief Reign and Death. Although the late king, in the treaty he had entered into with Richard, Duke of Normandy, at the time of his marriage with Emma, had agreed that his children by her should succeed to the crown of England, he held himself released from the engagement by that prince's death, or considered Hardicanute too young to mount the throne of England : his new subjects requiring a cool head and strong hand to govern them. He therefore nominated Harold, his son by Alfwen, to the crown, after his decease. This prince had the advantage, not only of his presence on the spot, but of his father's treasures, which he had taken care to secure ; and, though last, not least, the warm adhe- rence of his countrymen. On the other hand, Hardicanute was more popular with the English, who regarded him with a certain amount of affection, on account of his being the son of Emma, and having been born in England. His party was espoused also by Earl Godwin, the most influential noble in the kingdom, especially iu the province of Wessex, the chief seat of the ancient English. Affaus were likely to terminate in a civil war ; when, by the interposition of the nobility of both parties, a compromise was made ; and it was agreed that Harold should enjoy, together with London, all the provinces north of the Thames, while the possession of the south should remain to Hardi- canute ; and till that prince should appear and take posses- sion of his dominions, Emma fixed her residence at Win- chester, and established her authority over her son's share of the partition. Meanwhile Robert, Duke of Normandy, died in a pil- grimage to the Holy Land, and being succeeded by his soa 60 CASSELL>S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1035 William, the two English princes, Alfred and Edward, who found no longer any countenance or proteotioa in that country, gladly embraced the opportunity of paying a visit, ■with a numerous retinue, to their mother Emma, who seemed to be placed in a state of so much power and splendour at Winchester. But the face of affairs soon wore a melancholy aspect : Earl Godwin liad been gained by the ducted to the monastery of Ely, where he died soon after. Edward and Emma, apprised of the fate which was awaiting them, fled beyond sea, the former into Normandy, the latter into Flanders; at Bruges she was received by Baldwin, Count of Flanders, and Adela, his wife ; while Harold, triumphing in his bloody pohcy, took possession, without resistance, of all the dominions assigned to his brother. Harold swearing to maintain the Right of the Duke of Normandy to the Throne of England. (See p. 65.) arts of Harold, who promised to espouse the daughter of that nobleman ; and while the treaty was yet a secret, these two tyrants laid a plan for the destruction of the English princes. Alfred was invited to London by Harold, with many pro- fessions of friendship ; but when he had reached Guildford, he waij set on by Godwin's vassals, nearly six hundred of his train were murdered in the most cruel manner, and himself was taken prisoner ; his eyes were put out, and he was con- This is the only memorable action performed, during a reign of three years, by this prince, who gave so bad a specimen of his character, and whose bodily accomplish- ments alone are known to us by his appellation of Harefoot, which he acquired from his agility in running and walking. He died on the 14th of April, 1038, little regretted or esteemed by his subjects, leaving the crown to his half- brother, Hardicanute. A.D. 1038.] REIGN OF HARDICANUTE. 'ibe DtatU of Hardicacute. (See [liigc ii±) CHAPTER XX. Hardicanute— Hij Violent Reign and Death. Hardicanute, or Canute the Strong, had never resigned his pretensions to the crown of England ; and the country was only spared the horrors of a civil war by the death of the late king. Under pretence of visiting the widowed queen in Flanders, he had assembled a fleet of sixty ships, 6 his real intention being to make a descent upon England. The news of Harold's death induced him at once to set sail He shortly afterwards entered London in triumph, and was acknowledged king without opposition. The first act of Hardicanute's government afforded Lis subjects a bad prognostic of his future conduct. He was so enraged at Harold for depriving him of his share of the CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1042 kiDgciom, and for the cruel treatment of his brother Alfred, that, in an impotent desire of revenge against the dead, he ordered his body to be dug up, and to be thrown into the Thames ; and when it was found by some fishermen, and buried in London, he ordered it again to be dug up, and to be thrown once more into the river ; but it was fished up a second time, and then interred with great secrecy. Godwin, equally servile and insolent, submitted to be his instrument in that unnatural and brutal action. That nobleman knew that he was universally believed to have been an accomplice in the barbarity exercised on Alfred, and that he was on that account obnoxious to Hardicanute : and perhaps he hoped, by displaying this rage against Harold's memory, to justify himself from having had any participation in his counsels ; but Prince Edward, being invited over by the king, immediately on his appearance preferred an accu- sation against Godwin for the murder of Alfred, and de- manded justice for that crime. Godwin, in order to appease the king, made him a magnificent present of a galley with a gilt stern, rowed by fourscore men, who wore each of them a gold bracelet on his arm, weighing sixteen ounces, and were armed and clothed in the most sumptuous manner. Hardicanute, pleased with the splendour of this spectacle, quickly forgot his brother's murder ; and on Godwin's swearing that he was innocent of the crime, he allowed him to be acquitted. Though Hardicanute, before his accession, had been called over by the vows of the English, he soon lost the affections of the nation by his misconduct ; but nothing appeared more grievous to them than his renewing the imposition of Dane- gelt, and obliging the nation to pay a great sum of money to the fleet which brought him from Denmark. The discontents ran high in many places : in "Worcester the poj)ulace rose, and put to death two of the collectors (a.d. 1041). The king, enraged at this opposition, swore vengeance against the city, and ordered three noblemen — Godwin, Duke of AVessex, Siward, Duke of Northumberland, and Leoftic, Duke of Mercia — to execute his orders with the utmost rigour. They were obliged to set fire to the city, and deUver it up to be plundered by their soldiers ; but they saved the lives of the inhabitants, whom they confined in a small island of the Severn, called Beverly, till by their intercession they were enabled to appease the anger of the tyrant. This violent reign was of short duration. Hardicanute died three years after his accession, in consequence of his excesses in drinking. This event took place at the marriage feast of a Danish noble- man at Lambeth, on June 8, 1042. >^ CHAPTER XXL ' Edward tho Confoasor— IIi3 Life and Reign, TThe English, on the death of Hardicanute, saw that a favourable opportunity had occurred for recovering their ancient independence, and shaking off the Danish yoke, which was insufferably galling to a proud and spirited people. Prince Edward was fortunately at court at the time of his brother's death ; and though the true Saxon heir was the descendant of Edmund Ironside, the absence of that prince in Hungary appeared a sufficient reason for his exclusion. Delays might be dangerous ; the occasion might not again present itself, and must be eagerly embraced before the Danes, now left in the island without a leader, had time to> recover from the confusion into which the death of their king had thrown them. But this concurrence of circumstances in favour of Edward might have failed of its eSect, had his succession been opposed by Godwin, whose power, alliances, and abilities gave him a great influence at all times, especially amidst those sudden opportunities which always attend a revolution of govern- ment, and which, either seized or neglected, commonly prove decisive. There were opposite reasons which divided men's hopes and fears with regard to Godwin's conduct. On the one hand, the credit of that nobleman lay chiefly in Wessex, which was almost entirely inhabited by English : it was therefore presumed that he would second the wishes of that people in restoring the Saxon line, and in humbling the Danes, from whom he, as well as they, had reason to dread, as they had already felt, the most grievous oppressions. Ou the other hand, there existed a declared animosity between Edward and Godwin, on account of Alfred's murder, of which the latter had been publicly accused by the prince, and which he might believe so deep an offence as could never, on account of any subsequent merits, be sincerely pardoned. But their common friends here interposed, and, representing the necessity of their reconciliation, obliged them to lay aside all jealousy and rancour, and concur in restoring liberty to their native country. Godwin only stipulated that Edward, as a pledge of his sincerity, should promise to marry his daughter, Editha ; and having fortified himself by this alli- ance, he summoned a general council at Gilliugham, and pre- pared every measure for securing the succession to Edward. The English were unanimous and zealous in their resolutions; tho Danes were divided and dispirited ; any small opposition which appeared in this assembly was browbeaten and sup- pressed ; and Edward was crowned king with every demoaiL- stration of duty and affection. The triumph of the English, on this signal and de^cisive advantage, was at first attended with some insult and Vio- lence against the Danes ; but the king, by the mildness of his character, soon reconciled the latter to his administration, and the distinction between the two nations gradually dis- appeared. The Danes were interspersed with the English in most of the provinces, and spoke nearly the same lan- guage. The joy of their deliverance made such an impression on the English, that they had an annual festival, which was ob- served in some countries even to the time of Spelman. The popularity of Edward's accession was not destroyed by the first act of his administration, -which was to resume all grants made by his immediate predecessors — a stretch of power, in most instances, attended by dangerous conse- quences to the kingly authority and the well-being of the state. The poverty of the crown convinced the people of its necessity ; and as these grants had been lavished chiefly upon their enemies, tlie Danes, as rewards for their services in opposing them, the English regarded it as an act of justice rather than one of spoliation. The new king treated his mother, the Queen Dowager, not only with coldness, but some degree of severity, on account of her having neglected him in his adversity. He accused her of preferring her son by Canute to his brother and him. self — which, when the characters of her first and second husbands are compared, appears by no means improbable. TO 1066.] DISAFFECTION OF EARL GODWIN. 63 He stripped her of the great wealth she had amassed, and cou- fined her for the rest of her hfe in a convent at Winchester. The accusation of her having been a party to the murder of her son Alfred, and of her criminal intercourse with the Bishop of Winchester, which she is said to have cleared herself from by walking barefoot over nine red-hot plough- shares, must be regarded as tradition merely. The English fondly believed that by the accession of Edward they had delivered themselves for ever from the dominion of foreigners ; but they soon found that they were in error; for the king, who had been educated at the court of his uncle in Normandy, had contracted so strong an affection for the natives of that country that his court was speedily filled by them. This partiality will be considered by no means an unna- tural one, when it is remembered that the natives of that populous and wealthy state were far more polished than the comparatively rude, unlettered Saxons, and their culture superior. The example of the monarch was not without its influence ; the courtiers imitated the Normans both in dress and manners. The French became the language not only of the court, but of law ; even the Church felt its influence, Edward creating Ulf and William, two Norman priests. Bishops of Dorchester and London. Robert, another native of the same country, was soon afterwards elevated to the primacy. All these changes gradually excited the jealousy of the English nation ; although it may be justly doubted whether the most far-sighted amongst them foresaw that it was gradually preparing the way for a fresh conquest of the country. Amongst those who bitterly resented the innovation were ■^ Earl Godwin and his sons, the most powerful nobles in Britain. / The father, besides being Duke or Earl of Wessex, for / the title was indiscriminately used, had the counties of ' Kent and Sussex annexed to his government. His eldest \ son, Sweyn, possessed the same authority in Oxford, Berk- \ shire, Gloucester, and Hereford ; whilst Harold, the second \ son, was Duke of East Anglia and governor of Essex. The influence of this family was supported not only by immense possessions, but great personal talents — qualities which the ambition of Godwin rendered still more dan- gerous. A prince of greater capacity and vigour than Edward would have found it difiicult to support the dignity of the crown under such circumstances ; and as the haughty temper of Godwin made him often forget the respect due to his sovereign, Edward's animosity against him was grounded on personal as well as political considerations — on recent as well as more ancient injuries. The king, in pursuance of his engagements, had indeed married Editha, the daughter of Godwin ; but this alliance became a fresh source of enmity between them. Edward's hatred of the father was transferred to that princess ; and Editha, though possessed of many amiable accomplishments, could never acquire the confidence and affection of her husband. It is even pretended that, during the whole course of her life, he abstained from all commerce of love with her ; and such was the absurd admiration paid to an inviolable chastity during those ages, that his conduct in this par- ticular is highly celebrated by the monkish historians, and greatly contributed to hk actiuiring the title of saint and confessor. The most popular pretence on which Godwin could ground his disaffection to the king and his administration, was to complain of the influence of the Normans in the government ; and a declared opposition had thence arisen between him and these favourites. It was not long before this animosity broke into action. Eustace, Count of Bou- logne, having paid a visit to the king, passed by Dover in bis return : one of his train being refmed entrance to a lodging which had been assigned him, attempted to make his way by force, and in the contest he wounded the master of the house. The inhabitants revenged this insult by the death of the stranger ; the count and his train took arms, and murdered the wounded townsman ; a tumult ensued ; near twenty persons were killed on each side ; and Eustace, being overpowered by numbers, was obliged to save his life by flight from the fury of the populace. He hurried immediately to court, and complained of the usage he had met with. The king entered zealotisly into the quarrel, and waa highly displeased that a stranger of such distinction, whom he had invited over to his cotxrt, should, without any just cause, as he believed, have been exposed to such insult and danger. Edward felt so sensibly the insolence of his people, that he gave orders to Godwin, in whose government Dover lay, to repair immediately to the place, and to punish the inhabitants for the crime ; but Godwin, who desired ratier to encourage than repress the popular discontents against foreigners, refused obedience, and endeavoured to throw the whole blame of the riot on the Count of Boulogne and his retinue. Edward, touched in so sensible a point, saw the necessity of exerting the royal authority ; and he threatened Godwin, if he persisted in his disobedience, to make him feel the utmost effects of his resentment. The earl, perceiving a rupture to be unavoidable, and pleased to embark in a cause where it was hkely he should be supported by his countrymen, made preparations for his own defence, or rather for an attack on Edward. Under pretence of repressing some disorders on the Welsh frontier, he secretly assembled a great army, and was approaching the king, who resided, without any mihtary force, and without suspicion, at Gloucester. Edward applied for protection to Siward, Duke of Northumberland, and Leofric, Duke of Mercia, two powerful noblemen, whose jealousy of Godwin's greatness, as well as their duty to the crown, engaged them to defend the king in this extremity. They hastened to him with such of their followers as they could assemble on a sudden ; and finding the danger much greater than they had at first apprehended, they issued orders for mustering all the forces within their respective governments, and for marching them without delay to the defence of the king's person and authority. Edward, meanwhile, endeavoured to gain time by negotiation ; while Godwin, who thought the king entirely in his power, and who was willing to save appearances, fell into the snare ; and not sensible that he ought to have no farther reserve after he had proceeded so far, he lost the favourable opportunity of rendering himself master of the govern- ment. The English, though they had no idea of Edward' vigour and capacity, bore him great affection on account of his humanity, justice, and piety, as well as the long race of their native kings from whom he was descended ; and they hastened from all quarters to defend him from the 64 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1042 present danger. His array was now so considerable, that he ventured to talie the field ; and, marching to London, he summoned a general council of the nation, to judge the rebellion of Godwin and his sons. These nobles affected at first a williogness to stand their trial, but demanded hostages for their safety, which were indignantly refused. Soon afterwards, finding themselves deserted by the majority of their adherents, they disbanded their remaining forces, and fled the country. Baldwin, Count of Flanders, gave shelter and protection to the earl and three of his sous, Gurth, Sweyn, and Tostig, the last being his son-in-Liw. Harold and Leofwiu, two younger brothers, took refuge in Ireland. Godwin himself had fixed his influence too strongly in England, and had too many allies, not to make some efforts to retrieve his misfortunes. The Earl of Flanders permitted him, in 1052, to fit out an expedition in his harbours, which he directed towards Sandwich ; but was compelled to retreat before the numerous fleet which Edward equipped against him. The exile appears to have been far more politic and clear- sighted than the king, who, satisfied with his success, and deeming his enemy completely crushed, disbanded his men and neglected his ships, whilst Godwin kept his in readi- ness. Deeming the time at last had come, he put to sea once more, and sailed for the Isle of Wight, where he was joined by his sou Harold, with considerable succours, col- lected in Ireland. Being now master of the sea, he plundered all the har- bours of the southern coast, burning the ships of Edward, and called upon his followers in those counties which owned his authority to take arms in his cause. The appeal was not made in vain : such numbers flocked to Lis standard that he entered the Thames, and caused great terror to the citizens of London. The king alone showed the resolution to oppose the rebels and defend the city to the last extremity. The nobles, how- ever, fearing a civil war, and many of them conceiving Godwin to have reason, induced Edward to listen to terms of accommodation, which the affected humility of the earl, who declared that he only demanded a fair and impartial trial, materially assisted. It was stipulated that he should give hostages for his future loyalty and peaceable conduct ; and that the primate, and all foreigners, should be sent out of the realm. Godwin died shortly afterwards, whilst sitting at table with the king. lie was succeeded in the govern- ment of Sussex, Kent, and Essex, as well as in the office of Steward of the Household, by his son Harold, who, equally ambitious as his father, possessed more prudence and ad- \lres3. By a modest, sensible line of conduct, he succeeded in obtainint; the favour of the king, and daily increased the number of his partisans, tiU his authority equalled that of the monarch himself. Edward, who saw that his subject was becoming his iqual, attempted to raise a rival to him in the person of Algar, son of Leofric, Duke of IMercia, whom he invested with the government of East Anglia ; but Algar was speedily expelled from his government by the intrigues of Harold, who bitterly resented his nomination, the govern- ment of that province having been formerly in his own family. 'J'his check, however, was not of long continuance. The young noble having married the daughter of Griffith, Prince of Wales, the influence of his father-in-law, backed by the authority of Edward, quickly reinstated him. This peace was not of long duration ; Harold, taking advantage of Leofric's death, which happened soon after, expelled Algar anew, and banished him the kingdom ; and though that nobleman made a fresh irruption into East Anglia with an army of Norwegians, and overran the country, his death soon freed Harold from the j;iretensions of so dangerous a rival. Edward, the eldest son of Algar, was indeed advanced to the government of Mercia ; but the balance which the king desired to establish between those potent fiimilies was wholly lost, and the influence of Harold greatly preponderated. The death of Siward, Duke of Northumberland, in 1055, made the way still more open to the ambition of that nobleman. Siward, besides his other merits, had acquired honour to England by his successful conduct in the only foreign enterprise undertaken during the reign of Edward. Duncan, King of Scotland, was a prince of a gentle dis- position, but possessed not the genius requisite for governing a country so turbulent, and so much iufested by the in- trigues and animosities of the great. Macbeth, a powerful nobleman, and nearly allied to the crown, not content with curbing the king's authority, carried still further his pestilent ambition : he put his sovereign to death ; chased Malcolm Kenraure, his son and heir, into England ; and usurped the crown. Siward, whose daughter was married to Duncan, embraced, by Edward's orders, the protection of this dis- tressed family : he marched an army into Scotland ; and having defeated and killed Macbeth in battle, he restored JMalcolm to the throne of his ancestors. This service, added to his former connections with the royal family of Scotland, brought a great accession to the authority of Siward iu tlie north ; but as he had lost his ehlest son, Osberne, in the action with Jlacbcth, it proved in the issue fatal to his family. His second son, Waltheof, appeared, on Lis father's death, too young to be entrusted with the government of Northumberland ; and Harold's influence obtained tint dukedom for his own brother, Tostig. There are two circumstances related of Siward which dis- cover his high sense of honour and his martial disposition. When intelligence was brought to him of his son Osborne's death, he was inconsolable, till he heard that tlie wound was received in the breast, and that he had behived with great gallantry in the action. AVhen he found his own death approaching, he ordered his servants to clothe him in a complete suit of armour ; and sitting erect on the couch, with a spear in his hand, declared that in that posture, the only one worthy of a warrior, he would patiently await the fatal moment. Tlie king, now worn out with cares and infirmities, felt himself far advanced in the decline of life ; and having no issue himself, began to think of appointing a successor tO' the kingdom. He sent a deputation to Hungary, to invite over his nephew Edward, son of his elder brother, and the only remaining heir of the Saxon line. That prince, whose succession to the crown would have been easy and undis- puted, came to England with his children, Edgar, surnamed Atheling, Margaret, and Christina ; but his death, which happened a few days after his arrival, threw the king into- new difficulties. Ho saw that the great power and ambition of HaroU had tempted him to think of obtaining possession TO A.D. IOjG.] RIVAL ASPIRANTS TO THE ENGLISH THRONE. 65 of the throne on the first vacancy; and that Edgar, on account of his youth and iuexperieuce, was very unfit to oppose the pretensions of so popular and enterprising a rival. The animosity which he had long borne to Earl ■Godwin made liim averse to the succession of his son ; and he could not, without extreme reluctance, think of an increase of grandeur to a femily which had risen on the ruins of royal .authority, and which, by the murder of Alfred, his brother, had contributed so much to the weakening of the Saxon Hue. In this uncertainty, he secretly cast his eye towards his kinsman, 'Williani, Duke of Normandy, as the only person whose power, and reputation, and capacity could support Any destination which he might make in his fiivour, to the •exclusion of Harold and his family. This famous prince was natural son of Robert, Duke of Normandy, by Ilarlotta, daughter of a tanner in Falaise, and was very early established in that grandeur from which his birth seemed to Lave set him at so great a dis- tance. While he was but nine years of age, his iiither had resolved to undertake a pilgrimage to Jerusalem — a fashionable act of devotion, which had taken the place of the pilgrimages to Rome, and which, as it was attended with more difficulty and danger, and carried those rehgious ■enthusiasts to the cradle of ChrLstianity, appeared to them more meritorious. Before setting out on his expedition, he assembled the states of his duchy, and induced them to swear allegiance to his son Wi'liam, whom, as he had no legitimate issue, he designated his successor, in the event of his never returning. The duke died whilst engaged in this pilgrimage; and the minority of his sou afforded to the luxurious nobles full scope for the gratification of their passions. But the great qualities which the young prince soon dis- played, encouraged his friends, and struck consternation to ■his enemies : he appe.ired himself in arms, on aU sides, -to liis turbulent and rebellious subjects ; and obliged Henri I. of France, who thought it a favourable occasion to repress a too powerful subject, to conclude a peace upon honourable conditions. The tranquillity which William, after many efforts, suc- ceeded in establishing, gave him leisure to pay Edward a visit in England, during the period of Earl Godwin's exile in Flanders. He was received in a manner suitable to his reputation, and the near relationship between them, by the Saxon monarch, who began to think of nominating the young Duke of Normandy as his successor. This occurred before the return of Harold, who now proceeded, in a more open manner, to prepare the way to the throne, by using every means to increase his popularity ■with the people. From the age and great infirmities of the king, he foresaw that the vacancy could not be long dis- tant ; but there was still an obstacle to be vanquished. Earl Godwin, his father, had given hostages for his future loyalty and peaceable conduct ; and these hostages — amongst whom were one son and grandson of the ambitious noble — Edward, for greater security, as has been related, ■had consigned to the custody of the Duke of Normandy. Harold, though not aware of the duke being his com- petitor, -n-as uneasy that such near relations should be detained prisoners in a foreign country ; and he was afraid lest William should, in favour of Edgar, retain these pledges as a check on the ambition of any other pretender. He ■represented, therefore, to the king his unfeigned submission to royal authority, his steady duty to his prince, and the little necessity there was, after such a uniform trial of his obedience, to detain any longer those hostages who had been required on the first composing of civil discords. By these topics, enforced by his great power, he extorted the king's consent to release them ; and in order to effect his purpose, he immediately proceeded, with a numerous retinue, on his journey to Normandy. A tempest drove him on the territory of Guy, Count of Ponthieu, who, being iuformetl of his quality, immediately detained him prisoner, and demanded an exorbitant sum for his ransom. Harold found means to convey intelligence of his situation to the Duke of Normandy ; and represented, that while he was proceeding to his court, in execution of a commission from the King of England, he had met with this harsh treatment from the mercenary disposition of the Count of Ponthieu. William was immediately sensible of the importance of the incident : he foresaw that if he could once gain Harold, either by favours or menaces, his way to the tlirone of England would be open, and Edward would meet with no farther obstacle in executing the favourable intentions which he had entertained in his behalf. He sent, therefore, a messenger to Guy, in order to demand the liberty of his prisoner ; and that nobleman, not daring to refuse so great a prince, put Harold into the hands of the Norman, who conducted him to Rouen. William received him with every demonstration of respect and friendship ; and after showing himself disposed to comply with his desire, in deUveriug up the hostages, he took an opportunity of disclosing to him the great secret of his pretensions to the crown of England, and of the will which Edward intended to make in his favour. He desired the assistance of Harold in perfecting that design ; he made professions of the utmost gratitude in return for so great an obligation ; he promised that the present grandeur of Harold's family, which supported itself with difficulty owing to the jealousy of Edward, should receive fresh increase from a successor who would be so much be- holden to him for his advancement. Harold concealed his surprise and consternation at the intelligence ; but, conscious that he could not regain either his own liberty, or that of his brother and nephew, affected compliance, and declared his firm intention of maintaining the will of the Con- fessor. (A.D. 1057.) William oft'ered him one of his daughters in marriage, as a means of binding him still more strongly to his interests; and proposed that he should take an oath to keep liis promise, to which Harold reluctantly assented. Then occurred one of those remarkable scenes so common in the superstitious age in which the principal actors of it flourished. William caused the most celebrated relics of the saints and martyrs to be brought from the churches, and secretly placed beneath the covering of the altar on whicli the English noble was to take the oath. No sooner were the solemn words pronounced, than the prelate who had administered them drew oft" the cloth, and displayed the holy collection. Harold was appalled. " Behold," exclaimed William, " the relies of God's blessed saints and martyrs — not one of them but is a witness of tho oath you have just taken. Beware how you violate it, for they will feel themselves bound in honour to avenge it." This speech, so highly characteristic of the times, and the belief of the age, was not without its effect upon Harold, who once more renewed the promises he had 66 UASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1042 made, and was soon afterwards dismissed from Normandy in all comrtesy and honour. No sooner, however, had Harold returned to his native country, than he began to reflect on the engagement he had taken, and attempted to justify the breach he already meditated, by the fact that it had been extorted by fear, and that, if fulfiUed, it might ultimately subject England to him by giving him two occasions of distinguishing himself. The first was an expedition against the Welsh, who had long been accustomed to iLfest and plunder the western borders of the kingdom, and, after spoiling the country, retreat to their own mountain fastnesses. Griffith, the reigning prince, had greatly distinguished himself in these incursions ; and his name had become so William, Duke of Normandy. the yoke of a foreign power, which had already caused such miseries to his fellow-countrymen. He still continued, therefore, to practise every art to increase his popularity — in the hope, by thus displaying his power and pojiularity before Edward, to prevent the aged monarch from carrying out his intentions in favour of his rival. '.'ortuue, shortly after his arrival in England, favoured terrible to the English, that Harold found he could do nothing more acceptable to the public, and more honourable for himself, than the suppressing of so dangerous an enemy. He formed the plan of an expedition against Wales; and having prepared some light-armed foot to pursue the natives into their fastnesses, some cavalry to scour the open country, and a squadron of ships to attack the sea-coast, he employi.il at occe all these forces against the Welsh, prosecuted bis TO A.D. lOlJO.J LNStTRRECTION IN NORTHUMBERLAND. 67 advantages with vigour, made uo uitermission io his assaults, and at last reduced the enemy to such distress, that, in order to prevent their total destruction, they made a sacrifice of their prince, whose head they cut off, and sent to Harold; and they were content to receive as their sovereigns two Welsh noblemen appointed by Edward to rule over them. The other incident was no less honourable to Harold. ' reduce and chastise the Northumbrians. Before the armies ' came to action, Morcar, well acquainted with the generous disposition of the English commander, endeavoured to justify I his own conduct. He represented to Harold that Tostig had ' behaved in a manner unworthy of the station to which he I was advanced ; and no one, not even a brother, could support I such tyranny without participating, in some degree, in the I infamy attending it ; tliat the Northumbrians, accustomed The Shrine of Edward the Coafessor, iii W'estmiastsr Abbey, Tostig, brother of this nobleman, who had been created Duke of Northumberland, being of a violent, tyrannical temper, had acted with such cruelty and injustice, that the inhabitants rose in rebellion, and chased him from his government. Morcar and Edwin, two brothers, who pos- sessed great power in those parts, and who were grandsons of the great Duke Leofric, concurred in the insurrection ; and the former, being elected duke, advanced witli an army to oppose Harold, who was commissioned by the king to to a legal administration, and regarding it as their birth- right, were willing to submit to the king, but required a governor who would pay regard to their rights and privi- leges; that they had been taught by their ancestors that death was preferable to servitude, and had taken the field, determined to perish rather than suffer a renewal of those indignities to which they had long been exposed ; and they trusted that Harold, on reflection, would not defend in another the violence he had repressed in his own government es CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 978 This remonstrance was accompanied by sucli proofs of the justice of the complaints, tliat Harold felt himself compelled to abandon his brother's cause ; and, returning to Edward, persuaded the king to pardon the Northumbrians, and to confirm iMoroar in the government. He afterwards married the sister of that nobleman. Tostig, in a rage, quitted England, and took refuge with his father-in-law, the Earl of Flanders. By this union, William perceived that Harold had broken faith with him, and naturally considered, that if he had done so in espousing another than his daughter, to whom he had "previously engaged himself, no rehance could be placed upon his oath ; and began to despair of success, for his rival's conduct had gained him the univers.d approbation of his countrymen. Harold now openly declared his pretensions to the suc- cession, which the aged Edward was too irresolute either to oppose or arrest. Whilst things were in this state, he was surprised by sickness, and died on the 5th of January, 1066, in the sixty- iifth year of his age, and the twenty-fifth of his reign. This prince, to whom the Church has given the title of saint and confessor, was the last of the Saxon line that ruled in England. Though his reign was peaceable and fortunate, he owed his prosperity less to his own abilities than to the conjunctures of the times. The Danes, employed in other enterprises, did not attempt those incursions which Lad been so troublesome to all his predecessors, and fatal to some of them. The facility of his disposition made him acquiesce under the government of Godwin and his son Harold ; and the abilities as well as the power of these noblemen enabled them, while they were entrusted with authority, to preserve domestic peace and tranquillity. The most commendable circumstance of Edward's govern- ment was his attention to the administration of justice ; and his compiling, for that purpose, a body of laws, which he collected from the laws of Ethelbert, Ina, and Alfred. This compilation, though now lost (for the laws that pass under Edward's name were composed afterwards), was long the object of affection to the English nation. Edward the Confessor was the first that touched for the king's evil : the opinion of his sanctity procured belief to this cure among the people ; and many of his successors regarded it as a part of their state and grandeur to uphold the same opinion. Queen Anne, we believe, was the last sovereign who practised it. CHAPTER XXII. State of the Church from Ethelred II. to the Death of Edward the Confessor. Amongst the canons of the Church generally ascribed to Elfric, the thirty-third obliges the priests to have two sorts of sacred oil or chrism — one for the sick, and another for children — and enjoins that the former should always be anointed in their beds. In the same canon the first four general councils are declared of equal authority as the Gospels. From the beginning of the reign of Ethelred II. to the Norman conquest, wo find in the ecclesiastical history of England but two councils. Alost probably, the wars with the Danes prevented the bishops from assembling more frequently, or perhaps were the occasion of the records of these conventions being lost. Both these councils, the one held at Engsham, and the other at Haba, assembled whilst Elphcgus was archbishop. They consisted of seculars as well as ecclesiastics, and the constitutions passed there related both to Church and State. The most remarkable canons are as follow : — In the council of Engsham, the second canon enjoins the celibacy of the clergy. The ninth forbids all persons to do any wrong to the Church, or eject a clergyman out of his benefice without the consent of the bishop. By the seventeenth, every Friday was to be a fast, unless it fell upon a holiday. The nineteenth enjoins widows to stay twelve months after the death of their husbands before they marry again. The twentieth enjoins frequent confessions, and the people are ordered to receive the sacrament three times, at least, in a year. The council of Haba has but one canon worth notice — namely, the second, by which every Christian was obliged to fast three days with bread and water before the feast of St. Jlichael, and to distribute among the poor what he should have eaten in these three days. These are the only canons worth remarking in these two synods ; but to supply the want of councils, we have the ecclesiastical laws of Canute the Great and Edward the Confessor, some of which are inserted, to show the great regard these two monarchs had for the clergy. The follow- ing are Canute's : — The fourth enjoins all Christians to pay great respect to the clergy, because their sacerdotal functions are extremely beneficial to the people. By the fifth, if a priest was accused of any crime, he had the liberty of purging himself by saying mass, and receiving the eucharist. The twelfth recommends celibacy to the clergy, and ranks them among the thanes of the second class— that is, among the gentry. The twentieth ordains that at funerals the dues shall be paid upon the breaking up of the ground ; and that the dues shall be paid to the parish the deceased belonged to, though he was buried elsewhere. The twenty-second enjoins the observance of Sunday from Saturday at three o'clock in the afternoon, tiU Monday at break of day. The twenty-third determines the times of fasting, and places the vigils of the festivals of the blessed Virgin and of the apostles among the fasts. There are several others, relating to the payment of tithes and Peter-pence, the violators of the privileges of the clergy, and the like, in favour of the Church. It is also decreed by these laws, that every Christian should learn the Lord's Prayer and the Apostles' Creed ; otherwise, they were allowed neither to stand godfather, nor receive the communion, nor have Christian burial. The ecclesiastical laws of Edward Che Confessor relate chiefly to the protection of the Church and clergy. The first forbids the molesting a clergyman, contrary to the tenour of the privileges of the Church. The second appoints certain days, whereon all proceedings in the courts of justice were to cease. By the third the Church's causes are to be tried first. TO A.D. 1066.] ECCLESIASTICAL LAWS OF EDWARD THE CONFESSOR. 69 The fourth firmly establishes the immunities of those who in any wise depend on the Church, and ordains that they shall not be obliged to answer any plea, &c., except in the ecclesiastical court. The fifth confirms the privilege of sanctuary to churches, and extends it even to priests' houses. By the sixth, if any person broke in upon the privileges of the Church, he had no way of being relieved but by sub- mitting to the sentence of the bishop. The sixth orders the punctual payment of tithes, and sets forth what is to be paid. devout and easy princes, or such as stood in need of their interest. But notwithstanding the great consideration of the Saxoa' kings for the clergy, thoy could not retain the privilege of choosing their bishops and abbbots. Whilst the prelates confined themselves within the bounds of their pa.storal functions, and meddled not with civil matters, the power of electing was freely left to the chapters ; but when the bishops became rich and popular, and began to interpose in state affairs, by reason of the fiefs they were possessed of, it was of great consequence to t)ie kings to have such. Building of the Tower of Babel.— From a Saxon MS. The ninth determines the circumstances relating to the ordeal trial. The twelfth settles the fine of manbote, or the sum to be paid to the lord for killing any of his vassals or slaves. The king's and the archbishop's manbote is fixed at the same sum. By the thirteenth, all treasure found belongs to the king, unless it be found in a church or churchyard ; then the gold is the king's, and the silver the Church's. It is visible, throughout these laws, that the clergy took care of themselves, when they came in contact with bishops and abbots as were in their interest, or, at least, were obliged to them for their preferments. Accordingly, the kings began to interpose in elections, by way of can- vassing, or recommendation, and very often by refusing to put in possession of the fiefs belonging to the church or abbey such prelates and abbots as they did not hke; and, ultimately, the authority of the court prevailed so, that in the time of Ethelred II. the monks had entirely lost the privilege of choosing their abbots, as appears from Ingulphus, who says, " In those days the monks and abbots seldom resorted to court. But ever since the kings 70 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.r>. 978 liave disposed of the abbeys, the mouks have made interest ■with the courtiers, which sometiirios cost them very dear." The historian himself loudly complains of this abuse, though he was installed in the abbey of Croyland by the same method — that is, by the sole wUl and pleasure of William the Conqueror. There were but two removals of bishops' sees within the period now treated of. The see of Kirton, in Wessex, was removed to Exeter, and the see of Lindisfarn, in Northumberland, to Durham. Aldhun, Bishop of Lin- disfarn, being disturbed in that small island by the incursions of the Danes, removed to Durham, carrying with him the relics of St. Cuthbert, where he built a cathedral, and fixed his see, which remains there to this day. In 981, the archiepiscopal see of Canterbury acquired a new jurisdiction in Wales. Gucan, a Welsh priest, being chosen Bishop of Llandaff, and consecrated by Archbishop Dunstan, this precedent was followed by his successors, who, like him, owned the Archbishop of Canterbury for their metropolitan : and some writers have inferred from hence, that all the British bishops at the same time owned the superiority of the Church of Rome ; but this cannot be admitted. It is certain the Bishops of St. David's exer- cised the archiepiscopal functions in Wales, tiU the time of Henry I., and that without the ornament of the pall, the mark of submission to the Pope. Edmund, Bishop of Durham, was remarkable for the manner of his election. The chapter of Durham having met to elect a bishop, and not being able to agree in their choice, Edmund, a priest of that church, said jestingly that, since they were at a loss whom to choose, they might as good select him and make him a bishop. As miracles were then much in vogue, the chapter looked upon this as a Divine inspiration, and elected him. He afterwards proved worthy of the office to which he had been chosen in so singular a fashion : reprimanding vice even in the highest, and doing anything in his power for the encouragement of learning and virtue. Of the division of the kingdom into parishes, we find that Augustin, the first Saxon bishop, received from the King of Kent certain lands for the maintenance of himself and the monks who accompanied him. On receiving this gift, he consulted Pope Gregory I. as to how it ought to be disposed of. The reply was, that the Church of Rome was accustomed to divide the revenues and offerings of the Church into four portions, and devote one of them to the support of the inferior clergy ; but as Augustin and his companions were monks, he recommended them to live together in community. At first, there was but one such church ; but as the number of converts increased, others were built, and the districts surrounding each gradually divided into parishes — slowly at first, the people not approving that the priests who officiated in them should have no share in the offerings and oblations which were reserved for the bishops. This circumstance induced the prelates at last to abandon their claim to them to the hard-working or inferior clergy ; upon which (he churches increased rapidly in England ; the diviions of them, as they appew in the D lomsday- book, in the majority of instances, being the same as at the present day. CHAPTER XXIII. Saxoa Architecture. Few subjects in mediaeval art have led to so much contro versy as that of Saxon architecture ; one party of writers claiming for it a place as a distinct and separate style, and another totally denying its very existence. It was usual for writers on architecture before Rickman's time to denominate aU buildings in which the semicircular arch or the zigzag moulding prevailed as " Saxon," no matter how highly finished or how richly carved they might be ; and, consequently, all our fine Norman churches are in their works described as Saxon. When this designation was proved to be incorrect, a reaction took place, and some of our writers went so far as to deny the existence of any building of a date anterior to the Conquest. It was argued by these writers that the Saxons built with wood only, and that, consequently, all their erections had long since perished. But though it is true there is evidence to show that the usual material for building was wood, and that it was sometimes overlaid with lead and other metals, yet we find, on the other hand, in the works of early writers, indubitable proofs to show that stone was also used, particularly in rebuilding the churches and monasteries which had been destroyed by the Danes. Alfred set aside a sixth part of his income for this purpose, and we are told by Asser that " he built the houses majestic and good, beyond all the precedents of his ances- tors, by his new mechanical contrivances." It was first pointed out by Rickman, in his valuable work, that there were a number of churches in different parts of the kingdom which could be proved to be of very early date, and which did not agree in character either with the Roman remains or with the earliest of the Norman churches ; and that, in some instances, early Norman work had been built upon portions of these early buildings, thus affording conclusive evidence that these buildings must be of a prior date to that of the earliest Norman buildings. Strong confirmatory evidence is also offered when we find it stated, in a contemporary manuscript, that a church was built on a certain spot by some well-known ecclesiastic at a stated time, and still find standing on this spot a building, or portions of a building, of a style which cannot be referred to that of any subsequent period. We are justified in con- sidering this the building so mentioned ; and when we find all these buildings agreeing in certain general features, we are also justified in considering these as constituting the style of the period. Of this documentary evidence the following are examples. The venerable Bede, who was born and resided at Jarrow, in Durham, and who died a.d. 735, mentions the building of a monastery at that place by Benedict Biscopus, a.d. 687, and we no5v find standing on the spot a church, of which the chancel is of the rudest construction, and evidently of earlier date than the tower, which, from its style, cannot be much subsequent to the Conquest, and in which portions of the earlier building are built into the walls. The east window is of later date, but the side windows of the church (now blocked up) are of the rudest possible construction — round-headed, with the heads formed of a single stone. These are undoubtedly the work of Benedict. The church of IMonk's Wearnftoutli u also mentioned b|y Bede as having been built by the same li.niodiot, a.d. 676. TO A.D. 1066.] SAXON ARCHITECTURE. 71 This church si ill stands, and bears iudubitable proofs of its early date. The windows are divided by balusters, aud have other features peculiar to the period. A convent existed at Repton, in Derbyshire, in the seventh century, and was in the year 875 destroyed by the Danes. The church was afterwards rebuilt, and such por- tions as were not destroyed were built into the new erection, and they may still be distinguished by the peculiarities of their style. The original crypt under the church still re- mains in a tolerably perfect state, aud is a very remarkable specimen of the style. There are also curious crypts of this date still remaining under the Cathedral of Ripon and at Hexham. The latter is particularly interesting, from its having been constructed of materials taken from the Roman "Wall which pa.sses within a short distance of the place, and Roman inscribed slabs have been used in lorming its roof. In the Anglo-Saxon MSS. in the British Museum, the library of Salisbury Cathedral, and particularly the Para- phrase of Cmdmon, in the Bodleian Library, at Oxford, buildings of stone are distinctly shown in the illuminations, and these buildings, moreover, exhibit " the long and short work" and other distinctive features of the existing remains. This, therefore, may be taken as strong aud conclusive evi- dence that these buildings are of Saxon origin. The characteristics of this style are as follow : — Towers. — These are without buttresses, generally of the same dimensions from the foundation to the top, but some- times diminishing by stages. They are generally built of rubble, the stones being very irregular in size, with quoins had before him for a model a tower constructed of timber and plaster, and that he had endeavoured to imitate this in stone. The finest example which we have of this kind of ornament is the tower of Earl's Barton Church, Northamp- tonshire ; other examples also occur at Barton-on-Humber, and at Barnack. Tower of Sompting Church, Sussex. at the angles, which are formed of long stones set perpen- dicularly, and shorter ones laid horizontally alternately With them. (This is termed " long and short work.") They are sometimes divided into stages, and the surface inter- sected by upright projecting ribs of stone, as if the builder Wiuclow of Deerhurbt Cliuri.h, Glouce3'.er. -!e:K35^ vViudow of JaiTow Clinrdi, Durham. Doorway of Barnack Church, Northamptonshire. These towers seem always to have been coated with plaster between the ribs of stone, and this gives them still more a timber-like appearance. Some towers have not this ornament, and are quite plain. The kind of masonry called " herringbone" is frequently used, and Roman bricks taken from the ruins of earlier buildings are of frequent occurrence. 72 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 978 The upper portion of these Saxon towers has been flestroyed, and replaced by later parapets; so that it is not easy to say in what manner they terminated. But the very remarkable tower of Sompting, in Sussex, offers a ' valuable solution of the difficulty. In this tower each side terminates in an acutely pointed gable, from which the roof is carried up, and, meeting in a point, forms a sort of short work of projecting stone. They are usually — but not always — deeply recessed on the outside as well as in the inside, the narrowest part of the window being in the centre of the wall. AVhen the window is of two lights, it is divided by a small baluster, or shaft, set in the middle of the wall ; this supports an impost, which is generally one stone reaching through the entire thickness of the walL Tower of Earl's Barton Church, IJorthaniptonshire, square spire, such as wc still see in some of the churches in ( Germany. All these towers are without staircases, the dif- ferent storeys being only to be reached by ladders. The circular or newel stair turret seems not to have been intro- duced till the twelfth century. Windows. — ^These are either round-headed or triangular- headed, and are frequently surrounded by a sort of frame- Sometimes the heads of both single and double-light windows, instead of being arched, are formed of two straight stones meeting at the point, and forming a trian- gular head. The single lights are frequently little mo'^ than mere openings in the wall, frequently without orna- ment of any kind, the whole window being cut out oi a single stone, as at Caversfield, and the jambs are often TO A.V. 1066.] THE ANtfLO-SAXON CALENDAR. inclined, making the opening wider at the bottom than at the top. Ornament is not often attempted, but at Deer- huist the shaft and jambs are ornamented with a rude kind of fluting, and the imposts are cat into a series of simple square-edged mouldings. Roman bricks are sometimes used both for the jambs and for turning the arch, as at Brixworth. All these varieties of windows are very characteristic, and are not to be found in the later styles. Doorways. — These, like the windows, are either round or triangular-headed. The arches are generally turned of plain stones, without any moulding or ornament whatever — E»metimes simple, and sometimes recessed; but the projecting framework of plain stone is not unfrequent, as may be seen at Earl's Burton, Stanton Lacy, &c. The imposts are in general plain, but sometimes ornamented with a series of singular mouldings, generally square-edged and plain, as at Bamack, or with a kind of fluting, as at Earl's Burton. At Sompting, it is ornamented with a kind of scroU-work, though sculpture is seldom attempted. A cross is sometimes introduced above the door, as at Stanton Lacy, and it is re- markable that whenever the cross is used it is of the Greek form — that is, with the limbs of equal length, in contradis- tinction to the Latin type, in which the lower member is the longest. The triangular heads of the doorways are formed either by two stones placed diagonally, and resting one upon the other, or partly of horizontal stones cut obliquely. Both these varieties may be seen at Bamack. Doorways are also sometimes built of tiles, taken from Roman buUdings, as at Brixworth. Mouldings and Sculptures. — There are very few mouldings belonging to this style, the strings and othel members being mostly square-edged and plain, though, as at Dunham Magna, they are sometimes alternately notched on the edges. The capitals and bases of the shafts and balusters which divide the windows are moulded chiefly with round and square moulding. The sculptures are few, and very rude, as at St. Bene't's, Cambridge, where two lions are sculptured at the spring of the tower arch. Capitals. — The abacus seems in all cases to be a plain, square-edged, flat member, without chamfer (in which it differs from the Norman). The bell of the capital is either globular, as at Jarrow, or moulded, as before mentioned, or cut into a rude imitation of foliage, or of the Corinthian volute, as at Sompting. It is curious to observe the evident imitation of Eomair work in these capitals. The beautiful capital of the Corin thian order seems to have attracted the attention of the rude Saxon workman, and his first attempt at sculpture seems to have been to copy it. Its delicate and complicated foliage was too difficult for his hand, but he could make an imitation — rude though it be — of its more prominent feature, the volute. This partiality for the volute was condemned in the next century, through the early and late Norman, until, in the transition to the Early English, it produced those magnificent capitals of which we have a few examples in England, and so many on the Continent. It must not be expected that all these peculiarities will be found in one building ; but wherever any of them occur, there is a reasonable presumption that the building is of early date, and is deserving of further investigation. CHAPTER XXIV. Of the Manners, Castoms, and Laws of tbe Saxona. Illustrations drawn from ancient calendars are among I introduction to an account of Saxon customs, are taken from the best documents one can consult for obtaining a know- ' an Anglo-Saxon calendar composed some time before the ledge of former manners and customs. The twelve designs ' Norman Conquest, and preserved in the Cottonian Library. which follow, and which may convemently serve as an i Some explanatory notes are added. M iS?T--~^ . ^ Sngln-Sainn lUahniat. JaHUABT. — The heathen Saxons called this month " Wolf-monath," because the wolves were then most ravenous. It was also called " Aefter-Yula," or, after Christmas. In the entrraving, four oxen are laboriously drawing the plough. At that time they did not use horses for field labour ; and oxen are used, even at the present day, in some localities. February.— They are cutting down trees for 6rewood. The Saxons called February "Sprout-kele." Kelo meant "kele-wurt;' and was most extensively used at this time for making broth. The well-known custom of making pancakes on Shrove-Tuesday is a remnant of an old superstition, and certaialy one of the most pleasing {.hat has come down to us. 7 74 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. March was dedicated by the Saxons to the goddess Rhoeda, and hence called " Rhede-monath." It was called also " lUyd-monath," »r the stormy month. In the engraving they are digging, hoeing, and sowing with great ardour. After the introduction of Christianity, March was held in great reverence, as the month in which Lent began. April was " Oster-monath," because the wind generally blew from the east during this month. The engraving appears to represent three thanes celebrating a feast by quaffing ale from their drinking-horns. On one side is an armed guard with a long spear, and on the other two attendants. The bench on which the three worthy thanes are seated is adorned with two sculptures of formidable-looking animals. The use of chairs or sofas was then entirely unknown. They called the benches placed in the festal halls " medc bene," or "eale bene"— mead or ale benches. Mat was called " Trimilki," because then they began to milk the kine three times in the day. Shepherds are watching over the •ewes and lambs. May-day was the great niral festival of the Anglo-Saxons, and was celebrated with great pomp and rejoicing. This festival will soon be numbered amongst the things that were. June.— To June different names were given : " Weyd-monath," according to some, " because then the cattle beg.an to wej-d "—that is, feed in the meadows, which .at that time were usually marshes. According to others, it was called " Midsummer month." This was the time of the year at which the Saxons commenced their long voyages, and they are represented in the engraving in the act of cutting uown and dressing trees, in order to fit out their ships. TO A.D. 1066.] SAXON ILLUSrRATIONS OF THE MONTHS. Jolt was caUed by the Saxons « Heu-monath," or foliage month ; also " Hoy-monath," or hay month, bomg the month hi wkich they mowed and made hay, in which operations they aro represented as being engaged m the engravmg. They also caUed it " Lida-aftera," meaning the second lida, or second month after the sun's descent. AUGCST was by the Saxons called " Am-monath," or " Bam-monath," meaning harrest month. The instruments which appear in the engraving do not seem to differ much from those used at the present day. To the left appears a man sounding a horn with a spear in his right hand. Whether he is superintending the labourers, or is one of a hunting party entering the field, it ik hard to decide. The sheaves are being lifted by a fork into a cart, or wagon, of tolerably good construction. SEPTEMBEn was called "Gerst-monath"— barley month; so named from the liquor called " beerlegh " mada in that month, and nenoe "barley." The subject of the engraving is a boar-hunt. ' OOTOBBB was called the " Cold-monath, or "Wyn-monath" —wine month. The vine was extensively cultivated in England at the VgM of the Saxons. The figures are represented as engaged in hawking. ?6 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 9V8 November was called " Wint-monatb," or wind month, as this was the season of the year when the cold storms comn, ro^ ^w v were generally considered to last till March. It was the custom to light great fires in\he open al, in hofour^f th" goTakl^^^^^^^ mea^s of driving away evil spirits. The men are here seen approaching one of these to wai-m themselves. ^ ' introdnction of CWi..nity Christnias was the feast of Thof, and the^astrb^^uTculdt'^ks^lTin o"^^^ ft'away"! ' '""'' ^^^" "^^ '"^"^"^ '" '^'''^'"^ '^"^ '°'''' "'"""^'"S it with a fan and car^yf^g The foregoing designs afford, probably, as good an idea (IS can now be obtained of the occupations and amusements of our Saxon forefathers, and of their daily life in time of peace. With respect to the Anglo-Sa.xon form of government in its detail and working, the knowledge wliich has come down to us is very limited ; and it is reasonable to suppose that the government of different states varied considerably, and •was changed from time to time during the six centuries of Anglo-Saxon rule. It appears, however, that at all times, and in all the kingdoms, there was a national council, called a Wittena- gemot, or assembly of the mse men, whose consent was requisite for enacting laws and for ratifying the chief acts of public administration. The preambles to all the laws of Ethelbert, Ina, Alfred, Edward the Elder, Athelstan, Ed- mund, Edgar, Ethehed, and Edward the Confessor, even those to the laws of Canute, though a conqueror, put this matter beyond controversy, and carry proofs everywhere of a Umited and legal government. But who were the con- stituent members of this Wittenagemot has not been deter- mined with certainty by antiquaries. It is agreed that the bishops, abbots, and sometimes abbesses, were admitted- at least, it is supposed so. It is well known that the latter frequently signed the royal charters. The former digni- taries. It IS certain, formed a portion of the assembly. It also appears that the aldermen, or governors of counties, who were afterwards styled earls by the Danes, had seats in It. As much dispute has arisen respecting the importance of the office of alderman, it may be as well to examine the authorities upon the subject. It appears from the ancient translations of the Saxon annals and laws, and from King Alfred's translation of Bede, as well as from all the ancient historians, that comes in Latin, alderman in Saxon, and earl in Dano-Saxon, were quite synonymous. There is only a clause in a law of King Athelstan which has induced some antiquaries to suppose that an earl was superior to an alderman. The weregild, or the price of an earl's blood, is there fixed at 15,000 thrismas, equal to that of an archbishop ; whereas, that of a bishop and alderman is only 8,000 thrismas. To solve this difficulty, we must have recourse to Selden's conjecture, that the term " eari" was, in the age of Athelstan, just beginning to be in use in England, and. stood at that time for the atheling, or prince of the blood, heir to the crown. This he confirms by quoting a law of Canute, where an atheling and an archbishop are put upon the same footing. In another law of the same Athelstan, the were- gild of the prince, or atheling, is said to be 1.5,000 thrismas. He is therefore the same who is called " earl" in the former law. Men of superior rank, but still not powerful enough to ensure their individual safety from the oppression and in- justice of the nobles, entered into confederacies with each other for mutual support and protection. By the laws of one of these societies, established in Cambridgeshire, the members mutually bound themselves to be faithful to each other ; to bury any associate when he died ; to give information to the sheriff if any one of them should be exposed to danger from a lawless attack ; and if that officer neglected his duty, to levy a fine of a pound upon him. When any one of them should be murdered, eight pounds was to be exacted from the assassin, who, if he refused to pay it, was to be prosecuted at the joint expense of the society. to A.D. 1066.] ANGLO-SAXON SOCIAL CUSTOMS. 77 f If any of the members, who was a poor man, killed another, the society were to contribute, in a certain proportion, to pay his fiae : a mark a-piece if the fine be 700 ahillings ; less if the person killed be a clown or ceorle ; and the half of that sum again if he be a Welshman. But where any of the associates kills a man wilfully and without provocation, he A SaxOD Blaok*mith. -From an old MS. must himself pay the fine. If any of the associates kill any of his fellows in a like criminal manner, besides paying the usual fine to the relations of the deceased, he must pay eight pounds to the society, or renounce the benefit of it : in which case they bind themselves, under the penalty of one pound, never to eat or drink with him, except in the presence of the king, bishop, or alderman. There were other regu- lations to protect themselves and their servants from aU injuries, to revenge such as were committed, and to prevent their giving abusive language to each other ; the fine which they engaged to pay for this last offence was a measure of honey. The Saxons, like the rest of the German nations, were divided into three classes — the noble, the free, and the slave ; a distinction they maintained after they had settled in Britain. The nobles were called thanes, and were of two kinds — Ihe king's thanes, and lesser thanes. The latter seem to liave been dependent on the former, and to have received lands, for which they paid rent, services, or attendance in peace or war. We know of no title which raised any one to the rank of thane, except noble birth and the possession of land. The former was always much regarded by all the German nations. There are two statutes, however, to be found amongst the Saxon laws which seem to confound these ranks. Athelstan decreed that the merchant who had made three long sea voyages on his own account should be entitled to the quality of thane, and that a husbandman who had bought five hides of land, and had a chapel, a kitchen, a hrll, and a bell, should enjoy the same rank. The cities, according to the Doomsday-book, appear to have been little better than villages : York, the second ii\ the kingdom, contained but 1,418 families ; Norwich had only 738 houses ; Exeter, 315 ; Ipswich, 538 ; Northampton, 60 ; Hertford, 146 ; Canterbury, 262 ; Bath, 64 ; South- ampton, 94 ; and Warwick, 225. These appear to have been the most considerab.'o ; the account of them is extracted from the Doomsday-book. William of Malmesbury tells us that the great distinction between the Anglo-Saxon nobility and the French or Normans was, that the latter built magnificent and stately castles ; whereas the former consumed their immense for- tunes in riotous hospitality, and in mean houses. We may thenca infer that the arts in general were much less advanced in England than in France. The lower ranks of freemen were the ceorles or hus- bandmen, employed in cultivating the farms of the nobles or thanes; for which they paid rent, chiefly in kind, and seem to have been removable at pleasure. But by far the most numerous rank appears to have been the slaves, or villains, who were the absolute property of their lords, and incapable of possessing any kind of pro- perty. Of this latter class there were two kinds amongst the Saxons — household slaves, and pra;dial, or labouring ones. The power of the master over his slave, however, was not unlimited, for if he beat his eyes or his teeth out, the latter might claim his liberty ; and if he killed him, he paid a fine to the king, provided the slave died within a day after receiving his wound. The great nobles and prelates held criminal jurisdictioa upon their possessions — a circumstance which too frequently served as a protection to evil-doers and robbers, rather than acted as a check upon them. The punishments amongst the Anglo-Saxons appear to have been exceedingly mild for some offences, since even murder might be atoned for by the payment of a fine. The laws of Alfred enjoin, that if any one know that his enemy or aggressor, after doing him an injury, resolves to SaxOD Bell. keep within his own house and his own lands, ho shall not fight him till he require compensation for the injury. If he be strong enough to besiege him in his house, he may do it for seven days without attacking him ; and if the 7.S CASSELL'S IL LUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. aggressor be willing, during that time, to surrender himself and his arms, his adversary may detain him thirty days- Iwt IS afterwards obliged to restore him safe to his kindred' and be content with the compensation. If the criminal fly to the church, that sanctuary must not be violated Wliere the assailant has not force sufficient to besiege the criminal m his house, he must apply to the alderman for assistance ■ and if the alderman refuse aid, the assailant must have | recourse to the king; and he is not allowed to assault the house till after this supreme magistrate has refused assist- ance. If any one meet with his enemy, and be ignorant that he was resolved to keep within his own lands, he must before he attack him, require him to surrender himself prisoner and deUver up his arms, in which case he may detam him thirty days; but if he refuse to deliver up his arms, it is then lawful to fight him. A slave may fight in his masters quarrel, and a father in his son's, with any one except his master. ' Ina enacted that no man should take revenge till he had first demanded compensation, and it had been refused him ivrng Edmund decreed that if a man committed a murder be may, within a year, pay the fine, with the assistance M^ ^ 'I .""f ""^ ^""''^= *>"* 'f t'^ey refuse to aid him he shaU alone sustain the feud with the kindred vi the murdered person. [a.d. 97« The ExoeutioQ of a Criminal. -From a Saxon MS. «n^!r '''.^f''t' ^ ^'^ °f Alfred, which makes wilful te^t ofT f ' ^"'/''^ '^'"^ °°'y t° ^^^^ been an at- r^^ 1 l^T^ legislator towards establishing a better pohoe m the kingdom, and probably it was not often carried .nto execution. By the laws of the same prince, a co^ »P^cy against the life of the king might bT redeemed by «;J^r'-^""!,°V''^ ^"^'' ^'^'^' "' ^ weregild-a word B^ifyirg the legal value of a„y one-was by law 30 000 thr^mas, nearly 1,300 pounds of present mley. Th pSe of the prince's head wa.s 15,000 thrismas; that of a A Saxon Calendar. fiL'rI?T°> ^'°?' ^ °'°''''«' 266- These prices wcr. ^. , . - "^ "<» ..,^^,„ tnrismas- that of . ^^.'^ ^^/^^^ '^'^ «f *!»« Angles. By the Mercian law, the TO A.O. 1066.] LAWS OF THE ANGLO-SAXONS. 7& more. By the laws of Kent, tlie price of the archbishop's Iiead was higher than that of the king. Such respect was then paid to the ecclesiastics ! It must be understood The price of all kinds of wounda waa likewise fixed by the Saxon law : a wound of an inch long under the hair, was paid with one shilling ; one of a like size in the face. At a Banquet given by Harold, Ue receives the News of the luvasiou of tUe Normans. that where a person was unable or unwilling to pay the fine, he was put out of the protection of the law, and the kindred of the deceased had liberty to punish him as they thoqght proper. two shillings ; thirty shillings for the loss of an ear ; and so forth. There seems not to have been any difference made according to the dignity of the person. By the laws of Ethelbert, any one who committed adultery with Ilia 80 o'ASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED lUSTOEY OF ENGLAND. fA.D. 978 iieighbom''s wife was obliged to pay liira a line, and buy him another Tj-ife. Jn exceedingly difficult or doubtful cases, the judges had re-jjurse to the trial by ordeal. Oue method, the decision by the cross, was practised in the following manner : — AVhen any one was accused of any crime, before he was allowed what was emphatically called the appeal to the judgment of God, he was compelled iirst to make oath of Lis innocence before the magistrates, and was attended by eleven friends, who, in some respects, were answerable for him ; they were called compurgators. He next took two pieces of wood, one of which was marked with the sign of the cross, and wrapping both up in wool, he placed them on the altar, or on some celebrated re-:ic. After solemn prayers for the success of the experi- ment, a priest — or, in his stead, some inexperienced youth — took up one of the pieces of wood, and if he fixed upon that wliioh was marked with the figure of a cross, ttie person was pro:iounced innocent ; if otherwise, guilty. This practice, as it rose from superstition, was aboUshed by it in France. The Emperor Louis the Debounaire prohibited that method of trial, not because it was uncertain, but lest that si\cred figure, says he, of the cross should be prostituted in com- mon disputes and controversies. The ordeal was another established method of trial among the Anglo-Saxons. It was practised either by boihng watiT or red-hot iron. The former was appropriated to the lommon people, the latter to the nobility. The water, or iron, was consecrated by many prayers, masses, fastings, and exorcisms ; after which the person accused either took up a stone sunk as to conceive how any innocent person could ever escape by the one trial, or any criminal be convicted by the other. But there was another i^sage admirably calculated for allowing every criminal to escape who had confidence enough to try it. A consecrated cake, called a corsned, was produced ; which, if the person could swallow and digest, he was pronounced innocent. From the general ignorance of the age, deeds and writings were exceedingly rare ; and in order to ob\nate this inconvenience, the court of the hundred was the place where most civil transactions took place, in order to pre- Berve the memory of them by having as many witnesses as possible. In the same courts slaves were manumitted, sales concluded, and sometimes, for greater security, a record of such transactions was inserted on the blank leaves of the Bible. The Saxons appear to have been exceedingly fond of dress. Ladies of rank wore necklaces, bracelets, and rings, set with precious stones. Mantles, kirtles, and gowns were also in general use ; and rouge was not unknown to them. In the men this taste for finery degenerated into effemi- nacy. They wore golden collars, and not unfrequently precious stones round the neck ; and the wealthy wore costly bracelets and rings. They had silk, linen, and ■woollen garments. Silk, from its costliness, was only used by the wealthy. The fashion of their garments of course varied. They had large mantles, which were ornamented with gold and gems ; close coats or tunics, girded with a ' belt, which Strutt represents as having been put on over ' the head like a shirt. Jlany Englishmen are not aware that the smockfrock of the husbandmen of our own day is a pure piece of Saxon costume ; and if it were well made, tightened with a broad belt, and worn by a man of good! carriage, it would form a much handsomer dress than the- unmeaning stiff-cut coats of our time. Socks and stockings, and other covering for the legs, are mentioned by Saxon writers. Their furniture was most probably heavy, rude, and 01- fashioued. Whatever invention of this kind they possessed was gained from the clergy, whose communication with Rome gave them the means of introducing many of the mechanical arts. riaxua Craiiie at Bowls. Games and exercises of strength and agility were com- mon among the Anglo-Saxons. St. Cuthbert is stated by Bede to have excelled in running, wrestling, and other athletic sports. Feats of juggling were performed by tho gleemen, who were the most important characters in the- festivals and other popular gatherings. Some of the glee- men seem to have performed tricks, gambols, and feats of all kinds, while others were harpers, or bards, and ballad- singers. The in-door sports were various, and suitable to different ranks. The games of chess and backgammon were both known, or at least games very similar to them. Back- gammon is said to have been invented in the tenth century. Hangings for rooms, to supply the defects of their coarse carpentry, were among the first of their articles of furni- ture. Benches and stools, with coverings, are mentioned as their seats. These appear to have been much orna- mented with devices of animals and flowers. Their tables were occasionally very costly, being sometimes of silver and gold, but generally of wood ; they were sometimes inlaid with gold, silver, and gems. Candlesticks of various sorts were used, as also bells, both large and small ; mirrors of silver ; beds and bed-hangings, and coverlets of bear and other skins. Their naval architecture was of the simplest kind, their vessels being of small size, propelled with a single saU, assisted by oars. The Saxons erected temples for the worship of their gods, but of what form or materials is not now known. The introduction of Christianity led immediately to the erection of churches, which at that period seem to have been built of timber. Some centuries later, under the reign of Edgar the Peaceable, architecture, as an art> TO A.P. 106G.] ACCESSION OF HAROLD. 81 received a powerful impulse from the riches whieh had accumulated in monastic establishments, and which found employment in the erection of many monasteries, cathedrals, iiid othei' edifices. o-Saxou Vessel. Gold and silver, of which our ancestors seem to have possessed a great deal, were used for cups and bowls, and other utensils, and also to adorn their sword-hilts, saddles, bridles, and banners. Their gold rings contained gems ; and even their garments, saddles, and bridles were some- times jewelled. Spices were a great luxury, and came from India through Italy. Four ounces of cinnamon were sent from one church dignitary to another as a rare present. The progress of the Anglo-Sa.Kons in the art of painting ■appears to have been very limited ; but few specimens of their illuminated books, however, remain. In one of these there is a representation of the building of the Tower of Babel, out of all rule of perspective ; the workmen being represented in the costume of the time in which the design was executed. Of their jewel work we have scarcely any specimens of consequence. One found in the island of Athelney, sup- posed to have belonged to Alfred the Great, proves, however, that the art of engraving on metals had been carried to a certain degree of excellence amongst them. Their arms consisted chiefly of the helmet, sword, spear, shield, and battle-axe — some of them singularly well designed. CHAPTER XXV. Accession of Harold — His Brother Tostig — William of Normandy sends an Embassy. When it is recollected how much England had endured from invasion and the government of foreign kings, it is little to be wondered that Harold's accession to the throne, for which he had so long prepared the way, was hailed with enthusiasm by the majority of the native nobles as well as the people. The city of London showed itself most zealous in his cause. The Saxon clergy, who recollected the intrusion of the Norman prelates into various sees at the commence- ment of the late king's reign, adopted his party ; and the great nobility, most of whom were connected with him by blood or friendship, gave him their support. The title of Edward Atheling, who was the undoubted heir of the Saxon line, was passed over in silence, and the claims of the Duke of Normandy treated with contempt. In an assembly which he had convened, Harold received tho crown, and was proclaimed on January 6th, 1066. If any — and there were doubtless some who objected to liis reigning over England — felt aggrieved at his eleva- tion, they carefully concealed their disaffection ; and the new king was crowned by Aldred, Archbishop of York, the very day after Edward the Confessor's decease. The fii-st danger which threatened the new government arose from the discontent of Tostig, who considered himself to have been unjustly treated by his brother, of wlioso accession he heard with feehngs of rage and indignation. He complained loudly to the Court of Flanders, where he was then residing, of the wrongs he had suffered, and endeavoured to arouse the anger of the count against HaroM. Not content with this, he dispatched messengers to Norway to engage the fierce and warhke people of that kingdom in his interests, pointed out the unsettled state of England in consequence of the new reign, and the wide field for plunder which it afforded. Had it been requisite to justify his having been deprived of his government and driven into exile, these last proceedings would have afforded the means of doing so. With the restless ambition and thirst for vengeance which appear to have been the characteristics of this selfish noble, he made a journey into Normandy, in the hope of exciting his brother-in-law, WiUiam, who had married his wife's sister — both daughters of Baldwin, Count of Flanders — against Harold ; his object was to counsel him to under- take the invasion of England. When William heard the news of Harold's accession, he gave way to the most violent indignation ; but not having yet matured his designs, for the event had occurred unex- pectedly, he sent an embassy to his rival, to reproach him for his perjury, and summon him instantly to resign the crown to him. To this demand the new king replied that the oath had been extorted from him by the dread of violence, and, for that reason, could not be regarded as binding upon his con- science ; and added, that at the time he took it, he had no authority, either from his predecessor or the estates of the kingdom — who alone possessed the right of disposing of the crown — to make an offer of it to the Duke of Normandy, who could not possibly possess any hereditary claims to it. He further argued that 'f he, as a private person, had eveu sworn voluntarily to support their master's pretensions, the oath would have been an unlawful one, and tlint it would have been his duty to break it ; that he had bi fir raised to the throne by the voice of the people, and sho':lV hold himself a coward if he did not do his best to maint.iiu the national liberties; and if the Duke of Norman I y should attempt, by force of arms, to wrest the crown from him, he would experience the power of a mighty nati<"i, headed by a prince who well knew the obligations imposed on him by his royal dignity, and who was resolved that the same moment should cud his life and reign. This was no otiier than tho answer which Willi.nn expected his ambassadors would bring Mm, and he .it once set about making his preparations for a descent uj'oii England ; in which he was encouraged, not more by Ids own ambition, than the personal feelings of his wiie, Matilda, whose love having been rejected by the Eng'i-li Earl of Gloucester, had caused her enmity to the entliu nation. 82 CASSELL'S ILliUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1066. William, consulting only his courage and ambition, over- looked all the difficulties inseparable from an attack on a great kingdom by such inferior force as his duchy could supply, and saw only the circumstances -n-hich would faciK- tate his enterprise. He considered that England, ever since the accession of Canute, had enjoyed profound tranquillity, during a period of nearly fifty years ; and it would require time i'or its soldiers, enervated by long peace, to learn discipline, and its generals experience. He knew that it was entirely unprovided with fortified towns, by which his rival could prolong the war ; but must venture its whole fortune in one decisive action against a veteran enemy, which, being once master of the field, would be in a condition to overrun the kingdom. He saw that Harold, though he had given proofs of vigour and bravery, had newly mounted a throne which he had acquired by faction, from which he had excluded a very ancient royal family, and which was likely to totter under him by its own instability, much more if shaken by any violent external impulse ; and he hoped that the very circumstance of his crossing the sea, quitting his own country, and leaving himself no hopes of retreati as it would astonish the enemy by the boldness of the enter- prise, would impel his own soldiers, by a feeling of despera- tion, to unheard-of feats of arms. The Normans had long been distinguished for courage amongst all European nations. Besides the noble territory they had acquired in France, they had lately added to their }^o3sessions by remarkable successes in a distant part of liurope. A few Norman adventurers in Italy had van- quished, not only ipe Italians and Greeks, but the Germans and Saracens, and laid the foundation of the two kingdoms of Naples and Sicily. The success of these men, most of them his vassals, increased the pride of William, who felt anxious to emulate their glory. The enterprise was a gigantic one, and could not be undertaken without an immense outlay, far exceeding WilUam's means. Before convoking the assembly of his states, he held a secret council with his immediate friends, amongst whom were Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, and the Count de Mortain, his two half-brothers ; with them were the son of Osbert, Seneschal of Normandy, Robert, Count d'Eu, Roger de Montgomery, Gautief Guiffort, Count de Longueville, and Roger de Vielles, Lord of Bellemont, who all promised to risk their lives and fortunes to assist him in his enterprise. He was far from finding, however, the same disposition in the general assembly of the states ; many of the members of which, instead of voting the subsidies required, com- plained of the enormous imposts already levied. The deputies whom the states nominated to bear their answer to their sovereign, instanced that although they were his subjects, they were not bound to as-sist him in obtaining possession of the kingdom of a foreign prince who had inflicted no injury upon Normandy. They knew the character of William, and foresaw, if once they yielded to his demands, and followed him beyond sea, a precedent would be drawn for the future. The duke dissimulated his anger and mortification, and had recourse to an expedient which proved his tact to have been equal to his courage. He sent for the principal mem- bers of the states individually, was prodisral of promises, and gradually won them over, none singly venturing on .•a^ opposition which they had not hesitated to offer col- lectively. Neither did he neglect other means. He well knew the superstitious of the age would consider the oath which Harold had taken on the relics as doubly sacred. Had it been simply on the Gospels, the breach of it might have been thought less of. He carried his cause to Rome, where the celebrated Lanfranc, who afterwards became Archbishop of Canterbury, and Robert of Jumiege, whom Harold's father, Earl Goodwin, had caused to be expelled from the primacy in England, pleaded his cause effectually, and ably sustained his pretensions in a consistory held at the Lateran, where it was finally decided that AVilliam of Nor- mandy, being related to the late King Edward, and long reputed his heir, might with justice assume the title of King of England, and invade the kingdom. Here it may not be amiss to notice the influences which led to this decision. The Court of Rome, ever zealous of its authority, had witnessed with dissatisfaction the expul- sion of the Norman archbishop from the see of Canterbury by the secular authority, and the elevation of Stigand in his place. The refusal of Harold to pay the tax known as Peter's pence, and the violation of his oath, were in the eyes of the consistory heinous crimes. The Saxon king had, moreover, shown great disrespect in not sub- mitting his cause to their decision, as his rival had the prudence to do. But the most powerful enemy of Harold in the councils of Pope Alexander II., in whose pontificate this cele- brated cause was pleaded, was the celebrated monk Hilde- brand, who afterwards, as Gregory VII., carried the Papal power to such a height. He maintained that the Pontiff alone had the right to decide the question, and pronounce on all disputes touching the inheritance of the kingdoms of the world — a doctrine too palatable to be rejected, enforced as it was by all the fiery eloquence and influence of an enthusiast. The solemn decision of Alexander II. was transmitted to the Duke of Normandy in the form of a bull. The holy father, at the same time, sent him, in token of his paternal regard, a hair of St. Peter in a rich ring, and a banner, with the figure of the apostle, which was to guarantee him against defeat. On receiving these welcome gifts, William at once pro- claimed his appeal to arms, and promised to aU who would join him a share in the spoils of the kingdom he had under- taken to conquer. French, Britons, Burgundians, and adventurers from almost every country in Europe flocked to his standard, allured by these tempting oS'ers. Some had the modesty to demand a city, others a castle, as the price of their arms ; and the duke appears to have been as extravagant in his promises as his new allies were in their expectations. From all parts he gathered the immense material neces- sary for his enterprise, and assembled a great number of workmen to construct the vessels destined to carry himself and his army over. Nothing was neglected wliich might contribute to his conquest ; and, in order to secure hia dominions during his absence, he so far subdued his pride as to remember the homage which he owed to the King of France, Philip I., and solicit aid, promising that if he succeeded in his enterprise against England, he would hold it as a fief of the crown of France. THE NORMAN INVASION. S5 AVilliam was already too powerful a vassal, and his over- tares were rejected from policy. Nothing daunted, he next addressed himself to his father-in-law, the Count of Flanders, for assistance. Baldwin listened to him, and helped him to the utmost of his power. In the midst of these warlike preparations, the Duke of Normandy received a message from Conan II., Duke of Brittany, demanding that he should resign his states to hira, as the legitimate heir of Rollo. Conan died shortly after- wards by poison; and his successor, with far more prudence, not only abandoned the claim, but sent his two sons with troops and offers of service to AVilliam. Whether guilty or not, William was accused of the murder of Conan. Guillaume de Jumicge asserts that one of his chamberlains, bribed by the Duke of Normandy, rubbed a subtle poison on the hunting-horn of the unfortunate prince, on the reins of his horse, and on his gloves ; and that Conan, after having worn the latter, raised his hands to his lips, and died shortly afterwards. In the middle of August, 1006, the Duke of Normandy had collected and built upwards of 900 large vessels, without counting those destined to serve as means of transport, and counted under his command 50,000 horsemen and 10,000 foot soldiers, of various nations. He named, as general rendezvous, the mouth of the Dive, where his fleet had for some time been detained by unfavourable weather. The unfortunate Harold saw himself menaced by the danger of a double invasion — one from William, and the other from the King of Norway. A third enemy threatened his repose, in the person of his own brother, Tostig, who, impatient to avenge his real or pretended injuries, could not wait the arrival of the Norwegian fleet ; but gathering an army and sixty vessels in the ports of Flanders, set sail, and attempted to effect a landing in the south of England. Driven back by Saxon ships, he directed his forces to the Humber, where he was defeated by Earl Edwin, who obliged him to retreat. Tostig took refuge in Scotland, after escaping with only twelve of his vessels, there to await the arrival of his aDy, the King of Norway, who made his appearance off the Enghsh coast early in August, 1066, with a fleet of 300 sail, and a formidable army. Tostig joined him with the wreck of his armament ; and they sailed up the Humber, took Scarborough, and then directed their march upon York, the capital of the province of Northumbria. Morcar and his brother Edwin hastened to the defence ; but, being defeated, were obliged to shut themselves within the walls of the city, which the Norwegians immediately besieged. Negotiations were opened, and a day named for deUvering York to the enemy. Harold, who was engaged in watching the movements of WilHam in the western part of the kingdom, no sooner heard of the arrival of his brother and the Norwegians, than he marched rapidly towards the north with all his forces. The King of Norway, who had divided his army, leaving a portion of it under the command of his son Olave, was advancing with the other to take possession of York, when he suddenly perceived, near Stanford bridge, the approach of the Saxons, whp, by a long and forced march, were hastening to relieve the city. The Norwegians were taken by surprise by their adversaries. Ilardrada, their king, sent to his son for succour, and proceeded to range hLs soldiers in line of battle ; then, riding along the ranks, mounted upon his black charger, he animated his men, by singing their na- tional war-songs. Anxious as Harold must have felt from being threatened by two enemies, he showed no unmanly fear. It is true lia made offers to his brother, in an interview which took place between them, of restoring him to aU his honours and pos- sessions, if he would lay down his arms, wtiich Tostig at first seemed disposed to do. " And what will you give my ally, the ICing of Norway ? " demanded the traitor. " Six feet of earth," was the courageous reply of Harold. " Or, stay," he added, with a bitter smile: "as Hardrada is a giant, he shall have seven." This answer broke off all further negotiation, and the signal for battle was given. The Norwegians received, without giving way, the first shock of the Saxon cavalry; but the second shook their ranks. At this critical juncture, Hardrada, their king, fell from his horse, his neck pierced by an arrow ; which Lis army perceiving, they were about to give way, when his son Olave arrived with fresh troops. Once more the battle* raged furiously ; but nothing could resist the determined valour of the Saxons, who, led by their king, charged theni with terrible impetuosity. Tostig and the principal leaders were slain, and the victory remained with Harold. The conqueror showed himself no less liumane than brave. Instead of putting the young Norwegian, Prinoo Olave, who had fallen into his power, to death, he gave hi:ii his liberty, and suffered him to depart, with twelve vessels, for his native country, where he afterwards reigned in con- junction with his brother Magnus. William of Blalmesbury relates that Harold offended a portion of his army by refusing them their share of thi plunder, and that many, in consequence, abandoned his standard. If so, the error was bitterly expiated. CHAPTER XXVI. Landing of the Normans — The Battle of Hastings — Death of Harold — Accession of William. Immediatkly after his victory, Harold directed his march to York, which city he entered in triumph, being hailed hy the inhabitants as their deliverer from an enemy whom thi y had so many causes both to fear and hate. Here the king intended to remain for some time, not only'to recruit his army, but to give himself an opportunity of getting cured of a wound he had received in the late battle. The joy of victory was destined, however, to receive a speedy check, for whilst Harold was at a banquet with his thanes and captains, a messenger arrived with the intelli- gence that the Normans had landed at Pevensey, on Sep- tember i'Oth. The king, nothing daunted, gave orders for his march at an early hour the following day. The Norman fleet had been assembled, as we have al- ready related, in the summer at the mouth of the river Dive, and all the troeps embarked ; but the vrinds proved loBg contrary, and detained them in that harbour. The authority, however, of the duke, the good discipline main- tained among the seamen and soldiers, and the great care in supplying them with provisions, had prevented any 84 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOKY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1066. disorder. At last the wind became favourable, ana enabled them to sail along the coast, till they reached St. Valari. There were, however, several vessels lost in this short passage ; and as the wind again proved contrary, the army began to imagine that Heaven had declared against them, and that, notwithstanding the Pope's benediction, they were destined to certain destruction. These bold warriors, wha despised real dangers, were very subject to the dread of imaginary ones ; and many of them began to mutiny, some of them even to desert their colours ; when the dute, in order to support their drooping hopes, ordered a proceBsiuu to be made with the relics of St. Valari, and barked. The duke himself, as he leaped on shore, happened to stumble and fall ; but had the presence of mind, it ia said, to turn the omen to his advantage, by declaring aloud that he had takeu possession of the country ; and a soldier, running to a neighbouriDg cottage, plucked a handful ot thatch, and brought it to bis leader. "What is this?" demanded William, for the moment not comprehending the meaning of the man. "Seizin," was the reply. It was received with a loud shout by the army — seizin being the act by which, according to the feudal laws, a tenant paid homage to his sovereign for his fief. Buins of Hastings Castle. prayers to be said for more favourable weather. The wind instantly changed ; and as this incident happened on the eve of the feast of St. Michael, the tutelar saint of Nor- mandy, the soldiers, fancying they saw the hand of Heaven in all these concurring circumstances, set out with the greatest alacrity. They met with no opposition on their pa.s.sage. A great fleet, which Harold had assembled, and which had cruised all the summer off the Isle of Wight, had been dismissed on his receiving false intelligence that Wil- liam, discouraged by contrary winds and other accidents, had laid aside his preparations. Tlie Norman armament, proceeding in great order, arrived, without any material ItHSB, at Pevensey, in Sussex, and the array quietly disem- The joy and alacrity of the duke and his soldiers were so great, that even the intelligence of Harold's victory over the Norwegians, and the death of Tostig, did not dismay them ; they seemed rather to entertain greater confidence in a speedy conquest. The victory of Harold, though great and honourable, had proved in the main prejudicial to his interests, and may be regarded as the immediate cause of his ruin. He lost many of his bravest officers and soldiers in the action ; and he disgusted the rest by refusing to distribute the Norwegian spoils among them — a conduct which was little agreeable to his usual generosity of temper, but which his desire of sparing the people, in the war that impended over him from 4 '.'. 1006. THE BATTLE Ot' HASTINGS. 85 Death of Harold at the Battle of Hasting 86 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF EJTGLAND. [a.d. lOGG, the Duke of Normandy, had probably occasioned. He nastened, by quick marches, to reach this new invader ; but though he was reinforced at London and other places with fresh troops, he found himself also weakened by the deser- tion of his old soldiers, who, from fatigue and discontent, eeoretly withdrew from their colours. His brother Gurth, a man of no less bravery and of more discretion than Harold, urged upon him that it would be better policy to prolong the war, or, at all events, for the king not to expose himself in the battle. To these remonstrances Harold, flushed with the pride of recent victory, and listening only to his natural courage, turned a decided refusal. He was resolved, he said, to show to the nation who had elected him that he was worthy of their choice, and knew how to defend the crown he had won. With this intention he gave orders to advance to meet the Normans, who by this time had removed their camp to Hastings, where they had erected fortifications. So confident did the English monarch feel of success, that he sent a messenger to William, offering liim a sum of money to quit the kingdom ; not that, he said, he feared him, or aught that he and his army could do; but simply to avoid the effusion of blood, and spare the lives of their followers on either side. The offer was rejected with disdain. The Duke of Normandy possessed a courage as ardent as, and an ambition equal to, his own ; added to which he was further excited by the personal hatred he bore to Harold, whose oath to assist William to the English throne and marry his daughter had been broken on both points. Not to appear behindhand with his enemy in boasting, William despatched a counter proposition by a monk of Fescamp, named Hugues Margot, whose office secured him against any violence at the hands of the incensed Saxons. He haughtily called upon Harold either to resign his crown, hold it in fealty to him, submit their difterence to the arbi- tration of the Pope, or decide their claims in single combat. To this, Harold replied that the God of battles would soon decide between them. Both parties now prepared for the contest which was to decide the possession of the kingdom ; and the manner in which the night preceding the battle was passed, ia either camp, illustrated the character of the two nations. The Saxons spent the hours in rioting and feasting, song and wassail ; the Normans in silence and prayer. On the morning of the 14th of October, 1066, the Duke of Normandy called to his tent the principal leaders and officers of his army, and addressed to them a discourse suited to the occasion. He represented to them that the event which they and he had so long looked forward to was at hand, and that the fortune of the war now hung upon their swords ; that a single action, in all probability, would decide it ; that never krmy had greater motives for exerting a vigorous courage, whether they considered the prize that would attend their Tictory, or the inevitable destruction which must ensue in the event of their being discomfited ; that if their veteran bands could once break the lines of the raw soldiers who had rashly dared to approach them, they could conquer a kingdom at one blow, and be justly entitled to the possession of it as the reward of their valour. On the contrary, he pointed out the result in the event of a defeat — an enraged and merciless enemy in their rear, the sea to bar their retreat, and an ignominious death as the reward of their cowardice. " By collecting so numerous and brave a host," he added, " I have done all that is possible, humanly speaking, to ensure conquest ; and the sacrilegious conduct of Harold, in breaking his oath to me, gives me just reason to believe that Heaven, and the saints who are witnes-ses to his perjury, will smile upon my endeavours." This address was received with loud cheers ; the duke commanded the signal to be given, and the entire army advanced, singing, according to Wilham of Malmesbury, the war song, or hymn of Roland. Harold, in the meanwhile, had not been idle, but had taken advantage of some rising ground to post his army, and dug trenches to secure his plans ; it being his intention to stand on the defensive, and avoid, if possible, all action with the enemy's cavalry, to which his own was inferior. The Kentish men he placed in the van — a post they claimed as their right ; whilst the king himself, accompanied by his two valiant brothers, Gurth and Leofwin, dismounting, placed himself at the head of the infantry, and expressed his resolution to conquer or to perish in the action. The first attack of the Normans was desperate, but was received with equal firmness by the English ; and after a furious combat, the assailants, overcome by the difficulty of the ground, and hard pressed by the enemy, began first to relax their vigour, then to retreat ; and confusion was spreading among the ranks, wlien William, who found himself on the brink of destruction, hastened with a select band to the relief of his dismayed forces. His presence revived their courage ; the English were obliged to retire with loss ; and the duke, ordering his second line to advance, renewed the attack with fresh forces and with redoubled vigour. Finding that the enemy, aided by the advantage of ground, and animated by the example of their prince, still made an obstinate resistance, he tried a stratagem, which was very delicate in its management, but which seemed advisable in his desperate situation, where, if he gained not a decisive victory, he was totally undone. He commanded his troops to make a hasty retreat, and to allure the enemy from their ground by the appearance of flight. The artifice succeeded; and the Enghsh, heated by the action, and sanguine in their hopes of victory, followed the Normans into the plain. William gave orders that at once the infantry should face about on their pursuers, and the cavalry make an assault on their wings ; and both of them pursue the advantage which the surprise and terror of the enemy must give them in that critical moment. The English were repulsed with great slaujjhter, and driven back to the hill, where, being rallied by the bravery of Harold, they were able, notwithstanding their loss, to maintain their ground and continue the combat. The duke tried the same stratagem a second time with the same success ; but, even after this double advantage, he stQl found a great body of the English, who, maintaining themselves in firm array, deter- mined to dispute the battle to the last extremity. He ordered his heavy-armed infantry to make an assault on them ; while h*is archers, placed behind, should gall those who were exposed by tlie situation of the ground, or who were intent on defending themselves against the swords and spears of the assailants. By this disposition he at last prevailed : Harold was slain by an arrow, while he was A.D. 1066.] THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS. 87 combating with great iravery at the head of his men, and his two brothers shared his fate. ..,.,. j The EngUsh, dismayed by the fall of their king, and haviiig no one to lead them, gave way, and were Pursued by sunset, and which, from the valour displayed by both armies and their leaders, was worthy to decide the contest for a crown. William, in the course of the battle, had three horses killed under him, and lost nearly fifteen thousand The Norman Thanksgiving after the Battle of Hastings, the victorious Normans with great slaughter, till night put of his ^oUowers. Jhe ^^/^^^'J:'^ Z.'^Z an end to the horrors of the scene. Thus did William of Normandy gam the great and de- risive battle of Ha.stings, which lasted from sunrise to '"^The d'arkness of the night, however, saved a good part CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND, [a.d. 1065. of the English army, who retreated under the conduct of Morcar and Edwin. These two thanes, -who had firmly adhered to Harold, se'iing he was slain, as well as Gurth and Leofwin, his brothers, submitted at length to circumstances, and retreated, having given undoubted proofs of valour during the day. William, at the height of his wishes, gave orders for the whole army to fall on their knees, and return God thanks for so signal a victory ; after which he caused his tent to be pitched in the field of battle, and spent the residue of the night among the slain. Nor less perhaps in gratitude for the past, than in the hope that such a work would pro- cure him heavenly favour for the future, he solemnly vowed that he would erect a splendid abbey on the scene of this his first victory ; and when this vow was accomplished, the altar of the abbey church stood on the spot where the standard of Harold had been planted. The holy house thus founded was called Battle Abbey (see page 96). On the morrow, he ordered his own dead to be buried, and gave the English peasants leave to do the same office for the others ; and the bodies of the king and his brothers being found, he sent them to Githa, their mother, who gave them as honourable a burial as the circumstances of the time would permit, in Waltham Abbey, founded by Harold before he was king. Most of the English historians say that the body was given to his mother without ransom. An ancient manuscript in the Cottonian library, apparently written at Waltham Abbey about a hundred years after t)ie battle, relates that two monks were deputed by William to search for the body of the king. Unable to distinguish it among tlie nameless dead by which it w4s surrounded, they sent for Harold's mistress, Editha, called " tbe swan-necked," whose eye of affection was not to be deceived. There is a story related by Giraklus Cambrensis, that Harold, after receiving his wound, escaped from the field, and lived several years an anchorite in a cell near St. Johu's Church, in Chester. This account is, however, in the highest degree improbable, and there is no reason to doubt that the last of the Saxon kings died a soldier's death on the field of Hastings. CHAPTER XXVH. William I., Suniameii tlie Conqueror. Great as were the disasters of Hastings, the English were still in a position to offer a powerful resistance, had they been united and firm. The population of London took up arms, and were still further strengthened by the arrival of the Earls Edwin and Jlorcar within their walls, witli the remains of the routed army. An assembly of the nobles was convened, in which, as the brothers of Harold were both slain, and his sons too young to govern, Edgar Atheling, the grand-nephew of Edward the Confessor, the only descendant of Cerdic, was proclaimed king, chiefly through the influence of the primate Stigand, ai»d Aldred, the Archbishop of York. Although dear to the people on account of his birth, Edgar possessed no one quality necessary for the crisis which menaced his kingdom. So weak was his character, that it would have been diflicult for him, under tlie most favourable circumstances, to liave maintained himself upon the throne ; and he was totiUly unfitted to cope with an adversary, who was not only the most warlike, but one of the ablest princes of his tima. W'Uiam remained for some days quietly at Hastings after his victory, not doubting but iue terrified inhabitant) of London would send a deputation to his camp with offers of submission. Some writers have contended that he was detained by a violent dissension which broke out amongst the soldiers. This inactivity, however, was but of short duration. Finding that no one came to him with offers from the English, and learning that several vessels which his wife Matilda had sent to him with reinforcements from Normandy had been attacked and driven from the coast at Romney, the duke felt that it was time to act, but tempered his ardour with prudence. His first care was to assure his communications with the continent, and establish a post to which he could retreat in case of a reverse. With this intention, he fol- lowed with his army the line of coast between Hastings and Dover, stopping by the way at Romney, which he pillaged and burnt. The garrison of Dover Castle, a fortress at that time deemed impregnable, yielded without a blow, vanquished by the terror of his name; and was replaced by a force of Normans. Here William remained till he received fresh troops and supplies from Normandy ; after which, he ad- vanced with the flower of his army to London. Finding the approaches to the city well defended, the Conqueror made no attempt to carry it by assault, but dispersed his troops in the neighbourhood, with orders to burn and plunder the villages, and to intercept all supplies to the capital. The two earls, Morcar and Edwin — refusing to yield obedience to the phantom of a king, which the ambitious prelates, who hoped to govern in his name, had caused to be elected — had retired to their respective governments. After their departure the mihtary authority fell into the hands of Ansgar, who filled the office of esquire to tlie new king. Although deprived of the use of his limbs, he caused himself to be borne on his litter to every point of the city, examined the defences, and exercised the utmost vigilance and zeal for the general safety. William, who had his spies within the walls, was soon aware of the credit of Ansgar with the people and his influence in the council of the nation, and sent a messenger to him, with secret offers, to bribe him to the Norman interests. " My master," said the emissary, " merely demands the title of king — he will leave you to govern the kingdom in his name." Ansgar neither accepted nor rejected these advances, but kept them a secrut from the council, whom he persuaded to send au envoy to the duke to sound his intentions No prince of his day equalled William either in ability or dissimulation ; he quickly penetrated the designs of the messenger, whom he seduced, by magnificent promises and protestations. On his return to the council, the envoy kept his promise to plead the cause of the duke. William, he proclaimed aloud, had not his equal, cither in wisdom or courage, amongst the princes of the age : " in the first, he exceeds Solomon ; and in the latter, Charlemagne : he demands your suftVages, that you confirm the donation of the king- dom made to him by Edward. The general safety depends upon submission." A.ii. 1066.] CORONATION OF W^LLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 89 Thes» words, by wbich the Duke of Normandy let it be understood that he would rather hold the crowu by the lecitimate title of a general consent than by the right of conquest, were not without the effect he anticipated, both on the nobles and people, who unanimously withdrew their allegiance from the feeble Edgar, and resolved to take he oath of fidelity U> a new sovereign in the camp of the Hormans. , ^ . Th3 private Stigand was the first who wont over to Christmas-day was the one fixed for the coronation of the new king, and the church of Westminster the place ap- pointed r but before trusting himself within the walls oi Loudon, the wily Norman caused some of the stroni;est entrenchments to be destroyed, and commenced strengthen injr, if he did not lay the foundation of, the fortress whioh has since grown into the Tower of London. William decided on reeeiving the crown from the hands of AldroJ, Archbishop of Yorkvand that the ceremony should William the Conqueror. William, whom he encountered at Wallingford, and who received him with hollow marks of affection and respect, addressing him by the titles of archbishop and father in exchange for those of king and son. The example of Stigand was quickly followed by his brother of York, and the principal nobles and prelates who had assembled in London. The degenerate Edgar Atheling himself came and re- signed the crown he had so lately received into the hands of the Conqueror. William received it with affected modesty, invited the barons to express their wishes, and, in finally ascending the throne made it appear that he did so in obedience to their desire. take place with tbe same formalities which marked the acises- sion of the Saxon kings. A serious tumult took place during the ceremony. When the archbishop demanded of the assembled nobles whether they would have William for their king, the reply was given with acclamations so loud as to startle the Noruian soldiers stationed outside the church. Supposing that an attack was being made upon their duke, the troops rushed to the English houses adjoming the abbey, and set them on fire. Both Norman and Saxon nobles rushed from the sacred edifice, leaving their new sovereign and a few churchmen alone witliin the walls. Recovering his self-possession, 90 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLANTD. [A.D. 1065. vVilliam commanded that the ceremony should be con- cluded ; and in the midst of the cries of his new sub- jects, who were being massacred on all sides, the flames of the burning houses, the pillage and devastation, he took the oath to govern according to the laws of the kings his predecessors. Directly after his coronation, William, not deeming him- self in perfect safety in London, whose inhabitants bitterly resented the outrage they had been subjected to, removed to Barking, where he received the homage of many of the great nobility, churchmen, and thanes. He introduced into England that strict execution of justice for which his administration had been much cele- brated in Normandy; and even during this violent revolu- tion, disorder and oppression met with rigorous punishment. Ilia army in particular was governed with severe discipline ,• and, notwithstanding the iusolence of victory, care was taken to give as little oirence as possible to the jealousy of the vanquished. The king appeared solicitous to unite, in an amicable manner, the Normans and the English, by intermarriages and alliances ; and all his new subjects who approached his person were received with affability and Finding the body of Harold, The conduct of William at this period appears to bave j been most prudent ; he respected the rights of his new sub- | jects and the laws of property, though it was impossible for him to restrain the rapacious disposition of his followers, j The treasures of Harold and the donations of the nobility, which were supposed to be voluntary, furnished the first largess, which he distributed amongst his companions in arms. Ho granted at least nominal privileges to the citizens of London, in the hope of reconciling thorn to his govern- ment, and took strong measures to secure the future tran- quillity of the capital. It is true that he disarmed the inhabitants; but at the same time, in order to establish a favourable impression of his justice, he punished with rigour various acts of outrage that had been committ"d. apparent regard. No signs of suspicion appeared, not even towards Edgar Atheling, the heir of the ancient r.iyal family, whom William confirmed in the honours of Earl of Oxford, conferred oa him by Harold, and whom he affected to treat with the liighost kindness, as nephew to the Con- fessor, his great friend and benefactor. Though he confis- cated the estates of Harold, and of those who liad fought in the battle of Hustings on the side of that prince, wliom ho represented as a usurper, ho seemed willing to admit of every plausible excuse for past opposition to his preten- sions, and received many into favour who had carried arms against him. William set sail from England in tho mouth of May, 10G7, to return to Normandy, accompanied by the most iOGZ WILLIAM RETURNS TO VISIT NORMANDY. 01 considerable nobility of England, who, while they served to grace his court by their presence and maguificeut retinues, were in reality hostages for the fidelity of the nation. Among the.se were Edgar Atheling, Stigand the primate, the Earls Edwin and Morcar, Waltheof, the son of the l)rave Earl Siward, with others eminent for the greatness of their fortunes and families, or for their ecclesia-stical which struck the foreigners with astonishment. William of Poictiers, a Norman historian, who was present, speaks with a. 1071.) Hereward, however, contrived to escape, by cutting his way, sword in hand, through the enemy, and carried on the war by sea against the Normans with such success, that William was glad to compromise with him, by giving him back his estate and honours. The memory of Hereward, " England's darling," as he was called by his countrymen, long remained cherished in their ClifforJ's Tower, York, built by William the Conrjueror. tongue ; and with that view he commanded that in all the cchools throughout the country the youth should be in- structed in French, which also became the language of the courts of law. Moved at last by the representations of some Lif the prelates, and the entreaties of his subjects, he con- tented to restore some of the laws of Edward the Confessor, which, although of no great importance, were regarded with affection by the people, as memorials of their ancient liberty. The position of the two Earls Morcar and Edwin soon became intolerable ; for, notwithstanding that they had stood aloof during the last insurrection of their countrymen, and maintained their allegiance, William treated them with indignity ; and the hungry adventurers who surrounded his court, while they envied the possessions of the Saxon nobles, thought themselves entitled to treat them with contempt as slaves and barbarians. Sensible that with the loss of their dignity they had no longer any hops of safety, they determined, though too late, hearts, and the exploits of the last hero of Anglo-Saxon independence were for many years a favourite theme of tradition and poetry. Morcar and Egelwin, Bishop of Durham, who had joined the insurgents, were taken and thrown into pri;on, where the last-named personage soon afterwards died of grief, whilst Edwiu was slain in an attempt to escape into Scotland. The King of Scotland, in hopes of profiting by these convulsions, had fallen on the northern counties, but on the approach of William he retired ; and when JIalcolm re- entered his country he was glad to make peace, and to pay the usual homage to the English crown. To complete the Norman king's prosperity, Ivlgar Atheling himself, despair- ing of the success of hia cause, and weary of a fugitive life, submitted to his enemy ; and receiving a decent pension for his subsistence, was permitted to live in England unmolested. But these acts of generosity towards the leaders were con- trasted, as usual, by William's rigour against the inferior malcontents. He ordered the hands to be lopped off, and 100 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1074 the eye? to be put out, of many of the prisoners whom he Bad taken in the Isle of Ely, and he dispersed them in that miserable condition throughout the country as monuments of his severity. Herbert, the last count or chief of the province of Maine, bordering on Normandy, had bequeathed his lands to "William, who had taken possession of them several years before the invasion of England. In 1073, the people of Jlaine, instigated by Fulk, Count of Anjou, rose in rebel- lion against "William, and expelled the magistrates he had placed over them. The settled aspect of affairs in England afforded him leisure to punish this insult to his authority ; but being unwilling to remove his Norman forces from the island, he carried over a considerable army, composed almost entirely of English ; and joining them to some troops levied in Normandy, he entered the revolted province. The national valour, which had been so long opposed to him, was now exerted in his favour. Signal success at- tended the expedition. The men of Maine were beaten by •the English, many towns and villages were destroyed, and the inhabitants tendered their submission to the Conqueror. But during these transactions (107-t) the government of England was greatly disturbed, and that too by those very foreigners who owed everything to the king's bounty, and whose rapacious disposition he had tried in vain to satisfy. The Norman barons who had engaged with their duke in the conquest of England were men of independent spirit and strong will ; and however implicit the obedience which they yielded to their lender in the field, it is possible that in more peaceful times they foimd it difficult to brook the imperious character and overbearing temper of the king. The habit of absolute government into which William had fallen since his mastery over the English, had fre- quently led him to exercise an authority over the Normans themselves which they were ill disposed to bear. The discontent became general. Roger, Earl of Hereford, the son and heir of Fitz-Osborn, so long the intimate friend and counsellor of the king, had negotiated the marriage of his sister with Ralph de Gael, Earl of Norfolk. For some reason, now unknown, the alliance was displeasing to the king, who sent from Normandy to forbid it. The two earls, despite the prohibition, proceeded to solemnise the union ; and, foreseeing the resentment of "William, pre- pared for a revolt. It was during the festivities of the nuptials that they broached their design to their numerous friends and allies assembled on the occasion, by complaining of the tyranny of the king ; his oppressive conduct to the unfortunate English, whom they affected to pity ; his insolence to men of noble birth ; and the indignity of submitting any longer to be governed by a prince of illegitimate birth. All present, inflamed with resentment, shared in the indigna- tion of the speakers, and a solemn compact was entered into to shake off the royal yoke. Even Earl Waltheof, who was present, expressed his approval of the conopiracy, and promised to assist it. This noble was the last of the English who possessed any great power or influence in the kingdom. After his capitu- lation at York, he was received into fa-vour by the Con- queror ; had even married Judith, his niece ; and had been promoted to the earldoms of Huntingdon and Northampton. Cospatrick, Earl of Northumberland, having, on some new disgust from "Wilham, retired into Scotland — where he received the earldom of Dunbar from the bounty of Mal- colm — Waltheof was appointed his successor in that im- portant command, and seemed still to possess the confidence and friendship of his sovereign ; but as he was a man of generous principles, and loved his country, it is probable that the tyranny exercised over the English lay heavy on his mind, and destroyed all the satisfaction which he could reap from his own grandeur and advancement. "When a prospect, therefore, was opened of retrieving their liberty, he hastily embraced it, while the fumes of the liquor and the ardour of the company prevented him from reflecting on the consequences of that rash attempt; but after his cool judgment returned, he foresaw that the conspiracy of those discontented barons was not likely to prove successful against the estabhshed power of William ; or, if it did, that the slavery of the English, instead of being alleviated by that event, would become more grievous under a multitude of foreign leaders, factious and ambitious, whose union or discord would be equally oppressive. Tormented with these reflections, he disclosed the plans of the conspirators to his wife Judith, of whose fidelity he entertained no suspicion ; but who, having secretly fixed her affections on a Norman nobleman, took this opportunity of ruining her confiding husband. She conveyed inteUigence of the conspiracy to the king, and aggravated every circumstance which she believed would tend to incense him against Waltheof, and render him absolutely implacable. Mean- while the earl, still dubious with regard to the part wliich he should act, discovered the secret in confession to Lanfranc, on whose probity and judgment he had a great reliance. He was persuaded by that prelate tliat he owed no fidelity to those rebellious barons, who had by surprise gained his consent to a crime; that his first duty was to his sovereign and benefactor, his next to him- self and his family ; and that, if he seized not the oppor- tunity of making atonement for his guilt by revealing it, the temerity of the conspirators was so great, that they might give some other person the means of acquiring the merit of the discovery. Waltheof, convinced by these arguments, went at once to Normandy, where Wilham was then residing, and confessed everything to the king, who, dissembling his resentment, thanked him for his loyalty and love ; but in his heart he gave the earl no thanks for a confidence which came so late. The conspirators, hearing of Waltheofis departure from England, concluded at once that they were betrayed, and instantly assembled in arms, before their plans were ripe for execution, and before the arrival of the Danes, with whom they had secretly entered into an aUiance. The Earl of Hereford was defeated by Walter de Lacy, who, supported by the Bishop of AVorcester and the Abbot of Evesham, prevented his passing the Severn, and penetrating into the heart of the kingdom. The Earl of Norfolk was defeated by Odo, the ivarlike Bishop of Bayeux, who sulUed his victory by commanding the right foot of his prisoners to be cut off as a punishment for their treason. Their leader escaped to Norwich, and from thence to Denmark. William, on his arrival in England, found that he had nothing left to do but punish the instigators and leaders of the revolt, which he did with great rigour. Many were hanged ; some had their eyes put out ; others their hands TO A.D. 1078.] MURDER OP THE BISHOP OF DURHAM. 101 cut off, or were otherwise Lorribly mutilated. The only indulgence he showed was to the Earl of Hereford, who was oondemned to lose his estate, and to be kept a prisoner during pleasure. The king appeared willing to remit the last part of the sentence, probably from the recollection of his father's services, and the dread of increasing the discontent of the Norman barons; but the haughty and unbending spirit of the earl provoked William to extend the sentence to a perpetual confinement. Waltheof, being an Englishman, was not treated with so much humanity ; though his guilt, always much inferior to that of the other conspirators, was atoned for by an early repentance. William, instigated by his niece Judith, as well as by his rapacious courtiers, who longed for the forfeiture of so rich an estate, ordered the thane to be tried, condemned, and executed. The English, who considered AValtheof as the last hope of their nation, grievously lamented his fate, and fancied that miracles were wrought by his rehcs, as a testimony of his innocence and sanctity. The infamous Judith, falling soon afterwards under the king's displeasure, was abandoned by all the world, and passed the rest of her life in contempt, remorse, and misery. Nothing remained to complete William's satisfaction but the punishment of Ralph de Gael, and he hastened over to Normandy in order to gratify his vengeance on that criminal ; but though the contest seemed very unequal between a private nobleman and the ICing of England, Ralph was so well supported both by the Earl of Brittany and the King of France, that William, after besieging him for some time in Del, was obliged to abandon the enterprise, and malve with those powerful princes a peace, in which Ralph himself was included. England, during his absence, remained in tranquillity, and nothing remarkable occurred, except two ecclesiastical synods, which were summoned, one at London, another at Winchester. In one of these the pre- cedency among the episcopal sees was settled, and the seat of some of them was removed from small villages to the most considerable town within the diocese. CHAPTER XXXI. Insurrection at Durham— Deatli of tlie Bi3hop — Expedition of William against Scotlami— Invasion and Retreat of tlie Danes. William to the end of his reign no longer had any serious difficulties to contend with from the Saxons, the national spirit being broken and subdued beneath his iron yoke. The conspiracies which ensued were now those of the Normans, and the partial insurrections that took place were instigated chiefly by private vengeance against some local oppressor. In one of these insurrections perished AValcher, Bishop of Durham, a prelate originally from Lorraine, and elevated by the new king to the see of St. Cuthbert. Historians who have written of this remarkable man agree in describing him as no less distinguished for his attain- ments than the excellence of his moral character : he was good but feeble, and lacked the energy necessary to restrain the evil-doers in the troublesome times in which he lived. His tragical death is said to have been predicted by the widow of Edward the Confessor, who resided at Winchester, where the bishop was consecrated. When she saw him conducted in great pomp to the cathedral, struck by his venerable air and majestic demeanour, she exclaimed to those around her, "Beheld » upble martyr!'" Like many other prophecies, it doubtless might have been forgotten, had not circumstances afterwards caused its fulfilment. On the death of AValtheof, the government of Northum- berland was confided by William to this venerable prelate, who thus united in his hands the temporal as well as thf spiritual power ; repressing by the sword the excesses of the barbarous people whom he was called to govern, and in- structing them by the word. His own disposition being good, he suspected no ill in others ; and giving much time to study, delegated a great share of his authority to one Gilbert, his archdeacon, au ecclesiastic of ardent character, who committed great crimes and exactions, and permitted the soldiers to pillage and slay the inhabitants of the diocese, without listening to their prayers for redress. It was in vain that the good bishop tried to temper the harshness of this man by associating with him a relative of his own, one Leob, who sided with the archdeacon in all his exactions ; or took to his councils a noble Saxon, Leulf, uncle to the deceased Waltheof. The two tyrants disre- garded the remonstrances of the latter, and continued theii* career of crime and oppression. Leob, enraged at the remonstrances of Leidf, demanded his life of his confederate Gilbert, who entered the house of the Saxon, and slew him with most of his followers. The murdered man not only held vast possessions, but was greatly esteemed on account of the justness of his character ; and the crime excited such unusual indignation that the people, excited by his relatives and friends, flew to arms, demanding vengeance on the criminals. The bishop, in an agony of fear, sent messengers to say that justice should be done ; that he would place out of the pale of the law GQbert and his accomplices ; that he himself was inno- cent of the death of Leulf , and offered to purge himself by oath of all suspicion of the deed. This offer was accepted, and the two parties met at a church near Durham, a ferocious and armed multitude on one side, frantic for vengeance. They had seen, they said, the .assassins received and sheltered in the episcopal palace directly after the com- mission of the crime. Waloher, alarmed by their cries, refused to truLst himseH amongst them, but offered to take the oath in the church, where he was surrounded, together with Leob and Gilbert, the actual murderers. In the midst of the tumult, the Saxon cry of " Short rede — good rede," signifying " Short words — good words," was raised, and their leader called out "Slay the bishop!" The multitude, dehghted with the order, rushed to the sacred edifice, and attempted to set it on fire. In this peril the prelate commanded Gilbert, who had actually committed the offence, to quit the church, lest, as he said, the innocent should perish with the guilty ; the archdeacon obeyed, and was speedily torn in pieces by the Saxons. Leob refused to quit the place, which he vainly hoped would shelter him, although the flames had begun to penetrate in every part. Then it was the bishop took the resolution of quitting the building, in the hope that the lives of his companions might be spared. Covering his face with his mantle, he advanced amongst the crowd, but soon fell, pierced by a hundred wounds. His guilty relative, and those who were with him, perished in the flames. UNIVER.STTY OK r.v JiA 1UV« CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1081. Excited by this success, the insurgents returned to Dur- ham, and attempted to become masters of the citadel of the murdered bishop ; but tlie garrison, which was composed of Normans, beat them off, and they dispersed themselves in the neighbouring country. No sooner did the report of this insurrection reach the ears of Odo, the grand justiciary of the kingdom, than lie marched towards Durham with a strong body of men to restore order. Incensed at the death of his brother prelate, he gave licence to his soldiery to ravage and destroy. The hornir-^ that ensued were fearful. The innocent suffered with the guilty. Whenever a Saxon was met with he was portion of the country, delivering, in the course of bis progress, upwards of 300 Saxons, whom the Welsh had enslaved. From this excursion he was speedily reca'led by a confederacy entered into against him by the Danes, whose king, Canute the Younger, laid claim to the crown of England, and with this intention entered into an alliance with Olave, King of Norway, and with his brother-in-law Robert, Count of Flanders, who promised him a succour of GOO vessels. "William felt the utmost alarm at this alliance, which seriously menaced his throne, and he enlisted under hia banners a crowd of mercenaries from every part of Europe, whom he paid by the enormous contributions wrung from -'»^^ ^^i- '^, Depopulation of Hampshire, to form the Xew Forest. put to death, with circumstances of such appalling barbarity that we catniot venture to describe them. This scene of horrors took place in 1080, and fell with double hardship on the inliabitants, who had not yet re- covered from the incursion which Maleclm, King of Scotland, Ijad made a short time previously in the province. William resolved to ch;islise the Scots once more, and for that purpose entrusted the command of an expedition to his eldest son Robert, surnamed Ceurte-heuse on account of the shortness of his legs. But on the arrival of the prince in Norlliundiria, he no longer found an enemy to oppose )iim, Malcolm and iiis troops having retired into their own country. Tlie only result, therefore, of the enterprise w.as the founding of the town of Newcastle, upon the banks of the river Tyne. Tiie following year the king marched into Wales in person, with numerous forces, and overran a considerable his English subjects. The Danish army, however, dispersed without a battle, either from insubordination or want of supplies, or perhaps from both causes united. CHAPTER XXXII. Revolt of R liert, the EWe't Son of the Conqueror— His Submission— Deith of Matilda — Arrest t.f Odo, Bishop of Bayeux — Domesd.ty liuok. Altuough released from external menaces, it was not permitted to the Conqueror to enjoy repose in the hist yc«ir.". of his eventful reign. Ordericus Vitahs, in speaking of him, says, " lie was afflicteel by the just judgment of God. Since the death of Waltheof, whom he had so unjustly punished, he had neither repose nor peace, and the astonish- ing course of his success was poisoned by the troubles whicb those related to liim occasioned." When William first received the submission of the pro- A.D. lOSl.] WILLIAM'S SUCCESSOR IN NORMANDY. 103 viuco of Maine, ho liad promised the iiiliabitants tliat [ endeavoured to appease the jealousy of his neighbours, as Robert should he their priuee ; and before ho undertook i aflordmg them a prospect of separating Eugknd froni'liis the expedition against EugLvnd, he liad, on the applieation j dominions on the Continent; but when Roliort demanded ■William the Conqueror and his Son Robert. (Sec p. 10-1.' of the Frouch court, declared him his successor in Nor- mandy, and h.ad ohlipjed the barons of thiit diK-hy to do him homage as their future sovereign. By this artifipo, he had of him the execution of those engagements, ho gave him an absolute refusal, aiul told him. 'according to tlw homely saving, tliat he never intciidcd t„ tlir„\Y"ofE Ids clothes 104 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. Fa.d. 1081 till he went to bed. Robert openly declared bis dis- content; and -was suspected of secretly instigating tbe King of France and the Earl of Brittany to the opposition wliich they made to William, and which had formerly frustrated bis attempts on the town of Dol ; and, as the quarrel still augmented, Robert proceeded to entertain a strong jealousy of his two surviving brothers, William and Henry (for Richard was killed in hunting by a stag), Avho, by greater submission and complaisance, had acquired the affections of their father. In this dispositioa on both sides, a small matter sufficed to produce a rupture be- tween them. The three princes, residing with their father in the castle of I'Aigle, in Normandy, were one day engaged in sport together ; and, after some mirth and jollity, the two younger took a fancy of throwing over some water on Robert, as he passed through the court on leaving their apartment — a frolic which he would naturally have regarded ss innocent, had it not been for the suggestions of Alberic de Grentmesuil, son of that Hugh de Grentmesnil whom William had formerly deprived of his fortunes, when that baron deserted him during his greatest diiriculties in Eng- land. The young man, mindful of the injury, persuaded the prince that this action was meant as a public affront, which it behoved him in honour to resent ; and the choleric Robert, drawing his sword, ran up-stairs, with an intention of taking revenge on his brothers. The whole castle was filled with tumult, which the king himself, who hastened from his apartment, found some difficulty in appeasing. He could by no means calra^the resentment of liis eldest son, who, complaining of his father's partiality, and fancying that no proper atonement had been made for the insult, left the court that very evening, and hastened to Rouen, with the intention of seizing the citadel of that place. Dis- appointed in this attempt by the precaution and vigilance of Roger de Ivery, the governor, he fled to Hugh do Neuf- chatcl, a powerful Norman bai'ou, who gave him protection in his castles ; and he levied war openly against his father. The popular character of the prince, and a similarity of manners, engaged all the young nobility of Normandy and Maine, as well as of Anjou and Brittany, to take part with him ; and it was suspected that Matilda, his mother, whose favourite ho was, supported him in his rebellion by secret remittances of money, which so enraged her husband that, despite the affection he is known to have borne her, he k said to have beaten her with his own hand. All the hereditary provinces of William were convulsed by this war, and he was at la«t compelled to draw an army from England to assist him. Tliese forces, led by his ancient captains, soon enabled him to drive Robert and bis adherents from their strongholds, and re-establish his authority; the rebellious son himself being driven to seek a retreat in the castle of Gerberay, which the ICiug of France, who had secretly fomented these dissensions, placed at his disposal. lu this fortress he was closely besieged by liis angry father, and many encounters took place in the sorties made by the garrison. In one of these Robert engaged the king without know- ing him, wounded him in the arm, and unhorsed him. On William calling out for asiistance, his son recognised his voice, and, filled with liorror at the idea of having so nearly become a parricide, t!u-ew himself at his feet, and asked pardon for his offeucei. M'illii'.m'a morlificatioa, however, and rage did not permit him to reply to this dutiful sub- mission as be ought to have done : breathing a malediction upon bis heir, he mounted his son's horse, and rode sullenly away. The entreaties of the queen, and other influences, soon afterwards brought about a reconciliation ; but it is thought the Conqueror in his heart never forgave his son, although he afterwards took Robert to England. This occurred pre- vious to the expedition recorded in the preceding chapter, in which he sent his son to oppose the King of Scotland. The tranquillity which now ensued gave WiUiam leisure to begin an undertaking which proves the comprehensive nature of his talents : it was a general survey of all the lands in the kingdom in 1081 ; their extent in each district ; their proprietors, tenures, value ; the quantity of meadow, pasture, wood, and arable land which they contained ; and, in some counties, the number of tenants, cottagers, and slaves of all denominations who lived on them. He ap- pointed commissioners for this purpose, who entered every particular in their register by the verdict of juries, and, after a labour of six years (for the work w;is so long in finishing), brought him an exact account of all the lauded property in England. This monument, called Domesday Book — tbe most valuable piece of antiquity possessed by any nation — is still preserved in the Exchequer ; and, though only some extracts of it have hitherto been pub- lished, it serves to illustrate, in many particulars, the an- cient condition of England. The great Alfred had finished a like survey of the kingdom in his time, which was long kept at ■Winchester, and which probably served as a model to ^Vi!liam in his undertaking. William, in common with all the great men of the time, was passionately addicted to the chase ; a pastime he in- dulged in at the expense of his unhappy subjects. Not content with the royal domains, he resolved to make a new forest near 'Winchester, his usual place of abode, and for this purpose laid waste a tract of country extending above thirty miles, expelling the inhabitants from their houses, and seizing on their property without affording them the least compensation ; neither did he respect the churches and convents— the possessions of the clergy as well as laity were aUko confiscated to his pleasures. At the same time, he enacted penalties, more severe than had hitherto been known in England, against hunting in any of the royal forests. The killing of a deer, wild boar, or hare, was punished by the loss of tbe offender's eyes— and that at a time when the slaying of a fellow-creature might be atoned by the payment of a fine. IMatilda was spared the pain of witnessing the misfortunes of her favourite son ; she died some years before. Matthew Raris, in speaking of her, says, " She was an incomparably noble and pious princess, whose generous gifts were the joy of the Church." Although the wife of William possessed many virtues, her character was far from being perfect. It was her in- fluence which induced her husband to put the Earl of Gloucester to death, and to confiseato his possessions to her use. She never forgave that unhappy noble for having rejected her love. It is even said that one of the conditions on which. she married William was, that he should minister to her re- venge. Certain it is that she refused the latter when he first made proposab for her hand, which SO much incensed TO A.D. IOJTT.J DEATH OF WILLIAM. 105 the Norman dnke that, meeting her in the streets of Bruges as she returned from the church, he not only beat her, but rolled her in the dirt. Notwithstanding this unknightly outrage, she afterwards consented to become his wife. The transactions recorded during the remainder of this reign may be considered more as domestic occurrences which concern the prince, than as national events which regard England. Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, the king's uterine brother, whom he had created Earl of Kent, and entrusted with a great share of power during his whole reign, had amassed immense riches ; and, agreeably to the usual pro- gress of human wishes, he began to regard his present acquisitions as but a step to farther grandeur. He had formed the chimerical project of buying the papacy ; and though Gregory, the reigning pope, was not of advanced years, the prelate had confided so much in the predictions of an astrologer, that he reckoned on the pontiff's death, and on attaining, by his own intrigues and money, that envied state of greatness. Resolving, therefore, to remit all his riches to Italy, he had persuaded many considerable barons, and among the rest Hugh, Earl of Chester, to take the same course, in hopes that when he should mount the Papal throne, he would bestow oa them more con- siderable establishments in that country. The king, from whom all these projects had been carefully concealed, at last got intelligence of the design, and ordered Odo to be arrested. His officers, from respect to the immunities which the ecclesiastics now assumed, scrupled to execute the com- mand, till the king himself was obliged in person to seize him ; and when Odo insisted that he was a prelate, and exempt from all temporal jurisdiction, William replied that he arrested him not as Bishop of Bayeux, but as Earl of Kent. He was sent prisoner to Normandy, and, notwith- standing the remonstrances and menaces of Gregory, was kept in confinement during the remainder of WilUam's reign. AVilliam was detained upon the Continent some time after this affair by a quarrel which, in 1087, broke out between himself and his suzerain the lung of France, and was occasioned by inroads which the French barons made into Normandy. His displeasure was also increased by some railleries which had been thrown out against his person. The king had grown remarkably stout, and been detained for some time on a bed of sickness. Philip, hearing of this, expressed his surprise that his brother of England should be so long at his lying-in, but that no doubt there would be a fine churching when he was delivered. The Conqueror, enraged at the insulting jest, sent him word, that as soon as he was up he would be churched in Notre Dame, and present so many lights— alluding to the Catholic custom — as would give little pleasure to the King of France. Im- mediately on his recovery he kept his word ; for, gathering an army, he led his forces into the L'Isle de France, laying everything waste with fire and sword in his passage, and took the town of Mantes, which he reduced to ashes. This career of conquest, however, was cut short by an accident which afterwards cost William his life. His horse starting on a sudden, caused him to bruise his stomach severely against the pommel of his saddle. Being advanced in years, he began to apprehend the consequences, and ordered himself to be conveyed to the monastery of St. Gervas. Finding his end approaching, he perceived the vanity of all human greatness, and began to feel the most bitter remorse of conscience for the cruelties he had prac- tised, the desolation he had caused, and the innocent blood he had shed during his reign in England; and by way of atonement gave great gifts to various monasteries. He also commanded that Earls Morcar, Siward, Beorn, and other English prisoners, should be set at liberty. He was now prevailed upon, though not without reluctance, to release his brother Odo, against whom he was terribly in- censed. He left Normandy and Maine to his eldest son Robert, whom he had never forgiven for hia rebellion against him. He wrote to Lanfranc, the primate, desiring him to crown William King of England, and bequeathed to his son Henry the possessions of his mother ; foretelHng, it is said, that he would one day surpass both his brothers in greatness. He died at Rouen, on the 9th of September, 1087, in the sixty-third year of his age, the twenty-first of his reign in England, and fifty-fourth over Normandy. Few princes have been more fortunate than William, or better entitled to grandeur and prosperity, from the abilities and the vigour of mind displayed in all his con- duct. His spirit was bold and enterprising, yet guided by prudence ; his ambition, which was exorbitant, and lay little under the restraints of justice, still less under those of humanity, ever submitted to the dictates of sound policy. Born in an age when the minds of men were intractable and unacquainted with submission, he was yet able to direct them to his purposes ; and partly from the influence of his vehement character, partly from art and dissimula- tion, to establish an unlimited authority. The maxims of his administration were austere, but might have been useful, had they been solely employed to preserve order in an established government : they were ill calculated for softening the rigours which, under the most gentle manage- ment, are inseparable from conquest. Hia attempt against England was the last gieat enterprise of the kind which, during the course of 800 years, has fully succeeded in Europe ; and the force of his genius broke through those limits which the feudal institutions and the refined policy of princes have fixed to the several states of Christendom. King William had issue, besides his three sons who sur- vived him, five daughters, to wit — 1. Cicely, a nun in the monastery of Feschamp, afterwards abbess in the Holy Trinity at Caen, where she died in 1127. 2. Constantia, married to Alan Fergent, Earl of Brittany : she died without issue. 3. Alice, contracted to Harold. 4. Adela, married to Stephen, Earl of Blois, by whom she had four sons — Wil- liam, Theobald, Henry, and Stephen — of whom the elder was neglected on account of the imbecility of his under- standing. 6. Agatha, who died a virgin, but was be- trothed to the King of Gallicia : she died on her journey thither, before she joined her bridegroom. A learned historian gives the following more circum- stantial account of William's death and character. He says, " Early on the morning of the 9 th of September, 1087, the king heard the sound of a bell, and eagerly demanded what it meant. He was told that it sounded the hour of prime in the Church of St. Mary. ' Then,' said he, ' I com- mend my soul to my Lady, the mother of God, that by her holy prayers she may reconcile me to her son, my Lord Jesus Christ,' and immediately expired." From the events which followed the reader may judge of the unsettled nature of the time. The knights and 106 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1087. prelates hastened to their respective homea to seciffe their property ; the citizens of Roneu begau to conceal their most valuable effects ; the servants rifled the palace, and hurried away with the booty ; and the royal corpse for three hours Jay almost in a state of nudity on the ground. At length the archbishop ordered the body to be interred at Caen ; and Herluin, a neighbouring knight, out of compassion, conveyed it at his own expense to that city. At the day appointed for the interment, Prince Henry, the Norman prelates, and a multitude of clergy and people, assembled in the Church of St. Stephen, which the Conqueror bad founded. The mass had been performed, the corpse was placed on the bier, and the Bishop of Evreux had pronounced the panegyric of the deceased, when a voice from the crowd " If any one wish to know what manner of man he was, or what worship he had, or of how many lands he Were the lord, we will describe him as we have known him ; for we looked ou him, and. some time lived in his herd. King William was a very wise man, and very rich, more worship- ful and strong than any of his fore-gangers. He was mild to good men who loved God, and stark beyond all bounds to those who withstaid his will. On the very stede where God gave him to win England, he reared a noble monastery and set monks therein, and endowed it well. He was very worshipful. Thrice he bore his king-helmet every year when he was in England : at Easter he bore it at AVin- chester, at Pentecost at AVestminster, and in mid-winter at Gloucester: and there were with him all the rich men all View of Lincoln, showing the Ruins of the Castle. exclaimed, " He whom you have praised was a robber. The very land on which you stand is mine. By violence he took it from ray father ; and in the name of God I forbid you to bury him in it." The speaker was Asceline Fitz-Arthur, who had often, but fruitlessly, sought reparation from the justice of William. After some debate the prelates called him to them, paid him sixty shillings for the grave, and promised that he should receive the full value of his land. The ceremony was then continued, and the body of the king deposited in a coffin of stone. William's character has been drawn with apparent im- partiality in the Saxon Chronicle, by a contemporary and an Englishman. That the reader may learn the opinion of one who possessed the means of forming an accurate judg- ment, we have tranaeribed the passage, retaining, as far as it may be iiitelli^jible. the phraseology of the original :— over England, archbishops and diocesan liishops, abbot? and earls, thanes and knights. Moreover, he was a very stark man, and very savage ; so that no man durst do anything against his will. He had earls in his bonds, who liad done against his will ; bishops he set off their bishoprics, abbots off their abbotries, and thanes in prisons ; and at last he did not spare his own brother Odo. Him he set in prison. Yet, among other things, we must not forget the good frith which he made in this land, so that a man that was good for aught might travel over the kingdom with his bosom full of gold without molestation ; and no man durst slay another man, though he had suffered never so mickle evil from the other. He ruled over England ; and by his cunning he was so thoroughly acquainted with it, that there is not a hide of land of which he did not know both who had it, and what was its worth, and that he set down in Lia A.D. 1087.] CHARACTER OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR. 107 ^7TitiDgs. Wales was under his wield, and therein he wrought castles : and he wielded the Isle of Man withal : and moreover, he subdued Scotland by his micklc strength. Normandy w;vs his by kinn : and over the earldom called Mans ho ruled : and if he might have lived yet two years, he would have won Ireland by the fame of his power, and without any armament. Yet, truly, in his time men had mickle suffering, and very many hardships. Castles he caused to be wrought, and poor men to bo oppressed. He was so very stark. He tcok from his subjects many marks of gold, and many hundred pounds of silver ; and that he took, Bome by right, and some by mickle might, for very little need. He had fallen into avarice, and greediness he loved withal. He let his lands to iine as dear as he could ; then came some other and bade more than the first had given, and the king let it to him who bade more. Then came a third and bid yet more, and the king let it into the hands of the man who bade the most. Nor did he reck how sinfully his reeves got money of poor men, or how many unlawful things they did. For the more men talked of right law, the more they did against the law. He also set many deer friths ; and he made laws therewith, that whosoever should slay hart or hind, him man should blind. As he forbade the slaying of harts, so also did he of boars. So much he loved the high deer, as if he had been their father. He also decreed about hares, that they should go free. His rich men moaned, and the poor men miu'mured ; but he was so hard that he recked not the hatred of them all. For it was need they should follow the king's will withal, if they wished to live, or have lands or goods, or his favour. Al;is, that any man should be so moody, and should so puff up himself and think himself above all other men ! J\lay Almighty God have mercy on his soul, and grant him forgiveness of his sins ! " To this account may be added a few particulars gleaned from other historians. The king was of ordinary stature, but inclined to corpulency. His countenance wore an air of ferocity, which, when he was agitated by passion, struck terror into every beholder. The story told of his strength at one period of his life almost exceeds belief. It is said that, sitting on horseback, he could draw the string of a bow which no other man could bend even on foot. William's education had left on his mind religious im- pressions which were never effaced. When, indeed, his power or interest was concerned, he listened to no sugges- tions but those of ambition or avarice, but on other occa- sions he displayed a strong sense of reUgion, and a profound respect for its institutions. Dr. Lingard concludes this roiga with the following paragraph : — " During William's reign the people of England were exposed to calamities of every description. It commenced with years of carnage and devastation, its progress was marked by a regular system of confiscation and oppression, and this succession of evils was closed with famme and pestilence. In 10S6, a summer more rainy and tempestu- ous than had been experienced in the memory of man, occasioned a total failure in the harvest ; and the winter introduced a malignant disease, which attacked one-half of the inhabitants, and is said to have proved f;ital to many thousands. Even of those who escaped the infection, or recovered from the disease, numbers perished afterwards from want or unwholesome nourishment. ' Alas ! ' exclaims an eye-witness, ' how miserable, how rueful a time was that ! The wretched victims had nearly perished by the fever; then came the sharp hunger, and destroyed them outricht. Who is so hard-hearted as not to weep over such calamities '.■" " CHAPTER XXXIII. Accession of Willioin Rufus-Consplracy against him— Invasion of Nor- mandy — The Crusades. WiLLiAjr, whose surname of Rufus is said to have been derived from the colour of his hair, no sooner found himself in possession of his father's letter to the primate Lanfranc, than he fled from the monastery of St. Gervas, where William was dying, and hastened to England, in order to secure possession of the crowa. Sensible that an act so opposed to the laws of primo- geniture and the feudal rights might meet with great opposition from the nobles, he trusted to his celerity for success, and reached the kingdom before the news of the king's death arrived. Pretending orders from the dead monarch, he secured the strong fortresses of Dover, Pevensey, and Hastings. On his arrival a council of prelates and barons was summoned to proceed to the election of a sove- reign. Hitherto there had been no precedent in which the younger brother had been preferred to the elder. Robert, the rightful heir, and his partisans, were in Normandy; William and his adherents on the spot ; added to which, the archbishop Lanfranc, who felt himself bound to obey the last injunction of his benefiictor William, exerted the whole influence of the Church in his favour. Three weeks after the death of his father he was proclaimed king, and crowned with the usual formalities. As we before stated, the Conqueror on his deathbed com- manded the liberation of his half-brother Odo, the Bishop of Bayeux. That warlike prelate, who had recovered some portion of his possessions in Kent, had long been the enemy of Lanfranc. The prompt compliance of the latter with the will of the deceased king in crowning William, who at first yielded himselt entirely to his directions, caused Odo to extend his hatred to his nephew, and he set himself accord- ingly to form a party in favour of the eldest brother, Robert, who was already in possession of the duchy of Normandy, as well as the county of Maine, (a.d. 1088.) The great point he urged upon the nobles whom he en- listed in the cause of the last-named prince was the fact ot their holding possessions in both countries, and that it would be much more prudent to hold their lands of one sovereign onlj'. These representations were not without eflect ; and whilst the newly-crowned king held the festival of Easter, the barons, who had matured tUeir plans, departed to raise the standard o£ revolt in various parts of the king- dom — Odo, in Kent ; William, Bishop of Durham, in Morthuraberland ; Geoffery of Coutances, ia Somerset; Roger Montgomery in Shropshire ; Hugh de Bigod, in Nortolk; and Hugh Je Grentinensil, in Leicester. The rising which thus took place might have been for- midable if the movements of the insurgents had been seconded by energetic action on the part o£ Robert. That pleasure, loving prince, who had promised to bring over an army from Normandy, once more sacrificed the prospect of a throne to his habitual indolence; and Odo waited in vain for the lus CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY Or ENGLMD. i.D. 1088. assistance which was to come across the channel. When at length single sliips with dL'tachnicnts of the iavadmg forces ventured froiu the Norman coast, tliey were intercepted and destroyed by ICuglish cruisers. Ilufiis, on learning the pre- parations which were making against him, had wisely per- mitted the fitting out of vessels, which seem to have been the firot that may be called privateers ; and his island subjects began thus early to give proofs of that superiority in the art of naval warfare which they have ever since maintained. The Norman attempt at invasion was abandoned, and the Enghsh insurgents were left to sustain the shock of the king's forces as best they might. Threatened by his own countrymen, (he Red King turned The first attacks of Rufus were directe/l against his uncle Odo, of Bayeux. That fierce and turbvilent bishop waited his coming at Fevensey, which he had fortified strongly and garrisoned. This stronghold wpr. taken after a siege of a few weeks, and Odo fell into the hands of Rufus, who gave him liberty, on the condition of his taking a solemn eath to deliver up Rochester Castle into tlie king's possession, and to quit the country immediately afterwards. Rochester Castle was held by Eustace, lOarl of Boulogne, one of the warmest partisans of Robert. ^Vhea Odo arrived before the gates with the king's escort, and demanded iu set form that the keys should be given up, the earl to'jk him prisoner with his guards. Tliis was a stratagem by "--^ IF/ William II., sumamod Kutus. for counsel and assistance to the more honest and less ambitious Anglo-Saxons. He adopted a policy of concilia- tion towards those nobles of Anglo-Saxon blood who still retained any influence : he made liberal promises, which afterwards were only partially fulfilled, and he obtained their adherence to his cause. The king proclaimed the old Saxon call to battle, " Let every man who is not a man of notliing,* whether ho live iu burgh or out of burgh, leave hLs house and come," and many Englishmen flocked to his standard. • A *'man of nothing,'* In Anglo-Saxoo "unnlthlng," «r term of abuse and contt tnpU •nlderlnp," a which Odo hoped to escape the accusation of perjury, while he continued his rebellious course of action against the king. As the real commander of the garrison, this trucu- lent bishop sustained for many weeks the attacks of his royal nephew, who, with his united forces of English and Normans, laid siege to the castle. At length the besieged were subdued by disease and famine, and compelled to capitulate. They sent to 'William, informing liira of their desire, and demanding that they should be allowed to retain their lands and titk'S imder his sovereignty. Rufus at first refused to grant such a per- mission ; but the Norman troops in his army, who could not forget that the garrison of the castle were their countrymen, A.D. 1088.] TRIUMPH OF WILLIAM OVER THE FOLLOWERS OF ROBERT. 109 and many of whom may have had relatives or friends within the walls, made appeals to the mercy of the king. " We," they said, " who have been with thee in great dangers, After much entreaty, the king permitted the besieged to leave the town with their arms and horses. Not satisfied with this concession Odo had the arrogance to demand The Death of Conan. (See page 112.) entreat thee to spare our countrymen, who are thine also, and who have fought with thy father." * 10 • Orilericus Vitutis, that when the garrison quitted the castle the bugles of tht king's troops should not sound in token of triumph, as wa? the custom in tliose days. Rufus replied angrily that he would not grant such a request for a thousand marks of gold. 110 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. i'A.D. 1088. The Norman adherents of Robert then passed out of the gates with ensigns lowered, and amidst the sounds of exultation from the king's troops. At the sight of Odo, a great clamour arose among the English soldiers. They remembered the thousand crimes of the soldier-bishop, and cried out that he was unfit to live. " Ropes ! bring ropes ! " they shouted ; " hang the traitor bishop and his friends ! Wiiy is he allowed to go away in safety? The perjured murderer does not deserve his life ! " Such sounds as these frona every side thundered in the ears of the prelate, and thus, pursued by curses, he left the country for ever. Meanwhile tlie conspirators in another part of the king- dom liad met with ill success. The Earl of Shrewsbury, and with him other Normau nobles, had collected an army, which was occupied in laying waste the surrounding country. The earl with his troops set out from Shrewsbury, plundering and burning towns and villages, and putting many of the inhabitants to the sword. The progress of this marauding force was stopped on its arrival before Worcester. The citizens, excited by a deep hatred of their Normau oppressors, closed the gates, and, conveying their wives and children into the castle, prepared for a desperate resistance. Headed by their bishop, who refused to go into the castle, but took the post of danger on the walls, they gave battle to the besiegers, and having watched their opportunity when part of the Normau forces were absent on one of their plundering expeditions, the citizens sallied forth upon the remainder, and cut great numbers of them to pieces. These reverses proved .fatal to the success of the con- spiracy, and Rufus found little difficulty in dealing with the rest of the insurgent chiefs. Some he won to his side by promises; others, who still defied him, were quickly sub- dued, and were visited with various degrees of punishment, or made their escape into Normandy, with the loss of their estates. As soon as the insurrection was quelled, and aU danger from that source was at an end, Rufus revoked the conces- sions he had made to his English subjects, and before long the Anglo-Saxon population were reduced to their previous condition of servitude and misery. The ancient monastery of St. Augustine, at Canterbury, was venerated by the people as one of the few remaining monuments of their old independence. The Normans exerte sword ; but, having received some re-enforcements, a battle ensued, in which the Earl of Shrewsbury was slain. The victory, however, was on the side of the Earl of Chester, who remained for some time in Wales, desolating the country. While the Welsh wei'e still unsubdued, Rufus received attack. He built a wooden fort, opposite Bamborough, calling it Mah'oiiin, or "a bad neighbour;" and, havino' placed a garrison, he withlrew the rest of his army. His lieutenants were directed to lie in wait for every opportunity of inflicting damage upon tlie adherents of Earl Mowbray, or of gaining possession of his person. One night the earl quitted his castle with an escort of only thirty horsimsn. The object with which he did so is variously stated ; but the most probable account is that he was betrayed by some followers of Rufus, who made the otfer to give up the town of Newcastle into his possession. The earl was surprised by a body of Norman troops, and while many of his retinue were cut to pieces, he escaped from his assailants, and took sanctuary at St. Oswin's monastery, Tyneraouth. By the laws of chivalry, the- blackest criminal was s^fe under the shadow of the cross ; but the soldiers of William were neither deterred by those law.s, nor by any respect for the sacredness of the place- Bamborough Castle. information of a powerful confederacy which had been formed against hir;i in the north of England. The king had reason to suspect some of his nobles of disaffection, and especially Robert Mowbray, Earl of Northumberlanl, a powerful noble, whoie long absence from the court liad excited suspicion. A royal proclamation was issueil, calling upon every baron in the kingdom to appsar at court at the approaching festival of \Vhitsuntiile, on pain of outlawry. The Earl of Northumberland neglected to obey the summons, and the kin;; immediately marched an army to Newcastle, where he surpn»ed some of the earl's accomplices. He next besieged and took the castle of Tyneniouth, and thence proceeded to Bamborough, an im- pregnable fortress, to which the earl had retreated with his family. After various unsuccessful attempts to take this castle by storm, Rufus, who seems to have inherited muoli of the military talent of his father, adopted another plan of • Multtlew I'aris. They pursued the earl to his sanctuary, and after a des- perate resistance made him a prisoner. Having carried Earl Mowbray to Bamborough, ani placed him before the gates of his castle, they demanded a parley with the Countess Matilda. On her appearance, they exhibited her hushand as a prisoner, and told her that they would put out his eyes before her face unless she at once gave up the castle into their hands. IMatilda is described as having been remarkable for her beauty ; she was young, and had been married to the earl only a few months before. She did not long hesitate, but ordered the gates to be thrown open. Among the followers of Mowbray was one through whom Rufus gained a knowledge of the extent of the conspiracy, and of the persons implicated in it. The subsequent fate of Mowbray was that of a living death. His young wife had indeed saved him from blind- ness, but he was not the less deprived of the light of. day. Condemned to perpetual imprisonment, he was confined in a dungeon at Windsor Castle, wdiere we read that he dragged \ou existence for thirty years afterwards. A.D. inO.V CONSPIRACY TO DEPOSE RUFUS. 115 Pope Urban II. preaching the First Crusade in the Market-place of Clermont. (See page 119.) Among the other conspiratore were the Earl of Shrews- fcury, William of AlJerio, the king's godfather, and William, Count of Eu, who wa.s related to Rufus by blood. The first bought exemption from punishment with a large sum of money — as was a common practice in those days, as well as in later times ; 'William of Alderic was condemned to death ; the Count of Eu appealed to the ordeal of battle, or rather, as his guilt hardly admitted of dispute, proposed 116 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1096. to fight for his pardon, against a champion selected by the king. Ihe count was worsted in the encounter, and, by the Bent«nee of the law, was condemned to be barbarously mutilated, after a custom which had been derived from the natives of the East.* The object of the confederates had been to depose Rufus, and place upon the throne Stephen, Count of Aumale, who was the nephew of WilUam the Conqueror. The iuforraation which the king had obtained in the castle of Bamborough, enabled him to break up this formidable confederacy ; and besides the punishment which we have seen was inflicted upon the leaders, other nobles suffered the confiscation of their estates, and were imprisoned, or effected their escape to Normandy. The property of the banished nobles was plundered by the adherents of the king, and then left for some time uncultivated and without owners. Nevertheless, the people of the town or hundred in which such estates lay, were compelled to pay the fuU amount of land tax as before. The royal officers are compared by the chroniclers to thieves ; they plundered without mercy both the farmers' barns and the tradesmen's warehouses. The king, also, forcibly raised troops of men to build a wall encircling the Conqueror's Tower at London, a bridge over the Thames, and near the West Minster a hall, or palace of audiences, for the stated assemblies or assizes of the great barons. f The Saxon chro- nicle which contains these details, says that " the covmties on which these forced labours fell, were grievously tormented : each year passed by heavily and sorrowfully, on account of numberless vexations and multiplied contributions." CHAPTER XXXrV. Tb9 InsUtntion of Chivalry— Peter the Hormit— The Council of Clermont. In the year 1096 Robert determined to join a crusade then abont to set out for the Holy Land, and to enable him to do SO, he agreed to resign his duchy of Normandy into the hands of Rufus for a sum of £10,000. This transaction is described by the historians as having been a mortgage for three years ; but it must have been evident, even to the uncalculating mind of Robert, that he had little chance of regaining possession of his property at the end of that time. To enable us to understand this extraordinary proceeding on the part of Robert, it will be necessary to examine the oausee which led to those expeditions which are called the Crueadea. These causes, which had been iu operation for hundreds of years before, were two, of very opposite nature — viz., in the East, the spread of Mahometan power ; and !b the West, the institution of chivalry, preceded by the >nt*oducti©n of Christianity. The institution of chivalry had for its object the cultiva- tion of those virtues which may be classed under the word manhood, in its best and widest sense. The true knight was supposed to be pious, truthful, and brave ; a generous friend, a gallant warrior, a devoted lover. It was necessary for him to add great strength of body, and skill in all manly exercises, to gentleness of manners and culture of mind. Terrible in battle, it was his duty to wield the sword of justice, to strike down the oppressor and the tyrant ; but to • WmUm of Ifalmcsbnry. tWMtmtBstw HaT woa founded bf WtUiain llufus in 1097, help the weak, and give his life, if need be, in the cause of the innocent. The youth who aspired to knighthood began his career as a page in some noble liouse, where, under the gentle in- fluence of women, he was taught various accomplishments, and imbued with that beautiful though fantastic dream of honour which he hoped to realise in his future life. At the age of fourteen the page became an esquire, and was per- mitted to wear a sword. He now began a regular course of training for arras, and usually sought to attach himself to some knight of fame, whom he attended in hall or field, and wipported in battle. The young aspirant was admitted to the honours of knighthood at the age of twenty-one, unless he had previously won his spurs by some gaUant feat of arms. This honour was of rare occurrence, as, by the laws of chivalry, the duties of esquire were limited to attendance upon his lord, and he was permitted few opportunities of personal distinction. The original spirit of chivalry was essentially reUgious. The initiation into the order of knighthood was a religious ceremony, and usually took place on one of the feasts of the Church, as Easter-day, the day of Pentecost, or Christ- mas-day. The aspirant prepared himself for his new dignity by long vigils, fasts, and prayer ; and on the night before the ceremony took place, he repaired alone to the church, where he passed the hours in watching beside his armour. On the day appointed, high mass was performed in the presence of the nobles and bishops and an assembly of the people; and after the sword of the novice had been con- secrated to the service of heaven, he took a solemn vow, according to the laws of chivalry, " to speak the truth, to succour the helpless and oppressed, and never to turn back from an enemy." The bishop then dubbed him a knight, and the other knights, and often the ladies present, advanced and armed the youth. The spurs were usually buckled on first, and thus came to be regarded as the symbol of knight- hood. Such was the form by which a young man was admitted to the highest dignity of chivalry. Chivalry recognised nothing higher or nobler than the condition of a knight, and the fame of every man was borne by the mouths of minstrels and palmers, not tied to his name by a title. Various writers have attempted to fix the date at which chivalry first took its rise ; but on this point there is no certain information. Probably the idea of chivalry was the growth of centuries, and made its way gradually through the corruptions of the times in which it was born. What- ever may have been its origin, the institution was in its infancy in the tenth and eleventh centuries, and received no marked development until the time of the first Crusade. The stories of King Arthur and his Knights of the Round Table * are probably as fabulous as the wonders of Merlin, or the tales of the Arabian Nights. In the days of Charle- magne, chivalry, in the general sense of the word, was yet unborn ; and though in the time of Alfred its spirit un- doubtedly existed in our own country, it had yet assumed no name or distinctive form According to Tacitus, customs bearing a resemblance to those of chivalry existed in his day among the German » "Morto Arthur" -wa-s a French romance, translated by Sir Tliomaa Mallory, Knight, ftnl printed liy Caxton, A.D. 1481. A.D. 1096.] TBE HOLY LAND. 117 nations. On the fall of Rome, the.se tribes subdued and colonised the country now called France, and it is probable that they planted there the germ of the institution of chivalry. The first traces of its existence in France appear Boon after the time of Charlemagne. It originated with a few knights, who endeavoured to introduce among their licentious companions a love of virtue and honour. How- ever small may have been the early success of their efforts, the principle of chivaby to which they gave expression shines like a star in those dark ages. The laws of chivalry gradually became recognised and enforced, and were submitted to by every man who desired to win either the smiles of women or honourable fame among men. Refined and mystical as were the doctrines of chivalry, its laws were practical and severe, demanding mortification and self-denial. In later times the simple and austere habits of the knights were exchanged for luxury and licentiousness, and the spirit of chivalry decayed with the growth of those arts of life which conduce to ease and refinement. Towards the end of the eleventh century, the attention of Europe was attracted to the state of affairs in the Holy Land, and chivalry, which had hitherto been rather a name than a reality, received from this cause a sudden and powerful impulse. From the period of the destruction of the second temple, the history of Jerusalem had been a record of strife and bloodshed. During the early occupation of the city by the. Romans, the holy places were profaned by pagan rites, and the spots venerated alike by Jew and Christian became the scene of sacrifices to heathen deities. In the fourth century, when Rome herself acknowledged the doctrines of Christianity, churche* were erected on the ruins of the temples of Veuus and Jove, and Jerusalem was again regarded as the seat of the true faith. When Mahomet appeared and spread his new doctrines throughout the East, the aspect of affairs was once more changed, and the Holy City fell into the hands of the Arabians. In the year 969, the dominion of the caliphs of Egypt was established over the whole of Palestine. In the following century a multitude of rude and savage Turkmans from the shores of the Caspian Sea invaded the lands of the people of the south. These Tartar hordes, Balled in history the Seljuk Turks, gradually extended their conquests, and between the years 1038 and 1092 obtained possession of Persia, Arabia, and the greater part of Syria. The invaders embraced the religion of Mahomet, and in many cases a fusion took place between them and the con- quered nations. After various vicissitudes, Jerusalem, in the year 1094, was in the hands of the Turkish supporters of the Caliph of Cairo. In every age the Holy Land had been held in the highest veneration by the Christian nations. Pilgrims proceeded thither from the most distant parts of Europe, in the faith that the long and toilsome journey would be rewarded by an expiation of their sins. With unwavering faith in the protection of Heaven, the pilgrim set out on foot to traverse inhospitable wastes, cross rivers and seas, and make his way through unknown regions to the land of promise. Dressed in the costume mentioned in the Bible, and carrying with him only a staff in his hand and a scrip at his side, he trusted entirely to charity for his support. Wherever the Christian religion prevailed among the people, that charity was not withheld ; his character was held in veneration, and food and lodging were provided for him as a religious duty. At rare intervals along his way, he came to a hospital or almshouse, bmlt for the reception of pilgrims by some Christian prince. On his return he placed in the church of his native town the branch of the sacred palm- tree* (which he had brought from Jerusalem), in proof of the accomplishment of his vow. During the time that Palestine remained under Christian, rule, these pilgrimages were performed without much danger,, and devotees from all parts of Europe flocked to the Holy City. The coffers of the Church were enriched by the sala of relics, which each traveller eagerly desired to possess. Under the sway of the Caliphs the pilgrimages continued, but the Christians were treated with indignity by the Turks, and various persecutions took place. In the tenth century a belief was entertained that the end of the world was at hand, and people of all classes hurried to Jerusalem in hope of a purification from their sins. In the eleventh century the persecutions of the Christians increased, and their condition became wretched in the extreme. They were, indeed, tolerated in the Holy City on payment of a tribute of two pieces of gold yearly, but their religious ceremonies were prohibited, their property frequently plun- dered, and the honour of their daughters violated. Roman Medal reprosent.ug the Palm-tree of Judea. Since the fourth century it was generally believed that the very cross on which Christ sufiered had been discovered at Jerusalem. This belief afforded an additional stimulus to the piety of devotees, and a piece of the sacred wood was regarded as of inestimable value. Pilgrims, therefore, still made their way to Jerusalem, but were not permitted to enter the city except on payment of a piece of gold — a large sum at that day. Very few of the pOgrims possessed enough to satisfy tliis demand, and they were driven from the gates, with their long-deferred hope turned to utter despair. jNIany of them died from famine before the walls of the city ; many more perished by the roadside, as they pursued their weary journey homewards ; and but a few survived to tell the tale to Europe, and to kindle the flame which was soon to burn up with fury. The Christian emperors of the East are reported to have sent letters from time to time to the princes of Europe, detaiUng the suflferings of the Christians in Judea, anc' soliciting assistance. These appeals, together with the accounts of Turkish cruelties given by the returned pilgrims, caused a feeling of deep indignation throughout Europe, and aroused the spirit of chivalry. • Old chroniclers speak of pilgrims retnrning from the Holy Land with their staves wrealhed with palm j and from this custom arose the word '• palmer," which sienified a holy traveller to Jerasalem. 118 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. I A.D. 1096. At this time there appeared on the scene a remarkable man, who is known to posterity by the name of Peter the Hermit. In his youth he had been a soldier, and had been married, but subsequently be became a priest. He is de- scribed as having been small and mean in person, but with eyes powerful in expression, and an eloquent voice. He •had long been noted for the austerity of his life, and it is said of him that he found pleasure in the greatest abstinence. This man formed the determination of visiting Jerusalem, and having performed the journey in safety, he paid the piece of gold demanded, and wa^i admitted into the city. Here he was a witness of the cruelties perpetrated upon the Christians, and was seized with horror and indignation at the sight. He held a conference with the Greek patriarch, who, at the suggestion of Peter, determined to write to the Pope and the princes of the West, describing the misery of the Christians, and praying for protection. Furnished with his credentials, Peter returned to Italy The story of his progress is told by various writers of that age. " He set out," says Guibert Nogeut, " from whence I know not, nor with what design ; but we saw him at that time passing through the towns and villages, preach- ing everywhere, and the people surrounding him in crowds, loading him with presents, and celebrating his sanctity with such high eulogiuras, that I never remember to have seen such honours paid to any other person. He showed himself very generous, however, in the distribution of the things given to him. He brought back to their homes the women that had abandoned their husbands, not without add- ing gifts of his own, and re-established peace between those who lived unhappily, with wonderful authority. In every- thing he said or did, it seemed as if there was something divine ; so much so, that people went to pluck some of the hairs from his mule, which they kept afterwards as relics ; which I mention here, not that they really were so, but only served to satisfy the public love of anything extra- ordinary. Wliile out of doors, he wore a wooUen tunic with St. Ikleua discovering the True Cross.— From a Greek Manuscript of the Ninth Century, in the Imperial Library of Paris. and laid his complaint before Urban II. The Pope was tlien engaged in a dispute with Henry IV., Emperor of Germany, who was endeavourip.g to depose Urban, and to place Guibert, a pope of his own election, upon the throne. Urban was also embroiled with Philip I. of France, in consequence of the adulterous intercourse held by that prince with Bertrade, in defiance of the pontifical authority. The Pope had been compelled to seek the pro- tection of Robert Guiscard, a powerful freebooter, who set the majesty of France and Germany at defiance. There Peter sought the Pope, and in the presence of Bohemond, Prince of Tarentinn, the gallant son of Robert, the first council was held, which resulted in the preaching of the Crusade. The tale told by the hermit was received with the deepest attention, and the Pope warmly espoused his cause. Urban gave his authority to the scheme of the Crusade, and with the promise of his active co-operation, Peter set out to preach the delivery of the Holy Laud throughout Europe. a brown mantle, which fell down to his heels. He had his arms and bis feet bare, ate little or no bread, and lived upon fish and wine." Such wiis the appearance of the man whose eloquence drew after him the whole of Europe. The records of history afford no other instance of events so stupendous, arising from a cause apparently so insignificant. The position ot Peter, however, is not to be measured by his woollen garb and low estate. The fame of the anchorite had gone before him ; he carried with him the Pope's authority ; he was a palmer from Jerusalem, who had himself seen the things he described. The age was enthusiastic, and religious sentiment, as well as knightly ambition, was enlisted in the cause which he preached. While Peter journeyed on from city to city, Urban called together a council at Placontia, at which deputies were present from the Emperor of Constantinople. The council being unanimous in favour of the Crusade, Urban determined to venture across the Alps. A second council was held at Clermont, in Auvergne, at which were assembled bishops i.D. 1C9C.] THE FIRST CRUSADE. 119 and princes, both of France and Germany, and a vast con- conrse of people. After the less important business of the meeting had been transacted, Urban came forth from the church in which the council w.ts held, and addressed the multitude gathered in the market-place. He recouuted the long catalogue of, wrongs suffered by the Christians in the Holy Land from the pagan* race. With an eloquence for which he was remarkable, he appealed to the most powerful passions which animate the breast of mankind ; and the assembly rose up and cried with one voice — " It is the wiU of God ! it isthe wOlof God!" The news of this council spread with wonderful rapidity over the world ; and, in the words of an old historian, " throughout the earth the Christians glorified themselves and were filled with joy ; while the Gentiles of Arabia and Persia trembled, and were seized with sadness : the souls of the one race were exalted, those of the others stricken with fear and stupor." Some modern historians, in speaking of the influence possessed by Urban over the people, have reproached his memory for the use to which he applied his eloquence, and for having incited the people to the wild and bloodthirsty expeditions of the Crusades, with a view to his own interest. Such an accusation cannot be regarded as just. It is the part of wisdom, as of charity, to judge of a man's acts, not by a standard of pure and abstract right, but rather with regard to the times in which he lived and the influences by which he was surrounded. The spirit of the age was ■warlike and enthusiastic, and such a spirit may be traced through the conduct of Pope Urban ; but there is no reason to doubt that he was sincere, and that he upheld the cause of the Crusades at the cost of great personal sacrifices. CHAPTER XXXV. The First Crusade— The Byzantine Empire— Siege and Capture of Jerusalem. At the Council of Clermont a universal peace was pro- claimed, cafled the Truce of God, and its observance was some time afterwards sworn throughout the country. Europe had long been in a disturbed condition ; the weak were liable to be plundered by the strong without redress ; and wars and feuds between rival princes were continued with little intermission. It is related that at the Truce of God these evils disappeared, and for a short time there was a profound peace. Thieves and murderers — criminals of every dye, were tempted by the prospect of boundless licence, and joined the Crusade. Every man wore the sign of the cross upon his shoulder, cut in red cloth, and many adventurers assumed that sacred emblem in the beUef that it would afford a perpetual absolution for any crime they might commit. But while prep.^ring for the departure of the various expe- ditions, the Crusaders — even those of the most reckless cha- racter — abstained for a while from violence, and kept the Truce of God. This cessation of civil warfare must have endured some time, for among the wild spirits who joined the first body of the Crasade few, if any, lived to return, and the removal of so many plunderers and marauders must • Tho word Paynim, or Pagan, wu commonly used in the Middle Agea to Inolnde all Mahometana, have produced a beneficial effect on the state of society in Europe. People of every degree and of various nations were ani- mated with the same ardent enthusiasm. Nobles sold or mortgaged their lands to raise money for the enterprise ; poor men abandoned their homesteads and their families, and flocked to the standard of the cross. The old writers describe the sufferings occasioned by the parting of husbands from their wives, parents from their children. They teH us, however, of exceptions to these scenes of misery. Some wives and mothers there were who, in their fanatic zeal, animatetl their husbands to the journey, and parted from them without a tear. In the year 1096, the first body of the Crusaders set out for the Holy Land under the command of Gautier sans avoir, or Walter the Penniless, a nobleman of Burgundy. This man was a soldier of fortune, noted for his poverty, but also possessed of some degree of military fame. The anny which he led was a mixed rabble without order or disci- pline, who committed many e-xccsses, and plundered the towns and villages which lay on their road. Amongst the other chiefs were Walter di Pesejo, Gottschalk, and William the Carpenter. Passing through Germany, Walter entered Hungary, which country had been converted to Christianity several centuries before. At Semlin some stragglers of Walter's army were attacked and plundered by a portion of the inhabitants, and the arms and crosses of the men who had thus been despoiled were placed as trophies upon the walls of the city. The Crusaders called for vengeance; but Walter restrained then: impe- tuosity, and passed on into Bulgaria. Here he found himself among a nation altogether hostile ; the gates of the cities were shut against him, and his troops were unable to obtain food. Urged by hunger, they seized the flocks and herds of the natives, who attacked the invaders, and defeated them with great slaughter. Walter succeeded with great difficulty in collecting the remnant of his scattered ijaulti- tude, and led them on the way to Constantinople. Here, after many privations, he at length arrived, and obtained permission from the emperor to await the arrival of Peter the Hermit. Meanwhile there advanced over the plains of Germany ' a wild, disorganised multitude of all nations and languages. Men, women, and children were there ; for women had at length been impelled by the fatal enthusiasm of the time, or by some equally powerful motive, to throw off the timidity of their sex, and to share the dangers of their husbands and their sons. Infants of tender age accompanied their parents, and the old and infirm dragged their weary steps in the rear.* At the head of this multitude, which numbered forty thousand persons, rode Peter the Hermit, pointing, with outstretched arms, the way to Jerusalem. The march to the southern part of Hungary was conducted without much disturbance or violence ; but when the Crusaders arrived befora Semlin, their anger was roused by the sight of the arms and crosses of Walter's followers, displayed in triumph on the walls. A furious assault was made on the town, * "Who shall count," saya Guibert of Nogent, "the children and the in- firm, the old men and young maidens, who pressed forward to the fight, not with the hope of aiding, but for the sake of the crown of martyrdom to be won from the aworda of the ln£del ? " 120 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OV ENGLAND. lnU(i. which was takea by the troops of the cross, and 7,000 Hungarians were killed or made prisoners. Then Peter learnt, for the first time, that the passions which had been excited by his eloquence defied the control of the same power, and that he was utterly without authority in the midst of his reckless followers. For several days the cap- tured city was the scene of every kind of licentiousness, and neither the property of the inhabitants nor the honour of the women was spared by the conquering troops. The news of the fall of Semlin being conveyed to Car- loman. King of Hungary, he immediately marched a large force to the southern frontier. Peter retreated before the Hungarian army, and effected the passage of the Sive with considerable loss, a party of native Bulgarian troops having advanced to oppose him. the causes of the conflict which he saw raging around. He negotiated successfully with the duke, and peace was on the point of being restored, when a portion of the hermit's undisciplined army made an attack upon the city, and were repulsed with heavy loss. The conflict then became general, and resulted in the total defeat of the Crusading troops. Peter himself escaped with difficulty, and took refuge among the mountains. For many days he wandered about alone, oppressed with grief for the fate of the expedition, and despairing of the future. At length he met with some of his knights, who retained more courage and energy than their leader ; and, with their assistanee, a portion of the scattered forces of the cross was gathered together. Peter oace more placed himself at the head of the troops, The Army of Peter tUo Hermit. Tlie hermit now led his army in the direction of Nissa, which was occupied by the Duke of Bulgaria with a con- siderable force. With a prudence which in their case was exceptional, the Crusaders here abstained from any attempt at violence, and the duke in return permitted his subjects to supply them with necessaries. These peaceful relations ■were maintained until the moment of departure of the hermit's army, when some German stragglers, who had engaged in a dispute with some Bulgarian merchants, set fire to several dwellings and warehouses without the walls of .the town. Aroused to vengeance, the troops of the garrison rushed . out upon the rear of Peter's army, and put to the sword indiscriminately all who opposed them, carrying off many ■women and cliililren as prisoners. Peter turned back, and, with a degree of calmness and -.wisdom which doe? honour to his memory, inquired into and, with renewed vigour, hastened on towards Constan- tinople. At every step the hermit received re-enforcements from the fugitive bauds of his followers ; and the news of his approach having reached Constantinople, the Emperor Alexius sent deputies to meet the Crusaders, and assist them in procuring provisions. At Philippopoli Peter addressed an eloquent appeal to the people, which was attended with such success that the wants of the army were abundantly supplied. After reposing for a while from the fatigues and priva- tions they had undergone, the Crusaders, now numbering neaily 30,000 men, set out for Constantinople. Here they at length arrived, and efl'ected a junction with the troops of Walter the Penniless. ' The discordant elements of which these combined forces were composed sooa appeared, in a defiance of all authority.* A.T) low.] LAWLESS CONDUCT OP THE CRUSADERS. 12X and between the various nations a spirit of animosity arose, which found vent in repeated quarrels and disturbances. The thirst for plunder, also, was not restrained by any found means to convey his dangerous allies across the Bos- phorus, advising them not to quit their new encamp-nent till the arrival of other divisions of the Crusade. The The thirst for plunder, also, was noi restraiueu uj au^ , u.n ^..c ...w.»i ^. .^.-..^^ ^„.^,.^^^ „. — -— gry.titude for the hospitality of the emperor. Alexius had , troops, however, still continued their ravages throughout seat potn money and provisions in abundance to the camp Bithynia ; a stronger hand than that of a palmer was Bird's-eye View of Christian Constantinople.-From .in Engravisg in the Impenum Orimtale of Anselmi Bandoii.-Paris, ITIJ. of the Crusaders, who, nevertheless, seized whatever booty came within their re.ich ; entering dwelling-houses and palaces, and even stripping the lead from the roofs of the churches, and selling it to the people from whom it had been stolen, 'fhese lawless acts continuing on the increase, the emperor 11 necessary to control them ; and Peter, wearied with tVe sight of excesses which he was unable to prevent, pro- ceeded to Constantinople for the purpose of holding a council with the emperor. During his absence the Lombards and Germans separated from the French, and chose for their leader a man named 122 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. Ta.-d. 109() Renault, or Rinaldo. Under his command, they resumed | their inarch, and took possession of the fortress of Xerigord. iiere they were attacked by Sultan Soliman, who cut to Lieces a detachment placed in ambuscade, and then invested xLi! fortress. The besieged possessed no supply of water within the walls, and tliey endured the most dreadful agonies from thirst. At the end of eight days, the leader, Rinaldo, with his chief companions, went over to the Turks, and betrayed the fortress into their hands. The remainder of the garrison were put to death without mercy. The news of this disaster reached the French camp, and with it came a false report of the fall of Nicsea. The troops demanded to be led towards the Turkish territory, and Walter the Penniless, having iu vain attempted to restrain their impatience, placed himself at their head. Before the army had advanced many leagues into the country, it was encountered by the Turks, who attacked the Crusaders in overwhelming numbers. An obstiuate resistance only served to make the carnage more complete. Walter him- self, after performing many feats of valour, fell covered with wounds, and the Christian army was routed so com- pletely, that only 3,000 men escaped the sword. The fugitives entrenched themselves at Civitot, where they were again attacked by a large force. The Turks surrounded the fortress with piles of wood, with the inten- tion of destroying the garrison by fire, but the Crusaders, seizing a moment when the wind blew towards the Turkisli camp, set fire to the wood themselves, aud many of their enemies perished in the flames. Meanwhile a soldier had made his escape from the town, and haviug reached Constantinople, told the news of these disasters to Peter the Hermit, At the prayer of Peter, the Emperor Alexius sent forces to rescue the garrison of Civitot, and the remnant of the army of the cross was brought iu safety to Constantinople. On their arrival, however, Alexius commanded them to disperse and return to their own country, aud he bought from each man his arms ; thus at once depriving him of the means of violence, and supplying him with money for the journey. This policy on the part of the emperor has given rise to an accusation against him of having betrayed the cause of the cross, aud entered into an alliance with the Turks. No such motive is necessary to account for the conduct of Alexius. He would necessarily be glad to purge his do- miuious from a number of lawless vagabonds, who com- mitted every species of iiiifiuity under the name of a holy cause, and who, as his allies, were more to be dreaded thau the Turks his enemies. While the expedition of Peter the Hermit thus came to an end, other bands of fanatics and adventurers were fol- lowing on his steps, without being destined to reach so far as Constantinople. The accounts of these expeditions are necessarily ob.-cure ; but the information we possess on the subject is not of a kind to induce a desire for further details. It is rel.itod that a multitude of 200,000 persons, without even a nominal leader, passed through Germany towards the south of Europe. Their course was marked by excesses of every kind ; men and women lived in a state of de- bauchery, and indulged in drunken orgies, obtaining supplies by plundering the surrounding country. Every Jew who fell into their hands was put to death, and the fanatic multitude declared it to be t!;o will of Heaven that they should extermiuate the jjation who had rejected the Saviour. A terrible retribution, however, was at hand, and tlui sacred emblem of the cross was purified from the status with which it had been covered by the perpetrators of these enormities. At Merseburg, a large Hungarian force opposed the advancing multitude, who attacked trhat city with fury. A breach had been made in the walls, and the fall of Merse- burg seemed inevitable, when some strange and sudden terror, which Las never been accounted for, seized the besieging army, and they gave up the attack, aud fled in dismay over the country. The Hungarians pursued them on every side, and mowed them down by hundreds. Day after day the work of slaughter weni on, until the fields were strewed with corpses and the Danube was red with blood. Such was the fate of the first bands of Crusaders who set out towards the Holy Land. More than a quarter of a million persous had already perished by famine or disease, or by the swords of the Turks or Hungarians, whose vengeance they had excited by acts of violence and plunder. Meanwhile many powerful princes of the West were occu- pied in collecting troops and preparing to take the field. Among these were Godfrey of Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine ; Hugh, Count of Vermandois, and brother of Philip, King ot Franco ; Robert, Duke of Normandy ; Boheraond, Prince of Tarentum ; Robert, Count of Flanders ; and Rairaond, Count of Toulouse ; each of whom conducted an army towards Constantinople. Among the leaders of the first Crusade, the most distin- guished name is that of Godfrey VI., Lord of Bouillon, Marquis of Anvers, and Duke of Brabant. Inferior in political power to some of his companions, he was superioi to them ail in that influence which depends upou personal character. Although still young iu years, he had earned fame in many a well-fought field ; and his name was known throughout Europe in connection with many acts of private virtue no less than with gallant feats of arms. Amidst the cruelty and licentiousness so commonly attributed to the men ot that age, the character of Godfrey is presented to us almost without blemish ; and if we make a certain re- servation for the partiality of monkish chroniclers towards the great leader of the Crusade, there will still remain evi- deuce of facts which entitle the memory of the Lord of Bouillon to the highest honour with posterity. Robert the Monk, one of his contemporaries, who was present at the siege of Jerusalem, speaks of Godfrey iu the following terms: — "He was of beautiful countenance, tall of stature, agreeable in his discourse, of excellent morals, and at the same time so gentle that he seemed better fitted for the monk than for the knight ; but when his enemies appeared before him, and the combat was at hand, his soul became filled with a nu'ghty daring: like a lion, he feared not for his own person ; and what shield, what buckler, could withstand the fall of his sword ? " Long before the Crusade had been preached at Clermont, Godfrey had heard the tales of the sufferings of the Chris- tians in Palestine, and had said that he desired to travel to Jerusalem, not with .scrip and staff, but with spe.ir and shield. At the time when the standard of the cross was raised throutilation. Their eyes were torn out and their noses cut off. Juliana, their mother, driven to madness by this act of cruelty, watched an opportunity, and discharged an arrow at the breast of her father. Her aim, however, was unsteady ; the shaft took no effect, and Henry caused his daughter to be sub- jected to a humiliating punishment. The battle of Brenneville was followed by a treaty of peace, which was arranged, by the intervention of the Pope Calixtus, between Louis and Henry. By this treaty, the interests of 'William Fitz-Robert were entirely set aside, and the whole of the duchy of Normandy was to remain in the hands of Henry, whose son William was to render homage to Louis for the possession of the duchy. By this means the King of England evaded declaring himself a vassal of the King of France — an act which, as Duke of Normandy, he was called upon to perform. Henry carried his son William into Normandy, where he received his first arms, and was acknowledged as King Henry's successor by the barons. He also obtained the hand of the daughter of Fulk of Aujou. The bride was a child of twelve years old, and the princs had but just pissed his eighteenth year. These various matters being accom- plished, and peace established on a tolerably secure footing. King Henry prepared to return to England, (a.d. 1120.) The fleet was assembled ali, Barfleur, and at the moment ■when the king was about to embark, a man named Thomas Fitz-Stephen advanced to speak with him, and, offering a mark of gold, said, " Stephen, the son of Erard, my father, served all his life thy father by sei, and he steered the vessel which carried the duke to the conquest of England. ]\Iy lord the king, I pray the3 to appoint r;s to the same office. I have a ship called La Blanche-Ncf* which is well rigged and fully manned." The king answered that, as regarded himself, the choice of a ship was already made, but that he would entrust the petitioner with the care of his two sons and his daughter, with the nobles and attendants of their train. The vessel in which Henry embarked then set sail with a fair wind, and reached the English coast in safety on the following morning. On board the Bhuiche-Nef were the prince, his half-brother, Richard, and their sister, the Lady Marie, or Adela, Countess of Perche, with other nobles of England and Normandy, to the number of 110 persons, besides fifty sailors. Before setting sail, three casks of wine were distributed among the crew by the prince's order ; and several hours were spent carousing, during which many of the crew drank themselves " out of their wits." After night- fall, and when the moon had risen brightly, the vessel left her moorings, and proceeded with a soft and favourable breeze along the coast. Fifty skilful rowers propelled her on her way, and the helm was held by Fitz-Stephen. The sailors, excited by wine, pulled stoutly, so as to overtake the vessel of the king, when suddenly they fouud themselves cntanglcfl among some rocks off Barfleur, then called the Ras de Catte, and now known as the Ras de Catteville. The Blanche-Nef struck on one of the rocks, and immedi- ately began to fill. The cry of terror which broke from the • 27ie WhiU Skip. startled revellers passed through the calm night air, and reached the king's ship at a distance of several miles. Those who beard it, however, httle suspected its meaning, and passed ©u their way unconscious of the catastrophe whieh had taken place so near to them. As the sbip staruok, the stout-hearted captain hastily lowered a boat, and placing the prince with a few of his friends therein, entreated him to make for the shore without delay. The devotion of Fitz-Stephen was, however, without avail. William heard the screams of his sister Marie, who had been left on board the vessel, and he commanded the boat to be put back to save her. Whea the order was obeyed, the terrified passengers threw themselves into the boat in such numbers, that the frail bark was immediately upset, and all who were in it perished. In a few" moments more the ship was also engulfed beneath the waters. The only trace which remained of the wreck was the main-yard, to which two men clung with the tenacity of despair; one of these was a butcher of Rouen, named Berauld, and the other a young man of higher bii-th, named Godfrey, the sou of Gilbert de I'Aigle. Fitz-Stephen, the captain, after falling into the water, rose to the surfice, and swam towards the two men who were clinging to the spar. "The king's son!" he cried, " what has become of him ? " " We have seen nothing of him," was the reply ; " neither he nor any of his companions have appeared above water." "Woe is me!" the captain exclaimed, and immediately sank to rise no more. It was in the month of December, and the coldness of the water fast numbed the limbs of the younger of the two survivors. King H'jnry bewailing the Loss of liis Children. Froman Illu:n'.iia- tion engi-aved in "Strutt's Ecclesiastical Antiquities." who at length let go his hold, and committing his companion to the mercy of Heaven, disappeared beneath the waves. Berauld, the butcher, the poorest of all those wdio had se$ sail in the Blanche-Nef, was the cnly one who survived ta tell the story of the shipwreck. Wrapped in his sheepskin coat, he supported himself until daybreak, when he was s?en by some fishermen, who rescued him from his perilous situa- tion. This occurred Nov. 26, a.d. 1120. The news reached England on the following day, but no man dared to tell the kJn;j of his bereavement. At length 1121.] MARraAGE OF MATILDA AND GEOFFREY PLANTAGENET. 1-01 the courtiers tutored a little boy, wlio was seat in to thi king, aad, falling at his feet, told him of the loss of the Blanche-Nef, with all ou board. Heary is said to have fainted at the news, and the historians agree in dwelling upon the grief he felt— a grief so rooted that he was never afterwards seen to smile. The Euglish people appear to have regarded the ship- ■wreok as a judgment of Heaven upon the vices of the prince and the cruelties of his father. This view was strengthened by the circumstance that the disaster took place, not in a storm, but on a calm sea and under a tranquil sky. The character of Prince AVilliam is represented by the chroni- clers as that of a tyrannical and licentious youth. He is said to have detested the people from whom his own mother ■was descended, and to have declared that when he became king he would bend the necks of the Saxons to the plough, and treat them like beasts of burden. " The proud youth 1 " .says Henry of Huntingdon, a contemporary writer ; "he ■was anticipating his future reign, but God said, ' Not so, thou impious one ; it shall not be.' And thus it happened, that his brow, instead of being encircled with a crown of gold, was dashed against the rocks of the ocean." It is possible, however, that the historians gave too much im- portance to the light words of a heedless youth, and we may well be cautious in covering with infamy the name of one, the last and best authenticated act of whose life was at least noble and generous. On the death of Prince William, the Earl of Anjou sent messengers to Henry, demanding back his daughter Matilda, together with the dowry which had been given to the king on her marriage. Henry wilUngly consented to the return of the princess to her father, but refused to give up any part of the money. Fulk was thus furnished with a prete.'ct for renewing his former connection with William of Normandy, on whose future prospects the death of his cousin might exercise considerable influence. The son of Duke Robert was placed by Fulk in possession of the earldom of Mans, and was again betrothed to Sibylla, the younger daughter of the earl. Henry, who was fully apprised of these proceed- ings, passed over into Normandy, and, after a year of desultory warfiire, he made prisoners several of the chief Norman barons, and detached Fulk of Anjou once more from the cause of William. In the year 1121, while Henry was still engaged in this ■war, he married Alice, Adelais, or Adelicia, daughter of Geoffrey, Duke of Louvain, and nearly related to the Pope Calixtus II. The new queen was "a lady of excellent beauty" and young, but no children resulted from the marriage, and Henry found himself compelled to resign the hope of leaving an heir male to his crown. In 1126 his daughter Matilda became a widow, by the death of her husband, Henry V. of Germany, and the king then deter- mined to appoint her his successor to the throne of England and the dukedom of Normandy. Since the time of the ancient Britons, no female sovereign had borne rule in England, and the native English, as well as the Normans, were altogether opposed to a scheme whose object was to place them under the government of a woman. The power of Henry was, however, so firmly estabhshed that the barons, who murnaured in secret, did not dare openly to resist his will. Those among them who had the greatest influence were conciliated by grants of land ; the assistance of the clergy was already secured; and on Chribtmas Day, a.d. 1126, a general assembly of the nobles and higher ecclesiastics of the kingdom was convened at Wi'adsor Castle, for the purpose of declaring the Empress Matilda (as she was still called) the legitimate successor to the throne. The clergy and the Norman barons of both countries unanimously swore allegiance to her, in the event of the king's death. Several disputes as to precedence took place on the occasion, and one of these was remarkable as having an importance beyond the mere question of court etiquette. Robert, Earl of Gloucester, who was an illegiti- mate son of the king, demanded to take the oath before Stephen, Earl of Boulogne, who was the son of Adela, the daughter of the Conqueror, and therefore nephew to Henry. It is probable that both of these men aspired to the throne, and that, while in the act of taking vows which they had no intention of performing, each was anxious to have his rank and standing determined. The legitimate birth of Stephen pi'svailed over the nearer relationship of Robert, and the Earl of Boulogne first took the oaths to maintain the suc- cession of Matilda. In the same year (1126) Fulk, Count of Anjou, departed for the Holy Land, having first placed the government of his country in the hands of his son Geoflrey, suruamed Plante-Geuest, or Plantagenet, from his custom of bearing on his helmet a sprig of yellow broom instead of a feather. The young Count of Anjou is described as possessing elegant and courtly manners, a noble person, and a reputa- tion for gallantry in the field. These qualities recommended him to the favour of King Henry, who personally invested him with the order of knighthood. The ceremony took place at Rouen with great pomp, and the king, according to the custom of chivalry, presented lais son-in-arms with a horse and a splendid suit of armour. The Euglish king had frequently had cause to dread tha opposition of the House of Anjou, and therefore he was induced, not less by motives of policy than by his regard for Geoffrey, to conclude an alUance with that powerful family. He determined that his daughter Matilda should wed the Count of Anjou. The marriage was concluded without the knowledge of the barons, who afterwards declared their dis- approval of it, and many of them made it a pretext for breaking the oath of allegiance which they had taken to the ex-erapress. The marriage was celebrated in Rouen on August 26, a.d. 1127, aud the festival, which was marked with all the splendour which the wealth of Henry could command, was prolonged during three weeks. On the first day heralds went about the streets commanding in the king's name that all men whatsoever should take part in the festivities, and that any man neglecting to make merry on the joyful) occasion should be considered guilty of an offence again^ the king. Meanwhile, William of Normandy had o'otained a posi- tion of power and influence which gave Henry great un- easiness. When Fulk of Anjou abandoned his connection with the son of Robert, the cause of the latter was still up- held by Louis, King of France. Charles the Good, Earl of Flanders, the successor of Baldwin, was murdered by his own people while attending a service of the church in Bruges, and king Louis gave that county to William. The Flemings, who at first received their new earl without opposition, broke out into revolt after the departure of the Fi'ench king, and sent to ask the support of Henry. 162 CASSELLS ILLUSTRATED HISTOUY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1105.- William, hoivever, was not v/ithout supporters, and his personal gallautry, joioed to high military taleats, gave him the victory over the iasurgents in various encounters. His career, however, was destined to be short ; iu an engage- ment under the walls of Alost, in which he completely defeated his opponents, the son of Robert received a wound on the heal, which proved fatal within a few days after- wards. He died on the 27th July, 1128, at the age of twenty-six. Heury was thus relieved from auy dread of the proten- The last years of Henry's life were embittered by theso dissensions in his family, and his health rapidly declined. In the year 1135, ho received news of an iacuriion of tha \Velsh, and while preparations were making for his return to England he was seized with a sudden illness. Having passed a day iu hunting at Lions-la-Foret, in Normandy, he supped -late in the evening upon a dish of lampreys, of which he was remarkably fond. An indigestion, which resulted in a fever, was the consequence of this indulgence,, and three days afterwards he expired (December 1,a.d. 1135}, ,>^o$^c^-^ fions of his nephew, and he passed over into Normandy, where he remained for several years in the society of his daughter. In 1133, JLatilda gave birth to a son, who was namcfl Henry, and who afterwards reigned iu England with the title of Henry 11. Subsequently two other sons, named Geoffrey and AVilUam, were the fruit of this marriage. On the birth of his grandson, tiis king again endeavourel to secure to his race the succession to the throne by causing the barons once more to swear fealty to Matilda and to her children. During Henry's stay in Normandy, various quarrels took place between the ex-empress and her hus- band, and the king had great difficulty in keeping the peace between them. It would appear that Matilda seiz.'d every opportunity of prejudicing her father against her husband, who was exasperated at the king's refusal to place him in immediate possession of Normandy. His body was afterwards conveyed to Reading Abbey, which he had himself founded, and was therj buried. CHAPTER XL. Accession of Stephen— A new Cliarter pissod -Conspiracy among the Nobles — Battle of tlie .StaiiiiarJ— Landing; of Matil-U — rni;.risonnicnt of Stci^lieil. The exertions made by Henry Boauclcrc to preserve to his daughter the succession to the throne proved altogether fruitless, and those solemn vows which he had exacted from the barons, and with which he had endeavoured to fence about the cause of Matilda, were of no avail. No sooner did the news of the king's death re.ach Stephen of Blois, than he instantly took measures for seizing upon the English crown. Allusion has already been njade to this ambitious noble, who, on taking the oaths of fealty to Matilda, had caused himself to be recognised as the first prince of the blood. A.D. 1135.] ACCESSION OF STEniEN. 163 Stephen, Count of Blois, to whom WiUiam the Conqueror the Church, was made Abbot of Glastonbury, and subse gave his daughter A.lela in inarriage, had several sons. Two quently appointed to the see of Winchester. Steph..-! of these Heury and Stephen, had been invited to England ! received the hand of Maud, daughter and heiress of Eustace, \ Tlio liattlo of the Standard. (See page IGO.) by the late king, wlio had bestowed great favour and prefer- ment upon them. B?anelerc, cruel towards his enemies, was a firm and generous friend to those who happened to obtain his good-wiU. Young Henry, who had been educated for the Count of Boulogne. The connection was in tha highest degree advantageous to Stephen. Immense estates in Eng- land, as well as the earldom of Boulogne, came to him in right of his wife, who. moreover, possessed a hold upon the 16i CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND, [A.D. 1135. jympathies of the English in cccsequenoe of her Saxon descent. Mary, his wife's mother, was the sisii? of David, King of Scotland, and of Matilda the Good, first wife of Heury I., and mother of the empress. At the time of the dispute with Robert of Gloucester on the subject of precedence, Stephen professed that his grati- tude to the king impelled him to be the first to offer alle- giance to JlatilJa ; but his whole course of action at thi? perioJ shows that his designs upon the English crown were fully matured. He exerted himself to attain popularity among the people, as well as among the barons. His daring and gallantry secured him the admiration of the Normans, while his affable and f;imiliar manners, joined to a generosity without stint, obtained the affections of the people. On the death of Henry, Stephen landed in England before the news could reach Matilda ; and though the gates of Dover and Canterbury were shut against him, he passed on without hesitation to London, where a ma- jority of the people saluted him king with acclamations. By the assistance of his brother, the Bishop of Winchester, Stephen obtained possession of the royal treasure in that city, amounting to £100,000 in money, besides considerable stores of plate and jewels. The next step was to secure the goodwill and co-operation of the clergy ; and in this respect his brother, the bishop, again tendered his aid. Roger, Bishop of Sarum, chief functionary of the kingdom, was secured by bribes and promises, and these two ecclesiastics endeavoured to prevail upon William, Archbishop of Canter- bury, to administer the royal unction to the usurper. The primate, who was a conscientious man, refused consent, and a dishonourable expedient was then resorted to, to overcome his opposition. Hugh Bigod, steward of the royal house- hold, presented himself before the archbishop, and swore that King Henry, on his death-bed, had disinherited his daughter Matilda, who had offended him, and that he had appointed his nephew, Stephen, to succeed him as the in- heritor of his kingdom. These oaths, which were common in the Middle Ages, and which were so little real security when opposed to personal interests, were, nevertheless, regarded nominally as of con- siderable weight ; and a pretext was, therefore, necessary for absolving the clergy and the barons from their vows of allegiance to Matilda. This was supplied by Roger of Sarum, who declared that those vows were null and void, bi'causo the empress had been married out of the country without the consent of the lords, who ha 1 expressly stipu- lated that their opinion should be consulted in the disposal of the hand of their future queen. Silver Penny of Stephen. The scTsral obstacles being thus overcome or set aside, the Archbishop of Canterbury crownoi Stephen (December 26, A.D. 1135) at Westminster. Very few nobles attended the ceremony, but there was no show of opposition. The first act of the new king was to proceed to Reading to attend the burial of his uncle, and from thence he passed on to Oxford, where he held court, and summoned thither a council of the prelates and clergy of the kingdom, whom he required to swear allegiance to him. He permitted the clergy to annex to their oaths an important condition, to the effect that they swore to support his government only so long as he should maintain the rights and liberties of the Church. The barons also obtained the right of fortifying castles upon their estates. These concessions to the Church secured the favour of the Pope, Innocent II., who soon afterwards sent letters to Stephen, confirming his title to the throne. The words of the Pontiff were as follows : — " We have heard that thou r \ p y- nnotentui c^x •^oLc^ Signature and Seal of Innocent 11. hast been chosen by the common voice and will of the people and of the lords, and that thou hast received a blessing fi-om the ministers of the Church. Considering that the choice of so large a number of men must have been directed by Divine grace, and that, moreover, thou art closely related to the deceased king, we are well pleased with the course taken in thy behalf; and we receive thee with paternal affection as a son of the blessed Apostle Peter, and of the holy Roman Church." Still further to secure his position, Stephen passed a charter closely resembling that issued under similar cbcum- stiinocs by his predecessor. He endeavoured to conciliate all the estates of the realm : to the clergy he promised that vacant benefices should immediately be filled up, and that their revenues should in no case be applied to the purposes of the crown ; to the nobility he pledged his word that the royal forests which Henry Beauclerc had appropriated to himself should be restored to their ancient boundaries ; and to the people he eng.iged to remit the tax of Danegelt, and to restore the laws of King Edward. Stephen also made lavish gifts of money and lands to those about him, and during the first jear of his reign the land rejoiced once more in plenty and prosperity. " To such means," saya Ilolinshed, " .are princes driven that attain to their estates more through f;ivour and support of others than by any good right or title which they may pretend of themselves. AD. 1136.T INCURSION 01'' DAVID, KING OF SCOTLAND. 165- Thus the government of this prince at the beginning was nothing bitter or haughty to his subjects, but full of gentle- ness, lenity, courtesy, and mildness." Matilda and her husband Geoffrey experienced no better fortune in Normandy than in England. The Norman nobility were influenced by the same reasons as formerly, in desiring a continuance of their union with the crown of England ; while, at the same time, an hereditary animosity existed between them and the people of Anjou. When Geoffrey Plantagenet entered Normandy for the purpose of enforcing the rights of his wife Matilda, the Normans applied for assistance to Theobald of Blois, eldest brother of Stephen (a.d. 1136). As soon as Stephen obtained possession of the English throne, they transferred their allegiance to liim, and put him in possession of the govern- ment of the duchy. The homage which, as feudal sovereign, was due to Louis VII., ICiug of France, he accepted from Eustace, Stephen's eldest son, instead of from the English king himself; and Louis also betrothed his sister Constantia In proportion as the privileges of the nobles were ex- tended, the condition of the people became once more one of oppression and misery. Petty wars broke out among the rival barons, who made incursions into each others' terri- tories, and practised unbounded rapine upon the towBS and villages. Some of the more powerful chiefs declared that; the promises made to them by Stephen on his accession had not been fulfilled ; and they seized various parts of the royal estates, which t.hey asserted were their due. Among. these was Hugh Bigod, whose act of perjury had se- cured the coronation of Stephen, and who now revolted openly against the king, and took possession of NorwicI' Castle. Tlie insurgents had not yet learned to aco in concert, and' Stephen soon recovered the estates which Lad been seized. The spirit of sedition, however, v.-as not repressed ; new- disturbances were continually taking place, and the country- remained in a state of anarchy. In the year 1137, Robert, Earl of Gloucester, having Great Seal of Stephen, to the young prince. The Count of Blois consented to resign his claim for a yearly pension of 2,000 marks, and Geuffrey of Anjou was compelled to conclude a truce of two years with Stephen, receiving, also, a pension of 5,000 marks. Robert of Gloucester, the natural son of Henry, enter- tained the strongest feeUugs of hostility to Stephen. He appears, however, to have directed his efforts against the usurper rather in support of the claims of his sister, Matilda, than of any pretensions of his own. On the elevation of Stephen to the throne, Robert found it necessary to take the oath of allegiance, since a refusal to do so would have resulted in the loss of his estates in England, and of that power which he proposed to use in his sister's behalf. He therefore offered to do homage on condition that the kin|[ fulfilled all his promises, and never invaded any of the rights of Robert. Thus a pretext was afforded for revolt at any moment, and the Earl of Gloucester, who was a man of considerable abilities and military reputation, occupied him- self in promoting a spirit of disaffection among the nobles. The right which the English barons had obtained of erecting fortified castles was exercised to the utmost. Strong for- tresses rapidly arose in all parts of the kingdom, and were garrisoned Tfith licentious soldiery, native and foreign. organised an extensive confederacy, quitted his estates, and having crossed the Channel, sent to the king a formal letter of defiance. Other great barons also, on the ground that the promises made to them had not been fulfilled, renounced their homage, and retired to their strongholds, ^tephen displayed at this crisis the higuest valour and activity, and a desultory warfare took place between the king and his disaffected nobles. In March, a.d. 1138, David, King of Scotland, crossed the Tweed at the head of an army which he had collected, from every part of his kingdom, to defend the title of his niece, Matilda. The chroniclers describe the Scotch army as a wild and barbarous multitude, many of whom, gathered from the recesses of the highlands, were men fierce and untutored, half clad, and with only the rudest weapons of war. Tliis undisciplined host passed through Northumber- land into Yorkshire, devastating the country, and com- mitted unheard-of barbarities upon the miserable in- habitants. It is related of them that they behaved after the manner of wild beasts, slaying all who came in their way, sparing neither old age in its helplessness, nor beauty in its spring, nor the infant in the womb. The fury of these massacres exasperated the northern 1S6 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOUY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1138. nobility, who might otherwise have been disposed to join the King of Scotland. Thurstan, Archbishop of York, au a"ed man, seemed to derive new youth from the crisis which demanded the exertion of his energies. He shook off the weight of years, and, organising an army, he earnestly ex- horted the barons and the soldiers to defend their country- men from the ravages of the invaders. William, Earl of Mbemarle, Eoger Jlowbray, Robert de Ferrers, William Piercy, AValter L'Espec, and others of their compeers assembled their troops, and encamped at Elfer-tun, now called Northallerton, about half-way between York and Durham, and there awaited the arrival of the enemy. The advance of the Scots had been so rapid that Stephen, who was occupied with repressing the rebellion in the south, had no time to reach the scene of action. The Scottish army, the first division of which was led by Prince Henry, sou of David, crossed the Tees in several divisions, bearing as a standard a lance, to which was fixed a bunch of the " blooming heather." They did not form, as was the case with more disciplined armies, distinct bodies of horse aud foot, but each man brought to the field of battle such arms as he could obtain. With the exception of the French or Norman knights whom the King of Scot- land brought with him, and who were armed, cap-a-pie, with complete suits of mail, the great mass of his soldiers displayed a disorderly equipment. The men of Galloway and other parts cf the west wore no defensive armour, and bore long and sharp pikes or javelins as their only weapon. The inhabitants of the lowlands, who formed the chief part of the infantry, were armed with spears and breastplates ; while the highlanders, who "wore a bonnet adorned with plumes, aud a plaid cloak fastened at the waist by a leathern belt, appeared in the fight with a small wooden shield on the left arm, while in the right hand they bore the claymore or broad sword. The chiefs wore the same armour as their soldiers, from whora they were only distinguished by the length of their puunes, The Anglo-Norman barons, anxious to invoke on their behalf the ancient siiperstit ons of the English, caused the banners of St. Cuthbert of Ii--rham, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfrid of Ripon, to be brought from the churches in which they had remained since the time of the Con- queror, and erected them in the midst of the camp. The mast of a ship was set up in a car with four wheels ; at the top of the mast was fixed a crucifix, attached to which was a silver box, containing the sacramental wafer, or eucharist, and round it were hung the banners of the three English saints. This standard, froui which the battle has taken its name, was erected in the centre of the position. The knights of the English army were ranged beside it, having first sworn to remain united, and to defend the sacred symbol to the death. The Archbishop of York, who was prevented by illness from appearing in the field, sent a representative in the person of Rauulpb, Bishop of Durham, who, as the Scots were heard approaching, placed himself at the foot of the staiulard and read the prayer of absolution, the whole army kneeling before him. The attack was made by the men of Galloway, who rushed impetuously on the English infantry, and broke their ranks ; the cavalry, however, remained firm round their stan''ard, and repulsed the charges of 'ibe Scots with great slaughter. Meanwhile the bowniazi of Yoricshire and Lincolnshire rallied from their confusion, and poured in flights of arrows upon the enemy, while the Norman knights, protected by their heavy armour, were receiving the attacks of the brave but un- disciplined natives of the north. The Scots maintained the contest for two hours, but at leugth they were thrown into confusion by a charge of the Norman cavalry, and were compelled to retreat as far as the Tyne. At the battk of Northallerton, which was fought on the 22nd August, A.D. 11S8, the loss of the Scots is stated to have been 12,000 men. Three days after this defeat, the King of Scotland arrived at Carlisle, where he rallied his scattered forces, and subse- quently laid siege to AVark Castle, which fell into his bands. Notwithstanding the result of the Battle of the Standard, the counties of Cumberland, Westmoreland, and North- umberland remained for many years free from NormaQ dominion, and attached to the kingdom of Scotland. EfEgy of Kogor, Bishop of Sanmi, in the Nave of Salisbury Cathedral. Roger, Bishop of Sarum, the story of whose elevation tD the favour of Henry I. has been already related, was at this time possessed of vast wealth and influence in the kingdom. He was a munificent patron of the arts, and expended large A.D. 1130.J BATTLE OF LINCOLN. IM sums ia the erection of magnificent cliurches and other l)ublic -works. Architects, artists, and men of letters were secure of liis favour, and the wealth, which was often ob- tained by not the most honest means, was at least bestowed :ii a manner beneficial to the age in which he Uved. Roger 'aad rendered good seryice to Stephen at the time of his accession to the throne, and the king had rewarded him with repeated and valuable gifts. It would appear, how- ever, that these possessions were heaped upon the bishop less for his own use than with the view of being available for the royal purposes wheuever the king might choose to seize upon them. The nobles of the court had not witnes=>cd without envy the increasing power and magnificenoo of the Bishop of Sarum ; and at the time when Stephen was menaced by an invasion from the Continent, they circulated a report that the bishop was in league with the conspirators. The king, who wanted money, was glad of a pretext for seizing the possessions of Roger, and ordered him to be arrested, together with his two nephews, Alexander, Bishop of Lin- coln, and Nigel, Bishop of Ely. Nigel made his escape, and took refuge in the castle of Devizes, but Roger and Alexander were taken, and confined in separate dungeons. A quarrel which had previously taken place between some of the bishop's retainers and those of the Earl of Brittany, formed the ground of the chief accusation, which was that the bishops had violated the peace of the king within the limits of his court. Stephen demanded the surrender of all tlieir castles, as an atonement for the offence ; and, after considerable opposition on the part of the two bishops, the demand was generally complieel with. The Bishop of Ely, however, still refused to surrender the castle of Devizes ; and Stephen commanded that Roger and the Bishop of Lincoln should receive no food until the castle was given up. By the king's order Roger appeared, wasted with fasting, before the gales of Devizes, and implored his nephew to surrender , and, after a delay of three days, the Bishop of Ely at length yielded, to save the Uves of his relatives. f* ^ These proceedings excitert the utmost indignation among the prelates and clergy of the kingdom, and Henry, Bishop of "Winchester, who had been appointed legate of the Pope, cited his brother, the king, to appear before an ecclesiastical synod at Winchester, to answer for his conduct. Alberio de Vere attended before the council as the substitute of Stephen, and the bishops having persisted in demanding Reparation for the insult to the Church, De Vere appealed in the king's name to the Pope, and,' drawing hLs sword, declared the assembly to be dissolved. A series of disasters, wliicli soon after endangered the life ind the crown of Stephen, were, in a great measure, to be referred to this determined opposition to tlie clergy. The synod at Win- chester was held in September (a. d. 1139), and three months afterwards, Roger, Bishop of Sarum, died at an advanced age, his end having probably been accelerated by the mortifications h3 had suffered. On the 22nd of September, in the same year, the Empress Matilila landed in England, accompanied by Robert, Earl of Gloucester. The latter immediately proceeded with a small escort to the castle of Bristol, where he occupied himself in collecting his followers. Matilda was received into Arundel Castle by Adelais, widow of Henry I., who offered her protection. Stephen, having been a-p^rised of this circumstance, surprised the castle, and took both the- ladies prisoners. In pursuance of one of those chivalrous impulses of which the records of the Bliddle Ages afford sc many examples, the king caused I^lutilda to be escorted in safety to her brother Robert, and restored to Adelais the possession of her castle. A civil war now raged throughout the country. Th^ Norman race in England were immediately split up into two factions, and each man looked with distrust upon his neighbour, uncertain whether to regard him as a friend or an enemy. JIany of the barons of the west and north declared for JlatiJda, and recalled the oaths they had taken to Stephen ; while many of the more rapacious lords, to whom the iDublic good was a matter of no concern, kept aloof from both parties, and occupied themselves with seizing the property of the farmers and citizens. The chronicles of the time are filled with the atrocities which were committed at this period throughout the length and breadth of the land, which was desolated in every direction by violence and rapine. Stephen having failed in an attempt to take the town cf Bristol, which was strongly fortified, turned his forces to the east, where a formidable insurrection had broken out, headed by the Bishop of Ely. On the very spot where Hereward, the Saxon, had erected his fort of wood, a camp was formed by the Norman adherents of ^Matilda, who en- trenched themselves behind ramparts of stone and wood. Stephen conducted his attack in the same manner as had been done by William the Conqueror. He built bridges of boats, by which his soldiers passed over, and put to flight the troops of Nigel. The bishop fled to Gloucester, where Matilda had assem- bled the greater number of her adherents. During the absence of Stephen in the east, the flames of revolt were raging throughout the west, and churches as well as castles were fortified by the insurgents for the purposes of defence. The bishops are represented as having not scrupled to take part in these military operations : they were seen, as in the time of the Conqueror, mounted on chargei^s and clad in suits of mail, bearing a lance or a truncheon in their hands, directing the attacks of the soldiers, and drawing lots for a share of the booty.* In llil, Stephen displayed the utmost activity in march- ing against his enemies. After having crossed and recrossed the country, ho appeared before the castle of Lincoln, which was in the hands of the adherents of Matilda. The towns- people, however, favoured the king's cause, and, in opposi- tion to the garrison, assisted him to lay siege to the fortress. Meanwhile the Earl of Gloucester had collected an army of 10,000 men, and in the hope of effecting a surprise, marched rapidly to Lincoln, and appeared before the be- sieging troops. Stephen, however, had been apprised of his coming, and having drawn up his forces in battle array, placed himself at their head. The contest was unequal ; most of the royal cavalry deserted to the enemy, and, among the rest of the army, many of the troops wavered in their allegiance. In such a case defeat was inevitable. Stephen fought with desperate valour, but after haviog broken both his sword and battle-axe, he was made ijrisonir by the Earl of Gloucester. The Empress Matilda, forgetting the gscsrosity she had ♦GestaSlqpli. 168 CASSELL-3 ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 114L experienced at the hands of the king, ordered him to be /oaded -srith chains and imprisoned in the keep of Bristol Castle. This defeat was disastrous to the royal cause. Jlany of the Norman nobles and of the clergy, among whom was Henry of Winchester, the king's own brother, gave in their adhesioa to the cause of Matilda. The support of the bishop is said to have been gained by a promise blessing upon all who should follow her cause, and a curse on those who should oppose it. Having taken possession of the royal treasure which remained at Winchester, JNIatilda, after some delay, pro- ceeded to Loudon, where she arrived at midsummer. She was of Saxon descent, and the unhappy citizens, gi'oxind down by taxation, hoped to obtain from her some release Stephen t^sken Prisoner. (See page 167.) cn the part of the empress that he should be placed in the position of her chief minister, and should have the disposal of all the vacant benefices of the Church. On the day after this bargain was concluded, the grand- daughter of the Conqueror made her triiunphal entry into Winchester. She was received at the gates by Bishop Henry, at the head of the clergy, who conducted her to ike cathedral; and the brother of Stephen pronounced a of the burdens with which they were oppressed. But MatUda's good fortune soon rendered her disdainful asd arrogant ; and it is said by an old historian that when those men to whom she owed her elevation bowed down before her, slie did not rise from her throne, and their requests were frequently met by a refusal. It is, therefor3, scarcely matter for surprise that, when the citizens oJ London J entreated her to take pity on them, she answered with a A.D. 1141.] FLIGHT OF MATILDA FROM LO^"DO^^ 169 frown, and one of her first acts was to impose a heavy tax, or taillage, in addition to the burdens witn which they were already afflicted. The empress seems to have possessed a malignant nature, which found vent in injuries inflicted eq^ually on friends and enemies. Henry of Winchester, who may have felt some compunction at the part he had acted towards his brother, desired that his nephew Eustace, the son of Stephen, might be put in possession of his hereditary rights, one of which was the earldom of Boulogne ; Matilda replied to the request with an insulting denial. Many other acts of arrogance, as impolitic in a queen as they were dis- graceful in a woman, were exhibited towards her best friends ; and when the wife of Stephen, who was Matilda's own the attack, and not daring to risk a conflict where the ipim bers were so greatly against them, and which would nave to be carried on in narrow streets, where every advantage would , be on the side of their enemies — made no attempt at resist- ', ance, but hastily seized horses, and galloped off at full speed. Matilda had scarcely quitted the town, when the enraged populace forced their way into her apartments, and seized or destroyed whatever they found there. As the ex-empress sped on her way, the barons and knights who accompanied her one by one detached them- selves from the escort, and, consulting only their own safety, fled across the country, or along cross-roads, towards their strongholds. She arrived at Oxford with the Earl of The Empress Matilda and the Queen of Stephen. cousin, appeared in her presence, and entreated that her husband might be restored to liberty, the empress drove the sorrowing wife away in tears. CHAPTER XLI. Reign of Stephen continued — Flight of Matild.i from London— Release of Stephen — Siege of Oxford— Midnight Flight of Matild.a — Death of the Earl of Gloucester — Landing of Prince Henry — Truce between Henry and Slephea — Death of Stephen. Matilda was making ready for her coronation in perfect security, when a rising of the people, as sudden as it was unanimous, resulted in driving her from London in the utmost haste, and without even so much as a change of raiment. An alarm sounded from all the steeples of the City, and imme- diately every street was filled with an excited multitude of the people. From the doors of every house men came forth, armed with such weapons as they could procure. The empress and her Angevins* — startled by the suddenness of n ' rcople of Anjou. Gloucester and a few followers, whom motives of policy, or a regard for their knightly honoiu-, still held attached to her fortunes. The citizens of London attempted no pursuit of the fugitives. Their revolt appears to have been a sudden outbreak of popular indignation rather than the result of any preconcerted arrangement, and was not followed by any further measures of a similar kind. The Norman adherents of King Stephen soon afterwards re-entered London, and, having obtained the consent of the citizens, by the promise of an alliance with them, garrisoned the city with troops. The only privileges obtained by the citizens in consequence of the insurrection were the permission of enlistment to the number of one thousand men, and of fighting in the cause of the king, wearing a helmet and hauberk. Queen Maud, the wife of Stephen, proceeded to London, and there held court. She was a woman of gentle and amiable character ; but her lot was cabt in evil times, and she displayed the energy and courage, of a man in her efforts to nhtairi her husband's liberatior.. "ITO CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1141. The Bishop of Winchester, whom Matilda, in her short day of power, had so grievously offended, no sooner per- ceived the tide of fortune tm-ning against the empress, than ho desorted her cause, and once more declared himself in favour of his brother. He hoisted the banner of Stephen i.n the -.vails of Winchester Castle, and on his palace, which had been fortified with all the engineering skill of the age. Other castles within his diocese, including those of Waltham and Farnham, were strongly garrisoned. An interview took place at Guildford between the bishop and his sister- in-law, Queen Maud, whose entreaties probably removed any hesitation he might feel as to his course of action. ^ Matilda, having become aware of these transactionsrsent the bishop a haughty message to appear immediately in her', presence." The prelate sent back the messenger with the answer that ho was "making himself ready for her"— an expression which had a double meaning. Matilda marched with her followers to Winchester ; but the bishop, leavmg his palace defended by a strong garrison, quitted the town as she entered it, and proceeded to place himself at the head of his vassals, and of the knights wbo had agreed to fight under his standard. The castle of Winchester was given up to, Matilda, and she summoned around her those barons who'still adhered to her causa. Among these were Robert of Gloucester, the Earl of Chester, the Earl of Hereford, and David, King of Scotland, imcle to the empress. The troops under these leaders laid siege to the episcopal palace, which stood in the heart of the city. The bishop's g-arrison, having set fire to ttic adjoining houses, which might have served as places of defence to the assailants, retired into their fortress and waited for succour. Mean- while, the Bishop of Winchester had received an accession of strength from the troops of Queen Maud, among whom were the citizens of London, to the mimbor. as already mentioned, of one thousand. Marching rapidly to Winchester, the bishop surprised the troops of the empress, who wore compelled to entrench themselves in the chui-ches, while Matilda her- self, with her chief nobles, took refuge in the castle. Thus tho besiegers were iu turn besieged; the sanctuary was not respected by the warlike Bishop of Winchester, and the churches were burnt down iu order to force the occupants from their place of refuge. Tho imhappy inhabitants suffered extreme misery while this murderous warfare was going on in then- streets; they were plundered by boih of tho opposing factions, their goods seized without redress, and their homes burnt down or ransacked. The castle, which was completely surrounded by the troojjs of the bishop, sustained a siege of six weeks, by which time the provisions of the garrison wore exhausted. A daring expedient was determined upon by the empress as the altcr- nat i vo of an unconditional surrender. The 14th of September .A.D. 1111) was the feast of the Holy Rood or Cross, on which, as on other festivals of tho church, it was the custom for antagonists in the field to desist from hostOities. At daybreak on that day, when tho besieging troops were asleep or engaged in preparing for their devotions, Matilda stole out from ilTvca-stle, accoinpanied by her brother, tho Earl of Gioncestcr, and a small but chosen escort. Mounted on fleet horses they made their way through tho troops of the bishop, and fled at full speed along tho road to Devizes. A lot pursuit was immediately set on foot, and Uie fugitives •woro overtaken in tho neighbourhood of Stourbridge. Find- ing escape impossible, the Earl of Gloucester and the knights who were with him turned upon their pursuers and kept them at bay, while the empress urged on her horse and arrived in safety at Devizes. After a gallant resistance the earl with several of bis companions were taken prisoners. JMatdda pursued her way without delay from Devizes to Gloucester. It is related that, exhausted by her rapid flight, or desirous of avoiding danger on the road, she feigned death, and caused herself to be conveyed in a hearse or litter. This story, however, is improbable in itself, and rests on indiffereut foundation. The knights who escaped from the engagement at Stourbridge abandoned their arms and horses, and passed through the towns on foot, so that they might not be recognised. The worst enemies they had to fear were not the adherents of Stephen who pursued them, but the Saxon peasantry, whose hatred against the Normans, of whatever faction, had been kept alive by a long series of cruelties and acts of oppression. The fugitives, notwithstanding their disguise, were betrayed by their foreign accent, and they were attacked wherever they went by the English, who bound them with cords and flogged them along the roads with knotted whips. The King of Scotland escaped in safety to his kingdom, and the Earl of Hereford succeeded in reaching Gloucester Castle, where, however, he arrived in miserable plight, without arms, and almost without clothes. The Earl of Gloucester was brought before the queen of Stephen, who ordered hira to be confined in Rochester Castle. We are told by the best authorities that Maud did not retaliate upon the earl for the harsh treat- ment he had inflicted upon her husband, but that she permitted him every indulgence consistent with his safe custody. About a month after the capture of the Earl of Glouces- ter, a treaty was concluded between the belligerents, by the terms of which the king was exchanged for the earl, and thus the leaders of both armies regained their liberty. Stephen resumed his title and the exercise of the royal authority over the eastern and midland counties, which were the parts of the country iu the possession of his adherents. Normandy no longer acknowledged the rule of the English king. During his imprisonment the duchy had submitted to Geoffrey of Anjou, who soon afterwards re- signed it in favour of his eldest sou Henry. The resummion oi autnoritv bv Stephen rendered it necessary ior the c'lergy to renounce, in form at least, their vows of allegiance to IMatilda. Finding themselves in a position of embarrassment and diificuity, an ecclesiastical council was convened at ^Vestminster, for the purpose of debating on the subject. The Bishop of AVinchester, as the legate of the Pope, exhibited a letter from Innocent, desiring him to use every means in his power to restore his brother to liberty. The bishop then proceeded to justify the measures he had adopted in support of Matilda. He said that he had espoused her cause, not because he had desired to do so, but because circumstances impeUed him to that course of action. Matilda had not fulfilled her promises, but had used him with contumely, and even made attempt? against his fife. He therefore considered that he was ab- solved from the oaths he had taken to her, and at liberty to restore his allegiance to the king. Stephen, who was present at the assembly, then spoke to the same effect. He alluded to the disgrace the nobles endured in being governed I by a woman, and declared that he had never withheld J.D. 1142.] SIEGE OF OXIORD. 171 justice from those of his subjects who asked for it. The majority of the council acknowledged the authority of the Pope's letter, and the legate proceeded to excommunicate all the adherents of that cause to which he had himself so lately been attached. Stephen was thus restored to power ; but a lingering illness prevented him for some time from pursuing aggressive measures towards his enemies. During this time the country wore an aspect of woe and desolation. All kinds of depredations were committed by the soldiers of Brabant, the Flemings, and other foreigners, with whom the land was overrun ; while the Auglo-Xorman nobles raised funds for the expenses of the civU war by selling 'their English estates, together with the miserable inhabitants. So great was the terror excited among the people by this state of things, that we are told that a considerable body of room or dungeon specially set apart for these purposes, and filled with instruments of torture, and with iron chains so heavy that it required two or three men to lift them. " You might have journeyed," says the authority already quoted, " a whole day without seeing a living person in the towns, or in the country one field in a state of tillage. The poor perished with hunger, and many who once possessed property now begged food from door to door. Every man who had the power quitterl England. Never were greater sorrows poured upon this land." Alarmed at the increasing power of Stephen, MatUda sent the Earl of Gloucester to her husband, Geoffrey of Anjou, entreating him to bring his forces to her aid. The earl replied that his presence was necessary in his own dominions, but expressed his willingness to send his son, /p^j;f;^rV^n Revolt of the Citizens of London against MatiUla. (See pajje 169.) them would take to flight at the sight of three or four horse- men. Stories dark and dread were currently reported of cruelties practised by the Normans upon those who fell into their power. Those prisoners who were suspected to possess property of any kind were subjected to unheard-of tortures to compel them to give up their hoards. Some were sus- pended by the feet, while fumes of smoke were made to ascend about their heads ; others were tied at some distance from the ground by the thimibs, wliile their feet were scorched by fire ; or were thrown into pits filled with reptiles of different kinds ; sometimes they suffered the dislocation of their limbs in what was called the chamhre a crucir :* this was a chest lined with sharp-pointed stones, in which the victim was fastened up.f Many of the castles contained a • Tortuie-chamber. t Cliron. Sax. Prince Henry, in his stead. Some months' delay ensued, and then Henry, with the earl his uncle, quitted Normandy with an inconsiderable force, and effected a landing in England. Meanwhile, Stephen, having recovered from his illness, collected an army and laid siege to the city of Oxford, where Matilda had assembled her followers (a.d. 1142). The town fell into his bands almost immediately, and was set on fire by the royal troops. The empress had retreated into the castle, which was a place of great strength ; but, as had been the case at Winchester, it proved to be insufiiciently victualled. The fortress was completely surrounded and cut off from all supplies from without, and after a siege of three months the empress found herself compelled to make her escape in the same manner as before. 172 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. j_A.t,. Il-i3. One night in December, -when the ground was covered ■with snow, Matilda quitted the castle at midnight, attendal by four knights, who, as well as herself, were clothed in •white. JMore fortunate than on the previous occasion, the party passed through the lines of their enemies entirely unobserved, and crossed the Thames, which was frozen over. The adventurous daughter of Beauclerc then pursued her way, sometimes on foot, sometimes on horseback, to Wal- lingford, where she joined the army of her son and the Eaxl of Gloucester. After having taken Oxford Castle, Stephen encountered the forces of the Earl of Gloucester at Wilton, and was de- feated, the king himself having a narrow escape of a second imprisonment. A desultory warfare ensued, which lasted during three years, without any important advantage to either side. Prince Henry remained during this time at Statue of Stephen in the Choir of York Cathedral. Bristol Castle, in the company of his uncle, the Earl of Gloucester, and in 1147 returned to Normandy. Soon after his departure, Robert of Gloucester died of an illness result- ing from alternate excesses and privations. Deprived of the aid of her half-brother, who had governed her affairs with undoubted abiUty, Matilda found her position become every day less secure. One by one her most faithful partisans fell away, stricken down by disease, or weary of the contest ; and among those who died was the Earl of Hereford, one of the ablest and most powerful defenders of her cause. At length tlie ex-empress determined to pass over into Nor- mandy, there to concert with her husband and her son fresh measures for renewing the struggle. Emboldened by her absence, Stephen made vigorous attempts to re-establish his power upon a firm basis; and for this purpose ho endea- voured by stratagem, as well as by force, to obtain posses- sion of various strongholds wliicli had been seized and for- tified by the barons. The efforts thus made to reduce these haughty chiefs to submission met with little success, and the king's own adherents were ill-disposed to support a,- policy which they foresaw might one day be extended tol themselves. On the death of Linocent II. (September 24, 1143), the office of Legate of the Holy See was transferred from the Bishop of Winchester to Theobald, Archbishop of Canter- bury. The archbishop, having proceeded to the Council of Rheims in opposition to the royal command, was banished from the court. This impolitic act of Stephen was attended by consequences which show the extraordinary power pos- sessed by the clergy over the rude and licentious men of that age. Hugh Bigod, the Earl of Norfolk, one of the adherent* of JilatUda, received the exiled prelate under his protection ; and Theobald issued a sentence of excommunication against all the followers of the king, and the whole of the country which acknowledged his rule was declared without the pale of the Church. The order was obeyed by the clergy to the letter : the churches were closed, the services of religion sus- pended, and men died unhouselled in consequence of the refiLsal of the priests to perform their functions. The ruthless Normans, familiar from their childhood with bloodshed, trembled before what they regarded as the wrath of Heaven ; and the enslaved English regarded as their worst misery the decree which deprived them of ghostly consolation . While the laud was suffering from disorders — which in this history have been briefly glanced at, but which are fully described in the pages of the chroniclers — the stately edifices of religion scattered throughout the country attracted to themselves, as to a centre, not only aU the superstition, but the piety, the learning, and the virtue of the age. Built on the bank of some gentle stream, defenJed from storms by surrounding hills or dense woods, rose the solemn walls o_" the abbey church, gladdening the eyes of the traveller -with the certainty of rest and protection : the one peaceful spot Ti'hich, amidst the surrounding storm and violence, offered shelter to the weary, and pointed the hope of the sorrowing to heaven. Those charitable institutions, which in later and happier times had a separate existence, were, in the twelfth century, included withiu the walls of the religious houses. Each monastery of note contained its hcspital ; and the study of medicine was cultivated by the monks as well as by the women of that age. When the terrible disease of leprosy was carried into this country from Palestine — an event which appears to date from the time of the First Crusade — various hospitals, which partook of the hallowed character of monas- tic establishments, were built for the reception of the sufferers. The leper, cut oft" by law from aU intercourse with general society — as is the case still in countries where this scourge prevails — was received into these houses, where, in the com- pany of his brethren in calamity, and subjected to no re- straints but those of the conventual rule, he might lead his monotonous life engaged in the services of religion, and in the enjoyment at least of comfort and tranquillity. The hospitals attached to the monasteries also received within their walls those who were wounded in the frequent battles or forays of that turbulent period; and it would appear that those who needed the surgical assistance of the monks in these and similar cases were tended with a degree of care and kindly feeling in agreeable contrast to the common temper of the age, and with aU the skill of 1149. MARRIAGE OF HENRY AND ELEANOR OF AQUITAINE. 173 Avbich the monks were possessed. These hospitals were fret|uently of uoble, or even of royal foundation, and were often possessed of great wealth. One of the first of these religious lazar- houses of which we have any record, was the hospital of St. Giles, which received during this and the following centuries Dumerous rich and important endowments. Henry II. granted to it a charter, and gave a sum of £3 yearly to buy its inmates a distinctive habit. It was at the gate of this establishment that, towards the close of the fourteenth century, v/hen the gallows was removed from the Elms to " the north land of the wall belonging to the hospital," the singular custom was observed of presenting to criminals, on their way to execution, a large bowl of ale, called the " St. Giles's bowl." While it is probable that the interdict of the Archbishop of Canterbury did not interfere materially with the offices of charity and mercy which, in addition to those of reli- gion, were performed by the monks, it is, nevertheless, easy to understand why such a proclamation might be attended with serious inconvenience even to that part of the laity who cared nothing for the services of religion. The discontent throughout the country became so loud, that Stephen was compelled to make overtures to the arch- bishop for a reconciliation. After some delay, the primate accepted the terms, and the ban of the church was removed from the royal dominions. The king, who, in the interval, had learnt the expediency of securing the favour and adhesion of the clergy, made large donations to the churches and monasteries, and promised to extend these gifts, and add to them certain important privileges as soon as the kingdom should be placed in a condition of peace and security. Two years after the reconciliation with the archbishop, Stephen convened at London a general assembly of the higher ecclesiastics, and demanded that his eldest son, Eustace, should, with their authority, be acknowledged as successor to the throne. The bishops, headed by the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, refused positively to comply with this demand. As the legate of Rome, the archbishop had com- municated with the Pope on the subject, and had received for answer that Stephen was a usurper, and had not the right possessed by legitimate sovereigns of transmitting the crown to a successor. E.xasperated by a refusal which followed his efforts at conciliation, Stephen ordered the bishops to be placed under arrest, and their benefices to be seized. This, however, was only a temporary outburst of anger, and appears to have been to some extent justified by the open defiance given by the prelates to the sovereign to whom they had sworn allegiance. The king soon found himself menaced by further dangers from Normandy. In the year 1119, Prince Henry, the sou of Matilda, had landed in Scotland, attended by a retinue of knights and nobles, for the purpose of receiving the order of knighthood from his relative, the King of Scotland. David, at that time, held his court at Carlisle ; and Henry, who had just attained his sixteenth year, received his spurs at that place in the presence of a vast assemblage of barons from various parts of England, as well as from Scotland and Normandy. The gallant bearing and cha- racter of the young prince is said to have produced the most favourable effect upon those who witnessed the cere- mony, and wa.s afterwards contrasted with that of the son of Stephen, to the disadvantage of the latter. Henry, having returned to Normandy in the year 1150, was placed in pos- session of the government of that duchy, and on the death of his father, Geoffrey Plantagenet, which took place im. mediately afterwards, the prince received the earldom of Anjou. The latter province was conferred unon him with the stipulation that he should resign it in favour of his younger brother on the day when he should become king. He swore solenmly to this effect over the dead body of his father; but the oath, as was the case with many other kingly oaths of those days, was violated without compunction when the time came for its fulfilment. In the year 1152, Henry married Eleanor, Alienor, or Aanor, the divorced wife of Louis VII. of France, and daughter of AVilliam, Earl of Poitou and Duke of Aquitaine. According to the laws of those provinces, Eleanor succeeded her father in the exercise of sovereignty, and her husband, though a foreigner, shared the same rights. Eleanor v.-as married, in 1137, to Louis, Iving of France, who exercised control over her domains so long as he remained united to her, and he garrisoned the towns of Aquitaine with soldiers and officers of his own. The queen had given birth to two daughters, and the union had lasted several years without interrujition, when Louis determined to make a pilgrimage to Palestine, and his wife, whose uncle Raymond was Duke of Antioch, accompanied him on the journey. In the ac- count ahready given of tlie First Crusade, allusion has been made to the low state of morality which prevailed in the camps, and it would appear that even the Queen of Franco was not exempt from the evil infiuences by which she was surrounded. Eleanor, who was possessed of remarkable beauty, displayed great freedom of manners, and she was accused, whether justly or otherwise, of an improper con- nection with a young Saracen knight named Saladin. On the return of the court from the Holy Land, in the year 1152, Louis called a council of the clergy at Baugency-sur-Loire, and demanded a divorce from his wife. The cause of the king was pleaded by the Bishop of Langres, who offered evidence of the offences committed by the queen. The Archbishop of Bordeaux, however, while assenting to tho king's request, proposed that the separation should take place in a manner less fatal to the reputation of Eleanor — namely, on the ground of consanguinity between the parties. It was discovered by the prelates— rather late — that the queen was the cousin of her husband within the prohibited degrees. This, however, was the only ground on which the laws of the Church permitted a divorce, which, under any circumstances, was only granted to princes. Eleanor, who regarded her husband as " more a monk than a king," assented readily to a separation ; and on the. marriage being annulled, she s^et out for her own domains, and remained for a while in the town of Blois. The repu, dialed wife seems to have had no want of suitors, and lather found a difficulty in protecting herself from their impor- tunities. Theobald, Earl of Blois, the brother of King Stephen, offered her his hand, and haviug met with a refusal, he detained the duchess a prisoner in his castle, with the determination of marrying her by force. Sus^ pectiug his design, Eleanor cscajied from the castle by night, and descended the Loire in a boat, reached the city of Tom's, which at that time belonged to the duchy of Anjou. Geoffrey of Anjou, the second son of Matilda, hearing of 174 CASSELL'S ILLUSTllATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1152;. the arrival of the duchess, and tempted, probably, by her vast possessions, deterniioed also to make her his wife, and placed himself in ambush at the Port de Piles, on the Loire, to intercept her as she passed, and carry her off. Eleanor, within a few weeks after her divorce (May 18). The con- duct of the young prince in this transaction does not appear in a very delicate or chivalrous light ; and it is evident that motives of policy alone could have induced him to marry a Flight of Matilda from Oxford. (Soo page l72.) however, " warned by her good angel," turned aside, and Itook tlie roarl to Poictier.!. Here Henry, with more courtesy than his brother or tlio Earl of Blois, presented himself to her, and the offer of his lund being accepted, married her woman who, however beautiful, was considerably older than himself, and whose reputation was certainly not without stain. By tliis alliance Henry received the titles of Duke of A.D. 1152.] JIAIICH OF HENRY'S FORCES TO UAI.LINGFORU. 175 Aquitaine and Earl of Poitou, in addition to those which he had previously possessed. His domains now considerably exceeded in extent those uf the French king ; and Louis, alarmed at the increase of the Norman power, forbade ; Henry — who, as Duke of Normandy, was his vassal — to contract the marriage with Eleanor. Henry, however, paid no regard to the prohibition, and the French king was com- pelled to accept the new vows of homage which the prince now offered him for the territories of Aquitaine and Poitou. These oaths — which were, in fact, little else than matters of form — had been for many years the only bond which re- mained between the ancient Frankish kings and the lords of those provinces which extended between the Loire and the two seas. The country, called Gaul by the Romans, [ had, in the seventh century, already become known among ^ neighbouring nations umler the general name of France ; position of a successful rival, and they joined the army which the French king marched into Normandy. Henry, how- ever, made a vigorous defence, and having repulsed thu attacks of the French with isuccess, he obtained a truce. Meanwhile the Earl of Chester had arrived in the duchy from England, bearing with him a message from a number of chiefs of the Plantageuet party, who invited Henry to take possession of the throne in his own right. The earl declared this to be the unanimous will of the people ; and the prince responded to the call, and, without waitiug to organise a large force, he immediately set sail for England. The army with which he landed numbered about 140 knights, and 3,000 infantry ; it was composed, however, of picked men, and was well disciplined. Many of the barons of the kingdom immediately joined his standard, bring- ing with them considerable reinforcements ; and Henry Meeting of Stephen and Prince Henry at Wallingford. but in the country itself this appellation was not yet recognised. The great and rapid increase of power thus attained by Henry Plantagenet, necessarily excited the hopes of his mother, and of her adherents in England, who were grati- fied by the prospect of renewing the contest with Stephen in favour of a young prince whose gallantry and abilities offered the best prospect of success. The English lung foresaw the approaching danger, and had no difficulty in perceiving that Henry would command many more sup- porters in England than would have ranged themselves under the standard of the haughty Matilda. Stephen, therefore, concluded an aUiance with Louis of France, as well as with the Earl of Blois, and with Geoffrey of Anjou, Henry's younger brother. The two latter willingly took up arms against one who occupied to both of them the ! marched his forces to AVallingford for the purpose of giving battle to the king. Meanwhile, Stephen had made great exertions to oppose his adversary, and endeavoured, by bribes and other means, to detach the barons from his cause. Some of the latter, who had declared for Henry, no sooner heard with what a small force he had ventured into England, than they returned to the side of the king. The war between the opposing factions was carried on in the same manner as before — castles were besieged and taken, and towns carried by assault, plundered, and burnt. The English, driven from their homes, or flying from them in terror, built huts under the walls of the churches, in the hope that the sacredness of the place would protect them. No such considerations, however, restrained the belligerents, who expelled the people from their sanctuary, and turned the churches into fortresses. On the steeples. iJ u CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1154. wkeuoe the sweet sounds of bells were wont to give the .-nil to praj'er, were now placed the frowning engines of war.* The army of Stephen, which had marched from London, occupied the left bank of the Thames at Walhngford, oppo- site to the troops of Henry. The opposing forces remained in this position during two whole days without coming to an engagement, and during the pause which thus took place, negotiations were entered into between the two princes. It would appear that even the Norman nobles had become tired of the horrors of a civil war which had lasted fifteen years, and the Earl of Arundel did not hesitate to say that it was unreasonable that the calamities of the nation should be continued further through the ambition of two princes. Other lords, on both sides, expressed the same sentiments, and entreated the king and the prince to meet together for the purpose of arranging terms of peace. An interview took place between the two chiefs, who con- versed with each other across a narrow part of the river Thames, and ultimately agreed to desist from hostilities, pending the conclusion of a treaty which was to be ai-ranged at a general council of the kingdom. Prince Eustace, the only son of Stephen, was seized with indignation at the prospect of an arrangement which would, probably, exclude him from the throne, and, instantly quitting his father's presence, he proceeded into Cambridgeshire, recklessly deter- mining to maintain his right by arms. Having gathered together a band of lawless followers, he seized possession of 'the abbey of St. Edmund, ejected the monks, and placed there his head-quarters. He occupied himself in plundering the neighbourhood, and the property so obtaiued was expended in rioting and other excesses. This state of tilings, however, v/BS of short duration. One day, when the prince was eeatod at a banquet, he was seized with a sudden and violent illness, or frenzy, of which he died. The memory of St. Edmund, king and martyr, was held in the highest venera- tion by the Enghih people, and the death of the prince was attributed by them to the vengeance of Heaven provoked by the outrage he had committed upon the sanctuary of the saint. Stephen now had less difficulty in agreeing to terms which would be acceptable to Henry. The king had, indeed, one son remaining, but he was too young to be aware of how much his interests were concerned in the arrangements about to be made. The council of the kingdom was held at Winchester, November 7th, 1153, and it was finally deter- mined that Stephen should hold possession of the throne during his life, and that after his death the succession should devolve upon Henry and his heirs. This treaty, which was sworn to by the clergy, nobles, and knights of both parties, is described by different writers i^s ditfereut points of view. Some historians say that Stephen adopted Henry as his son, and gave the kingdom to him after his own death ; while others assert that the king acknowledged the heredi- tary right of Henry, who thereupon gave him permission to reign during his life. It is worthy of remark, that we find the various boroughs regarded in connection with this treaty as of some importance, ana that they were called upon to take the oaths of allegiance in the same manner as tile barons. The officers of the most important of the royal castles gave hostages to Henry for the surrender of those strongholds to hin^ when the king's death should take place. The tieaty having been concluded, Henry and Stephen made a progress together through the country, visiting the cities of London, Winchester, and Oxford. Everywhere they were received with unfeigned joy by the people, who, whatever might have been their sentiments with regard to either of the two princes, welcomed the chance which placed them side by side with sheathed swords. Henry proceeded to the Continent at the time of Lent, 115i, and in the month of October in the same year Stephen died at Dover, in the fiftieth year of his age, and the nine- teenth of Ms reign. He was buried at the monastery of Faversham, in Kent, and his tomb was afterwards destroyed when the monasteries were suppressed by the command of Henry VIII. CHAPTER XLII. Accession of Henry II., surnamod Piaiita^anet, a.d, 1154 — Reasons of his Popularity — Resumption and Destruction of Castles — Expedition to Toulouse. At the time of the death of Stephen, Henry Plantagenet was engaged in a desultory warfare against some of his rebellious vasci^; in Normandy. Secure in the strength of ' Gcsta Steph. Statue of lljury II. in the Choir of York Cathedral. his party in England, and in the certainty that his succes- sion would not be disputed, he remained to brino- the affairs in which he was engaged to a successful termination, and then proceeded to take possession of the vacant throne. The news of his arrival, which took place six weeks after the death of .Stephen, was received with general satisfaction by the people, who were induced to hope, from the lineage as well as the character of the new king, that his rule would be just and impartial. The Saxon race, faithful to their old traditions, dwelt with satisfaction upon the Saxon blood which had been A.D. 1154.] ACCESSION OF HENRY II. 177 transmitted to Henry by his mother, Matilda. They forgot the haughty character of the empress-queen, and remem- bered only that she, and, through her, their new sovereign, was descended from Alfred the Great. Writers of the time, who either believed sincerely what they wrote, or were paid to influence the people in favour of their sovereign, affirmed that England now once more possessed a king of English race ; that akeady there were many bishops and abbots of the same race, while of chiefs and nobles not a few had sprung from the intermixture of Norman and Saxon blood. They therefore held that the hatred hitherto existing be- tween the two races would henceforth rapiilly disappear. The opinions thus hopefully expressed were not justified by the actual circumstances, nor were they realised for a : considerable time afterwards. It was no doubt true that j since the time of the Conquest many Saxon women had been forcibly espoused by the Normans, but it would appear | that the children of such marriages were far from regard- , ing themselves as the brethren of the Saxon people whom the Norman dynasty would receive from the intermixture of the two races. He encouraged the popular feeling with regard to his Saxon birth, and evinced no displeasure when the English monks, in describing his genealogy, avoided all allusion to his descent on the father's side. " Thou art a sou," they said, "of the most glorious Empress Matilda, whose mother was Matilda, daughter of Margaret, Queen of Scotland, whose father was Edward, son of King Edmund Ironside, who was great grandson of the noble King Alfred." Predictions also were discovered, or invented, tending to raise stiU further the hopes of the people in the prosperity which would attend the new reign — hopes not destined tf> be realised. One of these prophecies, couched in the alle- gorical form in which such dark sayings were usually put forth, was attributed to King Edward the Confe.ssor on his death-bed. That such stories produced their effect upon the minds of men may serve to show the superstitious tendencies of the age. It is related that one of the old chroniclers, in his attempt to reconcile the two races, re- Great Seal of Henry II. they saw oppressed and degraded by the conquerors. They regarded their English blood as a stain which they were anxious to conceal by more than common harshness towards the nation from which their mothers had sprung. In the early part of the reign of William the Conqueror, he had endeavoured to remove discord from the two nations .under his rule by promoting matrimonial alliances between them, and to this end he had o2"ered women of his own country to some of the more powerful Saxon lords who re- mained free. Marriages of this kind, however, were few, and when the increased power of the Normans had reduced ths conquered people to a condition of servitude, no Enghsh- man was considered sufficiently noble to bo worthy of the hand of a Norman woman. The few men of Saxon race who, by dint of flattery and subservience, succeeded in gaining the favour of the Norman princes, and in retaining possession of wealth and power, bore no proportion to the mass of their countrymen, who were reduced to slavery. Nor can it be supposed that the character of such men would prompt them to exertions in favour of their less fortunate kinsmen. Henry II., however, was fully aware of the support which produced a statement copied from a writer still more ancient, to the effect that WLUiam the Conqueror was himself de- scended from Edmund Ironside. " Edmund," said the chronicle. " had, in addition to his two sons, an only daughter, who was banished the country for her licentious conduct, and whose beauty having attracted the attention Silver Penny, Henry II. of Duke Robert of Normandy, she became his mistress, and gave birth to William, surnamed the Bastard." It was evident that the people had every desire to sepa- rate Henry from that hatred which they si ill cherished towards the Norman race ; and they designated him as the cornor-stcne which was to unite the two walls of the state. On the other hand, the Norman nobles ?aw their king in his true character as the descendant of ths Conqueror, and 178 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1154. they knew that their own position was secure in the posses- sion of wealth, power, and civil privileges. AV'lien Henry landed in England, attended by a splendid escort, the people flocked to meet him, and tendered their coutT.itulations. The cavalcade entered the royal city of Winchester amidst the acclamations of the crowd, the Queen Eleaoor riding at the king's side. Having received the homage of the barons, the royal party proceeded to London, and on the 19 th of December the coronation took place at Westminster. The first act of the new king was to assemble a council. many cases obtained possession of the castles and domains of the Norman adherents of Matilda, and had been confirmed in their titles by Stephen. The Norman nobles found them- selves driven out, and their mansions fortified against them in the same manner that they themselves had seized the dwellings of the Saxons. When, therefore, the Braban^ons and the Flemings were expelled by Henry, the whole of the Anglo-Normans experienced great exultation. " We saw them," says a contemporary writer, "re-cross the sea, called back from the camp to the field, and from the sword to the plough ; and those who had been lords were compelled to Henry II. at which a royal decree was issued, promising to the people those rights which they had enjoyed under the reign of Henry I., and the laws which that king had restored. Stephen was declared to have been a usurper, and all the institutions originated by him were at once abolished. Measures were taken to suppress the practice of false coin- ing, which had become very common during the late reign ; and the general currency having deteriorated, a new coinage was issued of standard weight and purity. The Braban(;ons and other foreign mercenaries who had become established in England during the civil war, had in return to their old condition of serfs."* The Normans who thus made a jest of the humble origin of the Flemings, forgot that their own fathers had quitted occupations of a similar kind to follow the fortunes of the Conqueror not a hundred years before. The men of the dominant race, who had acquired titles and estates in England, had driven from their minds all recollection of their former condition, and of the means by which their present eminence was obtained, although few of them could • Rud. dc Dioeto. A.D. 115G.] CAIMPAIGN IN WALES. 17? boav a favourable comparison ia these respects with the later usurpers whom they reviled. The Saxons, however, ilid not forget the humble origin of their oppressors, and they -were accustomed to say of an arrogant earl or bishop of Nsrman origin, " He torments and goads us in the same manner that his grandfather used to beat the oxen at the plough."* The grants of land which had been made during the reign of Stephen, hal impoverished the state to such an extent that the revenues were inadequate to the support of the crown. Various gifts .ilso had been made duriug the brief reign of Matilda, who found it necessary to reward her followers in the same manner as had been done by Stephen. Soon after the truce between Henry and tlie late king, a treaty had been signed at Winchester, according to which Stephen agreed to resume possession of the royal domains, which had been given to the nobles or taken by them forcibly ; the only exceptions being grants of laud to the Church and to Prince William, the surviving sou of the king. The provisions of this treaty had, however, not been carried out ; and Henry, who had pressing need of money, and, at the s,ame time, was determined to curb the growing power of the barons, called a council, and demanded the right to resume the domains of the crown. The council, on receiving the representations made to them of the king's necessities, gave then- consent to the measure, and Henry placed himself at the head of a considerable force, for the purpose of expelling those barons who might refuse obedience to the order of the council. In this manner he passed through the country, reducing the fortresses one by one, and, as fast as they came into his hands, causing them to bo levelled with the ground. The castle of Bridgenorth, which was in the possession of Hugh de Mortimer, was stoutly defended by that chieftain ; and during the siege, which lasted for some weeks, the king's life was saved by the self-devotion of one of his vassals. Henry was directing the attack in person, and had inc.iutiously ventured under the castle walls, when an archer was observed taking aim at him. Hubert de St. Clair, one of his followers, immediately threw himself before the king, and received the arrow in his own breast. Henry supported him in his arms, and St. Clair in a few moments expired, entreating the king's protection for his only daughter, a child of tender years. The charge was accepted, and in after years was honourably fulfilled. After considerable labour and many delays, Henry fully accomplished his designs. He destroyed the castles of Henry of Winchester, the brother of Stephen, who was compelled to quit the country. Other powerful chiefs, in- cluding the Earls of Albemarle and Nottingham, were also deprived of their estates ; and the King of Scotland resigned his territories in the north of England in return for the earldom of Huntingdon, which was conferred upon him by Henry. It is related that more than 1,000 castles and strongholds, many of which were in the hands of men who grievously oppressed the people, or of licentious Roldieriiwho lived by plunder, v.-ere destroyed in the course of this ex- pedition. This act alone must have been of incalculable benefit to the country, and justified, to some extent, the expectations which had been formed from the character of the new monarch . >..D. 1156. — Geoffrey Plantagenet, the brother of Henry, • Roper of Hovedea. j having called upon him to fulfil the oath which he had taken I over the dead body of their father, to relinquish the earldom of Aujou, received a refusal. It is stated that Henry had been aksolvcd from his oath by the Pope ■, but whether this be so or not, he had no intention of giving up any part of I his vast possessions. Geolfrey, naturally indignant at being I deprived of his right, and supported by the court of France, declared war against his brother, and obtained possession of several fortresses. Henry crossed the Channel with a considerable force, and having done homage to tlie French king, persuaded him to resign the cause of Geoffrey. The English army, composed of men of Saxon descent, rejoiced at the opportunity of indulging in their long -desired vengeance against tho Normans ; and they engaged in the war with so much vigour and success, that the cause of Geoffrey rapidly lost ground, and he was compellesl to sue for terms of peace. A treaty was concluded, by which the younger brother resigned all claim to his lands and the title of the Earl of Anjou, in return for a pension of 1,000 English or 2,000 Angevin pounds. In the following year (1157) he was elected to the government of Nantes. H.aving reduced his brother to submission, Henry made a progress through his Continental provinces, attended by a splendid retinue, and was received everywhere with accla- mations. Henry surrounded himself with the pomp and magnificence of royalty, in a manner which had never before been witnessed in his dominions, and which was equalled by no other monarch of his time. A.D. 11.57. — Having r^jturned to England, the king marched an army into Flintshire for the purpose of reducing the Welsh, who still fought bravely for independence, to permanent submission. No opposition was made to hia advance until he reached the mountainous district about ColeshUl Forest. Here the English troops were suddenly attacked by a large force, while passing through a narrow defile, where it was impossible to form in order of defence. The slaughter was very great. Several wealthy Normal : nobles and knights of fame were dragged from their horses, and put to the sword ; the Earl of Essex, the royal standard- bearer, threw down the standard, and took to flight. Had the king not displayed those military talents which were hereditary in the family of the Conqueror, he wotdd probably have shared the fate of his nobles, and the whole army would have been lost. Henry, however, drew his sword, and rushing into the midst of his flying troops, forced them to turn upon their assailants. Ultimately he fought his way through the pass, and collected his forces together in the open country. Owen Gwynned, a chief of the mountaineers, attempted to decoy him once more among the mountains , but Henry took his way to the sea-coast, and passed along the shore, building castles wherever an opportunity presented itself, and clearing portions of the country from the dense forests with which it was covered. After a campaign of a few months, the Welsh gave in their submission to the king, and did homi>c>tei da 'Trouiachuri. A.D. llC:i.] CAREER OF THOMAS A BECKET. 1S3 ■wards with AJclais, niece of Kiug Stephen aud bister of the Earl of Blois. By this alliauce with his enemies, Heary perceived that his own connection with the French king was endangered, and having secretly obtained the authority of the Pope, he caused the marriage of his son Henry, who was seven years old, and the daughter of Louis, to be immediately solemnised. Henry, then, according to the terms of the treaty, obtained the dowry of the princess from the knights Templars, who were not prepared to resist at once the authority of the Pope and the power of the English king. Louis immediately declared war, and ban- ished the Templars from his kingdom. Henry contented himself with defending his territories from the attacks made upon them until peace was once more concluded, through the intervention of the Pope. At this period (a.d. 11G2), as had already b3cn the case on a previous occasion, there were two Popes. One of these, Victor IV., occupied the papal chair at Rome, under the protection of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa of Ger- many; and the other, Ale-xander IIL, was living in exile in France. The latter was generally regarded in that country and in England as the legitimate pontiff, and Henry and Louis alike acknowledged his authority, vying with each other in offers of protection and in reverence. It is related by the Norman chronicler that when the two kings mat the Pope Ali;xanler at the town of Courcy-sur- Loire, tliey dismounted from their horses, and each taking hold of one of the bridle reins of his mule, walked at his side on foot, and so conducted him to tlie castle. The reconciliation thus effected was followed by a brief period of tranquillity, both in England and Normandy, and when the flame of war again broke out, its origin was to be referred to no foreign enemy, but to the machinations of a man whom Il.-iiry had raised to the heiglit of power and dignity. CHAPTER XLin. Keign of Henry II. coutiuued— Career and Deatk of TUomas Ji Becket. Among the yeomen of Saxon race whose necessities com- pelled them to seek the service of tlie Norman barons as esquires or attendants, was a man whose romantic his- tory, no less than the extraordinary career of his son, caused his n:ime to become famous to a degree which rarely happened in those days to one of obscure birth. Gilbert Becket was born in London in the reign of Henry I. It would appear that his real na ne was Beck, and that his Norman mas- ters changed it into Becket, which was corrupted by the Anglo-Saxons into Bockie. At the beginning of the twelfth century Gilbert Bjcket, or Beckie, followed his lord to the Holy Land. After having taken part in the ordinary dangers and sufferings of the soldiers of the cross, Gilbert was made prisoner and reduced to slavery. In this condition the Saxoa yeoman attracted ',■;: notice of the datighter of a Saracen cliief, and gained her love. With her assistance, he succeeded in eflecting his escape, and returning to England. Tlie payiiim dam.sel, however, found lierself unable to live without him, and she determined to find her way to the distant country, whither he had told her he was going. She knew only two words of English, which were London and Gilbert. With the help of the former she obtained a passage in a ship which carried returning pilgrims and traders ; and by means of the latter— running from street to street, and repeating ''Gilbert! Gilbert! " amidst the wonder and derision of the crowd, she found the man she loved.* Gilbert Becket appears to have received her tenderly and honourably, aud having asked the advice of the clergy, he caused her to be baptised, and having changed her name to that of Matilda, he married her. The strange circumstances of this marriage caused it to become famous througliout the country, aud it was made the subject of various popular ballads and romances, two of which are still extant f About the year 1119 Gilbert and Matilda had a son, who was named Thomas, and who was destined to occupy a prominent position in the history of his time. At an early age he was sent to France to receive his education, and to get rid of that English accent which, under the Norman domination, would have been fatal to his advance- ment in life. This object was attained so completely that, on his return, Thomas Becket found himself able to enter the most refined society of the court without giving any indication of his Sa.xon origin, either by word or gesture. The youth was amliitioiis, and he quickly found means to turn this talent to account. He obtained the favour of one of the Norman barons who lived near London, and he joined in all the amusements of his patron. In this position his talents acquired liini a great reputation among the courtiers, to whom his ready wit recommended him, no lets than the obsequious demeanour which he sedulously cultivated. Theobald, Archbisliop of Canterbury, having heard of the young Englishman, desired to see him, and having been pleased witli the interview, took Becket into his service. He caused Iiiin to take deacon's orders, gave him the ap- pointment of archdeacon of his chureh, and employed liim in various negotiations with the Holy See. In the reign of Stephen, Becket was employed by llie partisans of JIatilda to procure tlie Pope's prohibition of the intended coronation of tlie king's son. 'l"he mission was attended with complete success, and on the accession of Henry II,, Becket was presented to him as one who had done his cause good service. Henry extended his favour to the young ai'ch- deacon, and Theobald, the primate, who exercised the functions of first minister to the kingdom, finding liis growing infirmities rendered him unfit for the duties of his olliee, delegated to Becket a great part of his power. A few years afterwards the archdeacon was raised to the office of Chancellor of England, or Keeper of the Seal of tlie Three Lions, which was tlic symbol of the .\nglo-Noriuan power. The king also gave him the wardensliip of the Tower of London and of the castle of Berkhanipstead, and placed in his hands the care and education of tlie heir to the throne. These various appointments yielded large revenues, which were spent by Becket in the greatest luxury and magnifi- cence. He kept in his house, which was furnished with groit splendour, a numerous retinue ; and it is related that there were in his pay 700 men-at-arms, well mounted and equipped. His tables were covered with choice viands, served upon costly plate; and the trappings of his horsis were adorne. 1164. picion to the coast. It waa at the eud of November, and the weather was cold and stormy ; but Becket preferred the risks of the sea to those which awaited him on shore, and, embarking in a small boat, reached the harbour of Grave- Here Becket waited the result of the applications he had made to Louis of France, and to the Pojje Alexander III. It was not long before replies were returned entirely in his favour. Louis was glad of an opportunity of annoying and I'roijress of Thomas i Becket through France. (See page 1S4.) Jinea in safety. Thence he resumed his journey, as before, injuring Henry by extending protection to the archbishop,. on foot. Having encountered many privations, the primate ' and Alexander supported his cause, as being that of the and lii.=! companions reached the monastery of St. Bertin, in ' Church and of justice. He was desired to retain the archi- the tov/n of St. Omer. I episcopal dignity, which he had resigned ijito the hands of A.D. llO'l.f FLIGHT OF TUOJIAS A BECKET. 187 tli-e Pope, and the abbey of I'ontigny, in Burgundy, was given to him as a place of residence. On the news of Becket's flight, the king immediately 1 reclaimed a sentence of banishment against all the kindred cause. Thus it happened that his retirement at Pontigny was disturbed by the visits of these poor people, who vainly implored him to obtain the remission of their sentence. Becket relieved their wants as far as was in his power, and of the archbishop, young and old, women and children. It obtained for many of them the protection of the Pope aud "is even related that these unhappy exiles were made to swear that they would present themselves before Becket, so that he might see the misery of which he had been the the King of France. The banished prelate appears to have supported with contentment his sudden loss of power and return to tha IS8 CASSELL-S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1166. condition of poverty. His life at this period was, however, far from being an idle one. Much of his time was occupied in writing; and he received frequent letters both from friends and enemies. The English bishops appear to have Bent him epistles full of reproaches, for no other reason than to add to the weight of misfortune and humiliation which pressed heavily upon him. The lower ranks of the people, however, retained their attachment to him, and secret prayers were offered up for his success in his under- takings, and for his safe return. Meanwhile, Henry had conducted an expedition into Wabs, which resulted in a complete defeat of the royal forces. In the year 1164, a young man, nephew of Rees- ap-Gryffith, King of South Wales, was found dead under suspicious circumstances ; and it was believed that he had been murdered by persons in the employ of a Norman baron of the neighbourhood. To avenge his death, Rees- ap-Gr}ffith collected troops from all parts of the Welsh mountains, and made successful inroads upon the neigh- bouring counties. The king, quitting for a time his quarrel •with Becket, gathered a considerable army, and in 1165 passed into Wales. The rebels gave way before him, re- treating, as their custom was, to the shelter of the moun- tains. Henry, however, overtook them before they had gained their fastnesses, and defeated them in an engage- ment on the banks of the Cieroc. Pursuing them still further, the English troops reached the foot of Berwiu, where they pitched their encampment. A violent storm arose, and the streams which poured down from the hills deluged the camp and flooded the valley. The mountaineers took advantage of this circumstance, and, coUesting on the ridges of the Berwin, attacked the disordere 1 forces of the king, and defeated them with considerable loss. Henry, who on ordinary occasions was less addicted to acts of cruelty than had been the case with his ancestors, was subject to fits of ungovernable passion ; and lie now deter- mined to revenge himself upon the persons of the hostages •which had been placed in his hands in the year 1158 by the Welsh chiefs. The men had their eyes torn out, and the faces of the women were mutilated by having their noses and ears cut off. It is related that the unhappy victims of these barbarities were the sons and daughters of the noblest families in 'Wales. A.D. 1166. — Soon after the return of Henry from this expedition, an insurrection broke out in Brittany, which compelled his presence in that province. The government of Conan dissatisfied the people, who were oppressed by the Breton nobles, and could obtain no redress from their prince. Henry entered Brittany with a large body of troops, and was mot by a deputation of the priests and the people, who placed the redress of their grievances in his hands. Conau was compelled to resign his authority, and the government passed into the hands of Henry, under the .*ame of his son Geoffrey, who, as we have seen, was married to the daughter of Conan. The country, how- ever, was not restored to tranquiUity. Other disturbances took place in various places, and were put down one after the other by Henry, who at length succeeded in overcoming aU opposition to his government. He insti- tuted various reforms, encouraged trade, and, under his role, the land once more enjoyed prosperity. When the news of the king's arrival on the Continent Kftched Thomas i Becket, he left Pontigny, and proceeded to Vezelay, near Auxerre. At the festival of the Ascension, Becket addressed the crowd assembled in the great church and while the bells were solemnly tolled, and the candles burnt at the altar, the archbishop pronounced sentence of ex- communication against whosoever held to the Constitutions of Clarendon, or kept possession of the property of the see of Canterbury. He mentioned by name several of the Norman favourites of the king, and among others Richard de Lucy, Eanulph de Broc, Jocelyn Baliol, and Hugh de St. Clair. When Henry heard of this new act of hostihty on the part of Becket, he was at ChLnon, in Anjou. Allusion has already been made to the fits of passion with which he was sometimes seized, and on this occasion his fury was alto- gether ungovernable. He exclaimed that it was attempted to kill him body and soul ; that he was surrounded by none but traitors, who would not attempt to reheve him from the persecutions inflicted upon him by one man. He threw his cap from his head, flung off his clothes, and rolling himself in the coverlet of his bed, began to tear it to pieces with his teeth. When his passion had in some degree sub- sided, he wrote letters to the King of France and to the Pope, demanding that the sentences of excommunication should be annulled, and threatening that ff Becket con- tinued to receive shelter from the Cistercians at Pontigny, all the est;ites in the king's dominions belonging to that order should be confiscated. The Pope promised the king the satisfaction he required, and Becket, driven from his asylum at Pontigny, removed to Sens, where he remained under the protection of the ICing of France. A series of petty wars now took place between Louis anu Henry, and were concluded by a peace in the year 1169. The matrimonial alliance previously agreed upon between Louis and the King of Arragon was broken off, and the Princess Alice of France was betrothed to Richard, second son of Henry. At the time when this treaty was con- cluded, efforts were made by the Pope and the King of France to effect a reconciliation between Henry and Becket. A meeting took place between the two kings at Montmirail, in Perche, and thither Becket, having consented to give in his submission to his sovereign, was conducted. When the archbishop arrived in the king's presence, he expressed his wilUugness to submit to him in all things ; but he intro- duced the qualifying clause which he had formerly used — " saving the honour of God." The king angrily rejected such obedience, saying that whatever displeased Becket would be dedared to be contrary to the honour of God, and that these few words would take away all the royal authority. The archbishop persisted in requiring such a reservation ; and while the nobles present accused him of inordinate pride, the two kings rode away from the spot without giving him any salutation. The archbishop de- parted from the place much dejected. No man now offered him lodging or bread in the name of the King of France ; and on his journey back, the primate of all England was compelled to ask alms from the priests and the people. Another conference which took place was also broken off suddenly, and resulted in a quarrel between Louis and Henry. Peace was, however, once more concluded between them, and Henry, fearing that the Pope might ultimately sanction Becket's proceedings, and permit him to lay all England under an interdict, reluctantly promised to con- clude final terms of reconciliation with the archbishop- On the 22nd July, a.d. 1170, a solemn congress was held in a ft.D. 1170.] RETURN OF THOMAS A BECKET TO ENGLAND. 189 meadow bctwcoti Freteval and La Ferte- Bernard, in Touraine. Aftur terms of peace had been arranged between the two kings, a private conference took place between Ilcury and Beeket. They rode together to a diatant part of the field, and conversed with sometliing of their old familiarity. The king promised to redress the grievances of which Beckot complained, and the usual forms of recon- ciliation took place, with the exception of the kiss of peace, which the king now, as on a previous occasion, refused to give. " We shall meet in our own country," said the king, "and then we will embrace." Becket undertook to render to the king all due and loyal service, while Henry promised to restore the privileges and estates of the see of Canterbury. It is related that, to the astonishment of all present, when Becket bended the knee on parting from his sovereign, the king returned the cou-rtesy by holding the stirrups of the man whom he had refused to kiss. Some delay took place on the king's part in the fulfilment of these conditions, and Becket, who was compelled to borrow money to make the journey, remained for a while on the coast of France. Sinister rumours reached him there ; he was told that enemies were lying in wait for hira in England, and that if he again set foot in that country it would be at the risk of his Uf-. The lands of the Church could only be restored by driving out the possessors, who were haughty barons, not unlikely to seek vengeance on the man to whom they owed tkeir ruin. Deadly enemies of Becket were found also among men of his own order. He carried with hira the Pope's letter of excommunication •against the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of London, who would probably accept any means of escaping the im- pending disgrace. Considerations such as these, however. had never deterred Becket in the execution of his plans, and did not in the least affect him now. With a spirit untamed by reverses he declared that he would go back to England though he were sure of losing his life on touching the shore. The letters of excommunication he forwarded before him by a trusty messenger, who delivered them in pubHc to the prelates whom they concerned. A vessel having been sent by Henry to convey him to England, he landed at Sandwich, December 1, 1170, and was received ^vith great rejoicings by the people, who flocked from all parts of the neighbourhood to meet him. The nobles, however, held aloof, and the few whom he saw did not attempt to conceal their hostility. Three barons, who met him on his way to Canterbury, are said to have drawn their swords and threatened his life, and were only restrained from violence by the entreaties of John of Oxford, the king's chaplain, who had accompanied Becket from France. Proceeding on his way, the archbishop passed through Canterbury to Woodstock, where he endeavoured to obtain an interview with Priuce Henry, the eldest sou of the king. The prince had been the pupil of Becket, who now, in his difficulties, desired, if possible, to secure his influence and goodwill. The interview was forbidden by the royal com- mand, and Becket was ordered to proceed at once to his diocese, and there to remain. The time of Christmas was approaching, and the archbishop retraced his steps, escorted on the way by the poor people, armed with such coarse weapons as tl'.ey could obtain. Various insults were offered to the prelate by persons of the opposite party, who were anxious to provoke his followers to a quarrel, which would afford a pretext for attacking and murdering him. Hia faithful guard, however, contented themsalves with pro- tecting the person of their archbishop, and received these insults with imperturbable coolness. The royal order which confined the primate to hia diocese was published in the towns, and with it another edict, which declared that whoever looked upon him with favour should be regarded as an enemy of the king and the country. Signs like these were not to be mistaken ; and it scarcely needed the acute intellect and foresight of Becket to per- ceive that his end was approaching. On Christmas Day be preached to the assembled crowd in Canterbury Cathedral, choosing as his text the solemn words, Vent ad vos, mori inter vos — " I have come to die among you." He told the people that whereas one of their archbishops had already been a martyr, another would soon be so also ; but he de- clared that before he died he would avenge some of the wrongs which had been inflicted upon the Church. He theu proceeded to excommunicate several of those persons from whom he had received insults since his return to Esgland. The prediction of Becket was soon followed by its fulfil- ment. The three bishops who had been excommunicated by the Pope's letters immediately hastened to cross the Channel, and presenting themselves before Henry in Normandy, demanded redress. "We entreat you," they said, "in the name of your kingdom and of its prelates. This man is setting England in flames. He maroues with a number of armed men, both horse and foot, going about the fortresses, and endeavouring to obtain admission into them." Henry heard this statement, and burst out into a violent fit of rage. " What ! " he cried ; " a man who has eaten my bread — a beggar who first came to my court riding a lame pack-horse, with his baggage at his back — shall he insult the king, the royal family, and the whole kingdom, and not one of the cowards who eat at my table will deliver me from such a turbulent priest ? " * These words proved to be the death-warrant of the arch- bishop. Four knights who were present, Richard Brito, Hugh de Morville, William Tracy, and Reginald Fitzurse, bound themselves by an oath to support each other to the death, and suddenly departed from the palace. There is no evidence that the king was acquainted with their design, or anticipated that his hasty words would be so speedily acted upon. On the contrary, it is recorded that, whila the knights were hastening towards the coast, a council of the barons of Normandy, assembled by the king, was engaged in appointing three commissioners to seize the person of Thomas ii Becket, and place him in prison on a charge of high treason. The conspirators had departed, and, if their absence was perceived, its cause was not suspected. On the fifth day after Christmas they arrived in the neighbourhood of Can- terbury, and having collected a number of armed men, to overcome any resistance that might be offered, they first summoned the mayor, and called upon hira to march the citizens who were armed for the king's service to the house of the archbishop. On hia refusal, they proceeded thither without more delay, and the four conspirators, with twelve men, abruptly entered the archbishop's apartment. Becket was at the dinner-table, with his servants in attendance. He saluted the Normans, and desired to know what they * Vita. B. Tbomx Quadripart. '190 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1170. ■ wanted. They made no reply, but sat down gazing at him intently for some minutes. At length Reginald Fitzurse rose up, and said that they were come from the king to demani that the person excommunicated should be absolved, the suspended bishops restored to their benefices, and that Becket himself should answer the charge of treason against the throne. The archbishop replied that not he, but the Pope, had excommunicated the bishops, and that he only could absolve them. " From whom, then, do you hold your bishopric ? " Fitzurse demanded. " The spiritual rights I hold from God and the Pope, and the temporal rights from ■the king." " What, then, the king did not give you all? " " By no means." This reply was received with murmurs against the door. At this moment the sound of the vesper bell was heard, and Becket then rose up, and faid, that since the hour of his duty had arrived, he would go into the church. Directing his cross to be carried before him, he passed slowly through the cloisters, ami advanced to the choir, which was inclosed by a railing. While he was as- • cending the steps leading to the choir, Reginald Fitzurse entered the door of the church, clad in complete armour, and waving his sword, cried, " Come hither, servants oi the king ! " The other conspirators immediately followed him, armed to the teeth, and brandishing their swords. It was already twilight, which, within the walls of tho dimly-lighted church, had deepened into blackest obscurity. Murder of Thomas i Docket. by the knighte, who twirled their gauntlets impatiently, " I perceive that you threaten me," the archbishop said ; -"but it is in vain. If all tlie swords in England were hanging over my head, they would not alter my determina- tion." " We do indeed dare to threaten," said Fitzurse, " and we will do more." With these words he moved to the door, followed by the others, and gave the call to arms. The door of the room was instantly closed, and the at- tendants of Bcclict entreated him to take refuge in the church, which communicated with the house by a cloister. He, however, retained his place, although -the blows of an axe, which Fitzurse had obtained outside, resounded Becket's attendants entreated him to fly to the winding staircase which led to the roof of the building, or to seel refuge in the vaults underground. He rejected both of tliesc expedients, and stood still to meet his assailants. " Where is the traitor ? " cried a voice. There was no answer. " Where is the archbishop? " " Here I am," Becket replied ; " but here is no traitor. What do ye in the house of God in wa.like equipment? " One of the knights seized him by the sleeve, telling him he was a prisoner. He pulled back his arm violantly. It is related tliat they then ad- vised him to fly or to go with them, as though they repented of tlieir evil design. The time and <,he scene, tlx! sacred office of Becket, e posts, the house fell, together w.th a piece of thetl , Z^^ T£.^y ^a W f by^a ^f^ '''' "^^ The troops poured through the breach thus made, and cap- the island from the mluth 7 H i^ T'' ^"'°'' tured the city, killing the inhabitants without me cy. ^ Boyne AU the nomrwh, , r . T^\ *° '^^' °^ '^' ^^n^itfSTrSiai ^^t^^ty ^lS ^I S:::'^ ^t~ "^^ -:t^-:;TS uninterrupted successes, made'incu.ions npon'th: sr^nd- ! im^o^rar 7^^^^^^^^^^ ^"V^t'^^'^ :ng country. lung Henry, however, received the news of promulgated the bu'u of C A ktaLt^^^ r^ these even,;.>, and his ea busv beine e™tpd if s„M, o, tr,A i, <=""" oi J- ope Adrian , and various reforms important con.nest bei^g attaLd'b^ r:llthetsu:d ! ^ht iSX^r' "'^^""^ '^"'"'^^ ^^'^ ^"^'"^-^^^^ ^*° from the realm. A consultation was held among the Nor- mans, and Raymond Fitz-^Villiam, surnamed Le Gros nephew of Fitz-Gerald and Fitz-Stephen, was dispatched on a mission to Henry, to prevail upon him to recall the conquest, but the popular feeling excited throughout his dominions by the death of Becket rendered it necessary lor him to conciliate where he had formerly threatened This course of action met with temporary success, and the proclamation, and to remind him of theletter he had ^Z A^ , m •"'' 7''\*'"''°'"^'^' ^"='=^^' ^■^'^ ^'''^ returning any answer, or, according to some of the chroni- -clers, he rephed by confiscating the estates of Strongbow m Wales. While the earl thus found himself cut off from aU rein- forcements of men and arms, the Normans in Leinster were suddenly attacked by the men of Danish race who were settled on the nortli-east coast of Ireland, and who now allied themselves with the natives against the new invaders ihey attacked Dublin, but without success. The Normans hov^ever, dreading the formidable league against them' inade a second application to Henry throu-rh Hervey Fitz- Maurice. Strongbow himself was then ordered to proceed to the court, and after some delay he obtained an audience Ihe earl agreed to surrender to the king the town of Dublin, with the larger of the other towns on the coast- in return, Strongbow was permitted to retain his other acqui- sitions in Ireland, and was restored to the possession of his estates in Wales. MacMurrogh having died previously to this interview, Strongbow had assumed the title of King of Leinster, in right of his wife Lva; and he now found himself redJced frotn the condition of a sovereign prince to that of steward of the Engl^h crown. In the ye.r 1171, Henry set sail from Milford to take possession of bis new territorfes. Th. royal force consisted of 400 vessels, containing about 5 000 TheCr^r^ "^w ^"'' ^^° '^°'«^*^- Henry landed at the Croc,k, near Waterford, October 18th, and was received by the Norman chiefs, who tendered him their homa^-e The army commenced its march, by way of Cashel,'to Dub in meeting with no resistance. The inhabitants, over- awed by the nimbers and the martial equipment of their enemies, fled in dismay before the alvancing troops, and the native lungs of the south had no other alternative than After he had remained in the country for a few months longer, Henry received news which compelled his imme- diate return to England. Having appointed officers to the chief places of power in the island, he sailed from A\'exford on the 17th of April, 1172, and landed at Portfinnan, in Wales. At this time the king had four legitimate sons living- Henry, Richard, Geoifrey, and John, of whom Henry, the eldest, was eighteen years of age. An equitable provision had been made for each of them, it being intended that Henry should succeed to the English throne, as well as to the territories of Normandy, Anjou, and Maine. Richard who was the favourite of his mother, was to receive her estates of Aqnitaine and Poitou ; Geoffrey, who had married the daughter of the Duke of Brittany, was to succeed to that province ; and John was to be made King of Ireland. It will be re.neiubered that during the archbishopric of Thomas a Becket, the king had taken measures to abolish the primacy, by causing his eldest son to be crowned king by the Archbishop of York. The poUtical enemies of Henry exerted themselves to turn this impolitic measure to their own advantage, by exciting the son to rebel- li'n against the father, who was now called the elder king. In these attempts they were seconded by Queen Eleanor, whose affections had ben alienated from the king by his numerous infideUties. She was a woman of strong passions, and determined to make her children the instruments of her vengeance. Through her efforts the people of Aquitaine and Poitou attached themselves to the cause of the younger king, and many of the nobles of those provinces became his counsellors and confidants. They i^pared no pains to excite the ambition of the youth, and persuaded him that his iVither had abdicated thfe throne in 196 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 117L his favour, and was no longer entitled to hold the sovereign authority. At the coronation of Prince Henry, his wife Margaret, the daughter of Louis of France, was not per- mitted to receive the crown with her husband, and this omission was resented by the French king, to whom it af- forded a pretext for embraciug the cause of liis son-in-law. A peace liaving been concluded by the intervention of the Pope, the wrong was repaired, and Margaret was crowned ijueen. Henry then permitted the young couple to visit the French court, and during their stay, Louis continued to foment the dissatisfaction of the son, and to excite him to rebellion against his father. On his return to England, the younger king did not hesi- tate to demand that his father would resign to him either the throne of England or one of tlie two duchies of Normandy and Anjou. Henry advised liim to have patience untd the time when all these possessions would become his. The son quitted his father's presence in anger, and from that day, in the language of an old his- torian, no word of peace ever more passed between them. Henry II., determined to Match the conduct of his re- lieHious heir, caused him to travel with him through the duchy of Aquitaine. When the court was at Limoges, Raymond, Earl of Toulouse, who had quarrelled with the King of France, came to offer his allegiance to Henry; and having done so, he warned him to look weU to the proceedings of his wife and son, and to place the fortresses of Aquitaine and Poitou in a state of defence. The king profited by the warning, and without making his suspicions known, he contrived to visit the fortresses, and to assure himself of the fidelity of the commanders. On the return from their visit to Aquitaine, the king and his son stopped to sleep at the town of Cliinon ; and during the night young Henry quitted the place and fled to Alencjon. A pursuit was instituted, but without success ; and the young man reached Argenton, whence he escaped by night into the territories of the King of France. On the news of this escape being brought to the old king, ho displayed all the energy of former years, and, mounting on horseback, he proceeded along the frontier of Normandy, inspecting the defences, and preparing against attacks. Messengers, with a similar object, were also dispatched to the captains of the royal garrisons in Anjou, Aquitaine, and Brittany. Meanwhile the two princes, Richard and Geoffrey, followed their brother to tlie French court, and Queen Eleanor also endeavoured to make her escape, dressed m man's clothes. She was, however, taken prisoner by those sent in pursuit of her, and was placed in an imprisonment, in which she remained, with very slight .Spoon of tho Twelfth Century, used at the Coronation of the Kings and Queens. intermission, during sixteen years. Henry now sent envoys to the French court, demanding his son, and also requiring to know the intentions of the King of France. The ambas- sadors were received in full court, in the presence of young Henry and his brothers. When, according to the usual form, they commenced their message by enumerating the titles of their royal master, they were interrupted by Louis, who declared that there was but one King of England — namely, the young prince now standing before them. Young Henry was recognised by a general assembly of the barons and bishops of France as having the only lawful right to the English throne. Louis VII. made oath to this effect, and after him the brothers of Henry and the barons of the kingdom. A great seal was made with the arras of the Iting of England, in order that Henry might affix that sign of royalty to his documents of state. His first acts were grants of land and estates to the barons of France and the enemies of his father who were willing to join the confederacy. Among these were William. King of Scotland, who was to receive the territories of Northumberland and Cumberland, conquered by his prede- cessors ; Philip, Earl of Flanders, to whom was promised the earldom of Kent, and the castles of Dover and Rochester ; and the Earl of Blois, who was to have Amboise, Chateau- Reynault, and five hundred pounds of silver from tha revenues of Anjou. Other donations were made of a similar kind, and the young king sent messengers to Rome to obtain the sanction of the Pope. It is remarkable that he demanded the assistance of the papal see on the ground that he could not submit to see the murder of his foster-father, Thomas a Becket, remain unpunislied, and the murderers stiU living in security and affluence. He also promised large concessions to the Church and an extension of its privOeges. The court of Rome, however, accustomed to act with caution, was in no hurry to reply to this despatch, and waited the course of events. Meanwhile the cause of the rebellious son was embraced by many powerftd chiefs, even among the vassals of the English king. Not a few recalled former acts of arrogance or oppression for which the present occasion offered the prospect of vengeance ; others, who were young in arms, and of turbulent and adventurous spirit, were easily in- duced to take up arms in favour of the gay young prince. In England the Earls of Leicester and Chester were the principal supporters of his cause. Henry, who was then in Normandy, saw himself deserted by many of the lords of his court, and it is said that even the guards of his chamber, those who were entrusted with the care of his person and his Ufe, went over to his enemies. In circumstances such as these, with dangers thickening around him, the indomitable character and powerful mind of the king were displayed to their fuU extent. He posse-ised in a high degree those political and military talents which were hereditary in the family of the Conqueror, and although the loss of his followers was to him a cause of the greatest grief and despair,* yet he preserved a calm and cheerful countenance, pursuing liis usual amusements of hunting and hawking, and showing himself more than usually gay and affable tov/ards those who came into his presence, f The king placed his chief reliance upon his command of * Oiraldas Cambrenais. t Matthew Paris. A.D. 1174.] CONFERENCE BETWEEN THE KINGS OF FRANCE AND ENGLAND. 197 money, with which he hired into his service a number of foreign mercenaries, including 20,000 Brabanfons. He also exercised all the arts of diplomacy to detach the neighbouring priucee from the cause of his son, and sent messengers to Rome, acknowledging himself as the Pope's vassid, and entreating his assistance. The terms used by the king in his letter, in which the kingdom of England was called the patrimony of St. Peter, probably tended in some degree to excite and justify those pretensions of the see of Rome, which in subsequent reigns produced such important results. The Pope admitted the justice of the king's claims in opposition to those of his son, and con- firmed the sentences of excommunication which the Norman bishops of Henry had issued against the adherents of the princes. He also sent a special legate across the Alps, commissioned to arrange terms of peace ; but before the messenger arrived, the war had already commenced on the frontier of Normandy. Allusion has already been made to the animosities existing between the different races inhabiting the continental ter- ritories of Henry II. The rebellion of the princes fomented this national hatred, and opposing nations took part in the contest,, and having once drawn the sword, were not easily induced to lay it aside. While the King of France and Henry the younger were marching an army into Normandy, Richard had gone to Poitou, where most of the barons entered the field in his cause. Geoffrey met with similar success among the people of Brittany, who, with their foi-mer readiness for revolt, entered into a confederation for the purpose of securing their own interests, while ostensibly supporting the cause of their duke. The old king thus found himself attacked at several points simultaneously, while the troops whom he had at command were chiefly the Brabangou mercenaries, who, though vahant men-at- arms, were in fact little better than banditti. With a division of these troops Henry opposed the advance of the King of France, and ultimately compelled him to make a rapid retreat. Another division, which had been sent into Brittany, met with equal success against the insurgents, and the adherents of the princes were defeated wherever they showed themselves. King Louis, who possessed little persistence of character, soon grew weary of this war, as he had done on former occasions, and advised the rebellious sons to seek a reconciliation with their father. Henry con- sented to a conference, and the two kings met in a wide plain near to Gisors, where there was a venerable elm, ■whose branches descended to the ground. In this spot, from time immemorial, all conferences had been held between the dukes of Normandy and the kings of France. The conference was attended by the two princes, accom- panied by the archbishops, bishops, and nobles of both countries. The king offered to his eldest son half of the royal revenues of England, with the same portion of the incomes of Normandy and Anjou. To the other princes he also offered estates and revenues. The King of France, however, was alarmed by these conciliatory proposals, and threw difficulties in the way of a paeifioation, encouraging the enemies of Henry to take measures for breaking off the negotiations. One of these men was Robert, Earl of Lei- cester, who insulted Henry with open abuse, and even laid bis hand upon his sword, as though he would have violated the truce by slaying his sovereign. He was, however, forcibly reatrained by those who surrounded him. The tumult which arose was followed by a renewal of hostilities -. and a desultory war, in which no engagement of import- ance took place, was continued during the rest of the year. Robert of Leicester had returned to England for the purpose of joining Hugh Bigod, a powerful noble who adhered to the cause of the princes. The Scots, who ha(? begun to make forays upon the lands in their neighbourhood, were also assuming a dangerous attitude ; but were re- puked by Richard de Lucy, the king's high justiciary, who burnt their town of Berwick, and drove them back with considerable slaughter. On his return to the south he defeated the Earl of Leicester, and took him prisoner. The Saxon peasantry of England appear to have been entirely indifferent to these disputes, and, therefore, remained quiet. The people of Normandy, also, were generally faithful te their sovereign, and it was among the recent conquests ot Henry — in the provinces of Poitou and Aquitaiue, Maine and Anjou — that the rebellion gained ground. Two of the natural sons of the king, who were at that time in England, exerted themselves strenuously in the cause of their father, and one of these — Geoffrey, Bishop of Lincoln- distinguished himself by varioiis successes against the in. surgent barons. Meanwhile, Richard, having fortified a number of castlea of Poitou and Aquitaine, headed a general insurrection of the people of those provinces. Against him, in the year 1174, the king marched his Brabanfon troops, having placed garrisons in Normandy to repel the attacks of tin Ki[jg of France. Henry took possession of the town of Saintes, and also of the fortress of Taillebourg, and in his return from Anjou, devastated the frontier of Poitou, de- stroying the growing crops as well as the dwellings of th& people. On his arrival in Normandy he received news that his eldest son, with Philip, Earl of Flanders, had pre- pared a great armament, with which they were about to make a descent upon the English coast. The king, whose movements on such occasions were unsurpassed for rapidity and energy, immediately took horse, and proceeded to the nearest seaport. A storm was raying as he reached the coast, but Henry immediately embarked ; carrying with him as prisoners his wife Eleanor, and Jlargaret, the wife of his eldest sou, who had not succeeded in following her husband to the court of her father. Henry landed at Southampton, whence he proceeded to Canterbury, for the purpose of imdergoing that extraordi- nary penance, to which some allusion has already been made. It is related that he rode all night, without resting by the way, and that when, at the dawn of day, he came in sight of Canterbvu-y cathedral, he immediately dis- mounted from his horse, throw from him his shoes and royal robes, and walketl tlie rest of the way barefoot, along a stony road. On arriving at the cathedral, the king, ac- companied by a great number of bishops, abbots, and monks, including all those of Canterbury, descended to the crypt in which the corpse of Thomas h Becket was laid. Gilbert Foliot, Bishop of London, addressed the people, and said : " Be it known to all who are here pre- sent, that Henry, King of England, invoking for his soul's salvation God and the holy martyrs, protests before you all that he never commanded nor desired the death of the saint ; but, as it is possible that the murderers availed themselves of some words spoken imprudently, he implores his penance from the bishops now assembled, and is will- loa CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1174. ing to submit hU naked flesh to the discipline of the rods."* The king knelt upon the stone of the tomb, and, stripping off part of his clothes, exposed his back to the scourge. Each of the bishops then took one of the whips with several lashes, used in the monasteries for penance, and each, in turn, struck the king several times on the shoulders, saying, "As Christ remained a day and a night prostrate before the tomb, during which time he took no food, and did not quit the place. The fatigue which he thus underwent brought on a fever, which oontined him during several days to his chamber. The display of repentance, wliether real or assumed, produced a reaction in the king's favour among the people, and he at once recovered the popularity he had lost. It happened Meeting of Henry and Louis on the Plain near Gisors. was scourged for our sins, so be thou for thine own." The rest of the monks present, to the number of about eighty, then took the whips, and it is said that many of these, who were of Saxon descent, gave their blows with vigour, so that the penance endured by the king was not merely nominal. The scourging did not end the acts of humiliation. Henry • fltattliew Paris. that on the day when Henry was thus humbling himself before the tomb of Becket, one of his most powerful ene- mies hail been taken prisoner. William the Lion, of Scot- land, had made a hostile incursion into the lands of the English ; and on the 12th of July, when he was amusing himself by tilting in a meadow with some of his nobles, he was surprised by Ranulph de (Jlauville, and captured, to- scether with those who were with him. The English people. A.D. 1174.] THE KING AND HIS SONS RECONCILED. 199 deeply imbued with the superstition of the time, attributed this success to tbe favour of the martyred archbishop, and they flocked to the standard of the king. Henry was not long in recovering hie strength ; and, taking the field once more, he advanced against the rebellious barons, who gave way and fled at the sound of his approach. Many of their castles were carried by storm, and many were surprised before the inmates had time to escape. So many prisoners were taken that, according to Giraldus Cambrensis, there were hardly cords enough to bind them, or prisons enough to hold them. Having efleotually repressed the revolt in England, Henry passed over with his army into Normandy. The inhabitants a brief resistance, and in a few days raised the siege. Their numerous army retreated hastily before the forces of the English king, who pursued his advantage, and compelled his adversaries once more to come to terms. Louis was again the first to withdraw from the contest, and proposed a conference for arranging terras of peace, to which the princes Henry and Geoffrey reluctantly assented. Richard was supported in his rebellion by Bertrand de Born, lord of Haute-Fort, a distinguished warrior and poet, under whose teaching the natural daring of the prince was fostered, and he received a thorough training in the art of war. Richard at first refused to be included in the truce, but receiving no succour from his allies, he was unable to Penanco of Henrj before the Shrine of Thomas Si Becket.— From an ancient painting on glass, engraved in Carter's Specimens of Ancient Sculpture and Painting. of Poitou and Brittany were not influenced by any venera- tion for St. Thomas a Becket, nor by the humiliations endured by the king at his shrine ; they were not disheartened by their first defeat, and they rose again in rebellion. Meanwhile the Earl of Flanders had resigned his project of invading England as soon as Henry's return thither, and the various successes whioh attended him, were made known. The earl turned his forces in another direction, and having been joined by Henry, the younger king, and by Louis of France, laid siege to the town of Rouen. The attacking forces had scarcely sat down before the place, when Henry, who had returned in haste to the Continent, appeared on the scene of action, and obtained possession of the stores of the French army. Louis and hh aUies made but maintain a defence, and after the loss of many fortresses, he was compelled to return to his father, and implore his pardon. The king, stern and unrelenting towards ordinary offenders, acted with remarkable indulgence towards his rebellious children. An act of reconciliation was agreed upon, by which estates and revenues were assigned to each of the princes ; and Henry made peace with the French king and the Earl of Flanders, on condition that they restored the territories which they had occupied since the commence- ment of the war. On the other hand, Henry agreed to give up those lands whioh he had conquered, and to liberate all his prisoners, with the exception of the King of Scotland, who had been confined in the castle of Falaise. In the fol- lowing month of December (a.d. ll?-!), the Scottish king 200 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1175. obtained liis freedom by doing homage to Henry, and ac- knowledging liimself as his vassal — thus sacrificing nominally the iudepeudeuce of his kingdom. The three princes assented to the terms offered by their father, and promised future honour and obedience to him, the two youuger taking the oath of fealty. In the year 1175 Henry returned to England with his eldest son, and the reconciliation between them was now so complete, that it is related that they ate at the same table and slept in the same bed. At length the country enjoyed a short period of tran- quillity, and eight years elapsed, during which there was peace at home and abroad, and the energies of the king were engage! in promoting reforms in the internal government of the kingdom. His reputation for wisdom and power at this time stood so high, that the Kings of Navarre and Castile, who had been engaged in a prolonged warfare upon a question of territory, agreed to refer their dispute to the decision of the English monarch, and it is related that he delivered a wise and impartial judgment between them. The government of Henry appears to have been in the main a just one, while it was firm, uncompromising, and well calculated to keep in check the unruly tempers of the Norman barons. During his reign the commerce of the country recovered from the depressed condition into which it had previously fallen. From remote parts of the East as well as from the Continent and from Ireland, trading vessels of foreign merchants brought articles of convenience and luxury to London. The wines of France, the furs of Normandy, the spices of Arabia, were among the merchan- dise imported at this time into England, and were employed to minister to that taste for pomp and magnificence which prevailed in the court of Henry II. London was ah-eady a populous city, noted for the wealth and luxury of its citizens, and in this reign it first became generally recognised as the capital of the kingdom. In the city and suburbs there ■were then about thirteen monasteries, and more than a hundred churches, with a fixed population of about 40,000 inhabitants. Industry and the arts were making rapid progress, and labourers and artificers of many different kinds were to be found in the city. Ludgate was at this time the western extremity of London, and where the Strand now pours east or west its stream of busy life, the ground was then divided into fields and orchards, which extended to Westminster. According to Fitz-Stepheu, the biographer of Becket, the citizens of London received the title of barons — a statement which, to say the least of it, is improbable; but there can be no doubt that their wealth and intelligence at this period placed them in a higher position than is generally supposed. Other cities had at- tauied to a high degree of importance, either as depots for home produce or manufactures, as seats of learning, or aa Beaports where the foreign commerce of the country was carried on. Exeter was a fine city, whither merchants re- sorted to trade for the mineral produce of the country, the mines of Cornwall and Devonshire already yielding a large annual revenue to the crown. Bristol conducted an extensive trade with Ireland and the north of Europe. Chester received ships from different countries witli various kinds of merchandise. Lincoln was the seat of extensive home and foreign trade. Winchester and Gloucester were famous for their wines, the vine being then cultivated in the neigh- bourhood with considerable success. Among other cities mentioned by contemporary writers as being wealthy and populous, were York, Norwich, Lynn, Dunwich in Suffolk, Grimsby, Berwick, and Perth. Dublin is described as a splen- did city, worthy to be placed in comparison with Loudon. It is not known with certainty of what the exports of the country at this time consisted ; but it is probable that they were confined to provisions, metals, and wool, or woollen goods. According to William of Malmesbury, England was the granary of Europe, where, in times of scarcity, other nations were sure of obtaining corn at a moderate price. In the year 1182 fresh disputes arose between Henry and his sons. Richard having been called upon to do homage to his elder brother Henry for the provinces of Aquitaine and Poitou, positively refused, and immediately proceeded to put his fortresses in a condition of defence. In tlie beginning of the following year, Henry the younger and Geoffrey marched an army, part of which was composed of the Braban(;on troops, against their brother, and several furious engagements took place between them. The king, alarmed at the grave appearance of the quarrel, recalled his two sons, and on their refusal took up arms in support of Richard. The family war was thus renewed under a new aspect, one of the sons fighting with his father against his two brothers. Contemporary historians speak with a fitting horror of these unnatural contests, and attribute their re- currence to an evil destiny which hung over the race of Plantagenet, as the result of some great crime which re- mained unexpiated. Revolting stories were related of the origin of the family, and of the deeds of its descendants — stories, of which some are evidently fabulous, and others, probably, had little or no foundation in fact. One of these, which is found in the chronicles of Johannes Bromton, may be given as an instance : — ^An ancient countess of Aujou, from whom liing Henry was descended, was observed by her husband to evince great reluctance to entering a church, and when she did visit one, invariably to quit the edifice before the celebration of the sacrament. The husband, whose suspicions were excited, caused her one day to be forcibly detained by four esquires ; but, at the moment of the consecration, the countess threw off the cloak by which she was held, flew out of the church window, and was never seen afterwards. It is related that Prince Richard was accustomed to refer to this anecdote, and to say it was no matter of surprise that he and his family, who had sprung from such a stock, should be on bad terms with each other. In those days poetry played an important part in the political events of the south of France. All transactions of war, and often those of peace, were proclaimed, made known, and commented upon in rhyme. The songs of the Troubadours circulating through the country, and repeated from mouth to mouth, occupied in a great measure the same place in the twelfth century that our new.spapers do in the present day. Among the people of Aquitaine the Queen Eleanor was held in great af- fection, as having been born among them, and the offences of which she was commonly reported to have been guilty were little regarded by a people whose own standard of morality was low. The long imprisonment with which she had been visited by her husband excited their chivalrous feelings, and her wrongs were a favourite tlicme with the poets of her native province. The people rejoiced at an A.i--';'2.] DEATH OF PRINCE HENRY. "^'l opportunity of punishing her husband by any means at tiieir command, and they therefore welcomed the new quarrels which had arisen between the sous and their father. Henry and his son Richard marched against Limoges, wliich was in the possession o<' Henry the younger and Geoffrey. Within a few weeks tne eldest brother deserted the cause of the men of Aquitaine, and gave in his sub- mission once more to his fatlier. Geoffrey, however, re- mained lirm, and, supported by the people, contmued his 0(>|i08iiion. Prince Henry communicated with his brother tlirongh Bertrand de Born, and arranged that a meeting should take place between his father and Geoffrey, for the purpose of arranging terms of peace. When the king arrived at Limoges to attend this conference, he was sur- prised to find the gates of the town shut against him ; and on presenting himself with a small escort before the walls, and demanding admittance, he was answered by a flight of arrows, one of which pierced his armour. An explana- tion ensued, when this occurrence was declared to be a mistake, and the king entered the town, and was met by Geoffrey in an open place, where they began the conference. During the interview a second flight of arrows were dis- charged from the walls of the castle adjoining, one of which struck the king's horse on the head. Henry ordered one of his esquires to pick up the arrow, and, taking it in his hand, he presented it to Geoffrey, with words of sorrow and reproach. These attempts at assassination, as revolting in themselves as they were in defiance of the laws of chivalry, have been attributed by some historians to Geoffrey himself; but there is no sulEcient reason for supposing that they occurred by the son's command. The hot-tempered soldiers of the south, probably, were httle pleased at the prospect of a reconcilia- tion between Geoffrey and his father, which would be made without regard to their interests ; and it is not improbable that of their own accord they took this means of putting an end to the conference. It is stated that the archers who made the attack upon the king were not hired soldiers, but volunteers, who had recently joined the army of Geoffrey. Henry the younger, finding his attempts at mediation frustrated, declared that the men of Aquitaine were obsti- nate rebels, with whom he would never more make peace or truce, but that he would remain true to his father at all times. And yet a month had scarcely elapsed before he again quitted his father, and entered into a league with his adversaries. The Pope now interposed, and by his com- mand the Norman clergy excommunicated the disobedient son — a penalty which the perjuries of the prince had once before called down upon him. It seems improbable that Henry the younger was in the least disturbed by being under the ban of the Church ; but he was induced by some cause to return to his father, who received him once more with forgiveness. The prince promised, in the name of the insurgents, to surrender the town of Limoges ; but if he had their warranty for doing so, they soon repented of their determination. The envoys of the king, who were sent to take possession of the town, were butchered within the walls, and the people, whose national spirit was thoroughly aroused, showed themselves resolved to put down all mea- sures of reconciliation. Not long after these events, the king received a message that his son, having {ailea dangerously ill at Chateau- Martel, near Limoges, was anxious to see him. The king, who remembered the former attempts upon his own life, aa well as the recent assassination of his soldiers, feared to trust himself again among these conspirators. He took a ring from his finger, and giving it to the Archbishop of Bordeaux, desired him to convey it immediately to the prince, with the assurance of his father's love. The arch- bishop executed his mission, and Prince Henry died with the ring pressed to his lips, confessing his undutiful con- duct, and showing every sign of contrition. The younger king was twenty-seven years of age at the time of hi» death, which took place June 11th, 1183. The stern Plantagenet is said to have been struck with, grief at his son's death; but he was not of a nature to waste time in brooding over the irrevocable past. With his sorrow were associated feelings o'f anger against the rebels of Aquitaine, whose hostile attitude had prevented him from attending the deathbed of the prince. The king immediately collected an army, and on the day after the funeral of his son, he took the town of Limoges by assault, and followed up this success by seizing many castles of th© insurgents, which he razed to the ground. Above all the confederates he pursued Bertrand de Born, to whose evil counsel he attributed the numerous acts of rebelUon on the part of the princes. Henry besieged the castle of Haute- Fort, and within a short time it fell into his hands ; and the chief, Bertrand, was conducted as a prisoner to the royal tent. Bertrand, as has been already related, was not only a warrior, but a troubadour of renown, as eminent for gaiety and wit as for valour. He had made satirical poems upon the great King Henry, whom he had boasted that he held neither in respect nor fear. Henry now called him into his presence, to see how this gallant song-maker wotdd comport himself in the face of death. " Bertrand," he said, " thou hast been heard to declare that thou newer requiredst to use more than half thy wit, but now the time has come when thou wilt need it all." "My lord," the troubadour calmly replied, " I did, indeed, say so ; and I said the truth." " And yet I think that thy sense has deserted thee," rejoined the king. " You are right, sire," Bertrand said, in slow and grave tones. " I lost it on the day that the valiant youth thy son expired ; then, indeed, I lost all sense and reason." At the mention of his son, the king gave way to a passion of grief; and, to the astonishment of the court, the judge fainted away at the words of the prisoner. When Henry recovered, all thoughts of vengeance had passed away : the man who stood before him, whatever might be his crimes, had been his son's old friend, and for this causa the king spared his life. "Sir Bertrand, Sir Bertrand!" said he, " thou didst well to lose tny senses for my son's sake, for he loved thee better than any man in the world ; and I, for love of him, give thee thy life, thy wealth, and thy castle." * The death of the younger king caused a reconciliation between the several members of this dissevered family. Even the Queen Eleanor was once more taken for a while into favour ; and in her presence, the Princes Geoffrey and Richard, as well as their younger brother, Prince John, swore to a solemn bond of final peace and concord (a.d. 118-4). The king, distrusting the vmtamed disposition of ♦ "FOMies des Troubadours." 202 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1186. his elder sons, appears to have extended his chief favour and affection towards John. In a few monthis more the peace of the family was again disturbed by Geoffrey, who demanded the earldom of Aujou, and, on being refused, he went over to the French court. Here he passed his time in amusements and dissipations, waiting an opportunity for pursuing his schemes of ambition. One day, when engaged in a tournament, his horse was thrown down, and the prince himself was trampled to death by the horses of the com- batants (a.d. 118G). Six years before the death of Geoffrey, Louis VII. of France had died, and the throne became occupied by his son, Philip II., a young and warlike prince. He it was who had welcomed Geoffrey to the French court, and who now invited his brother Richard to enjoy the same honours. The invitation was accepted, and a great friendship — which, however, was not destined to endure in after years — sprung up between the two princes. This state of things displeased Henry, who sent repeated messages to his son, desiring him to return to England. After various excuses and delays, Richard set out, apparently for that purpose ; but on reach- ing Chinon, where one of the royal treasuries was placed, he carried off the contents by force. The money thus obtained was spent in fortifying castles in Aquitaine, whither he immediately proceeded. The people of that province, dis- gusted with the result of their previous rebellion, offered him no support, and after a short time he was compelled to return to his father. Henry, who had learnt to distrust the efficacy of the most solemn oaths, collected a great assembly of the clergy and the barons to bear witness to his sou's new vows of good faith and duty. , In the following year (1187) the state of affairs in the Holy Land again attracted the attention of the princes of the west. Jerusalem, with its sacred treasures and reUos, had again fallen into the hands of the Mahometans, who were headed by a young and warlike prince, Salah-ed-Deen, commonly called Saladin. The Christian conquerors of the Holy Land were suffering repeated defeats and misfortunes, and the Pope sent messages to the princes of Europe, calhng upon them to arouse themselves, and take up arms in the cause of the cross. Henry of England at once responded to the call, and Philip having determined on a similar course of action, a conference was determined upon between the two kings for the purpose of arranging a permanent peace. The meeting took place as before, in the field beside the elm-tree, between Trie and Gisors. Several envoys of the Pope were present, among whom was the celebrated William, Archbishop of Tyre. The eloquence of this man is said to have tended greatly to the success of the nego- tiations. Suspending the settlement of their differences, the two kings swore to take up arms as brothers in the holy cause, and, in token of their pledge, each received from the archbishop a cross, which he attached to his dress, the cross of the Iving of England being white, and that of the Iving of France red. Having held a council at IVIans to deliberate upon the measures to be pursued for taking the field, Henry returned to England ; and a similar council, composed of the barons of the whole kingdom, was held at Gidington, in North- amptonshire. The lords determined that a tenth of all the property in the kingdom should be levied to meet the ex- penses of the crusade. The men of landed property who accompanied the royal army were to receive the sum levied on their lands, to enable them to take the field, the impost upon the other parts of the country being a£iphed to the usu of the Crown. The sum of £70,000, which was raised by this means, proving insufficient, Henry extorted large sums of money from the Jew.=- and the people of that unhappy race were compelled, by imprisonment and other severe measures, to yield up their hoards. One-fourth of their whole property was thus extorted from the Jews, and pro- bably, in many cases, a much larger sum Notwithstanding all these preparations, and the solemn oath of the two kings, the money thus obtained was not applied to the conquest of Jerusalem. A quarrel took place between Prince Richard and Raymond of St. Gilles, and the people of Aquitaine, once more roused to rebellion, profited by the dispute to form new leagues against the Plantagenet government. The King of France joined the insurgents, and attacked various castles and towns in the occupation of Henry. At length, after a profitless contest of several months, the two kings met once more under the old elm- tree, resolved to arrange a peace. No mockery of solemn engagements took place on this occasion, and Henry and Phihp separated in anger, without having been able to come to an agreement. The young King of France, enraged at the failure of the conference, cut down the elm-tree, swear- ing by the saints that never more should a parley be held under it. This latter revolt on the part of Richard, however unjus- tifiable it might be, was not without some pretext. Ac- cording to an agreement, made in former years, between Henry II. and Louis VII., it had been determined that Richard should marry Alix, or Alice, King Louis's daughter, and the young princess was placed in the hands of Henry until she should arrive at a marriageable age. The war having broken out afresh, and the princes of England being separated from their father, the marriage was deferred, and it was currently reported that Henry had grown enamoured of her, and even that she had become his mistress. It is related that, at the time when his sons were at war against him, the king had determined to make Alice his wife, and that an attempt which he made to procure a divorce from the Queen Eleanor was to be attributed to this partiality. The court of Rome, however, rejected his entreaties and presents, and refused the application. What degree of truth may have existed in these reports cannot now be determined, but it is certain that Henry detained the princess for a number of years, resisting the demands of Philip, and even the order of the Pope, that the marriage between her and Richard should take place. Another plea urged by Richard in justification of his re- belUon, was his belief that his brother John was intended to succeed to the English throne. No circumstances, how- ever, are related by the historians giving reasonable grounds for such an opinion. In November, a.d. 1188, another con- ference took place, and this time at Bonmoulins, in Nor- mandy. Philip demanded that his sister should be un- mediately delivered up to her affianced husband, and that Richard should be declared heir to the English throne in the presence of all the barons of the two countries. Henry, remembering the events which had followed the recognition of the claims of his eldest son, refused to repeat an act which might be attended with similar disturbances. Richard, enraged at this refusal, turned from his father, and, placing his hands in those of the King of France, declared A.D. 1180.] P.F.VOLT OF TIIE BRETONS. 205 himself his vassal, and said that he committed the protection of hia hereditary rights into his hands. Phihp accepted his oath of fealty, and, in return, presented him with some towns conquered by the French troops from his father. Henry quitted the spot in vio- lent agitation, and, mounting iiis horse, he rode to Saumur, there to make his preparations for continuing the war. At tlic : -ws of this new rupture, th» Bretons, who had been quiet for two years, rose once more in revult, and the men nf Poitou declared for Richard so soon as they per- ceived liim to be finally sepa- rated from his fiither. Blaay of the nobles and knights of Henry began to desert him, as they had done before, and the party of his son, supported by the King of France, increased in strength daily. On the other hand, the greater part of the Normans remained faith- ful to their sovereign, and the Pope granted Henry his as- sistance, catising sentence of excommunication to be de- clared against all the adherents of the rebeUious son. But Henry was no longer young. The repeated vexations and misfortunes he had undergone — the wounds he had receiveil from the disobedience of his children— at length produced their effect, and he resigned himself to sorrow, leaving to the legate of the Pope and to the priests the care of his de- fence. They sent repeated messages to Richard and to the King of France, whom they threatened with excom- munication, and, at length, Philip was induced to con- sent to another conference, arranged. Effigy of Eleanor, Queen of Henry II. From the Tomb at Fontevrault. at which peace was to be At this meeting, which took place in the year 1 189, there were present, besides the two kings, Richard, John of Ana. 1189. vain to induce him to retract these words, and he con- tinued repeating them until death laid its finger on his lips (July 6, A.D. 1189). ham the Conqueror. It is related that these hirelings stripped the body of their royal master of the very clothes which covered him, and carried off everything of value from the Richard Coeur de Lion drawing his Sword upon the Cardinal- Legate of the Pope. No sooner had this great king breathed his last, than his servants and attendant.?, one and all, deserted his corpse, as bad happened a century before to that of his ancestor, Wil- chamber. King Henry had desired to be buried at the abbey of Fontevrault, a few leagues to the south of Chinon ; but it was not until after considerable delay that people could be A.T>. 1189.] DEATH OF HENllY II. 'iOf> found to w-rap the body in a shroud, and convey it thither with horses. The corpse was lying in the great church of the abbey, waiting the tims of sepulture, when Richar.i, bore upon them the impress of prolonged agony. The son gazed upon the sight in silence, and with a sudden impulse, he knelt down for a few moments before the altar ; Kichard Cceur-de-Lion beside the Dead Body e£ his Father. wno had received the news of his father's death, arrived at Fontevrault. Entering the church, he conmianded the face ■of the dead king to be uncovered, that he might look upon it for the last time. The features were still contracted, and 18 then, rising up, be quitted the church, not to return. An old superstition of Scandinavia, which had descended alike to Noimans and Saxons, was to the effect that the body of a murdered man would bleed in the presence of *he aU6 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1189. murderer ; and some of the chrouicles relate that from the moment when Richard entered the church, until he had again passed the threshold, blood flowed without ceasing from the nostrils of the dead king. Thus it is evident that contemporary writers regarded the conduct of the sous as having accelerated, if not caused, the leiith of their father. Ileury II. died on the 6th of July, a d. 1189, at the age of filty-six, having reigned nearly thirty-five years. Of the king's personal character, very different estimates have been formed by different historians. Those who look at a many-sided character from their own narrow stand-point, will, necessarily, paint that side only which is presented to them, leaviug the rest in shadow ; and thus we find Henry II. described on the one hand as a man almost without blemish, and, on the other, as utterly destitute of public or private virtue. It appears probable that he had little abstract regard for the welfare of the people, but he was fully alive to his own interests, and he perceived those interests to be bound up in the national prosperity. lie therefore laboured to promote tlse well-being of his sub- jects, as absolute mouarchs, in later times, have done from a similar motive. He was inor.iinately ambitious, and was heard to say, in moments of triumph, that the whole v/orld was a portion little enough for a great man. He was skilled in the arts of diplomacy, and accustomed to use dissimulation and falsehood whenever an advantage was to be gained thereby. Instances have been given of the ungovernable fits of passion to which Henry in his younger days was subject ; these appear to have been much less frequent as he grew past middle age. Without any self-control in moments of anger, he was at other times remarkable for acting with calm judgment and calculation. In his relations with women ho was extremely licentious. » Among his mistresses was one who has been celebrated in various romantic tales, most of which are without any foundation in truth. "Fair Rosamond" was the daughter of Walter Clifford, a baron of Herefordshire, whose castle was situated on one of the heights overlooking the valley of the Wye, between the Welsh Hay and Hereford. Henry fell in love with her before ho ascended the throne, and she bore to him two sons, who have been already mentioned as aiding their father at the time of the partial rebellion in England. One of these was William, called Longsword, from the size of tho weapon which he carried, who married the daughter of the Earl of Salisbury, and succeeded to his estates ; the other was Geoffrey, Bishop of Lincoln, and subsequently Archbishop of York. "While Henry was still a young man, Rosamond retired to the convent of Godestow, near to Oxford, where, after a few years, she died. During her residence there, Henry bestowed many valuable presents i:pon the convent for her sake, and the nuns, who seem to have been actuated by a personal regard for her, as well as by a recollection of the benefits she had conferred upon them, buried her in their choir, burning tapers round her tomb, and showing to her remains other marks of liouour. Henry, Bishop of Lincoln, disapproved of these proceedings, and gave the nuns to understand that one who had led an impure life, oven though the mistress of a king, was not worthy to lie in the sacred edifice. The repentance of Rosamond, wliicli appears to have been sincere, was not permitted to wipe away the shame of the past, and her body wiis removed and buried in the common cemetery. The nuns, however, feared no contamination from the poor remains of their frail sister, and they secretly collected her bones, strewed perfumes over them, and buried them onca more in the church. The story of the bower of Rosamond and of the poisoned bowl forced upon her by the jealousy of Eleanor, cannot be traced to any contemporary source and must be rejected as devoid of truth. Whatever may be the view we take of the character of Henry as a man, there can be no doubt that, as a king, he deserves a high place in English history. In the stormy times of the Middle Ages, better were the wrongs inflicted by an ambitious monarch, than the national corruption and decay which attended the reign of a weak one. Under the rule of Henry Plantagenet, the country made rapid strides in power and influence, and reached that high position among the nations of Europe, which it was destined to maintain in later times. CHAPTER XLV. Kormau Architecture. Edwakd the Confessor, who was more a Norman than a Sa.Kon, and more a churchman than a king, had been brought up at the Norman court ; and, having had his ideas and tastes formed there, on his accession to tho English throne introduced the Norman feshions and man- ners, filled his court with Norman ecclesiastics, and adopted the Norman style of architecture for his ecclesiastical buildings. Shortly before his death he built the abbey church of AV^estminster, which is described by William of Malmesbury* as being constructed in a "new style," and he also says that it served for a model for many subsequent buddings. This edifice, which has long since disappeared, was doubtless in the style he had imported from abroad, and, though built by a Saxon monarch, was, there can be no doubt, a genuine Norman building. Numerous churches and monasteries, foimded on this model, are said to have sprimg up in towns and villages in all direc- tions, and thus we see that the Norman style was established even before the Norman Conquest. That great event confirmed the changes which the Confessor had begun, and the rude Saxon churches were swept away and replaced by the more finished Norman edifices. The Normans were essentially a building people, and no building seems to have been good enough for them, if they had the means of erecting a better. Hence we see a con- tinued change — a constant pulling down and rebuilding on a larger scale ; and to tlii-; must be ascribed the disappear- ance of the buddings \\liich had been erected before the Conquest. It is chiefly in remote places, which were too poor to enlarge their churches, that we JtiU find remains of the original Saxon work. In many of tbe smaller churches, which were erected soon after the Conquest, the Saxon ideas ^till linger ; the towers have the same proportions, and the same general appearance prevails, but the work- manship is better ; the baluster disappiars, and is replaced by a shaft, and the capitals assume more of the Norman • His words are: *' King Edward the Confessor commanded the church at WestirinstvT to be dedic.itud on Innocents' Day. He was buried on ti.e day of iho Epvi)hany, ij the said church, which he first in England had erected after that kind o:' style, which almost ail attempt to rival, at enoimoaa oxpensi." A.D. 1189.] NORMAN ARCHITECTURE. 207 form. This lingering love for the old forms was, doubtless, owing to the necessary employment of Saxon workmen, who naturally still clung to their national style ; but in large buildings, where foreign architects and workmen would be employed, the new style would be exhibited in ) s purity. Canterbury, St. \lbans, Rochester, and Ely were built 111 the reign of the Conqueror, but of these Canterbury is the most interesting, as it so fully illustrates the history of architecture in this kingdom. There was a Saxon cathedral ou the spot at the time of the Conquest, but having been destroyed by fire, it was rebuilt ou an enlarged scale by the Norman archbishop, Lanfranc, in 1070; but, within about twenty years, this church was pulled down by his suc- cessor, as not being large enough, and another erected on a more magnificent scale. This was again partially destroyed by fire, and was again rebuilt in 1175, and the following years. The history of the fire, and the subsequent re- building, has been minutely given by Gervase, a monk of Canterbury, who was an eye-witness of the whole; and his account is peculiarly valuable, as it enables us to com- pare the style of the remains of the old building with that erected under his own eyes ; and we are by this means enabled to point out the differences between the early and the late Norman buildings. His narrative is clear and interesting, and his description of the present building wonderfully correct. St. Albans' Abbey was built in the reign of the Con- queror, and in the construction of the building the mate- rials of the Roman city of Veralam were freely used ; so that a great part of it is built of Roman bricks. The following cathedrals also were built in the Norman period, and still retain portions of the original work : — Lincohi, Rochester, Ely, Worcester, Gloucester, Durham, Norwich, Winchester, Peterborough, and Oxford. Castles were erected in various parts of the kingdom, to restrain the rebellious people, who could ill brook the tyranny of of early Norman, though, from its situation in a uiilitary building, it has less of ornament than might otherwise have been expected. Of Norman castles, the chief parts which remain are the keeps or principal towers, and these have in general one prevailing character. They arc square masses, not having much height in proportion to their breadth, and merely relieved at the angles by slightly projecting turrets. -Norwich Castle, the Conqueror. Of these the Tower of London is one of the most important, and the chapel in the " White Tower" is one of the best examples (dated 1081) we possess 2.— Hedingham Castle, Essex. The windows are in general comparatively small, and the walls exceedingly thick — sometimes, as at Carlisle, reaching to sixteen feet. Norwich (1), from its immense size, is an excellent sample of this kind of tower, and Castle Heding- ham (2) is another. Of the houses of this period many yet exist, though not in an entire state ; and of these some fine specimens are found in Lincoln,* where they are said to have belonged to the Jews, but whose riches at that time only led to their destruction. !Many rich and magnificent examples of monastic buildings of this date occur in various parts of the kingdom. Norman architecture may be divideil into three periods — viz., Early, lliddle, or fully-developed, and Transition ; the first extending from the Conquest, or a few years previous, to the end of the reign of Henry I., 1135 ; the second from the commencement of Stephen to nearly the end of Henry XL, 1180; after which date the Transition commences, and the style gradually loses its characteristics until it merges in the succeeding, or Early English style of the thirteenth century. Of the first period, the chapel in the Tower of London has been already mentioned ai an example; the second includes most of our rich Norman buildings ; and of the third, the Temple Church is a good specimen. The great characteristics of Norman architecture ar« solidity and strength. Walls of an enormous thickness, huge masses of masonry for piers, windows compara- tively small, and a profusion of peculiar ornament, seem to be essential to the full development of the style; and there is • See Hudson Turner'8 " Domestic Archittcture." 20'iS CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1187. a gloomy magnificence in a fine Norman building which is highly impressive ; its walls seem as firmly fixed in the earth as the iron foot of the Conqueror was on the neck of a prostrate nation. The characteristics of Norman architecture are the following : — Towers. — These are in general rather low for their breadth. They are more massive than the Saxon ones which preceded them, and this is particularly the case with the later buildings. Many of the church towers which were built soon after the Conquest have very much of the Saxon character remaiuing, and are proportionably taller than those of later date, but the workmanship is better. A large belfry window, divided by a shaft, in the upper storey, is a common feature ; and the surface of the tower is fre- quently ornamented with stages of intersecting or plain arcades, and sometimes the whole surface is covered with ornament. The angles of the tower are strengthened by flat buttresse? having but little projection, which sometimes reach to the top of the building, and sometimes only to the first or second storey. The parapets of most Norman towers are destroyed, and it is consequently difficult to say what they were orif^inally ; but it seems probable that the towers terminated in a pointed roof. Staircases were of common occurrence, and are frequently made very ornamental features. WiXDOWs. — These are universally round-headed, except in the transition period. The simplest form is a narrow round-headed opeuing, with a pjain dripstone ; but they are frequently wider and divided into two lights by a shaft, and richly ornamented with the zigzag and other mouldings. Doorways.— ^These are the features on which the most elaborate workmanship was bestowed by the Norman architects, and it is perhaps to be attributed to this, that so many of them have been preserved ; the Norman doorway having frequently been retained when the church was re- built. They are always, except in the transition period, semicircular, and are very deeply moulded. They are frequently thiea or four times recessed, and are richly ornamented with the peculiar decorations of the style, the most characteristic of which ia the zigzag or chevron moulding. A peculiar head having a bird's beak, and called a " beak-head," is frequently used, and medallions of the signs of the zodiac are not uncommon. The jambs of the door are ornamented with shafts which are some- times richly ornamented, and have elaborately sculptured capitals. The doorway itself is frequently square-headed, and the tympanum or space between this and the arch is filled with srulpture representing the Trinity, the Saviour, saints, or soma symbolical design or monstrous animal, and sometimes ni'jrely foliage. There are a few doorways which are trefoil-headed instead of circular. PoncHES.— The Norman porch is in general little more than a doorway, the little projection it has from the wall being inteudc I chiufly to give greater depth to the door- way, which is very deeply recessed, and it is in these porches that we find the richest doorways, the arches and shafts being overlai.l with the utmost profusion of ornament, which, though sometimes rude, always produces a fine effect, and there is scarody any architectural feature which is so universally admired ; other styles may be more chaste and more finished, but there is a grandeur about a rich Norman doorway which is jjcculiarly its own. Akciies.— The semicircular is the characteristic form of the Norman arch, but there are few early examples in which the pointed arcli was used, supported by massive piers ; they are not likely to be mistaken for those of the next style. In the transition the pointed arch is very :requently used. Sometimes the arch is brought in a littla at the impost, when it is called a horse-shoe arch ; and sometimes the spring of the arch is above the impost, and is carried down by straight lines. They are then said to be stilted. Piers and Pillars. — The piers in early buildings were very massive, consisting frequently merely of heavy square masses of masonry with nothing but the impost moulding to relieve their plainness. Sometimes they \vere recessed at the angles, and sometimes they were circular, with capitals and bases, but still of very large diameter. As the style advanced they were reduced in thickness, and had richly sculptured capitals and bases, frequently orna- mented with sculpture at the angles. In the transition period the pillars became slender and clustered, with little to distinguish them from the next style. The Galilee at Durham is an excellent example of late Norman ; the round arch and the zigzag mouldings are stiU retained, but the pillars are as slender as those of the early English. Capitals. — The capital is the member by which the styles are more easily distinguished than by any other. In the Saxon style we have seen that the Corinthian capital was rudely imitated ; and we find in the early Norman this imitation continued, but with more resemblance to the 3.— Early Norman Capital, from the Tower of London. original, as will be better shown when we come to describe the specimen from the White Tower (3), and this imitation was more and more complete as the style advanced. The general form of the plain capital is that of a hemi- sphere cut into four plain faces ; this form is called a cushion capital. This may be considered as the funda- mental form from which other varieties are worked. It ia sometimes' doubled or nmltiplied, and sometimes highly ornamented, as in the examples from Durham, where they are so overlaid with ornament that it is difficult to distin- guish the original form. The abacus, or upper member of the capital, will at once distinguish the Norman from aU other styles, and throughout Gothic architecture it is the feature most to be depended on in distinguishing one style from another. In the Norman it is square in section, with th<» corner edge sloped or chamfered off. It is com- A.D. 1189.J XORilAN BUILDINGS AND ORNAMENTS. 209 2*l0ULDING3 AND ORNAMENTS. — TheSC are extremely numerous ; the ornamented moulJiiigs are almost endless in variety, but the most general is the zigzag, which is used for decoration in all places, both simple and in every variety of combination, sparingly in the early buildings, but pro- fusely in the later ones. The billet is much used in early work, as is also a peculiar kind of shallow lozenge, and other orna- ments, which required little skill in the execution. When large and otherwise blank spaces of walls, eithtr on fronts or towers, have to be relieved, it is frequently done by introducing stages of intersecting arcades — a fine example of which occurs at St. Botolph's Prio) y, Essex (6). There is a peculiar kind of ornament which is used lo relieve surfaces of blank spaces, either over the arches or the inte- rior, or in the heads of wii)dow-ix>rches, &c. Tliis Ls frequently called diaper tcork; and cousists either of linos cut in the stone in the form of a trellis, or in imitation of scale-work, arches, &c., as on the tower here engraved. DEscuirTioN OF THE Illustrations.-^ St. James's Tower, Bury St. Edmunds (-i).— This is ail example of an early Norman tower, and clucid;ites several of the jecu- liarit":s in t!ic preceding remurks. It exhibits the flat, piJ-isler-liko buttresses, so charac 4.— St. James's Tower. Bury St. Edmunds. monly quite plain, but sometimes it is moulded, and sometimes highly ornamented, as in the example from Durham (C) ; but in all cases it retains its primitive and distinctive form. 5. — St. EotuI;iIi's i'rlory. 6.— Portion of a Doorway, Durham CathoJrr.L 210 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1189. teristic of Norman work. Secondly, a porch flanked by two pedimented buttresses, ornamented with corbel-tables and intersecting arcades. The arch is plainer than it would have been at a later period, but it exhibits the billet mould- ing which is also used on the buttresses. The capitals are of the plain cushion form, and the pediment of the porch exhibits the scalework surface ornament already mentioned. Other varieties of this ornament also occiir in the heads of the lower windows, and in the arcade in the middle storey. The zigzag in this example is only used for a string course. for these to be occupied with the signs of the zodiac. The arch exhibits a rich series of zigzags ; the abacus of the capitals is of the usual Norman form, but has its upright face ornamented with what is an evident imitation of a classical form, generally known as the Grecian honey- suckle. The capitals are of the usual cushion shape, but overlaid with foliage and monstrous animals. The shapes exhibit two varieties of ornamentation, much used in very rich doorways. The first two are fluted spirally in opposite directions, and the third exhibits a kind of diaper work, Bichard Coeur-do-Lion. A capital from the Chapel in the Tower of London is given as a very good example of the early Norman form of capital. It exliibits the volutes at the angles and the plain block in the centra, in room of the caulicoli, and is surrounded by a peculiar stitf kind of foliage, the whole being an evident but rud imitation of tbe Corinthian capital. The volutes and the centre block are common features of early Norman capitals, but the foliage is rare. It occurs also iu the work of Remigius, at Lincoln Cathedral. A portion of Doonoay, Durham Cathedral, is given as an example of rich Norman, and exhibits the peculiar mouldings and ornaments of the style. The dripstone shows a rude kiml of foliage, on which are placed at inter- vals medallions containing animals, &c. It is not unusual being a modification of the zigzag, in which the interstices are filled with foliage. CHAPTER XLVI. Accession of Richard I., Surnameci Ctour-iie-Lion, ad. 11S9 -Massacre of the Jewo— The Third Crusade. No sooner bad the monks of FontevrauU committed thi> body of Henry to the grave, than Richard assumed tlie sovereign authority, and his first acts were marked with ali that energy and determination which afterwards distin- guished him. He at once gave orders that the per.son o! Steplien of Tours, senesclial of Anjou, and treasurer ol Henry, should be seized. Tliis f-mclionary was tliiown into a dungeon, where be was confined with irons on his feet and bauds, until he had given up to the new king, not A.D. 1180.] ACCESsio>T OF rjciiAno I. 211 oDly all the treasures of the crown, but also his own pro- perty. Richard then called to his councils the advisers of his father, and discarded aU those men who hud supported his own rebellion, not excepting even his most familiar friends. This policy, which has been attributed by some historians to the repentance of Richard, was more probably the result of profound calculation, and was based upon sound reasoniDg. The men who were ready to plot against her prison she was temporarily invested with the office of regent, and during the short period of authority which she thus obtained, she occupied herself in works of mercy and benevolence. The long imprisonment she had undergone appeared to have softened her imperious temper ; she listened readily to those who had complaints to lay before her, and pardoned many oftonders against the crown. Having proceeded to Winchester, where she took ;-ossession iiichard causing the Gold and Jewels to bo weighed in his presence. one monarch, would not hesitate to do the same towards another, when occasion served, or offence was given ; while those who had supported the reigning dynasty were ihe men upon whom the new king might most safely depend. Messengenj were immediately sent to England com- manding the release of the Queen Eleanor. On quitting of the royal treasures, she summoned a great assembly of the barons and ecclesiastics of the country to receive the new monarch and tender him their allegiance. After a delay of two months, Richard crossed the channel, accom- panied by his brother John, and landed at Portsmouth. On his arrival at Winchester he caused the gold and jewels of the crown to be weighed in his presence, and an inventory 212 CASSKLL'S ILLUSTRATED rilSTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1189. made of thein. A similar course was pursued iu the cities in wliich treasures of the late king had beeu deposited. Eichard was absorbed in the project of a grand expedition to the Holy Laud, which should reduce the infidel to per- manent submission, and place himself on the highest pin- nacle of military renown. To this circumstance we may in some degree attribute the fact that the ambitious John per- mitted his brother to succeed to the throne without any attempt to dispute his right. John probably calculated that in the king's absence the actual sovereignty would devolve upon himself, and that the impetuous Richard might never return from the dangers of the holy war. Apart from these considerations, however, it is doubtful whether the weak temper of John would have permitted him to rebel openly against his powerful and energetic brother. Ou the 3rd of September, Richard was crowned at West- minster, and the ceremonial was conducted with great pomp and splendour. The procession along the aisles of the cathedral was headed by the Earl of Albemarle, who carried the crown. Over the head of Richard was a silken canopy, supported by four lances, each of which was held by one of the great barons of the kingdom. The Bishops of Bath and Durham walked beside the king, whose path to Jhe altar was spread with a rich carpet of Tyrian purple. The ceremony was performed by Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, and Richard took the customary oath to fear God and execute justice. The cloak, or upper clothing, of the king was then taken off, sandals of gold were placed upon his feet, and he was anointed with oil upon the head, breast, and shoulders ; afterwarcTs receiving the insignia of his rank from the state officers in attendance. Richard was then led to the altar, where he renewed the vows he had taken ; and, lifting with his own liands the crown Crown of the 12tb Century. From the Tomb of Richai-d, at Fontevrault. from off the altar, — which he did in token that he- received it from God alone, — he gave it to the archbishop, who placed it upon his head. The day of the new king's coronation was marked by an event which resulted iu an attack upon all the Jews assembled in the city, who were barbarously murdered with their wives and children. In the Middle Ages, while the science of finance was in its infancy, and men had not yet learned to associate together for purposes of trade, the Jews were the principal, if not the only, bankers of Chris- tendom. There were no laws in existence to regulate the interest of money, and their profits were frequently enormous. The wealth which they thus obtained, no less than the obnoxious faith to which they firmly adhered, caused them to become objects of hatred to the people; and this feeling was increased at the date of the new crusade, in consequence of the increased rate of interest they de- manded from men who were about to risk their lives in that dangerous jrurney. During the reign of Henry II. the Jews had enjoyed some degree of protection, and had, accordingly, increased in numbers and wealth. In France, they were less fortunate. On the accession of PhUip II. he had issued an edict ordering the banishment of all the Jews from the kingdom, and the confiscation of their pro- perty. Hated by the people, the persecuted race had no other hope than in the favour of the prince, and, fearing that Richard might be disposed to follow the example of his ally, the King of France, they determined to secore his protection by presents of great value. At the coronation of Richard, the chief men of the Jewish race proceeded to AVestminster to lay their offerings at his feet. Being apprised of their intention, Richard, who is said to have feared some evil influence* from their presence, issued a proclamation, forbidding Jews and women to be present at Westminster on that day, either in the church, where he was to receive the crown, or in the hall, where he was to take dinner. Some of the Jews, however, trusting that the object of their errand would excuse the breach of the royal command, attempted to enter the church among the crowd, and were attacked and beaten by the king's servants. A report was then rapidly circulated among the multi- tude outside, that the king had delivered up the unbelievers to the vengeance of the jjeople. Headed by some of the lower class of knights and nobles, who were not sorry to get rid of men to whom they owed large sums of money, the crowd surrounded the un- happy Jews, and drove theia along the streets with staves and stones, killing many of them before they could reach the doors of their houses. At night the excitement spread throughout the town, and the populace attacked the dwell- ings of the hated race iu every direction. These being strongly bamcaded from with- in, were set on fire by the mob, and all the inmates who were not destroyed in the flames, and who attempted to escape by the doora, were received on the swords of their adversaries. At the commencement of the riot, the king made some attempt to appease it, by sending the justiciary of the king- dom, Ranulph de Glanville, with other officers, to interpose their authority. They, however, were compelled to fly for their lives, and returned to the king, who seems to have liad little real concern about the matter. While the worjf of caruage was proceeding, he remained seated at the ban- quet, and he afterwards took no steps to punish the mur« derers. He, however, issued a proclamation, ia which he declared the Jews to be under the protection of the crown, and forbade any man to molest or plunder them. Statue of ilicliard I. in the Choir of YorK Cathedi'al. * It was a common belief among the people of this superstitious age, tlut tlio Jews were guilty of the practice of sorcery. A.D. 11900 THE THUID CRUSADE. 213 AEusion has already been made to the expedition known as the Second Crusade, which was headed by Louis VII. of France and the Emperor Conrad of Germany. Although 200,000 persons perished in this crusade, it is by no means to be ranked in importance mth those which preceded and | followed it. Although preached with all the zeal of the celebrated St. Bernard, Abbot of Clairvaux, who was noted equally for eloquence and jsiety, its acceptance was confined to France and Germany, and it took the character of a great mihtary expedition rather than of a popular move- ment. The result of the expedition was disastrous, and the princes returned to England with only the scattered remnant of their noble army. The events of this crusade being in themselves comparatively unimportant, and having only an indirect connection with English history, it has not been considered necessary to relate them in detail. The state of affairs in the East, which induced the kings of France and England to determine upon a third crusade, has been referred to in a preceding chapter. To raise money for the expedition to Palestine, Richard adopted a policy similar to that which, in the reign of Stephen, had so greatly reduced the revenues of the state. He pubUcly sold the estates of the crown to the highest bidder — towns, castles, and domains. Many rich Normans of low birth thus became possessed of lands which, at the time of the Conquest, had been distributed among the immediate followers of' William ; and many men of Saxon race availed themselves of the opportunity to recover the houses of their fathers, and, under a quit rent, became the lawful owners of their places of abode. The towns which concluded these bargains became corporations, and were organised under a municipal government. In the reigns of Richard I. and his successors many of these conventions took place, by which the cities of England gradually re- deemed themselves from the condition into which they had fallen at the Norman Conquest.* In these transactions Richard appears to have been influenced solely by his deter- mination to obtain money ; and when some of his courtiers ventured to remonstrate with him, he said that he would sell London itself, if he could find a buyer.t Titles and offices of state were ako sold without scruple. Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham, purchased the earldom of Northumberland, and also obtained, for a payment of 1,000 marks, the chief justiciarship of the kingdom. It has been already related that, at the time of Richard's acces- sion, this office was held by Ranulph de Glanville, a man of great abUity and undoubted probity. One account tells us that GlanvUle resigned the office for the purpose of joining the crusade ; but other historians relate that he was driven from it by the king, who was wilhng to obtain money even by the disgrace of an old and valuable servant of the crown. Vacant ecclesiastical benefices were filled up by the appoint- ment of those who could best afford to pay for them. In addition to the sums raised by these measures, Richard obtained 20,000 marks from the King of Scotland, who in return was released from the obligation of servitude to the English crown. While Richard thus appeared to be making every pre- paration for the expedition to the Holy Land, he showed no hurry to leave his new kingdom ; and Philip of France, with whom he had engaged to join his forces, sent ambas- * Hallam's "History of the Middle Ages," t Guil. Neubrig, sadors to England to announce his intention to depart afc the ensuing Easter. Richard then convoked an assembly of the nobles of the kingdom, and declared his intention to proceed to the Holy Land in company with liis brother of France. He placed the regency in the hands of AVilliam Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, and Hugh Pudsey, Bishop of Durham ; the former of whom succeeded, not long after- wards, in securing the entire authority into his own hands. Prince John was thus deprived of the position which ha had calculated would fall to him, and he received, by way of compensation, a pension of 4,000 marks, the territory of JMortaigne in Normandy, and the earldoms of Derby, Not- tingham, Gloucester, Somerset, and Lancaster in England. These estates comprised a third part of the kingdom. Early in the following year (1190) Richard crossed the Channel into Normandy, and soon afterwards a meeting took place between the two kings of France and England, at which they bound themselves to a compact of brother- hood and alliance, eacli swearing to maintain the life and honour of the other as he would his own. The death of the young Queen of France caused a delay in the departure of the expedition, and it was not until Midsummer that the armies of the two kings a-ssembled for that purpose. The aUied forces are said to have numbered 100,000, and having been united on the plains of Vezelai, they marched in com- pany to Lyons. At this point the two kings separated. Philip, who possessed no fleet or seaport town on the Medi- terranean, proceeded by land to Genoa, that powerful re- public having agreed to fur- nish a fleet of transports for the convoy of his troops. Richard was in possession of the powerful fleet built by his father for the voyage to Palestine, as well as of trading vessels which he had himself selected from different seaports, and he, therefore, had no need to make the journey across the Alps. He proceeded from Lyons to Marseilles, where he proposed to embark. The fleet, however, had not arrived when the king reached the coast. On leaving England the ships were placed under the care of two bishops and three knights, who received the title of constables. In crossing the Bay of Biscay, they encountered a violent storm, which caused them considerable damage, and at length compeDed them to put into the Tagus, where they arrived successively. The ICing of Portugal was then at war with the Moors, and having obtained the assistance of a body of the CrusadtTs, he compelled the enemy to retreat. The king, however, soon had reason to dread the presence of his friends almost as much as that of his enemies. The soldiers of the fleet landed at Lisbon, where they indulged, in their customary manner, in plunder and licentiousness. The inhabitants took up arms for the defence of their >vives and pro- perty, and various encounters, attended with bloodshed, occurred between them and the Crusaders. Sancho, the reigning king, then closed the gates of the town, and made prisoners such of the Crusaders as were within the walls. Tlie EngUsh retaliated by seizing any of the Portuguese who came in their way. An agreement was then entered Shield of a Templar. 214 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF' ENGLAND. [a.d. 1190. ■ into, by which hostilities were suspended, the prisoners were released, and the Crusaders set sail from Lisbon. The fleet, which now numbered more than one hundred sail, arrived in four weeks at Marseilles, whither it proceeded to •iVIessina. Meanwhile Richard, whose impetuous nature could ill «ndure delay, had hired a number of vessels at Marseilles, View of part of the Town of Genoa. From an ancient Engraving. in which he embarked a body of his troops ; and after visiting Genoa, where he met the King of France, he arrived at Naples. It would appear that Cceur-de-Lion was at this time not without some sort of religious feeling, since it is recorded that, during his stay at Naples, he paid a, voluntary act of devotion to the patron saint of that city. Having visited the sanctuary of St. Januirius, he entered a crypt, and told his orisons, surrounded by the bodies of the dead, which were arranged in niches around the walls. Those ghastly figures, dry and shrivelled, were arrayed in their usual dresses, and in the deep gloom of the crypt, appeared as if they were alive. After having made an excursion through the surrounding neighbourhood, Richard arrived on the shore of the narrow strait which divides Sicily from Calabria, whence he was conveyed to the harbour of Messina. The French king had already arrived, antl sosn afterwards set sail with tlie view or' continuing his voyage to the East. His ships, however, experiencofl bad weather, which comp'/lled them to return to the port, and the two kings then arranged to remain there during the winter. The island of Si ily, which in the preceding century had been conquered by the Norman lords of Apulia and Calabria, then formed, together with a part of lower Italy, a kingdom which was under the control of the Holy See. Not many years before, under the reign of William I., the country had been in a prosperoiis condition, but now it was weakened Medals of William I. or William II. of SicUy. by internal dissensions and in no position to offer a success- ful defence to attacks from without. 'WilUam II., sur- naraed the Good, had married Richard's sister Joan, who bore to him no children. Anxious to preserve the succes- sion to his family, he caused his aunt, the Princess Con- stance, who was the only legitimate member of the family, to be married to Henry, son and heir of the Emperor Frederick Barbarossa. By securing to hei- a powerful husband, able to support her claims, the king trusted to overcome that opposition to a female sovereign which was Hkely to be even greater in Sicily than in other countries of Europe. Constance, at the age of thirty-two, was con- siderably older than her husband ; but her dower was rich, and this, joined to the prospect of the succession, proved attraction sufficient for the young prince. He married her in the year 1186, at Milan. In November, 1189, William the Good died, appointing by his will that his aunt Constance should be his successor. The barons of the kingdom had previously taken an oath of fealty to the princess, but that oath, as well as the will of the king, was entirely disregarded. The nobles were necessarily indisposed to submit to the rule of a foreign prince, and the aggressions of the German emperors in the north of Italy had given good cause for dread of any further increase of their power. Constance and Henry were also out of the country at this critical moment, and the barons, after various disputes among themselves, conferred the crown upon Tancred, Count of Lecce, cousin to William the Good, though reputed to be illegitimate by birth. The new king was hailed by the people with acclamation, and was acknowledged by the Pope, Clement HI., who sent him the customary benedic- tion. His reign, however, had no sooner commenced, than various conspiracies were formed against him by the barons who had been competitors for the throne, and though he had succeeded in reducing these to submission, he was threatened by Henry, who had now become emperor, and who war prepaifing a powerful army to support the claims of his wife Constance. Such was the position of affairs in Sicily at the time of the arrival of the kings of England and of France. Both monarchs were received by Tancred with every token oi honour and hospitality ; Philip was entertained within the Willis of the city, and Richard took up his quarters in a bouse without the walls, situated in the midst of a viney.-ird. On one occasion, when Richard was making an excursion in the neighbourhood of Messina, attended by a single ^oight, he passed through a village, in which he saw a A.D. 1190.] KICIIAUDS IMPETUOSITY. 215 hawk standing before a cottager's door. According to the laws of the European kings, it was forbidden to yeomen and townspeople to keep that noble bird, which was con- sidered the exclusive property of the great. Richard, with his accustomed carelessness of consequences, took up the poor man's hawk, and carried it away on his wrist. The Sicilian peasant, though under the rule of a Xorman cooqueror, had not yet learned submission to such treat- ment as this. Joined by some of his friends, he followed the king, and drawing his knife, attacked him. Richard drew his sword, and for a while he kept the peasants at bay ; but the sword broke in his hand, and he was com- pelled to take to flight. The enraged villagers pursued him closely with sticks and stones, and probably the life of Cceur-de-Liou was saved by his reacliing the gates of a priory, in which he took shelter. borders of the strait, overlooking the English camp, there was a convent of Greek monks, having a strong natural ' position, and capable of being easily fortified. Richard I drove out the monks, and placed in their stead a strong I garrison, who turned the monastery into a fortress, and issued thence on Ucentious excursions through the towu^ and the neighbourhood. The disorders of the foreignsal 1 at length aroused the indignation of the SiciUans, who, ; jealous of the honour of their wives and daughters, suddenly attacked the English, who were in the city, and at the I same time closed the gates of the town. The whole camp i speedily took to arms, and assembled without the walls, : making a reckless and unorganised assault upon them. [ Richard having received news of the tumult, mounted his ': horse and rode hastily r.::iong his soldiers, beating them I back with a truuolieon which he carried in his hand. By Falcous. Falco sacer. Falco lialumbariua. I''alix> niti'.s. . Alter having remained for a very brief period in tran- | exertions of this kind, joined to the influence of his quillity, Richard found in the position of his sister Joan a ! character, he succeeded in restraining his troops, not, cause of quarrel -"vith the King of Sicily. At the time of i however, before some animosities which had arisen between the marriage of IL it princess with William the Good, a i them and the French soldiers had found vent in several splendid dower had been given to her by her husband, ; partial combats. The kings of France and England held including many towns and cities, and territory of con- '■ a solenm meeting, at which to arrange against future siderable extent. When Tancred ascended the throne, he i difierences of this kind, as well as to determine upon a peace withheld these broad lands, part of which, however, were l with the Sicdians. On the hill overlooking a camp a occupied by nobles who were in rebelKon, and which, : number of the natives were assembled, and, during the therefore, it would not have been easy to deUver up. J conference, they attacked a few stragglers from the Norman Ricliard first demanded that his sister should be sent to : camp. Having learnt the cause of the uproar, Richara him, and when the request was complied with, he sent immediately called liis men to arms, drove the Sicihaus other messengers requiring the whole of her dower. Without waiting for an answer, the impetuous prince passed over to the Calabrian shore, and seized possession of the castle of Bagnara. Here he left his sister, defended by a body of troops, and returned to JVlessina. On the from the hill, and foUoweil them to the walls of the city, which the English now attacked under the direction of their prince. The troops of Tancred made little resistance against their impetuous assailants; the town was carried by storm, and Richard raised his banner on the walls as 21o CAS3ELL-S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OF ENGLAl^D, [a.d. 1190. though the town had become exclusively his. The jealousy of Philip was excited, and a rupture took place between the two princes, which was only appeased by the town In addition to the territories assigned to Joan as a dowry, she was entitled, as Queen of Sicily, to a golden table, twelve feet long, and a foot and a half broad ; a golder 'i I, 'c„i( Richard Cceur-de-Lion before the Shrmc of it. Jauunrius. (See page 21-i ) •being given into the hands of the Knights Hospitallers and i chair ; two golden tressels for supporting the tabk . Knifhts Templars, who were to hold possession of it until ' twenty-four sUver cups, and as many silver dishes, the "claims of Richard against Tanored had been fiually , Williara the Good had left in his will to Henry II. a con- -adinsted tribu'.ou towards the Holy War in. which that prince was A.D. U'Jl.] RICHARD'S PRODIGALITV. 217 proposing to engage. This legacy consisted of a tent of silk to accommodate 200 persons seated, C0,000 measures of wheat, and 60,000 of barley, with 100 armed galleys, equipped and provisioned for two years. Henry II. died before his son-in-law, and, therefore, Richard could prefer no legal claim in right of his father. He nevertheless demanded that all these thiugs should be given up to him, as well as the treasures to which his sister was entitled. An agreement was ultimately entered into, by which a sum of 20,000 gold oncie was paid to Joan, and a further sum of 20,000 oncie to Richard, in satisfaction of their several demands. The legality of Richard's claim was not which he dazzled the eyes of his followers. Soldiers of fortune of every country came to offer their swords to Cceur-de-Lion, and were received with welcome and enter- tainment. Tournaments and spectacles of various kinds succeeded each other; the sounds of mirth and music re- sounded through the camps ; troubadours and jongleurs offered their feats of skill, or songs of war and beauty, secure of a liberal reward. Relying upon his strong arm to replenish his coffers, Richard showered gifts and largesses upon all comers; and, at a great banquet which he gave to the knights of both armies, he sent away each of his guests with a large present of money. Thus, throughout Isaac of Cyprus praying Coeur-de-Lion for tho restoration of his Daughter. (See page 'J20. ) acknowledged, but the money was paid to him ostensibly on a treaty of marriage, which was concluded between his young nephew Arthur and an infant daughter of Tancred. The payment thus took tho form of a dower, and was to be returned in case either of the children died before they reached a marriageable age. The money of which Richard thus became possessed was lavished with the titmost prodigality. His tastes were mag- nificent ; and the extraordinary fame which he had acquired throughout Europe was due no less to his own gigantic strength and brilliant valour than to the glittering halo of romance which surrounded him, and the splendour with 19 the winter, the soldiers of the north gave themselves up to luxury and pleasure under the sunny sky of Sicily. But Coeur-de-Lion was no mere voluptuary. If, in many ' respects, he bore a resemblance to the gallant but ill-fated Robert of Normandy, he possessed, at the same time, a degree of intellectual power and energy little inferior to that of William the Conqueror. Amidst the glare of rich banquets and gorgeous spectacles, amidst the tinkling of harps whose strings were attuaed to flattery, and the glances of bright eyes, which brought their tribute of admiration to the young prince of the Lion Heart, his ardent nature languished and longed for activity. There 218 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1191. was a stroug impulsive force withiu the men of those days, which reuderei exertion the only pleasure — ease and rest a puuishmeut not to be endured. Cut off for a time from the excitements of battle, Richard sought occupation in the fleld of theological controversy and the exercises of re- ligion. At this time a certain Calabriau monk, named Joachim, Abbot of Curacio, had made himself famous throughout Europe by his writings and preachings against the abuses of the court of Rome. We have already seen how, at intervals during the Middle Ages, some sandalled monk would rise up from obscurity, and, by the mere force of iutelleot, with no advantages of outward circumstances, would obtain a power over the minds of men, compared to which tliat of princes was as nothing. This influance was of a purely personal nature, and was attained by the gift of eloquence. The books which Abbot Joachim had written would have availed little — they appealed only to the few who could read them, and to posterity — but the man could speak his thought in the ear of the present. We know little, in these later times, of the meaning of the word eloquence — we apply it to what is written— to thoughts ex- pressed upon inanimate paper — dull and lifeless, as words irom the mouth of a statue. The growth of civilisation is un&vourable to eloquence, for civilisation is built up of laws and customs, and the language of the heart defies all law, and pays no deference to expediency. The modern te.ioher dares not trust his heart. Sermons are written, speeches are prepared, periods carefully rounded, senti- ments weighed in the nicest balance — even the tone of the voice, and the motion .of the arm — ;»re studied beforehand und?r a master. The influence attained is exactly com- mensurate with the means employed, and the listeners find themselves on a level of caution, equally removed from danger on the one hand, or of excellence on the other. But such a level is not the normal condition of the human mind. When, at rare intervals, the torch of enthusiasm is lighted by some earnest man, thousands will burst away to follow the flame, though it lead them to utter destruction. If, in our own day, we have seen many of the intelligent people of this country quitting their homes to seek a Utopia of sensualism among the wilds of the far West — if we have seen them listening to evil counsel, warmly urged, while the voice of the minister of religion fell unheeded on their ears, as that of a paid advocate of virtue — we may understand the influence exercised in earlier times by those whose eloquence derived new force and authority from their sacred calling. Richard Coeur-de-Lion, like his ancestors, recognised that subtle force of intellect whose influence among men sur- passed that of laws or armies. He heard of the fame of the Abbot Joachim, and desired to see him. The king and the monk met together at Messina, where a long theological discussion took place between these strange disputants. Joachim, like all the other clergy of the age, gave his au- thority in favour of the Crusade. He assumed the gift of inspiration, and, like a prophet of old, told the king to go forth and conquer : the infidel should be scattered before the Christian host, and the banner of the cross be raised once more over the walls of Jerusalem. Those were but the ravings of fanaticism, and were utterly falsified by the event ; but their influence, meanwhile, was none the less upon those who listened and regarded the speaker as a prophet. Richard's mind was of higher order, and he is said to have called the monk a vain babbler, whoso words were unworthy of attention. It is not probable, however that he expressed such an opinion publicly, for he could not be insensible to the effect of such predictions upon the minds of his soldiers. Not long after this discussion, Richard rode to the town of Catania, where he had appointed to meet Taucred for the first time. With all the state and magnificence suited to • the occasion, the two kings walked in procession to the church, where, forgetting all former difi'erenoes, they took vows of mutual friendship, and performed their devotions together before tlie shrine of St. Agatha. On the return of Cojur-de-Lion to Messina, the Sicilian king accompanied him for many miles, and at the moment of parting gave into his hands a letter written by Philip of France, in which Philip proposed to ally himself with Tanored, and to drive the English monarch out of the country. Some days elapsed before Richard made any use of this communication ; but he met Philip with haughtiness and reserve, and frequent disputes took place between them. At length, during one of these altercations, Cceur-de-Liou suddenly produced the letter, and asked whether he know the handwriting. Philip indignantly declared it to be a forgery, and accused Richard of seeking a cause of quarrel, by which means he might break oiT his contract of marriage with the Princess Alice, Philip's sister. Richard replied calmly that he could not marry the lady Alice," since it was well known that she had born a son to his father, King Henry. This circumstance, if true, was well known to Richard during his father's lifetime, when he had so frequently demanded that his bride should be given up to him — a request which, it is evident, had merely been made as a pretext for rebellion. Richard now offered proofs of what he had alleged, and, whatever may have been the force of these proofs, Philip consented to give up the contest. In the days of chivalry, as now, money was accepted in com- pensation for breaches of such contracts, and PhiUp sold the honour of his sister for an annual pension of 2,000 marks for five years. For this sum he gave Richard permission to marry whoever he pleased.* Coeur-de-Lion had already chosen his bride. Some three years before, while staying at the court of Navarre, he had fallen in love with Berengaria, the daughter of the king of that country. The young princess is described as having been very beautiful, of extremely youthfnl and delicate appearance, presenting in every respect the most striking contrast to the robust frame and gigantic presence of her lover. Their passion seems to have been more romantic and sincere than usually happens in similar cases. It is certain that Richard asked for no dowry with his bride, sought for no political advantages, but merely dispatched his mother. Queen Eleanor, to ask the lady's hand. Such con- duct alone might have won the heart of Berengaria, even though she had not been already interested in his favour. Undeterred by the dangers and dilflonlties of the journey acro.ss the Alps, she at once sot out to join her intended husband. The queen and the princess travelled with a suitable escort, and reached Naples in safety. Thence they passed on to the city of Brindisi, where they waited until the French king should have departed to the Holy Land, * Roger of Hovedcn. A.D. 1191.] Tl-TK i.li:c;E OF ACRE. 21S CHAPTER XLVII. Kei^n of Richard I. continued— The Siege of Acre— Progress of the Cruside —The Battle of Jaffa— Truce between Richard and Saladin— Termina- tion of the Third Crusade. PniLiP set sail for Acre on the 30th March, 1191 ; and Richard, at the same time, proceeded to Riggio, on the coast of Calabria, where he took on board hia young bride, witli the Q'leen Eleanor, and carried them to Messina. some of large size, with three masts, and all well appointed, and gaily decked with the banners of the Crusadere. Never before had so gallant an armament been seen in those waters ; and as the brilliant pageant moved away, tho Sicilians gathered in multitudes on the shore with cries of admiration. In those days war was, with iialf the world, the business of life : women did not liesitafe to share the dangers of those they loved, and the smile of beauty was at o I ■3 H3 % a en I n •s. The season of Lent being not yet over, the marriage was deferred ; and Eleanor, having confided her charge to the care of her own daughter Joan, returned to England. Within a few days afterwards the English fleet was ready for sea, and passed with a stiff breeze through the Straits of Messina. More than 200 vessels were there, once the incentive and the reward of valour. Joan and Berengaria accompanied the expedition, ai^d Richard., with a delicacy which belonged to his chivalrous character, fitted up a splendid galley, which was allotted to their separate use. The fleet was not destined to proceed f;ir iu such gallant 220 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A. p. 1191. trim. Within a few hours a heavy storm arose, aud many of the ships, dismasted and at the mercy of the waves, were cast on shore and broken to pieces. Richard himself narrowly escaped sliipwreck, and was compelled to put into the Island of Rhodes, not knowing what had become of the vessel of his bride. While he lay there in the greatest anxiety of mind, he learnt that two of his ships had been ■v\TOcked on the coast of Cyprus, and tliat liis P'ople had been plundered and cast into prison by the natives. Vowing vengeance, Richard collected all the vessels which had arrived at Rhodes, and immediately pro- ceeded to the succour of tlie captives. On approaching the harbour of Limasol, in Cyprus, lie fell in with the galley of Joan and Berengaria, who, like himself, had escaped from the storm, but who had hesitated to trust themselves nearer to the shore. The Island of Cyjwus was at that time colonised by the Greeks, under the rule of a prince of the race of the Comneni, named Isaac, who called himself "Emperor of Cyprus." This mighty monarch of a score of square miles seems to have known little of the character of the English king, for when Richard demanded satisfaction for the in- juries done to the crusaders, he returned an arrogant re- fusal, and drew up his soldiers in battle array upon the shore. Cceur-de-Lion immediately landed a body of troops, who put to flight the half-naked men of Cyprus, aud took possesbion of the city. Isaac now sent in his submission to the conqueror, aud on a plain near Limasol a conference took place between them. . Richard demanded, not only an indemnity in money, but also that the " Emperor of Cyprus " should do hom.age to him, and should accompany him to Paleotine with a thousand of his best warriors. The daughter and heiress of I.saac was to be placed in Richard's hands as a hostage for the good faith of her father. The Greek, with that mixture of shrewdness and deceit characteristic of his race, consented to these terms, and on the same night he escaped from the guards placed over him by Richard, and organised new plans, which proved as vain as before, to resist the invaders. Leaving a garrison at Limasol, Rich.ard sailed round the island, capturing all the ships of the Cypriots, and taking posses.sion of their towns. Nicosia, the capital, surrendered with little resistance, and among the prisoners who fell into his hands was the young princess, the daughter of Isa.ac. Tlie " emperor" loved his child, and when he heard of her capture he made no further resistance; but quitting a monastery in which he had fortified himself, he placed himself at once in the power of Richard, fell at his feet, and prayeil that his daughter might be restored to him. Ca'ur-de-Lion refused the request, aud committed him to prison, directing that, in consideration of the rank he as- sumed, he should bo bound with chains of silver instead of iron. It is difTicuU to understand how any rational being should have derived satisfaction from such a distinction; but it appears that the "Emperor of Cyprus" did so, and expressed himself much gratified by the honour done him. At Limasol there were great stores of provisions of all kind.^, and a splendid festival was prepared to celebrate the landing of the Princess Berengaria. Here, at length, CcBur- de-Lion claimed his bride, and the marriage ceremony was performed by the Bishop of Evreux. For a few days the accoutrements of war were put aside, the songs of the minstrels were again heard through the camp, aud th& sweet, wiue of Cyprus lent its intoxicating influence to the scene of revelry. Richard, however, was pre-eminently a soldier ; marti.al glory was his true mistress, and he did not long delay the expedition on which he was engaged. In little more than a month after his arrival at Cyprus, the fleet sot sail for Acre, and arrived there on the 8th of June. All the chivalry of Europe were collected before this city, which was regarded as the key to the Holy Land. Hospitallers and Templars, priests and princes, knights of high and low degree, from every Cliristian country, had flocked to lay down their lives in a canse which they be- lieved to be sacred. For two years before the arrival of Richird the siege had been carried on with all the military skill of the age ; but, while thousands* of the besiegers fell victims to disease and privation, or to their own desperate valour, the city still held out, and its massive walla' defied Machine for Throwing Stones, used at tiie Siege of Acre. the force of the mightiest engines of war. Each month brought new reinforcements to the banner of the cross, and thus an army to which Europe could find no equal, maintained its numerical strength whUe the work of death went on. Saladiu, one of the greatest names in Eastern history, had posted his immense forces upon the heights about Mount Carmel, whence he watched the great armament of Richard, still numbering more than one hundred sail, as it advanced into the roadstead of Acre. The fame of Coeur- de-Lion had gone before him, and the crusaders hailed his approach with shouts of rejoicing. Gay banners flashed in the sun, and trumpets and drums sounded their loudest note of welcome. Philip, however, could not witness with- out envy the power and splendour of his ally. Not many days elapsed before a quarrel took place between them ; and each, refusing to act in concert with the other, made separate attacks upon the town, in the hope of obtaining the exclusive honour of the capture. Both of these ill- judged attempts were unsuccessful, and were attended with heavy loss. At length the brave garrison of Acre, cut oft" from all supplies, were compelled to offer terms of capitulation. • The accounts cf diffifrent writers vary considerably, but one of Iho lowest estimates states that nearly 200,000 men, among whom were six archbishops and mauy bidhopa and nobles of high rank, perished before the walls of Acre. A.D. 1191.] MASSACRE OF SARACEN CAPTIVES. 221 They agreed to surrender possession of the city, together with all the Christian prisoners it contained, and the j wood of the true cross. A sum of 200,000 pieces of gold was to be paid by Saladin within forty days, as a ransom for the lives of the inhabitants, several thousands of whom were retained as hostages for the performance of these con- ditions. The army of the cross entered Acre on the 12th of June, 1191, and at the same time Saladin withdrew from the neighbouring heights, and proceeded a short distance into the interior to concentrate his forces. Soon afterwards Philip of France expressed his intention to return to Europe. The reason he gave for doing 60 was the bad state of his health ; and it is not improbable that this prince, who seems to have possessed neither the occasional religious impulses nor the warlike spirit of Cceur-de-Lion, should have found the first approaches of disease sufficient to deter him from the toils and dangers of a journey to ths Holy Sepulchre. Other causes were, however, at work. The title of King of Jerusalem was still a subject of dispute among the crusaders, although the city itself was now in the hands of the infidel. The crown had been assumed by Guy of Lusignan, in right of his wife Sybilla, a descendant of Godfrey of Bouillon. During the siege of Acre, Sybilla died ; and her sister Isabella, who had married Conrad of Rlontferrat, Prince of Tyre, put in her claim to confer the title on her husband. "While Philip had declared in favour of Conrad, Richard — who seems to have acted merely from the desire of opposing his ally — supported the cause of Lusignan, and acknowledged him King of Jerusalem. In this, as in every other dispute between the two monarchs, Philip was compelled to yield ; but he did so with an ill grace, and it was hardly to be expected that the King of France could long submit to such a coui-se of humilia- tion. He determined to return to his own country, where his wiU was law, and his power absolute ; and where, too, he might have opportunity, during the absence of the English king, to seize upon some portion of his territories, and extend the rather circumscribed limits of the French kingdom. Richard at first received the news of Philip's intended departure with a malediction, calhng down shame upon his head for deserting the holy cause in which he was engaged. The feeling of anger seems soon to have given place to something like contempt, for Coeur-de-Lion added, " Let him go, if his health needs it, and he cannot live away from Palis." But the probable designs of the French king were not overlooked ; and he was compelled to take an oath that he would make no aggression upon English territories during the absence of Richard in Palestine. He also agreed to leave at Acre 10,000 men, commanded by the Duke of Burgundy, but under the control of Ccear-de-Lion. Soon after Philip quitted Acre, the term of forty days appointed for the ransom of the Saracen captives expired. No ransom had been received. The messengers of Richard, who made their way into the presence of the great soldan, were received with the highest courtesy, and were dismissed with costly presents to their master ; but to the demand ibr money Saladin returned no answer. It was reported among the crusaders that he had massacred the Christian prisoners in his power ; and a great excitement arose among the troops at Acre, who called loudly for vengeance. And now took place one of the worst of those atrocious deeds which stain the history of the crusades. On the forty-first day, under the orders of Richard and the Duke of Burgundy, the unhappy Saracen captives were hd out beyond the camp?, and were there batchered without mercy, some few- rich men only being spared, in the hope that large sums would be obtained for their ransom.' So blinded were the crusaders by their fanatic zeal, that this massacre in cold blood was regarded by the perpetrators as a righteous deed, acceptable to heaven. Not only so, but the contemporary historians — men bred up in the cloister, whose character, no less than their religion, should have led them to recoil at such a deed — recorded it with exultation, while minstrels celebrated it in their songs. The acts of ferocity which characterised this massacre would be considered to disgrace the most hardened assassin of modern times. The soldiers ripped up the bodies of their vi;liras, in the hope of finding precious stones, which they were supposed to have swallowed for concealment ; and it is said that many valuable jewels were, in ftict, discovered in this manner. Since the twelfth century the world has made some progress in humanity ; but it is matter for speculation whether the people of a future time may not regard the wars and duels of our day with the same feelings w ith which we read of the crimes of the Middle Ages. On receiving the news of the massacre, Saladin put to death all the Christian prisoners in his hands. Such an act of retaliation, however it may now be reg.irdcd, was in accordance with the usages of the time ; and it is hardly to be expected that the Moslem should display more mercy than the Christian. AVith hands reeking with the blood of their victims, the crusaders returned to the city, 'where they gave themselves up to debauchery and excess. Many of them would probably have been well disposed to go no farther ; but Richard roused them once more into activity, and his will was not to be resisted. He left his young wife and his sister behind him, defended by a strong garrison, and strictly forbade women of all ranks from accompanying the army. He quitted Acre on the 22nd of August, with about 80,000 men, of all the nations of Christendom, and took his way along the sea shore towards Ascalon. Saladin, whose scouts were everywhere, was speedily apprised of the march of the crusaders ; and he appeared at a distance with a great army, hovering about them, and keeping them con- tinually in expectation of att-ack. The troops of Richard^ however, marched fearlessly on ; and when, after a day'^ march across those burning plains, exhausted by the weight of their heavy armour, they reached a halting-place, a herald stood forth from each camp, and cried aloud three times, "Save the Holy Sepulchre!" and the whole army knelt down, and said, "Amen!" Human nature displays the most striking contrasts where the fortunes of men are subject to extremes of vicissitude; and thus the sokliers who one day were engaged in acts of brutal cruelty or sensuality, on the next might be seen marching to the death with a devotion which, if mistaken, was not the less sublime. When Richard had advanced as far as Azotus, the Ash- dod of Holy Writ, he was apposed by the Saracen forces, ranged in order of battle. Saladin, whose skill as a general was sciircely inferior to that of Coeur-de-Lion himself. • Roger of Ilovcden states that 5,000 Infidels were thus dcstroyea. Other aeccunta give evon a lirger number. 222 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1191. conducted the attack in person ; and, for a time, the Christian troops gave way before him. Richard, who commanded the centre of the army, waited with great coolness until the Saracens had exhausted their arrows ; of valour attributed to him by the chroniclers are wholly incredible; but, after making all reasonable deduction for exaggeration, enough remains to prove that Coeur-de- Lion deserved the proud surname wliich he bore, and then, jJacing himself at the Iiead of hi.s knights, and bran- 1 that his strength and valour were alike without a pa- dishing the formidable battle-axe which was his favourite rallel. The Saracen army, numeroua as it was, could weapon, he rushed upon the enemy, slaying with his own not withstand the charge of the mail-clad warriors of hand all who fell within his reach. Many of the feats | Europe ; and Saladia vras compelled to make a hasty A.D. llyi,] BATTLE OF JAFFA. retreat, leaving beliiud liim seven thousand dead upon the Eeld. willingly adopted a pretext which afforded a new opportu- nity of rest and enjoyment ; and Richard himself, attracted Richard advanced to Jaffa, the Joppa of the Bible, of by the field sports to be obtained in the neighbourhood, which city he obtained possession without opposition ; but i appears to have laid aside for a time his customary here a delay took place, which proved fatal to the success of the expedition. Some of the chief men of the army dleged that it would be necessary to repair the fortifications of Jaffa, for the purpose of placing it in a condition of defence. The soldiers, remembering the pleasures of Acre, energy. Saladin, who had recovered from his defeat, and was intent upon vengeance, was known to be in the neigh- bourhood, with an army even larger than before; but Coeur-de-Lion, undisturbed by this circumstance, rode about the country w'^h a small escort. Many strange 224 CASSEi.L'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1191. adveutures are told iu connection with these expeditions; and it would appear that Richard was often in imminent danger of being captured — a fate from which liis courage, or good fortune, invariably saved liim. On one occasion a party of Templars had been taken prisoners. The news being brought to Richard, he sent the Earl of Leicester to their assistance, with the message that he would come himself as soon as he could get on his armour. Before he had done so, however, he learnt that the Earl had also been defeated. Delaying no longer, the Lion Heart seized his battic-axe, and leaping on his war-horse, galloped otT to the scene of action, where the effect pro- duced by his presence, and his own extraordinary exertions, caused the Saracens to be put to flight, and the Templars and the Earl of Leicester were rescued. The battle-axe of Cceur-de-Lion had twei-ty pounds of steel wrought into the head of it, and there is no doubt that in his hands it was a most formidable weapon. Various negotiations now ensued, which appear to have led to nothing, and were prob.ably devised by the Saracens merely to gain time. The envoy who passed b:t\veen the two camps on these occasions was Saif-ed-Deen, or Saphadin, the brother of Saladiu, who was a man of great ability, and who conducted his missions in such a manner as to gain the favour of Coeur-de-Lion. At length, in the month of November, the fortifications of Jaffa were completed, negotiations were broken off, and the crusaders resumed tlieir march. The sky was black with tempest, and as they crossed the plain of Sharon, where now the rose and lily of the valley bloomed no longer, a violent wind arose, I'.ud thick rain began to fall. The heaviest storms are found in those countries where the sun shines brightest, and it was now the commencement of the rainy season. The sokUers of the cross, ill-provided with protection against such weather, pitched their camp at Ramula, the Arimathea of Scripture ; but the streams which descended from the mountains inundated the encampment, and the winds tore up the tents which were their only shelter. Struggling on wearily, they reached Bethany, which was within twelve milea of Jerusalem, but here they found it impossible to proceed further. Famine and disease had decimated the troops, and those who were still able to bear arms wore ill-suited to cope with an enemy. Richard was therefore compelled to retrace his steps, and he marched back rapidly to Ascalon, there to recruit liis forces. The fortifications of Ascalon had been dismantled by Saladin ; but Coeur-de-Lion, whose energetic spirit no reverses could subdue, set himself immediately to restore the defences, and appeared among his men doing the work of a mason. Novelist or romancer never imagined more striking contrasts than are presented to us in the sober records of the i\Iiddle Ages, and thus we find the king who lately was the centre of unexampled pomp and splen- dour at Messiuu, now wielding the trowel and the pickaxe upon the walls of Ascalon. The example set by Richard was attended with the best efifects; princes and nobles, Ijishops and their clergy, worked beside him as masons and carpenters, thinking it no shame to do what the King of England liad done. The only exception was the Duke of Austria, and on his refusal, it is related that Cceur-de-Lion kicked or gtiiuck that prince, and turned him and his retainers out of the town. Having placed Aacaloa in a condition of defence, Richard restored other fortifications destroyed by Saladin along the coast. These works, however, were attended with a vast expense, and Richard's generosity, which appears to have been without stint, whether much or little was at his command, hastened the exhaustion of his finances. The French and other foreign troops attached to his army were kept together by the largesses he gave them ; but as the treasury became empty they relaxed in their obedience, and their national animosities found vent in repeated quarrels and disturbances. The dispute between Conrad of Jlont- ferrat and Guy of Lusignan for the crown of Jerusalem was again renewed. Conrad, whose character was vacillating and treacherous, was nevertheless a man of considerable ability and of high military renown. Ha^^ng secitred the assistance of the Genoese, he defied the power of the King of England, and a civil war appeared to be imminent among the Christians of Palestine. The Fisans, whose old hatred against the Genoese led them to take the opposite side, declared for Lusignan, and frequent combati took place iu the very streets of Acre, between the opposing factions. Richard quitted Ascalon, and succeeded in repressing these tumults. He endeavoured to restore unanimity to the army, and to conciliate the Marquis of Montferrat ; but that haughty chief rejected his offers, and entrenched himself in the town of Tyre, with a number of disaffected soldiers of different nations who had joined his standard. Saladiu soon became aware of the dissensions in tha Christian army, and he made preparations for striking what he hoped would be a decisive and successful blow, But iu the meanwhile he was unexpectedly met by pro- posals for peace from Ca3ur-de-Liou, who sent him word that he demanded only the possession of Jerusalem and the wood of the true cross. The soldan returned for answer that the blessed city* was_ as dear to the I^Ioslem as to the Christian, and woidd never bo delivered up except by force. The unusual course pvirsued by Richard was not to be attributed to such an inadequate cause as the disaffection of a part of his troops. He had lately received letters fron? his mother, Queen Eleanor, and from William Longchamp whom he had appointed chancellor in his absence, detailing various conspiracies which were fraught with the greatest danger to the throne. It is not necessary to interrupt the narrative for the purpose of relating the particulars of these matters ; they will be given in detail when the history retm'ns to the consideration of events in England. It is enough to say that thoy were of a nature to cause the greatest disquietude, even to the strong mind of Cceur-de- Lion. It is re[K3rted that he set on foot new negotiations with Saladiu, which continued for some time, and that he even proposed that the contest should bo terminated by the marriage of his own sister Joan with Saphadin, the brother of the Sultan. This extraordinary scheme, if it ever really was entertained, was defeated by religious obstacles ; the clergy launching the thunders of the Church against all those who should sanction the union between a Christian princess and a chief of the infidels. During this time we read of numerous acts of courtesy, or, as it might seem, even of friendship passing between Richard and Saladin. The institutions of chivalry had * "El Gootz," or " The Blessed City," Is the Arab luuno of Jerusalem to this day. A.B. 1191.T CHARACTER OF S.iLADIN. 225 been carried by the Europeans into Palestine, and liad commended themselves to favour wlierever a true soldier was to be found. In the East, as in the We;t, they shsd a transient gleam of sunsliine upon the bloody landscape of war, arousing whatever there is of high or noble to be found in poor humanity. Few historians have done justice to the character of Saladin ; it is not easy for us now' to cast our niincls back, as it were, into that remote ago and country in which he lived, and to weigli the acts of his life against the knowledge which was given him to guide tliem. We road history with more or le.ss of prejudice and intoler- ance, viewing with the bright light of the nineteenth cen- tury those blots upon its page, which lay unseen in the early dawn of Christianity. And yet there is no name (but One) in all the records of the past, which we should dare to bring to the test of abstract virtue. The history of the woi-ld is the history of moral as of social advancement ; the virtuts of one age are the abomination of the next, and this process is continually going on. Thus slowly through the centuries rises the stately edifice of civilisation, whose fair proportions expand and grow in beauty with suc- ceeding generations. Saladin possessed abilities of a very high order, joined to bodily strength httle inferior to that of Cceur-de-Lion himself. He was skilled in the learning of the East, added to which he possessed that refinement of manners induced by the usages of chivalry. The virtues of a warlike age appeared in him pre-eminently ; he ivas brave, generous, and true to hLs word, preserving his plighted faith with a degree of scrupulousness not often observed by the priuces of Christendom. Coins of Sovereigns of the Seljuk Dynasty. Descended from the race of the Seljuks, he had warmly embraced the religion of Mahomet, whose doctrines taught him to pursue to utter destruction all the enemies of the Prophet. But Saladin was no bigoted IMussulman, and when the foes he had conquered appeared before him as suppliants, he seldom failed to grant the mercy they im- plored. It is needless to say that this picture has its reverse, and that the character of the great soldan was not altogether blameless. He was in the highest degree ambitious, and his elevation to the throne was obtained by the unscrupulous shedding of blood. He trampled down whomsoever stood in his way ; but, having attained that elevation, he proved himself a wise and just monarch, and his rule, on the whole, was free from tyranny. The soldan and the Christian king, both of whom stood far above their contemporaries in military prowess ant? ability, had learnt mutual respect, and not all the injuries whicli each had inflicted on the other had power to subduo this feeling. Great minds can afford to be generous, and thj depreciation of the merits of a rival seldom arises from any other cause than a consciousness of inferiority. Siiladin and llichard met together many times with interchanges of courtesy, and the soldiers of both armies mingled in the tournament and in other martial exercise;. Where the laws of chivalry prevaileil, the warrior slieathed his enmity witli his sword, and wonhl have regarded it as a foul stain upon his knighthood to doubt for a moment the fiith pleilged to him by a foeman. Pilgrims were continually arriving in the Holy Land from Europe, and from each traveller who appeared in the presence of Richai'd, he learnt news wliich compelled him to hasten his return to England, although he had sn'oru never, to abandon the expedition so long as he had a war- horse to eat. In the hope of establishing peace among all parties, he consented that Conrad of iSloutferrat should be crowned King of Jerusalem, and gave to Lusignan, by way of compensation, the Island of Cyprus. It is probable that the energetic character of Conrad might ultimately have enabled him to obtain possession of Jerusalem, but at the time when he was preparing for his coronation, he was murdered in the streets of Tyre, by two men of the sect of the Assassins. This name, then quite new to the languages of Europe, was applied to those fanatical Moslems who devoted themselves to assassinating the enemies of their Ikith by surprise, in the belief that they should thus secure admission into paradise. In the mountain defiles of Lebanon there lived a whole tribe of these enthusiasts, under the rule of the Old Man* of the ^Mountain — a mys- terious chief, whose name became a sound of terror throughout Europe. They were called iu Arabic, '' Has- chischi," from an intoxicating plant well known in the East, which they made use of to stupefy the brain and excite themselves to their desperate deeds of blood. It would appear that Conrad was murdered in revenge for certain injuries which he had inflicted upon this extra- ordinary people. An Arabic writer relates that when the two Assassins were seized and put to the torture, they con- fessed that tliey had been employed by the ICing of Eng- land; but tills account differs from olliers, and is so com- pletely at variance with all we know of the Assassins, as well as with the character of Richard, that it may bo at once rejected as fabulous. Apart from the arguments which may be adduced to show, from the previous arrange- ments of the king, that he had no anticipation of the deatii of Conrad, the whole teuour of the lite of Coeur-de-Liou serves to prove that he was not the man to strike a foe in secret. The French and German factions, however, at oncj spread a report that he had instigated the murder, and letters were sent to Phihp of France containing the same news. Philip, who contemplated a descent upon the English territory, eagerly seized a preto.\.t for his treason. He ap- phed to the Pope to release him from his oath of peace, and declared that he had received a caution that the King of England had sent some of those dreaded Assassins of the East to murder him. Ostensibly with a view to repel these designs, he appointed a body-guard of armed men to attend » The Arabic word Scbeik, translated by the Crusadera " Old Man," means also the chief of a tribe. 326 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED IHSTOIIY OF liNliLAND. fA.U. 1191. him wherever he went, and this institution survived in France for centuries after the name of the Old Man of the Mountain was forgotten. During the tumult which followed the death of Conrad, Count Henry of Champagne, the nephew of Richard, appeared on the scene, and the people of Tyre placed him in possession of the town as well as of the other terri- to remain for another year in Palestine. Laying aside for a time all considerations connected with affairs at home, he determined to give his whole energies to bring to a success- ful termination the expedition in which he was enfawed. Having at length restored something like unanimity to his troops and brought them into an efBcient state, he once more led them on the way to Jerusalem. The army resumed ^'' ^'1%".'^- Bichard Cce'jr-do-Lion. tories held by their late prince. Soon afterwards Henry married the young widow of Conrad, receiving with her liand the title to the imaginary crown, and he was generally acknowledged by the crusaders as King of Jerusalem. AVith each succeeding month appeared the greater need for the presence of Richard in England ; but he concealed his uneasine.ss, and, with the view of repressing the growing discontent in his army, ho publicly proclaimed his intention its march in the month of May, and reached the valley of Hebron, which was destined to be the extent of its journey. The circumstances which induced Richard to relinquish his long-cherished enterprise cannot now be known with cer- tainty. Various versions are given by the different his- torians ; but we find no occurrence which appears of suf- ficient importance to have changed the purpose of Coeur-de- Lion. It is certain, however, that a council assembled A.D. 1192.] DEPARTURE OF THE FLEET FROM PALESTINE. 227 by the king decided upon the propriety of attacking Caii'o, which was the main store-houso of Saladin, rather than to marcli upon Jerusalem. No sooner was it kuown among the troops that a counter-march was intended, than they threw aside all discipline : great numbers of them deserted, and Richard was compelled to return to Acre, as the only means of regaining the authority he had lost. Saladiu, who kept watch from the mountains upon all the movements of the crusaders, perceived the disorganised condition of the army, and chose that moment for an attack upon Jaffa, which he captured with little resistance. On learning the news, Richard at once dispatched by land the troops who remained with hioj, while he, with a small body of knights, proceeded by sea to the relief of the town. Cceur-de-Liou never showed his splendid military talents more strikingly than on this occasion. On arriving opposite the town, he found a vast host of the Saracens drawn up on the shore to receive him. His companions couusolled him to turn back, saying that it wai little else than ni»,Jiics3 to attack such overwhelming nuiubera; but Cceur-de-Liou know that to dare Ls to reach half-way to victory, and ho had learned to despise the nice calculation of probabilities. He leaped into the water, and cried, " Cursed ibr ever be he ■who follows me not ! " At such a call no knight who de- sired to keep his spurs would dare to hang back, and one and all followed their leader to the shore, threw themselves upon the thick ranks of the enemy, and put them to flight. The gallant band of Richard then entered Jaffix, where they were joined by the troops who had march xl by land. On the following day the main body of the Saracen army, with Saladin at their head, advanced upon the town. Richard went forth to meet them on the plain, and a pitched battle ensued, iu which, after many hours of hard fighting, he defeated them v/ith great slaughter. It is scarcely too much to say that this success against a vastly superior force was due, in a great measure, to the extraordinary exertions of Cceur-de-Liou himself. AVherever he stretched out his ponderous battle-axe, horse and man went down before him; and it is said that such was the terror he in- spired that whole bodies of the Sar.icen troops would turn and fly at his approach. Although the expedition to the Holy Land was not destined to attain its object, the fame of its leader was raised both in the East and in the West to a height which has never been equalled. For hundreds of years the name of Richard Coeur-de-Lion was employed by Syrian mothers to silence their infants ; and if a horse sud- denly started from the way, his rider wiis wont to exclaim, " Dost thou think King Richard is in that bush ? " * The battle of Jaffa was Coeur-do-Lion's hust victory in the Holy Laud. His exertions on that day brought ou a violent fever, and the state of his health, as well as the necessity of a return to England, induced him to conclude a treaty with his gallant enemy, on terms which Saladin was glad to accept. A truce was proclannod for three years, three months, three days, and three hours ; the towns of Jaff'a and Tyre were to remain in the hands of the Chris- tians, and they were to be permitted at all times to visit Jerusalem as pilgrims, without persecution or injury. To the French, who had refused to take part iu the battle of Jaffa, Richard denied the benefits of this treaty, and told them that since they had held back from the fight, they were not worthy to enter the Holy City. The remaining ' Gibbon, portions of the army, casting aside their weapons of war, made the pilgrimage in safety, protected from all molesta- tion by the pledge of Saladin. And yet the massacre of Acre was fresh in the memory of the Moslems, and many of the kinsmen of those who had perished there threw them- selves at the feet of their chief, and implored him to take vengeance for the ruthless deed upon the Christians now in his power. But the soldan refused to listen to their entreaties, and replied that ho had pas.sed his word, which was sacred and unchangeable. Tlie third body of pilgrims which entered Jerusalem was headed by the Bishop of Salisbury, who was received with great honour, and was admitted to a long iuterviev,' with Saladin. Many Cjuestions were put to him by his royal entertainer, who, among other matters, desired to know in what light he was regarded among the Christians. " What do they say," he asked, " of your king, and what of me ? '" The bishop answered baldly, "My king stands unrivalled among all men for deeds of might and gifts of generosity ; but your fame also is high, and were you but converted to the true faith, there would not be two sucli princes as you and he in all the world." Saladin replied iu a speech as wise as it was generous. He readily gave his tribute of admiration to the brilliant valour of Richard, but said that he was too rash and impetuous, and that, for his own part, he would rather be famed for skill and prudence than for mere audacity. At the rec^uest of the bishop, Saladin granted his permission that the Latin clergy should be allowed to have separate eslablishmsuts at Jerusalem, as had previously been the case with the eastern chui'ches. CHAPTER XLVIII. lieignof niciiard I. continued— Dopiliture of the Fleet from tlio Holy Liiid— Adventures of Richard ia Oenniny— His luiiirisonnient— Condition of Affairs iu EiigUind. Richard set sail from Acre in October, 1192, with the queen Berengaria, his sister Joan, and all the knights and prelates who held fealty to the English crown. The proud heart of Cceur-de-Lion would not permit him to visit Jeru- salem in the lowly guise of a pilgrim, but he quitted Pales- tine with feelings of the deepest regret ; and he is reported to have stretched out his arms towards the hills, exclaimiuf, "Most holy land, I commend tliee unto God's keeping. May he grant me life and health to return and rescue thee from the infidel 1 " A heavy storm arose — attributed by the sailors to the displeasure of Heaven — and overtook the returning fleet, scattering the ships, and casting many of them ashore on the coasts of Barbary and Egypt. The vessel which carried Joan and Berengaria arrived iu safety at a port iu Sicily. Richard had followed in the same direction, with the inten- tion of landing in southern Gaul ; but he suddeuly re- membered that he had many bitter enemies in that country, in whose power it would be dangerous to trust himself, and he turned back to the Adriatic, dismissing the greater part of his followers, and intending to take liis way homeward in disguise through Styria and Germany. His vessel was attacked by Greek pirates; but he not only succeeded in repelhng the attack, but in commanding their services to convey him to shore. Possibly, his name may have had an influence, even with these robbers of the sea ; but, whatever were the means employed, it is certain 228 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1192. that they placed themselves under his orders, and that he quitted his own ship for one of theirs, in which — the better to secure his disguise — he proceeded to Zara ia Dalmatia, and there landed. He was attended by a Norman baron, named Baldwin of Bethune, two chaplains, a few Templars, and some servants. Richard had assumed tlie dress of a sent a page for this purpose, desiring him to ask a passport for Baldwin of Bethune and Hugh the Merchant, who were pilgrims returning from Palestine, and ordering hun to present to the governor a large ruby ring, which Richard had purchased in Syria from some Pisan merchants. Some : of the chroniclers relate that the lord of Zara recognised the palmer, and, having suffered his hair and beard to grow long, went by the name of Hugh the Merchant. He had however, not yet learned prudence, and those who were with liim .seemed to have teen aa deficient in this quality as himself. It was necessary to obtain a pass of safe con- duct from the lord of the province, who, unfortunately, proved to bo a relation of Conrad of Montferrat. The king ruby, which was a famous stone ; but in any case, his sus- picious were excited by seeing so valuable a jewel in the hands of men who professed themselves of such low degree. "This ring is the present of a prince, not of a merchant," he said to the messenger. " Thou haat not told the truth ; thy master's name is not Hugh : he is King Richard. But since he has sent me the gift without knowing who I am. AD. 1192.1 ATTACK ON C(EUR-DE-LION. ^i!.3 tell him from me that I give him back his present, and that he may go in peace." At this unexpected discovery the king did not hesitate to brother, the lord of a neighbouring province, to inform him that the dreaded King of England was about to pass through his territory in disguise. Among the j.-etainers of P3 O 8 avail himself of the permission be nad received, and, having obtained horses, he quitted the town on the same night. But the governor had no intention of permitting his enemy to escape from the country. He sent off messengers to his 20 the brother was a Norman knight named Eoger, who was employed to go to all the taverns which received travellers, for the purpose of discovering the royal fugitive. For several days the Norman pursued his search without success, 230 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1193. but he was stimulated by a vast reward which was promised him, and at length he discovered the king. No sooner, however, hud Richard confessed who he was, than the ties of country and the duties of allegiance to his native sove- reign overcame the love of money in the breast of the sol- dier, and instead of seizing him, he brought him a horse, and entreated him to save himself by flight ; then, having faUen at the king's feet with tears and begged his forgive- ness, he hastened back to his employer, and told him that the story of Richard's arrival was false, and that the pilgrim was of no higher rank than a knight, and was named Baldwin of Bethune. The baron, furious with rage at his disappointment, ordered the arrest of Baldwin, who was cast into prison with several of his companions. jSIeanwhile, Cceur-de-Lion hastened on his way through Germany, attended only by a single knight, and by a boy who spoke the English language, then very similar to the Saxon dialect of the Continent. For three days and nights they travelled without food among mountains covered with snow, not knowing in which direction they were going. They entered the province which had formed the eastern boundary of the old empire of the Franks, and was called Ostrik or OEstreich, which means the East Country. This country, known to us by the name of Austria, was subject to the Emperor of Germany, and was governed by a duke, whose capital was Vienna, on the Danube. This duke was the same Leopold whom Richard had insulted at Ascalon, and with whom also, on a former occasion, he had a serious quarrel. This occurrence took place at Acre, where the duke having presumed to raise his stan'dard on a portion of the walls, Coeur-de-Lion seized the flag, and trampled it under foot. . Richard and his companions arrived at a small town near Vienna, exhausted with fatigue and fasting. It is not pro- bable that the king could have proceeded so near the cily without knowing where ne was, but his immediate necessities were too pressing to leave any room for hesitation. Having taken a lodging, he sent the boy into the market-place to buy provisions ; but here the same imprudence which had led to the former discovery was again exhibited. The boy was dressed in costly clothes, and these, together with the large sums of money which he exhibited, excited the suspicions of the citizens ; but he made excuse that he was the servant of a rich merchant who was to arrive within three days at Vienna. When he returned to the king, he related what had happened, and begged him to escape while there was yet time. Richard, however, little accustomed to anticipate danger, and fatigued with his journey, determined to remain some days longer. Meanwhile, Duke Leopold heard the rumour of the landing of his enemy at Zara, and, incited at once by feelings of revenge and by the hope of the large ransom which such a prisoner would command, sent out spies and armed men in all directions to search for him. As the duke was scarcely likely to anticipate the presence of the fugitive so near the capital, the search was made without success, and Cceur-de- Lion would doubtless have escaped undiscovered, if another strange act of carelessness had not drawn suspicion upon him. One day, when the same hoy who had before been arrested was again in the market-place, he was observed to carry in his girdle some embroidered gloves, such as were only worn by princes and great nobles on occasions of ceremony. He was again seized, and the torture was employed to bring him to confession. He revealed the truth, and pointed out the house in which King Richard was lodging. Coeur-de- Lion was in a deep sleep when the room in which he lay was entered by Austrian soldiers. He immediately sprang up, and seizing his sword, which lay beside him, he kept them at 'oay, vowiug that he would surrender to none but their chief. The soldiers, superior as their numbers were, hesitated to undertake the task of disarming him, and the Dake of Austria having been sent for, Cceur-de-Lion gave up the sword into his hands. Leopold received it with a bitter smile of triumph, and said, " You are fortunate in not having fallen prisoner to the friends of the IMarquis Conrad ; for had you done so, you were bat a dead man, if you had a thousand lives." The duke then caused him to be im- prisoned in the castle of Turnsteign, where soldiers were appointed to guard the caged lion day and night with drawn swords. No sooner did the Emperor Henry VI, of Germany learn the news of the arrest of Ccein--de-Lion, than he sent to the Duke of Austria, his vassal, commanding him to give up his prisoner. " A duke," said he, " has no right to im- prison a king ; that is the privilege only of an emperor." This strange proposition does not seem to have been denied by Leopold, who resigned the custody of the English king, on condition of receiving a portion of his ransom. The agree- ment having been concluded, Richard was removed from Vienna at Easter, a.d. 1193, and was confined in one of the imperial castles at Worms. The two German princes, of whom it is difficult to say which appears to us in the most despicable light, entertained an equal hatred for their noble prisoner. How high the briUiant valour and abilities of Richard had placed him above his contemporaries, is evident from the jealousy with which they all regarded him ; but the chief cause of the enmity of the emperor was the alliance which had been formed between Coeur-de-Lion and Tancred of Sicily. It will be remembered that at the time when the army of the Crusaders visited Sicily, Henry was preparing for a descent upon that kingdom, for the piurpose of enforcing those claims to the throne which he held in right of his wife Constance, the heiress of "William the Good. Soon after the departure of Richard from Messina (,v.d. 1191), Henry appeared with a vast army before the walls of Naples, which city made a gaUant defence against the invader. The emperor, although the immediate descendant of the great Frederic Bar- bai'ossa, was as deficient in military skill as in other manly qualities, and he saw his troops fall thickly around him, cut off by the fevers of that unaccustomed chmate, without venturing to make a combined attack upon the city. At length he fell ill himself, and t'hen he im- mediately raised tlio siege, and retreated. At the time when Coeur-de-Lion fell into his power, he was preparing for a second expedition to Italy, and the captivity of the English king afforded him greatly increased chances of success ; for Richard was accustomed to adhere to his engagements, and it is probable that, had he been in possession of his Icingdom, he wonld have interfered to prevent the destruction of his ally. It .appears that after that shameful bargain by which the person of the royal prisoner was transferred to the crstody of the emperor, the place of his confinement was kept carefully concealed, and was for many months a matte'.' of speculation not only in England, but in Germany. Before we follow A.D. 1193.] JIASSACRE OF JEWS. 231 further the fortunes of this adventurous Icing, it is necessary to go back to the period of his departure for the Holy Land, aud to trace the course of events in England during his absence. there were among the people a certain number of lawless characters, who, ever eager for plunder, were c(oubly so when they could obtain it by means which were encouraged by their superiors, and permiXted secretly, if not openly, by Longchamp and Hugh Puclsey. The popular feeling which had been excited against the Jews at the time of Richard's coronation, and which he had done so httle to repress, found vent in persecutions and massacres throughout the country. Tn those turbulent times the clergy. To kill a Jew was regarded not only as no crime, but as a deed acceptable to God ; and in Englap.d, as in Palestine, the pure and holy religion of peace was believed to give its sanction to acts of merciless bloodshed 232 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HLSTORY OF ENGLAND. CA.r.. 1193. and plunder. Iii February, A.d. 1190, a number of Jews were butchered in the streets of Lynn, in Norfolk, .and immediately afterwards, .as though by a preconcerted move- ment, similar bloody scenes were enacted at Norwich, Lin- coln, St. Edmondsbury, Stamford, and York. The massacre of York, which took place in March, a.d. 1190, was remark.able no less for the number of victims who were sacrificed than for the circumstances of horror which attended it. At nightfall, on the 16th of the month, a company of strangers, armed to the teeth, entered the city, and attacked the house of a rich Jew who had been killed in London at the coronation. His widow and children, however, still remained, and these the ruffians put to the sword, carrying off whatever property the house contaiaed. On the following day the rest of the Jews in York, antici- pating the fate which awaited them, appeared before the governor, and entreated permission to seek safety for them- selves and their families within the walls of the castle. The request was granted, and the people of the persecuted race, to the number of not less than 1,000 men, women, and childi'en, were received iuto the fortress, within whose strong walls they might hope to find shelter from their enemies. But for some reason or other the governor passed outside the gates, and returned attended by a great nuuiber of the pojmlace. The Jews, whose misfortunes had made them suspicious, feared that they had been permitted to enter the castle only as into a slaughter-house, and refused to admit the governor, excusing their disobedience by their dread of the mob, who, it was evident, would enter with him if the drawbridge were lowered. The governor refused to listen to such an argument, reasonable as it was ; and, whatever may have been his original intention, he now gave orders to the rabble to attack the rebellious Israelites. The command was willingly obeyed, and the populace, whose numbers were continually increased by all the vagabonds and ruffians of the neighbourhood, laid siege to the castle, and made preparations for taking it by assault. It is related that the governor became alarmed at the tumult he Imd raised, and that he recalled his order, and eudeavoured to calm the excitement of the people ; if so, his efforts were unsuccessful. Few things are easier than to rouse the passions of men — nothing more difficult than to quell them. The unhappy Jews heard the loud shouts of vengeance without the walls, and, foreseeing that they could make little or no defence against the force brought against them, slew first their wives and children, and after- wards, with a few exceptions, themselves. Longchamp, Bishop of Ely, the chancellor of the king- dom, expressed his indignation at the war of extermination which seemed to be commenced against the Jews. He proceeded to York with a body of troops, displaced the governor from his office, and kid a heavy fine upon the rich men of the city. It does not appear, however, that the punishment was in any degree proportioned to the crime, or that it fell upon the actual perpetrators. The men upon whom the fine was levied were probably innocent of the outrage ; but Longchamp was in want of money to transmit to his royal m.aster in Normandy, and he, no doubt, was glad of the pretext thus aftbrded him for obtaining it. It has been already related that, before the departure of Richard for the Holy Land, ho had sold the chief justiciar- ship of the kingdom to Hugh Pud.^ey, Bishop of Durham, whose authority he afterwards curtailed by appointing other justiciaries, among whom was WilUam Longchamp, Bishop of Ely. Longchamp, who also held the chancellorship, and the custody of the Tower of London, was the favourite of Richard, and he soon secured into his own hands the entire government of the country. The lung, -who had the greatest confidence in his loyalty and abiUty, issued letters patent, directing the people to obey him as their sovereign ; and, by the .authority of the Pope, the chancellor was also appointed legate of England and Ireland. Thus doubly armed with spiritual and temporal power, the rule of Longchamp was absolute throughout the kingdom. Pudsey, however, had paid for the justiciarship, and was by no me.ans disposed to see bis privileges swept away without m.aking an effort at resistance. He accordingly laid his complaint before the king, and Richard, in reply, sent him letters, authorising him to share with Longchamp the authority which was his due. Armed with these, Pudsey made his appearance in London with great cere- mony, but the barons of the kingdom assembled there re- fused to permit him to take his seat among them. After having in vain insisted upon the king's authority which he carried with him, the discomfited bishop proceeded in search of the chancellor, who was still with his troops in the north. When the two prelates met, Longchamp approached his brother of Durham mth a smiling countenance and cour- teous demeanour, exijressed himself ready to obey the com- mands of the king, and invited Pudsey to an entertainment on that day se'nnight in the castle of Tickhill. The Bishop of Durham, who possessed either more good faith or less shrewdness than is usual with statesmen in that or any other age, accepted the invitation ; and as soon as he had passed the gates of the castle, Longchamp placed his band upon his shoulder and arrested hitn, saying that, as sure as the king lived, the bishop should not leave that place until he had surrendered, not only his claim to power, but aU the castles in his possession. " This," said he, " is not bishop arresting bishop, but chancellor arresting chancellor." Pudsey was accordingly imprisoned, and was not released until he had fulfilled the requii'ed con- ditions. The power of Longchamp was now employed to the utmost to raise money for the king's necessities, and to further his own schemes of aggrandisement. Among the chroniclers are several who speak in strong terms of lus avarice and tyranny, while there is only one* whose description of him is favourable. That one, however, was an impartial witness, and an authority whose words carry considerable weight. We are told that such was the rapacity of the chancellor that not a knight could keep his baldric, not a woman her bracelet, not a noble his ring, not a Jew his hoards of gold or merchandise, t He used his power to enrich his relations and friends, placing them in the highest and most profitable posts under government, and entrusting to them the custody of towns and castles, which he took from those who had previously held them. He passed through the country with all the pomp and parade of royalty, attended by more than a thousand horsemen ; and it is related that whenever he stopjjed to lodge for the night, a three years' income was not enough to defray the expenses of his train for a single day. His taste for luxury was further minis- * Peter of Blois. t Matthew Paris. A.D. 1193.] ARREST OF GEOFFREY. 233 tered to by minstrels and jugglers, whom he invited from France, and who sang their strains of iiattery in the public piaces, proclaiming that the chancellor bad not his lilce in the world. There is an evident air of exaggeration about these state- ments, and many of them were to be referred to men as disaffected towards the king as towards his chancellor. If Longcharap reduced the country to poverty by his exac- tions, it is most likely that he was impelled to obtain the money by the demands of Richard : we shall presently sse, however, that the national weo,lth was by no means ex- hausted by the burdens— heavy as they v.-ere — which it sus- tained. The loyalty of Longchamp has never boeu doubted, and there is no reason to believe that his government was generally tyrannous or unjust. The nobles viewed the increasing jiower of the chancellor with feelings of envy; and Earl John, the brother of Richard, who had long entertained designs upon the throne, perceived that his chances of success were small indeed so long as a man devoted, to the king retained the supreme power in the realm. Some of the turbulent barons, to v/hom Longchamp had given cause of offence, attached themselves to John, and encouraged him in his ambitious schemes. While Richard was iu Sicily he received letters from his brother containing various accusations against the chancellor of tyranny and raisgovernment. It appears that these letters produced their effect, and that the king sent a reply directing that, if the accusations were proved to be true, AValter, Archbishop of Rouen, with Geoffrey Fitz- Peter and William Maresohal, should be appointed to the chief justiciarships, and that iu any case they should be associated with Longchamp in the direction of affairs. Richard, however, was well aware of the treacherous dis- position of his brother, and reflection satisfied bim that the chancellor was more worthy of confidence than those who accused him. Before the departure of the fleet from Messina, the king sent letters to his subjects confirming the authority of Longchamp, and directing that implicit obedience should bo reodered to him. When John learnt that his brother was on his way to Acre, he took active measures for bringing his schemes into operation. Various disputes took place between him and the chancellor, and before long an occurrence took place which led to an open rupture between them. Gerald of Camville, a Norman baron, and one of the adhei-ents of John, held the custody of Lincoln Castle, which be had purchased from the king. Longchamp — who, it is said, desired to give this office to one of his friends — summoned Camville to surrender the keys of the castle ; but the baron refused compliance, saying that he was Earl John's liege- man, and that ho would not relinquish his possessions, except at the command of his lord. Longchamp then appeared before Lincoln with an army, and drove out Camville, who appealed to John for justice. The prince, who desired nothing better than such an opportunity, attacked the royal fortresses of Nottingham and Tickhill, carried them with little or no opposition, and, planting his standard on the walls, sent a messenger to Longchamp to the effect that, unless immediate restitution were made for the injury to Gerald of Camville, he would revenge it with a rod of iron. The chancellor, who possessed little courage or military talent, entered into a negotiation, by the terms of which the castles of Nottingham and Tickhill remai^ied in the hands of John, and that of Lincoln was restored to Camville. Other of the royal castles, which had hitherto remained exclusively in the power of the chancellor, were committed into the custody of different barons, to be re- tained until the return of Richard from the Holy Land, or, in the event of his death, to be delivered up to John. It was well known that the king had appointed his young nephew Arthur as his heir, but the chancellor was now- forced to set aside the commands of his royal master, and at a council of the kingdom, the barons, headed by Long- champ, took the oath of fealty to John, acknowledging him heir to the crown in case the king died without issue. These important concessions satisfied John only for a short time, and an opportunity soon presented itself for pushing his demands still further. Geoffrey, the son of Henry II. by Fair Rosamond, bad been appointed to the archbishopric of York during bis father's hfetime, but his consecration had been delayed until the year 1191, whoa the necessary permission was i-eceived from the court of Rome, and he was consecrated by the Archbishop of Tours. As soon as the ceremony was concluded, he prepared to take possession of his benefice, notwithstanding the oath which had been exacted from liim that he would not return to England. The chancellor having been apprised of his iutert'on, sent a message to him forbidding him to cross the Channel, and at the same time directed the sheriffs to arrecfc bim should he attempt to land. Geofircy despised the prohibition ; and, having landed at Dover in disguise, took shelter in a monastery. His retreat was soon dis- covered, and the soldiers of the king broke into the church and seized the archbishop at the foot of the altar, while ho was engaged in the celebration of the mass. A good deal of unnecessary violence seems to have been used, and Geoffrey was dragged through the streets to Dover Castle, where be was imprisoned. The peculiar circumstances of this arrest, and the in- dignity thus inflicted upon a prelate of the Church, excite I the popular feeling strongly against the government, and John, satisfied that he would be supported by the people, openly espoused the cause of bis half-brother, and peremp- torily ordered the chancellor to release him. Longchamp dared not resist the popular voice ; he asserted that he had given no orders for the violence which had been used, and directed that the archbishop should be set at liberty, and suffered to go to London. An alliance, whose basis seems to have been self-interest rather than mutual esteem, was formed between the two half-brothers, and John, supported by the Archbishop of Rouen, boldly proceeded to London, summoned the great council of the barons of the kingdom, and called upon the chancellor to appear before it and de- fend Ins conduct. Longchamp not only refused to do so, but forbade the barons to assemble, declaring that the object of John was to usurp the crown. The council, how- ever, was lielil at London Bridge, on the Thames, and the barons summoned Longchamp, who was then at '^Vindsor Castle, to appear before them. The chancellor, on the con- ■trary, collected all the men-at-arms who were with him, and marched from Windsor to London ; but the adherents of John, who met bim at the gates, attacked and defeated his escort ; and finding himself also opposed by the citizens, he was compelled to take refuge in the Tower. Immediately afterwards John entered the city, and, ou his promising to remain faithful to the king, was received 23i CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1193. with welcome. The people, though they were willing to join in deposing the chancellor, retained, almost without exception, tbe utmost loyalty to their brave sovereign, and they showed clearly that they would permit of no treason against his authority. The act contemplated by the barons involved very important consequences, and John, with the craft and caution pecuhar to his character, determined to obtain the assent of the citizens of London, and thus to involve them in a portion of its responsibility. The suffrages of the people were taken in a manner which shows at once the rudeness of the times, and the unusual nature of such a proceeding. On the day fixed for the great assembly of the barons, the tocsin, or alarm bell, was rung, and when this letter had been read, the votes of the whole assembly were taken, and it was decreed by the voice of "the bishops, earls, and barons of the kingdom, and of the citizens of London," that the chancellor should be deprived of his otBce, and that John, the brother of the king, should be proclaimed " chief governor of the whole kingdom." On the news of these transactions being conveyed to Longchamp, it is reported that he feU upon the floor insen- sible. It was evident that he had no longer any power to resist the pretensions of John : resistance, to have been of any avail, should have come sooner. The troops of his opponents having surrounded the Tower, the chancellor came out from the gates and oft'orod to surrender. John, Kicliard Cceur-de-Lion before tbe Diet of the German Empire. (See (laije 237.) the citizens poured forth from their houses, they found heralds posted in the streets, who directed them to St. Paul's Church. When the people arrived there in a crowd, they found the chief men of the realm — barons and pre- lates—seated in council. These haughty nobles, chiefly of Norman descent, whose usual custom had been to treat the native English as mere serfs and inferior Deings, now re- ceived the people with extraordinary courtesy, and invited them to take part in the proceedings. The debate which followed, being conducted in Norman -French, must have been unintelligible to the majority of the citizens ; but they were shown the king's seal affixed to a letter, which was Paid to authorise the deposition of the chancellor in case he failed to conduct properly the duties of his oflice. AVhen who thought it worth whib to buy his adhesion or sub- mission to the new autliority, proposed to leave him in possession of the bishopric of Ely, and to give him tho custody of three castles belonging to the crown. To the honour of Longchamp, he refused to accept gifts from such a source, or to resign of his own free will any of the powers entrusted to him by his sovereign. " I submit," Jie said, " only to the superior force which is brought against me." And with these words he gave the keys of the Tower into the hands of John. The barons, however, compelled him to take an oath that he would surrender the keys of the other royal fortresses, and his two brothers were detained as hostages for the performance of these conditions. Tlie cs-chaucellor himself waa permitted to go at large ; A.D. 1193.] FLIGHT OF LONGCHAMP. 235 and it appears that he determined, rather than resign poa- eessiou of the castles, to leave his brothers in danger, and to escape to Normandy. Having reached Canterbury, he stayed there for a few days, and then quitted the town in his way on foot to the sea-shore. Having to wait awhile for a vessel in which to embark, he sat down upon a stone, with his veil, or hood, drawn over his face. Some fisher- men's wives who were passing by stopped and asked him the John kneeling for forgiveuess betore his brother Kichard. (See page 23y.) the disguise of a hawkiug-woman, having a bale of linen under his arm, and a yard-measure in his hand. In this strange costume, the e.x-chaacellor, who had been accus- tomed to travel with a retinue of 1,000 men-at-arms, took price of his cloth, but as he did not understand a word of English, he made no answer, much to the surprise of his questioners. Presently some other women came up to him, who also took an^interest in his merchandise, and desired to 236 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1193. know how he sold it. The prelate, who seems to have been keenly alive to the ludicrousness of his situation, burst out into a loud laugh, which stimulated the curiosity of the women, and they suddenly lifted his veil. Seeing under it " the dark and newly-shaven face of a man," * they ran away in surprise and alarm, and soon brought back with them a number of men and women, who amused themselves by pulling the clothes of this strange person, and rolling him in the shingles. At length, after the ex-chancellor had tried in vain to make them understand who he was, they shut him up in a cellar, and he was compelled to make him- self known to the authorities as the only way of regaining his hberty. He then gave up the keys of the royal castles, and was permitted to proceed to the Continent. Immediately oa his arrival in Normandy, Longcharap wrote those letters to Richard which reached him in the Holy Land, and apprised him of the unsettled condition of affairs in England, and of the dangerous assumption of power on the part of John. That prince had appointed the Arch- bishop of Rouen to the chief justioiarship of the kingdom ; but it would appear that the new justiciary was too honest a man to assent to all the views of his unpriucipled master ; and John being in want of money, entered into a negotia- tion with Longchamp to replace him in his office for a pay- ment of £700. The chief ministers, however, dreaded the consequences which might follow the return of the ex- chancellor to power ; and they agreed to lend John a sum of £.500 from the treasury, to induce him to withdraw his proposal. The mercenary prince consented to do so, and the negotiation was broken off. » In defiance of the solemn oath which Philip had taken before leaving the Holy Land, he no sooner returned to France than he prepared to invade Normandy. Some of the nobles of his kingdom, however, had more regard for their knightly faith, and they refused to join in the expedition ; wliile the Pope, determined to defend the cause of a king who was so nobly fighting the battle of the faith, threatened Philip with the ban of the Church if he persisted in his treasonous intention. Compelled to abandon this expedition, the French king by no means gave up his designs against Richard, and he entered into a treaty with John, by which he promised to secure to him the possession of Normandy, Aquitaine, and Anjou, and to assist him in his attempts upon the English throne. In return he merely asked that John should marry tlie Princess Alice, Philip's sister. To this match John, who probably might have been willing to promise anything that was required of him, did not hesitate to give his consent, in spite of the sinister rumours which were current about the princess, and the fact that she had been affianced to his brother. CHAPTER XLIX. Re!sn of Richard I. continued— Richard in Prison— His Ransom acd Retnvn to England— Reconciliation between Richard and John— Career of Long- beard— Wars on the Continent— Death of Richard. The condition of affeirs in England at the time of Richard's departure from Palestine, has been related in the last chapter. The warlike deeds of Cojur-de-Lion had been sung by the troubadours throughout the country, and were • Roger of Hoveden. the theme of those tales of wonder with which the pahiier from the Holy Land repaid his entertainers for the hospi- tality of a night. The people listened with pride to narra- tives coloured with all the hues of imagination ; and their admiration of the personal valour of their king — in those days esteemed the highe.st virtue — was mingled with the religious sentiment which led them to exult in the confu- sion of the infidel. AVhen it was known that Richard had set sail to return to England, the news was received with a general rejoicing throughout the country. The people were tired of the quarrels of regents and ministers ; and the welcome which they prepared to give their sovereign was in some degree inspired by the hope that his powerful rule would ensure tranquillity to the realm. As time passed on, and the king still remained absent, strange rumours began to get abroad. It was affirmed that he had been driven on the coast of Barbary, and taken prisoner by the JMoors ; that, like Robert of Normandy, he had been tempted to stay for a while among the groves of Italy ; that the ship which carried him had foundered at sea with all on board. The last story, however, found few believers, for the people, imbued with a tinge of that romance which taught the immortality of the hero, were fully con- vinced that their king was still alive, and would some day return to take possession of the throne. At length it beoamo knc^n that Cosur-de-Lion was in imprisonment in one of the castles of Germany. The news was tirst conveyed in a letter from the Emperor Henry to King Philip, and quickly travelled over Europe. To the revengeful and ungenerous King of France that letter brought more joy than a present of gold and topaz ; but the other nations of Christendom received the tidings with indignation and disgust. The Pope instantly excommunicated the Duke of Austria, and sent a message to the Emperor Henry, to the effect that he too should be placed under the curse of Rome unless the royal prisoner were instantly released. The Archbishop of Rouen proved his loyalty by summoning the council of the kingdom, and sending two abbots into Germany to visit the king, and confer with him on the measures to be taken for his liberation. Longchamp, however, had already departed in search of his master, and was the first who obtained an interview with him. There is a beautiful legend, much better known than the authenticated facts, which tells of a minstrel, named Blondel, who had been attached to the person of Richard, and whose love for his master induced him to travel through Germany for the purpose of discovering the place of his confinement. Whenever he came to a castle, the minstrel placed himself under the walls, and sang a song which had been a favourite with Ca2ur-de-Lion. One day, when the king was whiling away the dreary hours in solitude, he heard the sound of a harp beneath his window, and when the well-known strains flaated up to his ears, he joined in the air, and sang the concluding verse of the song. Blondel immediately recog- ui.sed the voice, and thus the place of Cceur-de-Lion"s im- prisonment became known to his countrymen. Such is tlie story, which has been generally rejected by the historians for want of evidence. There is considerable improbability in the legem], but, at the same time, it is not impossible that it may have had a foundation in fact. It has been argued that Richard's imprisonment was related in the letter of the emperor to Philip, and that therefore there was no need for the journey of Blondel; but although the A.D, 1191.] RELEASE OF C(EUR-DE-LION. 231 locality of the king's prison was indicated in this letter, it by no means follows that it was known to Longcbamp and others who first took steps to visit him. The sanguine temper of Coeur-de-Lion supported him even in the gloom of a prison. Like many ether famous kni'^hts of his day, he was something of a poet, and he spent his time iu singing tlie songs of the Troubadours, and in cumiiosing verses of his own. Of these, one short poem Ikh boon preserved,* in which he complains of .being for- gotten by those friends who well knew that, had his case been theirs, he would not have failed them in their hour of need. Such a feeling, however, was not exhibited until he had worn away many months of captivity, during which he won the hearts of his gaolers by his jovial manners and gaiety of spirit. When at length Longchamp obtained admission into his prison, Richard received him as a friend, and appears to have entkely forgiven that weakness and lack of energy on the part of the chancellor which had proved so favourable to the traitorous designs of Prince John. Longchamp exerted himself in his master's favour with the Emperor Henry, and that prince at length consented that Richard should appear before the Diet at Hagenau. When the king was on his way thither, he was met by the two abbots who had been sent by the Archbishop of Rouen. " Unbroken by distress," CcBur-de-Lion received them with a smiling countenance, and the admiration of all the by- standers was attracted by his undaunted bearing, which was rather that of a conqueror than a prisoner. Within a few days afterwards he appeared before the Diet of the Empire, where he was permitted to offer his defence against the accusations of Henry. These were— That he had entered into an alliance with Tancred, the usurper of the crown of Sicily ; that he had unjustly imprisoned the Christian ruler of Cyprus ; that he had insulted the Duke of Austria ; and that he was guilty of the murder of Conrad of Montferrat. It was also alleged that the truce he had entered into with Saladin was disgraceful, and that he had left Jerusalem in the hands of the infidels. The speech of Richard in reply to these charges has not been preserved ; but it is described by contemporary writers as having been full of manly eloquence, and that its effect upon the assembly was entirely to estabhsh in their minds the conviction of his innocence. The emperor, however, was by no means dis- posed to set his prisoner at hberty, and insisted upon a heavy ransom, which was subsequently raised to the large sum of 100,000 marks. It was also stipulated that Richard should give hostages to the emperor and the Duke of Austria, for the further payment of 50,000 marks, which was to be made under certain conditions ; and that Eleanor, the maid of Brittany, sister to Prince Arthur, and niece of Richard, should be affianced to the son of Leopold. It is related by Ilovedeu that Richard did homage to the emperor for the crown of England. This act of vassalage, if it really took place, was but an acknowledgment of the pretensions of the ancient emperors of Germany to the feudal superiority of Europe as heirs of the Roman Caesars. It is probable, how- ever, that there is some mistake here, and that the act of homage referred to the imaginary crown of Provence, or Aries, which Henry at this time conferred upon his prisoner. The negotiations respecting the ransom of Richard occu- pied many months, during which time he remained in ♦ Poesies des Troubadoora. captivity, and his brother John, together with Philip of France, were doing all in their power to keep him there. Those confederates made the disgraceful proposal to pay the emperor a sum equal to the lansom, provided he would break off his engagement with Cceur-de-Lion, and consign him to perpetual imprisonment. The emperor would have been willing enough to do so ; but there were meu of honour among the German barons, and when he laid the proposal of Philip before the Diet, that assembly instantly rejected it, and theii- firm demeanour compelled the faithless prince to adhere to his agreement. When the first news of Richard's imprisonment reached England, John collected a body of troops, and took pos- session of the castles of Windsor and Walliugford. Thence he marched to London, causing it to be proclaimed wherever he went that the king his brother had died in prison. The people refused to believe this report, and when John required the barons of England and Kormandy to acknowledge him as their sovereign, they answered by raising the standard of Coeur-de-Lion. The troops of John were attacked and put to flight, and the prince himself passed across the Channel, and joined his ally, Phihp of France. Philip then entered Normandy with a large army, but there, as in England, the people remained loyal to their sovereign, and the French king was compelled to retreat with heavy loss. The ransom of Richard, which was obtained almost wholly in England, appears to have been raised with great difficulty. The ofiicers of the crown went through the country, compelhng men of all ranks to contribute, making no distinction between clergy and laity, Saxons or Normans. The plate of the churches and monasteries was melted down into coin and bullion, and the Cistercian monks, whose poverty had usually exempted them from such exactions, were forced to give up the wool of their sheep. Frauds were practised to a considerable extent by the officers, who exacted money for their own use under the pretence of applying it to the king's ransom ; and thus the burdens of the people increased to such an extent, that they were said to be in distress from sea to sea. At length, after much delay, the sum of 70,000 marks was raised and sent to the emperor, who paid over one-third of the sum to the Duke of Austria, as his share of the booty. It was then agreed that Richard should be set at liberty, on condition of his leaving hostages for the payment of the sum in arrear. The king, whose captivity had now endured for thirteen months, was disposed to agree to almost any terms that might be demanded of him ; and the hostages having been obtained, he was released about the end of January, a.d. 1194. Free once more, Coeur-de-Lion took his way towards Antwerp, receiving as he went the highest marks of honour, which seemed to be paid rather to the man than the monarch. Force of character, when combined with grace of manners, is irresistible in winning hearts ; the one Richard certainly possessed, and the other, we have reason to believe, was not wanting. Probably, the demeanour of the Lion Heart did not display much polish — as little of the tinsel gallantry of Charles H. as of the forced flexibility of the fourth George ; but he was affable and friendly to hia friends, and, when his passions were not excited, courteous to all who came into his presence. Attended by a few followers, Richard left Antwerp in a small vessel, and landed at Sandwich on the 13th of 238 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOKT OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1194. Miirch, 119i. The English people had paid dearly for his freedom, but he seemed to have become more endeared to them on that account. Impulsive and enthusiastic then as now, they crowded about him witli uproarious welcome, and accompanied him on his way to London with shouts of rejoicing. The injuries inflicted by the Norman conquest were beginning to disappear from their minds ; and though Coeur-de-Lion could not speak their language, he was their king, and his exploits were a national honour. London, at least, was not impoverished by the sums raised for liis ransom. So magnificent was the reception given by the citizens — such stores of plate, and jewels, and cloth of gold were displayed, to do honour to the occasion — that one of the German barons who went with him expressed his asto- nishment at the sight, and said that if the emperor his master had known the wealth of the country, he would not have let his prisoner off so easily. At the moment when Richard entered London, bells were ringing at the churches, tapers were lit, and at every altar in the city sentence of excommunication was pronounced, by order of the bishops, against Prince John and his adherents. John himself had received timely notice of the release of Richard by a letter which reached him from Philip, con- taining the significant words, " Take care of yourself — the devil is broken loose ; " and the prince immediately sought safety in flight. At a council held at Nottingham, the barons summoned him to appear within forty days, on pain of the forfeiture of all his estates ; they also determined that Richard should be crowned a second time, and though the king was opposed to this extraordinary proceeding, he submitted to a decision which was evidently dictated by loyalty. The ceremony was performed at Winchester on Easter Day following. From Nottiugbain Richard proceeded on a journey of pleasure through Sherwood Forest, which extended over a space of several hundred miles, to the centre of the county of York.* " lie had never seen this forest," says Roger of Hoveden, " and it pleased him greatly." There, through quiet glades and grassy lawns, " under the greenwood tree," the king solaced himself for his long imprisonment, and tasted the sweet breath of liberty. Sensuous enjoyment is born of privation, and means nothing more than a want supplied. In every age, to him who has been long a cap- tive, the free air and the cheerful face of Nature have a charm to which no other can compare, ami Cceur-de-Lion, a knight-errant, and something of a poet by nature, was not likely to be insensible to its influence. The forest of Sherwood was remarkable for picturesque beauty ; through- out its vast extent there were pleasant valleys, whose undu- lating slopes were covered with the varied foliage peculiar to our island ; tall oaks grew there luxuriantly, stately memorials of the past, which for a thousand years had cast their shade ou Dane and Druid, Saxon and Norman ; game abounded in the covers for those who chose to seek it ; many a mossy couoli, with its leafy canopy, invited to repose. Apart from its natural advantages, the place had other attractions to the adventurous spirit of Cceur-de-Lion. Sherwood Forest liad long been the retreat of bands of armed Saxons, who stiU defied the Norman power, and chose rather to live as outlaws than submit to the authority * The Saxon name of this forest was ^ire-aode, aftcnvards altered into tbat of Sheraoxi. of foreigners. Driven by the Normans from the inhabited parts of the country, they found a refuge in the groves of Sherwood, where they collected together under a chief, who directed a sort of military government. They sup- ported themselves by the chase and by plunder, kilUng th-j king's venison without stint, and making incursions, when- ever an opportunity oflered, upon the lands of the neigh- bouring barons. At the time when the famous Coeur-de-Lion visited Sherwood, there lived within its recesses a man whom the Anglo-Saxon people regarded as their hero, and whose name has been handed down to us in so many tales and poems, that there is some danger of our confounding him with the fabled heroes of romance. " At this time arose among the outlaws that most famous freebooter, Robin llode, whom the oommon people celebrate in their comedies and festivals, and whose exploits, related by the mimes and minstrels, delight them greatly." * Little is really known with certainty about Robin Hood, but, as far as can be gathered from the ancient ballatls, he owed his position as chief of the marauders to superior intelligence as well as valour. He was a Saxon by birth, and of no higher rank than that of a peasant ; the stories which relate that ho had been Earl of Huntingdon, or was descended from an carl, being at variance with the older narratives. Among' the former is a beautiful romance, which would make him out to be the very child of the woods, born there " among flowering lilies." However this may be, it is certain that he passed his life in the forest, with a band of several hundred archers, who became the terror of all the rich lords, bishops, and abbots in the neighbourhood, especially those of Norman birth. Robin Hood made war upon the rich, but he respected the persons of his own countrymen, and uever molested or robbed the poor. The numerous ballads which relate this trait in his character are in their very existence a proof of what they assert, for no man could have been made tlie theme of such general eulogium unless he had been much beloved by the people. Little John, the lieutenant of Robin Hood, is scarcely less celebrated than his chief, whose constant companion he was in all his dangers or pleasures. Little John appears to have possessed a skill in archery second only to that of Robin himself, of which so many incredible stories are told by the romancers. There is also a third person mentioned by tradition — one Friar Tuck, who thought fit to retain his gown while every other sign of his former calling had disappeared. These were the most noted among Robin Hood's band — a very merry company, if we may believe the story-tellers, leading a careless, gipsy Ufe ; doing a great deal of harm, no doubt, but presenting, on the whole, a favourable contrast to the cruelty and tyranny of their Norman oppressors. On the return of King Richard to London, and imme- diately after his second coronation, he commenced prepara- tions for a war in France, which he proposed to undertake in revenge for the injuries he had sustained at the hands of Philip. For this purpose, as well as for his own necessities, money was required, and Richard showed no scruple as to the means by which it was obtained. He at once annulled the sales of royal estates which he had made before his departure for the Holv Land, declaring that they had hot "• Johsn. de ForJun. ScoUchron, 1195.] RICHARD PARDONS HIS BROTHER. 239 been sold, but mortgaged, and that the crown was entitled to their restitution ; many high appointments were also resumed in the same; manner, and these, iis well as the lands, were again sold to the highest bidder. Impatient to take the field, Richard collected as many- troops as could be got together, and passed over iuto Nor- mandy in Jlay, A.D. 119'4. He landed at Barfleur, and as soon as he had set foot upon the beach, he was met by his cowardly brother John, who cowered at his feet and begged forgiveness. His mother. Queen Eleanor, seconded the request with her prayers ; and Richard on this occasion showed a magnanimity which was rare indeed in those days. He granted his brother's pardon, and said, " I forgive him ; and I hope to forget his injuries as easily as he will forget my pardon." The prince who thus knelt trembling on the beach at Barfleur, had just been guilty of a most foul and treacherous murder. Regardless of the oath he had taken, he determined to desert the cause of Philip, whom he feared less than his brother ; before doing so he invited the officers of the garrison placed by the French king at Evreus to an entertainment, and massacred them all without mercy. The expedition of Richard, hastily undertaken, was at- tended with only partial success. The French troops were beaten in several engagements, and several towns and castles of Normandy which had been occupied by them, were retaken by Coeur-de-Lion ; but his finances were soon exhausted, and the people of Aquitaine broke out into in- surrection against him. The camjjaiga came to an end in July by a truce for one year. While Richard was absent on the Continent, the govern- ment of England was confided to Hubert "Walter, Arch- bishop of Cantei'bury, who was appointed chief justiciary of the kingdom (a.d. llUa). As Bishop of Salisbury he had accompanied the king to Palestine, and had there shown great courage and ability, as well in the field of battle as in his interview with Saladin. Coeur-dc-Lion knew both how to appreciate and reward the ability shown in his service ; great men seldom choose bad instruments, and the new justiciary proved himself fully worthy of the trust reposed in him. Under his administration the country began to recover from its depressed condition, although the constant demands for money made by the king rendered it difficult to relax, in any great degree, the burdens of the people. Hubert, however, appears to have promoted their well-being to the utmost of his power ; the taxes were raised with as little violence as possible; commerce was fostered, and justice equitably administered in the courts of law. It w;is not long before two of the bitterest enemies of Richard were struck down by death. Leopold, Duke of Austria, was engaged in a tournament, when his horse fell upon him and crushed his foot. The wound mortified ; and when he was told that death was approaching, great terror seized him, for he was still under the sentence of excommunication, in whose force ho firmly believed. In this temper of mind he ordered the hostages of the English king to be set free, and the money he had received from him to be returned. It does not appear, however, that the restitution was made ; for an old traveller, quoted by Mills, * who pa-ssed through Germany towards the close of the seven- teenth century, says that the money " beautified Vienna ; and the two walls round the city, the one old and inward. "Historj- of the Crnsadcs," vol iL, p. 79. little considerable at present, were built with the ransom of Richard I." Taucred, King of Sicily, had died in 1193, and was suc- ceeded by his young son William. As soon as the Emperor Henry had received the ransom of Richard, he expended it in preparations for a second descent upon Italy. In 1195, while Coeur-de-Lion was busily engaged in the war with the French king, Henry marched a vast army into the Sicilian dominions. The people submitted to him by a treaty, the provisions of which he swore to maintain ; but he violated his oath with the most barefaced treachery, committed unheard-of cruelties upon the Sicilian nobles, and put out the eyes of the young king, the son of Tanored. The perfidious emperor having returned to his own country laden with spoils, collected a still larger army than before, and again marched into SicUy. But in this expedition, so abominable were the deeds committed by his orders, that even his wife Constance turned against him, and took tho side of her oppressed countrymen. The incensed Sicilians attacked him with the energy of despair, and he was com- pelled to seek terms of peace, which he had no sooner ob- tained than death put an end to his career of cruelty. Like Leopold, he died in the agonies of a fear which is some- times called repentance, and ordered that the ransom of Richard should be restored to him ; but, as might be expected, the command was evaded by his successor to the throne. Before the truce between Richard and Philip had ex- pired, war again broke out, and continued, without any important advantage to either side, until the end of the year, when a temporary peace was once more concluded. The citizens of London had for some time complained of the unequal manner in which the taxes were levied, the poor being made to pay much more, in proportion to their means, than the rich. In the year 1195, the movement took a new form, headed by a man named William Fitz-Osbert, called " LoDgbeard," from the length of the beard whicb he wore to make himself look like a true Saxon. His first act, which showed no sign of disloyalty, was to visit Richard in Normandy, and lay before him the grievance of which the people complained. The king made a courteous reply, and promised that the matter should be inquired into. INIonths passed away, however, without any redress being obtained, and in 1196 Longbeard formed a secret association, which was said to number 52,000 persons, all of whom swore to obey the " Saviour of the Poor," as he was called. Frequent assemblies of the citizens took place at St. Paul's Cross, where their leader delivered political orations, couched in obscure language, and usually prefaced by some text from Scripture. The passions of the people were becoming daily more excited, and it was evident that these meetings could not go on without danger to tho public peace. Longbeard was summoned to appear before a council composed of the barons and higher ecclesiastics, where the strange accusation was brought against him that he had excited among the lower classes of the people the love of liberty and happiness. He attended the council, but so large a concourse of his adherents escorted him there, that it was not considered prudent to take proceedings against him. Great effisrts were made to counteract the effects of his teaching, and the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose virtues were recognised and respected by all classes, went personally among the noorest of the citizens, and prevailed 240 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAOT). [a.d. 1196. upon many of them to give their promise to keep the peace, and to deliver their chOdren into his hands as hostages for their good faith. Two citizens now presented themselves to the council, and since it was dangerous to arrest Long- beard openly, offered to take him by surprise. The offer was accepted, and these men were employed to dog his foot- steps, and watch an opportunity of seizing him. At length they found him with only a few companions, and having called to their assistance some armed men whom they had in readiness, they advanced and laid hands upon him. Long- man to the tail of a horse, and dragged him in this manner to the Tower of London, whence, by sentence of the chief justiciary, he was taken to West Smithfield and was there hung, together with his companions. During this cruel torture of their leader the citizens re- mained passive, making no attempt to rescue him ; and yet no sooner was he dead, than they proclaimed him to bo a saint and a martyr, and cut up the gibbet on which he was hung into relics, which were preserved with a religious veneration. The fame of the " King of the Poor " had The Death of Lonsbeard. beard immediately drew a knife and stabbed one of them to the heart; then with his coniixinioDS he effected his escape to the Church of St. Mary of Arches, in the tower of which he barricaded himself Here for several days he maintained his position, but at length the tower was set on fire, and LoDgbeard and his friends wore driven out by the flames. They were immediately seized and bound, but at that moment a youth, the son of the citizen who was killed, approached Longbeard, and plunged a knife into his bowels. The wound did not cause death, and the soldiers — to whom pity would seem to have been unknown — tied the wounded travelled far and wide, and the peasantry from remote parts of the kingdom made pilgrimages to Smithfield, in the belief that miracles would be wrought on the spot where he fell. So great was the popular enthusiasm that it became necessary to maintain a guard of soldiers on the spot, and some of the more troublesome pilgrims were imprisoned and scourged. Even these severe measures were only successful after a considerable lapse of time, so enthusiastic were the people in their attachment to the memory of one whom they believed had died in their cause, but whom in his death- agony they raised no arm to save. A.r. 1197.] INSURRECTION IN AQUITAINE. 241 In the year 1197, hostilities again commenced between Richard and Philip, the latter of whom derived support from the disaffection of the English king's Continental subjects. The people of Brittany — ever impetuous and eager for liberty — joined the standard of Philip, or fought separately against his enemy, without reflecting that their efforts, if success- ful, would tend only to a change of masters, and not to establishing their independence. The men of Aquitaine had riaen in insurrection, headed by the same Bertrand of Born who had formerly excited Richard to rebellion against his father, and who now, by his old expedients of biting satires and lampoons, occupied himself in fomenting dissen- captured by Marchadee, a captain of the Brabanters in the king's service. He was taken in complete armour, fighting sword in hand, contrary to the canons of the Church. By direction of Richard he was consigned to a dungeon in the castle of Rouen. Two of his priests presented themselves before the king, to beg that their bishop might no longer be subjected to such harsh treatment. Richard replied that they themselves should judge if he deserved it. " This man," said he, " has done me many wrongs, one of which is not to be forgotten. When I was a prisoner, in the hands of the emperor, and when, in consideration of my royal birth, they began to treat me with some little respect, your master Priests interceding with King Richard for the Bishop of Beaiivais. Bions between his former ally and Philip. Tlie Earl of Flanders in the north, and the Earl of Toulouse in the south, simultaneously declared war against Richard, and raised large bodies of troop in their territories. The war con- tinued in a desultory manner, fortune leaning now to this side, now to that; but wherever Coeur-de-Lion showed himself in person, he maintained his reputation, and over- came his opponents. The king ultimately secured the ad- herence of the Earl of Toulouse, by giving him the hand of his sister Joan, the Queen Dowager of Sicily, who, with the Queen Berengaria, bad returned to Aquitaine. In this campaign the Bishop of Beauvais, a powerful prelate, who had evinced great enmity to Richard, was 21 arrived and used his influence to my injury. He spoke to the emperor over night, and the next morning I was made to wear a chain such as a horse could hardly bear. Say, now, what he merits at my hands, and answer justly." The priests are said to have made no reply, and quitted the royal presence. Efforts were then made in a more influential quarter on behalf of the bishop. He appealed to Pope Celestine, who replied that in such a case he could not use his pontifical authority, but would address his request to Richard as a friend. He did so, and sent the king a letter, in which he implored mercy for his " dear son, the Bishop of Beau- vais." Richard replied by sending to the Pope the bishop's coat of mail, which was covered with blood, and attaching 242 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1199. to it a scroll containing the following verse from the Old Testament — "This have we found; know now whether it be thy son's coat or no?" Celestine, who appears to have relished the joke, replied, " No ; it is the coat of a son of Mars. Let Mars deliver him if he can." On this occasion Richard proved implacable ; he refused the lai'ge sum of 10,000 marks which were offered as a ransom ; and until the king's death the Bishop of Beauvais remained in the dungeon in chains. In the following year (a.d. 1198) the truce again expired, and war broke out once more, and for the last time, between the two lungs. The prolonged contest seemed to have in- cro.ised their hatred, and led thera to wreak then- ven- '^canee upon their unhappy prisoners who fell into their hands. Great cruelties were practised by both armies, who, as they passed through their enemy's territory, burned up the homesteads of the people, and laid waste the fields. A pitched battle took place near Gisors, in which Richard obtained a complete victory, and Philip, in his retreat, had a narrow escape from drowning in the river Epte, the bridge over which he crossed breaking down under the weight of his troops. Richard then exclaimed, exultingly, that he had made the French king drink deeply of the waters of tlie Epte. During the engagement Coeur-de- Liou exliibitoJ all his old prowess. It is related that he roJe unattended against tlu'ee knights, whom he struck down one after the other and made prisoners. This was CcBur-de-Lion's last exploit in the field. A truce was de- clared between the obstinate beUigerents, and was solemnly r.itified for the term of five years. In those times an oath of truce or a kingly pledge was little else than a ceremony, and isassion or self-interest continually broke down the most soleinu vows and attestations. Thus the truce for five years was infringed in as many weeks ; but the difference was a trivial one, and was concluded without further hosti- lities. Richard then marched a body of troops against the insurgents of Aquitaine. For some time previously the minstrels of the south had been heard to introduce among their love songs a ballad of more gloomy portent. This ballad contained a prophecy that iu Limousin an arrow was making by which the tyrant King of England should die. Such proved to be, indeed, the manner of Richard's death, and the previous existence of the prophecy would seem to indicate a conspiracy to assassinate him. These were the men who, as already related, had attempted the life of Henry II., by shooting arrows at him ; and it is not improbable that they should have determined among themselves to get rid of his son in the same manner. The circumstances of Richard's death, however, seem to have had no connection with such a con- spiracy ; it was provoked by his own spirit of revenge, and ty the reckless iudift'erence witli which he exposed himself to danger. The story most commonly received is to the iibllowiug eft'ect : — Vidomar, the Viscount of Limoges, had found a considerable treasure, which Richard, as his feutlal Lrd, demanded. The viscount offered one-half, and no more ; and the king, who wanted money, and seldom listened to argument in such cases, besieged the rebellious noble in his ca-stls of Chaliiz. Famine soon appeared among the garrison, and they sent to the king to tender their submis- sion, on the condition only that their lives might be spared. Ricliard refused the request, and swore he would storm the cnstio and hang the whole garrison on the battlements. The unhappy men of Chaluz had received this reply, which seemed to cut them off from hope, and they were consulting together with despairing looks, when they observed the king, attended by Marchadee, approaching the castle walls to reconnoitre and determine where the attack should be made. A youth named Bertrand de Gurdun, who stood upon the ramparts, then took a bow, and directing an arrow at the king, lodged it in his left shoulder. The castle was then carried by assault, and the whole of the garrison were massacred except Bertrand, who was led into the presence of Richard, to learn that more horrible fate which it was supposed would await him. Meanwhile, the arrow-head had been extracted with great difficulty by the surgeon, and it was evident that the wound would prove mortal. In the presence of death none but the most depraved minds retain their animosities ; and the dying king looked calmly on his murderer, while the youth, for his part, bore an undaunted brow. " What have I done to thee," Cceur-de-Lion said, " that thou shouldst seek my life?" The youth answered, " Thou hast killed with thine own hand my father and my two brothers, and myself thou wouldst hang. Let me die in torture if thou wilt ; I care not, so that thou, the tyrant, diest with me." Such a speech found an echo in the breast of him of the Lion-Heart: "Youth," he said, "I forgive thee. Lot him go free, and give him a hundred sliillings." The command was not obeyed, for it is related that Mar- chadee retained the prisoner, and after the king's death caused him to be flayed alive, and then to be hung. Like others of the princes his contemporaries, Richard expressed contrition and remorse at the prospect of death, and in his last moments courted the ofhces of the Churuh. lie died on the 6th of April, 1199, at the age of forty-two, having reigned, or rather worn the crown, for nearly ten years ; during which, with the exception of a few months, he was absent from England. Ho had no children to succeed to the throne, and he left a will, in which he appointed his suc- cessor, and gave directions as to the disposal of his remains. " Take my heart," he said, " to Rouen, and let my body lie at my father's feet in the abbey of Fontevrault." Richard Coeur-de-Lion appears to us as the type of man- hood unfettered by a high civilisation — a strong, passionate heart, with great capacities for good or evil, placed above the control of ordinary circumstances, little influenced by the power of religion, and therefore left in a great measure to its native impulses. Richard was revengeful, but not implacable; passionate, but not vindictive. The story of his life, like that of other kings of the Plantagenet race, cannot be written without the record of many acts of cruelty, which there is little to excuse or palliate. If he wanted money he seized it wherever it was to be had, with or with- out a pretext ; if a man opposed him, he crushed him down or hanged him, and showed no scruple. When, on his return from captivity, the garrison of Nottingham held out against his troops, doubting the report of his return, it w.is not until the prisoners taken by the besiegers were hung up before the castle walls that the rebels became convinced of their error, and that the king was really there. Absolute power * is unfitted for human nature ; and since the begin- ning of the world no man has ever wielded it without blame. But if Coeur-de-Lion was not free from the crimes belonging • We say absolute pov/er, because at that time the royal prerogative was really without limit. A.D. moi CHARACTER OF KICHARD I. 243 to his age and kingly position, he surpassed his contempo- raries as much in nobility of character as in bodily strength and valour, llis courage w r. of the Jiighest order ; for it combined cot only the jlash and gallantry common to men whose physical organisation is perfect, and who are incited by the love of military fome, but also that calmer, but not less admirable, quality of fortitude, which sustains the heart of the prisoner in chains, or of the soldier in time of famine and disease. The business of his life was war, and its acts which we now stamp as cruel and tyrannous, is but to say that he was possessed of power, and lived in the twelfth century ; but to intimate that his whole life was a course of such acts, is to violate historical justice. This terrible warrior-king had his moments of gentleness, and more than once displayed a magnanimity which, under all the circum- stances, must excite our high admiration. If he was false to his wife, as appears to have been the case, his vices of that kind were less conspicuous than those of his predeces- Effigies of Rietiard I. and Bereng-aria, from tho Tomb ,it Foutovi\uilt. recreation the tournament or the chase. Then, if ever, were the days of chivalry as tliey are depicted by the poets- stormy and perilous days, when the pulse of Hfe beat high, and there was enough of intellectual culture to show men how to use their passions, but not to restrain them. It has been said by a modern historian that the character of Richard was described by the Normans in one word, when they called him Cccur-de-Lio», or the Lion-Heart, but that the tiger might with more fitness have been taken as his prototype. Such an opinion does not appear to be war- ranted by the facts. To say that Richard was guilty of sors. If he struck down his enemies without pity, he at least used no treachery for that purpose. AVhatever he did he dared to do openly, and would have disdained to use intrigues like those which disgraced the sovereigns of France and Germany. Without searching the records of his reign for isolated instances of virtue, we may believe that many noble qualities must have been possessed by the man who j could attach his friends and attendants so warmly to him- I self, and excite in the breasts of his people — ground down ! as they were by liis exactions— such strong sentiments of ! loyalty and admiration. 244 CASSELL'S ILLiJsTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. Ca.d. 1199. As we look back for a moment upon the scenes and per- sonages of that remote time, dimly shadowed forth to us by the records of early, or the imagination of late, historians, vre view a strange and varied picture, like a grand proces- Bion passing before us. Clouds brood over the landscape, but when these are cleared away, the sun shines out upon the many-coloured trees, the green hills, and cultured fields, with here and there a lowly hamlet, lordly tower, or solemn fane. A gallant company appear upon the scene, with sound of trumpets, gay banners, and ghttering armour. There are knights with lance iu rest, engaging in the tour- nament-" or the battle, each with visor down, and known only by the dorioe upon his shield, which tells his opponent with whom ho has to cope — bearing on his helm a bit of coloured stuff cut from the dress of some fair dame to whom he has devoted his sword. The king is there, with jewelled crown and panoply of state, surrounded by all the splendour which the earth could give to minister to mortal pride, the man before whom his fellows are content to bow and offer service. Noble ladies are there, gentle and beautifm, but with a courage and strength uncommon to their sex, in- duced by a life of danger and adveutm-e. We see them joining in the chase ; eagerly looking on at the tournament, where their applause is the prize of the victor ; defending the castle of their lord in his absence, or even following him to the w.irs. Prelates in their mitres and costly robes come next upon the scene — some with the mild and bene- volent features befitting the ministers of religion; others bearing rather the gait of princes, proud of their superior knowledge, and conscious of a subtle power before which even kings were made to tremble. In cathedral aisles, whose dim light fitly typified the state of religious know- ledge, priests are chanting their prayers to heaven, while in noble halls the minstrels are singing their merry songs of earth. So the brilliant pageant passes on, and knights and ladies, monks and minstrels, alike vanish from the scene. The sun shines still on field and tower, but the tower is in ruins, and the gay procession has faded away into the twilight of the past. Other parts of the landscape are more dimly presented to us. Of the struggles and sufferings of the people, their pursuits and their pleasures, we know comjaaratively little ; they occupy the back-ground of the historical picture, and their acts do not as yet possess much influence upon the .destinies of the nation. We see life insecure in aU parts of the kingdom, and the property of the weak continually at the mercy of the strong. The laws are for the most part inoperative, or used only by the rich as instruments of oppression. Tlie labourer who toils in the fields, or the citizen who hoards his gold, cannot tell who wUl reap the fruits of his labour ; but, amidst the present confusion, both these chesses are steadily increasing in influence. Their condition is by no means one of apathy ; a sense of their rights is dawning upon them, of which a proof may be found in the enthusiasm created throughout the country by the teachings of Lougbeard, and the deeds of Robin Hood. * The tournament was first Introduced into England by Richard I. Tlie iiffures upon the shicliig of tho kniglits were tlio orij/In of tiio modern coat of arms ; Itiuhard being llie first of thv. liuBHtili kings who bore the device of 1 tucc lionn. CHAPTER L. Accession of John, surnames Sans-terrc, or Lacliland, a.d. 1199— Disatfection of thepeopleof Eng:land — Insurrections on the Coatinent — Philip declares war— Career r.nd Death of Prince Arthur— Invasion of Normandy by tho Bretons and the French— Conquest of Xormandy and the Euglisli Conti- nental Provinces — John's Quarrel with the Pojje — Interdict of the Kingdom and Excommunication of the King— Submission of John. When the news of the death of Richard I. was conveyed to his brother John, he immediately took measures for ob- taining possession of the throne. This degenerate son of the house of Plantagenet recovered his com'age when he had only a child to oppose his ambitious schemes — for the young Arthur, whom Richard had appointed his heir, was not yet twelve years old. John, who knew well how little popularity he possessed in England, sent to secure the services of the foreign mercenaries who had been in the army of Richard, offering them a greatly increased rate of pay, and promising to their leaders profitable appointments. Being then in Normandy; he dispatched William ]\Iares- chall and Hubert Walter, the Archbishop of Canterbury, whose adherence he had obtained, into England, to further his claims, and prepare the way for his coining. Mean- while, he presented himself before the castle of Chinou, and demanded possession of his brother's treasure, which was there deposited. No opposition was made to him in that neighbourhood, and the Governor of ChLnon, as well as those of other strongholds, opened their gates at his bidding. Not so the Lords of Touraiue, Anjou, and Maine, who joined the Bretons in supporting the claims of their young prince Arthur, and raised the standard of revolt. John caused himself to be inaugurated at Rouen as Duke of Normandy, and having wreaked his vengeance on the citizens of IMans, for having refused liim their allegiance, he crossed the Channel, and landed at Shorehain on the 25th of Blay, a.d. 1199, six weeks after his brother's death. AVhen Hubert of Canterbury and William MareschaU arrived in England, they caused proclamation to be made throughout the kingdom, calling upon all the earls, barons, and owners of land to render fealty to John, Duke of Nor- mandy, son of King Henry, son of the Empress JIatilda. But the character of John was well known to the English barons, and few of them were disposed to yield to the authority of a tyrant whose cruelty had hitherto been measm-ed only by his power. They retired to their castles and fortified towns, preparing them for defence and laying up stores of provisions. The more turbulent and reckless characters among the people took advantage of the moment when the arm of power was relaxed, and made predatory excursions through the country. Those who had the moans armed themselves in defence of their property, and thus continual conflicts were taking place among different classes of the population, and the land appeared to be rapidly approach- ing a condition of civil war. AVhatever may have been the motives which first induced Hubert to espouse the cause of John, it will scarcely be denied that the archbishop was justified in putting an end to this state of things, by any means in his power. It has been already stated that Hubert Walter was a man of very high abiUties, and these he now- exerted to tho utmost, and with a remarkable success. Having summoned a council of the barons and prelates at Nottingham, he used all his eloquence to ovcfcome the dis- afi'ection of the assembly, wliile to arguments were added A.D. 1199.] ACCESSION OF JOHN. 215 secret gifts and lavish promises iu the name of John. These inducements prevailed, and the barons there present took the oath of allegiance. Immediately after the landing of John, he proceeded to the church of St. Teter, at Westminster, there to prefer formally his claim to the crown. Ho carried witli him a document, which pm-pmHed to be a will signed by Richard on his death-bed, in which no allusion was made to the claims of Arthur, but John was appointed unreservedly as the successor to the throne. There seems as little reason to suppose that Richard would have made such a wiU, as to doubt that John was capable of forging it ; but whether the instrument was true or not, it had no influence upon the events which followed. The Archbishop Hubert was well aware that, according to the laws of primogeniture, Arthur, as the only sou of an elder brother, had an undoubted ri"ht to the succession ; the prelate, therefore, in addressing th°e people assembled in the church, assumed that the monarchy was entirely elective, and that no man could declared himself in favour of the cause of the young Arthur. John, having sent an army under the command of William de StutevUle to oppose the Scottish king, passed over into Normandy. Negotiations were then entered into by Philip, who demanded that all the Continental pro- vinces subject to England, with the exception of Normandy, should be given up to Arthur, and that a large portion of Normandy should bo resigned to the French crown. Such terms could not be accepted, and the war continued. The young prince, whose claims to the English throne gave rise to so much of bloodshed and revolution, appeared to have been marked for misfortune from his birth. He was a posthumous child, his father, Geoffrey, Duke of Brittany, second son of Henry II., having been killed in a tour- nament several months before Arthur came into the world. The Bretons, who were perpetually struggling for independence against the overwhelming force of France on the one hand and of England on the other, hailed the birth of their native prince with enthusiastic Great Seal of King John, affixed to Magna Charta. he entitled to the crown unless he wore chosen by the nation. He asserted that John had already been so chosen at the council held at Nottingham, and that there was no one of the family of the dead king better fitted to assume the regal dignity. He declared that John possessed those meritorious qualities which had belonged to King Richard — a statement which it would have been difficult to prove — and that for these reasons, as well as for having the same lineage, he was elected king. Whatever may have been the real temper of the assembly, no opposition was made to these statements, and the English crown was conferred upon the most vicious and worthless prince who ever wore it. The new king began his reign amidst the disaffection, if not the hatred, of the people, while he was menaced on every side by the attacks of enemies from without. In the north, William the Lion, King of Scotland, was preparing to invade his territories ; while on the Continent, all his vassals, except those of Normandy, were in insurrection, and the French king, his former ally, had declared war against him. The aspect of affairs was highly favourable to the designs of Philip, who, to further his own ends. joy, and when his grandfather desired to give him the name of Henry, they one and all insisted that he should be called Arthur— a name which was held in as much honour by them as among their kindred, the Britons of Wales. The latter people, who held tenaciously by their ancient traditions, handed down by the bards from gone- ration to generation, beUeved firmly that they were destined once more to possess the whole island of Britain. The confidence they expressed in this wild hope, opposed as it was to all probability, caused them to be regarded both in England and France as haviug the gift of prophecy. The songs of their ancient poets, imaginative and obscure, were supposed to possess a hidden meaning which was traced in the political events occurring many years afterwards. Hence arose the strange stories related of Myrdhin, a Cambrian bard of the seventh century, who. after .- lapse of five hundred years, had become cele"bratea una'er the name of the enchanter Merlin. To this source, also, is to bo attributed the extraordinary fame of King Arthur, of whose existence no authentic records remain, but to whom the glowing imaginations of the Welsh poets attri- buted superhuman valour 9.M virtues. The writings ot 24fi CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. la.d. 1199. that people, when translated into the languages of the Con- tinent, were read with avidity. The troubadours of Provence completed the picture drawn by the Welsh, and from the shadowy outline furnished by tradition, produced that vigorous portraiture of a perfect knight which became celebrated throughout Europe. The Welsh placed the most entire confidence in the prediction of Merlin, that | While the Bretons were fighting against Richard I., Con- stance, the mother of Arthur, relinquished their support, and carried her son first to the court of Richard and then to that of the King of France. When John ascended the throne, Arthur was placed under the protection of Philip, to whom the boy-prince was made to surrender the independence of Brittany, Maine, and Anjou, by acknowledging him as Richard Cceur-de-Lion receiving his de.a'h wound before the CasiUe of Chaluz. King Arthur would return to them and restore their ancient glory ; and this belief was shared by the Bretons of the Continent. These were the reasons which induced the latter people to call their young chief by the name of Arthur; and as the child grew in strength and beauty, they hoped to see the day when their independence should be restored through him, and he should rule them without the control of French or English. feudal suzerain of those provinces. Constance was a woman of little virtue, and seems to have cared more about the prosecution of her own intrigues than the welfare and B.afety of her child. The Bretons, headed by William of Dearoches, firmly maintained the attitude they had assumed; while John, with his army of mercenaries, advanced upon their lands, spreading ruin and devastation around him— biu-ning the villagos, and selling the inhabitants as slaves. A.D. ii99.:i PRINCE ARTHUR. 247 PhUip marched a body of troops to the assistance of Desroehes, took possession of several towns of Brittany, and seized some castles on the frontiers belonging to the English. No sooner had he done so, however, than he dismantled or the king replied, " Am I not free to do what I please in my own territories?" Arthur then perceived the mistake ha had made in placing his cause in the hands of this rapacious monarch. Assisted by Desroehes, the young prince and his The Death ol Prince Ai-thur. (See page 219.) razed to the ground these fortifications, with the view of depriving the country of its defences, and thus leaving it open to the attacks which he himself proposed to make upon it. When young Arthur, who had declared himself his vassal, ventured a remonstrance against these proceedings. mother quitted the French court, and not knowing where to seek a refuge, gave themselves up to John, who, with his customary hypocrisy, received his nephew with smiles and caresses, and at the same time gave orders for his imprison- ment. Arthur was apprised of the intended treachery, and 248 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1202. having succeeded in effecting his escape, he returned once more to Philip. The King of France — who well knew the strength which his arms derived from his apparent support of the boy's claims — welcomed him back without anger, and, by way of securing him for the future, conferred upon him the honour of knighthood, and even promised him the hand of his daughter jMary in marriage. This friendly attitude, how- ever, did not exist long. Philip soon perceived that it was impossible to retain possession of his new territories, so long as he was opposed by the inhabitants themselves on the one hand, and the arms of the King of England on the other. He therefore determined to arrange a peace with John, and for that purpose he completely sacrificed the interests of the young prince, to whom ho had so lately promised an alliance with himself. By a treaty concluded in the following year (a. I). 1200) between the two kings, it was agreed that John should retain possession of all the provinces held by his father, and Arthur was compelled to do homage to his uncle for Anjou, Brittany, and Maine. In return for these con- cessions Philip obtained the peace he desired, together with the possession of several towns, and a sum of 30,000 marks. There was ako a secret clause, or promise, attached 4o the treaty, by which, in case the Iving of England died with- out issue, the French king should succeed to the whole of his Continental dominions. In spite of the act which thus deprived young Arthur of his inheritance, he remained at the French court, where Philip retained him, to be brought forward in case of any new cause of ofl'ence on the part of John. It was not long before such an occurrence took place. With the ex- ception of Normandy, the only province under the Anglo- Norman rule which refrained from open rebelhon against John was that of Aquitaine, or Guienne. Peace had been maintained there chiefly by the influence of the Queen Eleanor, who was the representative of the ancient lords of the province, and to whose person the people had always shown great attachment. In the summer of the year 1200 John made a progress through this part of his dominions, and, by the pomp and parade with which he appeared, made a favourable impression upon the lively and impressible children of the south. On this occasion John, who was a tolerably good actor, exerted all his powers to obtain popu- larity, and strove to hide his naturally tyrannical and vin- dictive temper under a smiling face and affable manner. It appears that he was only partially successful. He had not sulRcient patience or self-control to continue long this kind of deceit, and on some trifling provocation his real character would display itself. He was already married, and had been so for ten years, to Avisa, daughter of the Earl of Gloucester, a gentle and amiable woman ; but John waa as remarkable for licentiousness as for cruelty, and his passions were under no restraint, except from his fears. At the time of his visit to Arpiitaine, he saw a lady whose beauty vras celebrated throughout the French provinces, and who immediately attracted his lawless admiration. This was Isabella, the daughter of the Count of Angouleme, and lately married to Hugh dc Brun, Count of La JMarcho. Regardless of the ties by which botli she and Iiimself were bound, John seized pos- session of her person and took her to Angouleme, where the ceremony of marriage was performed between them by the Archbishop of Bordeaux. A few months later he returned to England, eai'iying with him his new wife, who was crowned at Westminster by the Archbishop of Canterbury. John himself was re-crowned on that occasion. He then gave himself up to indolence and luxury, not knowing or caring how the kingdom was governed ; heeding little the disaS'ection of his people at home, or the indignation which his tyranny had excited throughout France. The Count of La Marohe was a young and powerful chief, who was not likely to endure without resistance the grievous wrong he had suSered. The barons, his neighbours, made his cause their own ; and when he raised the standard of rebellion they armed their retainers in his service. John, apprised of the storm which was gathering in the south, summoned his lords to attend him with their troops. IMany of them at once refused, and said openly that they would not unsheathe their swords in such a paltry and dishonourable war. There were some high-minded men among the Anglo- Norman barons ; but the majority of them were not apt to be so scrupulous, and their refusal was dictated by no other reason than their hatred to the king. They afterwards proposed to accompany him on condition of all their rights and liberties being restored. John's rage on this occasion gave him energy ; and for a time he asserted his authority by compelling the barons to pay the tax of scutage, and to give hostages in place of their personal service. He then crossed over into Normandy, accompanied by Isabella, and proceeded to Paris, where he was received by Philip — a much abler hypocrite — with great show of courtesy. The French king had already entered into an alliance with the Count of La Marche, and was at that moment engaged in organising a formidable insurrection in Brittany. A part of Aquitaine stQl remained quiet under the influence of Eleanor ; and through this district John passed in state after he had quitted Paris. He, however, did not go for the purpose of fighting, and soon marched back again, having produced no other effect than to inspire the insurgents with contempt for so aimless a demonstration. In the year 1202 the struggle at length commenced which was destined to give a fatal blow to the Plantagenet power in France. It has been considered probable that had the successors of Henry II. possessed the abilities which distinguished that monarch, they would ultimately Iiave extended their authority over the whole of France ; but if we regard the relative geographic.il positions of the two countries, and the turbulent and warlike character of the GalUc tribes, it will appear unlikely that such a con« dition of affairs could have been long maintained, and that, on the contrary, it was almost ci matter of certainty that the French provinces would, sooner or later, become separated from the EugUsh crown ; but that separation took place at a much earlier period than it otherwise would have done, in consequence of the indolence and pusillan- imity of John. Philip, who had waited only to arrange certain difterences in which he had been engaged with the Pope, now openly declared hnnself in favour of the claims of Arthur, and of the cause of the men of Aquitaine. He proclaimed the young prince Count of Brittany, Anjou, and Poitou, and gave him 200 knights, with whom he directed him to march and take possession of those provinces, and to conquer the towns of Poitou, which were in the hands of the English king. Arthur entered into a treaty, by which he resigned to Philip all the Norman territory of which the king had become possessed, or might obtai/i during the expedition which he was preparing to take into A.D. 1202.] MURDER OF ARTHUR. 249 that province. Arthur then raised liis standard, and ap- pealed for aid to the Bretons, who promptly responded to tlio call by joining in alliance with the Poitovins, and send- ing their prince 500 knights and 400 foot. These, with 100 men-at-arms from Touraine and Poitou, and the small body of French troops, was all the force at his command. It did not suit the purpose of Philip to place too much power in the liand.s of the boy, to whom lie never meant to resign any portion of those territories for which Arthur believed himself to be fighting. Arthur was now an orphan, his mother Constance having •lied during his stay at the French court ; he was in his fifteenth year, and therefore, though possessing all the valour of his race, he was necessarily deficient in knowledge of the art of war, and of experience in the field. Nevertheless, the boy-leader rode gallantly at the head of his little army, and led them against the town of Mirebeau, in which his grandmother, Eleanor of Aquitaine, was then shut up. His advisers may probably have reminded him that Eleanor had always been the enemy of his mother, and that could he take her prisoner, it would be an im- portant step towards bringing the king, his uncle, to terms. ^Vhethe^ Ai-thur was or was not aware that his grand- mother was within the town, the cu'cumstance proved fatal to the success of the expedition. The town surrendered without much resistance, but not before Eleanor had thrown herself into the castle, which was very strong, and there this Amazon of eighty maintained a vigorous defence against the attacks of ttie prince, whose troops had occu- pied the town. The Breton army remained in apparent security, when John, who on this occasion displayed an extraordinary degree of activity, suddenly appeared before the gates of jlirebeau. The troops of Arthur, though taken by surprise, made a gallant resistance, and it was only by means of treachery that, on the night of the 31st of July, John obtained possession of the town. The prince was taken wMle asleep, and the other leaders of the insurrec- tion were made prisoners without the opportunity of resistance. Among these were the unhappy Count of La Marche, Isabella's husband; the Viscounts of Thenars, Limoges, and Lusignan, and nearly 200 other nobles and knights of fame. ICing John now showed to its full extent the hideous malignity of his nature. He caused his gallant prisoners to be loaded with chains, tied toge- ther in open carts drawn by bullocks, and thus to be convoyed to dungeons in Normandy and England. But the deprivation of light, liberty, and hope, was not punishment sufficient to satisfy his cruelty, and he caused them to be subjected to the lingering horrors of starvation. It is related that twenty- two noblemen were starved to death in Corfe Castle, where they had been confined. Of the fate of the young Prince Arthur, no authentic details have been recorded. That his youth and innocence did not save him from the bloody hands of John, is certain, but of the manner in which he came by his death we can only form an idea by comparing the different stories which are ciurrent on the subject among the old chroniclers. Arthur was conveyed by his uncle to the castle of Falaise, whence he was removed to that of Rouen. There he dis- appeared, and there ends the narrative of sober fact, the rest bringing us into the region of conjecture and pro- babiUty. The Normans, who remained loyal to the English king, spread a report that Arthur died of sickness in the castle of Rouen, or was killed in attempting to make his escape ; this statement may be at once rejected as a mere inveution, and not a very ingenious one. The account given by some of the French chroniclers is to the following eff'ect : — John having visited his nephew at Falaise, desired him to put confidence in his uncle. Arthur rejected his advances, and said indignantly, " Give me my inheritance, the kingdom of England." The king then sent liim to Rouen, strongly guarded, and not long afterwards ho suddenly disappeared. It was suspected by all men that John had murdered hia nephew with his own hands, and he became the object of the deepest hatred. The monks of Margan relate that John killed the prince in a fit of drunkenness, and caused his body to be thrown into the Seine, with stones tied at bis feet, but that notwithstanding these, it was cast on the bank, and was buried at the abbey of Bee secretly, for fear of the tyrant.* The story current among the Bretons was nearly similar, with the difference of a change of scene. They related that John having feigned to be reconciled to his nephew, took him from the castle of Rouen, and caused him to ride iu his company in the direction of Cherbourg, keeping near to the sea coast. Towards nightfall one evening, when the prince had ridden with his perfidious uncle in advance of their escort, they arrived at the top of a high cliff over- looking the sea, and John suddenly seized the boy round the waist and threw him over the ciiff. Another account, more circumstantial, and which has been generally received as likely to be the correct one, is given by Puilph, Abbot of Coggleshall. The story is as follows :— The king's coun- cillors having represented to hun that the Bretons would continue their rebeUion so long as the Prince Arthur was in a condition to assume the sovereignty, suggested that the eyes of the boy should be put out, and so render him unfit for government. Some ruffians in the king's service were sent to the dungeon at Falaise to execute this cruel deed, but the tears and prayers of the youth, and his help- less condition, moved even their hearts to pity, and Hubert de Burgh, the warden of the castle, took advantage of their hesitation to forward an earnest appeal for mercy to the king. The only result of the petition was the removal of the prince from Falaise to Rouen. On the 3rd of April, A.D. 1203, he was roused from his sleep, and desired to descend to the foot of the tower, beside which flowed the placid waters of the Seine. At the bottom of the steps he saw a boat, in which was seated the king, his uncle, attended by an esquire named Peter de Maniac. The boy shrank back in terror, anticipating the fate which awaited him, and fell on his knees before his tmcle, making a last appeal for mercy. But John, whose heart was harder than those of the vilest wretches in his pay, gave the sign, and the murder was committed. Some relate that the esquire hesitated to obey the sign, and that John him- self seized his nephew by the hair, ran him through the body, and threw him into the water. Other writers, how- ever, assert that Do Maulac was the actual murderer, and this statement is confirmed by the fact that soon afterwards John gave him the hand of a rich heiress in marriage, as the reward of his services. However near the truth these different statements may have been, it is certain that the rumour of the murder Ann. de Mart;. Vi. 250 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [a-d. 1207. was spread throughout Brittany during the same month of April. The indignation of the people was universal ; they had beUeved their future destiny to be connected with that of their prince, and they professed the greatest attachment to the French king, as the enemy of his murderer. The elder sister of Arthur, the maid of Brittany — whose lot was scarcely more fortunate than that of her brother — was con- fined in a monastery at Bristol, where she remained for forty years; but the people declared Alice, daughter of Constance by her last husband, and half -sister of Arthur, to be their duchess, and appointed her father, Guy of Thouars, as their regent or governor. The barons of the province then appeared before Philip, to whom, as their feudal suzerain, they complained of the murder of their prince. Philip eagerly availed himself of the appeal, and cited John, as his vassal for the duchy of Normandy, to appear before the court of the barons of France, to whom the name of peers was now first given. The accused monarch did not appear, and was condemned by the court to the forfeiture of all the lands which he held of the kingdom of France, possession of which was to be taken by arms. No sooner did Philip appear with his forces on the fron- tier of Poitou, than the inhabitants rose to join his standard, and when he returned to attack Normandy, he found he was anticipated by the Bretons, who had occupied the whole of that portion of the duchy which bordered on their territories. They took by assaidt the strong castle of Jlount St. Michael, seized upon Avranches, and burned the villages which lay between that citji and Caen. These successes gave new strength to the expedition of the French king, who, joined by the people of Anjou and Maine, took Andelys, Evreux, Domfrent, and LLsieux, and then joined the Breton army at Caen. While this formidable confed- eracy menaced him on every side, John was passing his days in voluptuous indolence, or in the sports of the tield. When his courtiers brought him intelligence of new suc- cesses on the part of his enemies, he expressed his contempt of the rabble of Bretons and of anything they could do ; but when, in the month of December, the insurgents appeared in the neighbourhood of Rouen, he suddenly became aware of his danger, and iled over into England. On his arrival, he demanded the aid of the barons to raise an army for his service, but the call was responded to with the utmost apathy. It would appear that the Anglo- Norman lords no longer possessed the great estates they had formerly held in Normandy ; for had such been the case, it is not probable that their hatred to the king would have \nduoed them to disregard their own interests. After in fain attempting to raise a sufficient force to oppose the French king, John appealed to Rome (a.d. 1204), and Pope Innocent sent two legates into France for the purpose of negotiating a peace. Philip, however, who had every- thing to gain by prolonging the war, refused to listen to the entreaties of the legates, and their mission ended without success. ^Vhen John fled from Normandy, there remained in his possession throughout the duchy only tlie town of Rouen and the fortresses of Ch;Ueau-GaiUard and Verneuil. The people of Eouen held oiit until they were reduced to the last extremity by famine, when, having concluded a truce of thirty days with the French king, they sent to John praying for succour. The messengers found the king playing at chesi?, and while they told their deplorable talc, he remained seated at his game and gave them no answer. When the game was over, he told them that he had no means of succouring them, and that they must do the best they could. This was the only recognition he made of the heroic struggle of the citizens on his behalf. Rouen surrendered, the two castles soon afterwards followed its example, and the conquest of Normandy was complete. This duchy was then finally restored to the French crown, after having been separated from it for 292 years. Within the same year, Anjou, Maine, Touraine, Poitou, and Brittany also fell under the authority of Philip, and John retained only a few castles in thase provinces and the territory of Aquitaine, which remained nominally under his rule. The Bretons soon discovered that, so far from having re- covered their independence, they had changed the tyranny of a weak arm for that of a strong one. Disgusted with the supremacy of the King of France, they made efforts which proved fruitless to renew their alliance with John, and then, with a sort of suicidal ferocity, they aided their new sovereign to destroy the independence bf their neigh- bours. In the year 1206, John landed au army at La Rochello, whence he proceeded to the Loire, taking the castle of Montaubau, and burning the town of Angers. His energy, however, did not last long, and for several months he gave himself up to feasting and debauchery. Aroused once more, he passed on to the town of Nantes, tu wliich he laid siege ; but on the approach of PhiUp with au army, he raised the siege, and proposed to negotiate with the French king. During the negotiations John ran away to England, covered with disgi-ace. By the intervention of the Pope, a truce for two years was then arranged between the two kings. Degraded as he was in the eyes of all honourable men, John retained his arrogance, and governed his kingdom with greater tyranny than ever. In the following year {a.d. 1207) he defied the authority of that power concentred in the Holy See, which was now so formidable throughout . Europe, and which he, of all men, was least fitted to resist. The ground of the quarrel was the right of the trown to the appointment of bishops. The Pope had canonically appointed Stephen Langton to the see of Canterbury, and the monks of Canterbury refused to submit to any other archbishop. John, however, was determined that his favourite, John de Gray, Bishop of Norwich, should receive the appointment, and he sent two knights with a body of soldiers to Canterbury, to drive the rebellious monks out of the country. Once more those walls which had witnessed the murder of Becket were profaned by a deed of violence ; the monks were compelled to quit their monastery and take refuge in Flanders, where they were received into the re- ligious houses. Innocent, who was a man of great abiUty, sent a temperate letter to the king, demanding redress for this outrage, but John returned an insolent reply, and set the Pontiff at defiance. Soon afterwards the Bishops of London, Ely, and Worcester received directions from Rome to wait upon the king, and in case they were still unable to obtain redress for the injury, to threaten him with an interdict upon the whole kingdom. John heard the threat with transports of rage, and swore that if the bishops dared to lay his states under an interdict, he would seize upon their property, and drive them and their clergy penniless to Rome ; that if any Roman priests dared to A.D. 1211.J SUBJECTION OF IRELAND. 251 appear in the country, he would cut off their noses and tear out their eyes, and so make them a witness of his vengeance before the nations. Undeterred by these savage menaces, the bishops proclaimed the interdict on the 23rd of March, a.d. 1208, and then fled across the Channel. The effect of an Laterdict has already been described ; and in the present iDstance it was carried out to the fullest extent by the unanimous concurrence of the clergy. During this time the country lay as it were in mourning, the churches were closed, the pictures of the saints covered with black cloth, and their relics laid on ashes in the aisles ; the priests refused their offices with the exception of administer- ing the rite of baptism to infanta and the sacrament to the dying ; and the command of Kome suspended all pubUc prayers to Heaven. At the end of the year Innocent proceeded to further measures, and issued against John the sentence of excommunication. The king now became alarmed at his position. He saw the spirit of disaffi;ction increasing among his barons; he had made enemies of the clergy, and he was hated by the people. Abroad, the aspect of aftairs was no less menacing. He knew that the Pope would follow up the sentence of excommunication by proclaiming his dethronement, and declaring him unworthy to rule in a Christian land ; and he perceived that Phihp was making ready to invade England, armed with the authority of the Holy See. Wherever he looked he saw none but enemies, and it was evident that his downfall would be attended with a general rejoicing through- out Europe. It is related by Matthew Paris that at this moment of danger John applied for succour to the Emir al Nassir, the powerful chief of the Moslems of Spain. It was even reported that he had offered to embrace the religion of Mahomet, and to become a vassal of the Emir, in return for the assistance he demanded. Improbable and disgraceful as such an offer would have been, there is no doubt that John was capable of making it ; but if he did so, it was not accepted, and the king was compelled to give up the attempt to obtain assistance from abroad. For the purpose of raising an army, John determined to obtain money by any and every means in his power, and in the spring of the year 1210, he commenced a series of exactions compared to which those of his predecessors had been moderate. He employed the most lawless means of forcing their hoards from his subjects, and especially from the Jews, who, as the richest, were invariably the first to suffer on such occasions. He declared that his object was to drive the French king from Normandy ; but as soon as he had raised an army, he crossed over into Ireland, where the English nobles had thrown off his authority. He landed on the Cth of June, and on his arrival at DubUn many of the native chiefs came to offer him their homage. With their assistance he marched through the country, destroying the castles of the insurgent barons, who were totally un- prepared for resistance, and within a few weeks he had reduced them to submission. He then established English laws in the island, appointing officers to see them duly executed; he also directed that the same coins of money should be used in the two countries — a measiu-e by which the interests of commerce were greatly promoted. Having appointed John de Gray, Bishop of Norwich, to the govern- ment of the island, he returned to England. This conquest, in which he encountered no opposition, encouraged him to make a descent ni^ou Wales ia the following year (1211). For this purpose more money was required, and he obtained it by measures more flagitious, if possible, than before. He summoned before him all the heads of reUgious establish- ments, abbots and abbesses, and compelled them to deliver up the property of the Church into his hands. Having exhausted this source of supply, he again attacked the Jews visiting them with imprisonment and the torture to forco a comphance with his demands. Aa an instance of the manner in which the unhappy people were dealt with, the following story is related by the chroniclers. There lived at Bristol a very wealthy Jew, who, by the king's command, was thrown into a dungeon untU he should consent to pay 10,000 marks for his liberty. As the Jew preferred rather to be incarcerated than to pay such a sum, the king's patience was soon exhausted, and he gave orders that each day one of the prisoner's teeth should be puUed out of his head until he was reduced to submission.* For seven days the victim endured this torture, but when on the next day the executioner canae to pluck out the eighth tooth, the pain which he had suffered overcame the Jew's fortifude, and he consented to pay the money. This command of John, which was mild and merciful compared with his treatment of other of his captives, displays, however, an ingenuity in torture which could only have occurred to a mind thoroughly cruel and mahgnant. Having now raised a great army, the king entered Wales and penetrated as far as Snowdon. The people could make no resistance against the force brought against them, and they were compelled to pay to him a tribute of cattle, and to give twenty-eight hostages, the sous of their chiefs, as secmity for their fidelity. But the efforts made by John to destroy their independence proved altogether fruitless. Their strength now, as in former years, lay in their mountain fastnesses ; the spirit of freedom has her seat among mountains in every age and country. '\Vithiu a year after the king's return to England, the Welsh were again up in arms. As soon as the news was brought to John he hanged the unhappy youths who were in his hands as hostages, and he was preparing for another descent upon Wales, when he learnt that a conspiracy was forming against him among the Enghsh barons. He then imme- diately relinquished his intention, and shut himself up for fifteen days in Nottingham Castle, where he seems to have stayed iu something like an extremity of fear. His acts at this time were dictated entirely by impulses, now of cruelty, now of cowardice, and cannot be accounted for by any rational rule of conduct. Suddenly he recovered his courage, quitted Nottingham, and marched to Chester, once more declaring that he would exterminate the Welsh ; then as suddenly he retraced his steps and returned to London. It would appear that he lived in continual dread of his liffe, suffering no one to approach him but his immediate attend- ants and favourites, whose fideUty he secured by his gold, and keeping himself surrounded by large bodies of foreign mercenaries. Hated as he knew himself to be, he made no attempt to change his tyrannical conduct or to conciliate the regard of the people, but, on the contrary, each day witnessed some new act of cruelty, which rendered hfm still more obnoxious to his subjects. At length Pope Innocent listened to the prayers of the English exiles, and solemnly proclaimed the deposition of Kolinsbed, 252 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [a.d. 121L the English king, as an enemy to the Church of Christ, and called upon all Christian princes to take up arms against y,m and to join in hurling him from the throne. Stephen Langton, the banished Archbishop of Canterbury, with other prelates, appeared with the Pope's letters at the French court and there called together a solemn council, and informed the king and lords of France that the Pope gave his sanction to the invasion of England. Innocent pro- rcised to Philip the remission of his sins provided he accepted and fulfilled the solemn commission with which he was coast. The superiority already attained by the English saOors was clearly shown on this occasion, and was soon to be stiU more decisively manifested. A French squadron at the mouth of the Seine was destroyed by the EngUsh, who also burned the town of Dieppe, and returned triumph- antly, the fleet at Boulogne not having ventured to leave the harbour. While success thus crowned the arms of John on the sea, he possessed on shore a numerous army of stout English yeomen who had joined his standard, and who, whatever Kin" John. tharged. Pliilip had other inducements to do so, which were sufficiently strong, and he at once collected an array on the coast cf Normandy, and caused a fleet of 1,700 vessels to be made ready at Boulogne and other ports to convey them across the Channel. Aroused by the imminence of the danger, John appealed to his subjects to resist the foreign invader, and collected all the vessels in the kingdom which were capable of being used as transports. Then, under the influence of one of his fits of energy, he acted with boldness and determination ; and before the French fleet had quitted Normandy, the English vessel crossed the Channel and swept along the might be their feelings towards him personally, would doubtless have fought well to save their country from a foreign yoke. But John's courage seldom endured beyond the first moments of excitement, and wlien he found time to calculate risks and chances, he consulted his own safety by any means in his power. He took nc measures for following up his successes, and it was evident that in spite of his haughty defiance of the power of Rome, he would now be glad to escape from his dangerous position by humbling himself before it. Paudulph, the legate of the Pope, who fully understood the character of John, obtained permission to land in England, and presented himself in the royal A.D. 1212.J JOHN AND THE LEGATE. 253 presence. He laid before the king the impolicy of his course of action, the danger he incurred from the French king, whose formidable preparations he described, and the probabiUty of a general rebellion among the English barons. the words of the firiar, which he believed foretold his death, than to the arguments of the legate. After some hesitation, his fears prevailed, and ho agreed to sign an agreement or treaty with the Pope, by which he bound himself to fulfil The facts were undeniable, and urged as they were with all those demands of the Church whose refusals had caused John kneeling before the Pope's Lesjate. all the skill and eloquence of an able diplomatist, they pro- duced the greatest alarm in the breast of the tyrant. This feeling was increased by the' prediction of a hermit named Peter, who asserted that before Ascension Day, which was three days distant, the king would have ceased to reign. IrreUgious as he was, John was by no means free from superstition, and he seems to have attached more weight to 22 j his excommunication ; to restore the monks of Canterbury I to their lands ; to receive into favour all the exiled clergy, especially Stephen Langton, the Archbishop of Canterbury ; and that be should make satisfaction to both clergy and laity for any injuries they had sustained in consequence of the interdict, paying down a sum of £8)000 as a hist insfcalnjsnt of such indemnity. 2u4 CASSTILL'S TLLUSTRATET) ITTSTORY OF ENGLAND, [a.d.1213. Pandulpb agreed, in the Pope's name, that, ou the perform- ance of these conditions, the interdict should be removed from the country, and that the servants of the Church, including the exiled bishops, should swear fidelity to the king. Four of the chief barons of the kingdom bore witness to this compact, which was solemnly concluded. By this agreement John suffered no pocuUar indignity, but it was immediately followed by a proceeding in the highest degree disgraceful, and which can only be accounted for by the subtle art with which the legate worked upon the fears of the pusillanimous monarch. On the 15th of May, a.d. 1213, John proceeded at an early hour in the morning to the church of the Templars at Dover, and there, in the prcsoace of the bishops and nobles of the realm, he knelt down before Pandulph, placed his crown in his hands, and took the oath of fealty to the Pope, At the same time he gave into tlie hands of the legate a document which set forth that be, the King of England, Lord of Ireland, in atonement for his sins against God and the Church, did of his own free will, and with the consent of the barons, surrender into the hands of Pope Innocent and his successors for ever, the kingdom of England and lordship of Ireland, to hold them henceforth as fiefs of the Holy Sec, John and his successors paying for them a yearly tribute of 700 marks for England, and 300 marks for Ireland. On the following day, which was the Feast of the Ascension, John awoke with something of the feeling of a criminal whose hour of execution has arrived. The words of the hermit Peter caused him to tremble even more than the thunders of Home ; and he watched the long hours tiU sunset, anticipating the stroke which was to end his hateful existence. When the time of the prediction had passed away, and he found himself still alive, he caused Peter and his son to be dragged at the tails of horses to the gibbet, where they were executed as a punishment for the terror they had caused him. But it was commonly said among the people that the monk had told no lie ; and that John liad ceased to be a king wlien ha laid his crown at the feet of a foreign priest . CHAPTER LT. The Eeign of John continued— Ths cause of John espoused by the Pope— The first English Navul Victory— Tlio Boltlo of Bouvines— JIagna Charta — Treachery of John— Prince Louis invited to England— Devasta- tion of the Northern Counties — Death of John. The Holy Soo, having secured a humble and subservient vassal in tlie King of England, now espoused his cause, and undertook to defend him against hia enemies. Pandulph returned to Franco, and forbaila PhiUp to prosecute the war, or to invade a kingdom wliich was under the protection 01 the Church. Philip thought proper to argue the matter ou religious grounds, and eaid that he had expended large sums of money upon this expedition, for the purpose of obtaining, according to the promise of the Pontiff, the re- mlsjion of his sins. The legate seems to have cared little about this circumstance, and simply repeated his prohibition. Philip then continued his march towards 'ha coast, pre- pared to defy the authority of the Holy See, and to continue the expedition, now no longer, for the remission of his sins, but avowedly for more worldly ends. His design, however, was frustrated by the disaffection of his vassals, to wlioiJi the command of the Pope served as a sufficient justification of rebelhon. The Earl of Flanders withdrew his forces from the expedition, declaring that he would not engage in such an unjust war. Philip immediately followed him into Flanders, intending to punish his rebellion by seizing upon the whole province. Several towns and fortresses fell into the French king's hands, who passed on, and laid siege to the strong city of Ghent. The Earl of Flanders then applied to John for assistance, which it was manifestly to his interest to grant, and which, therefore, was not refused. The English fleet set sail from the harbour of Portsmouth; 500 vessels, having on board 700 knights and a large force of infantry, under the command of William Long- sword, Earl of Salisbury, a son of fair Rosamond, and WiUiara, Earl of Holland. They bore doviu upon the coast of Flanders, and approached the port of Damme, in which the French fleet, three times more numerous, was lying at anchor. Many of the French troops and sailors were then absent from the ships, engaged in predatory exciu'sions throughout the country. As the English neared the coast, they saw a number of vessels lying outside the harbour, which, capacious as it was, would not contain them all. Shallops, or fishing-boats, were then sent in to recon- noitre, and returned with the news that the fleet had been left without sufiicient hands to defend it. No time was lost. The "tall ships" along the coast were attacked, and captured with little difficidty. The smaller vessels, which, when the tide went down, were left upon the beach, were plundered and set on fire, the men on board escaping to ''he shore. The English then approached the harbour, for the purpose of attacking the fleet within it ; but here a delay took place, iu consequence of the difficulty of bringing a large force to bear in so confined a space. The period of inaction, however, did not last long, and the fleet, ou the preparation of which Philip had exhausted his resources, and which was the first naval armament ever put to sea by the French kings of the Capetian line, was destined to be anuilulated. "Those Frenchmen that were gone abroad into the country, perceiving that the enemies were come, by the running away of their mariners, returned with all speed to their ships to aid their fellows, and so made valiant resistance for a time ; till the Englishmen, getting on land and ranging themselves ou either side of the haven, beat the Frenchmen so on the sides, and the ships grappling together in front, that they fought as it had been in a pitched field, till that, finally, the Frenchmen were not able to sustain the force of the Englishmen, but were constrained, after long fight and great slaughter, to yield themselves pri- soners."* Thus, in the first naval engagement between the two nations, the superiority of the English sailors was placed beyond c- doubt. In the clumsy barl;s of the thirteenth century there was exhibited little of that science I which guides the stately clipper of the nineteenth, but there was no lack of seamanship; the same stout arms manned the ropes — the same stout hearts opposed the foe. As the noise of the battle gradually died away, and the smoke of the burning vessels, curling up from the waters, wound itself about the hills and disappeared, the shattered gear of the English ships was seen to bear aloft the flag who>e name is Victory. Then did Europe bend in unwilling submission, while the i-slanders assumed for ever the empire HolinRhfttL A.n. 1213.1 OTJR rmST NAVAL YICTOUY. 255 of the seas. Since then, the centuries have rolLcd away, each bearing its load of change, decay, and death. Our fathers have done the '.vork set apart for them, and are at rest ; but their blood, their hearts, are ours, and their flag wo bear aloft over every sea, unconquered now as then. To the remotest shores it carries knowledge, commerce, the arts of life, the hope of heaven ; and, though not without stain, it has seldom failed to oppose force to wrong, and to uphold the cause of justice. Blow high, blow low, it passes on its way unscathed ; and storm of wind or rage of man beats vainly against the flag which, with its kindred banner of America, bears within its folds the future of the world. AN'hen the conquerors had returned thanks to Heaven for their victory, they sent 300 of the prizes to England ; these were richly laden with stores for the French army — corn, oil, wine, and other provisions. Others of the .ships, which were on shore, were burnt within the harbour. A portion of the fieet, which lay higher up, protected by the town, still remained uninjured ; and the English, having lauded, were joined by the Earl of Flanders, and proceeded to attack the place. Meanwhile, the French king had learnt the destruction of his fleet, and, having raised the siege of Ghent, was advancing with the utmost rapidity. The English and the Flemings made a gallant defence in the engagement which soon afterwards took place ; but the force opposed to them was overwhelming, and they were compelled to retreat to their ships, with a loss which is stated by the French to have been 2,000 men. But the English had no intention of relinquishing the contest, and, from the shores of the Isle of Walcheren, they watched their opportunity for renewing the attack. Philip perceived that the unskilfulness of his seamen left no hope of pre- serving the remainder of his ships, and he therefore set fire to them himself, that they might not fall into the enemy's hands. It was evident that the project of invading Eng- land must now be abandoned, the French king having no means of transporting his troops across the Channel. He even found it impossible to maintain them in Flanders, and was compelled to make a hasty retreat into his own terri- tories, with scarcely an eiibrt to maintain possession of the towns he had taken. Elated by the success of his arms, John assumed all his old arrogance of demeanour, and showed little disposition to fulfil the terms of the treaty into which he had entered with the Pope. He now determined to invade France, and for this purpose ho summoned the barons of the kingdom to attend him at Portsmouth with their troops. They obeyed the command; but when, in warlike array, they appeared before the king, they refused to sot sail unless the exiled bishops were immediately recalled, according to his promise. John was compelled to submit, and Stephen Langtou, Arch- bishop of Canterbury, with the Bishops of London, Ely, Lincoln, Bath, and Hereford, were restored to their bene- fices. The moaks of Canterbury also returned in peace to their cloister. The king and the archbishop met each other at AViuchester, trhere they exchanged a kiss of amity, and Langtou gave the king absolution for the injuries done to himself and his colleagues ; John once more taking an oath to execute justice, and to preserve his fealty to the Pope. But Stephen Langton, one of the ablest men who ever had filled the arohiepiscopal chair, was not likely to place much cx)nfidence in the promisea of the king ; and John evidently regarded the archbishop with bitter hatred, as the cause o! all his troubles. Leaving directions for the barons to follow him with all speed, John embarked a body of troops in a few ships, anrt reached the island of Jersey. The barons, however, were little disposed to follow their pusillanimous king ; and the scheme for securing their liberties, which, in a vague and indefinite form, had long held possession of their minds, now began to assume strength and consistency. They excused themselves from following the king, by the assertion that their term of feudal service was expired ; and, profiting by his absence, proceeded to hold a great council at 2t. Albans, at which decrees were issued in the form of royal procla- mations, reviving old and mild laws, and threatening with death such of the king's officers as should exceed their pro- visions. Meanwhile, John, having looked in vain for the appearance of the barons, returned from Jersey in a trans- port of rage, and,oollecting his army of mercenaries, marched towards the north, burning up and devastating the lauds of the vebellious nobles. At Northampton, he was met by the Archbishop of Canterbury, who openly censured these acta of violence, and told him that, according to his oath, hia va;sals ought to be tried by their peers, and not crushed by arms. " Mind you your church," the king replied, " and leave me to govern the state." He then continued hia march to Nottingham ; but here, Langton, who joined the courage of the soldier to the wisdom of the priest, agaiu presented himselt in the royal presence, and this time with more determined carriage. He calmly toll thj king that if such a course of action was continued, he would excommu- nicate all the ministers and officers of the crown who obeyed the royal will. John seldom maintained his ground against a determined opponent, and he now gave way once more, and, as a matter of form, summoned the barons to meet him, or his justices. Having thus stopped the tyrannous career of the king, the brave archbishop proceeded to London, where, on the 25th of August, he called a second council of the barons, and read to them the provisions of the charter granted by Henry I. on his accession. In that assembly of feudal lords he dehvered an address advocating the principles of liberty and justice ; and, having induced the council to adopt as the basis of their exertions the charter of Henry I., he caused them to swear fidelity to each other, and to the cause in which they were embarked. A month later, the Cardinal Nicholas, a new legate of the Pope, arrived in England, for the purpose of receiving the indemnity which had been promised by John, and of removing the interdict from the kingdom. Once more John appeared on his knees, renewing his oath of fealty to Innocent, and doing homage to his legate. Ho paid the sum of 15,000 marks to the bishops, and undertook to give them 40,000 more. The interdict was then removed, the churches lost their funereal appearance, and once more the bells rang out their daily call to prayer. The cause of liberty has never been long maintained by the Church of Rome ; and as soon as the submission of John was thus completely assured, slie relin- quished her support of the barons, and commanded her bishops to give their unreserved allegiance to the king. The nobles, however, still relied upon tho strength of their cause, although unblessed by the Pope, and Stephen Langton remained firmly at their head, as one who dared do right though all the world forbade it. The following year (1214) was rendered memorable by the 25G CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [aj). 12U. battle of Bcnvines, in ■wliich the French gained a complete victory over Euglish, Flemish, and German troop>. A powerful confederacy, in which John took a prominent part, had been formed .against the French king. Ferrand, Earl of Flanders, Reynaud, Earl of Boulogne, and Otho, Emperor of Germany, determined, in conjunction with John, to invade France simultaneously, and to divide that kingdom among them. The partition was already made : Ferrand was to receive Paris, with the Isle of France, Reynaiid tlie country of Vermandois, John tlie territory beyond the Loire, and Otbo all the remaining provinces. Tbe Engliah king dispatched a body of troops, commanded by William Long- sword, Earl of Salisbury, to Valenciennes, which had been appointed the head-quarters of the confederates ; he then proceeded to Poitou, whence he led his army into Brittany. Philip, who was thus menaced on both sides, sent his son Louis to oppose thi3 troops of John, and to prevent his advance. This was not difficult, and the cowardice or indecision of the English king kept him in a state of in- activity, while his allies were bei-ng utterly routed. Philip, whose forces were inferior in number to those of his enemies, gave them battle at Bouvines, a village between Lisle and Tournay, and after a sanguinary conflict the Earl of Salisbury, the Earl of Flanders, and the Earl of Boulogne were taken prisoners, together with great numbers of nobles and knights of inferior rank. The Bishop of Beauvais, whose martial spirit was untamed by his long imprisonment, appeared again in the field on this occasion, and he it was who took prisoner the gallant William Longs word. The bishop, however, no longer used a sword, but carried in its stead a formidable club, with which he laid about him, having satisfied himself, by some curious logical process, that in doing so he was acting in accordance with the canon of the Church, which forbade her priests to shed blood. He was not the only bishop who distinguished himself on that day as a warrior. Guerin of Senlis appeared among the French troops, like Odo of Bayeux among the soldiers of the Conqvieror, bearing a wand, or staff of authority, with which he waved them on to victory. The battle of Bouvines, which was fought on the 27th of July, a.d. 1214, is one of the few which this history will have to record as having given an undoubted lustre to the French arms. A few months later John made proposals for a truce, which he obtained for five years, on condition of restoring all the towns and fortresses which he had taken during the expedition. He then made a disgraceful retreat to England, where, with the true spirit of a coward, he vented upon his unoffending subjects that rage which he dared not display towards his foes He disregarded all the vows he had taken, and let loose his foreign mercenaries over the country, who oppre.s3ed and robbed the people in every direction, unrestrained by law, and secure of the king's favour. But his career of tyi-anny was now drawing to a close. Each day which was marked by new acts of oppression cemented more closely the league among the barons, who only waited an opportunity of assembling together for the purpose of arranging a combined movement. Such an opportunity presented itself at the feast of St. Edmund, on the 20th of November, when pilgrims of all ranks, from every part of the country, proceeded to St. Edmondsbury to offer their devotions at the shrine of the saint. Mingling with the crowd of wor.sliippers, the champions of freedom advanced one by one in order of seniority to the high altar, on which they placed their swords, and swore that if the king refused to admit the rights they demanded from him, they would one and all abandon their allegiance, renounce their vows of fealty, and compel him by force of arms to sign a charter granting their just requests. Having agreed to assemble at the court for this purpose in the approaching festival of Christmas, they separated. When Christmas Day arrived John was at Worcester, where he was attended only by a few of his immediate re- tainers and the foreign mercenaries. None of his great vassals came, as the custom was at that season, to offer their congratulations. His attendants tried in vain to assume aa appearance of cheerfulness and festivity, and .among the people such an appearance had long ceased to be found when the king was present. Alarmed at the gloom which surrounded hira, and the desertion of the barons, John hastily rode to London, and there shut himself up in the house of the Knights Templar.^, which was as strong as a fortress. The temper in which the barons entered upon their cause may be inferred from the seasons which they chose for their efforts, and the manner in which they invoked, as it were, the blessing of Heaven upon them. Some holy day consecrated each step of their way, and marked the renewal of the struggle against tyranny. On the feast of the Epiphany they assembled in great force at London, and presenting themselves before the king, de- manded an audience. John was compelled to grant the request, but he assumed a bold and defiant air, and met the barons with an absolute refusal, and the most violent threats. Two of their number were affected by these menaces, and one of the bishops joined them in consenting to recede from their claims; but the rest of the assembly were made of sterner stuff, and firmly maintained their demands. John looked upon their calm and dauntless faces with a dread v.-hicli he could not conceal. He entirely changed his manner, and descended from invective to expostulation. "This petition," he said, "treats of matters weighty and arduous. You must grant me time for deliberation until Easter, that I may be able, in con- sidering the request, to satisfy the dignity of my crown." Many of the barons were opposed to such a delay, knowing how little dependence could be placed upon the king's good faith ; but the greater number consented on condition that Stephen Langtou, Archbishop of Canterbury, AVilliam, Earl of Pembroke, and the Bishop of Ely, should be sureties for the king that ho would give them a reply at the time appointed. As soon as the nobles had quitted his presence, John directed his eftbrts to escaping from the pledge he had ^ven, and took measures which he hoped would bring the rebellious lords within the reach of his vengeance. The important privilege of the appointment of bishops, which in former years had given rise to so many disputes between the Crown .and the Church, was now formally abandoned ; and when, by this means, John believed himself to have secured the goodwill of the clergy, he caused a new oath of allegiance to be administered by the sheriffs to all the free men of their several counties. He then dispatched messengers to Rome, entreating the aid of the Pope against the treasonable violence of the barons. Innocent listened to the appeal, and showed himself determined to support the cause of his royal vassal. The English nobles had also sent their message to the Poutifl', but he answered it only A.D. 1214.1 THE JIAGXA CHaKTA. 257 by a letter of threata and reproached, which was addressed to Stephen Langton, commanding him and his colleagues at once to cease their opposition to the king. Langton, with a high-souled courage, the full extent of which we can now only imperfectly appreciate, disregarded the com- mand, and dared to defend a righteous cause, even in defiance of the Pope. The king, as a last effort to sustain lus tottering throne, assumed the cross, making a folemn oath that he would lead an army on a new crusade to the Holy Land. AVhen Enstor day arrived the king was at Oxford. The barons of England assembled at Stamford, attended by 2,000 knights, and vast multitudes of their retainers, and of the people. They had marched within a few miles of O.xfonl, when they were met by Stephen Langton, the Earl of AVarrenne, and the Earl of Pembroke, who came to bear their message to the king. The barons delivered the schedule containing the chief articles of the petition, and declared that if their claims were not instantly granted, they would appeal to arms. AVhen the deputation returned to the king, and Langton explained to him the terms of the document which he brought, John fell into a transport of rage, and swore that he would not grant them liberties which would make him a slave. He proposed some modi- fications of the charter, which were at once rejected. Pandulph, who stood at his side, asserted that the primate of the kingdom ought to excommunicato the rebels ; but Langton replied that the Pope's real intentions had not been expressed, and that so far from doing so, he would excommunicate the foreign mercenaries which overran the kingdom, unless the king ordered their instant dis- missal. The barons now declared war against the king, chose Robert Fitz-Walter as their leader, and marched against the castle of Northampton, which was garrisoned by foreigners. " The army of God and the Church," for so they styled themselves, was composed of the best and bravest men in the kingdom ; but the strong fortress to which they first laid siege resisted all their attacks. They liad prepared no battering-rams, or other necessary engines ; and the garrison, ou their side, fought with the desperation of men who knew that they had earned for their misdeeds a bitter retribution. After fifteen days the besiegers raised the siege, and marched towards Bedford. The barons were strong in arms, and in the justice of their cause; but their strength was not of itself sufficient to overturn the throne, or force the king to submission. AV'ithin the past century a middle class of freemen had been growing up iu the country, increasing in wealth and influence year by year. Had the king possessed the affec- tions of the free burghers of England, the Anglo-Norman barons, powerful as they were, would have been driven from the country ; but the people knew that now, at least, the cause of the nobles was their own, and they rose with joy to welcome the pioneers of freedom. The men of Bed- ford opened their gates at the approach of the army, and i^jo citizens of London sent messengers to the leaders, in- viting them to march thither with all speed, and assuring them of the support of the people. On Sunday, the 24th of May, the troops of Fitz-Walter reached the capital. The city of London lay wrapped in that Sabbath stillness which, on summer days, descends like a blessing upon an English landscape, as though Nature herself had ceiised from labour. The gates were open, and the music of the church bells floated softly through the air as the "army of God" approached the walls. They passed through the streets in perfect order and profound silence — a mien well suited to convey to all who saw them a con- viction of the solemn nature of the duty they came to perform, and of the calm determination with which they would piu-sue their object. On the following day the barons issued a proclamation to all the nobles and knights of the kingdom who had remained neutral, calling upon them to join the national standard, unless they wished to be treated as enemies of their country. This proclamation aroused the slumbering patriotism of those who laceived it. The baron, with his troop of men-at-arms, and the knight, whose only property was his horse and his sword, alike hastened to London. In the words of the old chroniclers, there is no need to name the men who composed the " army of God and the Church ; " they were the whole nobility of England. Such a demonstration as this might have made a much braver monarch than John Lackland turn white with fear. Only a very few knights from among his numerous courtiers remained at his side, and these were hardly retained in their allegiance by a mingling of lavish promises and threats. The terror of the king now conquered his rage. Once more 1 he assumed an affable demeanour, and with a sickly smile he told the Earl of Pembroke that the barons had done ! well, and that, for the sake of peace and the exaltation of his reign, he was ready to grant the liberties they I demanded. From Odiham, in Hampshire, where John was then staying, the Earl of Pembroke carried this message to his friends, and informed them that the king only desired them to name a day and place of meeting. The barons replied — "Let the day be the 15th of June; the place. Runny-mead." ' The scene thus chosen was well suited to the occasion. No narrow walls of wood or stone, which iu succeeding years should crumble into dust and leave no trace, bore witness to the solemn act whose effects were destined to extend to remotest ages — the victory of freedom was gained under the free sky, the dome of the universal temple of God. Ou the appointed day the king quitted Windsor Castle, and proceeded to the green meadow which was called by the Saxon name of Runny-mead, situated on the banks of the Thames, between Staines and Windsor. He was attended by Pandulph, Almeric, the Grand jMiister of the Templars, the Earl of Pembroke, together with eight bishops and thirteen other men of rank ; but of these, though they stood at his side, few really adhered to the tyrant, or were prepared to give him any advice contrary to the ■wishes of the people. On the other side stood the barons of the kingdom, attended by a vast multitude, representing all other classes of the population. So completely was the arrogance of the king subdued, so hopeless appeared all resistance, that, with scarcely a word of remonstrance, John signed the document presented to him, which, as the foundation of the liberties of England, is known to us by the name of Magna Charta — the Great Charter. To the Englishman of modern times, the event of that day bears a deep and solemn interest, far surpassing that of battles or of conquests. He is surrounded now by many of the blessings which freedom gives to all who live beneath her sway. Under her warm smile civilisatioii 258 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. LA.D. 1215. John refusing to sign JIagna CliaiUi wht-u liist iiresented to liim,. (See page '2':'.) ^roTTS and flourisTicT; kuotriedge slierls around her calm, undying light ; wrong is redressed by free opinion ; and man, with brow erect, throws off the tyranny of mr.n. In llio green meadow by the Thames was sown the seed wliich bears such fruits as these. Centuries more of toil and struggle may be needed to bring it to maturity,- The pro- gress of the human race is slow and beset witii diffiouUies : amidst the present material prosperity, with all the ad- vantages of civil and religious liberty, we are still far from the goal which lies before us. Error still treads close upou the heels of Truth ; pon-er is still held by the few to the discouragement of the many ; poverty still retains her A.o. 1215.] THE l^IAGNA CHARTA. 259 grasp upon half the world, grinding men down to a life-long j of this subject, have thought fit to disregard these facts, struggle, with little joy or hope. But the work steadily i and have spoken of Jlagna Charta as merely a grant ob- goes on. With each passing year flies a prejudice ; with ! tained by the barons for their own purposes, and tha,t its each passing year some gigantic wrong lifts up its liead and provisions were framed by them, not with a view to the rostoi.-- claims and meets rodnss. Now, at least, the way is open to ation of the Saxon laws, but for the preservation of their owe us, and rannot be mistaken ; the light of Heaven shines full feudal privileijes. It is evident that the majority of the baions, upon it, the obstacles grow fewer and weaker every day, i who were of Norman extraction, could have littleiuterest in De Rm-fcb aui\ llio Gorrii5on of Dover C'.istle. tlie efforts to oppose them grow stronger, and the final triumph is secure. The value and importance of Magna Charta is not to be estimated by its immediate application to ourselves. Those positive laws and institutions of later times, which secure our rights and liberties, all have their root in this charter, which first established a legal government, and asserted the nlaims oi justice. Some modern writers who iaave treated restoring the Saxou laws as such ; but it is also certain th it they were actuated by a strict regard for justice, and that those just principles upon which some of the laws of Edward the Confessor were founded, also formed the basis of Magna Charta. During the reigns of the successors of the Conqueror, the king had exercised the power of exacting arbitrary payments IJrom his subjects under thR name cf reliefs ; of 260 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1215. farming out the estates of his wards to the highest bidder ; of marrying the heir during his minority, heiresses at any age above fourteen, and widows if they held estates of the crown, giving their hands to whom he pleased. la the reign of John, the exercise of the laws was a matter of common bargain and sale. Bribes — or, as they were called , fines — were received for the king's help against adverse suitors, for per- version of justice, or delay in its administration. Sometimes it would happen that bribes were given by both parties, in which case it may be supposed that the highest bidder would gain the day, the money of those who lost being returned to them. The charters which had been granted by Henry I., Stephen, and Henry II., had little effect on this state of things, and were, in fact, repeatedly violated both by them- selves and their successors. By the provisions of Magna Charta, reliefs were limited to a moderate sum, computed according to the rank of the tenant ; the wrong and waste committed by the guardians in chivalry restrained ; the disparagement in matrimony of female wards forbidden ; and widows secured from being ibrcibly disposed of in marriage. The franchises of the city of London, and of all towns and boroughs, were declared inviolate. The ports were freely thrown open to foreign merchants, and they were permitted to come and go as they pleased. The Court of Common Pleas, which had hitherto followed the king's ment of the kingdom, setting aside altogether the royal prerogative — a measure which, opposed as it was to all precedent, must be considered as having been rendered necessary by the duplicity of the king, by whom the most solemn oaths were habitually disregarded. When the vast assembly had dispersed, and the defeated tyrant found himself again in Windsor Castle, attended only by some of the foreign adventurers who still hung about his person, he gave vent to all the suppressed passioii of his soul. In transports of impotent rage, he uttered fearful cm-ses against the deed v.'hich had been done, and against those who had forced him to do it ; he rolled his eyes aud gnashed his teeth like one insane, and restlessly strode about his chamber gnawing sticks and stones. So say the chroniclers, and the account may readily be believed : a depraved heart, hardened by a long course of crime and cruelty, would probably display itself in an out- burst of passion in colours such as these. His attendants, ' the slaves of liis gold, who saw their career of robbery and injustice suddenly cut short, incited the king to vengeance for the humiliation he had sustained, and counselled him to resist the charter, and to take measures for the recovery of his power. John, released from his immediate fears, listened to their advice, and sent two of them to the Conti- nent to carry out the schemes they proposed. One of them Specimen of tUo Writing of Magna Charta. Courfc, whereby much inconvenience and injustice had been occasioned, was fixed at Westminster. The most important clauses of Magna Charta are those which protect the personal liberty and property of every freeman in the kingdom, by giving security from arbitrary imprisonment, and unjust exactions. " No freeman," says the charter, "shall be taken, or imprisoned, or dispossessed of his tenement, or be outlawed or exiled, or any otherwise proceeded against, unless by the judgment of his peers, or by the law of the land." The charter also assured the appointment of upright judges, that justice should not be sold or denied to any man, and that the property of every freeman should be disposed of according to his will, or, in case he died intestate, that his heirs should succeed to it. The l)aron3 required securities for the due observance of these provisions. They demanded that the foreign officers of the crown, with then- families and retainers, should be Bent out of the country ; that the barons should keep pos- session of the city, and Stephen Langton of the Tower of London, for the two months following ; that twenty-five of their number should act as guardians of the liberties of the realm, whose business it should be to secure the observance of the charter, and wlio, in case of its provisions being dis- regarded, should have power to make war upon the king, and to seize upon his towns, castles, or other possessions, vmtil the grievance should be redressed. By this article the twenty-five barons were invested with the real govern- took his way to Rome to appeal to the Pope for prompt and efiicient aid ; the other proceeded to Flanders, Gascony, and among the former Continental vassals of the king, to liire fresh bodies of mercenaries and to bring them over to England. Meanwhile the king entered secretly into com- munication with all the governors of castles who were foreigners, ordering them to lay up stores of provisions, and keep themselves prepared for defence, "doing this without noise and with caution, for fear ot alarming the barons." The barons did not yet know what hard and unremitting effort the struggle for liberty demands. They looked upon the work as done, when, in fact, it was only beginning; aud on their departure from Ruimy-mead thoy appointed a grand tournament to be held on the 2nd of July at Stamford, in celebration of their joy. No sooner did he hear of theit intention, than John throw to the winds the oaths he had taken, and formed a plot to take possession of London during the absence of the nobles. The scheme, however, was communicated to them, and the tournament was arranged to take place nearer the capital. The king now proceeded to Winchester, when some deputies from the barons presently demanded an interview with him. They required an explanation of the line of conduct, ambiguous if not treacherous, which he had adopted since the signing of the charter. John met them with the hollow smile which he was accustomed to put on at such times, and as- sured them that their suspicious were unfounded, and that A.D. 1215.] THE BABONS EXCOMMUNICATED. Ml he was prepared to fulfil all that he had promised. The barons withdrew, little satisfied by these assertions, and the king took his way to the Isle of Wight, where he remained for three weeks. Here he refused all companion- ship but that of the fishermen and sailors of the place, whose manners ho adopted, with the view of making himself popular among them. To a certain extent he seems to have succeeded ; aud during the struggle which soon afterwards took place, the English sailors proved generally true to his cause. In July, John was at Oxford ; but after a stay of a few days he again turned to the south, and proceeded to Dover, where he remained, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the mercenaries whom he expected from the Continent. During the month of September, the barons learnt that troops were landing in small bodies, with Uttle noise, but in a manner which indicated a well-organised confederacy. Wil- ham d'Albiney was then sent with a picked force of men-at- arms to seize upon the royal castle at Rochester. Having done so, he found it extremely ill-furnished with stores or means of defence ; and in this condition it was besieged by John, who had quitted Dover with an army of robbers and ruffians of every dye, fropi various parts of the Continent. Each day brought them new reinforcements across the Channel, and their numbers so greatly increased that when the barons quitted London to the relief of Rochester, they were compelled to turn back before the superior force op- posed to them. It seemed as though the elements them- selves could alone check this invasion of banditti. A certain Hugh de Boves, one of their leaders, had embarked from Calais with a vast force of his irregular troops, when a storm arose, against which the unskilful mariners were quite help- less, and the whole of the ships, with those on board, were destroyed. John heard of this loss with another burst of rage, but he still pressed on the siege of Rochester, and succeeded in preventing all succour from reaching it, D'Albiney maintained the defence for eight weeks with un- shaken determination, and it was not until the outer wall of the castle had been beaten down, and the garrison reduced to the last extremity by famine, that he tbrew open the gates. John immediately ordered the brave commander to be hung with all his men ; but Savaric de Manlion, the leader of one of the foreign bands, opposed this command, because he feared the acts of retaliation which it would certainly provoke on the part of the Engl-'sh. The tyrant, shorn of liis power on all sides, was compelled to submit his barbarous will to the decision of the foreign chief. The prisoners of inferior rank were butchered by the king's orders, but the knights were spared, and were sent for imprisonment to the strong castles of Corfe and Nottingham. The Pope now responded to the application of John by declaring himself against the English nation, and issuing sentence of excommunication against the barons. He as- serted that they were worse than Sar.acens, for daring to rebel against a vassal of the Holy See, a religious monarch who had taken up the cross. This decision of the Pope, together with the success at Rochester, gave John new courage, and he marched northward to St. Albans, accom- panied by the immense force which, composed of many races, and presenting striking contrasts of appearance aud accoutrements, posses.sed one common attribute of unre- deemed ferocity. The citizens of London, who were »mong the lii'st to join in the .struggle for right, were also among the bravest to maintain it, and as the foreign hordes swept by the city, showed an undaunted front, which deterred the king from attacking them. From St. Albans he passed on towards Nottingham, encouraging hi« soldiers to seize their pay from the wretched inhabitanta of the country. The northern counties had long been tha chief seat of disaffection, and now Alexander, the young King of Scotland, who had concluded an alliance with the English barons, crossed the borders with an army, and laid siege to the castle of Norham. John saw the means of vengeance in his hands, and ho determined to use them to the utmost. A few days after the feast of Christmas, when the ground was covered with snow, he marched from Nottingham into Yorkshire, laying waste the country, and meeting with no opposition. True to the instincts of his base and malignant character, he became more ruthless in proportion to the helplessness of his victims. Every house and village on the road was destroyed, the king himself giving the example, and setting fire with his own hands in the morning to the roof which had sheltered him during the night. The fury of the savage horde did not end there. The inhabitants, driven from their homes, were plundered of everything they possessed, and often butchered upon their own hearthstones. Others, less happy, were subjected to torture to make them give up thtir hidden stores of money. Such tortures are described by the chroniclers, as only to read of may well cause our blood to run cold with horror, and excite at once our wonder and our fear at the depths of depravity to which human nature may sink. In the castle of Heidelberg, in Germany, there is a large picture which is usually concealed from th« eyes of the visitor by a curtain. It represents with terrible fidelity a mode of torture which still existed during the Middle Ages : that of flaying alive. The victim is one of the early Christian martyrs. Ho stands bound hand and foot to a post, and two niffia" '; are engaged in stripping the skin from his arms. The head of the martyr is thrown back, as in his agony he looks upward. Behind and above him appears the figure of an angel ; the face, when viewed from immediately below, is perfectly calm, but if the spectator steps a few paces backwards, and to the right, H assumes an expression of the deepest pity. In his right hand the angel holds a pen, to which he points, as though to tell the dying man that his name is written in Heaven. It is only by means of such representations as these that we can bring clearly before our minds the deeds of horror which darken the records of the Middle Ages, so unnatural do they appear, and happily so opposed to the feelings and habits of modern times. The expedition of .John to the north, like that of William the Conqueror tlurough the same district, was one long course of rapine and cruelty ; castlea and towns were burned to the ground, and the path of the king was marked by a trail of blood among blackened heaps of ruins. The young King of Scots retired before the vast force brought against him, and John pushed his way to Edinburgh. Here he found himself in danger of attack, and, as was usual with him in such cases, he at onoo turned back, and E3- crossed the border. Among the towns burnt up by the king during this expedition, were Alnwick, Morpeth, Mit- ford, Roxburgh, Berwick, Haddington, and Dunbar. A division of his forces had been left in the south to oppose the b.ironf), and keep in check the citizens of London ; axui 262 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAOT3. L'A.n. 1215. this division, reinforced by fresii arrivals from the Conti- nent made predatory incursions through the southern counties, marking their coiu'se with equal ferocity. The only distinction between their conduct and that of the king, appears to have been that the castles which fell into their hands were occupied by some one of their number, instead of being destroyed. Meanwhile, further measures had been taken by the Church against the insurgent barons. The Abbot of Abingdon, with other ecclesiastics, in obedience to the tyrant and the Pope who supported him, fulminated a second sentence of excom- munication, in which Robert Fitz-Walter, the chief of the confederacy, with many others of the most powerful nobles, were mentioned by name, and an interdict was placed upon the city of London. The measure was not without its effect upon certain classes of the country people, but the courage and intelligence of the citizens of London rose STiperior to the thunder of Rome. In those days the spiri- tual thraldom of Europe was complete, and knowledge confined almost exclusively to the clergy ; but the men of Saxon race possessed a strong sense of justice, and their very instincts told them to despise a power which supported cruelty and oppression in the name of God. In defiance of the interdict they dared still to offer their prayers to Heaven, and to keep the solemn festival of Christmas ; the churches remained open, and the bells still rang out the note of freedom. But dangers were thickening on every side around them. The barons saw themselves hemmed by increasing hordes of foreigners, and at the same time had? reason to fear the effect of the excommunication upon the villains, who were, probably, the most numerous class of the population. It does not appear that there was among the nobles any man of suflicient influence or military genius to break through the obstacles by which they wei'e surrounded. Many councils were held and schemes proposed, only to be laid aside as unfeasible. At length the barons determined to offer the English thi'one to Prince Louis, the eldest son of Philip of France. Such a step scarcely admits of excuse under any circumstances; but the barons, unable of themselves to wrest the power from John, might not improbably consider that any change would be to their advantage, and that it would be better for the country to be under the rule even of the son of their ancient enemy, than to submit to a tyrant who had lost every attribute of manhood. Louis had married Blanche of Castile, who was the niece Oif John, and thus he might pretend to some shadow of a title to the crown. The barons also considered that, if he landed in England, many of the foreign mercenaries, who were subjects of France, would be detached from the cause of John, and would join the standard of their prince. When the proposal wiis carried to tlio court of France, it was received by the king and his son with that degree of exultation which might have been anticipated. Louis was anxious to sail for England immediately ; but Philip, with more wisdom and caution, demanded that twenty-four hostages, the flower of the English nobility, should first be sent to Paris, in assurance of the fidelity of the barons. A French fieet then sailed up the river Thames, and arrived at London in February (a.d. 1216), conveying a small army, whicli formed the first detachment of the French forces. The commander informed the barons that the Prince Louis would arrive in person at the approaching feast of Easter. The Pope — true to the cause he had embraced — no sooner heard of these preparations, than he sent a new legate into England, who, as he passed through France, boldly re- monstrated with the king and his son upon the course they were pursuing. Once more England was called the patri- mony of St. Peter, and PhiUp was asked how he dared to attack it, and was threatened with immediate excommunica- tion in case he persisted in doing so. Louis immediately set up a claim to the English throne in right of his wife; and, leaving the legate in astonishment at this new view of the matter, he escaped from farther argument and took his way to Calais. Having collected a great army, well furnished with stores, he embarked them on board 680 vessels, and set sail from Calais at the appointed time. The English sailors of the Cinque Ports, on whom the efibrts of John to secure their good will had not been thrown away, lay in wait for an opportunity of inflicting damage on the invaders, and a storra having arisen by which the French fleet became scattered, they took advantage of the circum- stance and cut off and captured some of the ships. The rest of the fleet arrived safely at Sandwich, where Louis landed on the 30th of Uay. John had arrived at Dover with a large army ; but so far from attempting to prevent the landing of the French, he made a rapid retreat at the news of their approach. His own unhappy subjects, however, were not in a position to oppose him ; them he could attack and slaughter in safety, and accordingly, wheresoever his army passed, the same cruelties were practised, the same ravages committed as before. He went to Guildford, whence he proceeded to Bristol by way of Winchester. Meanwhile, Louis led his forces to Rochester Castle, which he besieged and captured, and then passed on to London. The French prince entered the capital on the 2nd of June, a.d. 1216, and was received with the greatest demonstrations of joy by rich and poor, Norman and Saxon. A magnificent procession was formed to accompany him to St. Paul's Church, and there, after he had offered up his prayers, the barons of the kingdom and the citizens paid him the vows of homage. He then placed his hand upon a copy of the Evangelists, and swore to restore to the country its just and righteous laws, and to each man the lands or property of which he had been despoiled. One of the first acts of Louis was to issue a manifesto, which waa addressed to (ho King of Scotland and to all the owners of land throughout the country who were not then present in London. The result of this proclamation soon made itself apparent. Any jealousy towards a foreign prince was entirely subdued by the deep hatred with which all classes of the people regarded their king. The force of an idea was not then so great as in more recent times ; the confederacy of the barons, notwithstanding the high and just cause for which they fought, was weak, because it was without a powerful and recognised head. No sooner had the people a living man round whom to rally, instead of a coUeotion of names, than they at once flocked to join his standard. Of the few nobles who had accom- panied John on his marauding expeditions, nearly all quitted him at once and took their way to London ; all the people of the northern counties rose up among the ruins of their homes, and cried aloud for vengeance ; the King of Scotland prepared an army to march once more to the south ; and the foreign mercenaries, with the exception of A.v. 1216.] LAST ILLNESS OF JOHN. 26S the Gascons and Poitevins, renounced their adhesion to the tyrant, and either quitted the country or joined the forces of Louis and the barons. Dangers thickened about the king on every side, and his abject spirit was sustained only by the consolations which Gualo, the Pope's legate, poured into his ear. The legate assured him of the constant sup- port of the Pope, and exhorted him to courage, since it was impossible that any harm could happen to a prince who was under the protection of Holy Church. But now the news arrived that Pope Innocent, whose efforts alone had sus- tained the tyrant in his power, was dead, and a considerable time elapsed before his successor was appointed. Louis marched his forces to Dover, and laid siege to the castle, which was in the hands of Hubert de Burgh, a man whose character stands so high in history, that we are at a loss to understand how he should have retained his alle- giance to John. He, however, proved his loyalty by main- taining a most gallant defence, and effectually repelled all the attacks of the besiegers. Mention is made of a for- midable engine of war, called a malvoisiii, or bad iieir/hboiir, which was sent by Philip to be used by his son at the siege of Dover. Neither this engine nor the bravery of the attacking troops availed anything against the strong walls of the castle and the obstinate defence of the garrison ; and, after a siege which lasted several weeks, Louis was com- pelled to desist from the attack, and he determined to reduce the place by famine. Meanwhile, a number of the barons had laid siege to Windsor Castle, which also made a vigorous defence. The king availed himself of the moment when they were thus occupied to advance upon their estates, where he let loose the greedy adventurers who still remained in his pay. The barons then rais«d the siege to attack the king, who made a hasty retreat. Having succeeded in eluding their pursuit, he reached the town of Stamford. The barons made no attempt to molest him there, but turned and took their way to Dover, where they joined the forces of Louis. Dover Castle still held out, and the prince pertinaciously maintained his position before it, thus losing three months of valuable time, which, had it been well employed, would doubtless have placed him in possession of the throne. In such a case, inactivity necessarily produced discontent, and other causes of complaint soon presented themselves to the English barons. Louis, who showed himself as deficient in policy as in miUtary skill, began to treat the English with disrespect, and made grants of land and titles in England to his own countrymen. At the same time an event occurred, or was believed to have occurred — and in either case the result was the same — which was calculated to destroy at once the bonds of alliance which existed between the barons and the French prince. One of the followers of Louis, named the Viscount de Melun, being seized witli illness at London, and finding himself at the point of death, earnestly desired to see those English nobles who remamed in tha city. When they approached his bedside, he informed them that the prince, with sixteen of his principal barons, had sworn that when the kingdom should be conquered and Louis crowned, all the English who had joined his standard should be banished for ever, as traitors not to be trusted, and their offspring exterminated or reduced to poverty. " Doubt not my words," De Melun said, with his dying breath. " I, who lie here about to die, was one of the con- spirators," ^V^letlle^ this extraordinary scene did or did not take place, the report greatly increased the discontent among the barons. Several of them quitted the standard of Louis, and those who remained appear to have done so merely as the alternative of again tendering their support to John. While such was the condition of affairs in the French camp, it is evident that there was nothing to oppose the king in his lawless course of vengeance. He advanced witli his troops to Lincoln, and having made himself master of the town, ho established his head-quarters there, and rallied around him fugitive bands of his mercenaries. His chief support was derived from the adherence of the seamen of thff country, who appear to have remained firm in their resist- ance to the French invasion. Many ships laden with stores were captured by them on their way from the Continent, and thus the army of Louis found itself frequently deprived of supplies. In the mouth of October the king set out on another predatory excursion, which was destined to be his last. Leaving Lincoln, ho passed through the district of Croyland, burning up the farmhouses attached to the abbey of that name. Then, proceeding eastwards, he went to Lynn and Wisbeach, whence he reached the Cross Keys, a place on the south side of the Wash. At low water the sinds oi this estuary are dry, so as to admit of a passage across for horses and vehicles ; but it is liable to a sudden influx of the tide. For some reason which does not very clearly appear, John determined to cross the Wash at the Cross Keys, and iu doing so he narrowly escaped the fate of Pharaoh. When his troops had nearly reached the opposite shore, they heard the roar of the rising tide. The king, alarmed, hastened his steps, and succeeded in reaching dry ground ; but on looking back, he saw all the carriages and sumpter-horses which carried his stores and treasure overwhelmed by the waters. The waves dashed and leaped over them, and pre- sently, carriages, horses, and men, all disappeared in the whirlpool caused by the confluence of the tide, and of tlio current of the river 'N^'elland. Giving vent to his rage by curses and complaints, John took his way gloomily to the Abbey of Cistercians at S^vines- head, where he remained for the night. At supper he ate to excess of peaches, or pears, and drank great quantities of new cider. A story was current, some fifty years later, that he was poisoned by the monks, but no allusion is made to it in the accounts of his contemporaries ; and it is equally probable that his death resulted from excess, acting upon a body already fevered by excitement. He was attacked during the night by severe iUness, and on mounting his horse early the next morning, he fouml himself unable to sit upright. A horse-litter was then procured, in which he was conveyed to the neighbouring castle of Sleaford. A burning fever, attended with acute pains, had seized upon him ; and it was with great difficulty that, on the following day, he was carried to the castle of Newark on the Trent. Tiie shadow of coming death now appeared upon his iace, and he desired that a confessor might be sent for. The abbey of Croxton was not far distant, and on receiving the message, the al)bot attended to witness the last moments of the king, and to offer him such consolation as he had to bestow. The chroniclers describe the wretched tyrant as dying in an extremity of agony and remorse. He appointed his eldest son Henry as his successor, and a letter was written under his direction to ITonnrius HI., the newly elected Pope, entreating protection for his cliilivrcn. He caused his ■m CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.u. 1?.lf.. Dover Castle. attendants to swear fealty to Henry, and sent orders to the sheriffs and other royal officers throughout the kingdom to render the prince their obedience. In his last moments, the abbot asked where he desired that his body should be buried, and John replied, " I commit my soul to God, and my body to St. Wulstan." He died on the 18th of October, A.D. 1216, in the forty-ninth year of his age, having reigned seventeen years. His body was conveyed to the cathedral church of Worcester, of which St. Wulstan was the patron saint, and was there buried- A.D. laie.j SOCIETY OF THE MIDDLE AGES. 2S5 The character of John has been shown only too clearly in the records of those miserable years during which he occnpied the throne. It is unquestionable that the very circumstances which entailed so much misery upon the people under his rule, were ultimately of the greatest benefit to the country, and that the cowardice and tyranny of John produced results of fur more importance to the welfare of the English nation than the high military talent and abilitiea of his predecessors. Yet, however highly we may estimate the national blessings which have followed in the train of Magna Charta, we cannot be blind to the CHAPTER Ln, Review of Society In the Middle Ages. The inadequate supply, if not deficiency, of informition respecting the great mass of the people in what are gene- rally known as the Dark Ages, but more properly speaking as the Mediaeval period, has induced many writers to de- scribe those who lived and flourished in them as rude and unenlightened barbarians. Before proceeding in our current history, it may be ad- visable to test the soundness of this opinion, to present oia John's Passage of the Wash. f.ict that, like every other triumph of freedom, it was bought with tears and blood. John, whose character had always been treacherous and cruel, became savage and brutal to an unprecedented degree after this charter had been wrung from him ; and we look in vain for any redeeming feature in his conduct. His vices, in themselves sufficiently exe- crable, are partially hidden from our view by the greater prominence of his crimes, and of these the dark catalogue extends through every year in which he held the reins of power. 23 readers with a picture drawn from records and data on which they may rely, drawn chiefly from the lately pub- lished rolls of the period. The bases on which society rests are undoubtedly leg:il security for person and property, and the possession of a competent degree of wealth. In these two requisites the Mediaeval period has been supposed — erroneously, as we propose to show — to be peculiarly deficient. We have been told that money was so scarce that few persons below the rank of nobles ; possessed aucht beyond the strictly necessary, and that the I life of a peasant was considered, no4 merely by the nobility, 2fi« CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND, Ca.d. 1216. but by the law itself, as scarcely of more value than that of a deer. In many instances such was but too probably the case. The fault, however, did not arise from any defect in the laws, but rather from the inefficient manner in which they were executed; and many exarapl'js are to be found in which crimes against the person were most severely punished. We find in that interesting work, the " Rolls of the King's Courts," which extend from the sixth of Richard to the first of John, that a strict legal inquiry was always made in respect to those who had been found dead in the fields ; and that even in cases where it was found the man perished through want, a verdict of murdrum is returned. This does not mean murder ; it is a technical law term, which involved the payment of a fine by the hundred within which the death took place. The awarding this verdict in cases of death from starvation, is considered by Sir F. Pal- grave as proving the recognition of a legal provision for the poor. The entries in thess rolls supply abundant evidence of the care with which the law watched over the lives of each member of the community, and, what may scarcely be be- lieved, over their property too. The number of lawsuits — and these not for grave offences, or entered into by persons of rank — is most reraaikable and curious. Thomas de la Marc demands damages from Geoffery de la Marc for an injury done to his house by digging a ditch. Wilham the vintner, Henry Basket, and Henry de Tony, are fined for selling wines contrary to the statute. Golling, the son of Stouar 274 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1236. Richard, the earl marshal, who had Bucceeded to that dignity on the death of his brother William, was chased into Wales, from whence he withdrew to Ireland, where he was barbarously murdered by the contrivance of the Bishop of Winchester. The estates of the more obnoxious barons were confiscated without any legal sentence or trial by the peers, and bestowed with profuse liberality upon the Poitevins. Peter had even the insolence to say that the barons of England must not presume to put themselves on an equality with the barons of France, or assume the same liberties and privileges, the king of the former country having a more absolute power than the latter. When the king at any time was checked in his illegal proceedings, and the authority of the Great Charter invoked, he was wont to reply — " Why should I observe this charter, which is violated by all my nobles and prelates ? " On one occasion it was said to him— " You ought, sire, to set them the example." In the opposition of the nobihty, and the discontent of the people, we may trace the slow but gradual growth of civil liberty. True, the struggle for absolute power was frequently renewed, and sometimes with success, but that success was only temporary. The nation never really gave way ; and once more the Church came to the aid of the nation. Edmund, the primate, came to court, attended by many other prelates, and represented to the king the injustice of the measures pursued by Peter des Roches, the discontent and sufferings of the people, the ruin of his affairs, and after demanding the dismission of the obnoxious minister, threatened him with excommunication in the event of a refusal. Henry, who knew that in the event of the primate carry- ing his threat into execution the entire nation would side against him, was compelled to submit ; the foreigners were banished from the kingdom, and the English restored to their places in the council. The primate, who was a prudent man, took care to exe- cute the laws, and observe the charter of hberties. He bore the chief sway in the government. CHAPTER LIV. Continuation of tho Reign of Henry III.— His Courtsliips— Marriage with Eleanor of Provence, During the yeara which preceded the marriage of Henry, much discontent prevailed in England on account of the licavy taxes which continued to be imposed, although the refractory barons were subdued and tlie mercenary troops dismissed. The hostility of the king to the Great Charter, which he had so solemnly confirmed, excited the indignation of the people. The forest charter, for which the nation had paid one-fifteenth on all movables — a proof how eagerly they desired it — was scarcely more respected. The marriage of Henry was negotiated no less than four times with as many difierent princesses, and as frequently broken off. With the last of these ladies, Joanna, daughter of the Earl of Ponthieu, the treaty had proceeded so far that the Pope was applied to for a dispensation, the parties being fourth cousins, when the caprice of the intended bridegroom broke off the match. Hia contract with the Lady Joanna appears to have been regarded by him with no more sense of honour than hia oaths to maintain the charters had been ; and we find him, even before his ambassadors had commenced proceedings at the court of Rome, writing to the Earl of Surrey, soliciting his kind oflices in furthering a marriage with one of the daughters of his brother-in-law, Raymond, Earl of Provence. This letter was written in June, and m July he dispatched instructions to his representatives at Rome, directing them to suspend all negotiations for the present, and at the same time commanding them to observe the most profound secrecy respecting it. In the prosecution of this fifth project of marriage, Henry seems to have used every exertion to ensure success. He wrote letters" both to the father aud mother of his new choice, and sent an embassy, consisting of the Prior of Harle, the Bishops of Ely and Hereford, and Robert de Sandford, master of the Temple, to soUcit the hand of their second daughter, who, although only twelve years of age, was already celebrated on account of her extreme beauty. The house with which the king now sought alUance was, undoubtedly, one of the most illustrious in Europe. Its remote ancestors were the Counts of Barcelona ; but it was by Raymond Berenger, the first earl, or, as he is sometimes called, King of Provence, that the foundation of its greatness was laid. After rendering himself celebrated both as a warrior and a statesman, he died in 1131, and his estates were now governed by his great-grandson, Raymond III. Provence was distinguished very early for the honourable encouragement it gave to literature, especially the art of poetry ; and so generally were her claims to superiority in this respect admitted, that Provenfal became the popular term to distinguish the poetry of the langue d'oc from that of the lan(jue (Tuil. Richly, if we may judge from its effects, did the Counts of Provence recompense the poets of their country ; for so munificent were their gifts to the troubadours who sought their court at Axles, tliat they gradually became impo- verished. The poets have invented a singular legend to accoimt for the subsequent wealth of Raymond. It was the least they could do to recompense him for his extravagant liberaUty in their favour ; and a century later the legend found a place in that receptacle of religious tales and romances known as the " Gesta Romanorvmi." When Raymond, driven to despair by the sight of his empty coffers, was puzzling his brains with schemes for re- fiUing them, a pilgrim, " de/or< io?/ne 7ni?ie," * says the Abbe de Ruffi, to whom we are indebted for the story, came to the palace on his return from a pilgrimage to St. James. This stranger, after partaking the hospitality of the count for some days, inquired into the value of his lands, the state of his finances, and finally offered to free him from every difli- culty in a short time, provided that he was placed in absolute superintendence of all his affairs. To this proposal Raymond readily acceded, and the unknown pilgrim was forthwith placed in supreme authority over the household. And well did the stranger perform his promise : ere long, Raymond * Of a very agreeable appeoranoe. A.D. 1236.] ELEANOR OF PROVENCE. 275 was freed from his embarrassments, and in a few years his coffers overflowed with wealth. But now gratitude began to fade from the fickle mind of the count, and he listened to the suspicious hints of his servants; until, altogether for- getful of the great benefits he hid received at the hin^ls of the unknown pilgrim, he oommaaded him to render up liis accounts. The pilgrim made no objectica ; he exhibited his statements, and proved the integrity of his conduct so fully, that oven hi^ bitterest enemies could not answer a word. He then resumed his staff, scrip, and mantle, and, in despite of every entreaty of the repentant count, disappeared. Long, Btrict, and minute search was made after him, but he was never heard of more. The visit of this friendly pilgrim, we may stippose, was subsequently to Raymond's marriage of his daughter Eleanor, since Matth(^v Paris represents him as an " illustrious and valiant man; but, through continual war.^, almost all he had had vanished from his treasury." The proposal, there- fore, of the King of England was peculiarly gi'ateful, both to Raymond and to his wife, Beatrix of Savoy, whose three brothers looked anxiously, even from the commencement of their niece's marriage treaty, to the broad lauds and rich church preferment which they anticipated they should soon possess in wealthy but ill-governed England. It was, there- fore, with eager joy that the proposal of Henry was accepted by the needy count ; and with equally eager joy, judging from his haste, did the king transmit his instructions for the marriage articles. In these he assigns to Eleanor, as dower, " those cities, lands, and tenements, which it has been cus- tomary for other kings, our predecessors, to assign to other queens." He then proceeds to state, that if Isabel should survive him, and should have recovered her dower, " then liis procurators shall assign to Eleanor these towns ; Gloster, Cambridge, and Huntingdon, and the villages of Wyoh, Basingstoke, Audover, Chiltham, Gumester, Clynes, Kiug- Bton, Ospringe, and Ludingland, to hold meanwhile ; " and after Isabel's death, Eleanor iu that case taking the usual dower, these towns and lands should revert to the king. In respect to Eleanor's portion, which i^ stated to be 20,000 marks, he directs his embassy to agree 'svith the count that the sum shall not be less than that promised ; and in a sub- sequent instrument he grants full power to the procurators to receive it. In the secret instructions which immediately follow, Henry seems to have apprehended, that if he pressed the count for immediate payment of his daughter's portion, he might lose his fifth chance of obtaining a wife. He therefore directs, that if his procurators cannot fulfil his commands to the very letter, they shall, " over and above every power contained in the aforesaid letters, without the payment of the money appropriated for us, in' whatever way ye can, take her with you, and safely and securely bring her to us in England." The youthful princess was accordingly placed in the hands of the ambassadors, and, amidst the rejoicings of the whole kingdom of Provence, she set forth, accompanied by a gallant cavalcade, in which were more than three hundred ladies on horseback. Her route lay through Navarre and France. A romantic trait, illustrating the chivalrous feeling of the age, is recorded by Matthew Paris. The poet king of Navarre, Thibaut VII., whose songs are still remem- l.sred in the land over which he reigned, no sooner heard that the daughter of the minstrel-loving Raymond was to pass through his dominions, than he gallantly summoned a goodly array of men-at-arms, and joyfully made ready to accompany her for five days through his lands, defraying every expense, both for horses and men, although the royal train amounted to many hundreds. When Eleanor arrived on the frontier of France, she received a hospitable welcome from the queen dowager and her son, who a short time previously had married an elder sister of the bride. The marriage train finally reached Dover, from whence it proceeded to Canterbury, where Henry awaited their coming. It was in that ancient city that the union took place, the service being performed by the Archbishop Edmund and the pielstes who accompanied Eleanor. From Canterbury the newly-wedded pair set out for London, attended by a splendid array of nobles, prelates, knights, and ladies. On the 20th of January, being the feast of St. Fabian and St. Sebastian, Eleanor was crowned at Westminster with great splendour. The historian Matthew Paris describes, not only the gal- lant array of the royal procession, but the gorgeous appear- ance which, even at that early period, was made by the city of London, with a minuteness which entitles him to the gratitude of every lover of antiquity : — " There had assembled together so great a number of the nobility of both sexes, so great a number of the religious orders, so great a concourse of the populace, and so great a variety of players, that London could scarcely contain them in her capacious bosom. Therefore was the city adorned with silk hangings, and with banners, crowns, palls, tapera, and lamps, and with certain marvellous ingenuities and devices ; all the streets being cleaned from dirt, mud, sticks, and everything offensive. " The citizens of London going to meet the king and queen, ornamented and trapped and wondrously sported their swift horses ; and on the same day they went from the city to Westminster, that they might discharge the service of butler to the king in his coronation, which ia acknowledged to belong to them of ancient right. " They went iu well marshalled array, adorned in silken vestments, wrapped in gold-woven mantles, with fancifully devised garments, sitting on valuable horses, refulgent with new bits and saddles : and they bore three hundred and sixty gold and silver cups, the king's trumpeters going before and sounding their trumpets ; so that so wonderful a novelty produced a laudable astonishment in the spec^ tators." The worthy monk of St. Albans dilates with great gusto upon the splendour of the feast, and the order of the service of the difierent vassals of the crown, many of whom are called upon at a coronation to perform certain peculiar services down to the present day. He also remarks, with great complacency, that the abbot of his own convent took precedence of every other abbot in England at the dinner. The following further and probably more accurate account is extracted from the city records. They are deeply interest- ing, as offering the earliest account of the ceremonies used at the coronation of a queen consort of England. " In the twentieth year of the reign of King Henry, son of King John, Queen Eleanor, daughter of the Earl of Pro- vence, was crowned at Westminster, on the Sunday before the Purification, the king wearing his crown, and the bishops assisting. And these served iu order in that most elegant and uuheard-of feast: — The Bishop of Chichester, the chancellor, with the cup of orecious stones, which was 276 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.I). 1236. one of the ancieot regalia of the king, clothed in his pontifi- cals, preceded the king, who was clad in royal attire, and wearing the crown. Hugh de PateshaU walked before with the patine, clothed in a dalmatica ; and the Earls of Chester, Lincoln, and Warren, bearing the swords, preceded him. But the two renowned knights. Sir Richard Siward and Sir Nicholas de Molis, carried the two royal sceptres before the king ; and the square purple cloth of silk, which was supported upon four silver lances, with four little bells of silver gUt, held over the king wherever he walked, was car- whatever church the king was crowned ; and all that was tvithout the church was distributed among the poor, by the hands of WiUiam €he almoner. " At the king's table, on the right hand of the king, sat the archbishops, bishops, and certain abbots, who wished to be privileged at table ; and on the left hand sat the earls, and some barons, although very few; but none claimed their seats by any right. And on that day the office of seneschal was served by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, to whom the office by right belonged ; and the office of the Henry III. ried by the barons of the cinque ports ; four being assigned to each lance, from the diversity of ports, that one port should not seem to be preferred before the other. The same in like manner bore a cloth of silk over the queen, walking behind the king, which said cloths they claimed to be theirs by right, and obtained them. And William de Beauchamp of Bedford, who had the office of almoner from times of old, found the striped cloth or burel, which was laid down under Ihe king's feet as he went from the hall as far as the pulpit of the church of Westminster ; and that part of the cloth that was within the church always fell to the seston, in napery was that day served by Henry of Hastings, whoso right it was of old to serve. " Walter de Beauchamp, of Hammerlegh, laid the salt- cellar and the knives, and, after the banquet was at an end, received them as his fee. " The Earl Warren served the office of butler in the ste.id of Hugh de Albiniac, Earl of Aronaei ; and under him was Michael Belot, whose right it was. as secondary, to hold the cup well replenished with wine to tbe Earl of Arundel,, to be presented by that nobleman to the "king when he might require it. Andrew Benfeerei, wno served the office of A.D. Ii236.1 JIARRIAGE OF HENET HI. 277 Banquet at the Marriage of Henry III. and Eleanor of Provence. Mayor of London from 1231 to 1237, was at Westminster to sorvo in the butlery, witli tlie 360 gold and sUver cups, because the city of London is bold to be the assistant to the chief butler, as the city of Winchester is represented in tho Bame way in the kitchen to assist the high steward. " The mayor, it seems, claimed Michael Belot's place of 24 standing before the king, but was repulsed by Hemy, who decided that the former should serve him. " After the banquet the earl butler had the king's cup as his fee, and his assistant the earl's robe as his right. "William de Beauchamp that day served the office of almoner, and had entire jurisdiction relative to the disputes CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1243. and offences of the poor and lepers : so that, if one leper struck another with :>. knife, hs could adjudge him to be burnt. " After th3 banquet was finished, he received, as his right, the sUver dish for alms that stood before the king ; and he claimed to have one tun of wine in right of alms ; and on that day the great chamberlain served the water, as well before r.s after the banquet — namely, Hugh de Vere, Earl of Oxford ; and he received, as his right, the basins and the towels wherewith he served. GUbert, earl marshal. Earl of Strigul, served the office of the marshalsea ; and it was his duty to appease tumults in the king's house, to give Uveries to them, and to guard the entraaces to the king's hall ; and he received from every baron who was knigiited by the king, and from every earl on that day, a palfrey with a saddle. The head cook of the royal kitchen always, at the coronation, received the steward's robe as his right ; and of the aforesaid offices none claimed to themselves the right in the queen's house, except G. de Stamford, who said that he, in right of his predecessors, ought to be chamberlain to the queen, and door-keeper of her chamber on that day, which ho there obtained ; aud had, as his right, all the queen's furniture, as belonged to the office of chamberlain. . . . And the cloth which hung behind the kiug at table was claimed on the one side by the door-keepers, aud on the other by the scullions, for themselves." Such were the ceremonies which graced the marriage of Henry and Eleanor of Provence. No sooner had the union been celebrated than the in- dignant father of Joanna of Ponthieij, feeling keenly the insult offered to his child, applied to the Roman Pontiff for his interference, well knowing that it was the only authority before which Henry bowed. Fortunately for the newly-married pair, the Pope thought fit to take a very different view of his crowned vassal's falsehood. Gregory rejoiced to see him allied to a family which had given such unequivocal marks of attachment to the holy see. He therefore addressed a bull to the Arch- bishop of Canterbury, and another to the Prior of Beverley, expressing his approbation of the union, " seeing," as the document ran, " that the proposed marriage of the king and Joanna being within the fourth degree of consan- guinity, the king could not, without injury to his fame and peril to his soul, be permitted to contract it." The king found a party far more difficult to manage than the holy see in his barons; for having summoned a parlia- ment to assemble at the Tower, they unanimously refuse 1 to attend, alleging as a reason that, surrounded as the king was with foreigu and inimical counsellors, they could not with safety trust themselves in so strong and well- garrisoned a fortress. This excuse marks not only the great unpopularity of Henry, but the utter contempt into which his character for good faith had fallen. It was in vain that ho alternately threatened and remonstrated— the barons continued firm; and prudsuce prevailing over his self-will, lie was obliged to yield the point, and, returning to his palace at Westminster, hold the parliament there. Never did ths Church of Rome proceed with so little prudence, show such an ultor disregard of everything like justice, as during the reign of the obsequious Henry. The Pontiflf, net cDntent with the enormous sums of money which, under various {itetences, he had drained from the kingdom, had the modesty to demand that 300 Italians should be preferred to English benefices. In vain did the primate, Edmund Rich, ArchlHshop of Canterbury, protest against the iniquitous measure ; his patriotism called forth the resentment both of the king and the Pope. Wearied with the contest, he retired at last, a voluntary exile, to Pontemac, where he died. Never was a system calculated to alienate the affections of a people from the Church more perseveringly pursued than by the court of Rome ; it was that of the leech draining the life-blood of the nation on which it had fastened. Men began to question an infaUibiUty which manifested itself only in acts of injustice and oppression. In the imiversal condemnation of the grasping poUcy of the Pontiff, the seeds were sown which slowly but steadily ripened iu the hearts of aU who possessed the least gense of dignity and national independence. Little, however, did Henry heed the growing disaffection of his subjects, exulting in the protection of the holy see, which found in him a vassal worthy of her pretensions. Ha fasted both during Lent and on every Satui'day through- out the year, and feasted right royally both at Easter and Christmas ; keeping the festival of St. Edward most re- ligiously, passing the whole night in the church, clothed in white. But these observances could neither fill his exhausted exchequer nor oonciUate the goodwill of the nation. The people murmured, the nobles were loud in their complaints ; but Henry pertinaciously adhered to his foreign counsellors, and invited over many of the queen's relations, on whom he conferred both estates and benefices. In 1243, we find in the " Foedera " a charter respecting Eleanor's dower, from which it appears that the appropriated dower of the Queens of England was not even at this period assigned her. Iu this she is assigned the town and castle of Gloucester, the cities of Worcester and Bath, the manors of Clyne and Chiltham ; and instead of the manors assigned by the first charter, the w'nole county of Chester, together with New- castle-under-Lyme, is granted. This year Eleanor's mother visited England, for the purpose of bringing Sonchia, her third daughter, who was affianced to the king's brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall. The marriage was celebrated vrith much splendour ; tha king directing that the whole way from London Bridge tD Westminster should be hung with tapestry and other ornaments. This seems to prove that comparatively little vacant space could have extended between London and Westminster. On this occasion Henry confirmed to his brother the county of Cornwall, together with the honours of Walling- ford and Eye. lie also made splendid presents to the bride and her mother ; and bestowed on Peter of Savoy, the queen's maternal uncle, the honour of the Eagle, and the titles and estates of the Earl of Richmond, and on hia brother the archbishopric of Canterbury. But while Henry thus lavished gifts on his queen's relations, he duly, according to orthodox practice, mulcted the unfortunate Jews. During the same year writs were forwarded to the sheriffs of each county, directing them to return before Henry at Worcester, upon Quiuquagesimiv Sunday, the names of six of the richest Jews from each A.D. 1247.] OPPRESSION OP THE JEWS. large town, and two from every small one, " to treat witli him for their mntual benefit." What a mockery and ecom for the once cliosea people of tlie enrth ! This assembly, which has been called the Jews' parliament, soon cliscovered that the monarch's caro for his own henefit absorbed aU consideration for theirs. Ho informed tliem that they must raiso him no less a sum th.iu 20,000 marks, not less than £200,000 at the present value of money. Wlien tlio Jews expressed tlieir astonishment at the enormous amount demanded, all liberty of remonstrance or discussion was denied them ; they wcro told to return to their homos again, and have one-half of the sum re- quired ready by Midsummer, and tho remaining half by Michaelmas. TJie account of this iniquitous act of opi>ression is taken from Dr. Tovey's "Judaica Anglia," and is but one of many instances of tlio cruel rapacity exorcised on this un- fortunate raeo. As, during tho same year, Rajrmond, the queen's father, received a gratiScatiou of 4,000 marks, there is little doubt but a portion of the spoil obtained so dishonestly enabled the king to gratify the avarice of his father-in- law. In his oppression of tho Jews Henry resembled his father. On two occasions during his reign the absurd charge of crucifying a Christian child was brought against tbem ; and so strongly were the superstitious feelings of the nation excited, that many of the richest Israelites fled, when, as a matter of course, the king seized all their pro- perty. In Lincoln eighty of the wealthiest Jews were hanged, and sixty-three sent prisoners to the Tower, to undergo a similar fate. Several appear to have been marked out for particular spoliation. Aaron of York, whom Scott doubtless had in view when he wrote "Ivanhoe," declared to Matthew Paris that no less than 30,000 marks had been extorted from him in seven years, besides a gift of 200 to the queen. Towards London the hostility of Henry was strongly marked, and on various "right royal" pretexts he griev- ously mulcted the citizens; while his cruel execution of Constantino Fitz-Arnulph, whose only crime seems to have been opposition to the overbearing conduct of the Abbot of Westminster, encouraged an equal hostility in the hearts of the citizens; and from henceforward they de- terminedly took their place in the ranks of the king's enemies. The whole account may be seen in Stow ; and when we read that this unfortunate citizen offered 15,000 marks for his life, we have strong proof of Henry's hatred to London, which could urge so mercenary and so needy a monarch to reject such a ransom. Ere long, the citizens obtained a marked triumph. The king, reduced almost to beggary by the swarms of foreign adventurers who grew rich upon his bounty, was com- pelled CO pledge the crown jewels. In vain did he offer them to wealthy noble, or rich Italian merchant; none could buy : it was the citizens of London who paid down the" stipulated sum; and Henry saw the crown jewels pass into the hands of these, the most detested of his subjects. Matthew Paris laas left us a singular account of a cere- mony which took place in 1247, when Henry received from the patriarch of Jerusalem a relic which he accepted with xmqucstioned faith. Tho gift consisted of a portion of the blood of Christ. On its arrival, tho king commanded all tho clergy of London and Westminster to attend with crosses, I)anners, and tapers at St. Paul's, where he himself repaired, and taking from the treasury tho crystal vase which contained tho supposed treasure, " vrith all honour, reverence, and fear, bore it upon its stand, walking on foot, in mean attire — that is to say, in a cloak made of coarse cloth, without a hood — to the church of Westminster. " The pious monarch," continues the chronicler, " did not cease to carry it in both hands, through all the rugged and miry way, keeping his eyes constantly fi.xed upon it, or elevating it devoutly towards heaven." The scene was worthy of tho actor and the superstitious credulity of the age in which it occurred. Henry, however, had a canopy held over him, supported by four lances ; and an attendant on either hand, guiding him by the arms, lest he should stumble. When he arrived at Westminster, he was met by the whole convent at the church door ; but not even then did the king relinquish his precious burden : he went round the church, the chapels, and the adjoining court, and at length presented the vase and its contents " to God and the church of St. Peter." Mass was then sung ; and the Bishop of Norwich, ascending the pulpit, delivered a sermon to the people, extolling the value of the relic, laudiug the great devotion of the king, and anathematising all those who hinted doubts of its reaUty — a forcible proof that, even at this early day, our forefathers did not believe all that was told them. This memorable day was closed by the king's feasting sump- tuously, and conferring knighthood on his half-brother, Wdham de Valence; and the well-i^leased monk of St. Albans, who was present, records the gratifying circum- stance that Henry, seeing him, caUed him, and prayed him " expressly and fully to record all these things in a well- written book." Nor did this instance of royal condescen- sion fail of its intended effect : the whole account is written in a strain of courtesy which contrasts curiously enough with the plain speaking of the rest of the volume ; and these two pages stand out from the rest of the text hke a laureate's birthday ode. CHAPTER LV. Continuation of the Reign of Henry III.— Furtlier Exactions of tlia Churcli of Rome — Affairs of Siciiy — Rebellion of Simon de Montfort. Henry's bounty and profuse liberality to his foreign rela- tions, his friends and favourites, might have appeared less intolerable to his subjects had anything been done for the honour of the nation. But the crown was so utterly sub- servient to the see of Rome, that it fell into contempt and well-deserved hatred. The regal vassal appeared to have no will but the Pontifif's, who was not slow to abuse his weakness. It is true that the king, in 1242, declared war against Louis IX. of France, and undertook an expedition into Guienne at the earnest solicitation of tho Count de la Marche, who promised to support him with all his force. He was unsuccessful in his attempts against that great monarch, was worsted at Taillebourg, was deserted by his allies, lost what remained to him of Poitou, and was obliged to return, with loss of honour, ipto England. Th? 280 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1247. Gascon nobility were attached to the Eaglish government, because the distance of their sovereign allowed them to reiiiaiu in a state of almost total independence ; and they claimed, some time after, Ilenry's protection against au invasion which the King of Castile made upon that territory. Henry returned into Uuienae, and was more successful in this expedition, but he thereby involved himself and his nobility in an enormous debt, which both increased their discontenls and exnojod him to greater danger from their euturprises. Wuiit of economy and an ili-judged liberality were Henry':; great defects ; and his debts, even before this ex- pedition, had become so troublesome, that he sold all his plate and jewels, in order to discharge them. When this expedreut was first proposed to him, he asked where he should find purchasers. It was replied, " The citizens of Loudon." "On my word," said he, "if the treasury of Augustus were brought to sale, the citizens are able to be the purchasers: these clowns, who assume to themselves the name of barons, abound in everything, while we are reduced to necessaries." And he was thenceforth observed to be more forward aud greedy in his exactions upon the citizens. But the grievances which the English during this reign had reason to complain of in tlie civil government, seemed to have been still less burthensome than those which they suffered from usurpations and exactions of the court of Rome. Oa the death of Laugton in 1238, the monks of Christ Church elected Walter de Hemesham, one of their own body, for liis successor. But as Henry refused to confirm the election, the Pope, at hi^ desire, annulled it, and immediately appointed Richard, Chancellor of Lincoln, for archbishop, without waiting for a new election. On the death of Richard in 1231, the monks elected Ralph de Neville, Bishop of Chichester; and though Henvy was much pleased with the election, the Pope, who thought that prelate too much attached to the crown, assumed the power of annulling his election. He rejected two clergymen more, whom the monks had successively chosen ; and he at last told them that if they would elect Edmund, treasurer of the church of Salisbury, he would confirm their choice, and his nomination was complied with. The Pope had the prudence to appoint both times very worthy primates ; but men could not forbear observing his intention of thus drawing gradually to himself the right of bestowing that important dignity. The avarice, however, more tlian the ambition of the See of Rome seems to have been in this age the ground of general ' complaint. The p.ipal ministers, finding a vast stock of' power amassed by their predecessors, were desirous of turn- ing it to immediate profit, which they enjoyed at home, rather than of enlarging their authority in distant coun- tries, where the;,- aever intended to reside. Everything was become venal in the Romish tribunals: simony was openly practised; no favours, and even no justice could bo obtained ivithout a briljc ; the highest bidder was sure to liave the prefer>"nce, -without regard either to the merits of the person or of the caiise ; and besides tho usual perver- sions of right in the decision of controversies, tlie Pope cpjuly assumed au absolute and uncontrolled authority of seti^iug aside, by tho plenitude of his apostolic power, all particular rule, and all privileges of patrons, churches, and convents. On pveteuco of remedying these abuses, Pope Honorius, in 1226, complaining of the poverty of bis see as the source of all grievances, demanded from every cathedral two of tho best prebends, and from every convent two monks' portions, to be sot apart as a perpetual and settled revenue of the papal crown. Bnt all men being sensible that the revenue would continue for ever, tho abuses immo- djately return, his demand was imanimously rejected. About three years after, the Pope demanded and obtained the tenth of all ecclesiastical revenues, which he leided in a very oppressive manner, ro([umug pajonent before tho clergy had cbawu their rent or tithes, and sendiiig about usurers, who advanced them tho money at exorbitant in- terest. In the year 1240, Otho, the legate, ha-idng in vain attempted the clergy in a body, obtained separately, by intrigues and menaces, largo sums from tho convents aud prelates ; and on his departure is saicHo have carried more money out of the kingdom than he left in it. This experiment was renewed four years afterwards lij Martin, the legate, who brought from Rome full powers of suspending and excommunicating all priests who refused compliance with his demands ; aud the king, who relied on him for support to his tottering authority, never failed to support those exactions. JMean while, all the chief benefices of the kingdom were conferred on Italians. Great numbers of that nation were sent over at one time to be provided for ; non-residonco and pluralities were carried to an enormous height. Mansel, the king's chaplain, is computed to have held at once 700 eccle- siastical livings ; and tlie abuses became so evident as to be palpable to the blindness of superstition itself. The people, entering into associations, rose against the ItaUan clergy, pillaged their barns, wasted their lands, insulted the persons of such of them as they found in the kingdom ; and when the justices made inquiry into the authors of this disorder, the guilt was fouud to involve so many, and those of such high rank, that it passed unpunish.ed. At last, when Inno- cent IV., in 1245, called a general council at Lyons, in order to excommunicate the Emperor Frederic, the king and nobility sent over agents to complain before the councU of the rapacity of the Romish Church. They represented, among many other grievances, that the benefices of the ItaUan clergy in England had been estimated, and were found to amount to 60,000 marks a year — a sum which exceeded the annual revenue of the Crown itself. They obtained only an evasive answer from the Pope ; but as mention had been made before the council of the feudal subjection of England to the See of Rome, the English agents, at whose head was Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, exclaimed against the pretension, and insisted that Iviug John had no right, without the consent of his barons, to subject the kingdom to so ignominious a servitude. The Popes, indeed, afraid of carrying matters too far against England, seem thenceforth to have little insisted on that pretension. This chock, received at the council of Lyons, was not able to stop tho court of Rome in its rapacity. Innocent exacted tho revenues of all vacant beuefioes ; the tvrentieth of aJl ecclesiastical revenues without exception ; the third of such as exceeded 100 marks a year, aud the half t f such as were possessed by non-residents. Ho claimed tho goods of all intestate clergymen ; he pretended a. title '< o inhi'rit all money gotten by usmy ; ho levied benevolence,-; upon the people ; and when the king, contraiy to Lis usual A.D. 1253.] THE EA-RL OF CORNWALL. 281 practice, prohibited these exactions, he threatened to pro- nounce against him the same censures which he had emitted against the Emperor Frederic. But the most oppressive expedient employed by the Pope was the embarking of Henry in a project for the conquest of Naples, or Sicily on this side the Faro, as it was called — an enterprise which threw much dishonour on the king, and involved him during some years in great trouble and ex- pense. The Romish Church, taking advantage of favourable incidents, had reduced the kingdom of Sicily to the same state of feudal vassalage which she pretended to extend over England, and which, by reason of the distance, as well as high spirit of this latter kingdom, she was not able to main- tain. j\fter the death of the Emperor Frederic n., the succession of Sicily devolved on Conrad I., grandson of that monarch, whose natural son, Maiufroy, under pretence of governing the kingdom during the minority of the young prince, had formed the ambitious scheme of obtaining the crown himself. Pope Innocent, who had carried on violent war against the emperor, and desired nothing more ardently than to deprive him of his Italian dominions, still continued hostili- ties against his successor. He pretended to dispose of the crown of Italy, not only as its temporal lord, but by right of his office as Christ's vicar ; and he tendered it to the Earl of Cornwall, whose immense wealth, he flattered him- Belf, would enable him to carry on the war successfully against Mainfroy. Henry, tempted by bo magnificent an offer, accepted the insidious proposal, without consulting either his brother or the Parliament, and gave the Pontiff unlimited credit to expend whatever money ho thought necessary for the sub- jugation of that kingdom. The conseiiuence was, that he found himself speedily involved in an immense debt, amount- ing to 135,5-11 marks. In this dUemraa, unwilling to retreat, the king summoned a Parliament to grant him supplies, but omitted sending writs to the refractory barons ; yet even those who attended were so sensible of the audacious cheat, that they refused to take his demands into consideration. In this extremity the clergy were hia only resource. The Pope, to aid him, published a crusade against Main- froy. He leased a tenth of all the ecclesiastical benefices in England ; granted Henry the goods of all churchmen who died intestate, and the revenues of ancient benefices. But these taxations, iniquitoas as they undoubtedly were, were deemed less objectionable than another imposition, suggested by the Bishop of Hereford, and which might have opened the door to endless abuses. This prelate, who resided at the court of Rome by deputa- tion from the English Church, drew bills of different values, bat amounting on the whole to 150,510 marks, on all the bishops and abbots of the kingdom ; and granted these bills to Italian merchants, who, it was pretended, had advanced money for the service of the war against Mainfroy. As mere was no likelihood of the English prelates submitting without compulsion to such an extraordinary demand, Kus- taud, the legate, was charged with the commission of em- ploying authority for that purpose ; and he summoned an assembly of the bishops and abbots, whom he acquainted with the pleasure of the Pope and of the king. Great were the surprise and indignation of the assembly : the Bishop of Worcester exclaimed that he would lose his life rather than comply ; the Bishop of London said that the Pope and king were more powerful than he, but if his mitre were taken off his head, he would clap on a helmet in its place. The legate was no less violent on the other hand ; and he told the assembly, in plain terms, that all ecclesiastical benefices were the property of the Pope, and he might dispose of them, cither in whole or in part, as he saw proper. In the end, the bishops and abbots, being threatened with excommuni- cation, which made all their revenues fall into the king's hands, wore obliged to submit to the exaction ; and the only mitigation which the legate allowed them was, that the tenths already granted should be accepted as a partial pay- ment of the bills. But the money was stUl insufficient for the Pope's purpose ; the conquest of Sicily was as remote as ever. The demands which came from Rome were endless. Pope Alexander became so urgent a creditor, that he sent over a legate to England, threatening the kingdom wl:h an interdict, and the king with excommunication, if the arrears which he pretended to be due to him were not instantly remitted ; and at last Henry, sensible of the cheat, began to think of breaking off the agreement, and of resigning into the Pope's hands that crown which it was not intended by Alexander that he or his family should ever enjoy. The Earl of Cornwall had now reason to value himself on his foresight in refusing the fraudulent bargain with Rome, and in preferring the soliil honours of an opulent and power- ful prince of the blood of England, to the empty and pre- carious glory of a foreign dignity. But he had not always firmness sufficient to adhere to this resolution : his vanity and ambition prevailed at last over his prudence and his avarice ; and he was engaged in an enterprise no less exten- sive and vexatious than that of his brother, and not attended with much greater probability of success. The immense opulence of Richard having made the German princes cast their eye on him as a candidate for the empire, he wa3 tempted to expend vast sums of money on his election ; and he succeeded so far as to be chosen King of the Romans, which seemed to render his succession infallible to the impe- rial throne. He went over to Germany, and carried out of the kingdom no less a sum than 700,000 marks, if we may credit the account given by some ancient authors, which is probably much exaggerated. His money, while it lasted, procured him friends and partisans ; but it was soon drained from him by the avidity of the German princes ; and having no personal or family connections in that country, and no solid foundation of power, he found at last that he had lavished away the frugality of a whole life in order to pro- cure a splendid title; and that his absence from England, joined to the weakness of his brother's government, gave occasion to the barons once more to revolt, and involved his native country and family in great calamities. The successful revolt of the nobles in the reign of King John, and their imposing on him and his successors a limit to tlie royal power, had made them feci their weight and importance in the state. This triumph, followed as it was by a long minority, had weakened as well as impoverished the crown. In Henry's situation, either great abilities and vigour were necessary to overawe the nobility, or great prudence of conduct to avoid giving them just grounds of complaint. Unfortunately, he possessed neither of these qualities, having neither prudence to choose right measures, nor thai; con- stancy of purpose which sometimes ensures success to wrong. 282 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1253. He was entirely devoted to Ms unworthy favourites, who were always foreigners ; and upon these he lavished without discretion his diminished resources. Henry, finding that the barons indiilged in the most un- bridled tyi-anny towards their o wa vassals, without observing the laws they had imposed upon the crown, unhesitatingly followed the evil example set before him. In his adminis- tration the Great Charter was continually violated — a course of conduct which not only lessened his authority in the kingdom, but multiplied the sources of discontent against Mm, exposed him to affronts and even dangers, and pro- voked resistance to his rcmainiug prerogatives. an impost which was expressly provided for by their feudal tenm'es. Four years afterwards, in full parliament, he was openly reproached for his broken word on having again violated his promises, and asked if he did not blush to desire aid from his people — whom he openly professed to despise and hate, ; and to whom he on all occasions preferred strangers and [ aliens — from a people who groaned under the exactions which ho either exercised over them or permitted others to inflict. He was told that, in addition to insulting his nobility, by forcing them to contract unequal marriages with foreigners, no class of his subjects was too obscure to The Battle of TaiUebourg. Matthew Paris relates that, in 1244, when ho desired a .•supply from parliament, the barons, complainiug of the fre- quent violations of the Charter, demanded that in return for the money, he should resign the right of nomiuatiug the chancellor and great justiciary of the kingdom to them ; and, if we may credit the same historian, they had formed further plans which, if successfully carried out, would have reduced the crown to a state of pupilage and dependence. The king, however, woidd consent to nothing but a renewal of the Great Charter, and a general permission to excom- inunicate all who might hereafter violate it. All he coidd obtain in return for his concession was a scutage of twenty shilUngs on each knight's fee for the mar- riage of his eldest daughter with the King of Scotland — escape the tyranny of himself and his ministers ; that oven the food ho consumed in his household, the clothes which himself and his servants wore, and the wine they di-ank, were all taken by violence from their lawful owners, and no kind of compensation ever oilorcd ; that foreign merchants, to the shame of the kiugdom, shimned the English harbours as if they were infested by pirates ; and that all commerce was being gradually destroyed by those acts of unprincipled violence. Unhappily, this was no exaggerated picture. In his reckless proceedings Henry even added insult to injmy, by foi'cing the traders whom he despoiled of their goods to carry them at their own expense to whatever place he choso to appoint. Even the poor fishermen could not escape Ms A.D. 1^53.] DENUNCIATION BY THE BISHOPS. 283 281 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1253. rapacity and that of his foreign favourites, till, finding they could not dispose of the fruit of their labours at home, they c:.i'i'ied them to foreign ports. The king, says Matthew Paris, gave the parliament only good words and fair promises in answer to these remon- strances, aooompauied with the most humble submissions, which they had too often found deceitful to be gulled by ; the conseouence was, that they unanimously refused the supply he asked, to the great disappointment of his rapa- cious favourites. In 1253, he again found himself obliged to apply to par- liament, which he did under pretence of having made a vow to undertake a crusade. The parliament hesitated to comply, and the ecclesiastical order sent a deputation to Henry, consisting of four prelates — the primate, and the Bishops of Winchester, Salisbury, and Carlisle — to remonstrate with him on his frequent violation of their privileges, the oppressions with which he had loaded them as well as the rest of his subjects, and the uncanouical and forced elections made to the vacant dignities in the Church. " It is true,'' replied the king, " I have been some- what faulty in this particular : I obtruded you, my lord of Canterbury, on your see ; I was obliged to employ both tntreaties and menaces, my lord of Winchester, to have you elected ; my proceedings, I confess, were very irregular, my lords of Salisbury and Carlisle, when I raised you from the lowest stations to your present dignities. I am determined henceforth to correct these abuses ; and it will also become you, in order to make a thorough reformation, to resign your present benefices, and try to 'enter again in a more tegular and canonical manner." The bishops, surprised at these unexpected sarcasms, replied that the question was not at present how to correct past errors, bub to avoid them for the future. The king promised redress, both of eccle- siastical and civil grievances ; and the parliament in return agreed to grant him a supply, a tenth of the ecclesiastical benefices, and a scutage of three marks on each knight's fee ; but as they had experienced his frequent breach of pro- mise, they required that he shoulii ratify the great charter in a manner still more authentic and moi-e solemn than any which he had hitherto employed. All the prelates and abbots were assembled ; they held burning tapers in their hands ; the great charter was read before them ; they de- nounced the sentence of excommunication against every one who should thenceforth violate the fundamental law ; they threw their tapers on the ground, and exclaimed, " May the soul of every one who incurs this sentence so stink and cor- rupt in hell !" Tiie king bore a part in this ceremony, and subjoined, " So help me God, I will keep all these articles inviolate, as I am a man, as I am a Christian, as I am a knight, and as 1 am a king crowned and anointed." Yet was the tremendous ceremony no sooner finished, than his favourites, abusing his weakness, made him return to the same arbitrary and irregular administration, and the expec- tations and hopes of the nation were again eluded and disap- pointed. The universal discontent which ensued afforded a pretext to Simon de Montfcrt, Earl of Leicester, to attempt, by means of a revolution, to wrest the sceptre from the feeble and irresolute hands which held it. This powerful noble was the younger son of that Simon de Montfort who dis- played so much skill and courage in the crusade agaiu^.t the unfortunate Albigenses, but who tarnished his fame by the most execrable cruelty ; for the history of reUgious per- secution does not present a darksr page than the one in which the sufferings of the Albigenses is recorded. It was a short-sighted policy which induced the Church of Rome to draw tbe sword against these aeceders from her pale. The blood of the martyrs for conscience' sake never sinks into the soil like barren seed ; it is sure to germinate and bring forth fruit in time, and ho vrho sheds it is doomed to the contempt and execration of mankind. A large inheritance in Britain had fallen to the victorious crusader, whose eldest son, imable to perform fealty to the Kings of France and England, had transferred it to his younger brother Simon, who came over and did homage for his lands, and the title of Earl of Leicester. In 1238 he married Eleanor, the king's sister, the widow of William, Earl of Pembroke ; but the union of the princess with a subject and a foreigner, though contracted with Henry's consent, was loudly complained of, not only by the Earl of Cornwall, but most of the English barons. The briJegroom, however, was protected against their violence by his brother-in-law, who little imagined the ungrateful return he would meet with. No sooner had Leicester succeeded in establishing him- self in his new possessions and dignities, than he acquired, by insinuation and address, great popularity and influence with the nation, gaining the aft'ectious of all orders of men — a circumstance which lost hinj the friendship of the feeble monarch, who first banished him from court, then weakly recalled him, and finally, to rid himself of his jjreseuce, entrusted him with the government of Guienne, where, to do the earl justice, he did good service, and acquired great honour. Instead of being rewarded, as he had every reason to ex- pect, he was once more exiled. Henry called Lira a traitor to his face ; on which the haughty noble gave him the lie, and told him that, if he were not his sovereign, he would soon make him repent the insuU. This second quarrel was, however, accommodated, either through the good nature or fear of Henry, and the offender admitted once more to some share of favour and authority. With all his defects, Leicester appears to have been of too noble and independent a nature to observe a compliance with liis brother-in-law's capricious humours, or to act in Gubserviency to his minions. Perhaps ho found it more to his advantage to cultivate the good opinion of the people, and to inflame the general discontent against the \vi'etched administration of the kingdom. He filled every place with his complaints against the violations of the great charter, the acts of violence committed on the people, the iniquitous combination between the Pope and the king in their mutual acts of tyranny and extortion, and the neglect (shown to his native subjcects and barons by Henry. In this last complaint, altliough a foreigner himself, he was more zealous than any other noble in the realm, in representing the indignity of submitting to be governed by strangers. By hypocritical and politic pretensions to devotion, he succeeded in obtaining the favour of the clergy, whilst, at the same time, he secured the aft'ections of the people. He carefully cultivated the friendship of the barons by pretending an animosity against the favourites, which animosity served as the basis of union between hio- seLf and that powerful order. A vioient quarrel -whicli broke out between Leicester and 1258.1 SIMON DE MONTFORT. 285 \Villiam de Valence, Henry's half-brother and chief favourite, brought matters to extremity, and determined the former ! to give full scope to his long-cherishcJ schemes of ambition, which the laws and the royal authority had hitherto with no little diificulty estrained. He secrstiy called an assembly of the most powerful nobles, jsai'ticulariy Humphrey of Hereford, high constable ; lloger of Norfolk, carl marshal ; and the Earls of Warwick and Glouci;ter— men who, by tlieir exalttd rank and im- mense possessions, stood &v6t in the rank of English nobility. To this assembly he exposed the necessity of reforming tlie state, and entrusting the e.Keoution of the laws to other hands than those which had proved themselves, by bitter experience, so totally unfitted for the charge confided to them. lu his harangue he did not forget to inveigh against the oppression exercised against the lower orders, or ex- aggerate on the violations of the privileges of the barons, and the depredations committed ou the clergy ; and, in order ,to aggravate the enormity of his brother-in-law's conduct, he appealed to the great charter, which Henry had so often sworn to maintain and so frequently violated. This violation, he urged, with great show of justice, of privileges which their ancestors had wrung from the crown by an enormous sacrifice of blood and treasure, ought not to be endured, unless they were prepared to set the seal upon their own degeneracy by permitting such important advantages to bo torn from them by a weak prince and his insolent foreign favourites. To all suggestions of a re- monstrance the speaker replied by observing that the king's word had been too freqwently broken, although confirmed by oaths, ever again to be relied upon, and that nothing short of his being placed in a position of utter inability to violate the national privileges could henceforth ensure the regular observance of them. These complaints, which were founded in truth, accorded so entirely with the sentiments of the assembly, that they produced the desired efieot, and the barons pledged them- selves to a resolution of reducing the public grievances, by taking into their own hands the administration of the kingdom. Henry having summoned a parliament, in expectation of receiving supplies for his Sicilian project, the barons ap- peared in the hall, clad in complete armour, and with their swords by their side. The king, on his entry, struck with the unusual appearance, asked them what wiis thtir purpose, and whether they intended to make him their prisoner. Roger Bigod replied, in the name of the rest, that he was not their prisoner, but their sovereign ; that they even in- tended to grant him large supplies, in order to fix his son on the throne of Sicily ; that they only expected some return for this expense and service ; and that, as he had frequently made submissions to the parliament, had acknowledged his past errors, and still allowed himself to be carried into the same path, which gave them such just reason of complaint, he must now yield to more strict regulations, and confer authority on those who were able and willing to redress the national grievances. Ksury, partly allured by the hopes of supply, partly intimidated by the union and martial appearance of the barons, agreed to their demand ; and promised to summon another parliament at Oxford, in order to digest tl;:; new plan of government, and to elect the persons wko were to be entrusted with the chief authority. This parliament, which the royalists, and evea the nation, from experience of the confusions that attended its measures, afterwards denominated the mad parliament, met on the day appointed ; and as all the barons brought along with them their military vassals, and appeared with an armed force, the king, who had taken no precautic:;s against tho:u, was in reahty a prisoner in their hands, and vras obliged to submit to all the terms which they were pleased to impose upon him. Twelve barons were selected from among the king's ministers, twelve more were chosen by parliament : to these twenty -four, unlimited authority was granted to reform the state ; and the king himself took an oath that he wotild maintain whatever ordinances they should think proper to enact for that purpose. Leicester was at the head of this supreme council, to which the legislative power was thus in reality transferred ; and all their measures were taken by his secret influence and direction. The first step bore a specious appearance, and seemed well calculated for the end which they professed to be the object of all these ! innovations : they ordered that four knights should lio chosen by each county ; that they should make inquiry into the grievances of which their neighbourhood had reason to complain, and should attend the ensuing parliament, in order to give information to that assembly of the state of j their particular counties — a nearer approach to our present constitittion than had been made by the barons in the reign of King John, when the knights were only appointed to I meet in their several counties, and there to draw up a detail of their grievances. Meanwhile the twenty-four : barons proceeded to enact some regulations as a redress of fiuch grievances as were supposed to be sufficiently 1 notorious : they ordered that three sessions of parliament ; should be regularly held every year, in the months of February, June, and October ; that a new sheriff should be annually elected by the votes of the freeholders in each county; that the sherifts should have no power of fining the barons who did not attend their courts or the circuits of the justiciaries ; that no heirs should be committed to the wardship of foreigners, and no castles entrusted to their custody ; and that no new warrens or forests should be created, nor the revenues of any counties or hundreds be let to farm. Stich were the regulations which the twenty- four barons established at Oxford, for the redress of public grievances. But the Earl of Leicester and his associates, having ad- vanced so far to satisfy the nation, instead of continuing in this popular course, or granting the king that supply which they had promised him, immediately provided for the extension and continuance of their own authority. They roused anew the popular clamour which had long prevailed against foreigners ; and they fell with the utmost violence on the king's half-brothers, who were supposed to be the authoi's of all national grievances, and whom Henry had no longer any power to protect. The four brothers, sensible of their danger, took to flight, with an intention of making their escape out of the kingdom ; they were eagerly pur- .sued by the barons. Aymer, one of the brothers, who had been elected to the see of Winchester, took shelter in his episcopal palace, and carried the otha-a along with himj they were surrounded in that place, and threatened to be dragged out by force, and to be punished ::or their crimes and misdemeanours ; and the king, pleading the sacredness of an ecclesiastical sanctuary,, was glad to extricate them from this danger by banishing them the kingdom. CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1258. In this act of violence, as well as in the former usurpa- tions of the barons, the queen and her uncles are supposed to have secretly concurred, being jealous of the credit ac- quired by the brothers, which had entirely echpsed their own. The subsequent proceedings of the confederate barons were inefficient to open the eyes of the nation to their real design, which was neither more nor less than reducing both the king and the people under the arbitrary power of a very limited aristocracy, which, had it been carried out, must have terminated at last in anarchy or tyranny. They artfully pretended that they had not yet digested all the regulations necessary for the reformation of the state, and the redress of grievances ; that they must still retain their power tUl the great purpose was effected ; or, in other words, that they intended to remain perpetual governors tiU it pleased them to abdicate their authority ; and, in order to cement their power, they formed an associa- tion amongst themselves, and swore that they would stand by each other ■«'ith their lives and fortunes. The justiciary, the chancellor, and treasurer of the king- dom were removed from their offices, and creatures of the barons thrust into their places ; even the offices of the king's household were disposed of at their pleasure, and the go- vernment of all castles put into hands in which they could confide; and the whole power of the state being thus transferred into their hands, they put the crowning act to their usurpations by imposing an oath, which all subjects were obliged to swear under penalty of being proclaimed pubUc enemies, that they would olJey and execute all re- gulations, both known and unknown, of the twenty-four barons. Never had men a more glorious opportunity of covering themselves with honour, and securing the gratitude of their country, than the confederates now possessed ; but, instead of devoting themselves to establishing the liberties of their country, reforming the abuses, and correcting the laws, they selfishly preferred their personal aggrandisement. The history of the twenty-four barons is the history of the English aristocracy as a party for centuries. We seldom or ever find them in opposition to the cro'^vn, wringing from it the surrender of its prerogatives, unless to arrogate those very prerogatives to themselves. In their short- sighted policy, Httle did they foresee that a power was gradually springing into existence which would one day call them to as severe an account as they had called their monarchs — the power of the people. Edward, the king's eldest son, then a youth of eighteen, who, even at that early age, gave indications of the noble, manly spirit which distinguished him in after life, was, after some opposition, forced to take the oath, which virtu- ally deposed his father and his family from sovereign autho- rity. The last person in the kingdom who held out was Earl d3 Warenne, but even he was eventually compelled to submit. Not content with this usurpation of the royal power, the barons introduced an innovation in the constitution which was utterly at variance with its letter and spirit. They ordained that parliament should choose a committee of twelve persons, who should, in the intervals between the sessions, possess all the authority of the whole parliament, and attend, on a summons to that effect, the person of the king wherever he might reside. So powerful were the confederates, that even this regulation was submitted to, and thus the entire government was overthrown, or fixed upon a new foundation ; the monarchy suK'stecl without its being possible for the king to striks a single stroke in defence of the constitution against the newly-elected oli- garchy. The lesson to Henry must have been a bitter one, for he was the last person in the kingdom who had a right to complain. He could invoke no law which he had not been the first to violate. The degradation and restraint he en- dured was the just punishment of his perfidy and countless perjuries. The report that the King of the Romans intended visit* ing England alarmed the confederated nobles, who dreaded lest his extensive influence should be employed to restore his family, and overturn their new system of government. Under this impression they sent the Bishop of Worcester to meet him at St. Omers, to demand, in their name, the reason of his journey ; how long he intended to remain in the kingdom ; and to insist that, before he set foot in it, he should swear to observe the regulations established at Oxford. On Richard's refusal to take this oath, they prepared to resist him as a public enemy. They fitted out a fleet, assem- bled an army, and, exciting the inveterate prejudices of the people against foreigners, from whom they had suffered so many oppressions, spread the report that Richard, attended by a number of strangers, meant to restore by force the authority of his exiled brothers, and to violate all the securities provided for public liberty. The King of the Romans was at last obliged to submit to the terms required of him. But the barons, in proportion to their continuance in power, began gradually to lose that popularity which had assisted them in obtaining it ; and men repined that regulations, which were occasionally established for the reformation of the state, were likely to become perpetual, and to subvert entirely the ancient constitution. They were apprehensive lest the power of the nobles, always oppressive, should now exert itself without control, by removing the counterpoise of the crown ; and their fears were increased by some new edicts of the barons, which were plainly calculated to procure to themselves an im- munity in all their violences. They appointed that the circuits of the itinerant justices, the sole check on their arbitrary conduct, should be held only once in seven years ; and men easily saw that a remedy which returned, after such long intervals, against an oppressive power which was perpetual, would prove totally insignificant and use- less. The cry became loud in the nation that the barons should finish their intended regulations. The knights of the shires, who seem now to have been pretty regularly assembled, and sometimes in a separate house, made re- monstrances against the slowness of their proceedings. They represented that, though the king had performed all the conditions required of him, the barons had hitherto done nothing for the public good, and had only been care- ful to promote their own privaio advantage, and to make inroads on royal authority; and iliey even appealed to Prince Edward, and claimed his interposition for the interests of the nation and the reiormaticu of the govern- ment. The prince replied that, though it v.'as from con- straint, axid contrary to his private sentiments, he bai A.D. 1259.] TREATY OF ABBEVILLE. 287 sworn to maiutaiu the provisions of Oxford, he was deter- mined to observe his oath ; but he sent a message to the barons, requiring them to bring their undertaking to a speedy conclusion, and fulfil their engagements to the pubKc : otherwise, be menaced them that, at the expense of his life, hi would obhge them to do their duty, and would shed the last drop of his blood in promoting the interests and satisfying the just wishes of the nation. The remonstrances of the knights of the shire, and the spirited conduct of the heir to the crown, obliged the barons at last to publish a new code of ordinances for the reforma- tion of the state ; but the expectations of the nation were bitterly disappointed when they found that they consisted only in some trivial alterations in the municipal laws, and that their rulers intended to prolong their authority still further, under pretence tliat tlip task they had assumed was not yet accomplished. The current of popular opinion now turned in favour of the crown — indeed, so much so, that the barons had little left to rely on for support beyond personal influence and the power of their families, which, although exceedingly great, could not match itself against the combination of the king and people. France was at this time governed by Louis IX., a monarch of the most singular character that is to be met with in all the records of history. lie united to the abject superstition of the monk all the courage and great qualities of a hei-o, and what may appear still more extraordinary, the justice and integrity of a patriot, the mildness and humanity of a philosopher. So far from taking advantage of the divisions amongst the English in attempting to expel them from the provinces which they still held in France, he entertained many doubts as to the justice of the sentence of attainder pronounced against Henry's father, the licentious and worthless John, and had even expressed some intention of restoring his forfeited possessions. AVhenever this prince interposed in English affairs, it was always with an intention of composing the diiferences between the king and his nobility. He recommended to both parties every peaceable and reconciling measure, and he used all his authority with the Earl of Leicester, his native subject, to bend him to compliance with Henry. He made a treaty with England (May 20) at a time when the distractions of that kingdom were at the greatest height, and when the king's authority w.is totally annihilated, and the terms which ho granted might, even in a more prosperous state of tlieir aflairs, be deemed reasonable and advantageous to the English. He yielded up some territories which had been conquered from Poitou and Guieune ; ho ensured the peaceable possession of the latter province to Henry ; he agreed to pay that prince a large sum of money ; and he only required that the king should, in return, make a final cession of Normandy and the other provinces, which he could never entertain any hopes of recovering by force of arms. This cession was ratified by Henry, by his two sons and two daughters, and by the King of the Romans and his three sons. But the situation of Henry soon after wore a still more favourable aspect. The twenty-four barons had now en- joyed the sovereign power nearly three years, and had visibly employeE0ORATED, or 14th century, from the commencement of Edward I. to the end of Edward III. PERrENlirouLill, or 15th century, from tho oommoncement of Eiohard II. to tho end of Honry VII. The latter part of each of these perjpds was one of transition, and therefuro the terms 13th, 14tb, and 15th centuries must only be taken in a general sense. In the last chapter on architecture, we slightly traced the gradual transitions from the heavy masses of the puro Norman buildings, to the comparatively light ones which succeeded ; but it will be necessary here to enlarge a little more on the subject. Tho change commenced in the latter part of tho reign of Henry II., and continued to increase partly through that of Richard I., when towards the end of his reign it gradually emerged into the succeeding style ; the heavy Norman architecture gradually gave way, a greater Ughtness and loftiness wore introduced in the piers, the capitals were richly covered with foliage more closely resembling the Corinthian form, the angles of the abacus were frequently out off, the mouldings lost much of their Norman character, and the tooth ornament, which is so characteristic of the next stylo, began to be introduced. The pointed arch was used along with the round one, both in pier arches and in windows and doors, and throughout this period we find a mixture of tho two styles, the new growing, as it -were, gradually from the ruins of tho old, until in the commencement of the thirteenth century, or the begmning of the reign of John, it rose iu all its purity, and the cumbrous Norman entirely disappeared. Of the buildings of the Transition period, the following may bo mentioned. Canterbury Cathedral (1175 to I1&4), alluded to before as the most valuable, iu showing the gradual change from one style to the other. The round portico of the Temple Church, London* (1185), which dispkys many of the characteristics of both styles, the pointed arch being used for the piers, but the round arch for the clerestory windows and arcades. The hall of the castle of Oakham, now used as the County Hall, displays iu its capitals and corbels some of the finest sculpture we possess of this period. Oxford Cathedral is of this date, and exhibits a curious example of tho alternate use of the pointed and round-headed arch, iu the windows, and for the support of the central tower. Rothwell Church, Northamptonshire, ia also of this date, the west door of which is a good example of a pointed arch with Norman ornaments, wdiile tho capitals of the shafts display more of the character of tho Early English. In the buildings of this transition there is frequently much picturesque beauty, the sculgtm'es are executed with great freedom and variety of design, and the details of tho two styles harmonise well together. The abandonment of Norman forms and the adoption of the new ones was so gradual, that we can scarcely determine when the new style begins, for we see in tho earlier examples of Early English some Norman feature or other occasionally remaining, but about the beginning of the thirteenth century these seem to have entirely disappeared. THE EARLY ENGLISH STYLE. The style which succeedod the transition was named by Beokman the E.arly English Style, and by that name it ia commonly known. Many of the finest buildings we have are iu this stylo ; most of our cathedrals have portions of it, and one at least, SaUsbury, is built entirely ia it. • Bee page 296. 298 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1272. The earliest building we have of pure Early English is the chair of Lincoln Cathedral, and it is curious to find that at this eoi-ly date, 1195, the Norman ideas had beeu entirely laid aside. This building exhibits the style not only in its utmost purity, but iu its greatest beauty ; all its details are conceived and executed with the greatest delicacy and freedom, and all who wish to see this style in perfection, should see the choir of Lincoln. The nave is in the same style, but is about fifty years later, and is much plainer. The cathedral of Salisbury is, with the exception of the spire, almost entirely in this style ; but it is much more plain in its details than Lincoln, for which reason, and from its laucet windows being wider than usual, it is not so pleasing in its general appearance as moat buildings of this style. The Galilee, or western porch of Ely Cathedral, 1215, is one of the richest and most beautiful examples of Early English which we have in the kingdom. The choir of Rochester, 1225, and a great part of "Wor- cester Cathedral, are good examples of this style. Wells Cathedral is a well-known example, and its west front, with its gorgeous display of statuary, is the finest design of the kind we have (1239). Another magnificent front, entirely different from any- thing else, is that of Peterborough Cathedral, with its three splendid and lofty arches (1238). The body of the Temple Church, which was added to the more ancient round church in 1210, and the Chapter Houses of Lichfield and Oxford, alsg belong to this style, as do also numerous parish churches in all parts of the kingdom. Many of our finest monastic remains belong to this period. Of the domestic buildings of this period, examples still remain in various parts of the kingdom either of entire houses or parts, of which the following are some of the principal: — Aydon Castle, Northumberland; Little Wenham Hall, Sussex ; and Stoke Say, Shropshire ; the last being rather late in the style. Early Englisli buildings are chiefly distinguished from the Normau by their greater comparative lightness, and the prevalence of vertical lines instead of horizontal. Ex- terually, we find the buildings much more lofty, and lighted by long, narrow-pointed windows ; the buttresses, instead of being little more than pilasters, as in the Norman style, have a bold projectiou. aii 1, being gouerally finished with either peiliments or pinnacles, add greatly w the effect of the building. The roofs, too, iu consequence of the greater facility of vaulting, are considerably higher in pitch than the Norman ; and the towers being usually surmounted by spires add further to the appearance of loftiness, and make the com- parison between them and the Norman still more marked. Internally, we find that tlie heavy masses of piers are no longer seen, but are replaced by bundles of slender shafts, which support pointed arches and light and lofty vaulting, instead of the round arches and flat ceilings or heavy vaults of the Norman. The architects having found the power which the new principle gave them, seem to have run to the opposite extreme of their former work, and to have carried out the new idea with the utmost temerity. Towers. — The church towers of this style, as was said before, are usually surmounted by a spire, which is some- times very lofty, and either plain or ribbed at the angles, and sometimes crooketted. It sometimes rises from a parapet, and at others fits on the top of the tower, when it is CiiUed a broach spire. In the best specimens ot towers, an arcade runs along the upper belfry story, some of the archos of which are pierced for windows. There is gene- rally a richly-moulded door on the west side, and the middle storey has, in general, only a plain window. The buttresses either overlap the angles or project at right angles to the side. Windows. — The single light windows are, almost with- out exception, of the kind known as lancet windows, that is, long and narrow, and with pointed heads. They are usually quite plain, and are so characteristic of the style, that it has been called the lancet style. They are sometimes in pairs, threes, fives, or sevens, with a general dripstone extending over all. The window in the transept of York Cathedral, well known as the " Five Sisters," is a very beautiful example of the combination of five very long and graceful lancets, and, being filled with elaborately-penoUled stained glass, has a most fine and solemn effect. Some good examples also occur in the south transept of Beverley Minster. These are all richly moulded, and have shafts in the jambs ; but iu small churches they are frequently quite plain, having only a simple dripstone. Circular windows are also used, as well as another of an acutely- pointed oval form, commonly known as the vesica piscis. Both these forms are found in the transept of Beverley Minster, mentioned above. Where only two lancets are used, there is frequently a small circle or a lozenge pierced in the wall above the lancets, but under the dripstone, and which, in the inside, formed one window. These openings were in time enlarged, and, by an easy transition, regular tracery was formed ; and we find in the latter part of this style, when it was verging on the next, windaws of two or three lights, with circles of tracery iu the head. This was the origin of the tracery which was afterwards to form so important a feature, and on which the chief beauty of the succeeding styles mainly depends. Doorways. — These are almost universally deeply re- cessed and richly moulded, having shafts with capitals and bases on the jambs, and frequently ornamented with the tooth and other ornaments in the head. They are almost always pointed, but the round arch is still, in some few instances, retained, particularly in double doors when two arches have to be combined in one ; but, iu all cases, they may be distinguished from the Norman by their deeply- cut round and hollow mouldings, as well as by the capitals and bases of the shafts. Porches. — The Early English porch differs from the Norman in being brought forward from the wall, leaving a considerable space between that and the front of the porch. This space is generally lighted by open windows on the sides, and ornamented in the interior with arcades, and having a stone bench running down each side. The front visually terminates in a very acutely-pointed gable, sometimes plain and sometimes moulded, and having a rich doorway, which is in general elaborately moulded and orna- mented with the tooth ornament. The jambs have rows of shafts with capitals and bases, similar to the doorways before described, but frequently uuich more rich. Buttresses. — UnRke those of Norman buildings, the A.D. 1272.] ARCHITECTURE OF THE THIRTEENTH CENTURY. Of><) buttresses of this period project boldly from the wall, and tend greatly to take off the flatness of appearance so observ- able in the former style. They are commonly finished by pediments, and are sometimes connected by arches with the clerestory, when they are called fijing buttresses. Pinnacles are now used, but they are more like turrets, being much larger than those of the succeeding styles. They are in general ornamented with small shafts and arches. Piers and Piixars. — It is in these, more perhaps than in anything else, that we see the difference between a Norman and an Early English building. In the former, the architects, being deficient in mediseval skill, sought to remedy this defect, and to give strength to their buildings, by piling together large masses of masoury; while in the latter period, trusting to their scientific knowledge and the new principle of vaulting which they had just developed, they gradually reduced the strength of their piers, first by cutting their heavy rouud mass into a bundle of pillars all connected together, and afterwards separating these pillars, so that at the last the piers frequently consisted only of a central pillar, surrounded by a number of small detaohefl shafts connected with the central one morLly by the capital Capital, from Salisbury Cathedral. and base, and by bands placed at intervals on the shafts. Some fiue specimens of this kind of pillar occur at Salis- bury, where the lightness is carried to such excess that it seems wonderful how such slender shafts can support such . heavy weights. These elaborate pillars occur only in the cathedrals or large churches; in smaller buildings the pillars are generally plain, either round or octagonal ; but they may always be distinguished by the moulding and foliage of their capitals, and by their bases. Capitals, Foll^ge, and Bases,— These differ in many essential particulars from those of the Norman period, though in early buildings some of the Norman characters still remain. The abacus, the upper moulding or member of the capital, is in Norman work square ; in pure Early English it is circular ; its section in the first is square, sloped with the lower edge, or chamfered off; in the last it is moulded, having two bold round mouldings, with a deep hollow between them. The foliage of this perioJ is very different from that of any other. It consists of a kind of leaf rising with a stiff stem from the neck-moulding of the capital, and turning over in various graceful forms under the abacus. It is from the circumstance of its rising from a nothing can be further from stiffness, the utmost grace and elegance being displayed in its design and execution. lu sometimes takes the form shown in the specimens from Salisbury, and sometimes that of a trefoil, as in the one Capital, from Licooln Cathedral. from Lincoln. The bases are well mouklod, the genera) section being that of two round mouldings, the lower pro jecting beyond the upper, and a deep hollow between. Arches. — These are in most cases acutely pointed, but no general rule can be given, as much variety in form pre- vailed at this period. The rouud arch is still occasionally used, particularly in triforiums, as at York. In plain parish churches the pier arches are frequently only plainly chamfered, but in large buildings they are commonly deeply and elaborately moulded, and relieved with lines of tooth ornament. Mouldings and Ornaments. — These are of the greatest importance in all the styles of Gothic architecture, as they serve to distinguish one style from another when other tests fail. In the Early English they are particularly distinct and striking, and consist chiefly of bold rounds separated by deep hollows, thus producing an effect of light and shade much more remarkable than that produced by the Norman mouldings. Intermixed with these mould- ings, and frequently occupying one or more of the deep hollows, is an ornament known as the " tooth ornament " or " dog's-tooth," and which is as characteristic of the Early English style as the zigzag is of the Normau. It consists of a series of small pyramids cut into the form of four leaves, and which, when acute and seen in profile, have something the appearance of a row of teeth. It is profusely Tooth Ornament, from Lincoln Cathedral. used in aU situations where ornament can bo introduced. Flat surfaces are frequently ornamented with foliage, or cut into small squares, each of which is filled with a flowe*. stem that it la sometimes called stiff-kav^d foliage; but j This kind of work is called Z)io/)er. SOO CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1272. Tha Fronts of Early English buildings are, in general, very fine compoMtions, and though plainer in detaU than those of the succeeding styles, they have more elegance of proportion. A good idea of their general arrangement may be formed from the one here given of the south transept of Beverley Minster, Prince Edward was accepted by the people as their ruler, and his accession was attended with less difficulty or oppo- sition than that of any of his predecessors. When Louis IX. departed on his second expedition to the Holy Land, he turned aside to attack the Bey of Tunis, and, instead of proceeding direct to Syria, he landed on r South Transept of Beverley Minster. CHAPTER LVm. Accesflion of Edward I., surnamcd Longshanks —Adventures of Edtvard in the Holy Land — His return to Guiennc — Ilia Landing in England, and Coronation — Persecution of the Jews— Conquest of Wales. Immediately after the funeral of Henry IH., the barons proclaimed hia son Edward, then absent on the crusade, to be king. Walter Merton was nominated chancellor of the kingdom, and the Earl of Gloucester, the Earl of Cornwall, a 8on of the King of the Romans, and Walter Giflbrd, Archbishop of York, were appointed regents. So wise were the measures taken, and so general was the assent of all parties, that no disturbance of the public peace took place, as bad latherto frequently happened on the death of a king. the shores of Africa. This deviation from his original course was probably due to the representations of his brother, Charles of Anjou, who, in the battle of Grandella (A.D. 126G), had won from Manfred the crown of Italy. There was some pretence of a claim to tribute possessed by the kings of Sicily against Tunis, but it is probable that the real object of the expedition lay in the hope of plundering that immense wealth which was supposed to be treasured up in the African cities. The forces of Louis soon made themselves masters of the town of Carthage, but they had landed during the summer, and the excessive heat of that unaccustomed climats, added to the want of good water and provision, produced seTgre A.D. 1272.] ACCESSION OF EDTVARD I. SOX Departure of Edward and Eleanor to the Holy Land. 26 R02 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1272. BJcknesa among the crusailers. The character of Louis IX. is cue with few parallels in any age. Perversions of the re- ligious sentiment were common at the time in which he lived : he was not free from their influence, and his piety- was mingled with superstition and austerity. But, in times of diflioulty and danger, when the hypocrite falls away, and the true is distinguished fi'om the fiiLse, his fine huuiauity j and nobility of soul shone out in a manner which de^uamls j from posterity its highest meed of honour. While his Eoliiers were dying by hundreils around him, he was in the midst of them, giving up every comfort, and running every risk for the sake of giving them comfort. At length he was himself smitten with the disease, and feeling his death ap- proaching, he lay down calmly to await the inevitable event. In his last moments we are informed that he thought only of the sufferings of his family, and of the best form of words which might tend to console them. " My friends," he said, '' grieve not for me : I have finished my course. It is right that I, as your chief, should lead the way. One day you must all follow me ; keep yourselves ready for the journey." Such were the last words of this remarkable man, known in French history by the name of Saint Louis. When Edward received information of the course taken by his ally, he iilso proceeded to Tunis ; but on his arrival there, he found that Louis was dead, and that less than one half of his army were remaining. The progress of the diae;ise, however, had been stayed, and the remaining portion of the French army, deprived of the guidance of their leader, had made terms with the Bey of Tuuia, and appeared rather > ^poaed to stay where they were than to tempt fut-ther P' rils in the Holy Laud. The English soldiers appear to have been iu some degree infected with thesame pusillauimoiis spit^it. They re-crossed the Jlediterrauean to Sicily, and passed the winter at Trapani. Edward had restored unani- mity to his troops by the declaration, which he made with all the solemnity of au oath, that if every man of tbera should desert him, he would go on to Acre attended by his groom. On breaking up his winter quarters, Edward found that his effective force did not exceed 1,000 men. "With these he Yit sail from Sicily early in the spring, and proceeded to Acre, one "f the few conquests of the crtlsaders in the East ■which still remaiued to them. Small as the force was with which Edward landed, his arrival produced consternation among the Mo-ilems, and projiortiouate joy among the ChrisTians. The fame of Richard L'OBur-de-Lion was still fresh In their mind-i, and E I ward, 'already distinguished in tlie Held of war, might be expected to etuillatB the deeds of that renowned king. At the time of Edward's arrival. Acre -Was threatened by the Sultan of Babylon, who had jissembled an army ■without its walls, and had made preparations for nil assault. Whetl the ships of the English prince appeared ih the distance, the sultan at once retreated into the desert, and passed into Egypt. Edward led his army iuto the interior, ■ and carried the city of Nazareth by storm. Nearly two bundled years had passed sltire the banner of the cross first •waved over .Teru3a.lem, and its Blt'e:!ts ran down with blood 'slied by Christian hands. In those two hundred years the ■world had made somp progress in humanity. The advance of tile nrts df life, and the spreatl of etimmercc, haK dohe Eoirii'thing to enhance the value of human life, and to promote that intellectual activity which is ever opposed to bloodshed. But over the spirit of fanaticism these things hail no in- fluence^the most cruel spirit that has oppressed mankind iu the guise of an angel of Ught. The crusaders still believed that the blood of the ^Moslem was an acceptable sacrifice to Heaven ; they still believed that the Saracens ought to hs excluded from that mercy which every Christian might ask from his fellow, and that iu deads of whoL'sal! murder tliey were doing God service. The Moslem-i at Nazareth were butchered a-; at Jerusalem ; and the knightly Edward led and directed the slaughter. Soon afier the massacre, the prince, with raany of his soliliers, was attacked by sickness, and was compelled to return to Acre. Here the army of the Cross remained for a period of fifteen months, which seem to have been pa;sed in inactivity. Some few sldriLiishes took place with the Saracens, during which the crusaders maintained their old reputation for valour, and some few incursions were made upon the surrounding country, which, in one instance, re- sulted in the plunder of a curavan, and in another in the capture of two castles j but these were the only advantages gained by the Christian troops during that period. This was not the result of indolence on the part of Edward, or of any lack of will fof more important operations, but it apiiears that the force at his command was insufficient for such purposes. The number of his troops did not exceed 7,000 meUj who were composed of all the nations of Europe, -Were imperfectly disciplined, and after a tiaie showed themselves disaffected towards his authority. Such proved to be the case when thry found that Eilward had brouglit little money with him, and that he received no reinforcements. On the other hand, the town of Acre had been so strongly fortified, in some degree by Edward himself, that the Moslem leaders were deterred from attacking it. The presence of the English prince, however, caused them great annoyance ; and since open njei-juros wefa out of the question, they determined to get rid of him by assassination. An elaborate scheme was contrived for that purpose. The Emir of Jaffa seat letters to the prince, with presents, expressing his desire of becoming a Christian. Edward returned a courteous reply, and on this pretence a lengthened correspondence took place between them. The messengers of the emir, frequmtly visiting the prince, were at length permitted to come and go without question or examination. One evening, when Edward was lyilig iu his tent, unarmed and alone, the servant of the emir appeared at the door and made his usual obeisance. Edward bade him enter, and as he did so and knelt to present a letter, he suddenly drew a dagger with the other hand, and made a blow at the piince's heart. Edward, -whose personal strength was little inferinl- to th;it of C'ueur-de-Lio!i, caught his hand and turned the dagg r aside, receiving a slight wound in the arm. He then threw the murderer to the ground and slew him with his own weapon. The appearance of the prince's wound soon showed that the dagger had been poisoned, and Edwar.l therefore made hi'i will, and believed that his last hour wa? approaching. But there Was an English surg.ion at Acre whose skill appeirs to have been greater than was usual in his day, and U-ho cut away the envenomed parts of tin wo;!n1. The order of the rempl irs also were noted for their know- ledge of medicine, and the Granl Master of the nr
  • . 1296. tto gaiTison to surrender, tliey agreed to do so, provided they -svero not relieved within tliree days. MeanwMe, the whole Scottish army was advancing upon the English, and having reached the high ground above Dunbar, took up a strong position there. Forty thousand foot and 1,500 horse were ranged in formidable array upon the hills, and the gamsoa of the castle jeered and insulted the English from the walls, as though they were already beaten. The relative positions and numbers of the two armies were such that nothing but the headlong preci- pitancy of the Soots could have lost them the victory. Undismayed by the number of the enemy. Earl Warenne advanced to meet them, and while passing through a narrow valley his troops fell for a short time into con- fusion. The Soots perceived this, and believing that the English were taking to flight, they abandoned their posi- tion, and rushed down upon their foes with shouts of triu.mph. Meanwhile the English leader had restored order among his troops, and the Scots found themselves, not among masses of fugitives, but face to face with a C07npact body of tried and well-appointed soldiers. They were diiven back in the greatest disorder, and the earl gained a complete victory, which for a time decided the fate of Scotland. Ten thousand men were left dead on the field, and the greater number of the leaders were taken prisoners. This battle was fought on the 28th of April, and on the following day King Edward appeared on the scene in person, and the castle then surrendered. Edward proceeded with his customary energy to com- plete the subjugation of the kingdom. He passed through the country, and took possession of the castles of Eox- burgh, Dumbarton, and Jedburgh. Having received re- enforcements, he advanced to Edinburgh', which fortress surrendered to him after a siege of eight days. At Stirling he was joined by the Earl of Ulster, with 30,000 men, and passed on to Perth, where for a few days he sheathed the sword and occupied himself with the cere- monies of religion. While the English army were keep- ing the feast of John the Baptist, new messengers arrived from Baltol, who now sued for peace. Edward would not condescend to treat with the fallen monarch in per- son, but sent to him the Bishop of Durham, who com- municated to him the pleasm-e of the English king. The terms offered were such as never ought to have been accepted. Baliol was required to submit himself abso- lutely to the mercy of the conqueror, and to renounce his kingly state under circumstances of the utmost humi- liation. In the presence of an assembly of bishops and nobles the King of Scotland was stripped of crown and sceptre, and was compelled, with a white rod in his hand, to perform a feudal penance. The date of this disgrace- ful transaction was the 7th of July, a.d. 129G, and the scene, according to the statements of historians, as well as the details of local tradition, was the churchyard of Strathkathro, in Angus. Baliol placed his son Edward in the king's hands as a hostage, and the youth, with his father, was sent to England, where both remained for three years, imprisoned in the Tower. Edward continued his victorious course through Scot- land, encountering no opposition. From Perth he pro- ceeded by way of Aberdeen to Elgin. On his return to Berwick ho visited the ancient abbey of Scone, and re- moved from it the " famous and fatal stone " upon which for ages past the Scottish kings had been crowned. This stone, with the regalia of Scotland, was placed by Edward in Westminster Abbey, as r. memorial of the conquest of Scotland. Within a year ':hat conquest had been en- tirely wrested fi'om him ; but the stone stiU remains sub Westminster, little worn by the lapse of six centuries. After the battle of Dunbar, Bruce, the Earl of Carrick, reminded Edward of his promise to place him on the Scottish throne. The king — who fulfilled his promises only when it suited him — replied angrily, ' ' Have 1 nothing to do but to conquer kingdoms for thee?'' Instead of placing Bruce on the throne, Edward directed him, with his son, the younger Bruce, to receive to the king's peace the inhabitants of his own estate of Carrick and Annandale. Such was the degrading office in which the young Eobert Bruce, the future restorer of his country's freedom, was at this time employed. Edward now occupied himself in a settlement of the affairs of the kingdom; and the measures which he took for that purpose were in themselves politic and just. The forfeited estates of the clergy were restored, many of the civil functionaries of Baliol retained in office, and the governors of districts in most eases permitted to exercise authority as before. Some Englishmen were, however, placed in command of castles and districts to the south, and the supreme authority was vested in three persons — John de Warenne, Earl of Siu-rey, governor ; Hugh de Cressingham, treasui'er; and William Ormesby, justi- ciary. The independence of Scotland now appeared completely destroyed, the great nobles reduced to a state of sub- mission, if not of sorvilitj', and the power of the King of England firmlj' seated throughout the country. But a change was at hand, and the slumbering fires of patriotism were soon to be kindled into a blaze from east to west. The man who was destined to rouse his countrymen from their apathy, and work out the freedom of his native land, was at this time engaged in roaming the hills of Eenfrewshiro at the head of a petty band of marauders. He was that Sir William Wallace, famed through succeeding ages in song and story, but of whom history can offer few details worthy of reliance. The family of Wallace was ancient, and might be termed gentle, but was neither rich nor noble. Ho was the son of Sir Malcolm Wallace, of Ellerslie, in Eenfrewshire. In those stormy times bodily strength and valour- in the field were the first qualities necessary to success. The strength of Wallace is described as having been prodi- gious. His size was gigantic, and as he grew towards manhood there were few men who could meet him in single combat. He was a man of violent passions, and a strong hatred of the English, which was evinced by him early in life, was fostered by those with whom he came in contact. When Edward returned to England ho received few of the congratulations which usually meet the returning conqueror, and, on the contrary, he perceived lowering faces and a general expression of discontent among the nobles and the people. The immense expenses incuiTcd by the repeated wars of the king had impoverished the country; and wli en Edward demanded fi-esh supplies for the campaign in Fr.itico, the barnns domuri'ed, and many of them quitted the Parliament with their retainers. A.D. 1297.] SIR WILLIAil WALLACE. 321 This state of thinga oucouragod tlio Scots to take up arms ouco inox'o. The gioat chioi's, iiulooil, Lung back from the movcmout, aud maintained their condition of supinoness and inactivity, but tho inferior nobility aud tho people no longer suffered thomsolvea to be restrained. Incited by their hatred of the English, the peasants formed themselves into armed bands, which infested the highways, and attacked any of thoir onomios whom they caald surprise in detached parties. Edward devoted large sums of money to repressing these disorders, but without success ; and now there appeared on the scene tho extra- ordinary individual whoso energies, first excited by per- sonal injuries, were afterwards devoted to his countiy, with efforts uot less than heroic. We first read of Wallace as engaged in a quarrel in the town of Lanark with some EngHsh officers who had in- sulted him. Bloodshed ensued, and he would probably have lost his life in the streets but for the interference of his mistress, to whoso house he fled, and with whose issistance he escaped. It is stated that Hislop, the Eng- lish sheriff, attacked the house, and, in a spirit of brutal and unmanly vengeance, seized tho unhappy lady, aud put her to death. Wallace, having hoard tho news, threw himself upon the sheriff, and slew him. For this deed he was proclaimed a traitor, aud banished from his home to seek a retreat among the mountain fastnesses. Iloro he was soon joined by a few desperate men, who naturally acknowledged the strongest as their chief, and who, under his guidance, made successful attacks upon straggling parties of English. His name soon became famous, and numbers of mou of different classes flocked to his standard. Tho halo of romance with which this hero was speedilj' invested by the people, tho continued and galling acts of tyranny on tho part of the English, and the desire of revenge, all tended to recruit the ranks of the mountain chieftain. Among the first men of note who joined him was Sir William Douglas, the former commander of the garrison of Berwick, who, at the sacking of that town, had been permitted to march out with miUtarjf honoui's. lie now brought a force consisting of the whole of his vassals to tho armj"- of Wallace. At this time Ormesby, the justiciar}', was holdiug court at Scone. Thither Wallace led his troops, aud surprised the justiciary, who escaped with difficulty, leaving a rich booty behind him. The Scots now openly ravaged tho country, plundering and slaying all tho English that fell into their power. Wallace was cruel and merciless in war, and through tho records of that time wo look in vain for any of those acts of humanity which were inculcated by tho laws of chivalry, aud occasionally practised bj' men who sought tlie reputation of accomj>lishod knights. The same ruth- loss barbarity characterised the mode of warfare on cither side, and Scots or English, iu passing through the country, marked their course by a trail of blood. The conduct of the younger Bruce, who afterwards, as Eobert I., displayed such distinguished abilities, was at this time uncertain, aud the reverse of energetic. Edward, however, di-eaded the rebellion of a chief who possessed such great estates and influence, and, having summoned him to Carlisle, compelled him to make oath, on tho sword of Thomas a Beoket, that ho would continue faith- ful. As a proof of his fidelitj', he was required to ravage the lauds of Sir WiUiam Douglas, whose wife aud childieu ho seized and can-ied into Annandale. Having thus quelled suspicion, the young chief, wlio was then twenty- two yours old, called together his father's vassals, spoke of his recent oath as having been extorted by force, and therefore of no weight, and urged them to follow him against tho oppressors of their country. They refused to do so iu the absence of his father, and Bruco then col- lected his own retainers, and proceeded to join Wallacet The news of the rising of the Scots was brought to Edward as he was about to embark for Flanders. He immediately issued orders for the collecting of an army, which was placed under the command of Sir Hcury Percy and Sir Robert Clifford. These distinguished commanders advanced, at the head of 40,000 men, to meet the forces of tho patriots, which were already in a condition of dis- organisation. Tho Scots were without any acknowledged loader, and although AVallacc, as tho prime mover of the revolt, as well as by his sui)erior qualities, was the most worthy to assume that position, the higher nobility who were with him refused k> act under tho orders of a man whom they regai'ded as tlioir inferior. Under such cir- cumstances as theso, combined movements were impos> sible, and all the advantages of discipline, which, equally with prudence, may be said to bo the better part of valoiu', wero on the side of tho enemy. Tho English leaders proposed to negotiate, and, after a short delibe- ration, the chief associates of Wallace laid down their arms, and once more gave thoir submission to IMward. Among those who did so were Bruce, Sir William Douglas, the Steward of Scotland, the Bishop of Glasgow, Sir Alex- ander Lindesay, and Sir Richard Lundin. The document signed by them is dated at Irvine, ou the 9th of July. One man alone, of all the higher Scottish nobility, remained to uphold the honour of his order, and preserved his duty to his country. This was Sir Andrew Moray of Bothwell. Undaunted by tho disaffection of his powerful companions, Wallace still held together a strong band of men, who, poorer and more patriotic, disapproved tho pusillanimity of their chiefs ; and with these he retreated for a time into tho mountains. Several months elapsed, during which Edward appears to have made no attempt to molest tlie Scottish insurgents. Meanwhile, the fame of Wallace was extended throughout the country, aud vast numbers of the people flocked to his standard. Knighton, an old English historian, asserts that the whole of tho lower orders already regarded Wal- lace as the future deliverer of their country, and that they gathered new hope and courage amidst tho surrounding dangers from tho undaunted brow he bore. It is stated, also, that manj- of the nobility repented of oaths weakly or unwillingly taken, aud thcii' hearts were with the cause of the man whom they had refused to obey. Wallace renewed offensive operations with greatly increased forces, and drove the English from the castles of Brechin, Forfai', Montrose, and other fortresses to the north of the Forth. He was engaged iu a siege of the castle of Dundee when ho received news of the advance of tlie English. Raifiiug the siege, he marched his forces, consisting of 40,000 men, in haste to Stirling, where he arrived before tho English army. Wallace took up a favourable position on the banks of the Forth, a portion of his troops being con- coaled by tho hills. The Earl of Surrey, in commund of 00,000 foot aud 1,000 horse, soon aitorwaiJd appeared ou 322 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEiTED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1297 the other side of tlie rirer. On observing the strong position of Wallace, the earl thought it prudent to nego- tiate with him, and to this end sent messengers to him proposing to treat. The reijlj' of Wallace was bold and decided. " Eeturn," he said, "to those who sent you, and say that we are not here to waste words, but to main- tain our rights and give freedom to Scotland : lot them advance, and wo will meet them beard to beard." The English were exasperated by this menace, and im- IJortuned their leader to accept the challenge ofi'ered to him. Cressingham, the treasurer, a weak and hot-tem- pered man, joined his expostulations with the others, protesting against a delay which would increase the ex- penditure of th J public money. The earl, though an able general, who must have perceived the danger of an attack against the position before him, was prevailed upon by such representations as these to yield his own better judgment, and lead his impatient troops to the destruction which awaited them. Early on the morning of the 11th September the English began their passage across the narrow wooden bridge which was the only means of communication with the opposite bank of the river. It is evident that a large force would occupy many hours in crossing the river by this means, and during that time they must lie in a great measure at the mercy of a determined enemv. Wallace did not neglect the opportunity thus afforded him. He suffered the English to transport about one-half of their forces, and then took possession of one end of the bridge, thus effectually cutting off their further advance. He then surrounded the body of the enemy who were thus separated, tlirew them into confusion, and gained a bloody victory. Many thousands of the English fell by the sword or perished in the water, and among the dead was the treasurer, Cressingham. This man during his adminis- tration had made himself peculiarly obnoxious to the Scottish people, and they now revenged themselves after a barbarous fashion, by stripping the skin from the dead body of their enemy, and cutting it into small pieces to be worn as the North American Indian of our day carries the scalp of his fallen foe. The Earl of Surrey had not crossed the river, and as soon as he perceived that the destruction of his troops was inevitable, he caused as many of them as could be collected to occupy the castle of Stirling, and then took horse and rode at full speed to Berwick. Among the Scats the loss was comparatively small, and the only man of note who fell wa-. the patriotic Sir Andrew Moray of Both well. The result of this riitory was no loss than the restoration of the country to freedom. Wallace pushed his success without delay, and wherever he went his pro- gress was almost without opposition. The castles of Edinburgh, Berwick, Dundee, and Roxburgh at once surrendered, and within a short time the rest of the Scottish strongholds submitted to the victor ; so that there was not a fortress in the country remaining in the pos- session of the English king. A few months later a famine arose in Scotland, and, driven in some measure by the want of supplies, WaUaso invaded England. He remained for a while in Cumber- land, and on his return an assembly of the nobility was held at the Forest Kirk, in Selkirkshire, it is generally awlerstood to have been at this time that Wallace was invested with the title of guardian or governor of the ; kingdom of Scotland and commander of its army. I It is worthy of remark that the name of Baliol was ! retained in this instrument, and the appointment oi j AVallace was declared to be made with the authority ol King John, whose legitimate right to the crown appears to have been universally recognised. At this time Edward wa5 still in Flanders, engaged in a war with Philip of France, which 'had followed the seizure of Guienne. A treaty of peace having been at length agreed to, Philip endeavoured to influence Edward in favour of the Scots, and to include them also in the amnesty. But the English king would listen to no such proposals. His conquest had been suddenly wrested from him, and he was intent on vengeance. He issued letters to the barons of the kingdom, commanding that the whole military force of the realm should be assembled at York on the I4th of January, A.D. 1298. The immense army thus collected together, and num- bering 100,000 foot and 4,000 horse, was placed under the Earl of Surrey, who led it as far as Berwick. On his arrival there, the eai-l received the king's direction not to proceed until he himself should be there to take the command. Edwai-d landed in England in March, and again sum- moned the barons, with all the forces at their command, to meet him at York at the approaching feast of Pentecost. A still moi'e numerous army than before was thus orga- nised, and the king placed himself at its head, and marched triumphantly towards the north. Having reached Rox- burgh, he proceeded thence along the coast, attended by a fleet which had been dispatched to fui'nish the army with supplies. During this part of his course he encountered no opposition, saw no enemy, and the few habitations which were to be found along the route had been deserted by their inhabitants. The Scottish patriots were gathered together among the mountains, and the great and noble of the land onco more ranged themselves beneath the standard of Wallace. Among them was Robert Bruce, who now finally declared himself on the side of freedom. With a cool judgment, which merited a more fortunate issue, Wallace for a time avoided coming into collision with the enemy, whose over- whelming numbers threatened to crush him in an open conflict. He hung upon the flank of the English army, unseen, but close at hand, ready to take advantage of any opportunity of inflicting damage upon it. The march of Edward was not unattended with difficulties. The scanty resources of the country were wholly insufficient to afford sustenance for his troops, and the store ships were detained and driven about by contrary winds. A quarrel also took place between the English and Welsh soldiers under his command ; and the latter, to the number of 40,000, showed a disposition to desert, and go over to the Scots. This cruel and unprincipled king poss ;ssed at least the quality of a high-souled courage ; and when the probable desertion of so large a portion of his army was reported to him, ho is said to have treated the matter with disdain. " Let my enemies," he said, " go and join my enemies. One day I will chastise them all." Meanwhile the ships stiU failed to arrive, and the scarcity of provisions seemed likely to approach a famine. Edward was about to retreat to Edinburgh, when he learned that the Scottish army A.r). 1298.] BATTLE OP FALIQEK. 323 was encamped not far off in the wood of rulkii'k. Tho news is said to have been bioujjht to tho king privately by two of tho Scottish nobles, the Eails of Dunbar and Angus. He immediately determined to go forth to meet the insui'goats, and on that night the royal army lay in the fields. Edward himself, sleeping beside his horse, received a kick from tho auimul, which broke two of his ribs. The news soon spread through tho camp that the king had been killed, and a state of confusion ensued which threatened tho complete demoralisation of the troops. Edward, however, restored diaciphno among them by mounting his horse, and riding at their head, regard- less of the pain he endured. The English army began its march at dawn on the 22nd of July, a.d. 1298. Within a short time the enemy were observed to have taken up a position in a field which lay at tho side of some rising ground iu the neigh- bourhood of Falkirk. The force under tho command of Wallace was greatly inferior to that opposed to him ; but he had posted his troops with groat judgment, and for a long time the Scottish infantry repelled the furious attacks directed against them. Not so the cavahy, of whom Wallace possessed no more than 1,000. These did not even attempt to resist the superior numbers of the enemy, but, without striking a blow, they turned and fled from the field. Cowardice is certainly not tho characteristic of the race to which these men belonged, and therefore their flight can only be attributed to treason on the part of their leaders. Be the cause what it might, the loss of this division speedily decided the fate of the day, and the heroic resistance of the infantry was rendered totally un- availing. The Scots at lengtli gave way before the repeated charges of heavy cavahy, and the victory of the king was complete. Little or no quarter seems to have been asked or given, for we are told that 15,000 Scots were left dead upon the field. Wallace effected his escape with a remnant of his army, and fell back on Stirling. The English followed fast on his steps ; but when they arrived at that place he was gone, and the town was a heap of smouldering ruius. St. Andrews and Perth were afterwards also biu'nt to the ground ; the first by the English, and the latter by the inhabitants themselves. As tho king passed through the country, he laid waste the villages and the cultivated fields with fire and sword. But tho land was poor, and not aU the activity of the mai-audiug forces could procure the necessaries of life for so large a body of men. Edward was compelled to retreat, and in the month of September he quitted Scotland, having regained possession only of the southern part of the country. For several years after the signal defeat he sustained at Falkirk we hear no more of Wallace. Ho resigned the office of guardian of the kingdom, and, in an assembly of the barons, William Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrews, John Comyu the younger, John do Soulis, and Robert Bruce, Earl of C'arrick, were appointed guardians in his stead. Tho new appointments were made, like the old, in tho name of Baliol, although that dethroned monarch was then a prisoner in London. It would appear that bitter feuds of long standing were buried in the arrange- ment by which Bruce and Comyn consented to act to- gether in the name of the man who had successfully nvaJUed bath of them in th« contest for the ci-owp- The events of the after life of John Baliol may be told in a few words. Li the year 1299 the Pope Bouifuco VJU. interceded in his behalf, and tho fallen king was liberated from his confinement, and conveyed to the estate of Bailleul, in Normandy, from which his ancestors took their name. There ho passed tho rest of his days in retirement, scarcely remembLriug his former liigh posi- tion, and little heeding the important events which were deciding tho destinies of his country. Ho died in tho year 1314. .lUlusion has already been made to the heavy burdens entailed upon the English people by tho repeated wars of their king. When constitutional means failed to raise tho required sums, Edward did not hesitate to resort to any expedients which suggested themselves to enable him to fill his exhausted treasury. On one occasion he avowed that he had taken the cross, and should make a second journey to the Holy Laud ; a pretext by whicli he obtained a tenth of the entire income of the Church for sij, years. At a later period he seized a largo portion of tho wealth deposited in the religious houses, stating his inten- tion of repaying it on some future day. This promise was accepted by tho clergy for no more than it was worth ; and when he subsequently made a demand upon them of one- half of their whole incomes, tho whole body of ecclesiaslics strongly resisted the exaction, and ultimately complied with great reluctance. A fui'ther demand of a fourth, which was made upon them in the following year (a.d. 1290), was successfully resisted, and tho king was compelled to be satisfied with a tenth. In addition to these causes of complaint, the clergy were oppressed by the officers of tho crown, who seized their stores and ransacked their granaries for supplies for the king's troops. At length they applied for aid to the Pope ; but tho only result of the application was to make their condition still more miserable. The Pope granted them a bull, directing tliat the Church revenues should not be devoted to secular purposes without the permission of tho Holy See. But at this time Boniface was himself in a position of difficulty, and the bull being opposed in France, he was compelled within a year to issue another, which virtually restored matters to their foi-mei position, and removed the papal protection from the goods of tho Church. Acting upon tho authority of the first bull, some of tho English clergy refused to satisfy the demands of the king, who then took tho extraordinary course of outlawing the whole body. The whole of the property of bishops, abbots, and inferior clergy was seized, insomuoh that in many cases they were left without bread to eat or a bed to lie upon. Tho influence of the clergy upon tho people must at this period have been extremely small, as it does not appear that these arbitrary proceedings excited any indignation or interference on their- behalf. Having obtained all that ho could from the Church, the king extended his proceedings to the nobles, merchants, and citizens of the kingdom, whoso goods ho seized with- out a shadow of pretext. The landowners and the burgheif, however, were made of more stubborn stuff than the clergy, and the opposition ho here encountered was of the most decided character. In February, A.D. 1297, Edward was engaged in collecting two armies to proceed, the one into Flanders, and the other to Guienne, when tho Earl of Hereford, tho constable of England, and tho Earl of Nor- folt. y.io maishal, who had been rconired to (luit the 324 CASSELL'S IT.LUSTRATED HISTOET OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1298„ country with their armed vassals, directly refused to obey. The king addi-essed the marshal, and swore by the ever- lasting God that he should either go or hang ; and the earl repeated tlis oath, and swore that lie would neither go nor hang. Vfibii these words the two barons quitted the royal presence together, anl :'.,oOO knights immediately followed them. The king thus louud himself deserted by his court, and ho knew that at such a moment his crown or oven his life was in imminent danger. With that ability aud the manner in which it was concluded proves him to have been an excellent actor. After a pathetic allusion to the dangers he was about to encounter for his subjects, and expressing a hope that, in the event of his death, they would preserve the succession to his son, the stern warrior-kiug shed tears before kis audiencj, the arch- bishop also wept, and the people, overcome by these ex- traordinary demonstrations, rent the air with shouts of loyalty. Origiu of the War belvveuii I'laULu aud huytauj. ^yeo ^jagu lil5.) foi' which he was distinguished, he occupied himself in ijuoUing the storm. He employed all his art to conciliate the clergy, and having in some degree succeeded, he next addressed himself to secure the good-will of the people. The measure which he adopted for this purpose was as singular in design as it was successful in result. Ue mounted a •;,iatform in front of Westminster Hall, attended only by his son, the Pri'iao of Wales, the Earl of Warwick, ind the Archbishop of Canterbury, and addressed the people assembled below him. Tho speech which he de- livered was ixiaruclerised by ability aud utter insincerity, Edward now appointed the Archbishcp of Canterbury to tho head of the council of regency, ami proceeded to embark on his expedition to Flanders. /O Winchester lie was met by a deputation, who, in the naoie of the lords spiritual and temporal of England, tendered him a formal remonstrance. The nobles denied their liability to ac- company the king to Flanders, in which country their fathers had never borno arms for the kings of England ; and that, moreover, their means were so reduced by the royal exactions, that thoy could not, if they would, obey his command. They also desi^uated the expedition as A.D. 1298.] TREACHERY OP PHILIP. 325 unnoccssary and impolitic while affairs in Scotland re- mained in such a critical position. The king made no direct reply to the address, and feeling himself secure in the loyalty of the people, he left the nobles to their dis- content, and set sail for Flanders. It is necessary hero to relate the circumstances which led to the expedition in question. In the year 1294 Edward had concluded a treaty of marriage between his tion throughout Europe, and the Pope having remonstrated with the king, ho was compelled to sot the count at liberty. Before doing so, however, he com.pelled him to make oath that ho would abandon the alliance with England, and, in pledge of the fulfilment of the vow, Philippa was required to be sent to Paris as a hostage. Those demands having been reluctantly complied with, the old count took a tender farewell of his child, who was then only twelve QuPiTcl between Eaivanl I. .111.1 tli^^ Earb of Norfo k and Hereford. (See page 321.) son Edward and Philippa, the daughter of Guy, Count of Flanders. This union was opposed to the interests of the King of France, who exerted every moans i:i his power to prevent it. Having in vain attempted to do so by a course of intrigues, Philip sent to invite the count to moot him at Corbeil, for the purpose of consulting on matters of importance. The old man, whose character was honest and unsuspicious, presented himself at the time appointed, when his person, with that of his wife, was seized by the orders of Philip, who conveyed them prisoners to Paris. This unknightly act of treachery excited general indigna- 28 years old, and returned to his own dominions. An appeal which ho addressed to the Popo for the recovery of his, daughter was answered by a threat of excommunication against Philip ; but that unscrupulous monarch retained possession of his fair hostage, in defiance of the thunders of the Church. It was at this time that the count entered in4;o a coalition which had lioon recently formed by Edward, and which included the Emperor of Germany, the Duke of Austria, the Duke of Brabant, and tho Count of Bar. Such were tho circumstances under which Edward entered on the expedition which terminated with so Uttlo 326 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1299. success to the English arms. He landed at Sluys in the month of August, and immediately on his ai'rival quarrels broke out among the sailors of the fleet, who came from different seaports, and between whom there were long- standing feuds existing. Such was the extent to which these animosities were carried, that a regular engagement took place between the mariners of Yarmouth and those of the cinque ports, and twenty-five ships belonging to the former were burnt. It is related that, during the conflict, three of their largest ships, one of which carried the royal treasure, were taken possession of and conveyed out to sea. While such was the condition of the British navy at this period, the land troojjs were occupied with similar cjuarrels and disorders. Among the allies of Edward there was little more unity. The cities of Flanders, rivals in wealth and power, regarded each other with a jealousy which threatened the most serious dissensions. Among the various factions were some who adhered to PhiKp of France, and their numbers were greatly in- creased whoa that king marched into tlie country at the head of an imjiosing force of GO, 000 men. The French gained a victory over the Flemings at Furnes, and ob- tained possession of a number of their chief towns. Damme had been occupied by Philip, who was com- pelled to retire before the English forces, and Edward then advanced into the country, making an unsuccessful attack on Bruges, and going into winter quarters at ihent. Here the most deadly quarrels broke out be- tween the English trooiM and the townspeople; and in 1 riot which took place in the town 700 of the English .vore killed. Every effort was made 'ffy the king and 'Jount Guy to repress these tumults ; but the feiid con- tinued withouit abatement, and effectually prevented any combined movements against the enemy. Such was the position of affairs until the spring ot i a-; Vear 129S, when proposals of peace having been made by Philip, they were readily accepted, and the English king retui-ned to his own countrjr. Edward had spent large sums of monej- in this expedition, which had ended in a manner wholly unworthy of his fame and his resources. But the humiliation of the king had not been confined to 'he non-success of his arms ; he was compelled to give lis assent to various reforms introduced by his barons, and to add confirmations of those charters which checked the abuse of arbitrary power. Early in the preceding year the constable of the kingdom, with the earl marshal and many other of the nobles, interposed in defence of the privileges of Parliament, and forbade the officers of the exchequer, in the name of the barons of the kingdom, to collect certain taxes which had been laid on by the king without the consent of the national representatives. The citizens of London were allied with the Ibarons in this measure, and Edward found himself at length compelled to submit. From the city of Ghent, where ho was then staying, he sent instructions to this efiect to the council of regency, somo of whom were known to favour the demands of Parhameut; and at the same place he granted a new confirmation of the two charters, and also of an important enactment, by which it was declared tliat no impost should be levied without the consent of the peers spiritual and temporal, the knights burgesses, and other freemen of the realm. Such concessions as these were not made by Edward without great reluctance, and his annoyance at the restric- tions thus placed ivpon him was clearly shown GOon afltr his return to Englaud. His barons, however, were deter- mined that the statutes should not be evaded,, and a Par- liament having been summoned at York, the king was called upon to give a solemn ratification of the charters he had granted. Edward excused himself at that time under the plea that he was on his way to chastise the Soots ; but he gave his promise to do what was desired of him on his return, and the Bishop of Durham and three barons made oath in the king's name to that effect. On his return from Scotland, Edward met his Parliament at Westminster, which was assembled in March, a.d. 1299. He now endeavoured by every means in his power to gain time, and when closely pressed, he quitted London, as it were by stealth. The barons, however, were not to be thus defeated, and having followed him, and aarged the fulfil- ment of his solemn obligations, Edward found himself compelled to assent, ly an extraordinaiy act of craft, however, he took measures to evade the provisions of the document by adding a clause at the end which destroyed the value of the concession, and subverted the meaning of what had gone before. The cunning of the king had, in t'ns instance, over-reached itself. With few exceptions, tit barons rose up in indignation, and quitted the assembly and the city, with their retainers. Edward now proposcii, as ho had done before, to secure the good-will of the people ; and to this end ho directed the sheriffs of London to call a mooting of the citizens, and to read to them the new con- firmation of tho charters. The people assembled in great numbers in St. Paul's Churchyard, and listened attentively. It appears that they possessed more intelligence than tlio king gave thorn credit for, since, after liaving applauded the earlier clauses, they no sooner heard the last, than they gave every demonstration of indignation, id proved that they fully comprehended its unworthy purport. The king now perceived that the country was unanimc -'«■ cgainst him ; and having called his Parliament once more together, he threw out the obnoxious clause, and granted all the concessions that had been demanded. There was, in fact, no alternative, if Edward desired to maintain his position and authorit}'. But the king by no means intended that his power should be thus permanently curtailed, and he retained the deadliest animosity against those barons to whom he owed his humiliation. One by one these patriot nobles, whom wo may believe to have been the best and most honourable men in the country, found themselves arraigned on various charges, exaggerated if true, but more commonly false, and scivlng only as a pretext for the king's vengeance. By means like these they were de- prived of their estates, reduced to poverty, and in many cases suffered imprisonment or banishment. So far from being reduced to submission by such arbitrary measures, the rest of the barons only conceived a firmer determina- tion to check tho increase of a power which was so un- justly employed. Four years later, the king sent to the reigning Pope, Clement V., to request a dispensation absolving him from the oaths he had taken, and to which he said he had been driven by a traitorous conspiracy. The Pope, however, evaded the request ; .and when the further solicitatioiis of Edward failed to produce a more decided effect, he found A.D. 1303.] REVOLT OF THE SCOTS. 327 himself compelled to respect those gi'auts which he had mnJe law. It is a remarkable fact in English history that concessions so important should havo been wrung from one of the most grasping and warlike of her kings ; and it is certain that, had the resistance of the Scots been loss stubborn, or the attitude of the barons less bold and determined, the peoplo of England would have lost much of tho liberty which they had obtained by the Groat Charter. Philip lo Bel, who was inferior to Edward iu warlike accomplishments, was his equal in craft and cruelty. After the English king quitted Flanders, in a.d. 1297, ho had no opportunity of conducting further measures of importance in that country, which during the suc- ceeding years was overrun by the French troops. In the year 1302, the Flemings rose against their oppressors, and gained a complete victory over them at Coui'trai. That the "rabble of Flemings," as the French called them, should thus overcome the chivalry of France, was a disgrace not to be endured ; but while the nobles were panting for a knightly vengeance, their king was plan- ning a safer and bloodier retaliation. For some time previously Edward had determined to abandon his ally, the Count of Flanders, and to regain possession of Guienne from the King of France by treaty. The Pope was now appealed to, and he proposed an alliance of marriage between the two kings. Edward, who was now a widower, was to marry Margaret, the sister of Philip, and the Prince of Wales was to marry Isabella, the daughter of the French king. Such an alliance had already been contemplated with satisfaction by the nego- tiators. It is true that there were difficulties in the way: Edward had sworn solemnly to marry his son to Philippa, daughter of the Count of Flanders ; he had also pledged his honour that he would never make truce with tho French king without the entire concurrence of his ally. But these obstacles served only to delay the prograss of the negotiations for a few months. Edward broke off his solemn engagements abroad as readily as ho threw aside his oaths at home ; and in September, A.D. 1299, the double marriage took place, the son being contracted to Isabella by proxy at the same time that his father was married to Margaret. A peace between France and England necessarily attended the conclusion of this alliance ; and it was agreed that injuries remaining unredressed on either side should be compensated for, and that the possession of Guienne should be settled by negotiations ; pending which, Phihp gave several towns in Gascony to be held as security by the Pope. In these arrangements, the French king entirely disregarded his alliance with the Scots ; and neither in this treaty, nor at its subsequent ratification, were they in any way mentioned. On tho 20th of May, 1303, the treaty was formally concluded. Edward regained possession of the province of Guienne, and, in return, he gave up the Flemings into the hands of their enraged enemies. A few months later, the French barbarously revenged themselves for their former defeat at Courtrai, by attacking tho Flemish peasants of the district of Lille, and putting them to death in what was rather a massacre than a battle. A year previously. Count Guy of Flanders had fallen into the hands of Philip, by whom the noble old man was subjected to cruelty which soon resulted in his death. Ho died iu his prison at Compeigne at the age of eighty-one. CHAPTER LX. Koifni of Edward I. continued — Claims of the Pope on Scotland — Sec .id Revolt aad Subjugation of that Kingdom— Execution of W Jloeo— 'riiird EcTolt of Scotland under Kobort Bruce— Death of F Xward I. — Estimate of his Character and Services to the Nation. Ha ;ing concluded peace with Franco, Edward imme- dia ,cly turned his attention to Scotland. Notwithstand- inf the decisive victory of Falkirk, and the apparent su render of tho cause by Wallace, tho subjugation of th .t country was far from being effected. There still es sted in every quarter a determined spirit of hostility to the English, kept alive by the memory of tho recent df 'eats, and not less so of the preceding triumphs. In 1300 the king made an incursion into Annandaie, which he laid waste, and received tho speedy submission of Gal- loway. The Scots, who were making zealous efforts to secure assistance fi-om foreign courts, thought it pnident to make a truce, which was ratified in November at Dumfries, and was to continue iu force till'the summer of the following year. Their applications, however, to the continental courts received but little encouragement. Philip of France, as was to be expected after so recent a pacification with the English monarch, rejected their suit. The only person who seems to have responded to their appeal was the Pope Boniface YIII. He wrote a letter to Edward, entreating him to put an end to his ravages and oppressions in Scotland, and adducing a great number of historical proofs of the ancient and un- questionable independence of that kingdom — proofs with which, no doubt, the Scottish envoys had taken care to supply him. With a singular inconsistency, however, the Pope concluded his letter by asserting that Scotland was, in reality, a fief of the Holy See. This claim, never before heard of, and in utter contradiction to the whole tenor of tho Papal brief, called forth the most earnest reply from Edward, who set about and con- structed a catalogue of sovereign claims on Scotland, from the fabled age of Brutus the Trojan, who, he as- serted, founded the British monarchy in the days of Eli and Samuel, down to those of King Arthur, the hero of romance rather than of history ; concluding with the full and absolute homage done by William of Scotland to Henry II. of England; taking care to omit all mention of the formal abolition of that deed by Richard Coour-de- Lion, who had frankly pronounced it an extorted one, and therefore invalid. This royal epistle was seconded by a very spirited remonstrance from 104 barons, as- sembled by tho king's command at Lincoln, who proudly maintained tho temporal independence of both the king- j doms of Scotland and England of tho see of Rom6;\ declaring that they had sworn to defend the king's pre- ' rogatives, and that at no time would they permit them to be questioned. These, or other arguments which do not appear on tho face of histoiy, produced a very sudden revulsion in tho Papal mind. Bonifaco soon after wrote to the Scots, exhorting them to cease their opposition to "his dearly beloved one in Christ," King Eilward, and to seek for- giveness from God for their resistance to his claims. 323 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENOLAXD. [a.d. 1303 Edward, thus sanctioned, again advanced into Scotland in the summer of 1301, whoro ho found tho country laid wasto before him by the politic Soots, and was obliged to take up his quarters, on tho approach of winter, in Lin- lithgow, where he built a castle aad kepi; his Christmas. Another truce was entered into the foUowia.""; spring, and the king then left John do Segrave as his lieutenant in Scotland, at the head of an army of 20,000 men. Early in the year 1303, the Scots having appointed John Comyn regent of the kingdom, ho, with Sir Simon Prazer, not contented with maintaining the independence of tho northern parts, descended into the southern counties, which Edward imagined were wholly in hia power. His general, John do Segrave, marched out to repulse them ; and on the morning of the 21th of February, near Roslin, h-e came up with them. He had divided his army into three sections : the first division, being suddenly attacked by Ooniyn and Sir Simon Frasor, were speedily routed, and in their flight coming in contact with tho second division, throw that also into confusion, which, however, still made a stout resistance, but was eventually also routed, fell back on tho third division, and communicated its disorder to them ; so that the whole force was completely put to flight, and pursued with heavy loss. The English com.- mander himself was taken prisoner, being dangerously wounded in the very first encounter. Sixteen knights and thirtj' esquires were found amongst the captives, in- cluding the brother aad son of tho general. It is reported that the Scots were compelled to slaughter a great number of their prisoners, in order to engage with safety the suc- cessive bands that they came up with. They boasted of thus achieving three victories in one day. The eclat of this brilUant action turned the popular tide at once in their favour. The people everywhere came forward to assist them. The regent very soon made himself master !)f all the fortresses in the south, and once more the country was lost to the English. This sudden and complete prostration of all his ambitious hopes, and reversement of his victories, cifectually aroused the martial king. He assembled a great army, supported by a formidable fleet ; and by rapid marches, at the head of his hosts, he appeared before Roxburgh on the 21st of May, and reached Edinbui'gh on the 4th of June. His progress was marked by the most terrible devastation. He came upon tho devoted country like a lion exasperated by wounds of tho hunters. No foe could be found able to resist him, and he ravaged tho open country, aud laid in ruins the towns and villages, his fleet supplying his de- stroying forces with abundant provisions. Having made a short pause in Edinburgh, to leave all secure there, he again advanced, with desolating speed and vengeance, through Linlithgow and Clackmannan to Perth, and thence to Aberdeen, and so on to Moray. He posted himself in the great and strong fortress of Lochen- dorb, situated on an island in the midst of a Morayshire loch ; and there he remained till the autumn, omploj'cd in subduing and receiving the homage of tho great Highland chiefs. "Tradition," says Tytler, " atill connects the ruins of Lochondorb, after the lapse of more than 500 years, with tho name of the great English king." On his return southward ho met with a stout resistance from the strong castle of Brechin, defended by Sir Thomas Maule, which was only compfll':>d to open its gates to the conqueror after tho death of its valiant commander. The victorious king took up his quarters for the winter at Dunfermline. Ue was careful this timo not to withdraw to England, even during tho inactivity of the season, nor to trust the great charge of a kingdom's safety to any deputy. Hia soldiers are said to have amused themselves during this time in destroying the magnificent abbey of the B.ene- dictines; "a building," says Matthew of Westminster, "so spacious, that three kings, with all their retinues, might have been conveniently lodged there." The lemains of this noble abbey, including tho parish church, still attest its original splendour; and the Scots regarded it with high veneration as tho resting-iilaoo of no less than eight of their ancient kings, and five of their quec:.n. The last remains of the army of Scotland assembled (o defend the castle of Stirling, that being the only strong- hold which now remained in Scottish hands; but they were speedily dispersed by the English cavalry. Soon after this, Comyn, the regent and chief commander of the forces, came in aud made his submission to the royal commissioners at Strathordo, in Fifeshire; and his example was followed by all tho nobility. These, with a few ex- ceptions, as Wishcart, Bishop of Glasgow, Sir John Foulis, tho Steward, and a few othei's, were allowed to retain their lives and lands, subject only to such penalties and terms of banishment as the king might choose to im- pose. During Lent a Parliament was held at St. Andrews, when Sir William Wallace, Sir Simon Frazer, and tho governor of Stirling, wore summoned to surrender them- selves on penalty of outlawry, if failing to appear. All these persons, not even excepting Frazer, accepted tho terms offered to them. The bravo Sir William only refused to put himself into the power of the English king, except on a written assurance of life and estate, signed and sealed ■by the monarch himself; and his caution was at once justified by the event, for the king, on hearing this, cursed Wallace and all who supported him, and set a reward of 300 marks upon his head. The brave patriot had for a time escaped from the snare, and once mora retreated to his hiding-places in the forest of Dunferm- line. Edward now turned his whole attention to the reduction of the castle of Stirling. This royal fortress, placed like an eagle's eyrio on its precipitous rook, was defended bj' one of the most stout-hearted men of Scotland, Sir William (Jliphaut, with the insignificant garrison of 140 men; 5-et, for about three months, that is, from the 22ud of April to tho 20th of July, did I hoy withstand the whole force of the English king. Edward directed all the operations against it in jjorson, and brought a number of engines which throw immense stones and darts upon it. Ho sent to England to collect all kinds of missilea, which were discharged against the place ; but it was not yielded till the garrison was reduced to the extremity of famine, and the building to a mass of ruins. They were then com- pelled to surrender at discretion, for tho ruthless conqueror would grant no other terms ; and tho brave defenders wore obliged to solicit jxirdon and their livess on their knees— all cii'oumstancos of great humiliation. Their lives were given them, but they were sent to the Tower of London and other dungeons. On marching out, it was found that thirteen ladies, wives and sisters of tho gallant officers, had shared the perils -il 'i inlships of tho siege. A.D. 1305.] EXECUTION 01'' WALLACE. 32!) Stirling reduced, there wantod only one other surrender to complete the triumph of Edward — that of Wallace, the man who has made his name and the noblest patriotism synonj'mous to all time. Edward made every exertion, and offered high rewards for his apprehension. One Ualibur- ton, a soldier of the late garrison of Stirling, so far showed his nnworthiiiess to share in the glory of the late siege as to lend himself to this base purpose. Sir William was sur- prised and conveyed to the castle of Dumbarton. There Sir John Monteith was the commander ; and Hume, fol- lowing the traditions of the time, has accused Sir John of having been the betrayer of Wallace, whom ho represents as his friend, and to whom he had made known his retreat. This foul accusation, however, has been clearly refuted by succeeding historians ; and, indeed, it does not appear how tho governor of the castle, in the service of the English king, could be in a position to act the traitor towards him. Tho calumny may have arisen from tho invidious duty which Sir John, as a Scotchman, was under the necessity of performing— that of retaining the prisoner in his charge, and conveying him to London. Sir William Wallace, whose bravery and magnanimi'y deserved a very different treatment at tho hands of a bravo and martial king, was carried to London in chains as a traitor, though he had never acknowledged Edwanl as his sovereign, and owed him no fealty. In Stow, tho London annalist, we can still perceive the sensation which the arrival of this famous warrior as a captive created in the metropolis. Crowds wore assembled to gaze on him. He was conducted on horseback to West- minster by Sir John Segrave, lato governor of Scotland, by the mayor, sheriffs, and aldermen of London, accom- panied by other gentlemen ; and in Westminster Hall he was insulted by being crowned with laurel when placed at the bar, because he had been reported to have said that ho ought to be crowned there. He was condemned as a traitor, and executed, with every circumstance of ignominy, at the -Elms in West Smithfield, on the 23rd of August, 1305. To this place he was drawn at the tails of horses ; and, after being hanged on the gallows, while lie yet breathed, his bowels were taken out and burnt before his face. His head was then struck off, his body divided into quarters, ouo of which was sent to bo exposed at Newcastle, another at Berwick, a thii-d at ■ I'erth, and the fourth at Aberdeen ; his head being stuck on a polo on London Bridge. So much did they in that day fail to perceive the everlasting infamy attendant on the unworthj' treatment of the nobles of our race — the intrepid defenders of the liberties of their country. The barbarous polic}' of the English king produced the very results that he sought to prevent. The whole Scottish nation resented with inexpressible indignation this dis- graceful outrage perpetrated on their national hero. Everywhere the people bm-nod with fury against Eng- land, and were ready to rise .-.t tho call of some surviving patriot. Such a man ■was not long in presenting himseK. Eobert Bruce had not forgotten the words of fire which Wallace had addressed to him across tho Carron as he was in slow and reluctant retreat from tho battle of Fal- kirk. Ho remembered how ho had called upon him to come forth from crouching to tho tyrant ; to come forth i'iom servile submission to a glorious independence ; to remember the royalty of his birth, the dignity of hie family, tho genius and tho energies which God and nature had conferred upon him, and tlje profound re- sponsibility which these had laid him under to hie country. Ho recalled the majestic figuj-e of that illus- trious man as he bade him behold tho glorious prize which Heaven itself had set before him, the most glorious which could possibly be awarded tp man — that of ending tho sufferings of his country; that of converting its groans, its tears of blood and shame, into cries of exul- tation, and of placing his native laud on the firm basis of national independence. The last spur was now given to the spirit of Brace. The words of Wallace to him were now become so many siicred commands. Wallace had declared that while he himself lived, it should only bo to defend the liberties of his people ; and he prayed that his life might terminate when he was reduced to wear the chains of the tyrant. He had been compelled to wear them by treason, and he had perished in his gi-eatness. No indignities, no at- tempted humiliations, could pluck from him the sublime immortality of the martyr — the beautiful halo of a nation's homage. The die was cast for Bobert Bruce. Tho sjiirit of Wallace had fallen upon him ; henceforth ho must spurn the blandishments of the English king, and tread tlio same path to death or victory. And, indeed, Bruce had much to risk as well as to aspire to. His father had remained to the hust attached to the English interests. On his death, in 1304, Edw&rd had fully invested him with all his liereditary rights, titles, and estates, both in England and Scotland. He had all that the most ambitious nobleman could desire, short of the crown itself. For that crown, the host of conflicting and, for tho most part, unworthy competitors had afforded him at least jdausible groiuul for standing aloof and leaning towards tho English power which held them in chock. He had accordingly been honoured when other of tho greatest men of the realm had been fined, mulcted, and punished. He had been entrusted with considerable commands ; amongst others, with the important fortress of Eildrummio, in Aberdeenshire. But now things were come to such a pitch between the Engli.sh king and his country, that there could bo no longer anj- wavering in the bosom of a true man. Edward appeared resolved to r-cduco Scotland to the condition of a conquered jirovincc. If ho .setup a nominal king in place of the imbecile Baliol, it would bo Comyn, whom ho regarded as a traitor. It was time to reveal himself as his country's champion. Edward having once more finished his work of subju- gation, and all Scotland lying prostrate at his feet, ho now set to work about tho important task of so modelling the go^-ernment and administration of the country that it should most completely remain in his grasp as a perma- nent portion of his i-ealm. For this jurposo he appointed a council, so called, of the Scottish nation. This was to consist of two bishops, two abbots, two oarls, two barons, and two representatives of the boroughs, who were to assemble in London, and to sit, in conjunction with twenty commissioners of the English Parliament, to frame a constitution for tho conquered territory. But this council, as was intended, carried things with a hig'a hand against the people of Scotland. It cleared away all the Scottish laws and customs at a sweep, and substi- 330 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1305. tuted English ones in their stead. It destroyed aU ancient monuments which perpetuated the spirit of na- tionaUty. Whatever histories or records had escaped the former search of the king were now ruthlessly dosti-oyed ; and the work of utterly rooting out the Scottish name and institutions was going on, when the whole was sud- denly brought to a stand by a fresh and more determined insurrection. ^ The resolve of Bruce to throw off all disguise and declare himself openly for his country had been accele- rated by the treason of Comyn; and six months had scarcely passed over the bloody reUcs of Wallace when was apprised of his danger by the earl sending him a pair of gilt spurs and a purse of gold, under pretence that he had borrowed them of him. Bruce caught the meaning of the device, and resolved to escape at once. To this pui'pose, tradition says, he had his horse shod back- wards, so as to deceive those who might attempt to trace his route, for the ground was then covered with snow. Bruce arrived safely in a few days at his castle of Loch- maben, in Annandale, the chief seat of his family ; and here he found, fortunately, a great number of the Scottish nobility assembled, and in the midst of them no other than John Comyn, his professed friend, but treacherous, Death of Comyn. the Scots were up in arms again, round the champion he had himself invoked to assume that post. In June, 1305 —two months before the execution of Wallace— it ap- pears that Bruce had made a secret compact with William de Lamberton, the Bishop of St. Andrews, of mutual aid and support. This contract, still preserved in the Annals of Lord Hailes, had for its ultimate object the claims of Bruce on the crown. Comyn had come by some means to the knowledge of this league ; had pretended to join in it, but had betrayed it to the king. Bruce was marked for duo vengeance by Edward, who only waited for an opportunity also to seize his three brothers, resi- 3ent in Scotland. But, through the friendship of the Earl of Gloucester, the son-in-law of the king, Bruce secret foe. If ho had wanted any evidences of the perfidy of this man, he had them now in his pocket; for on the way thither from town he had met a courier bearin!^ letters fi-om Comyn to King Edward, urging the absolute necessity of his instant death or imprisonment. This man he slew, on the principle " that dead men teU no tales, and carry no messages ; " and the fatal secret now in his possession presents us with a certam clue to the motive of a much more startling act which he perpo- trated soon after. The assembled nobles were astonished at his sudden apparition among them ; and, doubtless, much more so was Comyn. Bruce made no secret of his purpose, though the Judas was present. He declared that he was come to A.D. 1305.] WALLACE m WESTMINSTEE HALL. 331 Wallace Crownerl with Laurel in Westminster Hall. CSee page 329.) 33e CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A,D. 1307. live and die amongst them in defence of his country and its liberties ; to wipe from the Scottish namo the shame which it endured from the tyranny of the usurper, and to ■wash it away in the blood of their oppressor. He pointed to the mountains which had defended them from the Romans, and would still defend them from every attempt on their homes and I'ights. He reminded them of the fate of Wallace, and bade them assure themselves that the same fate inevitably awaited them, if they did not scorn to live the life of dogs, or were not determined to diive the implacable tju-ants from the land. Certain that this harangue, which electrified the whole assembly, would be transmitted without delay to London, he followed Oomyn, on the dissolution of the party, into the cloisters of the Minorites at Dumfries, and ran him through the body. Hurrying from the convent, ho cried, " To horse ! " and Sir Roger Kirkpatriok, one of his atten- dants, seeing him greatly agitated, demanded whether the ti'aitor was slain. " I doubt so," replied Bruce. "You doubt!" exclaimed Kirkpatrick ; "I will make sure;" and so saying, he rushed into the monastei'y, stabbed the Comyn to the heart, and killed also his kinsman. Sir Robert Comyn, who strove to defend him. From this ciroamstance the Kirkpatrick family adopted the crest of a bloody hand holding a dagger, and the motto, " I make sicker." The die was now cast. There was no retreat, no re- conciliation after that terrible deed. Bruce called his staunchest friends hastily around him ; they were few, but devoted spirits. The Bishops of St. Andrews and Glasgow, the Abbot of Scone, the four brothers of Bruce, his nephew Thomas Randolph, his brother-in-law Chris- topher Seton, and some ten or twelve young *ien, gathered at the call. Bruce flew in various directions, exciting his countrymen to arms. He attacked and defeated the English, took some of their forts, and drove them from the open country. Edward, on receiving this news, at once prepared to take signal vengeance on the insurgents, and this time to give the nation such a castigation as should effectually quell its spirit. Not waiting for his own slower move- ments, he sent on Aymer de Valence, the Earl of Pem- broke, with a small army, to check the spread of the disaffection. He met with Bruce near Methven, in Perthshire, on the 19th of Juno, and falling on his forces by surprise, ho put them utterly to the rout. Bruce was three times unhorsed in the battle, and escaped with the greatest danger. His friends the Earl of AthoU, Simon Frazer, and Sir Christopher Seton, were taken prisoners and executed. Amongst the prisoners was also his nephew Randolph. His wife and his daughter Marjory hr.ving left the fortress of Kildrumraie, were seized by the Earl of Ross in the sanctuary of St. Duthac, at Tain : the knights who attended them were put to death, and they themselves were sent to England, where they re- mained prisoners eight years. His brother Nigel, much beloved by the people, was compelled to sun-ondor Kil- ./■■immie, and was also hanged and afterwards beheaded Berwick, with many other knights and gentlemen. Ho himself with great difficulty made his escape into the mountains of Atholl, with about five hundred followers, the solo remnant of the aiTuy with which he had hoped to redeem Scotland. For many months he and this little band wandered amongst the hills in the utmost wi'etched- ness, destitute of shelter, and often of food. A price was set upon their heads ; their enemies, the Comyns, infu- riated by the slaughter of their chief, and now in the as- cendant as allies of England, pursued them with vindictive rage, driving them farther and farther into the labyrinth of the hills. On reaching the borders of Argyll, they encountered the Lord of Lorn, who had married an aunt of the Comyn, at the head of 1,000 men, and who occu- pied a narrow defile. A desperate conflict took place, and Bruce and his followers narrowly escaped extermina- tion. Finally, Bruce found means to pass over to the Isle of Rachrine, on the north coast of Ii-eland. Here was a reverse terrible and complete enough tO have extinguished the hopes of all but a true hero. His forces defeated, destroyed, or dispersed ; his wife and daughter captive ; his brother and most of his chief men taken and executed ; himself a fugitive ; the English king still lord paramount in Scotland. All readers are familiar with the story of the spider which Bruce saw in a moment of his deepest depression — a moment when he was nearest to despair, and which rekindled his hope and ardour, by six times failing in its attempt to raise itself to the roof of the hut under which he lay, but accom- plishing its object on the seventh essay. But it is not so generall}' known that such was his distress of mind, and the hardships he endured after the battle of Methven, that ho was affected by a scorbutic disorder, then styled leprosy. Mr. Train informed Sir Walter Scott that Bruce was, according to ti'adition, benefited by drinking the waters of a well about a mile north of the town of Ayr — thence called "King's Ease;" that, in grateful memory of this, and of the immortal hero of his time. Sir William Wallace, he built eight houses for lepers round the well, to whom and theii- successors he left a stated allowance of oatmeal and £28, Scottish money, per annum ; and that this institution remained so long as the family of Wallace existed there, when the property was purchased by the town of Ayr, and its proceeds devoted to the poor. Whatever was the momentary despondency and misery of Bruce, he passed over from Rachrine early in the spring of 1307, in order to make one more effort far the expulsion of the English. His followers, on landing on the Carrick coast, n6,ar his ancestral castle of Turnberry, amounted only to 300 ; and he was there nearly betrayed by the unexplained lighting of a fire upon a hill, the very signal which ho had agreed upon if it were safe to approach. As he drew near the landing-place, he was met by the information that the English were in full possession of Carrick, and Lord Percy, with a strong garrison, held Turnberry Castle. Bruce was thunder- struck at the intelligence; but making a sudden attack on a party of English that lay close at hand, he created a momentary panic, and, under advantage of that, made good his retreat into the mountains. The war became desultory and undecided ; and two of Bruce's brothers, Thomas and Alexander, as they wero bringing over a band of Irish adventurers to his assistance, were taken prisoners by Duncan M'Dowal, a chief of Galloway, and, being conducted to King Edward, were instantly ordered for execution. 3* ' Fortune still continued to pursue Brn"o. He could oaly A.D. 1307.] DEATH OF EDiVARD I. 33i prosoiTO himself by hiding in the hilk and wastes of Galloway, till, ou tho lOtk of May, ho succeeded at Loudon Kill in completely defeating the Earl of Pem- broke. Three days after, he agaiu defeated the English under the Earl of Gloucester, and pursuing them, to tho castle of Ayr, there besieged them. Meantime Edward had been advancing by slow marches northward. Thougli it is not distinctly stated by the historians, there is little doubt that his health was giving •way at the time that he first received the news at Win- chester. Ho had immediately sent off the Earl of Pem- broke, and prepared to follow himself. He knighted his son, the Prince of Wales, with great pomp and ceremony, preparatory to his taking part in the expedition, •who, in turn, knighted, on the 22nd of Maj', 270 young men of noble family. At the feast given on this occasion, in the Palace of Westminster, Edward made a solemn vow to God to avenge the death of Comyn, and punish the insur- gent Scots; and at this time he conjured his son, and the whole company, in the event of his death, to keep his body unburied until this vow was accomplished. Thus ho had the probability of death in his thoughts at the outset of this expedition, and ho advanced in it with tho tardiness of a sick man. While Bruce was spending the winter at Eachrine, he was passing it in severe illness at Lanercost. It was the commencement of July when he arrived at Carlisle, where the news of Bruce's fresh successes, and the defeat and close besiegement of his generals, had the eifect of rousing his irritable tempera- ment to a desperate effort. He threw aside the litter in which he had hitherto travelled, mounted his horse, and having reached, on the 7th of that month, the village of Burgh-upon-Sands, he sank completely exhausted, with his latest breath, and with a tenacity of purpose charac- teristic of the man, enjoining his successor, through the ministers who surrounded him, never to cease his efforts till he had thoroughly subjugated Scotland. Thus terminated this remarkable man his remarkable cai'eer, in the sixty-ninth year of his age, and the thirty- fifth of his reign. Since the days of Richard I. there had been no martial monarch of equal bravery and ability ; since those of tho Conqueror, none who had tlio same genius for civil ad'Miinistration and tho framing of laws and institutions which gavo not only a character to his own times, but to the ages which came after him. Hume does not hesitate to assert that " the enterprises of this prince, and the projects which he formed and brought near to a conclusion, were more prudent, more regularly conducted, and more advantageous to tho solid interests of his kingdom, than those which wore undertaken in any reign, either of his ancestors or successors." How- ever we may be disposed to modifj' this praise in regard to what Edwai'd actually carried out, there can bo no question that his perception of tho vast advantages which would result to every part of tho island from its con- sohdation into one kingdom was evidence of a great and comprehensive genius ; and tho ardour, based on an indomitable spii^it of perseverance, with which he pursued that great end, is equal evidence of a mind, not only of the clearest acumen, but of the loftiest qualities of human nature. He succeeded in winning to the English nation, and amalgamating with it for ever, the princi- . pality of Wales ; and if he failed in effecting tho an- | nexation of Scotland, it was only through being actuated more by tho military spirit of the times than by those moral and political iullucnces which later generations havo discovered to bo the most prevailing. It was be- J'ond tho intellectual horizon of tho age to aim at the union of the kingdoms by the careful demonstration of those greater mutual advantages, and of tho infinitely expanded capabilities of glory and power to Britain, as a whole, ■whiok ■were applied successfully four centuries al forwards. By seeking to accomplish tho union of England and Scotland by tho forces most familiar to tlie spirit of that era — that is, by the power of arms and numerical ascend- ancy — his scheme, grand and beneficent in itself, neces- sarily failed. Tho plaa was premature ; it existed in tho nature of things, but it lacked that philosophical regard to national character and feeling, and that tone of mutual forbearance, which it required centuries yet to ripen. The rudo idea of bearing down a bravo and high-spirited people by armed power and arbitraiy •will necessarily irritated those on whom tho attempt was made ; and it thou became a question of moral forces, and of the natural, defences of tho country, whether it should suc- ceed. It succeeded in Wales, though after a bravo resist- ance, because there was no proportion betwixt tho extent and tho physical resources of the two countries. It failed in Scotland, because tho areas of the two contend- ing kingdoms, though greatly unequal, were yet more approximate ; and because the martial quaUties and spirit of proud independence had been long fostered in Scot- land by the arduous contests of different clans and parties. The Scotch were a hardy and an heroically bravo people, with their magnificent mountains at their back; and, in their struggles with tho ponderous power of Eng- land, discovered an invincible vigour, not only of re- sistance, but of resilience. Though hurled violently to the earth time after time, they rose, Antccus-like, as if with augmented strength and freshness. While tho two nations, therefore, heated by contest and the savage war- fare of that age, learned to hato one another with a vigorous and long-continuing hatred, they learned also to know each other's strength, and inwardly to respect it. Therefore, after tho battle of Bannockburn, English dreams of tho subjugation of Scotland began to wane, ai.d though there still were m'lny and bloody wars be- tween tho two nations, there ceased to exi^t on either side the hope of conquest by more force of arms. In these conflicts, good as well as evil was elicited, and tho bravery and spirit of dominion which distinguish united Great Britain no doubt draw a large .amount of their life fi-om the mutual struggles and rivalries of tho two peoples. lu the very attempts, therefore, of Edward to add Scotland to tho kingdom by force, as ho did Wales, he may bo said to have laid tho foundation of much of the common gi-eatness of the nation ; but from incidental causes arising out of his military attempts, both in Scot- land and France, and still more from his directly con- structive talent and wisdom, we owe to him much which we aro apt to loso sight of in tho blaze of his wai-s and expeditions. He was as remarkable for his sturdy main- tenance of thd laws as for his military ambition. Simple and frugal himself, ho was ever ready to support useful enterprises. Ho was liberal of his treaeui-es on such S34 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1307. oocasioas. Easy and affable to his courtiers and depend- ents, ho was yet severe in restraining licence and punish- ing offenders. His fine person and skill in miUtaiy exercises made him popular -with the people, when he did not press too heavily on them by his expensive wars ; and thus, relying on his sense of justice, they were not backward in expressing their opinions, as we have seen. Though ho was extremely cruel to the Jews — a feature of his character springing from the prejudices of his age — .".nd often forgot the magnanimity of a great monarch in hia resentment against those who successfully thwarted his plans, as in the case of Sir William Wallace and others, his sense of justice in his calmer moments and in his peaceful pursuits was so great that he not only en- couraged an honourable administration of the laws, but he corrected and amended them, and added so many new ones, in accordance with the progress of society, that he has been termed the EngUsh Justinian, Sir Edward aiming at this, ho at the same time allowed them to entail their estates, and thus preserved to them that influence in the constitution of the country which the aristocracy have ever since maintained. He has the honour-, too, of being the first Christian prince who put a stop to the alarming absorption of the landed property of the country by the clergy, setting bounds to it by passing a statute of mortmain. In this, however, he was avowedly actuated by his wish to prevent the diminution of feudal seiwicos and emolu- ments, which became extinguished when lands passt'l from the laity to the Church. But, to compensate tha clergy, he was the first to allow the levy of first- fruits. Far greater, however, were the innovations which this monarch introduced into the British constitution — inno- vations of the mighty influence of which he could form no conception. He was the father and originator of Carlisle Castle. Coke, in his " Institutes," says that the statutes passed in his reign were so numerous and excellent, that they actually deserved tho name of establishments, being more constant, standing, and durable than any made from his reign to the time of that great lawyer ; and Sir Matthew Halo pays him the like compliment, declaring that down to his own day they had scarcely received any addition. He was the first to establish justices of the peace. He repressed robberies, and encouraged trade by giving merchants an easy method of recovering their debts. Ho abolished the office of cliief justiciary, which he thought possessed too much power. He divided the court of exchequer into four distinct courts, each at- tending to its own branch, and independent of any one magistrate, while the several courts became rivals, not checks to each other; a circumstance tending greatly to improve the practice of law in England. The grand obstacle to tho impartial execution of justice in those times was the power of tho groat barons. These despots ho .strove to overawe and restrain ; but while tho Parliament of England. Before his time the barons had met the sovereign to determine on peace or war, and to consent to the raising of the necessary funds. But Edward had occasion to make such frequent and extensive demands on his barons, that ho frequently found them daring to reject his calls for monej', and refusing even his summons to war, as in the case of Bohun, Earl of Hereford, and Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, who positively declined to follow him to his campaign in Planders. Tho obvious means of at once creating a counterbalancing power to this overgrown one of feudal chiefdom, and of replenishing his coffers, was to elevate the peopio of the towns, who had now advanced to a considerable degree of wealth. His father had sought to supply the diminution of revenue and power which had oc- curred from the great feudal barons gradually, by ono means or other, freeing themselves from their obliga- tions, through summoning to Parliament the lesser barons and knights. Henry III. had made it an occa- sional practice to allow these lesser noblesse to choose A.D. 1307.] NEW INSTITUTIONS. m a certain number of their order in each count j' to re- present their whole bodj- ; hence our knights of shires. Edward established this as a fixed and uniform practice, and ho wont further. He had boon obliged, for his expe- dition into Poitou and the repression of the Welsh, to levy no less than a sixth of all t!io movables from the laity, and a moiety of all ecclesiastical benefices. Ho saw clearly this necessity must often recur if ho prosecuted his groat designs of national aggraudisoment, and ho re- solved to summon the representatives of all- the boroughs to Parliament. Here, then, wo have the origin of our House of Commons ; and we come, in this fact, upon ono of the greatest epochs in our national historj'. This great event took place in the year 1295, in the twenty-third year of Edwfti'd I.'s reign, and is a date that should bo for ever memorable. The words of the preamble of the writ, by which this new power in the state was called into existence, are truly remarkable, and indicate a principle of liberal equity in the mind of the king worthy of a British monarch. " It is a most equitable rule," says this document, " that what concerns all should bo approved of by all, and common dangers be repelled by united efforts." But no party whatever had at the time the slightest idea of tho unparalleled importance of this innovation ; of what a tree lay in this small acorn of popular life ; what a colossus in this constitutional embiyo. Tho king, with all his sagacity, did not grasp it in its full Titanic bulk and multiplicity of bearing ; ho was looking rather at his own necessities. The barons certainly did not, or they would have opposed it with all their power. Least of all did the people themselves comprehend tho act which was calling them from the borders of serfdom to become the ruling power in tho nations, the artificers and foster-fathers of tho world's civilLsation. It was to them the new birth from slavery, degradation, and contempt, into life, liberty, and greatness. Yet they shrank from it as a burdensome imposition, a repulsive duty. The people who resided in the country under the great barons still were treated as a very inferior class, and with much of that haughty rudeness and injustice which marked tho earlier ages of Norman feudality. Those who had escaped into towns, and dovotod themselves to trade, had acquired jmany privileges in comparison with those who still tilioi I the soil. They were endowed with liberty to trade ; ! boroughs wore erected by royal patent, in which they were empowered to farm their own tolls and customs, to elect their own magistrates, and were freed from any attendance on tho sheriffs or county courts. But they still bore about with them tho traces of the iron of serf- dom, which for so many ages had entered into their souls. They were rude in dress, in manners, and little en- lightened on matters beyond their own immediate sphere. The people of London, as was seen when Edward at- tempted to impose on them in rogai'd to tho charter, were much in advance of the inhabitants of other towns, who retained a deep sense of their own humility, and a dread of the feirdal lords. . When, therefore, I'eproseutatives were called for from their body to attend Parliament, every one shrank from the appointment. They heard with consternation of their election ; and it was found necessary, says Brady, in his "History of Boroufbs," for the aldermen and co^incils of tho towns to take sureties from ijese deputies of the people for their due attendance. To them a journey to London at that day was a most formidable enterprise, both from tho perils and toils of the way and the great expense. Their charges were therefore borne by the re- spective corporations. Thcj' had so little idea of the honour or benefit of appearing as legislators, that they regarded tho function as destitute of botli profit and re- pute. They knew that they should be looked on with scorn, if not direct insult, by the great lords with whom they had to assemble. And, in fact, these proud men, both barons and knights, disdained to mix with so mean a throng as they regarded them. They compelled them to sit apart ; and theso unlionoured legislators were glad to hasten away and get them home again the moment they had voted the necessary sums. Little were these primeval commoners aware of what they were to grow into ; that within 300 years they would rise to be virtually and avowedly the chief power of the state ; that they would not only hold the purse-strings oi the nation, but would have called before them, arraigned, condemned, and executed the very monarch of tho rcahn on a charge of high treason against the people ; that, having given a fresh trial to this monarch's family, they would, on finding it incurablj' despotic, have driven its representative frcnn the throne, and is-ued a new national charter, under the title of a Bill of Eights, declaring that tho people were tho source of all power. The con- tempt of the aristocracy, compelling them to sit apart, was the deciding cause of their becoming a distinct house — tho House of the Commons; and this House of Commons has risen, in about four centuries and a half — though still too neglectful of its great powers — to the noblest position of any senate whii'h tlie world ever saw, its woids listened to by the proudest kings as most potent for peace or war, and felt in every region of the earth as the hope of the enslaved, the terror of tho despot, the central citadel of civihsation and freedom. Thus, tho English House of CoTnmons can point to a history as glorious as its origin was humble. Tot even in the time of tho first Edward the vigour inherent in the people began to manifest itself in these Ihoir representatives. As the royal necessities con- tinued to increase, and tho king's demands for money and men to become proportionably heavy, tho Commons plucked up courage, and began, though not allowed to legislate, to ijresent petitions of their grievances. To these petitions the king, fi-ora perceiving his de- pendence on tho growing wealth and resources of this class, was obliged to listen with attention and at least external rospeet. Witli his growing difficulties theso petitions became more frequent and more bold in tone. They wore referred to the judges, and, when sanc- tioned by them, were submitted to the king, and fre- quently to tho barons, and eventually became laws. Hero was tho young lion beginning to feel his strength and to put it foith, had the upper classes and the court been able to see it ; but it yet came forward in too modest a shape. This power was next greatly augmented by the knights of the shir-cs being, as a representative and not an here- ditary bod)', removed from the baronial assembly, and by the king appointed to moot with the other reprcsentativo class — that from the boroughs. This common feature of 836 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1307. delegation made the traniition natural and eaay. The knights and country gentlemen made now no scruple to assemble with the burgesses of the towns on this common principle, and all distinction was soon lost in the lower house, which thenceforth assumed a place and dignity worthy of its functions. impose the taxes on their own order. This great king was 500 years in advance of the legislators of the reign of George III., who lost an empire rather than admit the doctrine that there should be no taxation without representation. He not only voluntarily avowed the principle, but immediately acted upon it. The inferior Tomb of Eleanor, Queen of Edward L, in Westminster Abbey. There was another institution which arose simul- taneously with the Ilousn of Onmmons, and from pre- cisely the samo causes, the king's necessities and his admirable sense of political justice. Ho was obliged to levy contributions from the clergy; and he deemed it absolutely necessary that, as a body, they should also fiend up representatives to an assembly of their own to clergy, for the first timo in EngUsh history, therefore, met by delegation as a lower house of convocation. Yet Edward was not so liberal where his own preroga- tive was concerned ; and this reign presents tho narrative of a great contest for the eonfirmatiGn of the Great Charter of the nation, and tho lesser charter, that of tho forests. In both cases, however, the king was compelled to A.D. 1307.J FAMILY OF EDWARD I. S37 give way, and under him tho G;.ta:. Cliarter was finally and fully established. From that day, whatever might be tho arbitrary encroachments on tho liberties of the people, whether it were the erection of tho Star Chamber, im- prisonment by warrants from tho Privy Council, martial law, or practices of a similar stamp, these have always by their )icrnianciit and projjressivo opeialion, mu;lo us in a great ineusiue, as a nation, what we are. Edward had a numerous family by his two wives, but a great many of his children died in their infancy. By his first wife, Eleanor of Castile, Edward, liis heir anC successor, was the only son, out of four, who surv:":'ed -- --- ' - -- ■-■■V' ^ ■ '■'•■»'! I 'I'l'' ' IIj^'--* Mairiaire of Eihvanl II. auil Isabella of France. feeen looked upon as violations of the constitution ; and the validity of the Great Charter as the basis of English government, and the sure touchstone of every act of government, has never since been formally disputed. All these circumstances marked the reign of Edward I. as one of the most important in our history. The organic principles which he introduced into oirr constitution struck deep and indestructible roots there, and have, 29 him. Of eleven daughters by the same queen, four only appear to have lived. Joan was married, first to the Earl of Gloucester, and after his death to Ralph do Monther- mor. Margaret married John, Duke of Brabant. Eliza- beth married first, John, Earl of Ilolland ; and secondly, the Earl of Ilereford. Mary was Abbess of Ambresbury. By his second wife, Margaret of France, ho had a daughter who died in infancy, and two sons — Thomas, created Earl 33C CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.r. 1307. of Norfolk and Maresclial of England; and Edmund, made Earl of Kent by his brotlier, Edward 11. CHAPTER LXI. Edward II.— Weakness of the King— His favourite Gaveston— The Kin'.;'s Marriiig-e with Isabella of France — Gaveston's Death — Losses in Scotland — Battle of Bannoclcburn — Edward Bru'^e attempts to conquer Ireland — Incursions of the Scots under Kobort Bruce. The transition from Edward I. to his sou, Edward 11. , was an abrupt descent from power to weakness. It was one of those striking examples of the extraordinary suc- cession of a feeble son to a great and able father which have puzzled the world to account for, from the days of Solomon and Rehoboam. to our own. In all ranks and 'lepartments of life we are met, in every age, by this lingular phenomenon of men distinguished by jire-eminout genius, and who have made, by tha vigour of their intellectual action, a strong impression on their ago, leaving behind them an enfeebled or commonplace off- spring. In some cases philosophical inquirers have sup- posed this to have been the result of an ill-assorted or ill-cemented marriage, where the union has not been one of soul and affection, but a mere conventional association, yielding imperfect fruit. In others it would seem as if the parent had exhausted, by almost superhuman efforts of mind, the bulk of his mental energy, oven consuming beforehand the portion due to his posterity. Whatever bo the cause, the examples of such deficiency in the sons of such great men are prominent and numerous, and none are more melancholy than the one now before us. The great monarch whoso proud ambition it had been to embrace the whole island in his emjiire, to maintain his possessions in France, and to rule his kingdom by new and superior institutions, was gone, and there appeared on the throne a youth of three-and-twenty, handsome, generous, and agreeable, but destitute of any trait which implied the elements of future greatness. He was not even vigorous in the jiassions which carry youth out of tho direct lino. He had no decided tendency to any dan- gerous vice. He was gentle, and disposed to enjoy the social advantages of his high position. The people of all classes and orders hastened to swear fealty to him, arguing, from the prestige of his parentage, and the reputation of his amiability, a fortunate reign. But the voiy first move- ments of the young king were fatal to those anticipations, and both at home and abroad brought a cloud over tho brilliant visions which had attended his ascension to the throne. He was essentially weak, and all weak things seek extraneous support. The vino and tho ivj' cling to tho tree that is near them, and the effeminate monarch inevitably seeks the fatal support of favourites. This was the rook on which Edward's fortunes instantly struck, and the mischief of which no experience could induce him to repair. This disastrous propensity to favouritism, which early manifested itself, had excited the alarm of tho stern ofd king, and led him to take dscided measures against the evils which it threatened to produce. There was a bravo Gascon knight, who had served in the army of Edward I. with high honour, and whose son, Piers Gaveston, had consequ"ntly boon admitted into the establishment of the young prince. This youth was remarkably handsome and accomplished. He was possessed of singular grace of car- riage and elegance of demeanour. In all the exercises of the age, both martial and social, ho excelled, and was full of tho sprightly sallies of wit and mirth which are so natural to the Gascon. The young prince became thoroughly fas- cinated by him. He was natui-ally disposed to strong and. confidential friendship, and gave himself up to the society of this gay young courtier with all the ardour of youth. His father, quickly perceiving this extravagant prepos- session, and foreseeing all its fatal consequences, had banished the favourite from the kingdom. On his death- bod he again solemnly warned him against favourites, de- picting to him tho certain ruin that such foolish attach- ments would bring upon him in tho midst of powerful and jealous nobles ; and forbade him, on pain of his curse, ever to recall Gaveston to England. But no sooner was the breath out of the old king's body, than the infatuated Edward forgot every solemn injunction laid upon him. Tho Scots were again strong in the field, and tho late king had taken an oath fi'om his son that he should never bo buried till they were once more subjugated. But regardless of this, the young king, after making a feint of prosecuting the Scottish war, and marching as far as Cumnock, on the bordei's of Ayrshire, there halted, and retraced his steps to London without attempting anything^ whatever. Arriving in London, ho at once buried tho body of his father in Westminster Abbey, on tho 27th of October. The only thing for which he appeared impatient was tho return of his favourite Gaveston, whom he had recalled the moment the sceptre fell into his hands ; and the royal summons was as promptly obeyed as sent. Gaveston joined his royal patron before he returned from Scotland. The earldom of Cornwall had been conferred on him before his arrival ; and the thoughtless upstart appeared in the midst of tho court covered with his new honours, and dis- posed to show his resentment for past disdain to the most powerful men of the kingdom. Under the ascendancy of Gaveston, the king displaced all his father's old and ex- perienced ministers. There was a revolution in the great offices of the court, as sudden as it was complete. The chancellor, the treasurer, tho lords of the exchequer, tho- judges, and every other holder of an important post, were dismissed, and others more suited to the fancy or partiality of this favourite substituted. To his own share of honours and emoluments there appeared no limit. The earldom of Cornwall had been held by Edraond, son of Richard, King of the Romans, and was an appanage which had not only been possessed by a prince of tho blood, but was amply sufficient of itself for the maintenance of one. But this seemed little to tho king for tho man whom he deUghted to honour. He was continually lavishing fi'csh honours and riches on Gaveston. Ho handed to him the treasure which his father had laid up for tho prosecution of tho crusades ; ho presented him with estate after estate, many of them conferring fresh titles of distinction ; anci it was said that you could scarcely travel into any part of tho kingdom without beholding splendid houses and parks, formerly possessed by great families, now conferred on tliis young favourite. Nor did the royal bounty stop here. Tlio king gave liira extensive grants of land in Guienne ; and, as if ho would raise him to a par with royalty itself,, he married him to his own-nLece, Margaret de Clare, sister A.D. 1308.] MAEEIAGE OF EDWARD U. 339 to tho Eaii of Gloucostor, and appointed him lord cham- torlain. All this did not soom to satisfy tho king's dosire of heaping honours and wealth upon him ; and he is re- ported to have said that, if it wore possible, ho would give him tho kingdom itself. It would have b^'on strange if the favonrito, under such a rain of favour and fortune, liad displayed more wisdom than his royal friend. It would have recjuirod a mind of peculiar fortitude and moderation not to have been thrown oflf the balance by such a rush of greatness, and Gavoston was not of that character. He was gay, vain, and volatile, and rejoiced in the opportunity of humbling and insulting all who had real claims to superiority over himself. The great and proud nobles who had surrounded the throne of Edward I. in the midst of its victorious splendour, and who had contributed by their counsels and their swords to place it above all others in Europe, naturally beheld with ill-concealed resentment this unworthy concentration This was a contract into which his father had been led in the course of his ambitious projects, and for which he had broken off the previous contract with Guy, Count of Elanders, for his daughter Philippa. It was a marriage projected in cruel perfidy, tho old count being left to the malice of his enemies, and to perish in prison in his eighty- first year, and tho fair, forsaken Philippa, who was really attached to Edwar'l, dying of a broken heart about two years before this ill-fated espousal. Tho results of this marriage wore as disastrous as its arrangement was un- principled. Isabella soon came to entertain a deep con- tempt for and deeper hatred of her husband, and remains branded to all time as the accomplice in, if not the insti- gator of, his murder ; and from this alliance sprung those claims on the crown of Prance, which steeped the soil of that country with blood, and raised an enmity between the two nations prolific of ages of carnage, bitterness, and misery. /3I .V- , .. ., , ^^.-^ "^''o . \ ^-^,--_<^-^^=^'^/ '!M, ■.».-VT7rr ^^^^^M}I■'^'^' ti'icat Seal of EJwai'cl U. of the royal grace and munificence in one so far inferior to them in birth and merit ; and Gaveston, instead of endeavouring to appease that resentment, did all in his power to exasperate it by every species of ostentation and parade of his advantages. Vanity, profusion, and rapacity of fresh acquisition all united in him. He kept up the style and establishment of a prince ; he treated the gravest officers of state and the possessors of the noblest names with studied insolence. Ho imagined that in possessing the favour of the king nothing could again shako him, and therefore he was as little solicitous to conciliate friends as he was careless to make enemies. At every joust and tournament ho gloried in foiling the greatest of the English liobihty and princes, and did not spare them in their defeat, but ridiculed them to his companions with jest and sarcasm. This could not last long without combining the whole court and kingdom for his destruction, and perhaps for his master's. The young king was bound, by the laws of feudalism, to pass over to France, and do homage to Philip for his province of Guienne, and, by those of chivalry, to fulfil, as early as possible, tho contract of marriage with the Princess Isabella, to whom he had been long affianced. Isabella of Franc: was reputed to bo the most beautiful woman of her time, and she was as high-spirited and in- triguing as she was handsome. The royal couple were married on the 28th of January, 1308, with great pomp and ceremony, in tho church of Our Lady of Boulogne, five kings and three queens being present on the occasion. No great alfoction appears to have existed on either side. Isabella could not fail to be already well awiu-e of her husband's character, and she is said to have trusted to he- influence to overturn tho king's favour for Gavoston, an^ to be able to rule him and tho kingdom herself. Edward, though wedded to tho loveliest woman of the age, and sur- rounded by every species of festivity and rejoicing, evinced, on his ixirt, no otlior desu-o than to get back as speedily as possible to his beloved Gaveston, to whom, in his absence, ho had loft the management of tho kingdom— a fresh indignity to his own royal kinsmen. The festal gaieties of the I'^enoh court were suddenly broken olT to graf.fy this imjiatient anxiety of the king to return, and tho royal couple embarked for England, accompanied by a numerous rotinuo of French noblesse, who came to attend the coronation. Gaveston, accompanied by a great array of the English 340 CASSELL'S n,LUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A-D. 1309. aristocracy, hastened to meet the king and queen on land- ing ; and the scene which ensued was by no means calcu- lated to create respect for the king, either in the mind of his young bride, or of her distinguished countrymen pre- sent. Forgetting the very presence of the queen, Edward rushed into the arms of his favourite and overwhelmed him with caresses and terms of endearment. The queen looked on with evident contempt ; her kinsmen with open indignation. The coronation took place at Westminster, on the 24th of February; and this great occasion — which, by judicious management, might have been made a means of uniting all parties, and raising the respect for the king — by his irremediable and utterly blind devotion to his favourite, became a fresh cause of scorn and exasperation. This fatal trait in the monarch appeared rather like the effect of what, in those ages, was called glamour, the spell of some powerful sorcerer, or of witchcraft, cast over an individual to destroy him, than merely weakness or folly. It seemed as if every opportunity was sought, rather than merely employed, to exalt the favourite, no matter at whatever cost, whatever risk, or whatever alienation of men's minds. Gaveston was put foi'ward as the principal person- age — the principal object of attention and worship, to the great insult of the barons and chief men of the realm, all now assembled. He only must carry the crown before the king and queen, though this was an office to which the great Earls of Lancaster or Hereford might have laid | m.ore fitting claim. The nobles were filled with indigna- tion, which Gaveston, instead of endeavouring to disarm by more modest conduct, appeared to take a particular pleasure in aggravating to the extreme. He appeared in the greatest splendour of attire, and in his equipage and retinue outshining them all. In the tournaments which succeeded, he challenged, and by his indisputable vigour and address succeeded in unhorsing, the four most illustrious nobles of the land — men distinguished not only for their high rank, their great estates, and high connections, but ds the successful leaders of the national armies — -the Earls of Lancaster, Hex'eford, Pembroke, and Warenne. This brought matters to a crisis. The anger of the whole nobility now burst forth beyond all bounds. The barons, four days after the coronation, appeared before the king i with a petition which had rather the tone of a remon- ! stranoo, and insisted that he should instantly banish Piers Gaveston. The king, hesitating, and yet alarmed, replied that he would give them an answer in Parliament. "When this Parliament met, it appeared fully armed, and with an air that menaced civil war, if its terms wore not complied with. Lancaster, by far the most powerful subject in England, was the centre and head of this move- ment. He was first prince of the blood ; possessed of immense estates, which were on the eve, by his marriage with the heiress of the Earl of Lincoln, of being increased to no less than sis earldoms, including all those powers and jurisdictions which in that age were attached to land, and made the great noble a species of king on his own estates, and over a great number of influential vassals, many of them being what were called lesser barons and knights. Lancaster was turbulent, ambitious, and haughty. Ho had received the deadliest affronts from Gaveston which a man of his proud character could possibly receive from an upstart, and he therefore hated him with a deadly hatred. This feeling was actively en- couraged by the queen, who, herself inclined to rule, and having hoped to indulge easily this passion for power j through the weakness of the king, saw with keen resent- ment her plans disappointed by the all-engrossing in- fluence of the favourite. The rest of the barons, gladly gathering round Lancaster, and taking courage from the favouring disposition of the queen, resolved to crush the reigning parasite. They bound themselves by an oath to expel him from the kingdom. With his Parliament in this temper, and disturbances and robberies appearing in various parts of the kingdom — possibly fomented by the barons, or at least left unrestrained, as strengthening their cause — the king was compelled to submit to their demands ; and the bishops bound Gaveston hj a solemn oath never again to return to the kingdom under pain of excommunication . The poor weak king, tliough he gave up his favourite for the time, still showed his folly to all the world. He en- deavoured to soften the fall of Gaveston by accompanying him on his way towards the port. But instead of this port leading towards his own country, it proved to be Bristol, where it was soon discovered that he had only embarked for Ireland, over which Edward had appointed him Lord Lieu- tenant, with an establishment rivalling that of a king. Not only so, but before his departure, the infatuated monarch had actually bestowed fi-esh wealth and lands upon him both in England and Gascony. Gaveston, who really possessed much talent and learning, and might have made a distinguished and useful man, had he been employed by an able monarch, who would have called out his better, and kept in check his worst qualities, discharged his duties in Ireland as governor with vigour, repressed a rebellion there, and promoted order. But during the year he was absent his royal master was inconsolable, and never ceased labouring for his return. To this end he employed every means to conciliate the barons. He conferred on Lancaster the high office of hereditary steward ; he flattered and promoted the Earl of Lincoln, the father-in-law of Lancaster ; he heaped grants, civili- ties, and promises on Earl Warenne. Having thus pre- pared the way, he next applied for and obtained from the Pope a dispensation for Ga'veston from that oath which the barons had imposed, that ho should for ever abjure tho realm. With this ho instantly recalled Gaveston from Ireland, and flew with joyful impatience to Chester to meet him on his way. There, on seeing him, he rushed into his arms with every extravagance of joy. He then apphed to the Parliament which had assembled at Stam- t ford, for a formal permission to his re-establishment in I England, and, won over by the gifts and flatteries of the king, they were equally weak, and allowed him to return. All now in the court of the imbecile monarch was re- joicing and festivity. That court was filled by every species of mimes, players, musicians, and frivolous hangers-on. Scotland was all but lost ; every day Bruce and his adherents, taking advantage of the neglect of this unhappy king, wore coming forth more and more openly from their hiding-places, taking fort after fort, and even daring to mako devastating inroads into tho northern lands of England. In other parts of the king- dom outrages, disorder, and violence abounded ; but nothing could rouse the wretched king, or withdraw his A.D. 1311.] CONSEQUENCES OF THE KING'S FAVOURITISM. 341 attention from the court, wliioh was filled with revelry and feasting, and the centre and soul of which was his beloved Gaveston. The people looked on and openly ex- pressed their contempt for the favourite. They refused to call him anything but simply "that Piurs Gaveston," which, incensing the foolish man, induced liim to prevail on the king to put forth a proclamation commanding all men to give him his title of Earl of Cornwall whensoever he was spoken of, which had only the effect of covering him with ridicule. The past experience was entirely lost on this thoughtless personage. No sooner was he freed fi'om the consequences of his insults to the great barons and courtiers than he repeated them with fresh modes of offence. He laughed at and caricatui'od them amongst his worthless associates. He threw his jibes and sarcasms right and left, and let them fall with the vilest nicknames on the loftiest heads. The great Earl of Lancaster was the "old hog," and the " stage -player ; " the Earl of Pembroke — a tall man, of a pale aspect — was " Joseph the Jew; " the Earl of Gloucester was "the cuckold's bii-d; " and the stern Earl of Warwick "the black dog of Ai-- denne." Dearly did the vain favourite rue these galling epithets. The " black dog of Ardenne " swore a bitter oath that the miscreant should feel his teeth. The queen, more and more disgusted and incensed by the folly of the king, not only complained querulously to her father the King of France, but gave all enoouragemoui lo the angry nobles against the insolent Gaveston. The riot at court had its necessary consequence — the dissipation of the royal funds and the need of more.' The barons already, befoi-e voting supplies, had several times obliged the king to promise a redi'ess of grievances. But now, on being summoned in October, 1309, three months after Gaveston's return, to meet at York, they refused, alleging fear of the all-powerful and vindictive favourite. The necessities of Edward made him imperatively renew the summons, but the barons still refused to assemble, and the object of the general odium was compelled to retire for the time. The barons then came together at Westminster in March of the following year, 1310 ; but they came fully armed, and Edward foand himself com- pletely in their power. They now insisted that he should sign a commission, enabling the Parliament to appoint twelve persons, who should take the name of ordainers, having power thoroughly to reform both the government ! and the king's household. The_y were to enact ordinances j for this purpose, which should for ever have the force of | laws, and which, in truth, involved the whole authority of the Crown and Parliament. The committee, instead, how- ever, of being confined to twelve, was extended to twenty- eight persons — seven bishops, eight earls, and thirteen barons. This powerful body was authorised to form asso- ciations amongst themselves and their friends to enforce the strict observance of their ordinances ; and all this was said to be for the glory of God, the security of the Church, and the honour and advantage of the king and kingdom. Thus had the imbecility of the king reduced the nation to the yoke of a baronial and ecclesiastical oligarchy. This ouspicious junto, however, conscious that thoy would be regarded with a jealous eye by the nation, voluntarily signed a declaration that they owed these concessions to the king's free grace ; that they should not be drawn into a precedent, nor allowed to trench on the royal preroga- tive ; and that the functions and power of the ordainera should oxpii-o at the term of Michaelmas the year fol- lowing. The committee sat in Loudon, and in the ensuing j-eor, I 1311, presented their ordinances to the king and Parlia- I ment. Some of those ordinances were not only constitu- j tional, but highly requisite, and tending to the duo ad- I ministration of the laws. They required sheriffs to be men of substance and standing ; abolished the mischievous practice of issuing privy seals for the suspension of justice ; j restrained the practice of purveyance, where, under pre- tence of the king's service, enormous rapine and abuse I were carried on ; prohibited the alteration and debasement of the coin; made it illegal for foreigners to farm the ! revenues, ordering regular payment of taxes into the exchequer ; revoked all the late grants of the crown- — thus amiing a dii-ect blow at the chief favourite, on whom the crown property had been most shamefully wasted. But the main grievance to the king was the sweeping ordi- nance against all evil counsellors, by which not only Piers Gaveston, but tho whole tribe of sycoi)haut3 and parasites were removed from their offices by name, and persons more agreeable to the barons wore put in their places. It was moreover decreed that for tho future all con- siderable offices, not only in the law, revenue, and military goTornmeut, but of t ;e household also — an especial and immemorial royal privilege — should be under the appoint- ment of tho baronage. Still farther, tho power of making war, or even assembling his military tenants, should no longer be exercised by the king, without the consent of his nobility. This was a wholesale suppression of the jirerogatives of the crown, which the barons dared not have attempted in any ordinary rei;^n ; but this would probably have littl-e affected Edward had not Piers Gaveston been declared a public enemy, and banished from the realm, on pain of death in case of his ever daring to return. Nothing can show more decisively that l^dward was not merely weak, as it regarded his favourite, but was totally unfit to rule a kingdom, having no serious feeling of its rights or dcsii-o of its prosperity, than the fact that ho signed all those deeply important decrees with a secret protest against thom, moaning to break them on the first opportunity; that ho sent Gaveston away to Flanders, intending as soon as possible to recall him, and tho mo- ment he was freed from tho demands of Parliament, he set out to tho north of England, pretending a campaign against the Scots. Once at liberty, he recalled Gaveston, declai-ed his punishment quite illegal, restored him to all his honours, employments, and estates, and the two dear friends continued at Berwick, and on the Scotch borders, doing nothing to resist the advances of Bruce. Tho barons now broko all measures of restraint. Pro- voked to exasperation by seeing tho whole of their labours at once set aside, and the ruinous favourite restored to his whole fortune in defiance of thom, they united in a most formidable conspiracj'. At tho head of it appeared his old enemy Lancaster ; Guy, Earl of Warwick, "tho black dog of Ardenne," entered into the alliance, according to one historian's expression, with " a furious and .nrocipi- tate passion." Humphrey Bohun, Earl of Hereford, tho constable, tho Earl of Pembroke, and oven the Earl Wareune, who hitherto had supported, on most occasions. 342 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1312. the royal cause, now joined zealously in the confuJeracy. Winclielsey, Archbishop of Canterbury, led on the clergy, ■who declared themselves in a body against the king and Gaveston. Such a coalition was able, at that time, to shake the throne itself. Lancaster, at the head of an army, marched hastily to York, -whence the king made a precipitate retreat to Newcastle. Lancaster made a keen pursuit, and Edward had only just time to get on board a vessel at Tynemouth, and escape to Scarborough with } is minion. There Edward left him to defend the castle, his countess somewhere in the neighbourhood, left him under a feeble guard. Pembroke, who was under oath, having thus on plausible grounds retired, Warwick, " the black dog of Ardenne," who had vowed to show Gaveston his teeth, now appeared upon the scene. He made a show of attacking the castle ; the garrison refused to defend it — no doubt being well informed of the part they were to play — and in the morning tlie unhappy favourite was ordered suddenly to dress and descend into the court. There he found himself, to his consternation, in tha ^''"■«^*i^RF)''P IMwanl II. while he again sot out for York to endeavour to raise a body of troops. Aymer de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, whom Gaveston hud ridiculed as " Joseph the Jew," laid brisk siege to the castle, which was in bad condition, and Gaveston, on the 19th of May, 1312, was obliged to capitulate. Both Pembroke and Lord Henry I'ercy pledged themselves that no harm should hajjpen to him, and that he should be confined in his own castle of Wal- lingford. But, with all the boasts of chivalry, no great faith was to be reposed in such promises in those times, and they marched him away to the castle of Dedington, near Banbury, whore I'cmbrolte, on pretence of meeting presence of the grim and vengeful Warwick, accompanied by a strong force. By his orders he was set on a mule and led to Warwick Castle with great triumph. His arrival there was announced by a burst of military music ; great wore the acclamations and triumph at seeing tho long-detested favourite thus in their power. A council was speedily formed, at which Lancaster, Hereford, Ai-undel, and other barons assisted. Some one ventured to propose gentle measures, and to shed no blood, but a voice from one of the party present exclaimed, "You have caught the fox ; if you let him go, you will have to hunt him again." That hint decided Gaveston's fate. A.D. 1 ■■)'.- EDWARD TT. 34» yurpriso of Edinburgh Oa&llo. 344 CASSELL'S ILLUSTBATED mSTOEY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1312. The certaiaty that the king ■would on the first possible occasion reinstate his favourite, and that their own lives might fall before his vengeance, determined them to put him to der.th, in disgraceful violation of the articles of capitulation, but in accordance with the ordinance passed by Parliament for his exile. Gaveston now stooped from his haughty insolence at the approach of death, and prayed for mercy from the Earl of Lancaster. It was useless ; his enemies hurried him a-way on the road towards Coventry, and there, at a mile or more distant from the castle, on the 1st of July, 1312, they struck off his head on a rising ground called Blacklow Hill, where the Avon winds through a pleasant scene, suggestive of anything but such a tragedy. The king, as was to be expected, was thrown into violent grief at the news of the bloody death of his beloved friend. He roused himseK to something like energy; vowed deadly vengeance on all concerned, and proceeded to raise and march troops for the purpose. The barons stood in arms to receive him, and for the remainder of the year they maintained a hostile attitude, but fought no battle. The king's resentment, as evanescent as his tetter purposes, then gave way ; the barons consented to solicit his pardon on their knees ; and this protended humility flattered him into compliance. The plate and jewels of Gaveston were surrendered into his hands, and he was implored to confirm their deeds by proclaiming the late favoui-ite a traitor. Here, however, Edward stood firm; he not only refused, but declined also to confirm the ordinances they had passed. But they had accom- Jilishodthe great object of destroying the ha.ted favourite, and therefore were the more willing not to press the king too closely on other points. All classes in the nation now began to cherish hopes that they might be led to chastise the Scots, and to win back, if possible, the brilliant conquests of Edward I. For seven years the feeble and inglorious Edward II. had now suffered the loss of his great father's acquisitions in Scotland, and the reverses and disgraces of the English arms to remain unavenged. Occupied with the sooietj- of his favourite, the effeminate pleasui'es of the court, and the consequent contentions with his barons, he had allowed Bruce to proceed, with all the activity and resources of a great mind, to reassure the people of Scotland, retake the castles and forts, and strengthen himself at all points against attack. He had gradually risen from a condition the most perilous and enfeebled to one of great strength. His soldiers now held every stronghold except that of Stirling ; and the governor of that last remaining fortress, by the permission of Bruce himself, appeared in London to inform the king that he had stipulated that if the castle wore not relieved by the feast of St. John the Baptist, the 24th of June, it should be surrendered. Thus the reign of this weak monarch was the rescue of Scotland. Had not this spiritless king interposed between two su:'h monarchs as the Edwards First and Third, it is iin,)ossible to suppose that Scotland could have main- tained its independence. But, with the golden opportunity of an incompetent enemy. Providence had also sent Scot- land one of the greatest men which it ever produced. Eobert Bruce, driven to seek refuge in the most inac- cessible wilds and mountains during the dominion of Edward I., and even piu-sued there by some of his own countrymen, such as the Lord of Lorn, and the relatives of the Eed Comyn, no sooner saw the incapable ruler who had succeeded the " Hammer of Scotland," as Edward I. is styled on his tomb in Westminster Abbey, than he seized every favourable opportunity for regaining the castles and strongholds from the English. As fast as ho mastered them he laid them in ruins, lor he could not afford garrisons to defend them, and ho knew that the feeling of the countrj' was with him. In the spring of 1308, the year following the death of Edward I., Bruce appeared to be sinking under the effects of the hardships and exposures which he had endured, combined with the almost superhuman exertions he had long made. He was in such a state of dehibty that his life was despaii-ed of. Yet an English force under Mow- bray, an Englishman, and John Comyn, Count of Buchan, having approached luverury, in Aberdeenshire, Bruce caused himself to be lifted fr-om his bed, and held by two men on his horse, and in that condition charged and. routed his enemies. What might not be expected from resolution Hko that! Castle after castle fell into his hands. Aberdeen and Forfar were surprised the same year and razed. In 1309 and 1310 truces were entered into, but badly kept on both sides. In the autumn of that year Edward made an expedition into Scotland, but could not find an enemy, Bruce and his followers having adroitly disappeared, and, as Edward described it in a letter to the Pope, hidden themselves after the manner of foxes. But no sooner had Edward returned to London the following July, than Bruce actually pui'sued in the track of his armjr, and laid waste Durham. Eeturning laden with spoil, he next besieged and took Perth in Januarj-, 1312. He then made another excursion into the north of England, burned the towns of Corbridge and He.xham, in Northumberland ; afterwards destroyed a great part of the citj- of Durham ; then marched u^jon Chester and CarHsle, and was only induced to return to his own country b}' a payment of £8,000, raised in the four northern counties. On the Vth of March of that year the important castle of Roxburgh was surprised and taken by Lord James Douglas. This was the same James Douglas who in 1307 had surprised his own castle of Douglas, which was held by Lord Clifford. He had contrived to get in on Palm Sunday, when the soldiers were in church. Having cut them to pieces, he and his followers found onlj' a few soldiers in the castle cooking the dinner. They ate the dinner, and finding great stores for the garrison, threw them on a heap in the middle of the floor, knocked out the heads of the wine barrels, slew the soldiers, flung them on the pile, and so set fire to the castle, casting dead horses into the well to spoil it. The castle being restored by the English, Douglas again took and destroj-ed it, and vowed that he would thus avenge himself on any one who took possession of his house. There is a romantic but true story of a great and very beautiful heiress in Eng- land, who told her lovers that she would accept the man who would defend this castle of Douglas, now called Perilous Castle. This enterpise a brave young officer. Sir John Wilton, undertook, and maintained the castle for some time ; but at length was lured out by a strata- gem of Douglas and slain, a letter of the lady being found in his pocket. A.D. 1314.] DARING CONDUCT OF THE SCCIJ. Tho manner in which Douglas surprised several of the most formidable castles of Scotland has all tho wonder of romance about it. The castle of Roxburgh, which now fell into his hands, was only five miles from the English border, numerously garrisoned, and vigilantly watched, from the siu-prising successes of the Scots of late against such places, and Douglas was known to bo in the neigh- bourhood. It was a holiday again, as at Douglas Castle ; not now Palm Sunday, but Shrovetide. The soldiers were carousing, but had taken care to set watches on the battle- ments. An Englishwoman, the wife of one of the officers, was sitting on the battlement with her child in her arms. She was looking out over the fields below, when she saw somo black objects creeping along near tho foot of the tower. Tho sentinel to whom she pointed them out said, " Pooh, they are only black cattle." So the lady sat still, and in a while began to sing to her child — " Husli ye, liusli ye, little pet ye ; Husli ye, hush ye, do not fret ye ; The Black Douglas shall not get ye." " Tou are not so sure of that," said a voice close beside her, and at the same time she felt her arm grasped by an iron glove, and, looking round in aflright, she saw a tall, dark, powerful man — the Black Douglas himself. Another man was at tho moment coming over the wall near the sentinel; this was one Simon Lcdehouse. The sentinel perceiving him rushed at him with his lauce, at the same time shouting an alarm. Ledohouse put aside the lance, and struck down the sentinel with his dagger. The Scots now came pouring pell-mell over the walls, and the castle was taken ; but the Douglas protected the woman and child. StiU more remarkable was the surprise of the castle of Edinburgh only a week afterwards. Any one who has seen tho lofty precipice on which this castle was situated would regard the scaling of that cliff as next to impos- sible, especially while a strong garrison was watching above. Tot this was done by Thomas Randolph — that same Randolph, the nephew of Bruce, who was taken prisoner at the battle of Methven, and who had now become Earl of Moray, and afterwards was regent of the king- dom. Randolph was informed by a man of the name of Francis that, in his youth, he had frequently descended, when a soldier in the garrison, by a secret path, to visit a girl that he was in love with in the Grass Market. He offered to show Randolph the way, who at once resolved to make the attempt, though a more perilous one could not be conceived, for if discovered by the garrison above while ascending the cliff, not a man of them would be left alive. The brave Randolph selected thirty men for tho enter- prise, and came to the foot of the cliff on a dark night. Francis led the way ; and a perilous way they found it — "a path," says Sir Walter Scott, " fi.tter for a cat than a man." A falling stone, or a word uttered, would have alarmed the watchmen, and brought instant destruction upon them. They, therefore, were obliged to creep on with the utmost caution ; and when they had nearly reached the castle wall they could hear the guards going their rounds, and were obliged to lie close to escape attention. And hero they were startled by a man suddenly throwing a stone fiom the wall, and crying out, ' ' Aha ! I see you well." They behoved they were discovered, but lay firm, and close, while tho stone thundered down over their heads, and passed on. One movement, and they had booa utterly destroyed, for tho guard, only by throwing stones down, must have killed every one of them. But they were chosen as men who wero prepared for anything. They lay quiot as the rocks themselves. The English soldier, as it proved, only did it in joke to alarm his com- rades, and they, knowing that, all passed on. Then Randolph and his bravo men, headed by Francis their guide — who proved himself a stout soldier — and Sir Andrew Grey, speedily fixed thoii- scaling ladders to the walls, which at that place were only about twice a man's height, sm-prised, and very easily destroyed the garrison, who, except the sentinels, were asleep and unarmed. By such daring courage, and by a variety of stratagems, tho strongest castles fell rapidly into their hands. Dum- fries, Butel, Daiswinton, and Linlithgow swelled tho list. The last was taken by tho assistance of a farmer of tho name of Binnock, or Binny, who used to supply the gar- rison with hay. This man concerted with tho soldiers, his countrymen, that he should cut his soame — a yoke which fastened the horses to the cart — just as his loaded cart was in the gateway, and then crying, "Call all, call all !" the soldiers should rush in, as they did. While Douglas, Randolph, and their heroic compeers were thus performing the most surprising feats of daring and of heroism, Bruce, who had now an effective army, marched to every point of tho country where the enemy was to be found, defeating and chasing them away. Ho did not neglect to make a visit to the north, to tho country of the Comyns, who had pui-sued him with peculiar ani- mosity on account of his killing their relative, the Red Comyn, and who had joined tho English with aU their forces. Robert Bruce now ravaged theu- district, and slew them remorselessly, as tho enemies of their countiy, causing more than thii-tj' of them to be beheaded in ono day, and thrown into a pit, culled ever after " The gravo of the headless Comyus." Neither did ho forget John of Lorn, who had joined with tho Comyns and tho English, and had hunted him with bloodhounds. lie penetrated iuto the very heart of Argyll, Lorn's country, beset him in the mountains, and was very near securing Lorn himself. He managed with difficulty to escape in a boat; but King Robert did not suffer his country to escape, for he bestowed a large portion of it on his own nephew. Sir Colin Campbell, and thus founded the gi-eat duoal family of Argyll. Thus it came at last to the ]iass that, as we have described, tho English had only the castle of Stirling left in all Scotland ; and Sir Philip Mowbray, after a bravo defence, had agreed to deliver that up if not relieved by a certain day. He had, as we have said, arrived in London with this message. Perhaps oven such a message as this, full of national disgrace, might not have moved Edward out of his epicurean listlessness, but it aroused the nobles. They exclaimed unanimously that it would be an eternal shame thus to let the great conquest of Edward I. fall out of their hands without a blow. It was therefore resolved that the king should lead an army to the rescue. A royal summons was issued for all the military force of England to meet the king at Berwick on the 11th of -346 CASoELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1314. JHine, 1314. The most -warlike of the British subjects from the French provinces -were called forth ; troops were enlisted in Flanders; the Irish and Welsh were tempted in great numbers to Edward's standard by hopes of plunder ; and altogether an ai-my of not less than 100,000 men, including 40,000 cavalry— 3,000 of -n-hom, mun and horse, -were clad in complete armour — assembled. A large fleet attended to act in concert -with the army ; and at the head of this mighty force the king took his -way to-wards Edinburgh, advancing along the east coast, and thence along the right bank of the Forth to ■Stii-ling. Robert Bruce, -who had been lying before Stirling a-waiting the result of Sir Philip Mowbray's mission to London, now saw that the fate of the kingdom must bo •decided on or near that spot. His army was much inferior to the English one in numbers, amounting to between 30,000 and 40,000 men. But then they were tried -troops, fighting for the very existence of their country, and under such leaders as Robert Bruce, Randolph, and Douglas — men whom they had followed into exploits almost miraculous. The English army was far better armed and provided, except in one particular, and that the most essential of all — ,a commander. Instead of that, instead of a man of courage, experience, and sagacity, they had a timid, effeminate puppet ; and where so much depended on the commander-in-chief — even more than at the present day — that single circumstance was fatal. Bruce made preparations for the decisive struggle with his usual ability. He had collected his forces in the forest called Torwood ; but as he knew tho superiority of the English, not merely in numbers, but iu»their heavy- armed cavalry (far better mounted and equipped than his own) and in their archers (tho very best in the world), he determined to provide against these advantages. He therefore led his army into a plain on the south side of Stirling, called the New Park, close beneath which tho English arnij' would be obliged to pass through a swampy country, broken up with watercourses, while tho Scots stood on firm, drj' ground. AVith this morass in front, and the deep, woody, and broken banks of the little rivulet of Bannockburn on his right, so rocky that no troops could pass them, he took care to secui'e the more assailable ground on his left bj' digging a great number -of pits, about knee-deep, which he covered with brush- wood, and over that with turf, so as to look like .solid grassy ground. In those pits he is said by some writers to have fixed pointed stakes. Tho whole groiind, says Barbour, the poetical chronicler, was like a honej-comb with the holes. Besides this, Bruce sought to disable the English cavalry by sowing tho front of the battle-field with those cruel, three-pointed steel spikes called caltrops and crow-feet, which lamed and disabled the horses which trod upon them. Bruce then divided his forces into four divisions. Of these he gave the command of the right wing, flanked by the Bannockburn, to his brother Edward ; of the loft, near Stirling, to Randolph, who was posted near the >churoh of St. Ninians, and had orders at all risks to pre- vent the English throwing succours into the city ; Sir James Douglas and Walter the Steward commanded tho centre ; and Biuco headed the reserve in the lev.v, con- sisting of the men of Argyll, the islanders, and his ovra vassals of Carrick. Douglas and Sir Robert Keith, mareschal of the Scottish army, were dispatched by King Robert to take a -view of the English forces, now approaching from Falkirk. They returned saying the vast host approaching was one of the most beautiful and terrible sights imaginable ; that the whole country appeared covered with moving troops ; and that the number of banners, pennons, standards, flags, all of different kinds, made so gallant a show, that the bravest and most numerous army in Christendom might be alarmed to behold it coming against them. It was Sunday, and Barbour describes it as so bright that the armour of the English troops made the country seem all on fire. Never had England sent forth a more mag- nificent host, and nover did one approach the battle-field with more imposing aspect ; but the Lion-heart of the arm}-, the terrible " Hammer of Scotland," was no longer there. As the army drew in sight, Edward sent forward Lord Clifford with SOO horse to endeavour to gain the castle by a circuitous route, hidden by rising grounds from Bruce's left wing. They had ah-eady passed tho Scot- tish line when Bruce was the first to descry them. "See, Randolph," he cried, riding up to him, "there is a rose fallen from your chaplet — 5-ou have suffered the enemy to pass !" Randolph made no reply, but rushed upon Clifford with little more than half his number. The English wheeled round to charge and to encompass the little band of Soots, but Randolph drew them up back to back, and they defended themselves valiantly. Douglas, who saw tho perilous position of Randolph, asked to be allowed to ride up to his relief. " No," replied the king, " let Randolph redeem his own fault." But the danger became so inimiueut, that Douglas exclaimed, " So please you, my liege, I must aid Randolph ; I cannot stand idle and see him perish." He therefore rode off with a strong detachment, but seeing, as he drew near, that the English were giving wa\', he cried, " Halt! Randolph has gained the day : lot us not lessen his glory by apjiroaching the field." A noble sentiment, for Randolph and Douglas were always striving which should rise the highest in the nation. Meanwhile, tho van of the English army approached the front of the Scottish host; and thej' beheld King Robert mounted on a small palfi'ey instead of his gi'eat war-horse, for he did not expect tho battle that evening. He was riding up and down tho ranks of his men, putting them in order, with a steel battle-axe in his hand, and a helmet on his head surmounted with a cro-wn of gold. Some of tho bravest knights of tho English army rode out in fi'ont, to see what the Scots were doing ; and Bruce also advanced a little before his own men to take a nearer view of them. Sir Henry Bohun, an English knight, mounted on a heavy war-horse, armed at all points, thought this an excellent opportunity to ear* great renown, and put an end to the war at a stroke, by killing Robert Bruce. He therefore charged furiously upon him, trusting with his lance to bear him to the ground, poorly mounted as he was. King Robert awaited him -with the most profound composure ; and, as he di-ew near, sud- denly turned his pony aside, so that Bohun missed him with the point of his lauce, and was in the act of being A.D. 1314.] THE BATTLE OF BANNOCKBUHN'. 347 earned past him by his horse. Robert Briico, rising in his stirrupe as the knight -was passing, dealt him such a blow on the head with his battlc-axo, that it broke to pieces his iron helmet as if it had been a nutshell, and hui'lcd him dead to the ground. The English knights, astonished at the act, retired to the main body ; and King Robert's friends blamed him for exposing himself and the safety of the army to such risks : but he himself only continued to look at his weapon, saying, " I have broken my good battle-axe." The ne.xt morning the battle began in terrible earnest. The English, as they approached, saw the Abbot of In- ohaffray walking barefoot through the Scottish ranks, and exhorting the soldiers to fight bravely for their free- dom. As he passed thej' knelt and prayed for victory. King Edward, seeing this, cried out, "See! they kneel down; they are asking forgiveness!" "Yes," replied the bold Baron Ingeh-am de UmphravUle ; "but they ask it of God, not of us ; these men will conquer or die upon the field." The main body of the army, under the conduct of the king himself, advanced in a long, dense column upon the Scottish lino ; but they failed to break it by the shook, and repeated renewals of the charge told more sensibl}' on the assailants than on the assailed. The English were broken at every fresh collision ; the Scots stood like a range of rocks. Every part of the Scottish army was brought into play, while the majority of the English never came in contact with the enemy. The brave Ran- dolph led up the left wing to the support of the assaulted centre, till he appeared surrounded and lost in an ocean of foes. On the other hand, the Earls of Hereford and Gloucester made a fierce charge of cavalry on the right wing, commanded by Edward Biiioe, but were received by those treacherous pitfalls, in which their horses were overthrown in confusion, and the riders, falling in their heavj' armour, were unable to extricate themselves. Dreadful then was the slaughter ; and amongst the rest Gloucester, the king's nephew, not wearing his armorial bearings, and not, therefore, being recognised, was cut to pieces in the melee. The English archers poiu'ed their arrows thick as hail upon the main body, and might, as at Falkirk, have decided the day ; but Bruce, having calculated on this, sent Sir Robert Keith, the mareschal, with a small body of horse, to take them in flank ; and as the archers had no weapons for close quarters, the Scottish horsemen, dashing headlong among them, cut them, down in great numbers, and threw them into total confusion. Meanwhile Douglas and the Steward encouraged their men in the centre by their valiant deeds and the confidence in their gi'eat fame, and the battle became general along the whole Scottish line. The moment in which Bruce saw that his detachment of horse had disordered the archers, he advanced with liis reserve, and the whole Scotch front pressed upon the already hesitating English. At this critical moment an event occurred which decided the vic- tory. Bruce had posted the servants and attendants of the Scottish camp behind a hill in the rear of the army. Some writers give him credit for planning what took place, and assert that he had furnished them for that ]nirposo with banners, to represent a second army. Others, and amongst them Sir Walter Scott, attribute the appear- ance of those men simply to observing that their army was evidently gaining on the foe, and were therefore eager to have their share of the victory and ths booty. Be this as it may, suddenly the English saw a body of men coming rapidly over the hill, ever since culled the Gillies', or Servants' Hill, from this circumstance. Supposing this to be a fresh army, they at onoo lost heart and broke, while Bruce, raising his war-cry, rushed with new fury against the failing ranks. The king was the first to put spurs to his horse and fly. A valiant knight. Sir Giles de Argentine, who had won great renown in Palestine, assisted the king out of the press ; but he then turned, saying, " It is not my custom to fly" — a keen reproof to the cowardly monarch, if he could have felt anything but fear — and dashing, with the cry of " Argentine ! Argen- tine !" into the thickest of the Scottish ranks, was killed. The fugitive king tied to the gates of Stirling Castle, and entreated admittance ; but the brave Sir Philip Mow- bray reminding him that he was pledged to surrender the castle if it were not relieved that verj' day, Edward was obliged to fly through the Torwood. Douglas was already pressing hotly after him ; and meeting with Sir Lawrence Abernethy — a Scottish knight hitherto in the English, interest, and even now on his way to the English army — he carried the not unwilling knight and his twenty horse- men along with him. Douglas and Abernethy pursued the king at full gallop, and never ceased the chase till they reached Dunbar, sixty miles olT, where Edward narrowly escaped into the castle, stiU held by an English ally, Patrick, Earl of March. Thence the king escaped by a small fishing skiff to England, leaving his splendid army, a great part of it to utter destruction. 50,000 of the English were said to have been killed or taken prisonei's, and the remnant of the army was pursued as far as Berwick, ninety miles distant. Of those who fell there have been said to be twenty-sovca barons and bannerets, including Gloucester, a prince of the blood, 200 knights, 700 esquires, and 30,000 of inferior rank. Twenty-two barons and bannerets were taken, and sixty knights ; and an English historian has asserted, that if the chariots, baggage wagons, &c., that were taken, loaded with military stores and booty, had been drawn out in single lino, they would have reached sixty leagues. Besides this, the ransom of so many distinguished men was a grand source of wealth to the victorious army. Tho losses of the Scotch were comparatively tri's-ial, Sir William Vipont and Sii- William Ross being tho only persons of note slain. Such was the decisive battle of Bannookburn, which has ever since been celebrated in song and story as one of tho proudest triumphs in Scottish history. It at once estab- lished the independence of Scotland. "The English,'' says Sir Walter Scott, " never before or afterwards, whether in France or Scotland, lost so dreadful a battlo as that of Bannookburn, nor did tho Scots ever gain one of the same importance." Bruce was at once elevated from the condition of an exile, hunted by his enemies with bloodhounds like a beast of the chase, and placed firmly on the tlu-one of his native land — one of the wisest and bravest kings who ever sat there. The moral efiect of this battle was almost magical. Stirling Castle was at once surrendered, according to stipulation. Bothwoll Castle, in which the Earl of Hereford had shut himself 348 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF EXGLAND. [a.d. 1315. up, soon after yielded to Edward Bruce, and Hereford was exchanged for the wife, sister, and daughter of the King tf Scots, who had been detained eight years iu England, as well as for the Bishop of Glasgow and the Earl of Mar. The triumphant Scots m.arched into England, ravaged Northumberland, levied tribute on Durham, -wasted the country to the very gates of York, and going westward, reached Appleby in Westmoreland, whence they returned home laden with spoil. The English -wera become thoroughly demoralised by their great overthrow, and numbers fled at the approach of the merest handful of Scots. " day of vengeance and of misfortune ! " says the monk of Malmesbury ; ' ' day of disgrace and perdition ! unworthy to be included in the circle of the year, which tarnished the fame of England, and enriched the Scots ■with the plunder of the precious stuffs of our nation to the extent of £200,000 " — nearly three millions of our money. Encouraged by this panic, the Scots made fresh incur- sions that autumn and the following summer, but re- ceived, ultimately, some checks at Carlisle and Berwick. But, perhaps, more than from this, the security of Eng- land was purchased by the ill-fortune of Ireland ; for in May, 1315, the Irish, taking also advantage of tbe reverses of England, invited Edward Bruce to come over, drive out the English, and become their king. Edward Bruce caught at the offer with avidity, for he was fond of battle and adventure, and ambitious of fame and power. He ■was brave but rash. He took over 6,000 men, and was joined by several of the Irish chiefs on landing at Carrick- fergus. The Scots fought with various success, and pene- trated far into Ireland. In the following spring, Edward I'ruce was crowned King of Ireland in Ulster, and Kubert lU'Uce also went over to support his claim with fi'esh forces, making the Scottish army about 20.000 men. Eor another year the two brothers continued their adventure, marching on Dublin, to which the citizens set fire, and laid waste the suburbs, so that they wore obliged to move on. They marched south in hope of receiving co-operation from the Irish of Munster and C'onnaught, but were dis- appointed, and involved in imminent danger from an English army of 30,000 men at Kilkenny. The English, meantime, seized the opportunity of the absence of the King of Scots, and made fresh inroads into Scotland. This compelled his speedy return, when, in March, 1318, he made himself master of Berwick, and revenged himself on the Euglish by again marching into their northern counties, taking the castles of Wark, Har- ■bottle, and Mitford in Northumberland ; and in a second raid in Yorkshire burning Noithallerton, Boroughbridge, Scarborough, and Skipton, bosiiles levying 1,000 marks on Papon, and carrying off much booty. But ill-fortune soon overtook his brother Edward in Ireland, where he had left him. He engaged Sir Piers de Birmingham at Fagher, near Dundalk, and -n-as left de.ad on the field, with 2,000 of his soldiers. The efforts of the Scots for three years to ■erect a kingdom in Ireland thus vanished for ever, leaving •scarcely a trace. Sir Piers de Birmingham presented the head of Edward Bruce to the King of England, who made bim, ic recompense, Earl of L*uth. These reverses of the Scots excited Edward of Caernarvon to ono more effort for the recovery of Scotland. He as- .sembled .a numerous force, and besieged Berwick on the 7th of September, 1319, both by sea and land. It made a I vigorous i-esistance ; and Randolph and Douglas, to create ' a diversion, invaded the western marches with a force of IJ.OOO men. They made a push for York, to secure the queen, but failed. They then committed dreadful ravages iu Yorkshire, and were encountered by an undisciplined mob led on by the Archbishop of York and the Bishop of Ely. This rude assemblage they routed at Mitton, on the Swale, and slew about 4,000, chiefly peasants, but amongst them 300 churchmen with surplices over their armour ; whence this battle, in allusion to so many shaven crowns in it, was called the Chapter of Mitton. Edward at length raised the siege of Berwick, and marched to intercept the Scots, but not before they had bui-nt and destroyed eighty- four towns and villages, and done incredible damage. On the approach of the king they warily withdrew, and fi.nished their successful raid by a truce for two years. CHAPTER LXII. Edward II, continued — Edw.ard's new Favourite, Despenser — -War in consequence with the Barons — Lancaster beheaded — Queen Isabella and Mortimer — The Queen commences W^r against her Husband — The Fall of the Spensers— The King dethroned— His dreadful Death — Destruction of the Templars, Sucn had been the fortune in war of the son of one of the greatest commanders that the English ever saw on the throne; such was the condition to which the weak- ness and cowardice of Edward II. had reduced the king- dom. The Scots insulted and harassed him on one side, the Welsh on the other ; and the haughty barons, taking advantage of his fallen fortunes, sought to raise their own power on the ruins of the throne. Thej- came forward again boldlj- with their ordinances, and Edward -n-as com- pelled to submit to them. Lancaster was set at the head of the council, and introduced a totally new set of officers of the crown. The government offices, they declared, should be filled from time to time by the votes of Parlia- ment — that is, of the barons. So far from these new rulers endeavouring to expel or humble the Scots, it was believed that Lancaster was in secret alliance with them ; and this afterwards was proved to be true. Acting this traitorous part, Lancaster pretended to keep up a hostile show against the Scots, but ho took care that all attempts against them should fail. Edward was clearly totally unfit to govern a kingdom. He had neither abilities to conduct the affairs of peace or I war ; and he was of that unhappy character of mind which never derives any benefit from experience. The misery which he had brought upon himself by his foolish fond- ness for Gaveston, and the destruction brought upon the favourite himself, had not the least effect in preventing him falling into the same error. Soon after the death of Gaveston he conceived the same singular and indomitable attachment to Hugh lo Despenser, or Spenser, a young man of ancient descent, and in the service of the Earl of Lancaster, who, in his changes of office, had placed him about the court. This second fatal attachment involved the remainder of the reign of Edward in perpetual strife and trouble, and precipitated his terrible end. This young Despenser, the new favourite, had all the graces of person and the accomplishments which had bewitched the king in Gaveston, but he had advantages which never belonged to the Gascon — those of birth, A.S^ iSlo.J BANNOCKBURN. ?49 ao 350 CASSELL'S .ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1322. i-ank, and connection. His father was a noble of ability and experience, liigblj' esteemed for his wisdom, bravery, and integrity through his past life. But theso things availed nothing ■with the indignant barons, who suddenly saw the young man and his father advanced over their heads. They withdrew sullenly from court and Parlia- ment, and sought an opportunity to make their resent- ment felt by both the king and his minions. This oppor- tunit}', with a monarch like Edward, could not be long wanting. He began the same reckless course of heaping honours and estates on the younger Sponsor. As he had married Gavoston to his own niece, sister to the Earl of Gloucester, ho now repeated the very act as nearly as ch'cumstances would i^ormit him, and married Spenser to the sister and one of the co-heirs of the late Earl of Gloucester, who was killed at Bannockburn. He thus put him, in his wife's right, in possession of vast estates, including the county of Glamorgan and part of the Welsh marches. The father also obtained great possessions, for, in spite of his reputation for wisdom, his sudden advance- ment to such large opportunity appeared to have awakened in him a boundless rapacity. The king immediately fol- lowed up these gifts by seizing, at the instigation of young Spenser, on the barony of Gower, left to John de Mowbray, on the plea that it had reverted to the crown through Mowbray's neglect of feudal usage on entering into possession. This was exactly the sort of occasion for which the barons were on the watch: the whole marches were on flame; civil war was on foot. The Earls of Lancaster and Hereford flow to ai-ms. Audley, the two Rogers de Mortimer, Roger do Clifford, and many others, disgusted, for private reasons, with the Spensers, joined them. The lords of th^ marches sent a message to the king, demanding the instant banishment or imprisonment of the young iavourite, threatening to renounce their allegiance, and to punish the minister themselves. Scarcely waiting for an answer, they fell on the lands of both tho Spensers, pillaged and wasted their estates, murdered their servants, drove away their • cattle, and burned down their castles. Lancaster having joined them, with thirty-four barons and a host of vassals, this formidable force marched to St. Albans. Having bound themselves not to lay down their arms tiU. they had driven the two Spensers from the kingdom, they sent a united demand to the king for this object. Edward assumed constitutional grounds for his objection to this demand. The two Spensers wero absent — the father abroad, the son at sea ; and the king declared that he was restrained by his coronation oath from violating the laws and condemning j)ersons unheard. Timid at tho head of au army, Edward was always bold in defence of his favourites. These pretences weighed little with men with arms in their hands. They marched on London, occupied tho suburbs of Holbom and Clerkenwell; and a Parliament having assembled at Westminster, these •irmod remonstrants delivered in a charge against the two Spensers of usurping the royal powers, of alienating tbo mind of tho king from his nobles, of exacting fines, and appointing ignorant judges. By menaces and violence they carried thoir point, obtaining a sentence of attainder and perpetual banishment against tho two obnoxious courtiers. This sentence was pronounced by tho barons Tlono, for the commons wore not even conaixltedj and the bishops protested against so illegal a proceeding. The- only evidence which theso turbulent barons gave of their remembrance of the laws, was in requiring from tho kino- a deed of indemnity for their conduct; and having got this, thoy disbanded their army, and retired, highly de- ■ lighted with their success, and in perfect security, as they imagined, to their castles. But they had in reality been too successful. The force put upon the authority of tho king was so outrageous, and it reduced all respect for it to so low au ebb, that the barons and knights in their own neighbourhoods be- came totally regardless of public decorum towards the royal family. Even the queen, who had always endea- voured to live on good terms with the barons, and who detested tho young Spenser as cordially as they did, could not escape insult. Passing the castle of Leeds in Kent, in reality a crown property, but in the keeping of the Lord of Badlesmero, she desired to spend the night there, but admittance was refused her; and some of her at- tendants, insisting on their royal mistress being admitted to what might be called her own house, were forcibly repulsed and killed. The queen instantly complained, with all her quick sense of indignity, to the king ; and Edward thought that now he had a splendid opportunity of vengeance on his haughty barons. He for once as- sumed courage, and displayed a spirit which, if it had been permanent and uniform, would have made him and kept him master of his throne and prerogatives. He assembled an army, fell on Badlesmere, took him prisoner, and inflicted severe chastisement on his followers. The insult to the queen had excited the indignation of the people against the barons, and completely justified the proceedings of the king. Thus suddenly finding himself on the high tide of public approbation, he at once declared the acts of the barons void, and contrary to the tenor of the Great Charter. He showed surprising activity in col- lecting forces and calling out friends in different parts- of the kingdom. He recalled the two Spensers. They had only been banished in the mouth of August ; in October thoy were again on English ground. The king- marched down upon the quarters of the lords of the marches, who were thus suddenly taken unawares, while isolated in fancied security, and incapable of resistance. He seized and hanged twelve knights of that party. Many of the barons endeavoured to appease him by sub- mission, but their castles were taken possession of, and their persons imprisoned. Lancaster, alarmed for his safety, hastened northward,, and now openly avowed his league with Scotland so long, suspected, and called on the Scots for help. This wa» promised him under tho command of the two greax champions of Scotland— Randol[ih, now Earl of Moray, and the Douglas. But these not arriving, Lancaster set out on his march, and was joined by the Earl of Here- ford and all his forces. Their army, however, did no': equal that of the king, which numbered 30,000 men. Lancaster and Hereford posted themselves at Bui'ton- upon-Trent, hoping to keep back the royal forces by ob- structing the passage over the bridge ; but in this they failed, and hastily retreated northwards, hoping daily for the arrival of tho promised aid from Scotland. At Boroughbridge, on the 16th of March, 1322, thoy wero intercepted by a force under Sir Simon Ward -ind Sir A.D. 1323.] EXECUTION OP LANCASTEE. 351 Andrew Harclay, who occupied the bridge and tho op- posite banks of the river. In fear of the pursuit of tho king's army, the two barons endeavoured to force tho bridge, but were stoutly repulsed; Hereford was killed, and Lancaster, who in his terror had lost all power of commanding his troops, was seized and conducted to tho king. No greater contrast could be exhibited by two com- manders than was shown on this occasioa by Hereford and Lancaster. Hereford, determined to force the bridge, charged on foot ; but a Welshman, who had discovered that the bridge was in a very decayed state, and fall of holes, had concealed himself under it, and through one of these holes he thrust a spear into the bowels of the brave earl, who fell dead on the spot. Lancaster attempted to find a ford over the river, but the archers of the enemy poured in showers of arrows upon him. Night put a stop to the battle, and in the morning he was taken. Lan- caster had in his day a great reputation for piety. " He was," says Eroissart, "a wise man and a holy; and he did afterwards many fine miracles on the spot where he was beheaded." Hume has painted this nobleman as violent, turbulent, and hypocritical ; and attributes his reputation for piety to the monks, whom he favoured, and who were his historians. But there is nothing in his public conduct which may not assume the character of patriotism, for he fell, as he had lived, in endeavouring to resist the mis- chievous practices of the king in regard to his favourites. He was a prince of the blood, and, by his position and the rights of the Charter, bound to support the constitu- tion which the king was continually violating in his un- bounded partiality to his minions. In conformity with his character, Lancaster, on being surrounded, retired into a chapel, and looking on the holy cross, said, " Good Lord, I surrender myself to thee, and put me into thy mercy." He had no mercy to expect from Edward, who remembered too well the indignities which his beloved Gaveston had received at the hands of the earl and his associates at his execution, and who now resolved to have ample revenge. About a month after the battle, he convoked a court martial at the earl's own castle of Pontefract, where he himself presided, and where as a traitor, having made league with Scotland against his rightful sovereign, Lan- caster was condemned to be hanged, drawn, and quartered. He was clothed in mean attii-e, set upon a sorry jade of a horse, with a hood upon his head, and in this manner h(j was led to execution on a hill near the castle, the king's officers heaping all kinds of insults upon him, and the populace, whom he had greatly incensed by his calling in the Scots, pelting him with mud, and attending hir^^ with outcries and curses. In his life and death Lancaster bore a striking resemblance to the Earl of Leicester, the leader of the barons in the reign of Henry III. Besides the two leaders of this revolt, five knights and three esquires were killed in the battle, and fourteen bannerets and fourteen knights bachelors were hanged, drawn, and quartered. Amongst those who were executed were Badlesmere — who had insulted the queen — Gifford, Barnot, Cheney, and Fleming. Many were thrown into prison, and others escaped beyond the sea. "Never," says an old writer, " did English earth at one time drink so nuoh blood of her nobles, in so vile a manner shed as this." But not only was this vengeance taken on the persons of the insurgents, their vast estates were forfeited to tho crown, and tho people soon beheld, with inex- pressible indignation, tho greater portion of those immense demesnes seized upon by the younger Spenser, whoso rapacity was insatiable. In a Parliament held at York, the attainder of the Despensers was reversed, the father was created Earl of Winchester, and both he and his son enriched by the lands of the fallen nobles. Edward was as totally uncurod of his folly as ever. Harclay, for his services, received the earldom of Carlisle and a largo estate, which he soon again forfeited, as well as his life, for a treasonable correspondence with the Scots. But tho rest of the barons of the royal party receiving little, woro the more incensed at the immense spoils heaped on tho Sponsors. The king's enemies, on the other hand, vowed vengeance on both monarch and favourite, and tho people regarded him with more determined envy and hatred than ever. Thus Edward, falling the moment that he was successful into his hopeless failing of favouritism, not only lost every advantage he had so completely gained, but hastened by it tho day of retribution. The nobles who had escaped to France, there set on foot a dangerous conspiracy. Amongst these was the younger Eogor Mortimer, one of the most powerful barons of the Welsh marches, who had been twice condemned for high treason, but receiving a pardon for his life, was detained in the Tower, where his captivity was intended to bo perpetual. Making his guards drunk with a di'ugged liquor, he escaped, and now joined these conspirators, all smarting from their sufferings on account of the favourite, and many of them from his usurpation of their castles and lands. Everything favoured these conspirators. At home, the young Spenser, as little instructed by past dangers as his master, seemed to grow every day more arrogant ; and an expedition against the Scots, Uko all the expeditions of this king against that people, proving a failui'e — fol- lowed by the usual inroads of the Scots, in one of which they nearly took the king prisoner, and in which they wasted the country to tho very walls of York — created deep discontent and national irritation. Sensible of the lowering aspect of things in Prance, Edward, at length, after a war of three-and-twenty years, fruitful in disaster and ruin, now concluded a truce with Scotland for thirteen years. In this truce he did not recognise the title of Pvobort Bruce to the crown ; but Bruce, who had made good his claim to it, who had repelled all the attacks of England on his country, given it a great overthrow at Banuockburn, and on various occasions carried tho wai into England, satisfied himself with these substantial advantages. Fortified on this side, Edward still did not sit secure. Soon after the treaty he was startled bj' a plot to cut off tho elder Spenser, and then by an attempt to release tho prisoners taken at Boroughbridgo fi-om their dungeons. This failed ; but tho conspiracy in Franco grew, and cir- ciunstances favoured it. Charles le Bel, the brother of Edward's queen, now on tho throne, having, or protending, causes of complaint against Edward's officers in the pro- vince of Guienne, overran that province with his arms, and took many of his castles. Edward apologised, and offered to refer tho causes of quarrel to the Popo ; but 352 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1325. Charles took advantage of his brother-in-law's difficulties, and endeavoured to deprive him of his French territories altogether. Edward sent out his brother, the Earl of Kent, to endeavour to negotiate matters, but without effect; and Isabella, who had long wished to quit the kingdom, now prevailed on the king to let her go over and endeavour to arrange the business with her brother. Edward fell into the snare ; the queen found herself in Paris, and the centre of a powerful band of British mal- contents. One common principle animated the queen and the refugees of the Lancaster faction, and bound them together — hatred of the Spensers. The queen had come attended by a splendid retinue — for she came not only as Queen of !gngland and Princess of France, but in the character of an ambassador. Publicly, therefore, she was received with every honour ; and, publicly, she ap- peared to be negotiating for a settlement of her royal husband's difficulties ; but as the mode of solving them, she conceded that he should come over in person and do homage for his provinces. This proposal, which asto- nished both the king and the whole court, was strenuously resisted by the younger Spenser. He well knew the feelings entertained by the queen towards himself; and therefore would, on no account, trust himself in Paris ■with her. But to allow the king to proceed there alone was as full of danger. The king might there fall under the influence of some other person ; and at home his own position would be a most dangerous one during the king's absence, surrounded as he was by universal hatred. The king had advanced as far as Dover, where, no doubt, at the persuasion of the Spensers, he stopped, and, on the plea of illness, declined to proceed any further. Foiled in this scheme, Isabella hit upon another, which was that Edward should make over Guienne and Ponthieu to his son, who then could go instead of his father, and perform the requisite homage. This was more easily fallen into by the king, because it suited young Spenser by keeping the king at home. Edward resigned Guienne and Ponthieu to his son, now thirteen years old ; he went over, did his homage, and took up his residence with his mother. The plot now began to unfold itself palpably. The queen was not only surrounded by a powerful body of English subjects hostile to their king, but she had the heir to the throne in her possession, and she determined never to return to England till she could drive young Spenser thence, and seize the reins of power herself. When, therefore, the homage being completed, Edward urged the return of his wife and son , he received at first evasive answers, which were soon followed by the foulest charges against him by his own queen. She complained that Hugh Spenser had alienated the king's affection • from her; that he had sown continual discord between .them; had brought the king to such a feeling against her, that he would neither see her nor come where she was. She accused the Spensers of seizing her dower, and keeping her in a state of abject poverty and dependence, and that, beyond all this, they had a design on the lives of both herself and son. The king put forth a defence of liimself, but nothing could clear him from the charge of having grossly neglected the queen for his favourites, or of having most thoroughly merited her contempt and aversion. But whUe the queen was doing the utmost to disgrace and ruin her husband, her own conduct was notoriously scandalous. During the life of the Earl of Lancaster, she appears to have leaned very much on him for counsel and support ; but now the Lord Mortimer was becom& the head of the Lancastrian party, and therefore neces- sarily was thrown daily into her society. Mortimer was handsome, brave, of insinuating address, and sufficiently unprincipled. The affairs of the party brought them into almost perpetual contact, and intimacy speedily ripened into intrigue and criminality. Very soon the position of the queen and Mortimer was universally known. They lived in the most avowed intimacy, and when Edward, made aware of it, insisted on Isabella's immediate return, she declared boldly that she would never set foot in England tUl Spenser was for ever removed from the royal presence and counsels. This public avowal won her instant and great popularity in England, where Spenser was hated, and threw for a while a slight veil over her own designs. An active correspondence was- opened with the discontented in England; the vilest calumnies were propagated everywhere against the king, and this disgraceful family quarrel became the common topic of all Europe. The King of France, from motives of policy, declared himself highly incensed against Edward for his treatment of his sister, and even threatened to redress her wi'ongs. He still protected her, even after her open connection with Mortimer; though both himself and his two brothers had thi-own their wives into prison for irregularity of conduct, where the wife of his brother Louis had been strangled. But though Charles probably never seriously intended to take any active measures on behalf of Isabella, Edward was greatly alarmed, and not only sent, in the name of Spenser, rich presents to the French king and. his ministers, but also wrote to the Pope, earnestly im- ploring him to command Charles to restore to him his- wife and son. This letter to the Pope was strongly backed, according to Froissart, " by much gold and silver tO' several cardinals and prelates nearest to the Pope." The interference of his holiness afforded a sufficient plea for Charles to withdraw all countenance from Isabella, and even to command her to quit the kingdom. To save- appearances, therefore, Isabella quitted Paris, and betook herself to the court of the Count of Holland and Hainault. That this was a step by no means disagreeable to Charles- le Bel, is obvious from the fact that the count was his own vassal, and suffered no remonstrance for this recep- tion of the English queen. The partisanship of the count was of the most decided kind. The queen, the more in- dissolubly to engage him in her enterprise, affianced her son Edward, the heir to the English throne, to Philippa, his second daughter. The brother of the count, John of Hainault, became a perfect enthusiast in the cause of Isabella, who, still young — only eight-and-twenty years of age — and eminently beautiful, seemed to inspire him with all tho chivalrous devotion of the most romantic ages. He declared his fall faith in Isabella's innocence of all impropriet}', with the spectacle of her intimacy with Mortimer daily before his eyes ; and he was deaf to all warnings of danger from the jealousies of the English, who, he was assured, were especially disgusted bj'' the interference of foreigners. By this alliance, and the secret A.D. 1326.1 EXECUTION OF DESPENSER. 3o3 assistance of her brother, the King of Franco, Isabella soon saw herself surrounded by an army of nearly 3,000 men. Edward, roused by the, imminent danger, endeavoured to prepare measures of defence. But the danger was far more extensive than appeared on the siu'face. Conspiracy did not merely menace fi'om abroad, but penetrated every day deeper, and into the very recesses of his own family. His brother, the Earl of Kent, a well-meaning but weak prince, who still remained on the Continent, was per- suaded by Isabella and the King of Franco that it behoved every member of the royal familj' to join in the attempt to rid the Idngdom of the Sponsors ; and this, they assured him, was the object of the expedition. Won over to what appeared so desirable an attempt, ho also won over his •elder brother, the Earl of Norfolk. The Earl of Leicester, tho brother and heir of the Earl of Lancaster, had abundant motives of interest and vengeance for entering into the design. The Archbishop of Canterbury and many of the prelates approved of tho queen's cause, and aided her with money ; several of tho most powerful barons were ready to embrace it on her appearance on the EngUsh coast ; and tho minds of the populace were embittered against the king by the industrious dissemi- nation of calumnies and injurious truths. Isabella set sail from the harbour of Dort with her little army, accompanied by the Earl of Kent; and on the 24th of September, 1326, landed at Orwell, in Suffolk. . She was soon joined by the Earls of Norfolk and Leicester ; thus receiving the high sanction of two princes of the blood ; the Bishops of Lincoln, Ely, and Hereford met her with the sanction of the chiu-ch and numerous forces. The fleet had been won over and kept out of the way, and the land forces sent against her at once hailed the young prince with acclamations, and joined her banner. Isabella made proclamation that she came to free the nation from, the tyranny of the Sponsors and of Chan- cellor Baldoo, their creature. The iarons, who thought themselves secure from forfeiture in coalition with the. prince, made a reconciliation with the barons of the Lan- castrian faction, and the people poured in on all sides. Never was a miserable monarch so deserted by his people, and by his own blood. His wife, his son, his brothers, 'his nobles, his prelates, his people, all were against him. The queen and prince stayed three days in the abbey of the Black Monks at Bury St. Edmunds, where their partisans continually increased. Meantime, the miserable king appealed to the citizens of London to maintain the royal cause, and issued a pro- clamation offering £1,000 to any one for the head of Mortimer^a pretty sum, equal to £10,000 at the pre- sent day. The appeal remained totally unheeded; and Edward fled from his capital, accompanied only by the two Sponsors, Baldoc the chancellor, and a few of their retainers. Scarcely were they out of the gates when the populace rose, seized the Bishop of Exeter, whom the king had appointed governor, beheaded him, and threw nis body into tho river. They met with and killed a friend of tho favourites — one John le Marshal. They mado themselves master of tho Tower, and liberated all the state prisoners — a numerous body, most of them suffering from the attempts to put down young Spenser^ and they entered into an association to put to death without mercy every one who dared to oppose the queen and prince. Such was tho fury of the jiopulace against the king and his favourite ; and this spirit appeared iu every part of tho kingdom. Tho poor, forsaken king fled to tho "Welsh, amongst whom ho was born ; but they would nono of him, and he was compelled to take to the sea with his favourite. The elder Spenser was left in Bristol as governor of the castle ; but the garrison mutinied against him, and on the ap- proach of the queen ho was delivered up to her. The poor old man, now nearly ninety, was brought before Sir William Trussol, one of the Lancastrian exiles, who, without allowing him. to utter a word in his defence, con- demned him to death. He was taken without tho walls of the city, hanged on a gibbet, his bowels torn out, his body cut to pieces, and thrown to the dogs ; and, as he had been made Earl of Winchester, his head was sent to that city, and stuck on a pole. Such was the fate of this old man, who had borne a high character through a long life, till strange fortune lifted him aloft, and developed iu him the lurking demons of rapacity and lust of his neighbour's goods, ending thus dirofully. Tho unhappy king, meantime, with the son of this old man, endeavouring, it was supposed, to escape tu Ireland, had been tossed about for many days on a stormy sea, which seemed to enter into the rebellion of his people, and to reject him, and cast him up, as it were, on the coast of South Wales. His flight had furnished tho barons with a fortunate plea for deposing him. They first issued a proclamation at Bristol, calling on the king to return to his proper post ; and, as he did not appear, on tho 26th of September, forming themselves into a Parliament, they declared that tho king had left the realm without a ruler, and appointed the Prince of Wales guardian of the kingdom. The king, on landing, knowing what he had to expect, hid himself for some weeks in the mountains near Neath Abbey, in Glamorganshire. His place of re- treat was very soon known, and young Spenser and Baldoc were seized in the woods of Lantressan, and immediately afterwards Edward came forth and surrendered himself to the Earl of Leicester, the brother of Lancaster, whom he had beheaded at Pontefract. Without a single sign of sympathy or commiseration from high or low, the wholly- abandoned king was sent off a prisoner to Kenilworth. Short and bloody work was mado with the favourite. Trussel, the same judge who had condemned his father, condemned him to be drawn, hanged, embowelled, be- headed, and quartered ; and the sentence was carried into execution with revolting minuteness. He was hanged on a gaUows fifty feet high, and his servant, Simon Eeding, was hanged on the same gallows, only a few yards lower. The Earl of Arundel, allied to the Sponsors by marriage, and one of those active in the death of tho Earl of Lan- caster, was beheaded, with two other noblemen. Baldoc, as a priest, was exempt from the gallows ; but, being sent to the Bishop of Hereford's palace in London, he was there seized by tho enraged populace, as, probably, the senders foresaw, and, though rescued, died soon after in Newgate of his injuries. So terminated the fortunes of Edward's few adherents. His own fate, steeped iu still deeper horrors, was fast hastening on. A Parliament — one of those solemn mockeries which we often see in history — was summoned in tho king's 854 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1327. name to meet at Westminster on the 7tli of January, ' 1327, to condemn the king himself. There Adam Orleton, Bishop of Hereford, one of the most violent partisans of the queen and enemies of the king, assumed the office of speaker. The very appearance of such a speaker indicated plainly — had aU other circumstances heen -wanting — the determination of the barons to proceed to extremities with Edward. Orleton, for his attachment to the party of Lancaster, had been deprived of the temporalities of his see by the king, as supposed, at the instance of Hugh Spenser, and he had on every possible occasion since dis- played the most vindictive animus against the king. He had spi-ead everywhere with indefatigable activity the filth of the court scandal respecting Edward, and this nent historians have appeard to discern the malice of his enemies rather than impartial grounds of complaint. They say that, notwithstanding the violence of his oppo- nents, no particular cause was laid to his charge, ^frue, those which were loudly enough proclaimed by the public of a scandalous nature were omitted, probably out of respect to his son, who was present during the whole proceedings. But what they did charge him with were incapacity for government, waste of time on idle amuse- ments, neglect of business, cowardice, being perpetually under the influence of evil counsellors, of having by imbecility lost Scotland and part of Guienne, with arbi- trary and unconstitutional imprisonment, ruin, and death of different nobles Berkeley Castle. might have passed for religious zeal in one of his profession and rank in the church, had he not winked as resolutely at the notorious vice of the queen. But he was one of her most energetic partisans in England ; hastened to meet her on landing ; and in the Parliament, and -every- where amongst the barons, when it had been proposed to allow the king to be reconciled to his family, and rule by advice of his nobles, had effectually quashed such sen- timents, and turned the tide of opinion for the king's deposition. lie now put the formal question, whether the king should be restored, or his son at once raised to the throne. For appearance sake the members were left to deliberate in their own minds on the question till the next day ; but there could only be one answer, and that was for the father's dethronement. The public, on hearing that decision, broke forth into loudest acclamations, which were vehemently reiterated when the young king, a boy of fourteen, was presented to them. By a singular informality. Parliament deposed Edward first, and judged him afterwards. Five days after declaring the accession of Edward III. a charge was dra-wn up against him, in which some emi- Surely these, if not all crimes, had all the political effect of crimes on the nation. They were fraught -with mischief, public discord, and decay, and must bo regarded as ample grounds for deposition. In fact, the whole kingdom was weary of the incurable king ; not a single voice was raised in his behalf; and on the 20th of January a deputation was dispatched to announce his deposition to him at KenUworth. This deputation consisted of certain bishops, earls, and barons, -with two knights from each shiro, and two representatives from each borough. The most glaring feature of harshness in the selection of the deputies was, that the spiteful Adam Orleton, and the savage Sir WilHam Trussol, who had passed such barbarous sentences on Edward's friends the Sponsors, were amongst its leading members. At the sight of Orleton the king was so shocked that he fell to the ground. The interview took place in the great hall of Kcnilworth, and the king appeared -wrapped in a common black go-wn. Sir William Trussel, as speaker, pronounced the judgment of Parliament, and Sir Thomas Blount, the steward of the household, then broke his white staff of nflficr, and declared all persons discharged and freed fr'^-". .^uUvard's A.D. 13'?7.] DEPOSITION OF EDWAED n. 355 Deposition of Edward II. (See page 354.) 356 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OF ENGLANTD. [A.D. 1327. service, the ceremony being the same as practised on a king's death. On the 2-lth King Edward III. was pro- claimed, it being declared to be by the full consent of the late king ; on the 2Sth the young monarch received the great seal from the chancellor, and re- delivered it to him ; and on the 29th he was crowned at Westminster by the Archbishop of Canterbury. The extreme youth ©f the king enabled Queen Isabella, his mother, to have the chief power of the crown vested in her. But her unconcealed connection with the Lord Mortimer made her very soon lose the popularity which her pretence of driving away the Spensers had obtained her. Both barons and people looked with ill-suppressed jealousy and disgust at the dangerous position of Mor- timer ; and, however completely the late king had forfeited public favour, it was not long before the people began to feel that it was not the part of a wife to have invaded the kingdom, and deposed and pursued to death her husband and the father of her children. Isabella had indeed pretended to lament over the necessity, and to bewail the afflictions of her husband ; but her actions belied her words and tears, for she still pressed on his abdication, and was all the time living in open adultery with her paramour Mortimer. Thus public feeling, the inspiration of nature, grew, and there wore not wanting monks who boldly denounced from the pulpit the scandalous life of the queen, and awoke a feeling of commiseration for her captive husband. Those who beheld the proud Mor- timer actually occupying, in the name of the queen, the seat of royal power, burned with natural indignation at the degradation of the throne ; those who beheld the unfortunate Edward, gentle and depressed in his fallen fortunes, became touched with compassion for him. The Earl of Leicester, now Earl of Lancaster, though he had a brother's blood in his remembrance, could not help being affected with generous and kindly sentiments to- wards his prisoner, and was even suspected of entertaining more honourable intentions towards him. These things were whispered to Isabella, and the king was speedily removed into the care of Sir John Maltravers, a man of a savage disposition, and embittered against the king by injuries received from him and his favourites. Maltravers appeared to study the concealment of his cap- tive, removing him from time to time from one castle to another in the space of a few months. At length Lord Berkeley was added to the commission of custody, and the unhappy captive was lodged in Berkeley Castle, near the river Severn. While Lord Berkeley was there he was treated with the courtesy due to his rank and to his misfortunes; but that nobleman being detained at his manor of Bradley by sickness, the opportunity was taken to leave him in the hands of two of the most hardened and desperate ruffians that the world ever produced, named Gournay and Ogle. These men appeared to take a savage delight in tormenting him. They practised upon him daily every indignity which they could devise. It is stated that one day, when Edward was to be shaved, they ordered cold and filthy water from the castle ditch for that purpose ; and when he desired it to be changed, . they refused it with mockery, though the unfortunate prince burst into tears, and declared that he would have clean and warm water. These modes of killing were, however, too slow for those who wanted to be secure from any popular revulsion of feeUng in favour of the deposed monarch ; and one night, the 21st of September, 1327, frightful shrieks were hoard from the castle, and the next morning the gates were thrown open, and the people were freely admitted to see the body of the late king, who, it was said, had died suddenly in the night. Of the nature of that disease there was no doubt on the minds of any one, for the cries of the sufferer's agony had reached even to the town, waking up, says Holiushed, "numbers, who prayed heartily to God to receive his soul, for they understood by those cries what the matter meant." The murder of Edward of Caernarvon is one of the horrors of history. The fiends who had him in custody, it came out, had thrown him upon a bed and held him down violently with a table, while they had thrust a red-hot ii-on into his bowels through a tin pipe. By this means there ap- peared no outward cause of death ; but his countenance was distorted and horrible to look upon. Most of the nobles and gentlemen of the neighbourhood went to see the body, which was then privately conveyed to Gloucester, and buried in the abbey, without any inquiry or investigation whatever. Edward, at the time of his murder, was forty -three years old. He had reigned nineteen years and a half, and spent about nine months in his wofol captivity after his deposition. Maltravers, Gournay, and Ogle were held in universal detestation. Gournay was some years afterwards caught at Marseilles, and shipped for England; but was beheaded at sea, as was supposed, by order of some of the nobles and prelates in England, to prevent any damaging dis- closures regarding their accomplices or abettors. jSIal- travers found means of doing service to Edward III., and eventually obtained a pardon. This reign presents a melancholy example of the miseries which befell a nation in those daj-s from a weak king. In those rude times, the throne was not fenced about and supported by the maxims and institutions which now-a-days enable very ordinary kings to fill theii- high post without any public inconvenience, and verify the observation of the celebrated Swedish chancellor, Oxenstjerna, " See, my son, with what verj' little sense a kingdom may be governed." In the time of Edward II. the convenient maxim was not introduced that a king can do no wrong. The monarch seemed to stand alone amid a race of powerful and ambitious barons, who wore always ready to encroach on the throne, and could only be restrained by a strong hand. The king had not, as now- a-days, his council, his ministers, and various oIBcers, to share his responsibilities, and afford him their united talents and advice. He acted more fully from his own individual views, and therefore the consequences to the nation were the more directly good or evil as the king was wise or not. In this king's reign we find the arms of the nation disgraced, its hold on Scotland .and France weakened, and the existence of internal discord and much civil bloodshed. We do not find those great enactments of laws which distinguished the reign of his father, and the estates of the crown were greatly wasted on unworthy favourites. Yet, oven in this reign the people gained something, as they have always done, from the necessities of kings. The barons, by the ordinances which they A.D. 1327.T ilEFLECTIONS ON THE EEIGN OF EDWARD n. 357 •wrung from the weak hands of this king, extended the privileges of Parliament, and circumscribed the power of the crown. They decreed that all grants made without consent of Parliament shoxild henceforth be invalid ; that the king could not make war or leave the kingdom without consent of the baronage in Parliament assembled, who should appoint a regent during the royal absence ; that all the great otBcers of the crown, and all governors of foreign possessions, should at all times bo chosen by the baronage, or with their advice and assent, in Parlia- ment. These were all important conquests from the crown, and came by time to be the established privileges of Parliament at large, not exclusively of the peers. ' The very usurpations and arbitrary deeds of the favourites produced permanent good out of temporary evil; for the barons compelled Edward to renew the Great Charter, and introduced a new and most valuable provision into it — namely: "Forasmuch as many people bo aggrieved by the king's ministers against right, in respect to which grievances no one can recover without common consent of Parliament, we do ordain that the king shall hold a Parliament once a year, or twice, if need be." Thus, out of this king's fatal facility to favouritism came not only his own destruction, but also that grand security of public liberty, the annual assembling of Parliament. Besides the troubles related, the kingdom dui-ing this reign was afflicted by a severe famine, which lasted for several years. The dearth was not produced by drought, but by continued rains and cold weather, which destroyed the harvests, and produced great mortality amongst the cattle, and, of course, raised the price of everything to an enormous pitch ; which Parliament, not having at that day the benefit of Adam Smith and political economy, endeavoured to keep down by enacting, in 1315, a tariff of rates for all articles of life, which they very soon dis- covered was useless, and therefore repealed it. In this reign also took place ono of those great political changes which spring of necessity from the progress of society ; this was the abolition of the celebrated order of the Knights Templars. This famous order was one of three religious military orders which arose out of the crusades. The other two were the Knights of the Hos- pital of St. John of Jerusalem, commonly called Knights Hospitallers, and the Teutonic Knights of St. Mary of Jerusalem, or German Knights of the Cross, all of which arose in the twelfth century. The foundation of the order of Knights Templars, or Brethren of the Temple of Solo- mon, or Soldiers of the Temple, or Soldiers of Christ, is said to have taken place in 1118 or 1119. Nine knights, all French, took a vow to maintain free passage for pil- grims to the Holy Land. To this vow they added those of poverty, chastity, obedience, and battle against the infidels. For six or seven years they did not add to their numbers, but in 1128 Pope Honoring II. confirmed a rule of the Council of Troyes on their behalf, thus fully recognising them as an orthodox body, the Paiiperes Com- milUones, or Pauper Soldiers of the Holy City. Honorius appointed them to wear a white mantle, and in 1146 Eugonius III. added a red cross on the left breast, in imitation of the whit- cross of the Hospitallers, whose business it was to attend the sick and wounded, and enter- tain pilgrims. This red cross, borne also on their ban- ners, became famous aU over the world, from the valour of these knights, who hence acquired the common cog- nomen of Eed Cross Knights. The order speedily grew into fame and popularity. Young men of the noblest families of every nation ia Christendom eagerly sought admittance into it. They became extremely numerous, in time admitting priests, and persons of lower order, or esquires. Their chief seat after the expulsion from Jerusalem by Saladin was iu Cyprus, but they had also provinces in Tripolis, Antioch, Portugal, Spain, France, England, Scotland, Ireland, Germany, Italy, and Sicily. Their history is the history of all the wars of the Christians against the infidels in the East, and for 170 years they formed the most renowned portion of the Christian ti-oops. But with fame came also immense wealth, with its usual sequence, coi-ruption. Their vows had become a mockery. Instead of poverty and chastity, they became notorious for the splendoui- of their abodes, and the pomp, luxury, and licentiousness of their lives. In the time of Edward II. they had incurred the re- sentment of his brother-in-law, Philip le Bel, of France. They were suspected of exciting the Parisians to a re- sistance to the debasement of the coin, which Philip was noted for ; but there needed no other temptation to their destruction with this needy prince than their immense wealth. In 1306 the grand master of the Temple, Jacques do Molay, was summoned to Europe by Pope Clement V., who had secretly agreed with Philip to suppress the order. De Molay was summoned on pretence of consulting with the Pope on uniting the two orders of the Templars and Hospitallers. Witnesses were soon found to chargo the whole order of the Templars with the systematic practice of the most revolting crimes, and on the 12th ot September, 1307, secret orders were sent to all the governors of towns in France, by which in one night the whole of the Templars in France, including De Molay, the grand master, were seized and thrown into prison. Their houses and property were everywhere seized, and their great stronghold, the Temple, in Paris, was taken possession of by Philip himself. For the space of six years there now followed the most extraordinary and terrible scenes. The members of the order were put to the most savage tortures to compel them to confess to the most incredible crimes, and on recanting their forced confessions, they were burnt at the stake. In Paris, Eheims, Sens, Vienne, and various other places these dreadful cruelties and butcheries were perpetrated, till on tho 22nd of March, 1312, tho Pope abolished the order for ever. On the 18th of March, 1314, De Molay, the grand master, and Guy, commander, or grand prior ot Normandy, were burnt on one of the small islands of tho Seine. In England and Ireland they were all in like manner arrested by sealed orders on a particular daj-, and their property of all kinds, as well ecclesiastical as temporal, was confiscated. In this country, however, they were treated with great lenity : the witnesses brought against them refused to declare that they knew anything to their discredit, or, indeed, anything of their secret principles or practices. Tho Pope, incensed at this lenity, wrote strongly to Edward, exhorting him to try torture. A threat of treating them as heretics induced all but the grand master, William de la More, to confess their heresy ; 858 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOET OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1327. and they •were sent to pass the remainder of their lives as prisoners in different monasteries, the revenues of their immense estates being conferred by king and Par- liament on the Hospitallers, or Knights of St. John of Jerusalem. Their chief seat was the Temple, in Fleet Street, -which they erected in 1185 ; but as early as the reign of Stephen they were established in the old Temple on the south side of Holborn, near the present Southamp- ton Buildings. So fell this mighty order. Matthew of Paris asserts their manors or estates throughout Christendom to have amounted to £9,000, and their income to be not less than £6,000,000 sterling. With the exception of Spain and Portugal, their property, as in England, was given to the Knights of St. John. Much has been written on the secret principles of this famous order, which is his name, the stern '" Hammer of Scotland," and con- queror of Wales. In the youthful monarch all the vigoul and ability of Edward I. revived ; and in his reign the fame of England rose far higher than it had ever yet reached, bringing the two words of martial glory, " Cressy " and " Poiotiers," into the language, and making them like the notes of a trumpet in the ears of Englishmen in every age. True, the conquests which they marked soon faded away; but the prestige of British valour which they created was created for all time. In no period of our history did the spirit of chivalry show more in the ascendant than in this reign, nor leave names of more knightly lustre on the page of our history ; including not only the monarch and his illustrious son, but a numerous list of leaders in the field. Whether the practical utility or the political wisdom of the great deeds done, exclusive Great Seal of Edward III. affirmed still to exist in Paris, possessing the original registers, and an unbroken succession of grand masters from De Molay to the present time. A society of this name certainly exists in Paris ; ,and in England, and also in Germany, the Freemasons are said to be the represen- tatives of the ancient Templars. King Edward II. left four children, two sons and two daughters. Edward succeeded him ; John, Earl of Corn- wall, died early at Perth; Jane was married to David Bruce, King of Scotland ; and Eleanor to Reginald, Count of Gueldres. CHAPTER LXIII. Edward III. — Incursions of the Scots under Douglas and Randolph — Edward's First Campaign against them— Schemes of Mortimer — Execution of the King's Uncle, the Earl of Kent — Fall of Mortimer, and Imprisonment of the Queen Isabella — Enterprise of Edward Bahol and the disinherited Nobles against Scotland — War by Ed- ward IIL in Support of Baliol. The sceptre of England, taken by the indignant nation from the feeble grasp of Edward of Caernarvon, was once more in the hand ot a strong man. Edward IIL, sprung immediately from a feeble parent, was, however, of the stock of mighty kings, and the grandson of the fii'st of of the renown conferred on the nation, was equal to their eclat, remains for us to determine after our record of them. But at the commencement of his reign the future conqueror of Cressy was but a boy of fourteen. The lion of England was yet but the ungrown and playful cub, and was under the guardianship of a mother of tarnished reputation, and in the real power of her bold paramour, Roger Mortimer. For appearance sake, indeed, a council of regency was appointed during the minority of the young king ; and this council was composed of twelve of the most influ- ential noblemen and prelates of the realm ; namely, five prelates— the Archbishops of York and Canterbury, the Bishops of Winchester, Worcester, and Hereford ; and seven lay lords— the Earls of Norfolk, Kent, and Sui-rey, the Lords Wake, Ingham, Piercy, and De Eoos. The Earl of Lancaster was appointed guardian and protector of the king's person. Having named this regency, the Parliament then passed an act of indemnity, including all those engaged in the deposition of the late king ; reversed the attainders ■ against the late Earl of Lancaster and his adherents ; confiscated the immense and ill-gotten estates of the Despensers; and granted to the queen-mother a large A.D. 1327.] EDWAED m. ADVANCES AGAINST THE SCOTS. 359 Bum of money to discharge her debts, and a jointure of i'20,000 a year — a sum quite equal in value to £100,000 now. This last enactment, in fact, established the su- premacy of the queen and her paramour Mortimer : the council became, as they meant it to be, a mere empty figure of state policy ; Mortimer, who had taken care not even to have his name placed on the council, as affecting the modesty of a private man, now all appeared secure, assumed the state and establishment of a king. Boy, however, aa the king was, his spirit was too active and inquiring to leavo him with safety unemployed about the court : he would bo sure there to be soon making observations, which, ere long, might bring trouble to the usurpers. Mortimer tried to keep him entertained by various frivolous amusements ; but there needed some- thing more active and engrossing, and which would lead him to a distance from the court; and this was speedily furnished by the Scots. Their successes over Edward II., and especially their grand triumph at Bannockburn, had gi-eatly elated them ; and the present crisis, when there was a deposed king, and a mere boy on the throne, ap- peared too tempting to omit a profitable incursion into England. Robert Bruce was now growing, if not old, yet infirm ; but he was as full as ever of martial daring. At this distance of time it appears equally impolitic and ungenerous in the Scots to make this attack. There was a truce existing between the kingdoms, and it might seem as if it would have been more prudent every way for the Soots to strengthen and consolidate their internal forces than thus wantonly to provoke their old and potent enemies. But the state of rancour between the two countries no doubt impelled them to this course. Pro- bably, too, the hope of regaining at such a period the northern provinces of England, which had formeiiy belonged to Scotland, was an actuating cause. Bruce appointed to this service his two great generals, the good Lord Jame* Douglas and his nephew Thomas Randolph, now Earl of Moray, some of whose daring exploits wo have had already to record. They were to lay waste the counties of Durham and Northumberland, and do all the injury to England that they could. They made an attempt on the castle of Norham, but were repulsed with heavy loss. They then increased their army to 25,000, summoning the vassals of the crovm from every quarter, Highlands, Lowlands, and isles. This army of Scots has been most graphically described by Froissart. He represents them as lightly armed, nimble, and hardy, and, from their simple mode of living, capable of making rapid marches or retreats, being totally unen- cumbered with baggage. There were 4,000 cavalry, well-mounted and well-armed; the rest were mounted on ponies, active, but strong, which could pick up a subsistence anywhere. The men carried no provisions, except a small bag of oatmeal, and, says the chronicler, " they had no need of pots or pans, for they cooked the beasts, when they had skinned them, in a simple man- ner." That is, they killed the cattle of the English, of which they found plenty on their march, and roasted the desh on wooden spits, or boiled it in the skins of the /mnimals themselves, putting on a little water with the beef to prevent the hides being burnt. . They also cut U|) the hides for their shoes, fitting them to their feet and ankles while raw, with the hair outwards ; so that from this cause the English called them the rough-footed Scots, aud red-shanL-3, from the colour of the hides. Eveiy man carried at his saddle an iron plate called a girdle, on which, whenever they halted, they could bako cakes of thin oatmeal. Thus armed, and thus pro- visioned, the Soots could speed from mountain to moun- tain, and from glen to glen, with amazing rapidity, advancing to pillage, or disappearing at the approach of an enemy, as if they wero nowhere at hand. With such forces Douglas and Randoljih crossed the Tweed, ravaged Durham and Northumberland, and advanced into the county of York. To oppose these invaders, the English raised rapidly an ai-my said to amount to 60,000 men. They had recalled John of Hainault and some cavalry which they had dis- missed; and the young king of fourteen, burning with impatience to chastise the Scots, marched hastily towards the north. His progress, however, suffered some delay at York, from a violent quarrol which broke out between the English archers and the foreign troops under John of Hainault. The archers, and especially those of Lin- colnshire, who probably had an old feud with the natives of Flanders, displayed a dogged dislike to thoso troops, and in tho streets of York they came actually to down- right battle, and many men were killed on both sides. This diiference quelled, if not settled, the English army moved on. Very soon they came in sight of burning farms and villages, which marked the track of the Scots. These Scots, however, themselves were nowhere visible, for thoy retreated with double the celerity with which tho English, heavily loaded with baggage, could follow thom. The Scots did not retreat directly north, but took, according to Froissart, their way westward, amongst tho savage deserts aud bad mountains and valleys, as he calls them, of Cumberland and Westmoreland. The English crossed the Tyno, trusting to cut off the homeward route of the enemy ; but tho utterly desolated condition of the country compelled them to recross that river, for no sus- tenance could bo procured for the troops. After thus vainly pursuing this light-footed foe for some time, Edward, excessively chagrined in not being able to come up with them, or even to find them, offered a freehold worth £100 a year and the honours of knighthood to any one who would bring him intelligence of tho enemy. After severe hardships, and enormous fatigue to the soldiers, wading through" waters and swamps, a man, one Thomas of Eokeby, came riding hard to the camp, and claimed the rewai-d offered by tho king. Ho said ho had been made prisoner by tho Scots, and that they had said they should be as glad to see the English king as he would to see them. This was not veiy pro- bable, as they might have waited for the king, which they had taken caro not to do. There, however, thoy lay, at not more than three leagues distant. The reason of the Scots now halting was visible enough when the English came up. They found them posted on tho right bank of the Weir, where the river was deep and rapid, and there was no possibility of getting at thom. Even could they cross the river, they must climb a steep hill in face of the enemy to attack them. Under these circumstances, Edward sent a challenge to the Scottish generals to meet him on a fair and open field, either by drawing back and allowing him to cross the 360 CASSELL'S ILLTTSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1327. river to attack them, or giving them the same option to cross over to his side. Douglas, piqued at this proposal, advised to accept the challenge; but the more politic Moray refused, and replied to Edward, that he never took the advice of an enemy in any of his movements. He reminded the king, as if to pique him to dare the unequal attempt of crossing in their faces, how long they had been in his country, spoiling and wasting at their pleasure. If the king did not like their proceedings, he added, forced, from want of provisions, to come out and fight. As, however, they did not do this, the young king's pa- tience became exhausted, and he desired to pass the river at all hazards, and come to blows with the Scots. This Mortimer would not assent to ; and. while lying, highly discontented with this restraint, on the bank of the river, Edward had a narrow escape of being taken prisoner. The brave Douglas, being held back by Moray, as Edward was by Mortimer, fi-om a general engagement. Edward III. insultingly, he might get over to them the best way he could. Edward kept his ground opposite to them for three days; the Scots at night making great fires along their lines, and all night long, according to the chronicler, " horning with their horns, and making such a noise as if all the great devils from hell had come there." In the daytime some of the most adventurous knights from the English army swam their strong horses across the river, and skirmished with the Scots— rather to show their gal- lantry than for any real effect. On the fourth morning it was found that the Scots had entirely decamped, and Were discovered after awhile posted in a still stronger position higher up the river. Here Edward again sat down facing that confidently hoping that they must be planned one of those heroic exploits in which he so much j delighted. Making himself acquainted with the English ' password for the night, and taking an accurate survey of the English camp, he advanced, when it was near mid- night, with 200 picked horsemen, silently crossed the river, at some distance above the English position, and then, as silentlj' turning, made for the English camp. Ho found it carelessly guarded, and, seeing this, he rode past the English sentinels, as if he had been an English officer, saying, " Ha, St. George ! you keep bad watch here ! " Presently, he heard an English soldier say to his comrades, as they lay by a fire, " I cannot tell what is to happen here, but somehow I have a great fear of the Black Douglas playing us some trick." "You shall have cause to say so," said Douglas to &.D. 1330.] EDWAED m. 36i yi Reception of Philippa of Uainault oA London. Pr.2 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOET OF ENGLAND. [A.B. 1329. I I himSL-lf. When lie had got fairly into the English camp, he cut the ropes of a tent with his sword, calling out his usual war-cry, " A Douglas ! a Douglas 1 English thieves, yo are all dead men." His followers immediately fell upon the camp, cutting down the tents, overturning them, and killing the men as they started up to seize their arms. Douglas, meanwhile, had reached the royal pa- vilion, and was as near as possible seizing the young king, but the chaplain, the chamberlain, and some of the liing's household, being alarmed, stood boldly in his >l3roace, and enabled him to escape under the canvas of the tent, though they lust their own lives. Douglas, being now separated from his followers, many of whom were killed, endeavoured to make good his retreat, but was in danger of being killed by a man who attacked him with a huge club. This man, however, ho slew, and escaped in safety to his own camp ; his party haying, it is said, killed about 300 men. Soon after this tho Scots made an effectual roti-eat in tiie night by having beforehand cut a pathway through a great bog which laj' behind them, and filling it with fag- gots ; a road which is still remaining in Weardale, and called from this cause the " Shora Moss." The young king, on entering the evacuated place of encampment the next day, found nothing but six Englishmen tied to trees, and with their legs broken, to prevent them carrying any intelligence to their countrymen. Edward, disgusted with his want of success, returned southward, and the Soots arrived in safety in their own country. On reaching York the Enghsh king disbanded his army. He then returned to London, highly dissatis- llod, young as ho was, with the state of things, Mortimer luul usurped all power. Edward believed that from covvfavdice, or from some hidden motive, he had prevented him taking ample vengeance on the Soots. At court he had sot aside the whole of the royal council ; consulted neither prince of the blood nor the nobles on any public measure, concentrating in himself, as it wore, all the sovereign authority. He endowed the queen with nearly the whole of the royal revenues, and enjoyed them in her name. Ho himself was so besieged with his own party and pai'asites, that no one else could approach hira, and the people of all ranks now hated him as cordially as thoy had once done Gaveston. Sensible of this growing public odium, he now sought to make a peace with Scotland, to secure himself from attack on that aide ; and perhaps the king was not so far wrong in attributing his backwardness to attack the Soots to some private motive. Certain it is that the following year, 1328, ho made peace with Robert Bruce on term's which astonished and deeply incensed the whole nation. To give the greatest firmness to the treaty he proposed a marriage between Joan or Joanna, the sister of Edward, thou only seven years of age, and David, the son of Robert Bruce, then only five. That the Scots might accede promptly to this offer, ho agreed to renounce the great principle for which the English nation had bean so long contending, its claim of riglit to the crown of Scotland. Those terms were of course eagerly accepted, and the treaty, to make all sure, was at once carried into effect. About Whitsuntide a Parliament was called together at North- ampton, which ratified thetrcatj', thus acknowledging the full independence of Scotland, and on the 22nd of July the marriage was solemnised at Berwick, where Isabella had brought her daughter. This young bride was sig- nificantly called by the Scotch "Joan Makepeace," and with her was delivered up many jewels, charters, &o., which had been carried away from Scotland bj^ Edward I. In return for these unlooked-for advantages, Bruce agreed to pay the King of England 30,000 marks as com- pensation for damages done in his kingdom. Edward himself, a few months previous to this marriage of his sister, had received his long-affianccd wife, Philijipa of Haiuault, who had been brought to this country by Isabella's chamjiion, John of Hainault, the young queen's uncle. Philippa proved one of the best wives and queens which the annals of England can boast. We may here notice tho death of Robert Bruce, which took place in the following year, 1329. He was by no means old, being only fifty-four, but he was worn down by the disease and infirmities contracted, through the severe exertions, hardships, and exj)osures endured in his stupendous endeavours for the liberation of Scotland. Robert Bruce may be pronounced one of the ablest, most patriotic, and wise monarohs who ever lived. He entered into contest with an enemy who appeared to most men too powerful for any hope of success, and left his country at peace and independent. With some exceptions, even in that hard and iron age, his character was marked by great tenderness and amiabilitj'. His destruction of the Red Comyn was an act which, though dictated by policy, his conscience never approved. On his death-bed ho reverted to it, declaring that he had always meant to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land in expiation of tlio crime, but, as he could not do that, he commissioned his dearest friend and bravest warrior to carry his heart thither. In contrast to and palliation of the slaughter of the Red Oomjm, we may place such actions as that in which he stopped his army in retreat in Ireland, because a poor woman, who had just given birth to a child, had no means of being conveyed on with tho troops, and was heard by him lamenting that she should be left to the cruelties of the Irish. No sooner did Bruce understand her complaint than he looked round on his offlcei's with eyes which kindled like fire, and exclaimed, " Gentlemen, never let it be said that a man, who was born of a woman and nursed by a woman'.^ tenderness, could leave a mother and an infant to tho mercy of barbarians. In the name of God, let the odds and th ; risk be what they will, lot us fight rather than leave these poor creatures behind us." The army halted and drew up in order of battle, and Edmimd Butler, the English general, believing that Bruce had received reinforcements, hesitated to attack him ; so that Bruce had opportunity to send on the woman and cliild, and retreat at his leisure. Robert Bruce died at his castle of Cardross on tho "Ih of June, 1329; and Douglas some time after, setting out with several brave knights to carry tho heart of the king to Jerusalem, enclosed in a silver case, and hung from his neck, slopped to fight the infidels in .-pain, where ho was killed ;., but his remains were brought back to Scot- land, as well as the heart of Bruce, which was buried behind tho high altar in the abbey of Melrose. The body of Bruco was interred in the church of Diinfermline, whcra some years ago the tomb was opened, and tho remains of his bouea were fcuiid, anil clearly identified, after ." A.D. 1329.] EXECUTION- OF THE EAEL OP KENT. 363 Test of more than 500 years, by the breast-bone having been sawn through to tako out the heart, and by fi agmonts of the cloth of gold in which ho was known to have boon wrapped. The peace thus concluded with Scotland did not make Mortimer feel as secure as he had hoped. Indeed it added greatly to the popular resentment against him. llis having so readily jdelded up the claims of the nation on Scotland wounded the pubUc feeling ; whilst his arbi- trary and ambitious conduct in domestic affairs drew upon him the hatred of the people and the jealousy of the nobles. He assumed a splendour even outvying royalty. He grasped, like all favourites, at riches and honours insatiably. At the Parliament held in Octobfr at Salis- bury he caused himself to be created Earl of March, or Lord of tho Marches of Wales. Ho gi'ossly abused the prerogative of purvoyanci. thus robbing the public oxton- sively. Amongst the barons who beheld this haughty career of Mortimer with disgust, were the Earls of Lan- caster, Kent, and Norfolk, all princes of tho blood. Lan- caster was guardian of the kug, yet he was kept carefully in the hands of Mortimer and the queen-mother. Lan- caster therefore determined to assert the authority of his office, and put some check on Mortimer : but coming to a contest at Winchester, ho was obliged to retreat, and Mortimer then fell on his estates, and ravaged them as ho would an enemy's country. When the three earls were summoned to Parliament at Salisbury, ho strictly forbade them to come attended by an armed body; a common, though an illegal, practice in those times. They complied with the command, but found, on approaching the city, that Mortimer himself was attended by his party and their followers, all strongly armed. Alarmed for theii- personal safety, they made a hasty retreat, and were returning with their forces, when, fi'om some cause unknown, the Earls of Kent and Norfolk suddenly de- serted Lancaster, who was compelled to make a humi- liating submission, and pay a heavy fine. Through the intercession of the prelates, the peace was apparently restored amongst these powerful men. Probably Kent and Norfolk had been tampered with to induce them to desert Lancaster ; certain it is that soon after, the weak but well-meaning Kent was made the victim of a gross stratagem by Mortimer. He suixounded Kent by his creatures, who asserted that his brother, Edward II., was still alive. Tho earl's remorse for the share he had had in his brother's ruin made him eagerly listen to a stoiy of this kind. They represented to him that it was a fact well and widely known amongst the people, that the body said to be the king's, which was exhibited at Berkeley Castle, and afterwards buried at Gloucester, was not his, but that he was now actually a prisoner in Corfe Castle. Some monks lent themselves to the base scheme ; and exhorted the Earl of Kent to rise to the rescue of his unfortunate brother, assuring him that his fate excited the deepest feeling, and that various nobles and prelates, from whom they professed to come, would at once join in the generous enterprise. No means were spared to lead their victim into tho snare. Letters were forged as coming from tho Pope, stimulating htm to this course, as one required of him as a brother. The earl, completely deceived by this infamous conspiracy, wrote letters to his supposed captive brother, which were handed to Sir John Maltravers, believed by the earl to be cognisant of tho poor king's incarceration, but in reality one of his murderers. Those letters were duly conveyed to Mortimer and the queen-mother, and were speedily treated as ample proofs of tho earl's treasonable designs. The earl was invited to come to Winchester, where a Parliament, consisting entirely of the faction of the wicked queen and Mortimer, arrested him on the charge of con- spiring against the present government, and condemned him to death and loss of his estate. Lest the young king should tako compassion on his uncle, tho queen and Mortimer hastened his execution. But now was seen a singular sight. Not a man could be found who would take the office of executioner ; and there was the son ol the great Edward I. seen standing on the scaffold before the castle gate for many hours, for want of a headsman. Such was the detestation of that lascivious woman and of her base and murderous paramour, and such the vonoratiou for that worthy nobleman, that not a man, of any degreo whatever, either of the city or noighbouihood, could bo induced by rewards or menaces to take up tho axe, till a inean wretch fi-om the Marahalsea prison, to save his own life, at length consented to take the life of Edmund of Woodstock, Earl of Kent. This was the more remarkable because great complaints were made by the public of tho insolence and rapacity of the earl's retainers, w-ho, on tho plea of the royal right of purveyance, would take anything as they rode abroad without thinking of paying the parties to whom it belonged. This was, indeed, a groat complaint j which was frequently brought to ParUameut against all the ininces of tho blood of those times, who used the privilege of purveyance to plunder the defenceless people at wUl. Personally, however, the Earl of Kent was much beloved ; and though the king, his nephew, had signed the sentence, the guilt of it was charged on tho queen- mother and Mortimer. The alleged accomplices of the earl were allowed to escape except Eobert de Teuton and a poor prior, who had told tho earl that he had raised a spirit to inquire whether Edward II. was really still Uviug. This poor man was imprisoned for life. The wickedness and rapacity of tho ijueon and Mortimer did not cease there. Lancaster was thrown into prison. Numbers of the nobility and prelates were implicated, and Mortimer used this fear of treason to crush his ene- mies and aggrandise himself by their property. The estate of the Earl of Kent he gave to his younger son Geoffrey ; the vast demesnes of tho Sponsors he seized for himself. His power became most ominous, and his deeds of arbitrary injustice were more and more compluinclhof, till all parties forgot their mutual feuds and united againsfrv*,„ him. It is tho fate of overgrown upstarts never to foresee their ruin. Had not this blind fatality attached to Mor- timer in common with his class, he must have been sensible that the young king was of a character and arriving at an ago which would bring his destruction. There wore not wanting rumours at tho time that Morti- mer did not overlook this probable issue, and had thoughts of destroying the king and assuming the crown. His own time, however, was come. Edward, long galled by tho restraint in which he was held, now approached his eighteenth year, and his queen, PhUippa, had already brought him a son, afterwards ';he famous Black Princo, 3ai OASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOET OP ENGLAND. La.d. 1330. T/ho was bom at Woodstock about tkree montlis after the execution of the Earl of Kent. The conduct of the queen and Mortimer was become more openlj' scandalous, and it was generally said that Isabella was about to be- come a mother. Edward resolved to act ; but he was aware that he was closely surrounded by the spies of Mortimer, and ho went to work with all the caution of a man conspiring against his sovereign. He fixed on the Lord Montacute as the nobleman in whose prudence and fidelity he had the most confidence. Lord Montacute entered cordially into his plans, and soon engaged some trusty and influential friends in the enterprise — the Lords Clifford and Molinea, Sii- John Nevil of Hornby, Sir Edward Bohun, and others. The queen dowager and Mortimer were residing in the castle of Nottingham. The king and his coadjutors de- termined to make that fortress tho scene of their enter- prise. A Parliament was summoned to meet there in October of the year 1330. In oijier, however, as is sup- posed, to prevent suspicion of tho king being bent on anj' high designs, he heh' " tournament in Cheapside, which continued three da^ ., and in which he and twelve others jousted with all knights that appeared in the lists. The young queen presided, and was regarded with extreme favour by the people ; an interest v.'hieh was greatly heightened by an accident — the breaking down of the platform on which she sat with ma'ny other ladies of the court, but from which they all escajied without injury. The time being arrived for the opening of Parliament, Edward, with all his barons, prelates, and retainers, repaired to the ancient town of Nottingham. The young king took up his quarters in the castle wiih his mother and Mortimsr; an arrangement at once convenient, as gaining him access and exact knowledge of the lodging of the earl, and also as preseiTing him from any sus- picion. The barons, bishops, and knights took up their quarters in the town. ^Mortimer appeared in high state, accompanied wherever ho went by a strong bodj' of de- voted followers. The plans of Edward and his coadjutors were settled ; and Lord Montacute was seen riding away into the country with a numerous body of his friends and attendants, as if going on a visit to some neighbouring baron. This, undoubtedly, was intended to divert sus- picion ; but the plot had not been so closely kept as to escape the quick ears of the emissaries of Mortim.er. On the afternoon of that day he entered the council with a face inflamed with I'ago. He declared to the council that a base attempt was in agitation against the queen and himself, and charged Edward bluntly with being con- cerned in it. Edward as stoutly denied tlie charge, but Mortimer pronounced his denial false. The council broke up in confusion. The castle, standing on a lofty precipice overlooking the lovely valley of the Trent, was strongly fortified on tho side of the town. A numerous guard was placed around it under these alarming circumstances, and Mortimer and his adherents were all on the alert to watch against surprise, and to plan schemes of defeat and vongeauco on th.:ir enemies. It did not appear a very easj- matter to secure the usurper in that stronghold. But the town ami castle of Nottingham are built on a soft sand rock, in which the ancient inhabitants had suak many caves, deep colls, and suliterranean passages. Ono of these doscondod from the caatle court to the foot of the precipice near the small river Leen, where the entranoo was at th. ,t time concealed by a wild growth of bushes. Probably the existence of this passage was wholly un- known to Mortimer and tho queen; and the criminal couple, having the strong military guard placed at tho gates at evening, and tho keys conveyed to the queen, who laid them by her bed-side, deemed themselves per- fectly secure. But the Lord Montacute had sounded Sir William Eland, the governor, who entered at once most zealously into the design. By him Montacute and his friends were admitted through this passage, stdl called " Mortimer's Hole," and on arriving in the court they were joined by the king, who led the way in profound silence and in darkness to an apartment adjoining tho hall, in which they could hear the voices of Mortimer, tho Bishop of Lincoln, and others of his friends, in anxious discussion. Suddenly tho concealed party burst open the door, and killed two of Mortimer's friends who attempted to make a defence. Queen Isabella, who lay in an adjoining apartment, rushed in terror from her bed, imploring her " sweet son " ( spare " her gentle Morti- mer I " Her tears and entreaties for " her wort'ny knight, her dearest friend, her beloved cousin," were in vain ; the Lord of tho Marches and dictator of the kingdom was led away in safe custody, and on the morrow brought before Parliament and condemned to death on the. charges of having usurped the royal power vested in the council of regency ; of having procui-ed the death of tho late king ; of having beguiled the Earl of Kent into a conspiracy to restore that prince — that is, to restore a dead man ; for having compassed exorbitant grants of the crown lands ; dissipated the public treasures ; embezzled 20,000 marks of tho money paid by the King of Scots ; and for many other high crimes and misdemeanors. A more general Parliament, summoned at Westminster on the 26th of November, confirmed this sentence, that he should bo drawn and hanged as a traitor. In the informality of the times, Mortimer was not allowed to make any defence; nor wore any witnesses produced for or against him. Ho was declared at once guilty from the notoriety of his crimes. On this ground, neax'ly twenty years afterwards, the sentence was revei'sod by Parliament in favour of Mortimer's son ; the plea being the illegality of the pro- ceeding. Mortimer was hanged at the Elms, near London, on the 29th of November, and with him Sir Simon Beresford, as an accomplice. Three others, who were likewise in- cludeil in the sentence, one of them being the infamous Maltravers, escaped. Edward now made proclamation that ho had taken the government of the realm into his own hands. He shu up his mother in her own house of Kisings, abolished hei extravagant jointure, but allowed her £3,000, and after- wards £4,000, per annum. There she passed twenty- seven years, her son paying her a visit once or twice annually, but taking care that she never again regained any public influence or authority. Having disposed of his shameless mother, Edward found ample employment in restoring rule and order to his kingdom. As in all times when lawless power prevails at court, robbers, murderers, and criminals had increased to an enormous extent ; public justice was grossly per- verted, and abuses and wiongs everywhere abounded. A.D. 1331.] EDWARD BALIOL. 365 He isauod wiita to tho judges, commanding them to ad- minister justice firmly, promptlj', and without fear or favour, paying no legurd wliatover to any injunctions from tho ministers of tho crown or any other power. He sought out and severely punished Ihe abuses in the ad- ministration of the state, and exacted from the peers a i'jlomn pledge that they- should bi"oak off all connection with malefactors — a cii'cumstanco which gives us a cuiious insight into the times, tho great barons keeping the rob- bers and outlaws in pay against each other, and even against tho king. This dono, Edward turned his attention to what appeared tho grand hereditary object of tho English crown of that day, the subjugation of Scotland. The great Kobort Bruce, as wo have pcim, had loft his son David, a mere boy, on tho throne. IIo cuuld not but bo anxious for tho stability of his position with such a powerful kingdom and martial young king in his imme- diate neighbourhood, and with the long-pursued claims and attempts of England on Scotland.' He had, indeed, taken a strong precaution against the invasion of his son's peace by marrying him to the sister of Edwai'd of England. But the temptation of ambition iu princes has almost always proved far stronger than tho ties of blood, and so it proved in Edward's case. We might have expected that he would maintain rather than attempt to destroy the hapjjinoss and fair cslablishmont of his si.st'r on tho throne of Scotland. But tho spirit of military domination was as powerful in Edward as in his grandfather. He could not forget that Scotland had nearly boon secured by England, and that the English had lost a great prestigo at Bannockburn. Ho burned, therefore, to icsture tho reputation of the English arms, and complete tho design of uuitiii^^ tho whole of tho island of Great Britain into one kingdom — t'ne life-long aim and dying command of the great Edward I. When princes are desirous of pleas of aggression it is never difficult to find such, and in this case they were abun- dant and plausible. In the treaty of peace and alliance concluded between Bruce and Edward at Northampton, when Joan was affianced to tho heir of Scotland, just before Bruoe's death, it was stipulated that both the Scottish families who had lost their estates in .Scotland by taking part with tho English in the late wars, and the English nobles who had claims on estates there by marriage or heirship, should all be restored to them. Tho Scotch were admitted ; but Bruce, perceiving that tho estates of the English were much more valuable than tho others, had boon unwilling to allow so many dangerous subjects of the English king to establish themselves in the heart of his realm, where they might become formidable ene- mies. He had therefore put off their urgent demands of fulfilment of this stipulation, on the plea that it required time and caution to dispossess the potent Scotch barons now holding them. Tho claim of Lord Henry Percy was conceded ; those of tho Lords Wako and Beaumont, the latter of whom claimed the earldom of Buchan in right of his wife, were disregarded. Beaumont, a man of great liower, and of a determined character, resolved by some means to conquer his right. He urged it upon Edward to redress the wrongs of his subjects ; but Edward, now frred from the ascendancy of Mortimer, though nothing loth, pleaded the impossibility of liis ariacd iuterfercnco in the face of tho late solcmu tv«iity tuid sUiancB, ftud bd had used persuasions in vain. Probably, he gave theso malcontents, however, to understand that he would not prevent them trying to help themselves. Not only was Bruce dead, but his two great warriors and statesmen, Moray and Douglas, also. Moray had been left regent and guardian of tho young King David, still only about nine years of ago ; but to his vigorous administration had succeeded that of tho Earl of Mar, another nephew of Eobert Bruce, and a much inferior man. At this favourable crisis Beaumont turned his attention ■upon Edward Baliol, the son of John Baliol, wlio had been in vain placed on the Scottish throne by Edward I. John Baliol had retired to his patrimonial estate in Nor- mandy, where he had died, and where his son Edwai-d had continued to reside in privacy. His pretensions to the Scottish crown had been so decidedly repelled by tho Scotch, that he had given up all idea of over reviving them ; and for somo private offence ho had been thrown into prison. There Beaumont found him; and pitching upon him as the very instrument which he needed to authorise a descent on Scotland immediatelj-, on tho ground of his sufferings as a private person, obtained his enlargement, and took him away with him to England, tho French king suspecting nothLug of the real design. There ho represented to Edward tho splendid opportunity which thus presented itself of regaining the ascendancy over Scotland by putting forward Baliol as claimant of tho crown. Edward could not do this openly for many reasons. In the Ih'si; jdace, nothing could be more in- jurious to his character for justice and natural afTeotion, were he with a preponderating force to attack tho throuo of a minor, and that minor his brother-in-law. In tho next place he was bound by a solemn treaty not to assault or prejudice the kingdom of Scotland for four years, and tho penalty for the violation of this engagement was £20,000. The Regent of Scotland, however, as well as tho lato king, had always admitted tho justice of the claims of the disinherited nobles, yet had always evaded all demands for restoration. Edward's plan, therefore, was to meet artifice with artifice ; and accordingly he connived at tho assembling of Baliol's forces in the north of England, and at the activo preparations of the nobles who intended to join him. Umphraville, Earl of Angus, the Lords Uoau- mont. Wake, Ferrars, Talbot, Eitzwarin, Staffoid, and Mowbray had soon an army of 2,500 men assembled on the banks of the Uumber. They apprehended that the borders would bo strongly armed, and therefore they took their way by sea in a small fleet, which set sail from Ravenspiu', an obscure port, and soon landed at Kinghorn, in Fifeshire. Tho Scots, who detested the BaUols as pretenders under the patronage and for the ultimate purposes of England, flocked in thousands to the national standard against him. Tho Earl of Fife, too precipitately attacking Baliol's force, was at onoo defeated, and the invaders marched northward towards Dupplin. Near this place tho Regent Mar lay with an army sa-d to number 40,000 men. Tho river Earn lay between the hostile hosts, and it was evidently the policy of the Scots to delay a general engagement till the Earl of March, who was rapidly advancing from the south of Scotland, came up, when tho handful of English must have been surrouuded and overpowered. But Baliol, or see CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTOM OF EXGLAND. [a.d. 1332. his allies the EngHsh barons, perceived this danger clearly- enough, and they suddenly crossed the river in the night, before they could bo taken in the rear by March. They found the Scots, confident in their numbers, carelessly sleeping without sentries or outposts, and falling upon them in the dark, made a terrible slaughter amongst them. In the morning the Scots, who had fled in con- fusion, perceived the insignificant force to which they had yielded, and retiu-ned with fury to retrieve their character, but they again committed the crime of over- confidence, came on in groat disorder, and engaged without regard to the nature of the ground, which was greatly in favour of the enemy, and were once more defeated with huge slaughter. Man}' thousands of the Scots were driven into the river and wore drowned, wore actually smothered by tumbling over each other in the chaotic flight, or were cut to pieces. The regent himself, the Earl of Carrick, a natural son of Eobert Bruce, the Earls 24th of September, 1332, was crowned King of Scotland at Scone. David and his young betrothed queen were sent off for security to the castle of Dumbarton ; the Bruce party solicited a truce, which was granted; and thus in little moi-e than a month Baliol had won a kingdom. But the success of Edward Baliol was as unreal as a dream ; he was a mere phantom king. The Scottish patriots were in possession of many of the strongest places in the kingdom, while the adherents of Edward Baliol, each hastening to secure the property he was in pursuit of, the forces of the new monarch were rapidly reduced in number, and he saw plainly that he could only maintain the position of the throno of Scotland by the support of the King of England. lie hastened, therefore, to do homage to him for the Scottish crown, and proposed to marry Joan, the sister of the king, the affianced bride of the dethi'oned David, if the Pope's consent to the dissolu- Muilimer's Hole, Xuttiiigbam Cattle. of Atholl and Monteith, and the Lords Hay of Erroll, Seith, and Lindsey wero slain. With them fell from 12,000 to 13,000 men, while Baliol lost only about thirty ; a sufficient proof of the rawness of the Scotch foi'ces, and tlio frightful panic amongst thom. The battle of Dupplin Moor Wiis one of the most sanguinary and complete defeats which the Scots ever suffered, and appeared to obliterate all the glories and benefits of Bannockburn. The victorioiis army marched direct on Perth, which it quickly reduced. Baliol was rapidly pursued by the Earl of March and Sir Archibald Douglas, whoso united armies still amouiitod to near 40,000 men. They blockaded Perth both by land and water, and proposed to reduce it by famine. But Baliol's ships attacked the Scottish ones, gained a complete victory, and thus opened the com- munication with Perth from the sea. This compelled the Scots to disband for want of provisions to maintain a long siege. The adherents of BaUol's family, and all tliose IPho in any such crisis are ready to faU to the winning power, now came flocking in ; the nation was actually conquered by this handful of men, and Baliol, on the tion of that marriage could be obtained. Edward listened to this, but the prompt removal of the ro3-al pair from Dumbarton Ca.-5tlo to France, and the defeat of Baliol, which as promptly followed, annihilated that unprin- ciidcd scheme. No sooner wero these scandalous pro- posals known in Scotland, than a spirit of intense indig- nation fired the minds of the patriotic nobles. The successors of those groat men who had achieved thj freedom of Scotland under Pobcrt Bruce, John Randolph, second son of the regent ; Sir Archibald Douglas, the younger brother of the good Lord James ; Sir William Douglas, a natural son of tho Lord James, possessor of the castle of Ilormitagc, in LiddesJale, and thcnco called tho Knight of Liddesdale, a valiant and wealtliy man, but fierce, cruel, and treacherous; and Sir Andrew Murray, of Bothwell, who had married Christiana, the sister of Eobert Bruce, and aunt of the young King David, were the chiefs and leaders of tho nation. They suddenly assembled a force, and attacked BaHol, who was feasting at Annan, in Dumfriesshire, where ho had gone to keep his Christmas. On tho night of the 16th A.D. 1332.1 EDWAED ni. The Troops of Lord }.Iontaout8- in the SubWranean Passage. 368 CASSELL'S ILLUSTBATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1334. of December, a body of horse under Sii- Archibald, the young Earl of Mora}', and Sir Simon Frazer, made a dash into the town to surprise him ; and he only escaped by springing upon a horse ■without any saddle, and himself nearly without clothes, leaving behind him his brother Henry slain. His reign had only lasted about three months. Ho escaped to England and to Edward, who received him kindly. The Scotch borderers, elated with this success, rushed in numbers into England, there committing their usual excesses, and thus furnishing Edward with a valid plea for attacking Scotland, and inducing the Pr.rliament to support him in it, which before it had hesitated to do. Edward marched north- ward with an army not numerous, but well armed and disciplined, and in the month of May, 13:53, invested Berwick, defended by Sir William Keith and a strong garrison. Sir Andrew Murray, the regent, and the Euight of Liddesdale were taken prisoners in some of the skir- mishes, and Sir Archibald being immediately named regent in the place of Murray, advanced with a large army to relievo Sir William Keith, who had engaged to surrender Berwick if not succoui-ed by the 20th at sun- rise. On the 19th, Douglas, after a severe Biarch, anixcd at an eminence called Halidou Hill, a mile or more uoi l .; of Berwick. It had been the plan of Douglas to avoid a pitched battle with so powerful an enemy, and to en- deavour to wear him out by a system of skirmishes and surprises, but the impatience of his soldiers overruled his caution. His arm}' was drawn up on the slope of the hill, and Edward moved with all his force from Berwick to attack them. The ground, now fine, solid, and cultivated laud, is represented tlieu to have been extremely boggy. The Scots, however, dashed through the bogs, and then up the hill at the English, whose archers received them with a steady and murderous discharge of arrows. "The arrows," says Tytler (quoting from an old manuscript), " flew thick as motes in the sunbeams, and the Scots fell to the ground by thousands." Douglas dismounted his heavy-armed cavalry to give firmness and impetus to the charge. The Earl of Eoss led on the infantry, and King Edward at his side fought on foot in front of the battle. The Soots, thougli they fought desperately, yet, as, from the mar.shy ground, they could not come near the archers, and were out of breath with running up the hill, wore thi'own into confusion and gave way. The English cavalry under the king, but still more a body of Irish auxiliaries under Lord Darcy, pursued fiercely, giving little quarter. The slaughter was terrible, amounting to 30,000 Scots, and — if the accounts are to be believed — only one knight, an esquue, and thirteen private soldiers of tho English fell. Nearly the whole of the Scottish nobles and officers were killed or made prisoners. Amongst the slain were Douglas, the regent himself, the Earls of Eoss, Sutherland, and Monteith. Berwick surrendci'ed, and Edward onco more overran the countiy. He again seized and garrisoned the castles, again exacted public homage from Baliol, and compelled him to cede Berwick, Dunbar, Eoxburgh, Edinburgh, and all tho south-east counties of Scotland — tho best and most fertile portion of the kingdom — which were declared to be made pai't and parcel of England. Such were the consequences of the latal battle of Halidou Hill. Edward left an army of Irish and English to support his wretched vassal in his fragment of a kingdom ; but no sooner did ho turn homevturds than the indignant Scots drove Baliol from even that, and compelled him to seek refuge amongst the English garrisons of the south of Scotland. In the following years, 1335 and 1336, Edward was again obliged to make fresh expeditions into Scot- land to support Baliol. Whenever the English king appeared the Scots retired to their mountain fastnesses, while Edward and his army overran the country with little opposition, bui'nt the houses, and laid waste the lands of those whom he styled rebels ; but, whenever he returned to England, Ihcy came forth again, only the more embittered against the contemptible minion of the English king, the more determined against the tyranny of England. The regent. Sir Andrew Murray, pursued with untiring activity Baliol and his adherents. When Edward marched homow-ai-d to spend in Loudon the Christmas of 1336, he left Scotland to all appearance per- fectly prostrate, and flattered himself that it was com- pletely subdued. ISTever was it further from such a condition. One spirit only animated the Scottish nation — that of eternal resistance to the monarch who had in- flicted on it such calamities, and set a slave on its thi-ono. The Scots sought and wore furnished assistance from France ; and now came the diversion from that quarter which proved the salvation of Scotland ; now began to work the seeds sown, the elements infused into the Eng- lish monarchy by Edward I.'s uupiinoipled abandonment of his engagement with Count Guy of Flanders for the mai'riage of his daughter Philippa with Edward of Caer- narvon, and his alliance, for political purposes, with Franco. Edward now claimed the throne of France in right of his mother, and prepared to enforce that claim by his arms. Hence came those long and bloody wars with France which produced an hereditary enmity be- tween the two nations, and by this means, tho attention and resoui'ces of England divided in the vain attempt to subjugate both France and Scotland, insiu'ed tho ultimate loss of both those countries. The ambition of Edward overshot itself. Had he confined his efforts to either of those great objects, ho might have succeeded. By far the most important was the annexation of Scotland. It was a truly statesmanlike aim to make one consolidated kingdom of the island ; but Edward, with all his talents, had no conception of tho manner in -nhich this was to be effected. If Scotland were to be won by arms, tho whole of those arms should have been concentrated on that object alone. But it never could be effected by that means; it required a higher development of political wisdom and respect for international rights than wore then arrived at. Boforo wo outer, hov.'over, on the nari rative of the great French contest, we must niontiou a few facts which show the state to which Scotland v>'as reduced at this lime, and the iuviueible courage of the peopli', v.-hich called out singular displays of it, even by tho women. After the fatal battle of Halidou Hill, throughout all Scotland only four castles and one small lower held out for David Bruce. The castles of Lochleven, Kildrummie, and Dunbar, three out of tho four, were distinguished by sieges which deserve notice. Lochleven Castle stood on an island, iu the loch or lake of that name, at Kiu'bss, in A.D. 1336.] OPEBATIONS AGAINST SCOTLAND. SCO Fifoshire. It was held by Alan Vipout, and was besieged by Sir John Stirling with an Jjuglish army. As tho island is low, Stirling thought ho could draw out the garrison by blocking up the outlet to the loch. This was clloctcd by throwing stones and earth into the small river Loven till a huge mound was raised. But Vipont, awaro of what was doing, sent in the night a boat with four men,. who cut through tho mound, so that the conEued waters broke forth with fury, and swept away the tents, baggage, and troops of the besiegers. Tho remains of this mound are pointed out to this day. Tho castle of Kildruininio, which played so con.spicuous n part in the war of Edward I., was now defended by Christiana Bruce, who, as wo have said, was married to Sir Andrew MuiTay, now regent. It was one of tho chief places of rofugo for the patriots, and therefore was be- sieged by David Hastings, Earl of Atholl, one of the disinherited lords. Sir Andrew Murray, determined to march to the relief of his wife. He called to his assist- ance tho knight of Liddesdalo, who had boon in captivity with him in England, Sir Alexander Earosay, of Dal- wolsy, and tho Earl of March. Thoy could only raise 1,000 men, and Atholl had 3, COO. But whilo on march Jhey were joined by one Jolm Craig, a royalist of Scot- laud, who had been released by Atholl from confinement on promise of a large ransom. This ransom was due on tho morrow, and Craig was unable or unwilling to pay it. He was glad to get rid of Atholl, and therefore undertook to lead them through tho forest of Braomar, so as to take Atholl by surprise. On the way the people of the neighbourhood also joined them. Atholl was greatly startled by suddenly perceiving the enemy upon him, but he disdained to fly. There was a small brook between him and the Scots, and the knight of Liddesdale keeping his men from crossing it, Atholl rushed over to attack thorn, when Liddesdalo cried out, "Now is our time!" charged down the hill, bore Atholl and his forces back into the brook, and slew the earl and dispersed his force, thus entirel}' relieving the castle. This was called the Battle of Kiblone, and greatly noticed by tho Scots as fought on St. Andrew's Day, 1335. Another of tho most remarkable defences of these castles was that of Dunbar by the Countess of March. Sho was the daughter of the r. nowned Thomas Eandolph, first Earl of Moray, of that family whose exploits wo have recounted, and from her complexion was called Black Agnes. Tho castle of Dunbar was extremely etrong, being built on a chain of rocks running into the sea, and the only connection with the main land was well fortified. Montague, Earl of Salisbury, besieged her, and brought forward engines to throw stones, such as were used to batter down walls before the invention of cannon. One of these, with a strong roof to defend the assailants, standing up like a hog's back, was called tho sow. TMien Black Agnes saw this engine advancing, she called out to the Earl of Salisbury, in derision, " Bewaro Blontagow, For fiirrow sball thy sow." She had oixlered a huge stone to be set on the wall over the castlo gate, and as soon as the sow came under this was let fall, by which means the roof of the machine was crushed in, and as the English soldiers ran out, thoy wore shot down by a flight of arrow.s; whereupon the Black Agnes shoutod out to Salisbury, "Behold the litter of English pigs I " As the oarl brought up firesh engines, and sent pon- derous stones against her battlements, Black Agues stood there, and wiped disdainfully the fragments of the broken battlements away -n-ith her handkerchief, aa a matter of no moment. The oarl riding near to reconnoitre, an arrow meant for him shot down a man at his side. "That," said the earl, '" is one of my lady's love tokens. Black Agnos's love shafts pierce to tho heart." Tho countess next tried to inveigle the earl into her power. She sent a fellow into the English camp who protended to betray tho castle. The carl was caught by the trick, and came at midnight to tho gates, which weic to be opened to him by the traitor. Opened thoy were ; but one John Copland, the oarl's esquire, riding in before him, the guards were too quick ; thoy dropped tho port- cullis, thinking Uio earl had entered, and so shut him out and betrayed their stratagem. Black Agues was at lenglh i-clievcd by Sir Alexander Eamsay of Dalwolsy, who broxight up forces both 1 y sea and land ; and tho Scots, delighted with the spirit of tho undaunted defendrcss of the castle, celebrated her far and wide in their minstrel songs. One of these sufiiciently portrays the character of this Scottish amazon : — " That brawling, boisterous, Scottish wench Kept such a stir in towers and trench, That, came I early or caine I late, I found Blacli A^os in the gate." The brave Sir Andi-cw Murray, the regent, died in 133S, while this contest was raging on all sides. He had dis- charged his office with the greatest spirit, patriotism, and wisdom, and his death was a severe loss to the country. CHAJPTER LXIV. Preparations for War with France — The utter Groundlessness of Edward III.'s Claims on tho French Crown — Alliance with tlic Princes of Germany and the Netherlands — Artavelde, tlio Brewer of Ghent — Couuter-alhances made by Philip of France — Tde First Invasion of France abortive — Edward's Debt? and I»iificu!tics at Home — Renews the War— Groat Naval Victory of Edward at Sluya —Siege of Toumay — A Tr\ice — IVesh 'lYoubles at Home — Resistance of the Clergy— The Afl'airs of Brittany — Bcnewed War — Second Truce- Fresh Invasion of France— Great Victory of Crcy— War with Scotland— Capture of Calais. We are now arrived at a crisis in our histoi-y which marks at once tho vale .nd the unscrupulous ambition of the English kings, 'iueio is no period of our annals in which the bravery of our countrymen assumed a mors marvellous character, or in which it was displa5'od in a more unjust cause. Whenever we would boast of the martial ascendancy of the nation, wc are siuo to pro- nounce the words Crefy and Foictiers, but we are quite as certainly silent as to the political merits of the contest in which those names became celebrated. The invasions of Franco by Edward III. raised tho martial glory of England to the highfst pitch. There is nothing in tho miracles of bravery done at Leuctra, Marathon, or Ther- mopylro which can surpass those performed at Ciecy, Poictiors, and on other occasions ; but thern the sjilen- dour 01 the parallel ends. The Greek battle-fields aro sanctified by the imperishable renown of patriotism ; those of England, at that period, aro distinguished only by empty ambition and unwarrantable aggression. Tho 310 OASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTi/fiY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. IS37. Greeks fought and conquered for the very existence of their country and thoir liberties ; the English, to crush those of an independent people. The wars commenced by Edward HI. inflicted the most direful miseries on France, were continued for generations, and perpetuated a spirit of hostility between the two great neighbour countries, which has been prolific of bloodshed, and most injurious to the progress of liberty and civilisation. The contest, as far as Edward III. was concerned, ended with a formal renunciation of his pretensions on the French crown, and in the acquisition of nothing but the town and district of Calais and Guisnes, destined to be lost, at a future day, with every other English fief and freehold in France. The impolicy of Edward III. was equal to his spirit of aggression. He was not content to attempt the complete subjugation of Scotland, which his grandfather had in- vaded on pleas as empty as his own regarding France, and whore, during the wars of three reigns, all the power and wealth of England had been put forth, only to prove that you may exterminate a brave people, but you can- not conquer it. While he was no nearer the real annexa- tion of Scotland than his grandfather was the first day that he advanced beyond Berwick, he aspired to coerce a still more extensive empire. The real source of this great movement was merely military ambition. Edward claimed to be the rightful heir to the crown of France through his mother. But it had always been held in that country that no female could succeed to the throne : no such occurrence had ever taken place. It was declared that this succession was prohibited by a clause in the Salic code — the code of an ancient t^ibe among tho Franks. This clause, when carefully examined by tho highest legal antiquaries, has been asserted not to bear out this principle of exclusion positively, but only to favour such exclusion. On this presumption, however, the French nation had uniformly acted for nearly 1,000 years. The ancient Franks were too barbarous and turbulent to submit to a female ruler, and those who succeeded them steadily pursued the same practice, pass- ing over female heirs, and placing on the throne men in their stead. The third race of French kings had trans- mitted the crown in this manner from Hugh Capet to Louis Hutin, for eleven generations; during which period no female, nor any male, even, who founded his title on a female, had been suffered to mount the throne. Edward asserted that in England and in other coun- tries such claim was always considered valid ; that a son could and would succeed to his mother as well as to his father; and this view of tho case was supported by the Government lawyers of England and some jurists abroad in English pay ; but then tho succession was not to take place in England, but in Franco, whoso whole history and practice wore opposed to it. The French maintained, and truly, that it was a fundamental law that no foreigner could reign in France ; and that it was a chief object of this law to exclude the husbands and children of those princesses of France who married foreigners. To put the matter still further beyond question, tho ParHamont of France, in tho time of Philip the Long, had passed a solemn and deliberate decree, declaring expressly that all females wero for over incapable of succeeding to the Cfowa of Franco, What right, then, had Edward to dictate to the French nation his own views in opposition to theii-s ? None whatever. By custom, the usage of nearly 1,000 years, and by express recent law, the principle of the French nation was clearly established. True, Edward was nearer in blood to the throne than Philip of Valois, who had now succeeded. He claimed from his mother, who was daughter of the fourth preceding king, Philip the Fair, and sister of the three preceding kings ; while Philip de Valois was only cousin-german to the deceased king, Charles le Bel. But all this the laws and practice of Franco pronounced to amount to nothing. That no female could succeed, or could transmit succession to her offspring, over that there was no passing legally ; and if Edward had succeeded in proving a vaUd claim from tho female side, he would only have proved his own exclusion ; for the last three kings had aU left daughters who were still alive, and who all stood before him in the order of succession. In a legal point of view, then, Edward had not a leg to stand upon in this question, whether as a king of French or of English descent ; fo r n o race of monarchs had made such arbitrary workwi^^u?cession as* tho kings of England, from the Conqueror downwards. Besides this, Edward, according to all the laws of honour and of nations then prevailing, had practically renounced any claims of tho kind which he might pretend to. The French king had succeeded to tho throne in 1329. Tho peers of the x-ealm had declared the crown his. The Par- liament of Paris, and after that the states general of tho kingdom had confirmed their judgment ; and not only all France, but aU. Europe had recognised him as rightful possessor of the throne. In 1331 the King of France called upon Edward to come over and do homage for his province of Guionne. Philip, who was an able man, and of years of experience, was too prudent to allow any one to retain the shadow of a claim against him. He lost no time in summoning so powerful a rival as the King of England to do that homage which would at once cut oli any real claim, had it existed ; and, on Edward seeming to hang back, was prepai-ing to seize his fief by force of arms as forfeited. To have refused to yield this feudal homage would have been virtually to renounce his right to the province, or to involve him in a war with this powerful monarch. He therefore went over to France, having first, as if that would have any legal or rightful effect, secretly in his own council entered a protest against this act prejudicing his own claims on the French crown through his mother. Such have often been the private reservations by which kings and other men have sought to give a plea to their own consciences for the violation of the most public and binding acts. Edward was at that time about eighteen years of ago, brave and ambitious. Ho was attended by a splendid retinue of peers and knights, and was met by the King of Franco with a similarly imposing train. The act of homago was pubhcly performed in the cathedral of Amiens. Edward appeared in a robe of crimson velvet, embroidered with leopards of gold. He came wearing his armour, girt with his sword, and with his golden spurs of knighthood on his heels. Philip of France received him seated in a chair of state, before which was placed a cushion for tho King of England to kneel upon. No i.D. 1340.] THE CAMPAIGN IN FEANCE. 871 doubt, as this act implied vassalage, so far as any lands in France were concerned evorj- precaution was taken that 80 powerful a monarch of a neighbouring nation, and a suspected rival, should make no equivocal submission. Edward, on his part, was careful to give none but tho smallest and most indispensable tokens of dependence, and refused to kneol. On this the grand chamberlnin of France, unquestionably well instructed beforehand by his royal master, not only insisted that ho should kneel, iut that ho should perform his homage by laying aside his regal ornaments, his sword and girdle and spurs, nis anger at this humiliating demand before the assem- bled chivalry and high-born ladies of Franco was excessive ; but no remonstrance could move the gi'and chamberlain, and he was obliged to submit, and kneel bare-headed and stripped of all the marks of his royal rank. There can be no doubt that his indignation at this proceeding whetted his enmit)' against Philip de Valois, and led in no trifling degree to his future terrible invasions of his kingdom. Yet it was not tiU. 1336, five years afterwards, and seven after Philip had sat quietly on his throne, that he openly declared the superiority of his own claims to it, and his determination to assert them. Tho King of England had just cause of quarrel with Philip of France, which might deserve chastisement, but could afford no ground for an attempt to dethrone him. He had repeatedly sent money and men to the aid of the Scots, and to pave the way for the return of the young king and queen, who were exiles in France. But the immediate instigator of this .""nterprise was the brother- in-law of Philip, Robert of Artois, who had justly inouiTed the king's resentment, and had fled the country in dis- guise. This Robert, Count of Ai'tois, was a man of a fiery temper, and unprincipled. He had married the king's sister; and, being in high i-vour with him, hoped to prevail upon him to reverse tho acts of Philip tho Fair, which had prevented his succession to the earldom of Artois. Eobert was undoubtedly the male heir ; but his aunt Matilda being married to Otho, Duke of Burgundy, and his two daughters to two sons of Philip the Fair, that monarch adjudged the county of Artois to the heir female, and this jud?ment was confirmed by Philip the Long. The count had oleai'ly just cause of jomplaint, and on the death of Charles the Fair he zea' jusly sup- ported the claims of Philip of Valois, and ) oped, from the services which he then rendered, as well as from his alliance by marriage, that the king would now reverse this settlement of the county of Artois i r his favour. Philip, however, though he held the count in the highest favour, and consulted him on all occasior s of state, yet declined to reverse the decisions of his two predecessors, and satisfied himself with conferring on him the earldom of Beaumont le Roger. But this by no moans contented Eobert of Artois. Ho forged a will, as that of his grandfather, settling tho county upon him, and presented it to tho king. Philip, who instantly recognised tho forgery, denounced so mean and criminal an act in no measured terms ; and the count retired, muttoviiig that he who placed the crown on Philip's head knew how to take it off again. These words being reported to Philip, ho appeared to have lost all command of himself: he denounc-id and condomnnd thi count for forgery, degraded him from all honours and offices, con- fiscated his property, and bauished him from Franco. His rage did not stop there. Ho seized and imprisoned tho count's wife, though his own sister, on pretence of her cognisance of tho fraud ; burnt at tho stake a woman of the house of Bethune, as the actiial framer of tho deed, and as having practised by sorcery against the king's life. He still pursued the fugitive count, by interfering to prevent his stay in Brabant, where ho had taken refuge. However righteous might bo this indignation, it waa far from politic, for Robert of Artois was a very able man, and was thus driven into tho arms of Edward oi England, where he proved a most formidable and most perseveri-ng enemy. He exerted all his art and persuasion with Edward to assert his title to the crown of Franco. The king and Robert were united by no common prin- ciple, except that of professed resentment against tho King of France, and of having just claims in his country ; though one was excluded by male heirship and the other by female. The King of France, sensible of tho mischief the count might create in tho English court against him, called upon Edward to expol him from the country, and threatened, in case of refusal, to fall upon Guicnne. This only added to the anger of Edward and to tho ostensible motives of invasion. The King of France issued a sen- tence of felony and attainder against tho count and against every vassal of his crown who harboured him. Edward retorted the protection which he had given to his enemy, tho King of Scots, and commenced active measui-os for invading France. Ho made alliances with various princes of the Netherlands and Germany ; his father-in-law, tho Count of Hainault, was his active agent, and very soon wore engaged the Duke of Brabant, the Duke of Guoldics, the Archbishop of Cologne, tho Marquis of Juliers, the Count of Namur, tho Lords of Baquen and Fauquemont, and the people of Flanders. Tho Earl of Flanders adhered to Philip, who also engaged the Kings of Navarre and Bohemia, the Dukes of Brittany, Austria, and Louvain, the Palatine of the Rhino, and some other petty princes of Germany. Edward expected more efficient aid from the Flemings than from any other of his allies ; they had g:own rich and considerable through trade, and had dealings with England, whence they received wool, and where they found good customers for their manufactures. They were the first people in tho northern countries of Europe who had made progress in the arts and in manufactures, and their self-earned affluence had the usual effect of inspiring them with a spirit of independence. They had resisted and thrown off the oppi'essions of their nobles, and ex- pelled the earl, who was not disposed to consent to their bold assumptions. A wealthy brewer, Jaco'o van Arta- velde, a sort of Cromwell of the Netherlands, had, by tho force of his character, not only led them on, but placed himself at their head, and now exercised a power equal to that of any sovereign. To him Edward applied to enlist the Flemings in his favour; and though he was himself as deeply imbued as any man living with tho feudal spirit and all its ideas of the subserviency of tho people, in this case it was convenient to overlook it. Van Artaveldo entered heartily into Edward's views, and inspired his ronntrymon with them, who ha 1 a great dislike to Philip of France, because he had supported 372 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAKD. [A.D. 1340. their earl against them. He invited Edward over to Flanders, and promised him vigorous aid. Edward, before embarking in this serious imdertaking, called for the advice of his Parliament, and solicited its support, which was promptly given. It voted him 20,000 sacks of wool, the very commodity of all others acceptable to the Flemings, and of the supposed value of £100,000. "With the price of this wool he could also pay his German allies. Besides this grant, he levied a heavy contribution on the tin of Cornwall, pawned the jewels of the crown, and raised money by all possible means — amongst others, seizing on the property of the Lombards, who now exer- cised the trade of money-lending, formerly carried on by the Jews. With a numerous fleet, he set sail from Orwell, in Suffolk, on the 15th of July, 1338, attended by a consider- able body of English troops and some of his nobilty. On landing at Antwerp he foimd it difficult to move his various allies, who, like continental allies in all ages, were much fonder of receiving their subsidies than of fighting. The Germans demui-red to advanoo against France except by authority of the Emperor of Germany, who, therefore, conferred on Edward the title of vicar of the empire. The Flemings, who wore vassals of France, had like scruples to combat, which were eventually over- come by Edward assuming, at the instigation of Van Artavelde, the style of King of Franco, and, under plea of the right it conferred, claiming thair aid in deposing Philip of Valois as the usurper of his realm. By this act Edward made that breach between this country and France which it has taken so many ages to heal, and which has been the spring of incalculable miseries to both countries. Till thoi^ the nobility, coming originally from Normandy, were to be found almos'' as frequently at the English court as at that of France, and the two countries seemed little different from the wide empire of one people under two or more sovereigns. In this fatal epoch, however, that unanimity was destroyed, and rivaliios, animosities, and rivers of blood took its place. This step was not taken by Edward without great misgivings and reluctance ; and no sooner was it made, than his aUies began to show symptoms of backwardness. The Duke of Brabant, the most powerful amongst the princes, seemed inclined wholly to withdraw from his alliance, and could be only held to his engagements by fresh privileges of trade being granted to his subjects, and a marriage contracted between the Black Prince and the daughter of the duke. To move the Germans, who were only concerned to get as much of the king's money as possibla, he found it necessary to promise an attack on Cambray, a city of the empire which Philip had seized npon, or, in other words, to pay them for allowing him to fight their own battles. Finding that the attempt was useless, he then led his allies to the fi'ontiers of France, where many of them threw off all pretence of doing that (or which they had been so liberally paid, and refused to fight against France. Amongst these were tho Count of Namur and tho Count of Hainault, Edward's own brother-in-law (the old count being dead), who now dis- covered that they were vassals of France, and could not possibly direct their arms against it. "We do not read that on this discovciy they attempted to refund the money thoj' had poojieted for this very purpose. Deserted by these mercenaries, Edward, however, still advanced and entered France, encamping at Vironfosse, near Capelle, with 50,000 men, chiefly foreigners. Philip came against hiTn with an army of nearly twice that amount, consisting of his own subjects, and having the advantage of being accompanied, blessed, and encouraged by the Pope — a most inspiriting circumstance in that age. Benedict XII. lived then at Avignon, and was a de- pendent on Franco, besides being incensed at Edward making an alliance with Ludvig of Bavaria, who lay under tho ban of his excommunication. Edward marched as far as Peronne and St. Quentin, burning the villages and laying waste the country. The French king, however, avoided hazarding an engagement, and Edward, having made a detour by the Ardennes, found his aiTnies ex- hausted, and returned to Ghent. There Benedict en- deavoured to negotiate a peace between the two monarchs; but Edward, spite of the utter failure of his campaign, refused to listen to it. Yet his situation was jjitiablo, and his feelings oould be by no means enviable. He had consumed and, indeed, anticipated, his whole year's revenue; he had seized largely on the substance of his subjects, had pawned everything belonging to himself and his queen, and was now in a manner in pawn him- self, for he had incurred debts to his miserable, useless allies to the amount of £300,000. They would not allow him to return to England even to raise fresh resources, without leaving his queen behind, as a pledge of his return. Thus all his grand undertaking had ended in worse than smoke ; in nothing whatever performed, and in formidable engagements incurred. In February, 1340, he managed to get over to England, where nothing but difficulties and mortifications awaited him. He had sent over during the campaign to "btaiu fresh supplies from Parliament through his sou, whom ho had left guardian. Parliament offered to giant him 30,000 more sacks of wool, but then they demanded in return that tho king should make considerable abate- ments both of royal licence and prerogative. The king had caused sheriffs and other placemen to be elected into Parliament to increase his facility of obtaining grants. This stretch of power the Parhament very properly in- sisted should cease, and to that the king consented ; but they went oa next to demand that the ancient privileges of purveyance and levying of feudal aids, for knighting tho king's oldest son and marrying his eldest daughter, should bo abolished. There the king demurred ; these were his ancient rights, and not all his necessities, and tho temptation of the 30,000 sacks of wool, could induce him to sacrifice them. "When he appeared in person, )i6 obtained better terms, but not without a struggle. Par- liament now called for a confirmation of the owo charters, which tho kings of those ages were always breaking, and which Edward had to confirm fifteen times in the course of his reign. This, therefore, he probably considered no great matter ; but Parliament also asked for a confirma- tion of tho privileges of boroughs, a pardon for old debts and offences, and some reforms in tho administration of tho common law. In return for these concessions, it offered him tho liberal supplies of a ninth fleece, lamb, and sheep, and the same of the movables of the bur- gesses ; as well as a duty of forty shillings on each last of leather, on each sack of wool, ajid on each "^c^ ^eopskino K.D. loiO.] EDWAUD in. r,73 The Battle of SUiys. (See page 32 374 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D, 1341. exported, for two years ; and because these would come in too slowly, they gave kim 20,000 sacks of wool at once, to be deducted from these taxes. Parliament also took a very prudent precaution, in affording him the sinews of war, to protest against the assumption of the title of King of France, declaring that they owed him no obei- sance as King of France, and that the kingdoms must for ever remain separate and independent of each other. While the king was making these preparations for the renewal of the war, Philip of France was using strenuous axertions to collect a fleet powerful enough to prevent his landing. He had sought this aid fi-om the Genoese, at that time the great maritime power ; as we shall soon find that he had also employed them, to a great extent, as archers in his army. The fleet numbered 400 sail, manned by Genoese sailors, and containing an army of 40,000 men; that is, about 100 men on an average to a vessel; from which we may form some idea of the smallness of the ships of those times. Edward, informed of this, col- lected also a fleet, with which, though consisting of only 240 sail, he was impatient to set out and engage that of his rival. His council advised him to wait till he had a force more equal ; but Edward set out on the 22nd of June, many English ladies going over in other vessels to pay their respects to the queen. On the 24th the English fleet was oS' the harbour of Sluys, in Flanders, and there found the French fleet lying to prevent their disem- barkation. Their masts and streamers, says Froissart, apjjeared like a wood. When Edward saw them, he ex- claimed, " Ha ! I have long desii'ed to fight the French, and now I wLU do it, by the grace of God and St. George ! " t; ■ The nest morning, having placed the vessels bearing the ladies at such a distance that they might see the battle in safety, Edward, with the instinctive address of a British naval captain, manoeuvred so as to get the wind of the enemy. This movement, being mistaken by the French for a sign of fear in the king, induced them to come poui-ing out of the harbour; by which Edward gained another object which ho sought, that of having them more in his power of attack. The battle commenced at ten in the morning, and lasted nine hours. During the fight the Genoese showered in upon the English their arrows from their deadly crossbows ; but they were briskly answered by the long bows of the English ; and when all the arrows were spent, they seized each others' ships with grappling irons and chains, and the men-at-arms fought hand to hand with swords and axes, as if on land. The English, fighting in the presence anl under the daring example of theii- king, displayed the utmost courage, and finally victory decided for them. They took or destroyed nearly the whole of the French fleet. Fifteen thousand of the enemy — some authors say more — were killed, or perished in the sea. To make the catastrophe the more complete, the Flemings, seeing the battle incline for the English, rushed down to the shore in great numbers, and cut off the retreat of the French, making terrible slaughter amongst them. Edward then accomplished his landing with the greatest eclat, inspiiing his allies with some temporary spirit. This is a i-emarkable engagement, being the first great naval victory of England, the first brilliant proof of that maritime ascendancy which awaited this country. So great was the defeat of the French, that no one dared to breathe a syllable of it in the hearing of Philip ; and it was only made known to him by the court jester. Some one speaking of the English, " Pho ! " said the fool, " the English are but cowards." "Why so?" said the king. " Because," added the fool, " they did not dare the other day at Sluys to leap into the sea from their ships like the French and Normans." Edward had lost about 4,000 men himself in the battle, but still he had no lack of followers. The splendour of this victory, and the fame of the large sums which he had brought with him, gathered his allies about him like swarms of locusts. Nearly 200,000 men advanced with him towards the French frontiers, but achieved nothing of consequence. Of these, 50,000, under Robert of Ai-tois, laid siege to St. Omer. A single sally of the governor was enough to squander these untutored forces, and not- withstanding the abiKties of Robert of Artois, they could never again be ' collected. Edward invested Toiu'nay, which was defended by a strong garrison ; and when reduced to distress, Philip appeared with a large army, but avoided coming to action. Edward, provoked at this caution, sent him a challenge to single combat, which he declined. While the armies lay in this jiosition, and Edward had wasted ton weeks, effecting nothing and pay- ing his numerous army of useless allies, Jane, Countess of Hainault, sister to Philip and mother-in-law of Ed- ward, came forward as a mediatrix between them. She had retired from the world to a convent, but this destruc- tive qiiarrel between persons so near to her called her forth to endeavour to reconcile them. Her exertions were seconded by the Pope and cardinal ; but all that they could effect was a truce for one year. Phili2i managed soon after to win over the Emperor of German}', who revoked Edward's title of imperial vicar, and his other allies rapidly withdrew as his money failed. He was now harassed by them as most importunate cre- ditors, and was glad to steal away to England, where he arrived in tho worst of humoiu-s. He had involved him- self deeply in debt, and had achieved nothing but his naval victory. The anger which was excited by his foreign creditors fell on his subjects at home. Landing unexpectedly, he found the Tower very negligently guarded, and he immediately committed the constable and all in charge of it to prison. He then let his ven- geance fall on the officers of the revenue, and collectors of the taxes, who had so greatly failed him in his need. Sir John St. Paul, keeper of the privy seal, Sir John Stonoro, chief justice, and Andrew Aubre}', Mayor of London, were displaced and imprisoned, as were also the Bishops of Chichester and Lichfield, the chancellor and treasurer. Stratford, Archbishop of Canterbiu-y, to whom the charge of collecting the new taxes had chiefly been entrusted, also fell under his displeasure ; but he assumed an attitude of defiance, threatening excommunication against any one daring to execute these which he tei-med illegal arrests, and appealed to Magna Charta in behalf of himself and brethi-en. The king appointed com- missioners to inquire into the guilt of all concerned. He issued a proclamation, accusing the archbishop of having embezzled or misapplied the taxes intended for the king's use. The archbishop denied the charge, and, supported by the clergy in a, regular combination against the king; A.r. 13il.1 CONTEST FOE THE DUKEDOM OF BEITTAXT. 370 accused him of arbitrary acts and infringemeuts of the constitution, telling him that the favour of the Church was higher than that of the state, inasmuch as the priests had to answer at the Divine tribunal for the conduct of Genoese Bowman. kings themselves, and reminding him that prelates before then had cited emperors to their seats of judgment. This dispute was carried on with great heat on both sides ; but the king, driven by the clamours of his creditors, was obliged to call a Parliament ; and though he omitted to summon Stratford, the archbishop appeared before the gates arrayed in full pontificals, with crozier in hand, and attended by an imposing train of bishops and priests. He demanded admittance as the highest peer of the realm ; but it was not till Edward had kept him there two days that- he admitted him, and even became reconciled to him. The king's necessities, no doubt, made him give way, for he had difficulties sufficient without the opposition of the clergy. He was overwhelmed with debts, for which he was paying ruinous interest, and was worried both by his foreign and domestic creditors. His attempts on France, which had brought him into this humiliating condition, had proved utter failures. Parliament declined to assist him, except on its usual conditions of fresh restrictions on his power. The barons claimed that peers should only be tried by peers ; they called for a new subscription of the Great Charter ; they demanded that no offices should be fiUed, except by the advice of his council ; and that, at the commencement of every session, he should resume all offices, in order to inquire into their faithful discharge. Edward, as was his wont, signed all these and other de- mands, obtained his grant of 20,000 more sacks of wool, and then declared that the conditions to which he had agreed were void, because they had been extorted. It was hoped that the truce which had been entered into between France and England might be succeeded by ft peace. Edward's total want of success might naturally have been expected to incline him to it ; but he claimed exemption from rendering homage for Ouienne, and that Philip should cease to support the King of Scots against him. Neither of these points would Philip yield, when an event took place which renewed the war with fresh spirit, and with the most wonderful change of fortune. This event was the disputed succession to the dukedom of Brittany. John III., duke of that province, died in April, 1.341. He had no children, but desiring that his niece Jane, the daughter of his younger but deceased brother Guy, Count of Penthievre, should succeed him, he had married her to Charles of Blois, nephew of the King of France. Before doing this, he had assembled the states of Brittany, which had fully assented ; all his vassals, and amongst them John do Montfort, the son of his also deceased brother Ai-thur. But, though John do Montfort had not dared to oppose the will of his uncle during his lifetime, no sooner was he dead than ho asserted his own higher claim to the duchy. He was, in fact, the true heir male. While Charles of Blois was at the coui't of France, soliciting the investiture of the duchy, John do Montfort rode at once to Nantes, took possession of the late duke's house and treasures, prevailed on the chief barons and bishops to recognise his right, and made himself master of Brest, Rennes, Hennebon, and other towns and fortresses. De Montfort, convinced that Philip would take part with his own kinsman, Charles of Blois, hastened to England, where he did homage to Edward, as the rightful king of France, for the duchy of Brittany, and proposed an alliance for the mutual maintenance of their claims in France. Edward instantlj- perceived the immense advan- tages which this new connection would give to his designs on that kingdom. All his enthusiasm for its conquest revived ; and this feeling was fanned into flame by Robert of Ai'tois. Edward closed vrith the offer, and De Montfort returned to Brittany to put it into a state of complete defence. He was speedily summoned to Paris to appear before the Parliament called by the king to decide this great cause. De Montfort boldly went ; but, finding himself charged with the offence of doing homage to Edward of England as his superior, he took just alarm, and made his escape from the city. The Parliament, as might have been expected, adjudged the duchy to Charles of Blois, declaring that John de Montfort had forfeited whatever claim ho might have by his treasonable homage to the King of England. Philip ordered his eldest son to march into Brittimy at the head of an army to assist Charles of Blois to expel John de Montfort. Under him, but the actual commander of the forces, was a celebrated warrior, Louis de la Cerda, com- monly called Don Louis of Spain ; and by his able conduct Nantes was speedily recovered, and De Montfort taken prisoner, sent to Paris, and confined in the Louvre, where he long remained. By this event the claims of De Mont- fort, and the new hopes of Edward, appeared extinguished together. Charles of Blois considered the war at an end, took possession of Nantes and other towns, and appeared to have before him a voiy easy business to establish him- self in the duchy. But all parties were sm-prised by a new incident, which very soon gave a more detei-mined character to the contest. Jane, the wife of De Montfort, sister to the Earl of Flanders, was in Rennes when her 376 -ASSELL'S ILLTJSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. rA.D. 1341. husband was made prisoner at Nantes. She instantly displayed the spirit of a great ■woman, and, instead of •weakly j-iolding to grief or fear, she immediately assem- bled the people of Rannes, presented her infant son to them, recommending him to their protection as the last remaining hope of their countiy, and declared her resolve to defend the duchy to the last against the usurper. She reminded them of the alliance of England, and promised thorn certain success. The audience, struck with ■wonder at her courage, and moved to tears by her appeal, vowed to stand by her to the death, and the same spirit animated all the other towns of Brittany. The brave lady, whom Proissart declares "had the coiu-age of a man and the heart of a lion," went fi'om place to place rousing the people, encoui-agiug the garrisons, and seeing that they were well provisioned and placed in a condition of the greatest strength. Finding that she could not hold Eennes against Charles of Blois and the French army, she shut herself up in Hennebon, and awaited succour from Eng- land. She dispatched to Edward fresh information of her situation, and with it her son, to be there in a place of safety, and, as it were, a pledge to the King of England of her fixed determination to defend her cause to the utmost. Charles of Elois speedily sat down before Hennebon with a great army of French, Bretons, Spaniards, and Genoese, and trusted to take the countess prisoner, and so put a real finish to the war. But the countess, in- spirating everybody by her words and example, made a stout defence. She herself put on armour, and rode through the streets on a uoble 'charger, exhorting the citizens to show themselves valiant. She -was at every post of danger, at the gates or on the wafls, where the enemy's arrows fell thickest. The very women, fired by her braveiy, cut short their gowns, that they might be the more active, and, tearing up the* 2)avoment of the streets, carried the stones to the walls, or prejjared jjots of quicklime and other missiles to discharge on the besiegers. Women of all ranks were seen engaged in these labours without distinction, and the countess con- tinually headed sorties on the enemy. One day, during a long and desperate assault, watching its progress from the walls, she perceived that Charles of Blois had di- rected such a force against the city, that a part of his camp was quite deserted. She instantly dismounted, called together a body of 300 brave knights and esquires, and, issuing from a gate opposite to that whore the French were so intently engaged, she led them, under the cover of some woods and hills, to the unguarded camp, upon which they fell, setting fire to the tents, baggage, and magazines, and doing immense mischief. When the besiegers saw their own quarters in flames, they cried "Treason! treason!" and rushed to the de- fence. The bravo countess, seeing that her retreat was cut off, instantly adopted her plan, bidding her followers to disband and make their way as they could to Brest. The countess herself galloped off, but was hotly pursued by Don Louis of Spain, as vindictive as he was brave, who came so near her as to kill several of her followers. The countess, however, made good her rendezvous with her followers, and speedily was on her way back, at the head, not of 300, but of ."500 men. Taking refuge in the cs-Ttlo of Auiray, and nratching thcii- opportunity. they left the castle at midnight, reached the neighbour- hood of Hennebon at sunrise, and, darting past the astonished besiegers, made good their entrance into the city on the sixth day after they had left it. This gallant and successful action on the part of the countess greatly amazed Charles of Blois and his army, and encouraged her own people, who received her with trumpets sound- ing and every demonstration of triumph. Stdl the French pressed on, and the English succours, daily and hourly looked for, did not arrive. The be- siegers had already made several breaches in the walls ; provisions were growing scarce ; the garrison was over- whelmed with fatigue and watching ; and, still worse, the Bishop of Leon, a friend. of Charles of Blois, was in the city, under the double character of an ecclesiastic and an ambassador, and was using all his endeavours to induce the countess to yield the city. His words had the worst effect on the inhabitants. He was continually going about describing the horrors attending a city given up to pillage, and recommending a capitulation. It was surprising that the countess, so quick to perceive her interests in other respects, should have tolerated his mis- chievous presence there. At length, however, he pre- vailed on her followers to propose a sui-render. The brave countess implored them to wait, assuring them that the English succours must arrive ; but the bishop now pressed his advantage : he called the Breton lords together again the next day, and, keeping up his com- munications with the besiegers without, they di-ew nearer, with Charles of Blois at their head, in readiness to take possession. The countess, in the greatest anxiety, kept a constant look-out from a tower commanding a view of the sea, and at the very moment when the traitorous Bishop of Leon was about to make over the citj- she descried a large squadron steering towards Hennebon. She immediately shouted — "Behold the Bed Cross! the English succours ! No capitulation ! " The people of the town all rushed to the ramparts to see the joyful sight. It was indeed the English fleet, which had been detained at sea forty days by contrary winds, but now was coming on ■with fuU sail. All thoughts of surrender, of course, were abandoned ; the disappointed bishop was dismissed to his equally dis- appointed master; and the English forces, consisting of 0,000 archers, and a body of heavy-armed cavaliy, under Sir Walter Jluuny, a Flemish knight, one of the greatest captains of the age, in Edward's service, landing, drove the besiegers back, and entered the town amid the joyful acclamations of the inhabitants'. The delighted countess received her deliverers ■with every courtesy. She ad- mitted the knights and captains into her o'wn castle, decorated with her finest tapestry, and dined herself at table with them. The next day, after dinner. Sir Walter Manny proposed to make a sally, and break down tho battering rams of tho French. The challenge was en- thusiastically answered by all the knights and warriors present. They united and rushed forth ■with 300 archers, charged the French furiously, took and broke to pieces the engines of the siege, drove back the besiegers, and, following up theii- advantage, fell on the camp and set fire to it, killing many of the enemy. The countess was so overjoyed at this signal triumph, that, on the retuj'n of Sir Walter to the city, she hastened to receive him. A.D. 1343.] THE WAR IN BEITTANT. 377 and, says Froissart, kissed him and his companions twice or thrice, " like a valiant lady." Tho biege was raised, and the French removed the war to Lower Brittany. JJou Louis of Spain wont along the coast attended by a strong foi-ce of Spaniards and Genoese, and indulged his disposition for cruelty by burning Gue- rante, and sacking the whole country as far as Uuimperle. Sir Walter, informed of this, pursued Don Louis with all speed, taking ship with 3,000 archers and a sufficient proportion of men-at-arms. Ho came up with him at Quiuiperle, seized his fleet and all his booty in the har- bour, fell upon Don Louis's force, killed his brother Don Alphonso, several}' wounded Don Louis himself, who hurriedly escaped in a skiif, and totally destroyed or dispersed his followers. Brilliant as these actions wero, the forces sent to sup- port the countess were far too inadequate to this object. Don Louis, smarting under this defeat, had again joined Charles of Blois, who had in the interim taken the im- portant towns of Vannes and Karhuis, and together they returned to invest Hennebon, against which they reared si.xteen engines of the largest size, with which they dread- fully battered and shook the walls. Tho undaunted countess, however, defended the ramparts with wool- sacks, and jeered the assailants by asking them why they did not bring up their army from Quimperle. Don Louis, against whom this was aimed, btu'ned for revenge, and endeavoured to obtain it in a most dastardly and un- knightly manner. Amongst the prisoners of Charles of Blois were two gallant Englishmen, Sir John Butler and Sir Matthew Trelawney. These brave men, out of spite to tho English, who had so signally defeated him, Don Louis demanded to bo delivered uji to him, that ho might put them to death in the sight of the whole army and city. Charles, who revolted at so dishonourable a proposal, refused ; but on Don Louis declaring that ho would renounce the cause of Charles for ever, they wero given up. Don Louis had them bound ready, and de- clared that after dinner he would strike off their heads under the city walls. No psrsuasious of his knights could divert him from his savage purpose. But Sir Walter Manny hearing of it, made a sally, in which Sir Aimery of Clisson, a Breton knight, attacking tho French in front, and Sir Walter, issuing from a private postern, and falling on tho camp, found tho two con- demned knights, and rescued them. The French were soon after compelled to raise the siege, and concluded a truce with the countess till tho following May, 1343. This interval tho Countess of Montfort employed in a voyage to England, soliciting fresh forces, which were dispatched in forty-six vessels, under Kobert of Ai-tois. Tho countess sailed with them ; and off Guernsey they encountered a French fleet of thii-ty-two ships, much larger and bettor than tho English ones, commanded by the redoubtable Don Louis of Spain, and manned by 1,000 men-at-arms and 3,000 Genoese crossbowmeu. The engagement was very fierce, tho countess in fuU armour taking the deck, and fighting sword in hand. The battlo was interrupted by night, accompanied by a terrible tempest. The English fleet, however, escaped safely into Hennebon. Soon after landing they took Vannes by stu-priae, and then they divided their forces ; Sir Walter Manny and the countess defending Hennebon, and tho Earls of Salisbuiy and Pembroke attacked Eennes, leaving Robert of Artois in Vannes. Hero he was suddenly surrounded by 12,000 French troops under Olivier de Clisson and De Beaumauoii-, who took tho city by storm. Robert of Artois uarrowlj- escaped, but so severely wounded that he took shipping for England, where he soon died. So perished a man who more than any other had caused this bloody war. Edward III. was so affected by his loss, for he was greatly attached to him, that he vowed to avenge his death ; and accordingly ho crossed the sea to Morbihan, near Vannes, with an anny of 12,000 men, in October of that year. Edward marched to Ronnes and Nantes, destroying the countiy as ho went, and laying siege to Vannes, Ronnes, and Nantes all at once. By dividing his forces ho failed in all his attempts, for Charles of Blois had obtained an army from the King of France of 40,000 men under the Dnko of Normandy, his eldest son. Edward, on the approach of this formidable force, entrenched himself before Vannes, and tho Duke of Normandy sat down at a short distance from him, and entrenched himself likewise in his camp. Here the two forces lay for somo weeks, neither venturing to strike the first blow ; and the Pope now stepped in by his legates, and persuaded them to sjn-n a truce for three years and eight months. Edward having secured honourable terms for himself and allies, returned home. But the truce was by no means obseiTed by either side. The different parties were become so exasperated against each other that they went on fighting m though there wore no truce at all. Philip of Franco was bound by one of its conditions to liberate John de Montfort ; but he still kept him in prison, notwithstandi'ig tho remon- strances of the Pope, and persevered in his attacks on Brittany, which tho countess defended with her accus- tomed spirit. Several knights of distir ctioa wero in treaty to pass over to the side of De Montfirt, and Philip making tho discovery, lured them to a grand toarnament, and had thoii- heads struck off in the centre of tho Ualles, or market-place, at Pons. Amongst these wore tho bravo knight Olivier do Clisson, already mentioned. John do Montaubon, and many others there and in Normandy, were as ruthlessly dealt with. This perfidicuc and san- guinary conduct produced a fooling of horror everywhere, and such of tho Breton knights as had fought for Charles of Blois went over to the Countess do Montfort. Fore- most amongst the malcontents thus created wis Jane de Belvillo, tho widow of tho murdered Olivier qo Clisson, who became a determined enemy, and who, carrying hei son to tho Countess of Montfort to bo brought up with hers, became indefatigable in her pursuit of vengeance on the French. It was a remarkable circumstance that these wars produced throe women, all named Jane, tho wives of Charles of Blois, of De Montfort, and of De Clisson, who displayed tho most extraordinary spirit, each rival- ling tho other in their heroic actions. This contempt of the truce roused tho English nation to support the king in the continuance of tho wai-. The Parliament granted him liberal supplies, and he sent over his near kinsman, the Earl of Derby, son of the Earl of Lancaster, with an anny, to protect Guienne, and give assistance to the Countess do Montfort. Tho Earl of Derby was a nobleman of great ability and integrity of 378 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLANL. rA.D. 1345. character, as distinguished for his humanity as his bravery. He very soon placed Guienne in a posture of strong defence, and then made a bold advance into the enemy's country. He attacked and defeated the Count de I'lsle at Bergerac, reduced a great part of Perigord, and took the strong castle of Auberoche in G^scony. This castle was again attempted by De I'lsle, being left only with a weak garrison ; but a spy whom Derby had in the French the French camp as the soldiers were cooking their sup- pers. Darting amongst them with loud shouts of "A Derby! a Derby!" the sudden apparition of the enemy threw the whole French host into such confusion that a total rout took place, and the Count de I'lsle, with nine earls and viscounts, and nearly all the barons, knights, and squires of his army, were taken. This terminated the campaign of Lord Derby for 1345 ; Ed ward the Black Priuco. camp apprised the earl of its situation. Ho advanced into the neighbourhood with 1,000 cavalry, and found the castle invested by 10,000 or 12,000 men. Tho earl had sent to tho Earl of Pembroke at Bor^orac to meet him with a lar:?© force, but ho had not come up. To ordinary men tho idea of attacking the French army of '.0,000 or more with his 1,000 would have appeared insane ; but the earl had with him the able commanders Sir Walter Manny, Lord Ferrars, Sir Richard Hastings, and others, ttud, taking advantage of a wood, they came suddenly on and the uoxt year, when he became Earl of Lancaster through tho death of his father, ho pursued his victories, and took the strong towns and fortresses of Monsegur, Monsepat, Villofranche, Miremont, Tonnins, the castle of Damassen, Aiguilou, and Eeole. His successes were favoured by the state of France at that time, where the exhausted finances led Philip to debase the coin and lay a heavy impost on salt, both of which circumstances excited great disaffection and disorder in the kingdom. At length the Duke of Normandy, attended by the Duku A.L'. 1346.1 EDWARD in. 379 Coabat between the French and English Caynlry at tho Passage of tlie Sc^mme. (See page 3S1J 380 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRA.TED mSTOKY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1346. of Burgundy and other powerful nobles, led a large army to the frontiers of Guienne, and compelled Lancaster to stand on the defensive, his forces being greatly inferior in number. While those events were taking place, Edward III. was earnestly at work at home, endeavouring to organise an offioient scheme for achieving something more than the defence of Guienne, or the aid of Brittany ; namely, his great dream of the total conquest of France. His first attempt was to seouro the co-operation of his old friend, Jacob van Artavelde, the brewer of Ghent. He had the daring to projjose that his son, the Black Prince, should be offered to the people of Fl.anders in lieu of their old earl, who had gone over to the French interest. But this scheme cost the stout old Artavelde his life. No sooner was the overture made than the burgesses took alarm at it, and lost their faith in Van Artavelde as a patriot. Bruges and Tpres were brought over by the promised advantages of trade with England, but his own town of Ghent broke out into open insurrection. When he rode into the city attended by a body of Welsh, whom Edward had sent, he was received with the most hostile looks and expressions. He hastened to his house, and endeavoui-ed by a speech from an upper window to appease the incensed people ; biit it was ill vain. They broke into his house and miu'- dered him on the spot. The man who had reigned like a king, from the opinion of his patriotism, now fell by tho hand of a saddler, and amid the execrations of the mob, as a traitor. Hope of assistance was gone for Edwai'd in that.quartei'. He was equally unfortunate in Hainault. His brother- in-law, the young Count of Hainault, was killed also in a revolt of tho Frieslauders ; and his uncle, the well- known John of Hainault, so long allied with England, wont over to the French on the pica that Edward had not duly estimated or rewarded his services. About the samo timo, too, John do Montfort, so long a captive in Paris, was liberated, but died of a fever before Quimperle. All hope appeared closed on the side of the Netherlands and of Brittany ; but a new light sprung up in an unexpected quarter, giving an entirely new turn to his enterprise. Sir- Godfrey de Harcourt, Lord of Saint Sauveur le Vicompte, and brother of John, Earl of Harcourt, long in the service of England, had stood high in the favour of Philip of France ; but having ofioaded him by resisting one of his arbitrary acts, he had a narrow escape of sharing the fate of Olivier de Clisson. He fled to England, and, like his predecessor, Eobert of Artois, he exerted all his talent to persuade the king to invade France on the sido of Normandy, Sir Godfrey's own country, and where, of coui'se, lay his forfeited estates. He represented to Edward that it was one of the most fertile and beautiful provinces of France— abounded with wealth, for it had not been the scene of war for two centuries; that tho numerous and opulent towns had scarcely any fortifica- tions, and wei-e now deserted by tho uobUity and their vassals, who were with the Duke of Normandy in Qas- cony. He reminded Edward that it was an ancient pos- session of England, lay near the English coast, might be secured almost without a blow, and would strike tho French king dumb with consternation, for it would bring his capital within easy reach of attack. It is surprising that those facts had not presented them- selves to Edward before ; but, once offered to his mind, he embraced them with avidity. He assembled a fine army of 30,000 men, consisting of 4,000 men-at-arms, 10,000 archers, 10,000 Welsh infantry, and 6,000 Irish. Cii'cumstances, rather than his own wishes, had brought him to depend no longer on mercenary and treacherous allies, but upon his own subjects; and fi'om this moment ho began to perform those prodigies of arms which raised the name of Englishmen above aU others for steady and transcendent valour. He set sail from Southampton in a fleet of near 1,000 sail of all dimensions, carrying with him all the principal nobility of the realm, and his son, the Black Prince, now fifteen years of age. He lauded his army at La Hogue, on the coast of Normandy, and there divided it into three bodies, one of which he placed under the command of the Earl of AVarwick, another under Sir Godfi-ey de Harcourt, whom he created marshal, and the third under tha Earl of Arundel, whom he made constable; he himself was generalissimo, and before set- ting out on his march he knighted the Prince of Wales and a number of the young nobility. He next caused the French ships in La Hogue, Barfleur, and Cherbourg to be destroyed. This work was committed to the English fleet, and the plunder of these seajjorts was given up to those who manned it. Advancing into the country, Edward found it almost wholly defenceless, as Har- coiu-t had represented. Montebourg, Carentan, St. Lo, Valognes, and other places in the Cotentin were taken and pillaged. One of the king's objects was to create an alarm and thus draw off the French forces from Guienne ; and in this he succeeded. The King of France, startled by this un- expected invasion, hastened to assemble troops from all quarters. He was soon at the head of a numerous army, which, from the sounding titles of many of the allies and generals, appeared extremely formidable. Amongst them were the Kings of Bohemia and Majorca, the Em- peror elect of Germany, the Duke of Lorraine, John of Hainault, and the Earl of Flanders. He dispatched the Count of Eu, Constable of France, and the Count of TankervUle to defend the populous and commercial city of Caen ; but they were speedily overthrown by Edward, who took the two counts prisoners, and, entering the city, massacred the inhabitants without distinction of age, sex, or rank. The scenes perpetrated in Caen are frightful to record, and present a revolting picture of the savage spirit of the age in war. It never seems to have entered tho heads of these feudal conquerors that the wealth of the inhabitants, in case of success, would become national wealth, or that to massacre and ill-treat those inhabitants was the certain way to render them for ever hostile. Plunder and destruction were the only ideas of Edward's soldiers. The wretched people of Caen, driven to des- peration, barricaded their doors against the rufiianly invaders. They, in tui'n, set fire to the houses, till Ed- ward, at the earnest entreaty of Sir Godfi-ey Harcourt, put a stop to the burning, but gave up the town to three days' pillage, reserving for his own share the jewels, plate, silks, fino cloths, and linen. These he shipped for England, with 300 of the richest citizens, for whom ho meant to demand heavy ransoms. Two cardinal legates, who had como with the benevolent hope of negotiating a peace, beheld instead this fearful butchery. Tho Chm-ch at this A.D. 1346.] PASSAGE OF THE SOMME. S81 period was the only po\7er which eadeavoured to bring to mou's remembranco the bonign inllueuco of Christianity, and, in exerting itself to check the spirit of military carnage and devastation, certainly discharged its sublime duty well. As for these martial mouarohs, they seemed to forget in the fury of war all compassion; and both Edward and his youthful sou displayed a hard and san- guinary disposition in their campaigns, in melancholy contrast with the high professions of chivalrous courtesy. Edward, on this occasion, as afterwards at Calais, was wrought to a pitch of vindictiveness greatly derogatory to the character of a hero ; in that temper he forgot all magnanimity. Edward, having inflicted this terrible chastisement on Caen, then advanced towards Eouen, intending to treat it the same ; but, on arriving opposite to that city, ho found the bridge of boats was taken away, and Philip of Valois occupying the right bank of the Seine, with an array far superior to his own. Edward then continued his march up the left bank of the river towards Paris, destroying all the towns and the country as he went along. The French king marched along the right bank, breaking down all the bridges, and taking every means to prevent his crossing. After sacking Vernon and Mantes, the Eng- lish king arrived at Poissy, within nine miles of Paris. Hero finding the bridge only partially destroyed, ho re- sorted to this stratagem in order to cross the Seine : — He still ascended the river, as if intending to march on Paris ; while his advanced lines scoured tho country up to its veiy gates, bui-ning St. Germains, St. Cloud, Bourg-la-Eeine, Nanterre, and Nouilly. Having thus drawn the French king to Paris, he suddenly made a re- verse march, reached Poissy, hastily repaired tho bridge, and passed his troops over. Once across the Seine, he proceeded by hasty marches towards the river Somme. His vanguard, commanded by Harcourt, met with re- enforoements proceeding fi'om Amiens to tho king's camp, and defeated them with groat slaughter. Poaching Beau- vais, he burnt its suburbs, and plundered Pois. As he drew near tho Somme, he found himself in the same difficulties as at the Seine. All the bridges wero de- stroyed ; and he endeavoured, but unsuccessfully, to pass at Pont St. Eemi, Long, and Pequiny. He was now fast being enclosed by the enemy. Tho Somme was a deep and, so far as they could find, impassable river ; on its right bank showed a strong force under Godomar de Faye, a powerful baron of Normandy, supported by the gentlemen of Artois and Picardy. Approaching the sea, near Oisemont, ho was thus cooped up between it and the Somme, with Philip and an army of 100,000 men pressing on his rear. In this urgent extremity, the marshals of the army ware sent out to see whether they could not possibly discover a ford, but in vain. Edward now ap- peared in a very serious dilemma; but, assembling all tho prisoners belonging to that part of the counti'y, he oifered to any one who would point out a ford hia own liberty and that of thirty of his companions. On this a peasant, named Gobin Agaco, said, "Know, sir, that during tho ebb-tide, tho Somme is so low at a place which I can show you, that it may be passed either by horse or foot with ease. Tho bottom is plain to see, for it is of chalk, quite white, anil so that is, while water." cciiled Dld^ichctaque, On hearing this agreeable news, Edward ordered tho trumpets to sound at midnight, and set out from Oise- mont for tho ford. There he arrived some hours before tho ebb, and was compelled to wait, seeing Grodemar de Faye ready with 12,000 men on tho other side to oppose his passage, and eveiy minute expecting the arrival of Philip. As soon as tho ford was passable he ordered tho marshals to dash into tho river, and to drive back the enemy in the name of God and St. George! So groat was his impatience that ho himself led tho way, crying, " Let those who love mo follow mo." The French force.-: met them half way, and valiantly disputed tho passage ; but they were driven back. Tho English, however, found the main body strongly posted on the right bank at a narrow pass through which they were compelled to force thoir way by hard fighting. The Genoese crossbowmen hero galled them severely with thcii- arrows ; but tho English archers replied so vigoroiisly that they drove tho enemy from the ground and landed in safety. It was still but just in time, for Philip came galloping up before tho rear-guard had reached tho other side, and did some damage amongst them. The tide, however, was now too high to permit him to follow ; he therefore took liis way up the river to AbbeviUc, and crossed at the bridge there. Meantime Edward, having made this admii-ablo pas- sage, resolved to march no further. He had hoped to receive re- enforcements promised him by tho repentant Flemings, but they did not appear, and he considered it hazardous to attempt to cross the open plains of Picardy in the presence of so preponderating a force, especially of French cavalry. He resolved to make a stand. He selected a strong position in the forest of Cressy, or Crefy, and near a vUlago of that name. "Here," said he, "I am on tho rightful heritage of my ladj'-mother, upon the lands of Ponthieu, given to her as her marriage dower. I now challenge them as my own, and may God defend the right !" Ho took his station on a gentle ascent, having in his rear a wood, where ho placed all his baggage, and defended it with an entrenchment. He also throw up entrenchments on his flanks to secure them, and divided his army into three divisions. The first ho put under the command of Edward, the Prince of "Wales, now in his sixteenth year, to fight his first battle. Under him wore tho Earls of Warwick and Oxford, Sir Godfrey Harcourt, the Lord Holland, and Sir John Chandos ; but the king confided tho especial care of the prince to Sir John and to the Earl of Warwick, who wcro to assist him by their counsel and defend him in ditJiculty. Tho second lino was commanded by tho Lords Willoughby, De Poos, Bassett, and others. The king himself took tho charge of tho third, to hold it in readiness to support either of the other two, or secure their reti-eat, as ciicum- stances might decide. Tho amount of the English army has been variously stated at from 10,000 to 30,000 ; but tho most authentic accoimts stato it to bo about ono- fom'th of tho French, who wcro estimated at 1120,000. The King of England, having made his arrangements, ordered the troops to take up their ground on the spot where thoj' were to fight, and to await tho next morning with confidence of victory. The soldiers set about vigorously polishing their arms, and repairing and bur- nishing their armour-. They were well fed, and refrsshed by abundaai Ti'iue aad provisious frliich hs.d bsen .?oiE5(? 382 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1346. in the port of Crotoy. The king gave a supper to his barons in his tent, ■where he made good cheer. When it was concluded he entered into the tent set apart as an oratory, and, falling on his knees, prayed God to bring him " out of the morrow with honour." The night was warm ; and the soldiers, having well supped, slept on the grass in their arms. With the early dawn the king and prince were up and amongst theii- forces. Edward, mounted on a white palfrey, and attended on each hand by a marshal, rode through the ranks, spoke to the different officers, and exhorted the men to re- member that they had to-day to fight against superior numbers, and must therefore do their best for the honour of their country. He reminded them of the decided ad- vantage which they had hitherto shown over the enemy ; and he had such an air of confidence and cheerfulness that every one augured nothing but victory. Thus they sat, each in his place, with his helm and bow before him, and so awaited the foe. When they had thus continued till three in the afternoon, and no enemy was yet come up, the king ordered that every man should eat and take a little wine, which they did in great satisfaction. Meantime the King of France, having passed the night at Abbeville, set out, re-enforced by 1,000 lancers under Amadius, Earl of Savoy. He deemed that ho had nothing to do but to overtake the English army in order to an- nihilate it. For weeks it appeared to have been flying before him, and by hastily crossing the Seine and the Somme it had borne every appearance of wishing, at all costs, to avoid a conflict. He therefore pushed on hastUy and in great confusion. By the time that his advanced guard came in sight of the English lines hjs forces were tii-ed and his rear-guard far behind. A veteran Bohemian officer, being sent forward to reconnoitre the English army, rode back to Philip, and strongly recommended him to put off the battle till the next day. He assui-ed him that the English were fresh and sti-ongly posted, and would undoubtedly make a desperate defence. The French, depressed and exhausted by the haste of their march from Abbeville, must fight at vast disadvantage. The king commanded a halt ; but the ill-disciplined troops still pressed on, the van brandishing their swords, and crying, in their over-confidence, "Attack, take, slay!" and those behind, hurrying forward, declaring they would not stop till they were as forward as the foremost. So they rushed on pell-mell. Froissart says no one, except he had been present, could form any idea of the confusion of the scene. Philip had divided his army into three divisions ; the first commanded by the King of Bohemia, supported by his son, Charles of Luxembourg, Emperor- elect of Germany, and Charles, Count of Alen(;on, the brother of King Philip, a brave but haughty arid rash youth. In this division were 15,000 Genoese crossbow- men, headed by Anthony Doria and Carolo Grimaldi. These bowmen were looked upon as the great strength of the army — an overmatch for the English archers, whom they were quickly to drive from the field. They were backed by 20,000 infantrj'. The second division was led by Philip himself, consisting of 0,000 men-at-arms and •10,000 foot. The broad banner of France was displayed before the king, and at his side rode the titular King of Majorca. The rear division followed, conducted by the Earl of Savoy, with 5,000 lances and 20,000 foot. The last was most formidable in numbers ; but all superiority was lost in the disorder of the march. The kings and dukes and great lords were hurried along without power to exert any command, and PhiUp himself, in striving to enforce a halt, was borne onward as by a torrent. Finding himself face to face with the enemy, he cried, " Bring up the Genoese ; begin the battle, in the name of God and St. Denis!" But these Italians, who were brave and 'famous men, very reasonably complained of thus being hurried into battle, worn-out as they were with carrj'ing their heavy crossbows in the hasty march of six leagues, and said they had more need of rest than to fight that day. On hearing this the Count Alen9on cried out, " See ! that is the help we get by employing these fellows, who thus fail us at the pinch." The sensitive Italians heard these words with deep anger, and moved on to battle. At this moment the heavens seemed to announce that a great and terrible conflict was about to take place. A thunder- storm, making it almost as dark as night, burst over the opposing hosts, and before it went a great flight of crows and ravens, sweeping over the armies. When the sun broke out again it flashed in the faces of the Genoese, and the strings of theii' crossbows had become relaxed with the wet. On the other hand, the sun was on the backs of the English, and they had kept their longbows dry in their cases. They were di-awn up by the king in ranks crossed in the manner of a lierse, or harrow, so that the discharges of the different ranks might support each other, like the discharges of combined squares of mus- ketry in these times. No sooner, therefore, did the Genoese crossbowmen, after giving three leaps and thrro loud shouts to intimidate the English, let fly a shower of arrows, than the English archers stepped each of them one pace forward, and shot their arrows so thick that, as the chronicler describes it, it seemed to snow. The Genoese, confounded by the perpetual hail of the English arrows, which pierced their armour, fell back on the men- at-arms, and the confusion then became fearful. The Genoese cut their bowstrings or threw away their bows, and endeavoured to make their escape amongst the horses of the cavalry. The King of France, seeing this, cried out, " Slay me these cowards, for they stop our way, without doing any good ! " The men-at-arms advanced at full gallop right over the wretched Genoese, cutting them down right and left, and numbers were trodden under foot ; while the cavalry itself was thrown into dis- order by thus riding over their own bowmen to come at the enemy. All this time the English archers kept pom'ing in their deadly shafts, dropping the knights and soldiers of Alen(;on's fine cavalry rapidly from their saddles ; while the Cornish men and Welsh, armed with large knives, stole amongst the ranks and dispatched those knights as they lay. Edward had given strict orders to take no prisoners, because the enemy was so much more numerous, that it would encumber his fighting men, and keep them from the battle in looking after their captives. In spite of the confusion, the Count of Alen(;on and the Earl of Flanders broke at length through it, and, charging past the line of English archers, took the cavalry of the A.D. 1346.] THE BATTLE OF CEECY. 383 Princo of Wales in flank. Both sides now fought despe- rately ; but the English men-at-arms handled tho French cavalry so roughly, that the greater part of them were slain. Notwithstanding, throe other squadrons of French and Germans, rushing forvrard impetuously, broke through the archers, and pushed their way into the very place where the young prince was perfonning prodigies of valour. The second division, under the Earls of Arundel and Northampton, advanced to support tho prince, and the contest became furious. Alenpon displayed the most fiery courage, and, amid a crowd of French, Germans, Savoyards, and Bohemians, pressed upon the prince with a vigour which threatened to carry all before it. The French king, eager to support Alen^on, charged nobly on the archers, but could not penetrate their line, or the event might have been doubtful. Tho Earl of Warwick, alarmed by the dangerous position of tho prince, dis- patched Sir Thomas Norwich to Edward, entreating him to send aid to his son. Edward, who was watching the progi-ess of the battle from a windmiU on the hiU-top, demanded of the mes- senger whether tho princo wero dead, wounded, or felled to the ground. " Not so, thank God," answered the messenger; "but he needs assistance." "Nay, then," said the king, " he has no aid from me. Tell him fi-om me that I know he will bear him like a man, and show himself worthy of tho knighthood I have so lately con- ferred on him. In this battle he must win his own spurs." This being reported to the prince, gave new courage and strength to both him and his attendants. The force thrown in by Arundel and Northampton bore down the enemy, and slew the gallant Count Alenron and dispersed his battalions ; the Welsh, with their long knives, de- stroying aU left alive on the ground. The King of France, still struggling to come up to the rescue of his brother, only an-ived to find him killed and his forces scattered. The flying cavahy communicated their panic to the king's own followers; but the king himself scorned to fly, and fought most bravely. His horse was killed under him ; ho mounted another, and still fought on till only about sixty of his bravest attend- ants remained around him. Eepeatedly wounded, he would probably have lost his life ; but John of Hainault, having in vain urged him to quit the field, forcibly seized the bridle of his horse and led him away. The whole French army was in flight, the English pursuing and putting to the sword without mercy all whom they could reach. The King of France rode away tiU he came to the castle of Broyo, where, summoning tho warder to open the gates, that officer demanded who was there, for it was a dark night. " It is tho fortune of France," said the king, probably in bitter recollection of the flatteries which had styled him " the Fortunate." On entering, the king had only five of his barons with him. They refreshed them- selves with wine, and then continued their flight, by the assistance of -ruides, to Amiens. Such was tho memorable battle of Cre^y, one of the greatest and most surprising victories which over was gained by any king. It was fought on Saturday, the 26th of August, 1346. On that fatal field lay slain two kings, eleven gi-cat princes, eighty bannerets, 1,200 kaights, and 30,OUD men. It began after three o'clock in the afternoon, and continued till the darkness ecded the conflict. Amongst the great men killed, besides the Count Alenfon, the king's brother, wore the Dukos of Loiiaine and Bourbon, tho Counts of Blois, Vaudomont, Aumale, and Philip's old ally tlio Earl of Flanders. Of tho two slain Kings of Majorca and Bohemia, the death of John of Bohemia was very remarkable. Ho was old, and nearly blind. When all seemed lost, inquiring after his son, and hearing that he was woimded and compelled to fly, and that tho Black Princo showed himself irresistible, he said, " Sirs, ye are my knights and good liegemen ; will ye conduct me so far into the battle that I may strike one good stroke with my sword ? " His faithful knights regarding these as tho words of sad despair, four of them agreed to sacrifice their lives with him, and tying his bridle rein on each side to their own, they thus charged into the thickest of the fight, and were found tho next day lying dead together, the reins of their horses still unsevered. The rejoicing on the part of the English may be imagined. Tho soldiers lit up great fires and torches to disperse the darkness, and by that light King Edward descended from his eminence, and, taking his valiant son in his arms before the whole army, he kissed him, and, according to Proissart, said, "Sweet son, God gave you good perseverance. Tou are my ti-ue son, for valiantly have you acquitted yourself to-day, and shown yourself worthy of a crown." The princo bowed lowly, and de- clared that the victory was owi:ig to the king. The next day it proved foggy, and tho king sending out a detachment of 500 lancers and 2,000 archers to scour the fields and discover whether any bodies of French were yet keeping their ground, they met with two numerous detachments hastening to the assistance of tho King of France, one of them headed by the Bishop of Eouen and Grand Prior of France. They were coming from Beauvais and Eouen, and made a vigorous resistance ; but were all cut to pieces, in accordance with the barbarous policy of Edward on that occasion. Some historians have asserted that the English raised a number of French standards, which they took, on an eminence ; which thus attracting stragglers of the French arm}-, they were butchered as they arrived. These are blots on the glory of that great victoiy which it is painful to record. The king sent out the Lords Oobham and Sufiblk, with attendant heralds, to recognise the arms, and secretaries to write down the names of the fallen, and they returned an account of the numbers wo have given ; but of the English only throe knights, one esquire, and a few of inferior rank. Tho king on Sunday having attended mass, and re- turned solemn thanks to Heaven for this great victory, on tho Monday morning ordered the bodies of the kings and great nobles and knights to bo borne to the monas- tery of Montenay for bui-ial, and proclaimed three days' truce that the people of the coimtry might come in and buiy their dead. Having discharged this duty, he marched north, taking the way by tho coast, through Montreuil-sur-mer, towards Calais, which he had re- solved to tako possession of, as a secure and necessary enhance into the kingdom of France for the prosecution of his great design on it 384 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. A.D. 1346. CHAPTER LXV. Edward III. continued— Siege of Calais— Battle of Neville's Cross— Capture of the Scottish King — Attempt to re-take Calais by the French — Institution of the Garter — Disturbances in France excited by the King of Navarre— Battle of Poictiers — The King of France taken Prisoner and brought to England— Fresh Invasion of France — The Peace of Bretigni — Return of King John to France — Dis- orders of that Kingdom — The Free Companions — Expedition of the Black Prince into Castile — Fresh Campaign in France — Decline of the English Power there — Death of the Black Prince — Death of Edward III.— Character of his Reign and State of the Kingdom. Within six days of the victory of Crecy, Edward had sat down beforo the city of Calais. He had now fully adopted Sir Godfrey de Harcourt's plan of conquering France through Normandy ; and the only remarkable thing is, that, having once entertained the idea of that conquest, he should have overlooked for a moment its unparalleled advantages. Guienne was distant, and only to be reached by a voyage which, at that time, must often be formidable, across the stormy Bay of Biscay. Even in sending suc- cours to the much nearer parts of Brittany, we have just seen that they were detained by contrary winds forty days. Once there he was surrounded in a great measure by hostile provinces ; while, on the other hand, Calais lay within twenty-four miles of his own coast, which gave him most easy access to Normandy, Picardy, and Artois. Seeking the alliance of the Flemings, this pro- vince laj' within a short distance of their own, and no doubt ho would have found that people much more dis- po.sed for an invasion of a rich and proximate country, than the remoter one of Guienne. Eouen, the capital of the province, could be approached direct by the Seine, and placed the king on the very highway to Paris, and only eighty miles distant from it. ♦ These facts were now fully perceived by Edward, and he invested Calais with his victorious army, determined to make himself master of it. Ho calculated on the effect which his destructive ovorthi-ow of tho French must produce on the inhabitants, and on the certainty that Philip was for a long time rendered impotent of much annoyance. In fact, to secure his capital and northern provinces, Philip was compelled to recall his son, the Duke of Normandy, with his arm}-. No sooner did he retreat than the Earl of Lancaster, formerly Earl of Derby, who had been much pressed by the French, and only enabled to hold his ground by assistance which Sir Walter Manny brought up from Bnttany, leaving Bordeaux, crossed the Garonne and the Dordogne, took Mirabeau, Lusignan, Tallebourg, St. Jean d'Angeli, and laid waste the country as far as Poictiers, which he also took by storm and plundered. He thenco extended his incursions to the Loire, and ranged through tho southern provinces of the kingdom, can-ying terror and devastation everywhere. His soldiers were so laden with ."spoil that they came to despise the richest merchandise, and cared only for gold, silver, and jewels, which they could readily transport, and for the feathers which were then worn by the soldiers in their helmets. With this treasure they returned loaded to Bordeaux. All this timo tho war was raging in Brittany, where the Countess de Montfort was creating a powerful diver- sion in favour of her ally, tho King of England, and against her enemy, the King of France. Uniting her forces with those of the English under Sir Thomas Dag- worth, they raised the siege of Eoch d'Arion, which her rival, Charles of Blois, was investing with 15,000 men, and took Charles of Blois prisoner. The countess sent him to London for safe keeping, where ho was confined for nine years in the Tower, as her husband had been in the Louvre. On the captivity of Charles, his countess, Jane the Lame, took on herself the conduct of affairs, and for some time maintained valiantly the cause of her house ; though neither she nor her husband, on his restoration to liberty, could ever overcome the brave-hearted Countess of Montfort, who transmitted her province to her descendants. In this, truly called the age of great women, another of still higher rank, the Queen Philippa of England, was at the same time .showing herself equally courageous, and capable of transacting public affairs. Philip of France , alarmed at the vast success and the military genius of Edward III., exerted his influence with David, King of tho Scots, to make a diversion on his behalf by invading England during Edward's absence. David Bruce had passed many years with his young queen in France, and was, therefore, under great obligations to the king. He was recalled by the Scots to his throne in 1342, and had kept up a friendly correspondence with his old host. Though David was a brave young prince, he did not possess the sagacit}', or his years did not give him tho experience, of his father. He was equally impelled by his resentment to his brother-in-law, the King of Eng- land, who had driven him from his throne, and by the instigations of the French king, to make occasional raids into England. In the four years since he had been re- instated, he had made no less than three successful expe- ditions of this kind, and now that his old benefactor was so sorely worsted, he prepared for a still more decisive invasion. He placed himself at the head of 3,000 cavalry and 30,000 other troops, mounted on galloways. March- ing from Perth, he reached the borders, numbering, it is said, then J0,000 men. He took the castle of Liddel, burnt Lanercost, sacked the priory of Hexham, advanced into the diocese of Durham, and encamped at Beauropaire, or Bearpark, near the city of Durham. David calculated on an easy triumph over the English, nearly the wholo of the nobility being absent at tho siege of Calais. But Philippa, Edward's queen, a.ssembled a body of 1-,000 men, and, advancing rapidly northward, came up with the Scots as thej' were laying waste the country round Durham, and pitched her camp in Auckland Park. S!io gave the command of her army to Lord Percy, but, ac- cording to Froissart, she herself mounted her horse and rode through the ranks, exhorting the men to remember that their king was absent, that the honour and safety of England were in their hands, and appealing to them to defend the realm and punish the Scots for their barbarous ravages. She could not, according to this author, be persuaded to quit the field for a place of safety till the armies were on the point of engaging. It has been doubted how far this proceeding of tho queen is strictly true, not being mentioned by the old English chroniclers ; but, besides the testimony of Froissart, it is unquostionablo that Philippa's bold and able management did much to ensure the victory which followed. The Scots, who appear to have been thrown off their guard by over-confidence, and who were thinking rbore i.-D. i:hg.] ENGAGEMENT AT NEVILLE'S CROSS. 385 Queen riiilijipa iiiterceiUng for the Burgesses of Calais. (See page 3S7.) of plunder than of the enemy, were taken by surprise. Douglas, the famous knight of Liddesdale, was intercepted at Sunderland Bridge on his return from a raid as far as Ferry-on-the-Hill, and narrowly escaped being taken, 500 of his followers being cut to pieces. David, also inken by surprise, still mustered his troops, and took his 3;x stand at Neville's Cross, near the city of Durham. The English archers, securing themselves under the hedges, shot down the horses of the Scots, threw them, orewdcd as they were together, into confusion, and laid their riders prostrate in the dust. David fought undauntedly; but Edward Baliol, who commanded the reserve, made a skil- CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. fA.D. laiS, ful attack of oavalry on Hs flank, and Ms troops giving way on all sides, he was forcibly taken prisoner by one John Copeland, a Northumberland squire — a man of huge sta- ture and sti-ength — but not before he had received two arrow wounds, and, refusing to listen to calls to sur- render, had knocked out two of the front teeth of his captor by a blow of his gauntlet. Copeland conveyed his royal prize to his castle of Ogle, and was careful not to give him up except to properly aixthorised royal com- missioners, when he received the title of banneret and an estate of £500 a year — equal to as many thousands now — and was made sheriff of Northumberland and governor of Berwick. The joy of the people of Durham was unbounded, for their nobles and dignitaries of the Church fought in the foremost ranks, having the deepest hereditary hatred to the Scots from their numerous spoiling."? by them. The Bi.shop of Durham led off the first division with Lord Percy ; the Archbishop of York led the second with Lord Neville ; and the Bishop of Lincoln the third with Lord Mowbray. The Prior of Durham, it was said, had been commanded the night before in a dream by St. Cuthbert, ' ' to raise the corpomx doth with which St. Cuthbert, during mass, did cover the chalice," as a banner on a spear point ; and accordingly ho and a body of monks, at a spot called the Red Hills, in sight of both armies, knelt round it in prayer, while another body of the brethren on the top of tl^e great campanile, or bell tower of the cathedral, sung hymns of praise, which, says Enyghton, wore dis- tinctly heard by both armies. A third body of the clergy were engaged in the very hottest of the battle. The third division of the Soots, under the Earl^f Moray, WM actually exit to pieces on the field, only eighty of them being left at the time of the king's surrender. With the king were taken the Earls of Sutherland, Monteith, Fife, Carrick, Moray, and Strathern ; Sii- William Douglas, .John and Alan Stuart, and a long list of nobles and knights. Monteith was beheaded as a ti-aitor, having accepted ofBce under Edward. Never did the Scots receive a more fatal overthrow; some historians say they had 1 o.OOO, others 20,000 slain, amongst whom were the earl marshal Keith and Sir Thomas Charteris. Of the English loaders only Lord Hastings fell. King David was conveyed to London and lodg'^d in the Tower. This memorable battle of Neville's Cross took place on the 17th of October, 13-16. Having secured her royal prisoner. Queen Philippa went over to Calais, where she was received with all the triumph and honour which her meritorious conduct de- served. She found Edward in the midst of the siege, which continued obstinate. John of Vienne, the governor, supported by a strong garrison, and well provisioned, maintained a spirited defence. The place lying in a flat, swampy situation, was trjdng to the health of the English army, and was immensely strong, with its ditches, ram- parts, and impassable morasses. The king, therefore, quite aware that it was not to be taken in a hurry, fixed his camp in the most eligible spot he could find, drew entrenchments round the city, built huts for his soldiers, which he thatched with straw or broom, and prepared by various means to rejider their winter campaign tolerable. His huts presented the appearance of a second town, called bv the French chroniclers the Yille du Bois, or town of wood, and the harbour was blockaded to prevent the entrance of relief of any kind. John of Vienne, perceiving the king's intention to starve them out, collected all the inhabitants of both sexes who were not necessary to the defence, and sent 1,700 of them out of the city. Edward not only allowed the poor creatm-es to pass, but gave them a good refreshment, and each a small piece of money. But as the siege continued, and John of Vienne again put out 500 more of what he considered useless mouths, Edward lost his patience, and is said to have refused them a passage ; and the governor of Calais refusing them re-entrance to the city, they are reported to have perished of starvation between the town walls and the English lines. Such are, or were, a few of the tender mercies of war ! As the siege grew desperate, violent efforts were made to relieve the city. The King of France sent ships to force a passage, but in vain. The English fleet had gradually grown to upwards of 700 sail, carrying more than 14,000 men, and of these eighty of the largest ships, under the Earl of Warwick, constantly swept the Channel. The King of France was meantime making the most strenuous exer- tions to raise a force sufficient to expel -the invader. He succeeded in winning over the young Earl of Flanders as- he had done his father. This young nobleman appears to have been capable of playing a very mean part. The free towns proposed to him to marry Isabella of England, a princess of great beauty, and the young man, pretend- ing to fall in with their wishes, came to the Enghsh camp, and paid his addresses to the princess as if with the most serious intentions ; but having carried on his dissimulation to a disgraceful length, he seized the oppor- tunity afforded by a hawking excursion to slip away, and made off to the French camp. PhiUp levied everywhere men and money, and compelled the clergy as well as the laity to yield their treasure, and even their church plate ; a massive cross of gold belong- ing to the abbej' of St. Denis being carried off. He at length appeared before Calais with an army which the writers of the age assert to have amounted to 200,000 men. The gove:-nor of Calais had, indeed, sent letters to him, announcing that the inhabitants had eaten their horses, dogs, and rats, and, unless relieved, must soon eat each other. These letters were intercepted. The King of England, however, sent them on, tauntingly asking Philip why he did not come and relieve his people. But Philip found Edward so entrenched amongst marshes and forti- fications that he could not forco a jiassage anywhere. Two roads only were left to the town — one along the sea shore, and the other by a causeway through the marshes ; but the coastway was completely raked by the English, ships and boats, crowded with archers, dravra up on the strand, and the causeway was defended by towers and drawbridges, occupied by a great force of the most daring men in the army, under the command of the Earl of Lan- caster and Sir Walter Manny, who had come hither from their victorious demonstration in Gascony, Guienne, and Poictou. The King of France looked on this densely armed position with despair, and after vainly challenging King Edward to come out and fight in the open field, he with- drew. Tlio starving people of Calais, who, on seemsj iho approach of the vast royal host, had hung out theiL' A.D. 1347.] SUELEXDER OF CALAIS. 3?7 banners on the walls, lighted great bonfires, and sounded all their instruments of martial music for joy, now changed their joyous acclamations into shrieks and groans of de- spair. They lowered all their banners but the great banner of France, which floated on the loftiest tower !of the city, in their dejection, and the next day they [pulled tliat down in desperation, and displayed the ban- ner of England in its place in token of surrender. To Sir Walter Manny, who was sent to speak with John of Vienne over the wall, that bravo commander declared that they were literally perishing with hunger, and asked the lives and liberties of the citizens as the sole condition of surrender. Sir Walter told the governor that he knew well his royal master's mind, and that he could not promise them the acceptance of that proposal, the king being in- censed at their obstinate resistance, and determined to punish them for it. It was in vain that the governor represented that it was this very conduct that a gallant prince like Edward ought to honour — that it was what he ■would have expected from an English knight. Sii- Walter Manny acknowledged the justice of the sentiment, and returned to soften the king's resolution ; but he could only obtain this mitigation, that six of the principal citizens should be sacrificed to his resentment instead of the whole people ; and they were required to come to the camp in theu' shii'ts, bare-headed and bare-footed, carrying the keys of the city and castle in their hands, and with halters about their necks. When this ultimatum was made known to the people of Calais, they were struck with horror. John of Vienne, despairing of fulfilling the demand of the stern English king, caused the church bells to be rung, and collecting the people in the market-place, laid the matter before them. There was much weeping and lamenting, but all shrunk from the dre.adful sacrifice. At length, Eustace de St. Pierre, one of the most eminent men of the place, arose and said, " Gentlemen, great and small, he who shall save the people of this fair town at the price of his own blood, shall doubtless deserve well of God and man. I will be one who will offer my head to the King of Eng- land as a ransom for the town of Calais." At this noble resolve the greater part of the assembl}' was moved to tears, and very soon other great burgesses, Jehan d'Au-e, Jacque Wisant, and Peter Wisaut, his brother, and two others, offered themselves. They presentlj"- took off their onlinavy (h'ess, reduced themselves to the condition dictated by the conqueror, and thus they were conducted by the bravo John of Vienne, \evy sorrowfully, and mounted on a small palfrey, for he was too weak to walk from wounds and fasting. Thus they came, followed by the sad people, men, women, and children, to the gates. The six voluntary victims were admitted into the English camp and thus conducted before Edward, when they knelt before him, and presenting him the keys, implored his mercy. But Edward, looking on them with great displeasui-e, ordered them to instant execution. Then the noble ";3arons and knights entreated that he would not refuse to listen to their petitions for their- pardon , in which the Prince of Wales joined. Nothing, however, seemed to move the grim monarch. The br.ave Sir Walter Manny ventured to remind him of the greatness of his name, and of the stain this action would bo upon it. At this the king made a stern grimace, and ordnvwl the headsman to be summoned. Theu the queen, falling on her knees, said, "Ah, gentle sire! since I have crossed the seas in great danger I have asked you nothing ; but now I implore you, for the sake of the Son of the Holy Mary, and for your love of me, you will have mercy on these six men." The queen had every right to ask such a boon. She had come to announce to the king that she had been able to defend his kingdom in his absence from the Scots, to win a great victory at Neville's Cross, and to take the King of Scots captive. She was, moreover, far advanced in pregnancy, and yet had run every hazard to bring him such great tidings. The king must have been more insensible than a stone to refuse her. "Ah I dame," he said, "I could well wish that you had been elsewhere this day ; but how can I deny you anything." Take these men, and dispose of them as you will." The delighted queen thanked the king heartily, had befitting attire brought for these worthy citizens, gave them in her tent a good repast, and presenting them each with six nobles, sent them away, giving orders that they should be guarded safely through the host to the town gates. This scene, which is related on the testimony of Frois- sai't, who dedicated his history to th'- cjueeu herself, has been questioned by some historians as doubtful, paiti- cularly as Avesbury, who is minute in his relation of the Buxiender of Calais, is silent about it; and as it B(?tnis loo derogatory to the magnanimity of Edward III., after suffering so many of the inhabitants to pass out of the city, and even relieving their wants. Bult we must re- member what was the king's conduct at Caen, and also what is assorted of his immovable disregard to the }ieiishing cries of the second crowd sent out of the city ; and that Froissart was a contemporary. Under all these circum- stances, the transaction appears highly probable, iind mankind will not readily give up a passage of human life so full of noble sacrifice and sympathy, and which has held its place firmly in history and tradition for 500 years. The very next act of Edward tends to confirm the nar- rative, for it was one of unforgiving sternness as well as policy. The day following the surrender, August 4th, 1347, the king and queen rode into the town amid the sound of martial music, and followed by all their great lords and many men-at-arms. There they took up their quarters, and remained till the queen was delivered of a daughter, thence named Margaret of Calais. Immediately on taking possession, ho ordered every inhabitant to quit the city, dispossessing them of their houses and property within the town, and substituting a thoroughly English popula- tion. The new inhabitants of the town were substantial citizens of London, and great numbers of agricultural people from the adjoining county of Kent, to wliom he gave the surrounding lands. From that day to the reign of Queen Mary, Calais became altogether an English colony. He made it the staple of wool, leather, lead, and tin, the four principal articles which England furnished to the Continent, and where the for-eigu merchants could come to procure them. Having strengthened the defences of the town, Edward concluded a truce with I'hilip, which was by degrees extended to six years. Neither of these 3SS OASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1350. monarclig, however, -would have listened to tei-ms of peace but for the constant and meritorious entreaties of the Pope. He then returned to England, but was very soon startled by a foul act of treacherj' on the part of the seneschal of the castle of Calais. Lord John Montgomery was left governor of the town — a brave and trustworthy man ; but the governor of the castle, which commanded the place, was one Emeric, or iVimery, of Pavia, a favourite officer of the king, who had lived in his court from child- hood, and had shown much bravery in the war, but who was not proof to the temptation of money. This faiUng Sir Geoffrey de Charni, the commander of the French at St. Omer, who was there posted to watch the English garrison, soon discovered. He offered Sir Emeric 20,090 crowns to put him in possession of Calais, which was ac- cepted. This fact was at once communicated to Edward by Sir Emeric's secretary, and the king sent for the governor to London, when he showed him that he was cog- nisant of his plot, but offered him his life on condition that he turned his treachery against the enemy. The supple traitor readily consented, and Edward, taking with him Sir Walter Manny and the Prince of Wales, with about 1,000 men, secretly departed for Calais in mid-winter. Charni, who had failed to hear of this, appeared at the appointed time to be admitted to the city. Sir Emeric opened a postern, and admitted a small detachment of the French, bearing the money. This Sir Emeric cast into a chest, saying, " We have other work to do than to count money at present." The postern was suddenly closed ; the French were cut down or overpowered by numbers, and thrust into a dungeon. Meantime Charni had advanced along the narrow causeway from the bridge at Neuilly, where he left a rear-guard, to the Boulogne gate of the city ; and while expecting to be admitted they saw the gate open, and a body of men-at-arms, but most of them on foot, and attended by 300 archers, issue forth, with the cry of " Manny to the rescue." Perceiving that they were betrayed, they out their spears to the length of five feot, dismounted, and stood to their arms. But they were in a perilous position; for the king had dispatched six banners and 300 archers on horseback by a circuitoifs route to the bridge of Neuilly, where they quickly dis- lodged the rear-guard of the French. Thus the troops on the narrow causeway were completely enclosed, and the battle became desperate. Edward fought at the head of his soldiers, without any mark of distinction upon him except his cries of " Ha ! St. George ! Ha ! St. Edward ! " accompanying every shout with a stroke of his two- handeu sword. At length he encountered a knight named Eustace do Ribeaumont, who quailed all who approached him. Twice he beat the king to the gi-ound ; and it was only when Ribeaumont saw that he was left almost alone on the causeway by his countrymen, and surrounded by the English, that ho surrendered his sword to the king, but without knowing who he was. The whole of the French on the causeway were killed or made prisoners, except a few who escaped on horse- back at an early period. At night, the French officers taken were invited to supper in a groat hall, where the king sat at the head of the table, and the Prince of Wales aud nobility served during the first course. There the king let them know \7l10m they had had the honour- of contending with; and approaching Charni, he told him that he was a better bargain-maker than himself, for hf was near getting Calais for 20,000 crowns, whereas it had cost him hundreds of thousands. But to Ribeaumont he gave the highest compliments ; and taking from his head a chaplet of pearls, he put it oh that of the knight, and bade him wear it a year and a day in his honour. He then told him he was no longer a prisoner, but at liberty without ransom. "Nothing," says David Hume, very justly, "proves more evidently the vast superiority assumed by tho nobility and gentry above all other orders of men diuing those ages, than tho extreme difference which Edward made in his treatment of the French knights and that of the six citizens of Calais, who had exerted more signal bravery in a cause more justifiable and moro honourable.''' The samo historian might have added that, though on all the occasions which we have narrated, both in Scot- land and France, the real business of the battle was done by the unrivalled archers of England, no particular mark of honoui- or note of fame was conferred on them ; but for the knights and nobles new kinds of distinction were invented. Amongst these, at this precise period, origi- nated the celebrated Order of the Garter, which still retains its value in the eyes of aspirants to royal rewards. This order was instituted to excite emulation amongst the aristocratic warriors of the time, in imitation of orders of a similar nature, both religious and military, which had been created by difierent monarchs of Europe. The number was, and is stQl, confined to twenty-five persons, besides the sovereign, except princes of the blood and illustrious foreigners, who have been admitted since the reign of George III., and hence the high value attached to this badge of distinction. The traditionary story of iis origin is, that at a state ball the king's mistress, a Countess of Salisbury, dropped her garter, which the king picked up, and, observing some of the courtiers smile at the action, as if they thought he had not obtained that favour merely by acci- dent, he exclaimed, " Honi soil qui mal y pense .'" (Evil to- him who evil thinks), which became the motto of tho order. Historians have chosen to doubt on this subject, as on many others ; and antiquarians have puzzled them- selves to discover some other origin : as that the garter was simply adopted as a sjTubol of union, and in compli- ment to the ladies ; but still the story is a very probable one, and the tradition retains its full hold on public belief. The order was founded, according to the statutes, in 1350, and even to the time of Edward IV. ladies wero admitted and wore tho badge of the order. The wives of the knights companions and other great ladies had robes, the gift of the sovereign, ornamented with small garters. Our queens generally wear the garter, set with diamonds, on the left arm. But in the midst of the gaieties, giving of honours, and festivities which succeeded the conquest of Calais and tho glory of Crcfy, there came one of those terrible visitations which from time to time have swept over Europe under the general name of plague or pestilence— awful mes- sengers of Providence to men, warning them to observe cleanly and healthy habits of life. These fatal epidemics have always appeared to originate in the same quarter— A.D. 1350.3 DEATH OF PHILIP OP FRANCE. 389 eastern Asia — and to sweep over the earth in every direc- tion, as in radiation from that centre, carrying wholesale destruction into every place where the inhabitants were not careful to observe sanitary regulations. By medical men the disease has been regarded as a virulent species of typhus fever, which in modem times has assumed the chai'acter of cholera, which issues periodically from the same regions, and travels the earth, fi.xiug on every spot where there is a crowded population living in dirty dwel- lings, ill-drained streets, swampy hollows, and amid any vapours of putridity. Like the cholera, the plague had its cold succeeded by its hot fits, attended by vomiting, diarrhoea, and great depression of the vital powers. The cholera now issues from India; the plague of the time of Edward III. was traced to China, and visited on its way India, Egj-pt, Greece, and most of the western nations of Europe. Stowe says that in one churchyard in London, piu-chased by Sir Walter Manny for the poor, 50,000 bodies were buried. In fact, it fell, like the cholera, most severely on the poorer and worst lodged and fed people ; is said to have half depopulated England ; and so many of the inferior clergy perished that very many churches were left without any one to perform the service. The mass of wealth brought from France by the vic- torious army did not prevent the finances of Edward from being in a very exhausted and unsatisfactory state. Thoso of the King of Franco were worse ; and these causes tended to prolong the truce. Edward several times proposed to Philip to make a permanent peace, on condition that the sovereignty of Guicnno, Calais, and other lands held in fief b}^ the English in France should be acknowledged on Edward's renouncing all claim to the crown of that country. Philip steadfastly refused to listen to such terms. He died during this truce, and Edward renewed his offer to his successor, John, but with like effect. About this time Edward and his son, the Black Prince, put to sea with a good fleet to chastise the Spaniards of the ports on the Bay of Biscay, who had repeatedly joined the French in intercepting and seizing his merchant ves- sels. The battle was fought within view of the English coast, and was watched by the queen's attendants from the hills behind Wiuchelsea. The engagement was con- tested with great valour on both sides ; and in it both the king and prince had very nearly terminated their lives, for their ship was sinking, and they were only just saved by the Earl of Lancaster coming to their assistance. The result was a great victory to the English, and the capture of fourteen of the Spanish vessels, though with great loss of life on our side. . Amongst the minor mortifications of Edward about this time, we may mention that his knight, Sir Emerio de Pavia, who so nearly sold Calais, but who afterwards fought bravely, and took the fortress of Ouisnes, was cap- tured by his old acquaintance, Charni, whom he so bit- ierly deceived at the feigned surrender of Calais. Charni, 'therefore, took summary vengeance on him, causing his spurs to be hacked from his heels, as one unworthy of knighthood, and then having him torn to pieces by wild horses pulling in different directions. His great friend and counsellor. Sir Godfrey de Har- court, who had led him to seize Calais, also went back and made his humble submission to Philip before his death, throwing himself at the monarch's feet with a towel twisted round his neck like a halter, and expreesing his remorse for having gone over to the English. But circumstances were ripening, destined to involve England and France again in war. Johti, the son of Philip, whom wo have often met under the name of the Duke of Normandj', commanding the armies against the English and Bretons, succeeded his father in 1350. He was then about thirty-one years of age, courageous, of gieat in- tegrity of mind, possessing much experience for his age, and altogeUier a fur more honourable prince than hio father, whom his subjects hated for his avarice, and ft : his reckless invasion of their rights. He had, in b r youth, been termed the Fortunate, but proved eventually more entitled to the cognomen of the Unlucky. John was now, by contrast, styled the Good ; but John, how- ever well-meaning, was evidently destitute of real sagacitj", and his verj' sense of honour hurried him into the com- mission of deeds which earlj' shook his popularity. Thd Count de Brieune, Count of Eu and Gnisnes, and Con- stable of France, was accused of an intention to betray his county of Guisnes, adjacent to the town of Calais, to the EngUsh monarch. John caused him to be seized at a festival at Paris iuimediatelj' after his coronation, and threw him into a dungeon, whence, three days afterwards, he brought him out before the lords of his council, and, without any form of trial or permission of defence, had his head struck oflT. This arbitrary act excited great fears of the futuio proceedings of the king amongst his nobility. But John's authority was very soon invaded and dis- turbed by his near kinsman, Charles, King of Navarro. This young prince was of the blood royal of France. His mother was daughter of Louis X., called Louis Hutin, and came to court and sought to render himself highly popular with both king and people. He succeeded so well, that he obtained the king's daughter, Joan, who must have been a mere girl at that time. It was soon found, however, that ho was a mixture of the most shining talents and the most diabolical quahties. He was handsome, bold, eloquent, affable in his manners, and most in- sinuating in his address, but, at the same time, inti-iguing, ambitious, unprincipled, and revengeful. He had always some daring scheme on foot, and, if he faUed, abandoned it without care, and plunged into another. He demanded of the king the post of Constable of Normandy, vacated by the execution of De Brieune ; and when the king, fearing his possession of that important command, be- stowed it upon his favourite, Charles do la Ccrda, the King of Navarre assassinated him in his castle of De TAigle, in Normandy. Ho then boldly avowed the deed, put himself at the head of an armed force, called around him all the hot and disaffected young nobility of France, de- clared himself independent of the French crown, and made offers of alliance with the English. John called upon him to lay down his arms, and resume his placo a.s a good subject; but he refused, except on condition of au' absolute pardon for the murder of the constable, largo grants of money and lands, and, above all, the delivery of the second son of John as a hostage for the laithful maintenance of the contract. The French king was weak enough to comply ; and then Charles of Navai-rc, in March, 1355, went to court, where John sat imposingly on his throne, and Navarre 396 OASSBLL'S ILL,USTIIATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1355. went through a farce of submission. The King of Eng- land, believing that it would not be long before the in- trigues of the King of Navarre would produce civil discord in France, and expose it to his own plans of invasion, sent country of Toulouse and took Carcassonne, Narbonne, and several other towns, and committed great ravages. Edward at the same time attacked Franco on the side of Normandy. He advanced to St. Omer, where the King a* « the Prince of Wales, now universally called the Black Prince, from the colour of his armour, into Gascony and Aquitaine, as his lieutenant, with an army which soon grew there to 60,000 men. Thence he soon entered the of Franco had posted himself in expectation of this attack , but John took cnre not to come to open battle. The state of the internal affairs of his kingdom probably in- spired John with caution, for his treacherous cousin of A.D. 1356.Tj EDWARD ni. S9t The Battle of Poiotiors. (See page 393.) '892 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLANIr. [A.D. 1356. Navarre had resumed his seditious courses. He had united himself with the factious Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, and had succeeded in even -winning over for awhile Charles, the king's eldest son, only seventeen years of age, to his party. But the young prince — the first Prince Eoyal of France who ever bore the title of dauphin, from his father having purchased that duchy for 100,000 florins, and conferred its feudal title on him — was soon repentant of his unfilial conduct, and betrayed Charles of Navarre, and a number of his noble associates, into his father's hands. The most guilty of the nobles were at once executed, and the King of Navarre thrown into prison. But this did not mend matters. The brother of Charles, Philip of Navarre, assumed the management of affairs, put all his towns and castles into a state of defence, and renewed the alliance with the English. Thus situated, John avoided an engagement which might be followed by an over- throw, and leave France exposed to the united efforts of his internal and foreign enemies. He contented him- Belf with sending a challenge to fight a battle with Edward, for which he made no disposition whatever, so that Edward treated the offer with contempt, and retired to Calais. From Calais he was speedily recalled to England by an incursion of the Scots, the usual diversion now of the French kings. Edward appeared before Berwick in the middle of winter, January, 1356, and, as usual, at his appearance the Scots withdrew. Edward, determined this time, if possible, to finish the subjugation of Scot- land, made a contract at Roxburgh, on the 20th of January, with Edward Baliol, by which he purchased all the rights of Baliol to the Scottish thi'one for 5,000 marks and an annuity of £2,000. These rights wera about as real as the rights of Edward to the crown of France. The Scotch had expelled Baliol in 1341, and renounced him and his claims for ever. But with this pi-etension Edward once more marched through the Lothians with fire and sword, burnt Edinburgh and Haddington, and then retreated for want of provisions, pursued by the Scots, who now ad- vanced from their hiding-places, and dreadfully harassed the rear of his army. After this, Edward Baliol, freed from any pretence on the crown of Scotland, lived in retirement, and died without heii-s in 1367. Affairs in France were now approaching a crisis which ■well nigh proved fatal to the independence of that country. Edward III. , learning that the internal disorders of France increased in consequence of the imprisonment of Charles of Navarre, sent out a .small army under the Earl of Lancaster to co-operate with the party of that prince in Normandy. At the same time the Black Prince, who had returned from his Toulouse expedition to Bordeaux, set out once more with an army not exceeding 12,000 men, and few of them English except a body of archers. He now directed his marauding expedition northwards, and went on laying waste the country, and burning and plundering towns, in a style which this young prince, celebrated by the historians for every virtue, appeared especially to delight in. He ravaged the Agenois and Limousin, Auvergne, Marche, and Berri. He attacked the cities of Bourgos and Issodun, but without success ; and it then appeared that his intention was to advance to Normandy, and join his forces to those under Lancaster. But he found all the bridges on the Loire broken down, and the news which reached him of the motions of the King of France inclined him to retreat. John, exaspe- rated at the devastations of the prince, and thinking that he had every chance of defeating him in his rash advance into the heart of the kingdom with so small a force, set out to intercept his retui'n, 'with an army of upwards of 60,000 men. The prince, on his way, took the town of Vierson by storm, and bui-nt Ramorantin, about ten leagues from Blois. John marched for Blois, and, crossing the Loire, ad- vanced for Poictiers ; and the country people, naturally enraged at the prince's wanton destruction of every place he approached, kept him in ignorance of the king's ap- proach. Edward, therefore, unconsciouslj' advanced on Poictiers, and on the 17th of September came, all un- awares, on the rear of the French army at the village of Maupertuis, only two leagues from Poictiers. His scouts came galloping in, announcing that the whole country was filled by the great army. And, in fact, never did a King of France command a more promising force. Consisting of 60,000 men, there were in it 20,000 men-at-arms, including 2,000 men-at-arms, or cavalry, sent by the Soots. Most of the princes of the b'lood were with him, and the greater part of the nobihtj-. On the other hand, the Prince of Wales's troops had decreased to about 10,000, of whom the bulk were Gascons; but he had 4,000 archers, and in them was the grand de- pendence. The circumstances were such as to confound the bravest and most experienced commander ; but the prince, though sensible of the seriousness of his situation, did not for a moment lose heart. With consummate ability he took up his position on the summit of a gentle declivity, planted with vineyards, approachable only by one narrow road flanked with hedges and thickets. This ground, so strong by nature, he employed the whole army to make stronger by trenches and embankments. Sir Eustace de Eibeau- mont, the stalwart knight who had fought with his father at Calais, went out with three other knights to recon- noitre the English army, and brought this word to the King of France: — "Sir, we have seen the enemy. By our guess, they amount to 2,000 men-at-arms, 4,000 archers, and 1,500 or 2,000 other men; and appear to form one division. They are strongly posted, wisely ordered, and their position is well nigh inaccessible. In order to attack them, there is but one passage, where four horsemen may ride abreast, which leads to the centre of their line. The hedges that flank this passage are lined with archers, and the English main body itself consists of dismounted men-at-arms, arranged in the form of a herse or harrow. By this diSicult passage alone can you ap- proach the English position ; consider, therefore, what is ■ best to bo done." King John hearing this, determined to charge the English on foot ; ordering all his men-at-arms to dis- mount, take off theii' spurs, and cut their spears to the length of five feet. Three hundred horsemen only were to remain mounted, in order to break the line of archers by a violent charge, and make way for the infantry. Edward, on his part, drew up his forces, not in one division, as when seen by De Ribeaumout, but in three, with a detachment of cavalry apart under the celebrated Captal de Buche, who was to take a compass roiand A.D. 1356.] BATTLE OF POICTIEES. 398 the hill during the fight, and fall on the rear of the Prench. When about to engage, however, two legates from the Pope, Cardinals Talleyiaiid de Perigord and Capoccio, came into both the French and English camps, and used every endeavoiu- to incline the two princes to peace. The Prince of Wales was so sensible of his critical situation that he made the most liberal offers. " Save my honour," he said, " and that of my army, and i ivill listen to any- thing." He proposed, indeed, to give up all the towns and castles which he had taken both in this and the former campaign, give up all his prisoners without ran- som, and swear never again for seven years to bear arms against the King of 3?rance. Never was a fkier opportunity for securing a splendid triumph, in the sui-render of so renowned an enemy ; but John the Good again showed that he was not John the Wise. He was elated with the persuasion that he had the prince whoUy in his power ; and the very liberality of his offer only confirmed the fatal idea. He therefore insisted on the sui-render of the prince, and a hundi-ed of his best knights, flattering himself that in holding them he held the restitution of Calais. The prince at once and indig- nantly rejected the proposal. The Christian efforts of the humane cardinals were abortive ; the greater part of the day, which was Sunday, had been wasted in these nego- tiations. The prince's army was badly off for provisions for either man or horse ; but they cheerfully spent the remainder of the day in strengthening their defences, and arranging their baggage behind them, as at Crecy. The next morning, Monday, the 19th of September, the Prench anny was again drawn out ; and again Cardinal TaUeyraud endeavoured to move the mind of the French king ; but he repulsed him rudely. John had arranged his army in three divisions : the first commanded by his brother, the Duke of Orleans ; the second by the dauphin, and two of his younger brothers ; the third by the king himself, who had at his side hia fourth and favourite son Philip, then about fom-teen years of age. Edward, on the other hand, commanded the main bod}'' of his army, and placed the van under the command of the Earl of Warwick. Just before the battle. Sir James Audley came before the prince and begged that he might begin the battle, in accordance with a vow he had made to do so in every battle of the prince's or of his father. The prince consented, and Sir James took his place with four stout esquires in the van ; and thus the battle began. The Marshals of France, Andreghen and Clermont, were ordered to advance and take possession of the lane leading to the English position, and disperse the archers who lined the hedges; but as fast as the}' entered the lane they were shot down. Mai'shal Andreghen was speedily wounded and made prisoner, and Clermont was killed. The horsemen, rapidly thinned, reached the end of the lane only to encoxmter the main body of the Black Prince's army. There Sir James Audley led on the charge, beating down all who approached. At the same instant, the detachment of Captal de Buche, attended by 600 bow- men, made their attack on the flank of the dauphin's division. This movement threw the whole division into confusion. The archers shot so well and thickly that the dauphin's second division dispersed in haste. The knights, alarmed for their horses left in the rear, were the first to run from their banners, and aU was instantly one scene of flight. The dauphin and his brother wore escorted from the spot by 800 lances, under the knights Landas, Bodenai, and St. Venant ; and the army of the Black Prince seeing this, and that the Duke of Orleans was in full retreat with his van-guard, sprang to their saddles, shouting, " St. George for Guienne !" and Sir John Chandos exclaimed to the prince, " Sire, ride forward, the day is won ! Let us charge on the King of France, for well I know that ho is too bold to flee, and there only will the battle bo ; and wo shall take him, please God and St. .George!" "Advance banners, in the name of God and St. George!" cried the prince, and they dashed down the lane, bearing all before them, riding over dead and wounded, till they came out on the plain where the king yet stood with his division, and they burst upon them with a fearful shock. But the king stood his ground, fighting manfully, leading up his division on foot and hewing his way with his battle-axe; so that, says Froissart, had the knights of King John fought as woU, the issue of the day might have been different. The Con- stable of France stood firmly by his sovereign with his squadron of horse, shouting " Mountjoy, St. Denis!" but before the impetuous onset of the English men-at-arms, his troops were cut down and himself was slain. The"* the Prince of Wales attacked a body of German cavalry, under the Count Sallebruohe and two other generals, and there was a desperate conflict ; but the German generals were all killed, and then the cavalry gave way and left the king almost alone. Still the king fought on, and re- fused to surrender, though his few remaining followers were fast falling, and his nobles one after another sunk around him. His son, the boy of fourteen, fighting bravely in defence of his father, was wounded, and the king might easily have been slain, but every one was anxious to take him alive. Several who attempted to seize him he felled to the ground. When called upon to yield he still cried out, "Where is my cousin, the Prince of Wales?" tin- willing to sui-render to any one of less rank. A knight fiom St. Omer, who had been banished for homicide, said, " Sire, the prince is not here; but I will conduct you to him." "But who are you?" demanded the king; and the knight replied, " I am Denis de Morbeque, a knight of Artois, but serving the King of England because I cannot belong to France, having been banished thence." " I surrender to you," said the king, giving his glove to Sir Denis. But there was violent sti-uggling for pos- session of the king, every one saying, " I took him," and some of the rude soldiers declaring that they would kill him Lf not surrendered to them. At this moment arrived the Earl of Warwick, sent by the Black Prince to discover what was become of the king, and he conducted John and his son with great respect to the prince's tent. Thus terminated the battle of Poictiers, one of the most wonderful victories ever achieved, being won by an army numerically only one-sixth of that which it defeated, and fighting under the disadvantage of being surrounded in the enemy's country, and against the King of France in person, with all his chivalry. Thus stood King John, a captive at the end of the fight whoro, without striking a single blow, he might have expelled the English army from his soil, and bound the formidable Prince of Wales to a peace of seven years. 394 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OF ENGLAm). [a.d. 13oT. The true glory, therefore, of the Black Prince was that, 60 far from taunting John with this, he received him with the utmost courtesy. He advanced from his tent to meet the captive king with every mark of respect and regard. He bade him not think too much of the fortune of war, but to bear in mind that he had won the admiration of both armies, and the fame of the bravest man who had fought on that side. He caused a banquet to be spread in his tent for the king and his dauntless son, who thence- forward, from his stoical heroism, bore the name of Philip the Hardy. Edward refused to sit down at the table, as being only a vassal of the King of France. He said, " You shall find my father ready to show you all honour and friendship, and you shall, if you will, become such friends as you have never yet been." The king was so much touched by the respect and kindness of Edward, that he declared, though defeated, it was no loss of honour to yield to a prince of such consummate valour and gsnerosity. The attendants of the king are said to have been affected to tears by the noble conduct and consoling words of the prince to their royal master, and the spirit spread through the army towards all the prisoners. Edward also showed the same spirit of justice and liberality towards others. He presented to Sir James Audley 600 marks of yearly revenue for his services in the action ; and when he found that he had transferred the whole of it to his four squires, he again settled £400 yearly upon him. He also heard all the eager and conflicting claims respecting the capture of the king, the distinction and the ransom being alluring objects; and finally adjudged it impartially, not to any of his own great barons, but to the poor Flinch exile Sir Denis de Morbeque. The prince conducted his royal prisoner to Bordeaux, whence, in the following April, he set sail with him and his son for London. They made their entrance into the English capital on the 24th of that month, 13j7, landing at Southwark, whence they rode in procession thi-ough the city to Westminster, vast crowds attending them the whole way to satiate their wonder at the novel spectacle of the monarch of France riding there as a captive. He was clad in his royal robes, and mounted on a white steed of remarkable size and beauty ; while the Prince of Wales rode by his side, clad in a much plainer dress, and on a black palfi-ey. This might, to oui' present ideas, have appeared an aping of humility ; but it was doubt- less dictated to the prince by a chivalrous courtesy, and presented a fine contrast to the savage pomp of a Roman triumph, in which great kings and queens, amid all the spoils of their ravaged realms, were made to walk in chains, while the proud conqueror rode in his chariot blazing with gold. It was, indeed, a time of singular triumph to the Eng- lish people, for there were now two captive kings, those of France and Scotland, in their metropolis. Edward III. advanced to meet King John at the gates of his palace with the gi-eatest coui-tesy, and received him, not as a prisoner, but as a neighbouring potentate arrived on a social visit. The King of Scots had now been a captive in England eleven years. There had been no want of endeavours on the part of the Scots or of the King of England to effect Ha liberation. During the earlj' portion of David's cap- tivity this was not so much the case, because there was a strong leaning in him towards the French alliance — a natural result of his nine years' kind entertainment in that kingdom in his early youth. But his sojourn in England produced as decided an attachment to the Eng- lish ; and Edward, perceiving this, was willing to have on the throne of Scotland a friend who might counteract the hostile tendency of the nobles. During the last six years, various negotiations had been entered into with the Scots for the release of David, but the ransom was con- sidered by them too high. In 1351 this cause broke off the treaty; in 1354 the Scots agreed to give a ransom of 90,000 marks, payable in nine years. But their French allies, dreading an amicable state of things between Scot- land and England, having lately lost Calais, and being then threatened with a fresh invasion by the English, induced the Scots to break the agreement. The effect of this measure was speedily seen in an invasion of England by the Scots, which compelled Edward to return fi-om Normandy, and was followed by his celebrated raid, called the "Burnt Candlemas," in Scotland. Now, hew- ever, a treaty was concluded, in which the Scots con- sented to pay 100,000 marks in ten years, giving hostages for the due fulfilment of this compact. In November of this year, 1357, David was restored to Ubei'ty, and re- turned to his kingdom ; and, before reverting to the prosecution of the war with France, we may briefly state what were the consequences of this transaction. It soon became evident that the abode of David at the English court had produced the same effect as that for- merly made upon hiTn by his residence in the court of France. His facile and amiable but weak mind had been completely won over by Edward, who now saw, as he imagined, a quieter and more eflfeotual mode of secuiing the crown of Scotland than by war. David had lost his wife, the sister of Edward, but had no children. He had gi-own fonder of the more polished and luxui-ious court of England than of his own ruder country and tiu'bulent nobles. He did not, therefore, hesitate, after the death of his wife, to propose to the Scottish Parliament that, in case of his dying without issue, Edward's third son, the Duke of Cambridge, should succeed him. The Scots, of course, rejected the proposal without ceremony. Still it was well known that a secret treaty existed between David and Edward III. for this object. In 1371 David died, and Robert Stewart, the gi-andson of Robert Bruce, by David's eldest sister, Marjoiy, succeeded to the thi'one, by the full consent of the Scottish Parliament, under the title of Robert II. Though Edward menaced, he never asserted his new claim to the crown, for his hands were full with the French war, and, soon after, the death of his son, the Black Prince, put an end to all such ideas. From that time to the reign of James VI., a period of 232 years, the Stewarts continued to reign, when they also succeeded to the crown of England, and thus pre- pared the way for the ultimate and entire union of the kingdoms. The battle of Poictiers filled up the measure of the calamities of France. Cretjy was a decisive blow; the loss of Calais was another. But these were still only a minor portion of the losses and miseries which had been crowding upon her through ten years of invasion. Nor- mandy, Artois, Ficardy, and the southern provinces of A.D. 1353.] IXSUEKECTION IN FRANCE. 395 Franco had been, repeatedly traversed by Hostile armies, their fields laid waste, their cattle driven off or destroyed, their crops trodden under foot; their cities, towns, and villages burnt or pillaged. Ij>' sea or by land France iiad sufTered defeat and heavj' loss of men, ships, and property. At Shiys, in mid Channel, and on various parts of the coast, the English had destroyed her fleets. In defending her ally of Brittany, Chailes of Blois, her treasures had been largely drawn upon ; and now came this desolating overthrow, in which the flower of her nobility was crushed or made captive with theu' king. That captivity let looso all the elements of disorder which had been accumulating through these terrible years. The people were impoverished, and numbers of them utterly ruined ; all were wretched and discontented. The nobles were grown arrogant with the weakness of the state, and the country was overrun with bands of armed marauders, calling themselves " Free Companions," who preyed at will on the already sorely fleeced people, com- mitting every species of outrage, and thus aggravating awfully the miseries of the nation. The dauphin was only a youth of eighteen, and, though possessed of superior talents, and unusual prudence and spirit for his age, was necessai-ily destitute of that au- thority and that experience which such a crisis required, and his two younger brothers could afford him no assist- ance in so difficult a position. Besides the want of sup- port in the members of his own family, he had a most dangerous and indefatigable enemy in his relative, the King of Navarre, who possessed that determined dispo- sition to mischief which most trulj' entitled him to the name given him bj- the public, Charles the Bad. He was still in prison, but he found means through stone walls to exercise his pre-eminent talents for in- trigue, treachery, and malicious machinations. Pretend- ing even to the crown, he had all the seditious arts and fiery recklessness of the demagogue ; and he stooped to ally himself with any malcontent class, or to work wdth any dirty tool. Accordingly, when the dauphin called together the states of the kingdom to enable him to obtain supplies, and reasonably imagining that he should find all classes, under the calamitous condition of the country, ready to unite with him for the restoration of the king, and the re-establishment of order, he was met by demands for the limitation of the royal prerogative, the punishment of past offenders, and, above all, for the release of the King of Navarro. Undoubtedly there were many evils to redress, and abuses of the royal power to complain of ; but this was not the time when honourable men would have sought to enforce these objects. It was taking a cowardly advan- tage of the unfortunate position of a mere youth, to wrest from him what he had no legal authority to yield. Brave ?-nd upright men would have brought back the monarch, and from him demanded those measures which justice and the circumstances of the kingdom required. But what should have been reform was dastardly and lawless faction ; and the very naming of tlio King of NavaiTc, the evil genius of France, betrayed its real origin. Marcel, the provcjt of the morcliants, was the deter- mined tool of Charles y2 Navarre, who put himself at the head of the moi-i, and endeavoured to toriify the dauphin into Eubciissiou to his demands. The states, influenced by the same spirit, demanded the entire change of the king's ministers, the punishment of several of them ; and, dividing itself into separate committees, attempted to usurp the different departments of the executive. The dauphin was only to act under the control of a council of thirty-six members of the states-general, in which were to reside the powers of the whole body, and the King of Navarre was at once to be liberated. The dauphin tem- porised with the art of a much older man, till he had obtained from the states some supplies, with which he proposed to put down disorders in the provinces, and then he dissolved the states, spite of the citizens of Paris, headed by Marcel and Eonsac the sherifi". Freed fi-om this millstone about his neck, Charles dis- patched Sir Eobeit de Clermont, a brave commander, into Normandy, against Sir Godfrey de Harcourt, who was again gone over to the English, in resentment for the execution of his brother. Count Harcourt, as one of the adherents of the factious King of Navarre. Sir Robert de Clermont came up with Sir Godfrey near Coutances, in November, 1356, and not only routed his forces, but slew him. Soon after this a truce was made with the English in Normandj' ; but still the captains of Edward pursued their predatorj- career in Brittany and Gascony. To complete the mischief, the King of Navarro escaped from his prison at Creave-cceur, and was received with raptures by the disaffected people of Amiens and Paris. He harangued the people in those cities, and seemed, by the drift of his speeches, to aim at a republic. His brother, Philip of NavaiTC, remained in the Enghsh camp, and denounced the idea of a republic as pregnant with disorder, mutability, and bloodshed. Charles, the dauphin, was compelled to call the states- general together again, to demand fresh taxes for the prosecution of the war ; but Marcel, the democratic pro- vost, uniting with the King of Navarre, opposed all his measures, and excited the people to violence. He caused them to assume blue hats, as a badge of their adherence to his party, which, from its co-operation with Charles of Navarre, was also called the Navarreso party. Matters now ripened apace from anarchy into civil war. In February, 1358, a man of the name of Mace, having murdered the treasui-er of France, took refuge in a church. The dauphin ordered him to be fetched thence, and put to death. But when Robert de Clermont and John de Con- flans, the marshals of France, went to execute this command, the Bishop of Paris protested against it as a violation of the sanctuary of the church; and Marcel, the provost, seizing so admirable an opportunity for bearding the dauphin, marched with the whole mob of Paris to his p.alace, then called the Palais de Justice. Entering without any regard to the person of the daiiphin, he seized the two marshals and put them to deith so close to the prince that his dress was sprinkled with their blood. " How now," cried the dauiihin ; " will you shed the blood royal of Franco?" Marcel replied, "No;" and, to show his pacific intentions, he rudely snatched from the dauphin's head the embroidered hat of a pale rose colour, put it on his own head, and clapped his own blue hat on that of tho dauphin. Tho bodies of the murdered marshals wero dragged through tho streets, where, during the day, Marcel went about in the dau- pMn'f) bat. 393 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1360. Thus the capital of France was reduced to the utmost anarchy. The dauphin returned into Picardy and Cham- pagne, where he assembled the states of those provinces, and was aided by them to the best of their ability. But all France was one scene of discord, insurrection, vio- lence, and crime. The mercenary and predatory bands of the Companions, many of whom, or at least their leaders, were English, were engaged by the King of Navarre to carry out his projected republic. The dauphin, on the other side, assembled forces to oppose him ; and now broke out one of the most frightful calamities which can afHict a nation — that of a peasants' war. In the reign of Richard IL in England, some few years after this time, our own country was on the verge of such a horrible state of things, under Wut Tyler and Jack Straw. At the time of the Reformation, Germany experienced its unspeakable atrocities, under the name of the Bauem Krieg, or War of the Peasantry, and France now was doomed to di-ink deeply of its demon horrors, under the name of the Jaquerie, from the gentry being used to call the peasants Jaques Bonhomme, or Goodman James. The country people, ground by a long course of exaction, oppression, and insult, treated more as beasts than men by their feudal lords, now seized the moment, when the Gevernment was beset with difficulties and enemies, to take a blind, sweeping, and tremendous vengeance. The nobility and the petty gentry holding fiefs under them had all been accustomed to plunder, tread on, and abuse the peasantry as a race of inferior creatures. The feudal system had rim to seed in unbridled license, and in every species of infuriating wrong. Ignorant and outraged, the people, once broke loose, placed no ^mits to their cruelties and revenge. They despised the nobles, who, while they had oppressed theui, had, in base cowardice, deserted their sovereign at Poictiers. Formerly crushed down into slaves, they were now terrible masters. They burnt and laid waste the country everywhere, plundered the villages, and cut off the supplies of the terrified towns. They attacked the castles of the nobles, burnt them to the ground, chased their once proud owners like wild beasts into the woods, committed horrors which cannot be named on the helpless women, mui'dered them and the children without mercy, and, as in Germany afterwards, actually roasted some of their former harsh lords before slow fires. Of the frightful situation to which the highest ladies of the countiy were reduced, Froissart gives a striking ex- limple. The Duchess of Normandy, the Duchess of Oi-leans, and nearly 300 ladies, young girls, and children, had fled for refuge to the sti'ong town of Meaux, and were besieged by 9,000 or 10,00C of the furious Jaquerie, when they were threaitened with every horror that human nature could endure. Fortunately, two famous knights of the directly opposite parties, the Count of Foix, and the brave Captal de Buche, who made the successful rear assault at the battle of Poictiers, hearing of the alarming situation of these high ladies, forgot their hostihty, united their forces, and falling on the Jaquerie, put them to the Bword, kiUing 7,000 of thorn, and rescuing the terrified women. The dauphin, on his part, did not spare the insurgents. He cut them down like sheep wherever he could meet with them. In one case he is said to have killed more than 20,000 of them. The Sue de Couci, in Picardy and Artois, mowed them down like grass, and soon cleared that part of the country of them. Everywhere the knight* and gentry, roused by the ferocious deeds of the Jaquerie towards their families, collected, and easily overcoming their undisciplined mobs, slaughtered them in heaps like beasts without mercy. At the same time, Marcel, en- deavouiing to complete his crime by betraying Paris to the King of NavaiTe and the English, was killed by the exasperated people, and thus the land was eventuall}- re- duced to quiet. But it was a quiet like that described by the Roman historian : — " SoUiudinem faciunt, pacem appel- lant : they make a solitude, and call it peace." No coun- try was ever reduced to a more awful condition of ruin and wide-spread desolation ; this frightful Jaquerie pest lasted nearly two years. Meantime Edward had worked on his captive. King John of France, to make a peace, restoring to England all the provinces which had belonged to Henry II. and his two sons, for ever ; but the dauphin and the states rejected the treaty, which would have totally ruined the kingdom. On this Edward once more invaded that devoted country, assembled an army of 100,000 men, with which he over- ran Picardy and Ch'Umpagne, besieged Eheims, but without success, advanced into Burgundy, and pillaged Tonnerre, GaiUon, and Avalon, marched into the Nivernois, and laid waste Brie and the Gatinois, and sat down before Paris, where, not being able to draw the dauphin into a battle, he proceeded to devastate the provinces of Maine, Beauise, and the Chartraine. It is said that his desolating career was at length closed by a terrible thunderstorm by which he was overtakfn near Chartres. in which the ter- rors of heaven seemed to his awe-struck miagination to be arrayed against him. "Looking towards the church of Notre Dame, at Chartres," says Froissart, " he made a vow to grant peace, which he afterwards humbly repeated in confession in the cathedral of Chartres, and thus took up his lodging in the village of Britigni, near that city." Here the peace was concluded ; and on these conditions : that the King of France should pay thi-ee naillions of gold crowns for his ransom — about a million and a half of oui- money ; that he should yield up to Edward in full sovereigntj', the province of Gascony and other de- pendencies in Aquitaine, and in the north of France, Calais, Guisnee, Monti-euil, and the country of Ponthieu ; and Edward, on the other hand, should renounce all other French temtorj", and aU claim to the crown and kingdom of France. The King of Navarre was to be restored to all his honours and possessions, and the alliances of Edward with the Flemings and of John with the Scots were to close. In consequence of this peace of Britigni, signed the 24th of October, 1360, John returned to France; but finding that his Government was unwilling to keep faith with England, and his son the Duke of Anjou having; broken his parole as a hostage, John, with a noble sense of honour, refused to be a party to such dishonesty, and returning voluntarily to his captivity in London, died there on the Sth of April, 1364. Charles V., the fifty-first monarch of France, succeeded his father John to a kingdom desolate but not dismem- bered. John had, indeed, added to the realm the provinces of Dauphiny and Bui'gundy ; but the latter he again dis- severed from the crown and settled on his favourite son, A.l). i'Jiio.'] EDWAED in. 397 ■<>i Combat between English and Frencli Knights in a Square at Limoges. (See page 401.'* 398 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOET OF ENGLAND. [A.u. ^365. his companion at tte battle of Poiotiers and in his cap- tivity. This unwiso act, tho result, not of prudence — in which John was singularly deficient — but of affection, became tho source of much contention and many miseries. But miseries were tho order of the day. France was overrun with them as with weeds. Charles had been early taught in the school of adversity, and he soon displayed proofs that he had profited by its lessons. He was cautious, thoughtful how to retrieve tho condition of France, and eventually won the name of tho Wise. Had his designation been the Worldly Wise it would have been still more correct, for he was not too strict in rendering the code of honour where it interfered with his plans. Ho was tho first of his race and his times who renounced the practice of heading his armies, deeming it more befitting a monarch to head his kingdom, and place at the head of his armies the ablest commanders that he could obtain, as ho would place the ablest ministers over the different departments of his Government. This very circumstance marks Charles as a sagacious prince. The practice was a step onward in governmental science. Charles deemed it necessar}' to reduce the disorders of his own kingdom before he commenced his intended opera- tions against the English. It was necessary to put down Charles of Navarre, and to settle the affairs of Brittany. To do this, he first sent the young Breton knight, Bertrand du Guesclin, destined to acquire a great i-enown in this reign, into Normandy, where the brave Captal de Buche, the hero of Poictiers, commanded the King of Navarre's forces. These two commanders met near Cocherel, where Du Guesclin turned tlio tide of war in favour of France, gaining tho first complete victory for it since the days of Cref y, and not only routed De Buche, but tj)ok him prisoner. Du Guesclin then marched into Brittany, whero Lord Chandos and Sir Hugh Calverley were in command of the English forces. Here Du Guesclin's good fortune deserted him ; he was defeated and taken prisoner. Here, also, Charles of Blois was slain, and the young De Montfort secured in his possessions. The prudence of Charles V. was now seen conspicuously ; instead of resuming the war, he acknowledged Do Montfort as rightful lord of the duchy, though a sti-ong partisan of England, admitted him to do homage for the fief, and thus bound him in a certain degree to him by kindness — a display of political philosophy too much neglected by Edward III. of Eng- land and his son the Black Prince. Finding tho estates of the crown greatly reduced by weak grants made by his father and former monarchs to the princes and nobles about them, he set himself to reclaim them, and thus restore the national finances — an undertaking which would have ruined a weak or impni- dont king. But ho prosecuted this design with such con- summate address and persuasive mildness — showing its absolute necessity if Fr.anco wore to enable herself to shake off the incubus of the English, and beginning with his own uncle, the Duke of Orleans — that he carried it through triumpliiintly. This done, he proceeded to rid the nation of tlio bands of Free Companions which preyed on the very vitals of tho kingdom. At the peace of Britigni, the disbanded soldiery of Edward, men from almost every European country, being scattered over the land, and being in possession of many of tho strongholds, refused to lay down their arms. They were accustomed to a life of tho utmost license under the English king and prince, and they determined to continue it. They asso- ciated together for mutual defence, in such combination calling themselves the " Great Companies." Both English and Gascon officers now took tho command of these free- booters, who became tho scourge of the provinces. Sir Hugh Calverley, Sir Matthew Goiu-nay, and the Chevalier Vorte, were their most distinguished leaders. These troops amounted to 40,000, and did not fear to encounter tho armies of France. They fought with them and beat them, and killed Jaques de Bourbon, a prince of the blood. The more they spoiled and ravaged, the more their numbers grew, for they were increased by those who sought for booty, and by those who were left with- out any other resource. People flocked to them precisely as they did in ancient times to David, in the cave of Adullam: "Every one that was in distress, and every one that was in debt, and every one that was discon- tented, gathered themselve" unto him." The Pope ex- communicated them ; hut though that ban, so awful in that age, alarmed, it did not disperse them. Charles at fir.st complained to Edwa.rd warmly that his forces were not disbanded according to tho treaty, and called upon him to see them dispersed ; but when Edw.ard, finding proclamations for the purpose unheeded, declared that he would himself march against them, Charles took alarm at the prospect of seeing an English army again on the soil of Franco, and hastened to request him to spare himself that trouble — he would deal with them in his own y/ay. His mode of ridding himself of them was worthy of his enlightened mind. He used all his persuasions to engage them in foreign wars. He I'epresented to them what a rich field the wars of Italy presented to them ; and a large body, under one Hawkwood, an Englishman, pro- ceeded thither, and won great wealth and distinction. Fortune favoured the plans of tho king, and opened a still wider field of action for the troublesome Free Com- panions. Pedro, the King of Castile, at that time was ono of the most bloody monsters who ever disgraced a throne. He indulged his savage disposition by tho murder of his own near relations and the nobles about the court. He had put to death several of his natuj-al brothers for fear of their conspiring against him. The murder of one noble led him to that of others, whom ho dreaded might attempt retaliation. His court was become a perfect hell of blood and terror, and that terror alone prevented his dethrone- ment. But, instigated by Mary de Padilia, his mistress, he poisoned his wife, the sister of tho queen of Charles of Franco. At this, Enrique, Count of Transtamara, and Telle, Count of Biscay, his natural brothers, who had taken arms against him in vain, fled to tho court of Franco, and implored Charles to avenge the sister of his qticon, and rid the country of this modern Nero. Charles embraced tho proposal as the evident beckon- ing hand of a good Providence. Ho procured tho liberty of Du Guesclin, who was still a prisoner to Lord Chandos, set him to bring over the chiefs of the Companions, and take command under him for a feigned expedition ag.ainst the Moors in Spain, which was regarded as a crusade against the infidels. The Pope, who had his cause of quarrel with the monster Pedro, gave his blessing to tho scheme, and Du Guesclin speedily found himself at the . A.D. 13G7.1 EE-ESTABLISH!JENT OF DON PEDRO. 399 head of 30,000 of these desperadoes. The King of France gavo thom 200,000 francs ; and, assembling at Chalons, on the river Marne, thoy marched towards Avignon. The Pope, who then resided there, alarmed at the approach of such a force, sent a cardinal to learn their object in coming that way. Du Guesclin answered that as they were bound on a crusade against the enemies of the Church, they sought the Pope's blessing, and the small sum of 200,000 florins to help them on their way. His holiness readily promised the blessing and absolution of all their sins — an awful score ! But Du Guesclin replied that his followers were of that description that thoy would, if necessary, dispense with the absolution, but not with the money. The Pope then proposed to levy the sum of 100,000 florins on the inhabitants, but Du Guesclin said thoy were not come to oppress the innocent people, but would expect the money out of the Pope's own cofi'ers. His holiness thought it well to comply with a request backed by such arguments as 30,000 notorious banditti, and the bold beggars marched on. Thoy very soon drove the tyrant from his throne and kingdom, who fled, with his two daughters, into Guionne, and put himself under the protection of the Black Prince. In all the wars of Edward III. against Scotland and Franco, he had shown an utter disregard of right ; and in this respect he was fully seconded by the Black Prince ; but of all their undertakings there was none so flagrantly outraging every principle of justice, humanity, and chi- valry as their abetting this demon in human shape, Don Pedro of Castile. Ilere was a man steeped in the blood of his own family and of his own wife ; who had op- pressed and plundered his subjects till they hated him with a mortal hatred, and had joined in chasing him from the country. Edward, as a professed champion of chivalry, was bound to defend and redress the grievances of ladies ; yet here did he at once undertake to restore the murderer of his wife to his ensanguined throne, and to force him again on a people whom he had driven to desperation by his ferocious tyrannies. It has been attempted to vindicate this action by representing Don Pedro as the legitimate sovereign, whom, therefore, the prince, as an upholder of legitimate authority, was bound to support. But the fact is, that Edward and his father had all their lives been engaged in endeavouring, by all the force of their talents and the resources of their king- dom, to destroy legitimacy in the person of the King of France. It has been again urged that the King of France sanctioning the expedition to dethrone Don Pedro natu- rally aroused the rivahy of the Black Prince, who would probably, say these authors, never have succoured the infamous Pedro had not the King of France taken the other side. But the worst of it is, that the King of France was on tho right side, the just and honourable one — that of punishing a murderer of his own relative, and of assist- ing an oppressed people. The Princo of Wales was on the wrong side — the odious one of abetting as foul a monster as ever disgraced humanity ; and his proceeding was as impolitic as it was unjust, for it raised a new enemy, tho reigning King of CastUe, Don Enrique, and threw him into the alliance of France. The conduct of the Black Prince in this affair proved that, with all his personal virtues, he was destitute of that high moral sense— that perception of what is intrinsically great and noble — which stamps the true hero; and tho hand of Providence appears speedily and unequivocally to have displayed itself against him and his father, who sanc- tioned his fatal enterprise. All his wisest and most faith- ful counsellors urged him to reflect on the crimes and blood-stained character of Don Pedro ; to remember that such men were as ungrateful as thoy were base ; and also that the expedition must be attended by severe charges on the province of Gascony, already loudly complaining of its burthens. These just admonitions were aU lost on the prince. Ho assembled a force, recalling his officers from the bands of the Companions, 12,000 of whom, on learning that he was about to take the field, left Du Guesclin, headed by Sir Hugh Calverley and Sir Robert Knowles, and followed his banners, believing in the ascendancy of his fortune, and careless of every other motive. The Prince of Wales came into action with the troops of Don Enrique and Du Guesclin at Najara, routed them with a loss of 20,000 men, and easily reinstated tho tyi-ant upon the throne. But there the success of the Black Prince ceased. He could not make the monster Pedro anything but a monster; and Pedro immediately displayed his diaboli- cal disposition by proposing to the prince to murder aH their prisoners in cold blood, which tho prince indig- nantly refused. And now the punishment of tho Prince of Wales for this unhappy deed — a foul blot for over on liis brilliant escutcheon — came fast and heavily Upon him; so fast, so heavily, so palpably, that the writers of the time plainly ascribed it to the displeasure of a righteous Providence. The tyrant, once restored, gave him immediate proof of the miserable work he had done, by refusing to fulfil a single stipulation that ho had made. He left the prince's army without the pay so liberally promised, and without provisions. The prince was exposed to tho murmurs of his deluded soldiers. The heat of the cUmato and strange and unwholesome food began to sweep thom off in great numbers, whilst his own health gave way, never to be restored. Ho made his way back to Bor- deaux as well as he could, where he arrived in July, 1367, with a ruined constitution, and covered with debts, in- curred on behalf of the ungi'ateful tyrant. To discharge tho debt due to his troops, he laid a tax on hearths, not unknown in England, but new to tho Gascons, which was calculated to produce 1,200,000 francs a year. But the inhabitants resented this tax on their chimneys, or fouage, as they called it, excessively. It was the climax to a host of grievances of which they began vehemently to complain — as, of all oSices and honours being conferred on foreigners; of harsh treatment, like that of a con- quered people ; and, as tho Black Prince did not pay any attention to their complaints, the Counts of Armagnac, Comminge, Perigord, and d'Albret carried them to the King of France, as their ancient lord paramount. While tho Prince of Wales was thus about to be em- broiled with France, on account of his ill-fated restora- tion of Don Pedro, ho had the mortification to loam that that savage had only regained his throne to wreak the most diabolical cruelties on his subjects, whom ho now regarded as rebels. Du Guesclin, having obtained his ransom, once more joined Enrique de Transtamara to expel tho despot. He defended himself with desperate 400 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1369. valour, but he vfaa ovontually defeated, and blockaded in the castle of Moutiel. As ho had only about a dozen mou with him, and the castle was destitute of in-ovisions, Don Pedro attempted to steal out at night ; but he was seized by a French officer ; and such was the implacable fury of the two brothers against each other, that, as soon as Don Enrique heard of his capture, he flew to the tent whore ho was iu custody. There, after insulting and irritating each other, the two pi'oceedod to a deadly struggle, iu which Don Enrique stabbed Pedro to the heart with his dagger. Such were the fruits for which the Prince of Wales had sacrificed his honour — his life, as it proved— and the peace of his provinces. The wary Charles V. had long been eagerly watching the proceedings of the English. He had on various pretences deferred the fulfilment of the conditions of the treaty of Britigni, and now, on the plea that it was void, he summoned the Black Prince to Paris, as his vassal, to answer the complaints of his subjects. The treaty of Britigni liber.ated the English in-ovinoes from all feudal subjection, and made them independent. When the heralds conveyed the summons to the Black Prince, his ej'es flamed with indignation at this breach of faith ; he looked fiu-iously on the mes- sengers, and exclaimed, "Is it even so? Does our fair cousin desire to see us at Paris Y Gladly wUl we go thither; but I assure you, sii'S, that it shall bo v.'ith our basnets on our heads, and at the head of G0,000 men." The messengers dropped on their knees in terror, beg- ging him to remember that they only did the message of him who sent them. But the prince, deigning them no word, left them in wrath, and the courtiers ordered them to got away as fast as they could ; but the prince^ hearing of their departure, sent after them and brought them back, but did them no injury. Thus were England and France once more plunged into war through the ill-timed restoration of a base tj'rant ; with general discontent in the English provinces in the south of France, and the health of the prince fast failing. The French king had carefully calculated the declining vigour of Edward III., as well as the health of his son; and now ho advanced to war to regain the territories lie had lost; and avenge the mortal injuries which his country had suffered from the English, attended by a host of advantageous circumstances : these were, discontent in the English provinces, and disunion amongst the com- manders of the forces. On his own side he had with him the spirit and wishes of the whole country. Many of the great commanders who had assisted to win the proud laurels of Edward and the Black Prince were dead, or sunk into old age. The Free Companions, who had served under tho Black Prince, were dismissed from the want of that very pay which tho tju-ant Pedro bad refused, and wore now eagerly engaged by the French king. The feudal troops and the archery of England, tho very soul of the army, had returned home at tho end of the war, and it would now require much time and expenditure of money to collect them again. On the other hand, a new generation had sprung up in France, who had not known tho terrors of Crcfy or Poic- tiers, but only had heard of the defeat of France and the death of their fathers, and burned to avenge them. The terriblo King of England was old; his lion-hearted son was known to bo sinking into tho grave. It Boomed as if the doom of Heaven was pronounced on tho power of tho English. They had overrun and destroyed, but taken no pains to conciliato, and tho hatred which flamed in the hearts of the people was fanned and made holy by the universal voice of the clergy, producing everywhere revolt from the English, and adhesion to the French monarch. Charles had prepared for this crisis for years, husbanding his income till he was called not only the Witse, but tlie Wealthy ; and the people, now kindled with the spirit of patriotism, submitted cheerfully to new taxes for recon- quering the independence of their country, even to that same fouage which, imposed in Gasoony, had cost tho Prince of Wales his popularity : so much docs the pay- ment of a tax depend on tho person who imposes it, and the purpose for which it is demanded. Still tho Black Prince, though ill, was not cast down. Some of the Free Companions, spite of the defection of their fellows, joined him to the number of 6,000 lances, under the brave Sir Hugh Calverle)- ; and Edward III. sent from England a considerable army under the com- mand of the Earl of Cambridge, the prince's brother, and Sir John Hastings, the Earl of Pembroke, his brother-in- law. The King of France fell on the province of Ponthieu, which gave the English admittance into tho heart of France. The people everywhere received him with open arius, showing how completely all the efforts of England to conquer France had beeu thrown away. Tho citizenr of Abbeville opened theii- gates to him. Those of St, Valeri, Eue, and Orotoy followed their example, and in a very little time the whole country was regained by tho French. In Poictou the brothers of Charles, tho Dukes of Berri and Anjou, assisted by tho gallant Du Guesclin, were equally successful. Lord Audley, tho son of that Sir James Audley who distinguished himself so greatlj^ at the battle of Poictiers, who was seneschal of the province, fell sick and died in the very commencement of the war, to the extreme grief of the prince, who made the celebrated Sir John Chandos his successor. But jealousies amongst the commanders, now the Prince of Wales was unable to be at the head of his armies, produced disastrous conse- quences, and worse very soon followed in the death of the brave Chandos. That enterprising leader proposed to tho Earl of Pembroke to joirt him in an expedition against Louis de Sancorre, the Marshal of France. But Pembroke, jealous of the fame of Sir John, and instigated by his flatterers, who insinuated that with such a renowned general the earl would come off with very little of tho glory of tho undertaking, declined the proposal. Sir John Chandos, disgusted by the refusal, retired into the city of Poictiers, and dismissed such troops as were not necessary for its defence. No sooner had he done this, than tho Earl of Pembroke issued forth with 200 spears to win distinction for himself, and waste the lands of the nobles who were opposed to the Black Prince's taxation. This was good news for tho Marshal Sancerre, who had little fear when ho learned that Chandos had retired iu displeasure. He came sud- denly with an overwhelming force on Pembroke near tho village of Puyrenon, killed a considerable number of his knights, and compelled him to take refuge in an old church' 1370.1 LIMOGES T.IKEN BY THE BLACK PRINCE. 401 of tho abolislicd Knights Templars. Pembroke, now awake to his folly, dispatched a messenger to Sir John Chandos for help. The messenger did not reach Poictiers till the nest morning, when Sir John was at breakfast. On hearing Pembroke's appeal, he coolly wont to mass, glad, no doubt, to let the envious nobleman feel the effects of his foolish conduct. Meantime the battle at the church was going on vigorously, the English stoutly defending their retreat, but feeling, from the thinness of the walls and want of provisions, that they could not hold out long. Another messenger was dispatched to Sir John, accom- panied by a most earnest entreaty, and a valuable ring from the finger of the earl himself. Sir John was at dinner when the messenger arrived, describing in earnest words the imminent danger of the earl and his followers. Sir John had not yet forgiven the young nobleman. lie went on with his dinner, saying, "If it be as you say, nothing can save him." But anon, lifting up his head, he said to his knights and esquires around him, " Hear me, sirs ! the Earl of Pembroke is a noble person, and of high lineage, son-in-law to our natural lord, the King of England. Foul shame were it to see him lost, if we cau save him. I will go, by the grace of God. Make ready, sirs, for Puyrenon !" Two hundred men-at-arms mounted in haste, and, Sir John at their head, galloped off to surprise the Marshal of Sancei're while besieging Pembroke in the Temple- house. But the wary French, apprised of the approach of Sir John, speedily drew off and escaped. In December of the same year, 1370, Sir John Chandos lost his life in a confused skirmish, owing to want of proper co-operation amongst the English commanders ; and his loss was soon obvious in a greater lack of spirit and success in the English army in the south of France ; the gallant Captal de Buche, who preceded Sir John as teneschal of Guionnc, being taken prisoner, and lost to the English service. Meantime Edward III. had sent fresh forces to Calais under his son the Duke of Lancaster, commonly called John of Gaunt, in alliance with the Count of Namur. The King of France sent a still larger army to oppose the ini-oads of these forces under his brother Philip, the Duke of Burgundy, but commanded him on no account to come to a general engagement with the English, lest the fate of Creyy and Poictiers should once more overtake him. The duke posted himself between St. Omer and Tournehan, where the Duke of Lancaster came out against him, but could not induce the French to fight. The Duke of Bur- gundy, impatient of this inglorious position, desii'ed to be recalled, and the king ordered him to fall back on Paris. Then John of Gaunt advanced, pillaging and lajong waste the country in the old English manner from Calais to Bordeaux, while Sir Robert Knowles, the Free Companion leader, with an army of 30,000 men, took his way by Terouenne and through Artois, burning and destroying- all before him. He nest advanced to the very gates of Paris, up to which one of his knights rode, and struck a blow with his spear, having made a vow that he would strike his lance on the gate of Paris. The daring warrior, however, lost his life returning thi-ough the suburbs, being cut down by a gigantic butcher with his cleaver. After that Knowles mai-ched into Brittany for winter quartern. On their march that fatal disunion which now infected the English ai-my once more showed itself. Lord Grandison, Lord Fitzwalter, and other English nobles, refused to follow Knowles into Brittany. They declared that it did not become noblemen like themselves to serve under a man of mean birth, as Sir Robert Knowles was, and they drew off their forces to Anjou and Tourainc. Bertrand du Gue.sclin, now made Constable of Franco, hearing of this disunion from an English fraitor. Sir John Menstreworth, pursued Knowles to cut him off. Knowles sent infoi-mation of this pursuit to Lord Grandison and his disdainful aristocratic companions; but too late, for Du Guesclin overtook them at Pont Volant, defeated them, and slew the greater part of these proud esclusiyos. Knowles made good his retreat into Brittany, and Men- streworth the traitor, falling into the hands of the English, was put to death. About this time the Black Prince performed his last military esploit ; and it was one calculated to bcome an additional brand on his name in France. Limoges, the capital of Limousin, had been betrayed to the Dukes of Anjou and Berri by the bishop and the chief inhabitants. The prince was gi-eatly enraged, both because the bishop had been his personal friend, and because ho had conferred many privileges on the citizens. Ho was now too weak to mount a horse, but ho ordered out 1,200 lancers and 2,000 archers, and being borne in an open litter at the head of his troops, he advanced to take vengeance on Limoges. The garrison treated with scorn his summons to suiTcnder. But his sappers soon undermined the wall, though Du GuescKn did all ho could by a flying force to di'aw off his attention. Some authors say that he there used gunpowder, lately introduced, to blow up the mine, as they contend that his father used cannon in the battle of Crefy. Others say that he threw down the wall by burning the props which supported the excavation while in progress. Whatever was now the mode, ho made a breach, and his troops, rushing in, perpetrated the most ruthless and indiscriminate slaughter. The poor people, men, women, and childi-en, knelt in the streets, and threw themselves down before the prince, crying, ' ' Mercy ! mercy for God's sake!" But the inexorable prince turned a deaf ear to these moving prayers from the innocent people, who had nothing whatever to do with the sui-render of the city, and 4,000 were put to death. The only pity which he showed was to tho bishop who gave up the place, and to a knot of brave knights whom he found standing with their backs to a wall, engaged in mortal combat with his brothers the Dukes of Lancaster and Cambridge, and Pembroke, his brother-in-law. After watching theii- gal- lant defence some time in high admiration, ho consented to accept their submission, and dismissed them with praises. This extraordinary man — a striking proof how war can petrify a heart very noble by nature— could still feel de- light in the spectacle of a brave feat of arms, though his soul was become utterly callous to every sentiment of pity for his fellow-men in general. He gave up the city to be sacked, and it was bui-nt to tho ground. In the early part of tho following year he lost his eldest son, and his own health being now completely broken, he returned to England, quitting for ever, says an historian, the country where he had gained so much glory, and on which he had inflicted such extensive calamities. He left the Duke of Lancaster his lieutenant, who maintained a 402 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1376. court at Bordeaux as gay and brilliant as tlie prince him- self. At this court were residing the two daughters of the late Don Podi-o the Cruel ; and John of Gaunt, now a widower, but in the prime of his life, married Donna Con- stance, the eldest, and in her right assumed the title of King of Castile and Leon ; and his brother, the Duke of Cambridge, married at the same time the second sister. This, as we have said of the Black Prince's expedition into Castile to reinstate the tyrant Don Pedro, was a most false and calamitous policy, for it made a fu'm ally of Enrique, now reigning King of CastUe, to Charles of Erance ; and of this the effect was speedily felt. John of Gaunt went over to England to introduce his royal bride at court there; and the Earl of Pembroke going out to supply his place in June, 1372, with a fleet of forty ships, was encountered off the port of Kooholle by a powerful navy belonging to King Enrique. The battle was fiercely contested ; but the Spanish ships wore not only much larger than those of the English, but provided with cannon, now for the fii'st time employed at sea, The English wore completely defeated ; the greater part of their shijis were taken, burnt, or sunk, including one carrying the military chest, with £20,000. The Earl of Pembroke, with many other men of rank, remained prisoners. Such was the immediate effect of the English alliance with the family of such a monster as Don Pedro ; and nothing could demonstrate more strongly the degree to ■which the EngHsh had made themselves detested in France than the eagerness with which the people of Eochelle and its neighbourhood, though still English subjects, aided the Spaniards by every means in their power. This defeat and loss laid open the country to the attacks of the King of Franco, through his valiaut and wise con- stable, Du Guesclin, who took Benon, Surgere, Saint Jean d'Angely, and other towns. The Duke of Lancaster set sail from England with a fresh army, accompanied by the Earls of Suffolk, "Warwick, Stafford, and Lord Edward Spencer, to repel the French forces. But these forces, divided into three hosts, under the Dukes of Burgundy and Bourbon, and Du Guesclin, still avoided any engage- ment, but watched the English army, harassed its rear, and cut off its foraging parties everywhere. In vain the Duke of Lancaster marched from Bordeaux to Calais and back ; everywhere the enemy fled before him, and j-et everywhere ho suffered loss ; so that the king his father declared, with ii-repressible vexation, " that there never was a monarch at once so little of a soldier and who con- trived to give so much trouble." The last town pos- sessed by the English in Gascony was Thouars, then a considerable place. Tho constable invested it, and tho English lords shut up in it— the best of those whom the long series of skirmishes and sieges had left — agreed to surrender it at the next Michaelmas, if the King of Eng- land or one of his sons did not relieve them within that period. Edward, on hearing this, put to sea with a con- siderable army ; but winds and waves were steadily op- posed to him, and he was compelled to put back, and leave Thouars to its fate. The last ally of Edward, the Count de Montfort, was driven from his duchy by Du Guesclin and Oliver do Clisson, and compelled to take refuge in England. The Duke of Lancaster marched to and fro, but gained no signal advantage ; and Charles V., thinking that Edward's fortunes were too low again to reinstate the Count of Brittany, proposed to the estates of France to confiscate his territory and annex it to the French crown ; but this the nobles of Brittany opposed, and recalled John de Montfort from his exile in England. In 1374, but two years previous to the death of tho Black Prince, and three to the death of Edward himself, a truce was signed at Bruges between France and England for one year. The Pope, by his legates, who followed both armies and attended both courts, had never remitted his Christian endeavour's to put a stop to the barbarities of the war; but it was not till France had won almost all that it had lost that he could succeed. The truco was concluded, and was maintained till the death of tho King of England ; at which time all that was left of his French possessions were Bordeaux, Bayonne, a fow towns on the Dordogno, and Calais in the north. Such were the mise- rable fruits of all tho human blood and lives expended, and all the miseries inflicted in these unjust and impolitic wars of more than forty years' duration. When the Black Prince returned to England, broken down in constitution, he found things far from agreeable. Tho king was become feeble, and ruled by favourites. Great abuses had sprung up, and were carried on in the king's name. The Duke of Lancaster had created a strong party for himself, and exercised the principal power. The prince, still growing weaker, yet roused himself to restrain the domination of Lancaster, and remove from about the person of the king his creatures. The Commons, as is supposed, by direct encouragement of the prince, im- peached nearly all the ministei-s. They removed Lord Latimer from the king's council, and put him in prison. They deprived Lord Neville of the offices which he held, and arrested several farmers of the customs. They even carried their censures to the king's mistress, one Alice Pierce or Pcrrai-s. The excellent Philippa had been dead several years, and this Alice Perrars, who had been a lady of the bedchamber to the queen, had acquired the most complete influence over the old king. She was now banished from court. Such were the unhappy affau-s which clouded the last days of the celebrated Black Prince, and even tended to sow dissension between him and his father. He died on Trinity Sunday, the 8th of June, 1376, in the forty-sixth year of his age, to the immense regret of tho people, who regarded his militarj^ achievements, though of no solid advantage to the nation, with a deep national pride, and, from his opposition to corruptions at home, esteemed him as a most patriotic prince. It is clear that he must have been of a naturally noble nature, and possessed of per- sonal qualities as engaging as his courage and military genius were unrivalled; but his warlike education had blunted many of the finest feelings of the heart, and led him to become the scourge of France, and in a great measure useless to his own country. Ilis body was drawn by twelve horses from London to Canterbury, the whole coiu-t and Parliament following through the city ; and he was biuied in the cathedral, near the shrine of Thomas a Becket. After his death the Duke of Lancaster recovered his ascendancy in the state and over the king, who, grown indolent, and devoted only to the society of his artful mistress, paid little attention to state affairs. John of (LD. 1376.] EDWARD in. 403 The Death of Eaward III. (.See page iOi.j 404 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATBD HISTOEY OF ENGLAND. tA.D. 1377, Gaunt hastened to undo all that the Black Prince had effected. He caused his own steward, Sir Thomas Hun- gerford, to be made speaker of the IIousQ of Commons. lie restored his faction there, and soon had Sir Peter do la Mare, the late sjjeakcr, arrested ; and the celebrated William of Wj'keham, Bishop of Winchester, deprived of his temporalities, on charges of embezzlement which could not be proved, and dismissed from court. The duke went so far as not only to implore that the Lord Latimer, but Alice Perrars, should be freed from the censures passed upon them by the late Parliament in the name of the king, and restored to their former condition and privi- leges. The present Parliament, however, was not so Completely packed by John of Gaunt but that it possessed a spirit of opposition, which insisted that the accused should bo put upon their trial ; and the bishops demanded the same justice towards William of Wykeham, one of the greatest men of the age, the architect of Windsor Castle, the founder of Wykeham's College at Winchester, and of New College at Oxford. It is said that we owe it to the resentm.6nt of John of Gaunt against the bishops that he took up so earnestly the cause of Wycliffo, the great English reformer, and thus became a most effectual champion and guardian of the Reformation. Wycliffe, who was a parish priest at this time, living at Lutterworth, in Leicestershire, and the prebendary of Aust, in the collegiate church of West- bury, in the diocese of Worcester, had been a member of a legation sent by Edward to Pope Gregory XL, which met at Bruges ; and it is remarkable that this glimpse of the papal court is said to have had the same effect on him as the visit of Luther afterwards to Eome. He became a decided Church reformer, and holding^the theo- logical chair of Oxford, had ample opportunity of making public his ideas. His denunciations of Church abuses, and opposition to many of its doctrines, had caused him to be cited by a convocation of the clergy to appear at St. Paul's on the 3rd of February, 1377, to answer to the charges against him. Here he was attended bj' John of Gaunt and the earl marshal, Lord Percy. These noble- men and the bishops became mutually very hot on the question, and the Duke of Lancaster is reported to have threatened to drag Courtney, the Bishop of London, who presided, by the hair of the head out of the church. A riot was the consequence, the Duke of Lancaster protect- ing Wycliffe ; and the people, who were very jealous of Lancaster's overgrown power, resenting his insult to the bishop, broke both into his house and that of Lord Percy, killing Lord Percy's chaplain, and doing immense damage to the duke's palace. The two noblemen escaped across the water to Eennington, where the widow of the Black Prince, the " Fair Maid of Kent," and her son Eichard, the heir apparent, resided. The riot ran so high that the debates of Parliament were interrupted, and the mob reversed the duke's arms as a traitor. The king, completing the fiftieth year of his reigu and the sixty-fourth of his life, published a general amnesty for all minor offences; still, however, through the in- fluence of Lancaster, excluding the groat Wykeham of Winchester. He was now fast failing, and passed his time between Eltham Palace and his manor of Shene, near Eichmond. The last days of this groat monarch were like those of many others who during theii- lives ruled men with a high hand. It was desolate and deserted. The great nobles and courtiers were looking out for the rising sun, and paying it their assiduous adoration. By some this was held to bo the Duke of Lancaster, against whoso designs on the throne the people had culled on the king, before the death of the Black Prince, to guard ; and he had named his grandson Eichard, then not six years old, his successor. By others Eichard was deemed the true fountain of future favour, and all deserted the dying king, except his deeply-interested mistress, who, after se- curing everything else of value that she could, drew the diamond ring from the finger of the dying monarch, and — departed. The servants had gone before to plunder the house, and only a solitary, faithful priest, preferring his duty to the things of this world, hastened to the bedside of the departing monarch, held aloft his crucitix, and re- mained in that position till the once mighty king had breathed his last. Englishmen look with pride to the reign of Edward III. , as one of those which stamped the martial ascendancy of theu- race ; and unquestionably it is an era of great mili- tary glory. But, beyond the glory, what was the genuine advantage won by Edward III. and his heroic son ? Neither in France nor Scotland, the scenes of his feats of arms, did he retain a foot of the land which he conquered, except Calais and its little circle of environs. In fact, in France he had lost much territory which ho inherited. Of all the time — a great and invaluable lifetime — spent, of all the human Lives destroyed, and the taxes wrung fi'om his people, consumed, there remained no fruits but the little district of Calais, destined to furnish fresh cause of feud, and a heritage of eternal hate towards this coun- try in France. Truly, we cannot wonder at the hereditary repugnance of Frenchmen towards the English, were this only grounded on tho wars of this and succeeding reigns, in which wo marched our armies like destroying demons time after time over the whole country, burning towns and villages, laying waste the country, plundering and murdering, as if the object were not conquest but exter- mination. With us the name of Dane has come down as a fierce and sanguinary savage — the scourge of our ances- tors ; to the French the English of these ages must stand in their history in the same characters of savagerj' and wanton cruelty. As wo have said, nothing could bo so insane as this wholesale carnage and ruin inflicted on the French and Scotch if conquest were the object. But the ideas so plain and prominent to us do not seem to have entered the conception of men of those times, that to win a land you must win the people, and to win a people you must conciliate them ; offering them even greater advan- tages than they possess under the dynasty you would displace, and releasing them from old oppressions. None of these things revealed themselves to the warriors of those feudal ages. Indeed, tho true and sound policy of the Edwards was to annex Scotland, combining tho island into one noble kingdom ; and to have achieved this they should, of all things, have kept their attention and their rcEOurcos undivided, and have made the name of England an attraction to their northern brethren, not a horror. But, so far as Edward III.'s foreign expeditions led abroad his great and fictions nobles, they ensured a long and .settled quiet at home. That quiet, it is true, was not free from oppressions and from great plunderings of A.D. 1377.] REFLECTIONS ON THE EEIGN OF EDWARD HI. 405 tlio pcoplo by tho practice of purveyance. Edward ruled with a liigh hand, and kept both his nobles and people in c-ubjectiou ; but tho exactions ot tho crown woro, at their worst, far moro tolorablo than those of a crowd of barons and their vassals, and tho horrors which civil dissensions inflicted on tho people. With all the drain of men and barones minores, or lesser nobility, to tho wars, there were constant complaints of robberies, murders, and other out- rages committed under protection of tlie great; but in no dogreo so extensive as at times when tho restless and quarrelsome nobles were all at home. Tho king, too, driven to straits by tho constant want of money for his wars, always made very free in levying taxes without consent of Parliament, and in procur-ing provisions by what was styled purveyance. When the king had no money his family must subsist, and therofuro ho was obliged to send outlhis servants as purveyors, who seized provisions wherever they could tiud them, and gave tallies or wooden memorandums of what thoy took, at what rate they pleased ; the price to bo obtained as best it might, or stopped in the next taxes. But for all these tilings the king was called to account on each iresk application to Parliament for suiiplies. By this means the Parliament during his reign acquii'ed a great amount of influence, as it had done tmder Edward I. from tho same cause, and began to feel its power; so that, as we have seen, the king was obliged to renew tho Great Charter fifteen times during his reign. So, also, we see in the last years of his reign tho Parliament impeached his ministers, and drove Lord Neville and Lord Latimer from his service. The power of the barons was thus con- siderably depressed; and at tho same time that of tho crown was restrained, and by nothing more than by a statute passed in the twenty-fifth year of Edward's reign, limiting the charge of high treason — before very loose and expandable, at the royal pleasure — to three principal heads ; namely, conspiring the death of the king, levying war against him, and making alliance with his enemies ; and even on these grounds no penalty was to be inflicted without the sanction of Parliament. Trade in this reign was at a low ebb, the natm-al result of war ; yet Edward made efforts to introduce woollen manufactures, having observed their value amongst the Flemings, at tho same time that he injured commerce by seizing so many of its ships to convey his troops and stores. Altogether, it was a reign during which, owing lo the necessities of the king and the nobles, tho people were slowly advancing, and in which they were con- siderably relieved from the encroachments and exactions of tho church by the firm conduct of the king. lie passed tho statute of previsors, making it penal for bishops or clergy to receive investment from Rome, and menacing with outlawry any who appealed to Rome against judg- ments passed here. Parliament, encouraged by this, wont farther, declaring that tho Popo levied five times moro taxes in England than tho king ; adding, that they would no longer endure it, and even plainly talk- ing of thv.:wing off all papal authority. In fact, in this reign really commenced the Reformation. Altogether, therefore, tho reign of ]']dward III. is as remarkable for the growth of popular power as for that of military fame. Edward had a largo family by his queen I'liilippa — namely, five sons and four daughters, who grew up. Besides tho Black Princo and John of Gaunt, so well known to histoiy, thcro was Lionel, Duke of Clarence, tho second sou, who left ono daughter, married to Ed- mund Mortimer, IC^rl of M.irche, the son of the notorious Mortimer of the last reign. lie married, as second wife, a daughter of the Duko of Milan, and died in Italy. Ilo is said to have greatly resembled his father and tho Black Prince in his character. The fourth son was Edmund, Eavl of Cambridge, afterwards created Duke of York by Richard II. ; and tho fifth was Thomas, Earl of Buck- ingham, also created by Richard II. Duke of Gloucester. In this reign tho titlo of duke was firet adopted from France. The daughters of Edward were Isabella, Joan, Mary, and Margaret; of whom Joan died unmarried, though affianced to Alphouso, King of Castile ; Mary was married to John do Moutfort, Duko of Brittany ; and Mai-garet to John Hastings, Earl of Pembroke, so conspicuous in the wars of Franco. Tho ond of three of the most remarkable characters who figured in France during the campaigns there of Ed- ward III. — two of them his most successful opponents, and one occasionally his ally — ought to be noticed in tho his- tory of this reign, though they survived Edward a little, and a very little, for they had all passed awaj' within three years of his decease. Tho first was the constable Du Guoselin, who had raised himself from a small beginning to becomo tho most celebrated man of Franco, and almost of his age. No man of those times, indeed, bore a higher character for valour, ability as a general, probity, and honour', lie had the failing of his ago, and sometimes gave way to the perpetration of severe deeds ; but, on tho whole, ho was a fine specimen of the feudal knight. No man rendered more solid services to his country, and he con- tinued labouring for it to tho last, and died in arms. Ho was laying siege to the fortress of Raudun, and was so ill, that when tho commandant declared that ho would only deliver the keys into the hands of Du Guesclin, ho sent him word that he must, then, bring them to him, and make haste, or it would be too late. When the com- mandant arrived he was dead, and he laid his keys at tho feet of tho deceased hero, who had departed in the very act of completing the re-conquest of the alienated lands of Franco. ^^ery different was the end of Charles, King of Navarro — Charles, emphatically the Bad, tho demon and evil genius of France. Wo have seen something of his wicked career — his conspii-aoies against tho King of France, his alliance with his enemies the English, his continual designs on tho crown of France, his pretended democracy and advocacy of a republic. Ho went still further, and was aocasod by Charles V. of having given him a dose of poison so strong that it caused him to lose his nails and his hair, and to feel the olTects to the day of his death, which it was said to have hastened. He was deprived by the estates of tho kingdom of all his possessions in France. Still ho retained his kingdom of Navarre ; but his continual intrigues against tho crown, and his cri- minal life as a man, involved him in difficulties; ho therefore laid on taxes so heavy that at length his subjects declared they could not pay them. To compel them, ho caused the deputies from tho different bodies and towua 406 CASSELL'S ILLITSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1377 of Navarre to bo enclosed in a high walled garden. Here he tried to reason them into obedience, and that failing, to terrify them into it, he kept them shut up there, with only food and drink enough simply to retain them alive. This not succeeding, ho had the heads of three of their leaders struck off, with a promise of a continuation of the process. But the measure of his crimes was complete. He was now sixty years of age, and a mass of disease, from the viciousness of his habits. To maintain his warmth, his physician ordered him to be swathed in linen steeped in spirits of wine, and his bed to be warmed by a pan of hot coals. He had enjoyed the benefit of this singular pro- scription some time in safety, but now, as he was per- petrating his barbarities on the representatives of his kingdom, " by the pleasure of God, or of the devil," says Froissart, " the fire caught to his sheets, and from that to his person, swathed as it was in matter highly inflam- brought up as the heir- apparent by his mother, Joan of Kent, and his uncles, in the most luxurious indulgence, and in the most extravagant ideas of his royal rank. This was a fatal commencement for the reign of a boy, and it was made still more so by the extreme popularity of his father, whose memory was idolised both as the most renowned warrior of his time, and, perhaps, of all English history to that period, and as the advocate of the people against the stern measures of Edward III. All these things combined to spoil a naturally good and affec- tionate disposition. Richard ascended the throne on the 22nd of June, 1377, his grandfather having died the day before. While the old king still lay on his death-bed, a deputation of the citizens of London had waited on the juvenile prince ' at Shene, where he was living, and offered him their lives | and fortunes. They entreated him to come and take up \ his residence in the Tower amongst thom. Richard gave ' Great Seal of Richard TI. mable." Ho was fearfully burnt, but lingered nearly a fortnight in the most terrible agonies. Such was the end of this wicked man, as terrible as his life had been mis- chievous. Charles V. did not long survive this troubler of his peace, dying in September, 1380, and leaving a very different character, having regained to his country by his wise policy all that his predecessors Philip and John had lost at Cre^y and Poictiers. CHAPTER LXVI. Eeign of Richard II. — His oarly Education — The Government during hJQ Minority — Invasion of the French — John Phillpot, Alderman of London, captures the Spanish Fleet — The Insurrection of Wat Tyler — Discontent of both People and Aristocracy — Invasion of Scotland — Intrigues of the Duite of Gloucester — Expulsion of the King's Ministers, and Execution of his Favourites — Preaching of WycUffe— Death of the Queea— Expedition to Ireland. PiicnARD II. was not eleven years of ago at the time of his grandfather's death. Ho was the sole surviving son of the popular Black Prince, his elder brother having died before his father left Guienne. Richard, therefore — called Richard of Bordeaux, from being born there — was a gracious reply in assent, and the next afternoon made his entrance into the capital. Nothing could exceed the enthusiasm with which he was received by the Londoners. They had erected triumphal arches ; the conduits ran with wine, and a variety of pageants were displayed. One of these is thus described by Walsingham : — In Cheapsido was erected a building in the form of a castle, out of which ran two streams of wine. On its four turrets stood four girls dressed in white, and of about the age of the king. As he approached, they blew towards him small shreds of gold loaf — a favourite fancy at the time, repeated afterwards to the young queen, on her arrival from Ger- many. They showered upon him flowers made of gilt paper, and then, coming down, filled cups with wine from tho fountain, and presented them to him and his attend- ants. Then flew down aii angel from the summit of tho castle and offered to the king a gold crown. Every street exhibited some pageant or device, but the merchants of Cheapsido obtained the palm for their superior ingenuity. The great seal was delivered to tho king ; but, as the Bishop of Ely, tho chancellor, was absent beyond sea on public affairs, Richard returned the seal, enclosed in a. A.D. laTT.] CORONATIOxV OF EICHAED II. •107 purse containing, also, various letters patent, to Sir Nicholas Bondo, by kim to b'o kept till tho chancellor's arrival. Throe weeks were spent in performing tho obsequies of the late king, and in preparing for the coronation of tho present. This took placo on the IGth of July. On that day Richard rose at an early hour, and attended matins and mass in his private chapel in Westminster. The pro- cession assembled in tho great hall, tho passage from ■which to the abbey church had been carjietod with scarlet cloth. Tho prelates, abbots, and clergy led tlio way, fol- lowed bj" tho officers of state, and last came tho king, a canopy of sky-blue sUk, supported on spears of silver, being borne above him by the barons of the Cinque Ports. While tho litany was chanted the young priuco lay pros- trate before the altar, whence ho was conducted to his throne, raised on a platfomi in the middle of the nave. When he had taken tho customary oath, tho archbishop, accompanied by the marshals, explained to tho people the obligations of his oath, and inquired whether they wore willing to have Eichard for their king. Tho reply was a loud and universal acclamation ; whereupon ho was anointed, crowned, and invested witli all the insignia of royalty. To this followed a solemn uaass, and at the offertory he descended and presented on the altar bread, wine, and a mark of gold ; after which he returned to his throne and received the homaga of his royal uncles, his earls and barons. Sir John Dymoko attended as champion with his two esquires, .and tho lord steward, the constable, and marshal rode up and down the hall on their chargers to maintain order. By all this weight of ceremony tho poor youth was completely exhausted, and had to bo borne in a litter to his own apartment. This to a speculative mind might have presented an omen, too truly realised, that he would not possess vigour to bear him to tho end of his natural term of sovereignty. After he was sufflcientlj' restored, he again returned to tho great hall, where he created four eax'ls and nine knights, and then partook of a sumptuous banquet, which was again followed by a ball, minstrelsy, and tho usual boisterous festivities of the age. Everything, in fact, was done which could tend to in- spire the boy-king with an idea of that absolute greatness which had been already sufficiently instilled iiito his mind from very infancy by his mother, his uncles, and his courtiers. For such things kings afterwards pay a suit- able compensation. The same ideas, tho same accomplish- ments, the same spirit of despotism were afterwards imprinted on the nascent mind of Charles I., and with tho same results. Never before had such base laudation, such creeping prostrations, been practised in this country. Both courtiers and dignitaries of the church used the same language of grovelling sycophancy towards the un • suspecting youth ; and little could he dream that, while they were lauding' his wisdom and royal virtues, they were preparing for him the execrations of his people and the loss of his throne and life. It has been justly said that for much of what came afterwards to pass these vilo flatterers were really answerable. While, therefore, pass- ing judgment on the follies and tho crimes of kings, we should never forget that they havo boon made what they are by the mercenary courtiera who perpetually throng about thrones. At this moment the youthful Eichard was tho idol of every class in tho nation ; tho beauty of his person and tho memory of his father surrounding liim with a halo of popular favour, through which tho gloom of after years could make no way. Tho day after the coronation the prelates and barons met in council to arrange tho form of government durin" tho king's minority. They avoided appointing a regency, as is supposed, that they might not have to elect tho Duke of Lancaster, tho celebrated John of Gaunt, tho king's uncle, who had long been suspected of aspiring to the crown. They therefore chose nine councillors, consisting of three bishops, two earls, two baronets, and two knights, to assist tho chancellor and tho treasurer. Not one of the king's vmcles was included, not oven the Earl of Cam- bridge, afterwards made Duke of York, who was indolent and of slight capacity, and therefore not much to bo feared; nor tho Earl of Buckingham, afterwards Duke of Gloucester, who was bold and turbulent, but much more popular than either of his brothers. Contrary to general expectation, Lancaster appeared to acquiesce in the ar- rangement without a murmur, and retired with all his attendants to his castlo of Kenilworth, as if about to devote himself to tho pursuits of private life. But he had taken care to secure tho appointment of some of his stanch cavaliers in the council, and, in reality, ho and his brothers were the real ruling powers in tho state. Amongst the loading members of the council wore the Bishops of London, Carlisle, and Salisbury, tho Earls of March and Stafford, Sir Eichard Devoreux, and Sir Hugh Segrave. Tho Commons had acquired now so much consideration and boldness, that they petitioned the king on this occa- sion to be admitted to assist tho barons in nominating the royal council during tho minority ; which, though it was not complied with, received a civil answer. They, more- over, represented the necessity of their being summoned every year, as entitled by the law of Edward III., and before tliej' dissolved they appointed two citizens as traa. surers to receive and disburse the moneys granted bj- tUoin to the crown. These treasurers were John Phillpot and William Walworth, citizens of London. Tho Commons did not conceal their suspicions of tho Duko of Lancaster. They uttered very plain language regarding him, and this language did not fail to rouso his ire. When the Ai'chbishop of Canterbury recommended Eichard to tho affections of his people, and caUed on Par- liament to assist in advising how the enemies of the realm might best bo opposed, the Commons replied that they could not themselves venture to answer so important a question, but begged to have the aid of twelve peers, naming the Duke of Lancaster expressly as " my lord of Spain." The moment that tho king had assented to this ho : arose, bent Ms knee to tho king, and said, with much I anger, that the Commons had no claim to advice from him. I Thoy had charged him with nothing short of treason — ho, the son of a king, and one of tho first lords of tha . realm ; a man of a family not only closely allied to the throno, bat noted for its faith and loyalty ; that it would bo marvellous indeed if he, with more than any other subject in tho kingdom to lose, should ba found a traitor. Ho resented the imputation indignantly ; called on his accusers to etand forth, and declared that he would meet 408 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTOEY OP ENGLAND. [a.d. 1380. them like the poorest knight, either in single combat, or any other way that the king might appoint. This extraordinary demonstration created a great sensa- tion. The lords and prelates crowded round him, en- treating him to be pacified, "for no mortal being could give credit to such imputations." The Commons pointed to the fact that they had named Lancaster as their prin- cipal adviser, and finally the duke allowed himself to be appeased. But it was clear that the Commons were very liciting causes in the king's coui'ts for hire and reward and for having procured from the late king the revocation of the appointment of Sii- Nicholas Dagworth to an office in Leland, and a full pardon of Eichard Lyons, who had been convicted by the Commons of various misdemeanors. The beautiful, clever, and unscrupulous Alice was now finally banished, with forfeiture of all her lands, tene" ments, goods, and chattels. The enemies more immediately in view when the Par- Richard II. From the Ori<,aual Painting in the Jerusalem Chamber of the Deanery, Westminster, strong against him. The majority consisted of the very men who had been opposed to him in 1376; and their speaker was Sir Peter do la Mare, the man whom he had imprisoned for his activity en that occasion. Another blow aimed at the aspiring duke was through his patronage of the late king's mistress, the notorious Alice Perrars. Lancaster had procured her return from banishment, and protected her. But he was now fain to abandon her, seeing this stormy state of the political atmosphere; and consented even to sit on a committee of the house, with four other peers, to try her for so- liament was summoned were the French and Spaniart^s. Taking advantage of the reign of a minor, the French refused to renew the truce which had expired before tho death of the late king ; they di-ew close their alliance with Enrique de Transtamara, who resented the assumption of the title of King of Castile by tho Duke of Lancaster. They united their fleets and ravaged tho English coasts. Eichard only ascended the throne in June, and in August the whole of the Isle of Wight was in the possession of these foreigners, with the exception of Carisbrook Castle. They laid waste the island, burnt the towns of Hastings A.I). 13S0.] BICIIAED II. 400 Tlic WirUnv of t.tio Black I'riiico appealing pealing to Wat Tyler f..r I'loleoticu from the ilob. (Seo r.~:'e --l^'^ 35 410 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1380. and Eye, and attacked Southampton and Winclielsea. Winchelsea made a successful resistance, and the Earl of Arundel, falling on the combined fleet before Southampton, repulsed it with great loss. But marauders of other nations flocked to the fleets of the French and Spaniards, and committed great devastation both on our- ships at sea and on our coasts. The maritime districts of Kent and Sussex suffered severely, and a fleet even ascended the Thames and biu-nt the greater part of Gravesend. To check these several inroads Parliament granted sup- plies, which, however, fi'om the empty condition of tho treasury, were obliged to bo borrowed in advance from the merchants. With these funds a fleet was raised and put under the command of the Duke of Lancaster, who passed over to Brittany, besieged the town of St. Male, where he lay for some weeks, and then retui-ned to Eng- land without effecting anything, to the grievous disap- pointment of the people. Meantime the Scots, instigated by the French, broke the tnice, and attacked the castle of Berwick, which they took. They burned Eoxbui-gh, and made incursions into the northern counties. Being repulsed, and Berwick retaken by the Earl of Northum- berland, they united with the French and Spaniards at sea, and under one John Mercer they swept the German Ocean, and seized aU the ships in the port of Scarborough. These tidings produced great alarm and indignation in London, and John Phillpot, the stout alderman lately appointed one of the treasurers for the Commons, seeing that nothing was done by the Government eflectualiy to check these marauders, fitted out a small fleet at his own expense, put to sea without waiting for any commission from the authorities, and coming up with the united fleet, gave battle, and after a desperate conflict succeeded in capturing sixteen Spanish ships, with all the vessels car- ried off from Scarborough, and John Mercer himself. Eeturning triumphantly to London after this most bril- liant achievement, he was received, as he deserved, with enthusiastic acclamation by his fellow-citizens, but was severely reprimanded by the royal council for having dared to make war without regal permission. So ofiensive was it to the routine of that day that a man without orders should save his country. Nothing having been done by the regularly appointed commanders except the usual feat of spending the money, a new Parliament was summoned. This met at Gloucester on the 20th of October, 1378. The Commons objected to a new subsidy, as well they might, seeing that it had produced no advantage; but being answered by Sir Eichard Scrope, the steward of the household, that it was Hidispensable, they insisted on permission to examine the accounts of the treasurers, which was granted under pro- le st that it was not by right but by favour-, and should not be drawn into a precedent. They next requested to be furnished with a copy of the enrolment of the tenths and fifteenths which they had last granted, to learn how they had been raised, which, as money was wanted, was also conceded under protest. Finally, they pi-oposed that six peers and prelates should come to their chamber to consult with thom on these matters — an evidence that •■he Lords and Commons now regularly occupied separate _ juses. This was declined by the great men of tho upper Il^^ise, who, however, professed their readiness to meet, hp committee, with a committee of the Commons. The Commons having obtained the necessary accounts and documents, went leisurely and deliberately to work • and though the impatient Government repeatedly urged them to dispatch, they still proceeded with all sedateness and care, showing that the popular body was growing sensible of its real powers. Having discovered that the whole of the supplies had been duly but abortively spent, they granted a fresh impost on wool, wool-fels, and skins, for the pressing services of the state. Another army was raised, and placed under the com- mand of the Earl of Buckingham. He passed over to Calais, whence in the summer of 1380 he marched, with 2,000 cavalry and 8,000 infantry, thi'ough the very heart of France, pursuing the old accustomed ravages, thi-ough Pioardy, Campagae, the Brie, the Beausse, the Gatinois, the Orleanois, and on to Brittany. The Duke of Burgundy, with a far greater army, hovered in tho vicinity of this handful of men ; but, remembering the past result of con- flict with small armies of the English, he kept aloof. By the time that Buckingham reached Brittany, Charles V. died, and Charles VI., a minor, like the King of Eng- land, succeeded in the autumn of that year. The Bretons, now thinking that, a mere boy being on the throne of France, they could protect themselves, grew impatient of the burdensome presence of the English. De Montfort, who had received much kindness and refuge in England, was averse to treat with ingratitude his old allies; but the people accused the English of rapacity and haughtiness — and no doubt with cause enough, if we are to judge by the general proceedings of the English in France — and would not cease their demands till the count had trans- ferred his alliance to the regency which governed France during the minority. This accomplished, the people ex- pressed every impatience to be rid of Buckingham and his ajsmy, and as soon as the following spring allowed of his embarking, he took his leave, having only escaped the hostility of the natives by the bravery of his troops and the supplies of provisions from home. The English re- turned home denouncing bitterly the ingratitude of the Bretons ; and this was the unsatisfactory termination of the long and expensive exertions to maintain the inde- pendence of Brittany. The only possession which we retained in that province was the port of Brest, which Eichard had received from De Montfort in exchange for an equivalent estate in England. Calais and Cherboui-g — obtained from the Iving of Navarre — Bordeaux, and Bayoune were still towns in the hands of the English, afi'ordiug tempting avenues in every quarter into France, and incitements to future expeditions. But at this moment events were approaching which demanded all the efforts of the Government to maintain domestic order. In various countries of Europe the ad- vance of society, and, though slow, of trade and manu- factures, had begun to produce its certain effect upon the people. They no sooner ate of the tree of knowledge than they perceived that they were naked — naked of liberty, and property, and every solid comfort. They were in a gi'eat measure serfs and bondsmen, transmitted with the estates from proprietor to proprietor, like the chattels and the live stock. The haughty aristocracy looked upon them as little better than the beasts; and, addicted to continual wars with each other or with foreign countries, made use of the miserable people only as sol- 13SU.] JOHN BALL, OP KENT. ■4U diers for those wars, or as slaves to cultivate their lands. Tlie wretched sufferers were ground by domestic exactions, and pillaged and burnt out continually in some of the countries by invading armies. Nothing could be more terrible than their condition ; and when they began to perceive all its horrors, and to endeavour to riso above them, theii' imperious masters trod them down again with harsh and often terrible ferocity. But wherever towns grew and trade sprang up, there numbers became, by one means or other, free. In England every man who could contrive to live a year and a day in any town became a free man. The very wars which had desolated Eui-ope had tended to awaken a spirit of in- dependence ; the soldiers who served in different countries picked up intelligence by comparing various conditions of men. The constant demands of Government for money inspired those who had to fui'nish it with a sense of their own importance. The example of the freedom and superior comfort in towns stimulated the inhabitants of the country to grasp at equal benefits. Flanders, as the earliest manufacturing and trading country, had, as we have seen, speedily become demo- cratic ; had expelled its ruler, and had now maintained a long career of independence. At this moment it was waging a most sanguinary and deteimined war, not only against its own earl, but against the whole forces of Bur- gundy and France, led by Philip van Aitavelde — the son of Jacob, the stout old brewer of Ghent — and by a relent- less citizen, Peter Dubois. Once more in France insui-rection had broken out, headed by the burghers and people of the towns, excited against the tax-gatherers, and had spread from Eouen to Paris, where it was raging. And now the same convul- sion, originating in the same causes, had reached Eng- land ; and simultaneously in Flanders, France, and this country, the people were in arms against their Govern- ment and nobles. It has been supposed that the preaching of WyclifTe had no little effect in rousing this stonn in England, and there can be no doubt of it. The people, once made ac- quainted with the doctrines of human right, justice, and liberty abounding in the Bible, and pervading it as its very essence, could only regard the knowledge as a direct call from God to rise, rend the bondage of their cruel slavery, and assume the rank of men. This light, this wonderful knowledge, coming too suddenly upon them, made them, as it were, intoxicated, and overthrew all restraint and tranquillity of mind. They felt theii- wrongs the more acutely by perceiving theii- rights, and how basely they had been deprived of them by men professing this religion of truth, justice, and humanity. Such was the case on the preaching of Luther in Germany after- wards, and it was the case here now. Occasionally a nobleman had suddenly emancipated the whole of the villeins on his domain in return for a fixed rent to be paid by them ; but this process was slow and uncertain, and extremely exciting to those who witnessed this emancipation, remaining themselves in bondage. Thus all classes of the people were in a restless state. The freemen just above these serfs, and especially those on the coast, who had been plundered and burnt out by the enemy, were full of bitterness from their sufferings, and disposed to regard the tax-gatherer as little short of a demon. Few, except the working order of the clergj', who lived and laboured amongst them, treated them liko human beings. Imagine, then, this state of things, and a priest like John Ball of Kent coming amongst them on Sundays as they issued out of church in the villages, and saying to them, as Froissart thus reports him: "Ah, ye good people, matters go not well to pass in England, nor shall do, till everything be common, and that there bo no villeins nor gentlemen, but that wo be all united together, and that the lords be no greater masters than we. What have wo deserved, or why should wo bo kept thus in bondage? We all come from one father and mother, Adam and Eve. Whereby can they show that they are greater lords than we be 'i saving by that they cause us to win and labour for that they dispend. They are clothed in velvet and camlet, furred with ermine, and we are vestured with poor cloth. They have their wines, spices, and good bread, and we have the drawing out of the chaff, and diink water. They dwell in fair houses, and we have the pain and travel, rain and wind in the fields; and by that which cometh of our labours they keep and maintain their estates. We be called their bondmen, and without we do willingly their service wo be beaten ; and we have no sovereign to whom we can complain, nor that will hear us, nor do us right. Let us go to the king — he is young — and show him what bondage we be in, and show him how we will have it otherwise, or else we will provide us of some remedy ; and if wo go together, all manner of people who be now in any bondage will follow us, to the intent to be made free ; and when the king seeth us we shall have some remedy, either by fairness or otherwise." This honest John Ball, having got this great gospel of freedom into his head, could not be prevailed on to bo quiet. The archbishop shut him up for some months in prison, but on coming out he went about saying the vciy same things. "And these people," says Froissart, ' ' of whom there be more in England than in any other realm, loved John Ball, and said that he said truth." " They wouldo murmur one with another in the fioldes, and in the wayes as they went togyder, affermyng how Johan Ball sayd trouthe." In the beginning of the world, they said, there were no bondmen, wherefore they maintained none ought to bo bound, without he did treason to his lord as Lucifer did to God. But they said they could have no such battle, because " they were nether angellcs nor spirittes," but men formed in the similitudes of their lords ; addli.fe-, Why, then, should we be kept under so like boasts? And they declared they would no longer sufl'er it ; they would be all one, and if they laboured for their lords, they would have wages for it. This was all only too true ; but a truth coming too sud- denly, and more than they could boar, or were disciplined . to win, or, if won all at once, to maintain. And these poor people did not know that even now there was grow- ing up that power amongst the people, in the shape of Parliament, which should gradually and securely tight their battles, and establish all their desires. Even now the Commons had reached the presence of the king and the nobles, and stood there boldly declaring their rights, and putting an ever-growing restraint on regal and aiistocratic license. 412 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1381. In the Parliament which, met in January, 1380, the Commons complained loudly of the extravagance of the expenditm-e. They demanded that the king's council should be dismissed; that the king should govern only by the aid of the usual crown officers — the chancellor, treasurer, privy seal, chamberlain, and steward of the household ; and that these ministers should be chosen by Parliament. These unexampled demands were aU granted : a committee of finance was appointed, to consist of Lords and Commons ; and such a concession as had never yet been made was granted, and three representatives of cities — two aldermen of London and one of York — were put upon it. In the autumn, being informed that the subsidies which they voted were inadequate to defray the debts of the State, they pronounced the demand "out- rageous and insupportable." This was bold language ; the result was, of the many schemes to meet the difficulty, the fatal cajiitation tax, which threw the country into a general convulsion. This was a tax of three groats per head on every male and female above fifteen years of age. In towns it was to be regulated by the rank and ability of the inhabitants, in order to render it easier to the poor, so that no person should pay less than one groat, nor more than sixty, for himself and wife. This poU-tax was the drop to the full cup. The people were already writhing under the continued exactions for the French wars, and this tax drove them to desperation. What added gall to its bitterness was that it was farmed out to some of the coui-tiers, who again farmed it out to foreign merchants, whose collectors proceeded with a degree of harshness and insolence which irritated the people beyond endurance. It was soon discovered that the amounts which came into the treasury would by no means reach the sum calculated upon. Commissions were then issued to inquii-e into the conduct of the collectors, and to enforce payment in cases where favour had been shown, or where due payment had not been made. The people soon grew obstinate, and declared boldly they would not pay. Hereupon the commissioners treated them very severely, and they again, on their part, resent- ing this severity, began secretly to combine for resistance, and proceeded to chase away, wound, or even kill the officers of the law. One of these commissioners, Thomas de Bampton, sat at Brentwood in Essex, and summoned the people of Fob- bings before him. They declared that they would not pay a penny more than they had done. Bampton then menaced them, and ordered hissergeant-at-arms to arrest them. But they drove him and his men away. Where- upon Sir Eobert Bealknap, the chief justice of the Com- mon Pleas, was sent into Essex to try the recusants; but they denounced him as a traitor to the king and country, made him glad to get away, and cut off the heads of the jurors and clerks of the commission, which they stuck upon poles, and carried through all the neigh- bouring towns and villages, calling on the people to rise. In a few days the commons of Essex were in a general insurrection, and hnd found a leader in a vagabond priest, who called himself Jack Straw. They attacked the house of Sir Eobert Hales, the Lord Treasurer of England, who was also Prior of the Ejiights of St. John of Jerusalem. Ample provision had just been made for a chapter-general of the order, and there was in the house abundance of meats, wines, clothes, and other things for the knights brethi-en. The peojile ate up the provisions, diank the wine, and destroyed the house. They then sent letters and messengers into all tho neighbouring counties, and not only the peasantry of Kent, but of Noi-folk and Suffolk, were soon up in arms. But the incident which caused the whole immediately to break into flame was this : — One of the collectors of the t.ax at Dartford, in Kent, went to the house of one Wat Tyler, or Walter the Tyler, who, Froissart says, was "indeed a tyler of houses, an ungracious patron." He demanded the tax for a daughter of Wat, whom the mother contended was under fifteen, the age fixed by the law. The insolent tax-gatherer declared he would prove that, and was proceeding to the grossest outrage, when Wat came running in at the outcries of the wife and daughter, and knocked out the scoundrel's brains with his hammer. The neighbours applauded Wat's spirit, and vowed to stand by him; " for," says the chronicler, " the rude officers had in many places made the like trial." The news of this exciting occurrence, and the insui-- rection of the men of Kent, spread rapidly over the whole country, from the Thames to the Humber ; thi'ough Hert ford, Surrey, Sussex, Suffolk, Norfolk, Cambridge, ani, Lincoln. In every place they chose some leader, whose assumed names still remain in their letters and proclama- tions, as Jakke Milner, Jak Carter, Jak Treweman, and Jon Balle. They were invited by the letters from Kent to march to London, where " the Commons should be of one mind, and should do so much to the king that there should not be one bondman in all England." They are reported soon to have mustered 60,000 from the counties round London, making free with houses and provisions as they marched along. But the great stream appears ta have come from Kent and the south. One of their first visits was to Sii' Simon Buiiey, the guardian of the king, at Gravesend. Sir Simon had claimed a jnan living in that town as his bondman, in spite of the legal plea set up that he had resided there more than a year and a day. He demanded 3U0 pounds of silver for the man's freedom ; but this was refused, and Sir- Simon sent his prisoner to Eochester Castle. The men of Kent, now joined by a strong body from Essex, marched on Eochester, took the castle by surprise, and not only liberated this man, but other prisoners. At Maidstone Wat Tyler was elected captain of the insurgent host, and tho democratic preacher, John Ball, as its chaplain, who took for the text of his first sermon the good old rhyme — " Wlien Adam dolve, and Eve span, Who was then the gentleman ? " Wat Tyler and his host entered Canterbury on the Monday after Trinity Sunday, 1381, where John Ball denounced death to the archbishop, who had often im- prisoned him, who, however, luckily was absent. But they broke open the archbishop's house; and, as they carried out the wealthy pillage, they said, "Ah! this Chancellor of England hath had a good market to get together all this riches. Ho shall now give an account of the revenues of England, and the gi-eat profits he hath gathered since the king's coronation." A.D. 13S1.] IKsUHRECTION OF WAT TTLEE. ■ll-.i They struck terror into tlie mouks aud clergy of the catlicdral ; did much, damage to it and tho church of St. Vincent, as is said ; compelled tho mayor and aldermen to swear fidelity to King Eichard aud tho Commons of England ; cut off tho heads of threo ■wealthy men of the city; and, followed by 500 of the poor inhabitants, advanced towards London. By tho timo they reached Blackheath, joined by the streaming thousands from all quarters, the insui'gents are said to have amounted to 100,000 men. Into the midst of this strange, rudo, and tumultuous host, suddcnl}', to her astonishment and terror, came tha king's mother, on her return from a pilgrimage to Canter- bury. " She was," says Froissart, " in great jeopardy to have been lost, for the people came to her chaise and did rudely use her, whereof the good lady was in great dread lest they should have dealt rudely with her damsels. Howbeit, God kept her," and being excused with a few kisses, and with offers of pi'otection, she got to London as fast as she could, and to her son in the Tower, with whom there were tho Eiui of Salisburj-, the Archbishop of Canterbury, tho Earl of Hereford, Sir Eobert of Namuv, aud other noblemen and gentlemen. At Blackheath John Ball frequently addi'essed tho ass3mbled multitudes on his old and favourite topics of the rights and equality of men. "Wo must bear in mind that this man and his doctrines have been described by his enemies. Ho appears to have been a thorough demo- crat or Chartist of his daj-, drawing his opinions from the literal declarations of tho gospel that God is no respecter of persons ; and, addressing these new aud startling ideas to the inflamed minds of ignorant and oppressed people, they immediately applied them iu their own way, and not onlj' declared that they would have no more lords, barons, and archbishops, but simply the king and the Commons of England. They are said to have committed great atrocities on their way from different counties, pillaging the manors of their lords, demolishing the towns, and burning the court rolls. They swore to be true to tho king, and to have no king of the name of John, this being aimed at John of Gaunt, their standing aversion, and who was regarded as the author of this tax, because ho exercised authority over his nephew. They also swore to oppose all taxes but fifteenths, tho ancient tallage paid by their fathers. That many outrages were committed is most probable : such must be inovitablo fi-om so general a rising of an uneducated aud oppressed populace smarting under generations of wi'ongs. But we shall most fairly judge them by their own public demands presented to the king, which we shall presently see were most wonderfully sim- ple, reasonable, and enlightened for such a people, \inder such exasperating circumstances. The harangues of John Ball are described as working the insurgent army into the wildest excitement, and the admiring people are said to have declared that he should bo the Primate and Chancellor of England, this officer at that time being almost always a prelate. At the taking of the castle of Rochester, the mob had compelled the governor. Sir John Newton, to go along with them ; and now they sent him up the river in a boat to go to the king at the Tower as their messenger. He was to inform the king of all that they had done or meant to do for his honour ; to say that his kingdom had for a long time been ill-governed by his uncles and tho clergy, espe- cially by the Archbishop of Canterburj-, his chancellor,' from whom they would have an account of his adminis- ' ti-ation of the revenue. Sir John, coming to tho Tower, was received by Eichard graciously ; aud he then told tho peoj)lo"3 desire, assuring tho king that all he said was true, and that he dared do no other than bring tho message, for they had his children as hostages, and would kill them if he did not return. With the king were his mother, tho archbishop. Sir John Holland, tho Eurls of Warwick, Berwick, aud Salisbury, tho Grand Prior of the Knights of St. John, aud many others who had flocked thither for safety. The king's brothers, the Dukes of Lancaster, York, and Gloucester, were absent, tho unpopular Lancaster being iu Scotland. .^yter some consultation, the king informed Sir John that in the morning he would come aud speak to the people. With this message Sir John joyfully departed, aud the vast crowd are said to have received the message of the king's coming with great satisfaction. The next morning, being the 12th of Jime, the king, attended bj' a considerable number of tho lords of the court, descended the river in his barge. At Eotherhithe he found 10,000 men on the river banks awaiting his coming, with two banners of St. George and sixty pen- nons. So soon as they saw tho king they set up one universal cheer. This was no doubt meant as a hearty welcome ; but the king and his courtiers being all in a state of panic — for the council, it is stated, were perfectly paralysed by their fears — tho boisterous acclamation struck the royal party as frightful yells. " The people," says Froissai-t, " made such a shout and cry as if all the devils in hell had been among them." No doubt tho terrors of the democrats of Flanders, now again in full action, of the horrible Jacquerie and tho ruthless Malle- teers, at this timo paralysing Paris, were all present to tho minds of the royal party, aud, with the uncouth appearance of the mob, operated awfully upon them. Instead of landiug, the coui'tiers advised the king to draw off. Tho people cried to tho king that, if he would come on shore, they would show him wliat they wanted ; but tho Earl of Salisbury replied, saying, " Sirs, ye bo not in such order or array that the king ought to speak to you ; " aud with that the royal barge bore away up the river again. At this sight tho crowd were filled with indignation. They had hoped that now they should bring to the royal ear all their grievances ; and there can bo little doubt that if the king had shown the spii-it which he afterwards did, and boldly and courteously put his barge within good hearing, and listened to and answered their com- plaints, all that followed might have been prevented. But being now persuaded that the great lords about him would not allow tho king to hold fair and open audience with them "they returned," says Froissart, " to tho hill whore the main body lay " — for this was only a deputa- tion, the hill being most likely Greenwich Park — and there informed the multitude what had taken place. On hearing this tho enraged host cried out with one voice, "Let us go to London!" "And so," continues Froissart, " they took their way thither ; and on their 414 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [a.d. 1381. going they beat down abbeys and houses of advocates and men of the court, and so came into the suburbs of London, which were sreat and fair, and beat down divers:' fair houses, and especially the king's prisons, as the Marshalsea and others, and delivered out the pri- soners that were therein." They broke into the palace of the archbishop at Lambeth, regarding him as the great enemy of the nation, and burnt the furniture and the records belonging to the chancery. houses, and sat down to eat and diink. They desired nothing but it was incontinently brought to them, for every man was ready to make them good cheer, and to give them meat and drink to please them. Then the captains, as John Ball, Jack Straw, and Wat Tyler, went throughout London, and 20,000 men with them, and S9 came to the Savoy in the way to Westminster, which was a goodly house, which appertained to the Duke of Lan- caster; and when they entered they slew the keepero John of Gaunt. As the men of Kent advanced through Soutliwark, the men of Essex advanced along the loft bank of the river, destroyed the house of the lord treasurer at Ilighbury, and menaced the north of London. When the men of Kent arrived at London Bridge they found it closed against them, and they declared that if they were not admitted they would burn all the suburbs, and, taking London by force, would put every one to death. The people within said, " Why do we not let these good people in ? What they do they do for us all!" and thereupon they let down the centre of the bridfjo, wliich W:ilworth, the mayor, had had drawn up. " Then these people entered into tha citj-, and wunt into thereof, and robbed and pillaged the Louse, and then set fire to it, and clean burnt and destroyed it." This palace of John of Gaunt's was the most magnifi- cent house in London. The mob having thus shown their hatred of him, went to the house of the Knights Hospitallers in Clerkenwell, which had been lately built by Sir Robert Hales, the grand prior and treasurer of the kingdom, whose house they destroyed at Highbury. In destroying these noble houses, the people disclaimed any idea of plunder. Their objects were, as they asserted, to punish the great traitors to the nation, and obtain their freedom from bondage. They published a proclamation forbidding any one to secrete any booty. They hammered i.u. nsi.] EICUARD II. -lij WyclifTe api'C.-iriDtj bofnre tho Prelates at St. Paul's lo answer l.lie Cliargo u( Hereby 415 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. loSl. out the plate, and cut it into small pieces. They beat the precious stones to powder, and one of the rioters having concealed in his bosom a silver cup, was thrown with his prize into the river. But they were not so abstinent of the wine which they found in the cellars. With this, to them, new and deli- cious liquor, they grew intoxicated and fui'ious, and pro- ceeded to the most bloody ti-agedies. To every one whom they met they put the question, " With whom boldest thou?" and unless he said, " With King Richard and the Commons," off went his head. The Fleet prison and Newgate were destroyed, the liberated prisoners labour- ing heartily at the demolition. The Temple, with all its Iiooks and ancient works, was burnt. All foreigners they 'iostroyed with the constant antipathy of the uneducated; iiut against the Lombards and the Flemings, as money iealers and contractors with Government, their rage was ieadly. They dragged thii-ty Flemings out of the • hurches, whither they had fled for sanctuary, and '.hirty-two more out of the Vintry, and dispatched them. Having left more than thirty of their number buried in their intoxication under the smoking ruins of the Savoy, and massacred many eminent citizens as they endeavovired to escape, wearied out with drink and slaughter, at night they sat down before the Tower. In the morning the sight from the Tower was by no means cheering. The immense multitude was clamour- ing for the heads of the chancellor and treasurer, whom they regarded as main authors of all the exactions and ill-treatment they had received, and excluding the entrance of all provisions till their demand was con- ceded. Presently a message was brought then^ from the king that if they would quietly retii'e to Mile End, then having plenty of open land, "where the people of the city did disport themselves in the summer season," he •would meet them there and listen to their requests. Anon the gates were thrown open, the drawbridge lowered, and Richard, attended by a few unarmed fol- lowers, rode on amid the throng. Ai-riving at Mile End, he found himself surrounded by 60,000 petitioners. On the way Richard's half brothers, the Earl of Kent and Sir John Holland, had taken alarm and ridden off, leav- ing this youth of sixteen in a cowardly manner in such circumstances. Bat Richard on this occasion displa3'ed a bravery and a discretion which, had they been uniformly exhibited, must have produced a prosperous reign. According to Froissart, in the night, while they lay asleep on Tower Ilill, the king had been advised by Sir WiUiam Walworth and others to make a saUy and slay them in their sleep ; for, as he observes, there were not one in twenty in harness, and as they were drunken, they jnight be killed like so many flies. These counsellors represented that the citizens of London could easily do this, as they had their friends ready in arms secreted in their houses, and that there were Sir Robert Knowles and Sir Perdiccas d'Albret, the famous Free Companion captains, with 8,000 more that might be mentioned. But the Earl of Salisbury and " the wise men about the king gave better and more humane advice." And now that the king spoke face to face with them, behold, all their demands resolved them into these four : — 1. The abolition of bondage. 2. The reduction of tho rent of land to fourpence tho aero. 3. The free liberty of buying and selling in all fairs and markets. 4. A general pardon for the past offences. The king with a smiling countenance assiired them that all this was fuUy granted them, and that if they would retire every one to his own county and place, he would give one of his banners to those of each shire, bailiwick, and parish to march home under ; and that they should leave two or three from each village to bring unto them copies of the charter he would give them. On hearing this the people said, " We desire no more." They became quite appeased, and began to draw off towards London. That night thirty clerks were em- ployed in making copies of this charter, which were sealed and delivered in the morning. 13ut while the superior and better-disposed country people had attended the king, Wat Tyler and Jack Straw, with the more turbulent and factious portion of the in- surgents, had remained behind. No sooner was the king out of sight, than these treacherous fellows made a rush at the Tower, and got possession of it, most probably through the perfidy or perhaps panic of the garrison, for there were in the Tower, according to Holinshed, 600 men-at-arms, and as many archers^ while of these com- mons and husbandmen many were only provided with sticks, and not one in a thousand properly armed. Here the insurgents got possession, as no doubt was their grand object, of their designed victims, the Archbishop of Canterbury, the chancellor, and Sir Robert Hales, the treasurer ; of William Appledore, the king's con- fessor ; and Legge, one of the fanners of the obnoxious tax, with three of his accomplices. All these they speedily beheaded. The head of the archbishop was carried through the city on the point of a lance, with the hat he wore nailed to the skull, that he might be better known to the multitude, and it was set on London Bridge. They ranged through all the apartments of the Tower, again came upon the terrified mother of the king, pricked her bed with their swords to see if any one was con- cealed in it, and saluted her with a few more kisses. The poor lady fainted away, and was carried by her attendants to her house, called " The Wardi-obe in Carter Lane." Here the king on his return joined her, and gave her comfort, ti-usting that all would soon now be over. In the morning Richard left the Wardrobe, and, after mass at Westminster, rode through Smithfield at the head of sixty horsemen, where he beheld a great throng of people in front of the abbey of St. Bartholomew. He said he would go no fru-ther till he knew what ailed them, and that he would appease them again. It was Wat Tyler at the head of 20,000 insurgents. Wat had refused the charter sent to him, demanding fresh conditions ; and, when these were conceded in a second, demanded still more ; amongst other things, the total repeal of the forest or game laws, and that all parks, waters, warrens, and woods should be common, so that the poor as well as the rich should freely fish in all waters, hunt the deer in the parks and forests and the hare in the fields. On seeing the king stop Wat Tyler said, " Sirs, yonder is the king ; I will go and speak with him. Stir not hence without I make you a sign ; and when I make you- a sign, come on and slay them all except the king. He is A.D. 1381.] DEATH OF WAT TYLER. 417 young ; -wo can do with him as wo plea.su, and wo will lead him with us all about England, and so wo shall bo lords of all the realm without doubt." Wat rode up to the king, and so near that the head of his horso touched the flanks of that of the king. Then said Wat, " Sii- kin-, soost thou all yonder people?" "Yea, truly," said^'tho king ; " why dost thou ask ?" " Because," said W'lt Tyler, ° they be all at my commandment, and have sworn to me faith and truth to do all that I will have thorn. And thinkest thou that they, and as many more in ijondon, will depart without thy letters?" The king courteously assured him they should have them ; and at this point, says Froissart, Wat Tyler cast his eyes on an esquire of the king, wliom he hated on account of some words he had said. "Ah!" said he, "art thou there? Give me thy dagger." The esquu'o refused, but the king bade him give it, and with that Wat began to play with it, and said to the esqmre, " By my faith I wiU never eat meat tiU I have thy head." At this moment the mayor. Sir AVilliam Walworth, com- ing up with his twelve horse, aud hearing these words, an°d looking through the press, said, " Ha ! thou knave, darest thou speak such words in the king's presence?" Wat gave a sharp answer, and Froissart says that the ting said to Walworth, " Set hands on him." Be that as it may, Walworth thrust a short sword into Tyler's thi-oat ; or, as others s.ay, struck him on the head with it or with his mace. At aU events, Walworth gave him the first blow, which was speedily followed by one of the king's squires— one Eobert Standish, probably the one with whom tho altercation commenced— stabbing him in the abdomen. Tyler wheeled his horso round, rode about a dozen yards, and fell to the ground, where he soon expu-ed. On seeing him fall his followers cried out, " We are betrayed ! They have killed our captain ! " and they put themselves in battle array, with their bows before them. With wonderful presence of mind Eichard ordered his attendants to keep back, and, riding confidently up to the people, said, " Sii-s, what aileth you ? I will be your leader and captain. Follow me, I am your king ; Tyler was but a traitor ; be ye at rest and peace." Then he rode back to his company, who advised that they should draw off into tho fields near Islington. Thither many followed the king ; and many, hoping no good, quietly stole away. On coming into the fields, they beheld the renowned" Free Companies captain. Sir Eobert Knowles, with 1,000 men-at-arms; and tho insurgents, now feaiing the worst, got away as fast as they could, throwing down their bows, and many kneeling to the king and imploring pardon. Knowles burned to bo allowed to charge and cut them all down ; but the king refused him this indulgence, saying ho would take his revenge in another way; which, in truth, he afterwards did. He issued a proclamation, however, forbidding any stranger to remain another night in the city on pain of death. Such is the history of this remarkable insurrection as transmitted to us with some slight va 'iations by Frois- sart, Knyghton, Walsingham, Stow, and Holinshed. While these things passed in London, various parts of the country were equally agitated and overrun by the insurgents. In the south the outbreak extended as far as Winchester, ia the aortli as far as Beverley and Scar- borough. The nobility shut themselves up, aud neither stirred out to free themselves nor aid tho king. So general aud simultaneous was the rising, that some sup- posed that it was concerted and conducted by some able but invisible leaders much above Wat Tyler and Jack Straw in influence and subtilty. When tho mob was at Blackhcath there were strange rumours that the king's uncle, the Duke of Gloucester, was seen disguised amongst them ; but this was probably owing to some ono bearing a strong resemblance to the duke being there, or was got up by his enemies to injure him at court, as there were active endeavoiu-s, about the same time, to alarm the king regarding Lancaster's intentions, who was on the borders treating with tho Scots. Only one man of distinction acted with tho spirit which might have boon expected from the warlike baronage of England, and that was a churchman. Henry Spencer, the young Bishop of Norwich, finding that the rebellious peasantry would not listen to what he considered reason, buckled on ai-mour, mounted his steed, and at the head of a strong body of retainers ho attacked them in the field as they were pursuing their career of depredation. He repeatedly sui-prised these marauding bodies, routed, aud slew them. His mode of dealing with them was summary and unique. After every battle ho sat in judgment on his prisoners, and, after giving them absolution from their sins, had their heads struck ofl". By these means he soon restored order in the counties of Norfolk, Huntingdon, and Cambridge. When the news of Tyler's overthi-ow and the dispersion of the insurgents spread through the country, and those who had shut themselves up in castle aud town hurried forth to show theii- deep loyalty to the king, his work had long been done. Eichard himself, having stuck the heads of Wat Tybr and numbers of his compeers on London Bridge, was advised to undertake a progress through the difl'erent quarters of his kingdom, to make all quiet and secui-c. Numbers flocked to his standard, and at the head of 40,000 men he advanced from place to place, issuing proclamations, recalling and destroying the charters ho had given, commanding the villeins to return to their labours, and prohibiting, under severe penalties, any illegal assemblies. In Kent and E3=ex Eichard found some resistance; and it was not imtil 500 of these unhappy creatures had been killed in Essex that they gave way. On this occasion Eichard is reported to have addressed them in this style : — " Eustics ye have been and are, and in bon- dage shall ye remain; not such as yo have heretofore known, but in a condition incomparably more vile." This was very difl'erent language to that which he had held when he addressed them in force in London ; and would .show, if it were at all needful, that as a boy of fifteen ho could deeply dissimulate ; that ho never for a moment intended to grant the gi-oaning people any reUef ; and that he hoarded up his vengeance, as many of his most power- ful nobles had to experience, till ho saw his opportunity. And, in keeping with this character, at every town that lay in the neighbourhood of tho distmbed districts ho opened commissions for the summary condemnation of offenders. According to Holinshed, 1,000 of the insur- gents were executed; amongst them Jack Straw, and •418 (JASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1382. Lester and Westbroom, who had assumed the title of Kings of Norfolk and Suffolk. When Parliament met it was announced to it that the king had revoked all the charters he had been obliged to grant to the villeins ; but the chancellor suggested whether it would not be well to aboHsh the serfdom altogether. This, probably, was the enlightened view of the king's • better counsellors : it certainly was not his view of things -on his journey ; but it met with the response which was -inevitable at that day. The barons declared that nothing should induce them to give up the services of their villeins, and that they would resist with all their power either violence or persuasion for that object ; nay, were it even to save themselves fi-om one general and inevitable massacre. It was plain the day for the extinction of serfdom was not yet come. The Commons, indeed, attributed the insurrection to its true causes — to the long-continued exactions occasioned by the wars of the late reigns, which had impoverished the landowners, and deteriorated the condition of the villeins. These expenses, which had produced no advantage to the nation, had made the mass of the people wretched. The rapacity of the officers employed to collect these aids, and of the purveyors, who were but a species of licensed ban- ditti, was unbounded. Besides, there were bands of real banditti, called maintainors, who in various parts of the ■country subsisted by robbery. These ruffians, such was the inefficient preservation of public order in the country, assembled in great bands, seized people, and especially women, for their ransoms, and killed such persons as attempted to resist. They abounded in Cheshire and Iiaucashire, made expeditions of a hundred miles or more, and carried off the daughters of men of property, and pretended they had married them ; after which they sent to their parents demanding the fortunes to be sent to them on peril of the lives of the abducted victims. But, though the Commons pointed out these causes of popular discon- tent, and obtained an inquiry into the matter, with some reforms in the courts of law and the king's household, they were as far from thinking of the emancipation of the serfs as the lords. They made the danger of again raising them a plea for not yielding the king fresh taxes, but they were, after much reluctance, compelled to grant them. This being done, Richard proclaimed a general pardon, which eventually extended to the peasantry. The king was now sixteen, and at this early age he was married to Anne of Bohemia, who herself was only fifteen. She was the daughter of the late Emperor of Germany, Charles IV., called Charles of Luxembourg at the battle of Poictiers, where he attended his father, the old blind King of Bohemia. Anne was thus granddaughter to the brave old blind monarch, and sister to the Emperor Sigis- mund. As has almost universally been the case with German princesses, there was a great boast and parade of the illustrious ancestry of Anne, but no money whatever. Nay, Richard, or rather the country, had to pay the ex- penses of her journey to England, though it was made from the palace of one royal relative to that of another, particularly the Dukes of Brabant and Flanders, and under their escort. But, though high pedigreed and portionless, Anne was reckoned handsome, and, far better, was extremely good -hearted and pious. The king became deeply attached to her, and the English were extremely proud of her as the Coesar's sister, of which they could never speak enough. She only lived twelve years as queen ; but she won the affection of every one who came near her, was universally beloved, and long lamented under the name of the " Good Queen Anne ;" and had she lived as long as her husband, would undoubtedly have preserved him from alienating the love of his people, and perishing as he did. On the meeting of Parliament, soon after the king's marriage, the Duke of Lancaster solicited the grant of £60,000 to enable him to prosecute his claims on the towns of Spain, through the right of his wife, the Lady Con- stance, daughter of Don Pedro the Cruel ; but after much debate the advance was declined. The circumstances of the country rendered it equally tmadvisable that a large body of the military men of the realm should be withdrawn from it, and that money should be expended for foreign claims while the people were so sore on the subject of their heavy taxation. The duke was therefore compelled, however unwillingly, to postpone his expedition to Spain. His anxiety at this time was owing to the failure of the Earl of Cambridge, who had been sent out to support the King of Portugal against the King of Spain. The Earl of Cambridge had carried over a small but brave army to Portugal, the Duke of Lancaster promising to follow him with a greater force ; but his embassy to Scotland, and the breaking out of the Wat Tyler insurrection, had prevented this ; and Ferdinand, King of Portugal, finding himself disappointed of the duke's aid, and fearing to be overcome by Spain, had made peace with John of Castile, greatly to the chagriu of the Earl of Cambridge, who had made a maiTiage alliance between his son John and the only daughter of the King of Portugal, both mere children. On this peace being concluded, the Earl of Cambridge returned to England, having efi'ected nothing towards the establishment of the claims of his brother, John of Gaunt, but, much in opposition to the King of Portugal, had brought away his son. This led afterwards to the divorce of his son's young Portuguese wife, by dispensation from the Pope, and her marriage to the King of Spain. Thus the King of Spain not only maintained himself on the throne of Castile, in defiance of John of Gaunt, but the King of Portugal dying, he laid claim in right of his wife to that kingdom. These were the circumstances which made Lancaster eager to pass over and assert his claims, but at this juncture without effect. He had only, however, to wait a few years for a more favourable opportunity. England was at this moment about to undertake the support of the very principles of freedom and popular independence in Flanders which it had so sternly put down at home. Flanders, as the earliest manufacturing and trading country, had, as we have seen, speedily dis- played a democratic spii-it. It had expelled its ruler, who resisted, and endeavoui'cd to crush all tendency towards popular rights. Though Jacob van Artavelde, the stout brewer of Ghent, had -fellen, yet that high-spirited city had maintained a long cai'eer of independence. Philip van Artavelde, the son of Jacob, warned by the fate of his father, had, during his youth, kept aloof from popular ambition, and adhered to a strictly private life. But the people of Ghent becoming sorely pressed by the Earl of Flanders, and its very existence being at stake, Philip, no longer able to suppress the spirit of the patriot born A.D. 1382.] PmLIP VAN AETAVELDE. 419 •with him, suddenly emerged from his obscurity and put himself at the head of the populace. The people had assumed a white hat as the badge of their partj', aud their former leader, John Lyou, was dead, under the suspicion of being poisoned by some emissary of the coui-t party. PhUip van Artavoldo put on the ■white hat, and thus announced to the public that he was willing to tread ia the steps of his father, aud of their late leader. The most subtle and influential man of this party was one Peter Dubois, who promised Artavelde his whole interest with the people on ceitain conditions. " Can you," he said, " bear yourself high, and be cruel amongst the Commons, and especially in such things as we shall have to do ? A man is nothing unless he be feared and dreaded, and at the same time renowned for cruelty. Thus must the Flemings be governed; and you must have no more regard for the life of man, or pity for theii- sufferings, than for the life of the brutes which we kiU for food." Philip van Artavelde declared his readiness to adopt this system of action, in order to save his country. He felt, with Peter Dubois, that, to restrain the license of the rude multitude and enable them to win their inde- pendence, there must be a strong hand and a stern disci- pline. That he could assert this he immediately showed, on being elected Governor of Ghent, by arresting and cutting off the heads of twelve of the ringleaders of the tumult in which his father was murdered ; giving solemn proof that he would not forget his enemies. Presently after- wards he and Peter Dubois put to death with their own hands two ambassadors, whom they had sent to treat with the Earl of Flanders, and who had agreed to give up to the earl a hundred of such citizens as he should name, to be entirely at his pleasui-e, on condition of neace. 'Jn these ambassadors declaring these terms, Pet"r Dubois and Philip Artavelde rose up, and, reproaching them with their treason, stabbed them on the spot, in the midst of the council. Having thus demonstrated in sanguinary earnest, to both friends and foes, that they meant to prosecute the contest in the spii-it of republican Eome, they took the field. The contest was dreadful, for they had not only to contend with the Earl of Flanders, but with the Duke of Burgundy, his son-in-law and heir, and the King of France, the nephew of Philip of Burgundy, whom he had induced to come to their aid with a powerful army. Against this formidable confederacy Philip van Artavoldo made a most brilliant resistance. He compelled the alhed forces to raise the siege of Ghent ; he made himself master of Bruges ; burnt Sechlin, a town of France ; aud laid siege to the strong fortress of Oudenarde. Those who fought under him were arrayed in cassocks of different colours, to denote the towns they belonged to. They were armed principally with pikes; all fought on foot, and in one great phalanx. For about fifteen months Artavelde pursued this siu'prising career of success ; but in November, 1382, he came to a great pitched battle with the French at Eosebeque. The night before this battle Artavelde was roused by a sound of a great host fighting on the hill of Dorre, between his camp and that of the French. He went out, had the trumpets blown to call his troops to battle, and being asked by his officers ■what it meant, he told them ; on which they rephed that they had heard the same sounds, and the battle-cries of the French in the conflict — St. Denis and Mountjoy I with lights in the sky; but they had sent thither, and found nothing. Tho next day the battle was fought on this hill, and Philip was slain, with 9,000 of his followers. This great overthrow, it was supposed, would completely prostrate the Flemings ; but the King of France, a boy now only fourteen years of age, was obliged to hurrv home to suppress the insurrection of his own people iu Eouen and Paris, who, like the Flemish and Engli.sh, had risen in resistance to tho tax-gatherers and oppressors. The Parisians, 30,000 in number, had armed themselves with iron mallets, whence thoy were caUed Maillctins, or Malleteors. With these mallets they smashed the helmets of tho soldiers sent against them, and made themselves unassailable by digging ditches, building walls, and bar- ricading tho streets — a practice in which they have been foUowod by their descendants in our time. The Flemings, relieved from the presence of the French, recovered themselves, and still made a desperate resistance. At this time there were two Popes — Clement VII., a Frenchman, and Urban VI., an Italian. We have seen that on all occasions when there was only one Pope, he was a zealous peace-maker ; but this schism, ■with its two rival pontiffs, naturally produced a fiery feud. The French Pope, Clement, was recognised by France and its allies, Scotland, Spain, Sicily, and Cyprus. Urban was supported by England, the people of Flan- ders, and the rest of Europe. Tho two pontiffs launched their anathemas against each other, and roused all their allies to assist their respective causes. France exerting itself powerfully to give the ascendency to Clement, Urban entreated the aid of England. Tho prominence which the Bishop of Norwich had assumed in the Wat Tyler insui'reotion, and his prompt energy and success as a general, drew the attention of Urban, and he sent to the martial bishop extraordinary powers as his champion. Tho king and Parliament gave theii- consent ; a fifteenth lately granted by the Commons was made over to the prelate for the purposes of the enterprise, and he engaged to serve against France for a year, ■with 2,500 men-at- arms and the same number of archers. Philip iVrtavelde, in his great need, had solicited the assistance of England ; but his ambassadors had most impolitically demanded at tho same time tho payment of a debt which they alleged was of forty years' standing. Tho Duke of Lancaster aud the royal council had made themselves merry over this unique mode of soliciting aUiauce in a crisis, and refused to help them. But now it was determined to abet the people of Ghent, as a means of upholding them, after theh- heavy defeat at Eosebeque, against France. Henry of Norwich passed over the Channel, took Gravelines by assault, pui-suod the fugitives to Dunkirk, and entered the town in their rear. He was spcudily master of the coast as fai- as Sluys, and might have struck a decisive blow at the French power in Flanders ; but ho was not supported, though there was a numerous body of men-at-arms at Calais. The Duke of Lancaster, whoso own offers of leading this expedition had beea refused by Parhament, and who is said to have seen ■nith chagrin tho success of his rival, was accuso TO A.D. 1399.] EABLY HISTORY OF PAELLVMEXT. 451 452 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1216 blished to promote wooUea maaufactuves ; and foreign merchants were allowed trial by jury, the jury consisting half of foreigners : and they had a justiciary in London for theii- protection, evidently the or gin of consuls. In all that related to his own prerogative, however, Edward was very arbitrary, continually breaking the charter, exercising purveyances, and exacting taxes with- out consent of Parliament ; and one of the worst evils of his reign was his empowering the nobles to entail their estates by a direct statute which has given the aristocracy King and Ai-mour-bearer. loth Century.— Meyrick. of to-day its overwhelming and dangerous influence. He passed the famous statute De tallagio cum concidendo, pro- hibiting the levy of tallages, or arbitrary imposition ; but nobody paid less attention to the statute than himself. The unsettled reign of Edward II. left the constitution pretty much as it found it ; but in the following reign great progress was made. Edward III. had incessant demands for money to carry on his wars in Scotland and France; and, therefore, he was in the constant habit of calling together his Parliament. There remain no fewer than seventy writs of summons to Parliament and great councils issued during his reign. The difference between Parliaments and great councils at that time seems to be that in Parliament ho required the Commons to grant taxes ; in groat councils only the barons and great ofEcers to consult on matters in which money-raising was not concerned. In Edward III.'s reigu Parliament resolved itself into three great elements — the Lords, the Commons, and the Clergy. In the Parliament which met in Westminster in 1339, the barons voted a tenth sheaf, fleece, and lamb; the knights objected to so large a contribution till they had consulted their constibaents. This led to the knights of shires, who were representatives, meeting also with the Commons, who were representatives, and thus the repre- sentative house became separated from the hereditary house. It required time to amalgamate the two classes o£ knights and citizens in one house ; the knights, as belong- ing to the aristocracy, looking down on the citizens, and they in their turn having a very humble idea of them- selves ; but we shall see that all that gradually corrected itself. The clergy now regularly voted their funds in Convocation, and no longer sat in the Commons by their proxies. It does not appear exactly when the judges ceased to sit ex-officio in Parhament, but they had ceased to do so in Eichard II.'s time. In the forty-sixth of Edward III., practising lawyers were excluded by statute from Parliament, a position which they have since re- gained. The knowledge of political economy possessed by Turliament in this famous reign was lamentably low. The topographical knowledge of the Commons was ludi- crous. They granted the king, in 1371, £50,000, by a tax of 223. 3d. on each parish, supposing the number of parishes to be about 45,000 ; but finding they were not one-fifth of that number, they had to alter the rate to £5 10s. per parish. But this was not a more amazing mistake than that of the English ambassador at Eome six years afterwards, who, finding that the Pope had created Lewis of Spain prince of the Fortunate Islands, meaning the Canary Isles, immediately hurried homo with all his suite to convey the alarming news that the Pope had given the British Isles to the King of Spain ! The statute books of this famous king show the most absurd en- deavours to disturb the freedom of trade, betraying as little knowledge of the principles of political economy as our own legislators on the corn laws. Wishing to raise a manufacturing system, it was forbidden to import woollen cloths before we could supply the people with home-made goods. Money was prohibited from being j carried out of the country. They were obliged to let in foreign cloth, or the people would soon have been naked; yet after awhile they prohibited it again. A famine I having taken place, they passed an act to keep down the j price of all articles of food ; the consequence of which. I was, nobody would bring any such articles to market ; and they were compelled to abolish that. Then they did the same thing by labour, fixing the rate of wages ; and yet when Wat Tyler's party in the following reign wanted to regulate the prico of land, the attempt was pronounced barbarous. In this reign an act was passed ordering all pleas to be conducted in English and enrolled in Latin, they having been hitherto, since the Norman Conquest, chiefly con- ducted and enrolled in Norman-French, which was quite an unknown tongue to the bulk of the common people. The statutes, however, had been recorded in Latin till 1206, when they began to be written in French. This took place at Winchester in some statutes concoi-ning the exchequer, and not in the statute of Westminster in 1675, as asserted by somo historians. The practice of pleading TO A.D. 1399.] ANNU.\Ij EEVENUES. 453 in French was not uniform in the reign of Edward I., but became more and more, till in Edward III.'s reign it was almost exclusively used. In the same Parliament of Winchester there were penalties enacted against the extortions of bakers and brewers. The bakers were punished by the pillory; the brewers, who, it appears, were all women, by tho ducking-stool. The wars with France had now created .an anti-French feeling, and so far tended to develop tho English language as well as Bpirit, and make it tho language of all classes. 13th Ceutury. Ciborium, in the Collection of Prince Soltykoff, at Paris. The reign of Eichard II. is distinguished constitutionally by tho more regular and established separate assembling of the two Houses of Parliament, and by the rapidly rising power of tho Commons. This house had now its duly appointed speaker, Su- Peter de la Mare being par- ticularly noted in that office, and the Commons proceeded to impeach the king's ministers for maladministration. Having, however, given the king sxipplies for bfo, the Commons lost its influence, became servile and debased, and led more than anything to tho deposition and destruc- tion of the monarch. Duruig the period now under review, Wales was added permanently to England by Edward II., and its laws and constitution made identical. The laws of Scotland, also, during this time were very similar to those of England. The great Robert Bruce, after his power was established ■by the b.attle of Bannockburn, summoned a Parliament, which met at Scone, in 1319, and passed a capitulary, or collection of statutes; and in 1328 a second system or capitulary was passed, consisting of thirty-eight chapters. Alany of these are clearly framed from the English statutes of Henry III. and Edward I., and some of them are tran- scribed almost verbatim; a proof of tho wisdom and joagnanimity of Bruce, who did not disdain to benefit by the good laws of an enemy. The Parliament held at Cambuskennoth, in 1326, included not only burgesses, Ijut all the other freeholders of the kingdom. In a word, so great was tho resemblance between the laws and consti- tutions of the two countries during this period, that it is not necessary to note tho minor ditferences. The Par- liament of Scotland never divided itself into Lords and Commons. It is difficult to ascertain the annual revenues of the crown in those ages. That of Henry III. is stated at 60,000 marks, or £40,000; and that of Edward III., at ' £150,000; and taking those sums at ten times their pre- sent value, tho revenue of Henry III. must be equivalent to £100,000 now, and Edward III.'s to £1,500,000. If, however, wo recollect tho enormous and iiTegular exactions of those ages, especially on the Jews, the expenditure of the crown must have been immensely larger, POWER OF THE CHURCH, Between the reign of John and the termination of that of Eichard II. a striking change had taken place in tho power of tho Church in England. From the zenith of that marvellous dominion over the kingdoms of this world, such as no Church or religion had yet exercised in tho annals of mankind, it had begun sensibly to wane. From that extraordinary spectacle when, at Torcy, on tho Loire, in 1162, the two greatest kings of Christendom, those of England and France, wore seen holding tho stirrups of tho servant of servants, Alexander III., and leading his horse by the reins, to tho day when John, just half a cen- tury afterwards, laid the crown of this fair empire at tho feet of the Pope, " and became a servant unto tribute," everything had seemed to root the Papacy deeper into the heart of the world. Kings, nobles, and people bowed down to it, and received its foot on their necks with pro- found humility, only occasionally evincing a slight wincing under its exactions. At that period tho Church of Eomo Crozier, 13th Century. In the Collection of Prince Solfykoff, at Paris. had reached the summit of its glory ; but before the era at which wo have now arrived it had received a stern warning that its days in this countiy were numbered as tho established hierarchy. So long as the people were kept ignorant of the Bible, tho opposition of king or peer mattered little to it ; but the people withdrew their allegiance, and it fell rapidly. The Pope, who strenuously supported John against his barons, was equally friendly to his infant son, Henry EH. Cardinal Langton, now in the ascendant, held a synod at Oxford in 1222, in which fifty canons were passed, some 454 CASSELL'S 1-LLUSTRATED HISTORY OP ENGLAND. [A.D. 1216 of wliich let in a curious light on the internal condition of the Church. The twenty- eighth canon forbids the keeping (il concubines by the clergy openly in their houses, or visiting them openly, as they did, to tho great scandal of religion. In 1237 a council -was held at London by Otho, the Papal legate, in.which were passed what wero after- wards known as the "Constitutions of Otho." The fif- teenth and sixteenth canons of this constitution were aimed at the same practices, and at clandestine marriages of tho priests, which were declared to be very common. But the great object of the Church was to coUeot all the English moneys, and in this pursuit there was no slack- ness. A cardinal legate generally resided in this country, Costumo of a Bishop of the 14th Century, whose chief function this was. During Otho's abode here, 300 Italians came over, and wero installed in lucrative livings in the churches and abbeys. In pursuance of Magna Charta, that the Church should be free, it became the only free thing in the kingdom ; every class of men were its vassals, and England was one great sponge which the Italian pontiff squeezed vigorously. The barons in 1245 became so exasperated that they sent orders to the wardens of the sea-ports to seize all persons bringing bulls or mandates from Eome. The legate remonstrated, and the barons thea told the king that the Church preferments alone held by Italians in England, independent of other exactions, amoiinted to 60,000 marks per annum, a greater sum than the revenues of tho crown. The barons went further; they sent an embassy to the Papal council of Lyons, where the Pope was presiding in person, when they declared, " We can no longer with any patience bear these oppressions. They are as detestable to God and man as they aro intolerable to us ; and, by the grace of God, we will no longer endure them." But, so far fi-om relaxing his hold, the Pope soon after E£6gy of Jocelyn, Bishop of Salisbury. From a Tomb in Salisbury Cathedral. sent an order demanding the half of all revenues of the non-resident clergy, and a third of those of the resident ones. This outrageous attempt roused the English clergy to determined resistance, and tho rapacious Pope was defeated. Amongst the most patriotic of tho English prelates was the celebrated Eobert Grosteste, or Grosted, or literallj' Greathead, Bishop of Lincoln. Innocent IV., one of the most imperious pontiffs that ever filled the Papal chair, had sent Grosted a bull containing a clause which created a wonderful ferment in the Church and the public mind, commencing with the words Non obstante, which meant, notwithstanding all that the English clergy had to advance, the holy father was determined to haya TO A.D. 1399.] ECCLESIASTICAL HISTORY. 453 his will, and ho commanded the venerable bishop to bestow a benefioo upon au infant. The honest bishop tore up tho bull, and wi-oto to tho Popo, declaring that the conduct of the seo of Rome " shook tho very foundations of faith and security amongst mankind," and that to put an infant into a living would be next to tho sins of Lucifer and of Antichrist, was in direct opposition to the pre- cepts of Christ, and would be the destruction of souls b)- depriving them of tho benefits of the pastoral ofTice. He refused to comply, and said plainly that tho sins of those who attempted such a thing rose as high as iheir office. The astonished Popo was seized with a furious passion on receiving this epistle, and swore by St. Peter and St. Paul that he would utterly confound that old, impertinent, deaf, doting fellow, and mako him the astonishment of the world. "What!" he exclaimed, "is not England arts of the priests and superstition of the wealthy, that they are said to have amounted to three-fourths of tho property of tho whole kingdom, and threatened to swallow up all its lands. To put a stop to this fearful condition of things, Edward I. passed his famous statute of mortmain in 1279, and arrested tho progress, for a considerable time, of tho Papal avarice. liut, perhaps, the finest draught of golden fishes which tho imperial representative of Peter of Galilee ever made in England, was twenty-five years before the passing of this act, when he had induced Henry III. to nominate his son Edmund to the fatal crown of Naples, and, on pre- tence of supporting his claim, tho Pope drew from Eng- land, within a few years, no less a sum than 950,000 marks, equal in value and purchasable power to £12,000,000 sterling of our present money. ' n g ivj at ijob oil? die^s jki^M- mA<^^ W)Viix- Fac-simUo of Part of the First Chapter of St. John's Gospel, W in Wycliffe's Bible. our possession, and its king our vassal, or rather our slave ?" The resistance of the English clergy only inflamed the cupidity and despotism of the pontiffs. Boniface, the Ai'chbishop of Canterbury, was the servile tool of Rome, and after him Elwarby, Peckham, and "Wincholsey, carried things with a high hand. At various synods and councils held at Merton, Lambeth, London, Reading, and other places, they passed canons, which wont to give the Church unlimited power over everything and everybody. The Church was to appoint to all livings and dignities ; no layman was to imprison a clergyman ; the Church was to enjoy peaceably all pious legacies and donations. Tho barons wrote to the Pope, remonstrating and ".omplaining against the immorality of tho clergy. The Popo replied that he did not suppose the English clergy were any moro licentious than they had always been. The possessions of the Church went on growing to such an extent, from tho Boniface Vlil., famous in his day as the most haughty and uncompromising of tho Popes, issued a bull prohibit- ing all princes, in all countries, levying taxes on the clergy without his consent. Winchelsey, Archbishop of Canterbury, produced this bull, and forbad Edward I. to touch tho sacred patrimony of the Church. But Edward was a monarch of the true British breed, and soon proved himself more than a match for the archbishop and his Roman master. Ho hold a Parliament at Edmondsburj-, in 1296, and demanded a fifth of the movables of the clergy. They refused. Edward gave them till the next Parliament, in January, 1297, to consider of it, when, still refusing, and supposing themselves victorious, the king coolly told them that, as they refused to contribute to the support of the state, they should enjoy no pro- tection from the state. He forthwith ou*lawed them in a body, and ordered all tho sheriffs in England "to seize all the lay foes of the clergy, as well secular as 456 CASSELL'S rLLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1216 regular, with all their goods and chattels, and retain them till they had further orders from him." He gave orders to all the judges, also, " to do every man justice against the clergy, but to do them justice against no man." This was a state of things which they had never expected ; no monarch had ever dreamt of, or had dared to attempt such a measure. It came like a thunder-clap upon the clergy. They found themselves insulted, abused, and plundered on all sides. The archbishop himself, the author of all this mischief, was stripped of everything, and on the very verge of starvation, and was glad to submit and pay his fifth to recover the rest of his property. The power of the Popedom had thus been brought into collision with the royal prero- gative and the issue was such as was most damaging to the Papal prestige all over the world. But Winchelsey, having regained his possessions, was too indignant to remain quiet. He held a second synod at Merton, species of holy beggary. But, in 1311, in the early part of the reign of Edward 11., the Church suffered a great defeat by the overthrow and annihilation of the famous military order of Knights Templars. To prevent the Pope thrusting foreigners into the English prelacies and benefices, Edward III. passed a second statute of pro- visors, and followed it by the statute of premunu-e, order- ing the confiscation of the property and the imprisonment of the person of every one who should carry any pleas out of the kingdom, as well as of the procui'ators of such per- son ; and this was again renewed in 1392 with additional severity by Richard II., including all who brought into the kingdom any Papal bull, excommunication, or anything of the kind. Eight years prior to this Wyolifie died. His doctrines were rapidly spreading ; the reformers, under the name of Lollards, were becoming numerous; the Papal hierarchy was proportiona.Uy alarmed, and Arundel, Author, and Copyist writing From a Miniature of the Romance, " L'lMwje du Munde," Imperial Library of I'aris. JIS. roro, fol. i., in tUo and denounced the utmost terrors of the Church against all sacrilegious invaders of the Church property, and would not rest till Edward obtained his sus- pension from the next Pope, Clement, and expelled him the kingdom. Those contests betwixt the civil and ecclesiastical power in England continued through the whole period we are re- viowing, that is, from 13U7 to 1399, or from the commence- ment of the reign of Edward II. to the end of that of Richard II. To increase the influence of Rome there had arrived two new orders of friars, the Franciscan and Dominican, in the reign of Henry III. The Franciscans appeared in jiugland in 1216, and the Dominicans in 1217. Before their arrival the country swarmed with monks, but these weie stjled mondicaut friars, as devoted 'oa the Archbishop of York, became their most active enemy. But before ho could mature his designs against them, he was involved in the prosecution of the adherents of the Duke of Gloucester for procuring a commission to control the king, for which his brother, the Earl of Arundel, was beheaded, and ho himself banished. The dawn of tho Reformation alieady reddened in tho east, but the day was yet far off. During the fourteenth century, the leading men of the Chiu-ch in Scotland distinguished themselves rather in the patriotic defence of their country against tho English, than in theological matters. Amongst the most distinguished of these were Lambcton, of St. Andrews, Wishart, of Glasgow; Landells, who was Bishop of St. Andi'ows from 1311 to 1035, forty-foiu- years; and Dv, TO A.D. 1399.] THE LIMITED KNOWLEDGE OP THE LEAENED. Robert Trail, Primate of Scotland, who built the castle of St. Andrews, and died in 1401, leaving a great name for strict discipline and wisdom. It is singular that, during this period, the doctrines of "Wycliffo, which had made such a ferment in England, appear to have ex- cited little or no attention in Scotland. guages ; nay, so gross was tho ignorance of tho students of tho time of the common elementary formo of Latin itself, that Kilwarby, Archbishop of Canterbury, on a visit to Oxford in 1276, upbraided the students with such corruptions as these: — "Ego currit; tu currit; cunenr est ego," &c. Roger Bacon. LITEHATDEE, SCIENCE, AND ART. During the period now iindcr review, the thirteenth end fourteenth centuries, the language of the learned was still Latin, and the circle of education still included little more than tho Trivium and Quadrivium of tho former age, that is, the course of three sciences — grammar, rhetoric, and logic ; and the course of four — music, arith- metic, geometry, and astrouomy . The grammar was almost exclusively confined to the Latin, for Eoger Bacon says that there were not more than three or four persons in his time that knew anything of Greek or the Oriental Ian- 39 Wxion grammar was so defective tho rhetoric taught could not be very profound. The mendicant friars seem to have cultivated it with tho greatest assiduity, as neces- sary to give effect to their harangues, and Bederic de Bury, provincial of the Augustinians, in th& fourteenth century, was greatly admired for tho cloquenco of hia preaching. But logic was the all-absorbing study of tho time. The clergy who had attended the Crusaders had brought back from the East a knowledge of Aristotle, ihrough Latin translations and the commentaries of his Arabian admirers. His logic was now applied not only to such metaphysics 458 CASSELL'S ILLTTSTRATED HISTORY OF ETTOLAND. [A.D. 1216 as were taught, but also to theology. Hence arose the school divinity, in which the doctrines taught by the Church were endeavoured to be made conformable to the Ai'istotoliau modes of reasoning, and to be defended by it. If we are to judge of the logic of this period by what remains of it, we should say it was the art of disputing without meaning or object; of perplexing the plainest truths, and giving an air of plausibility to the grossest absurdities. As, for instance, it was argued with the utmost earnestness that " two contrary propositions might be both true." At this time there were no less than 30,000 students at Oxford, and Hume very rea- sonably asks, what were these young men all about ? Studying bad logic and worse metaphysics. The metaphysics of these ages were almost engrossed by the great controversy of the Nominalists and the Realists ; the question, agitated with aU the vehemence of a matter of life and death, being, whether general ideas were realities, or only the particular ideas of things were real. The Nominalists declared that a general idea, de- rived from comparing a great number of individual facts, was no reality, but a mere idea or name; the Realists contended that these general ideas were as absolute ac- tualities as the individual ones on which they were based. RoceUn of Compiegne revived this old question at the end of the eleventh century, and thus became the head of the schoolmen of those ages ; but William of Ockham, in the fourteenth century, again revived this extraordinary question with all its ancient vehemence, his partisans acquiring the name of Ockhamists. Ockham was a Nominalist, and, says an old historian, he and his party " waged a fierce war against another sect of schoolmen, called Realists, about certain metaphysical subtilties which neither of them understood." Mora! philosophy could not be much more rationally taught when metaphysics and logic were so fantastic. Many systems of moral philosophy were taught by the schoolmen, abounding in endless subtle distinctions and divisions of virtues and vices, and a host of questions in each of these divisions. By the logic, metaphysics, and moral philosophy of the schoolmen combined, the most preposterous doctrines were often taught. For instance, Nicholas de TJltricui'ia taught this proposition in the University of Paris in 1300 : — " It may be lawful to steal, and the theft can be pleasing to God. Suppose a young gentleman of good family meets with a very learned pro- fessor (meaning himself), who is able in a short time to teach him all the speculative sciences, but will not do it for less than £100, which the young gentleman cannot procure but by theft ; in that case theft is lawful — which is thus proved : Whatever is pleasing to God is lawful. It is pleasing to God that a young gentleman learn all the sciences, but he cannot do this without theft; there- fore theft is lawful, and pleasing to God." It was high time that something tangible and sub- stantial should come to the rescue of the human mind from this destructive cobwebry of metaphysics ; and the first thing wliich did this was the study of the canon law. The civil and the canon laws not only gave their students lucrative employment as pleaders, but wore the road to advancement in the Church. The cloi'gy in these ages were not only almost the only lawyers, but also the doctors, though some of the laity now entered the profes- sion as a distinct branch. " The civil and canon laws," says Robert Holcot, a writer of that time, " are in out days so exceedingly profitable, procuring riches and honours, that almost the whole multitude of scholars apply to the study of them." What was the real knowledge of the science of medi- cine at this period we may imagine from the great medical work of John Gaddesden, who was educated at Merton College, Oxford, and declared to be the grand luminary of physic in the fourteenth century. "He wrote," says Leland, " a large and learned work on medicine, to which, on account of its excellences, was given the illustrious title of the ' Medical Rose.' This is a recipe in the ' Il- lustrious Medical Rose ' of Gaddesden for the cure of small-pox : — ' After this (the appearance of the eruption), cause the whole body of your patient to be wrapped in red scarlet cloth, or in any other red cloth, and command everything about the bed to be made red. This is an ex- cellent cure. It was in this manner I treated the son of the noble King of England, when he had the small- pox, and I cured him without leaving any marks.' " The royal patient thus treated must have been Edward III., or his brother. Prince John of Eltham. To cure epilepsy Gaddesden orders the patient "and his parents" to " fast three days and then go to church. The patient must first confess, he must have mass on Friday and Saturday, and then on Sunday the priest must read over the patient's head the Gospelfor September, in the time of ^'intage, after the feast of the Holy Cross. After this the priest shall write out this portion of the Gospel reverently, and bind it about the patient's neck, and he shall be cured." That is a sample of the practice of medicine from the great work of the great physician of the age. As to the sui-gery of the time, it is thus described by Guy do Cauliac, in his " System of Surgery," published in Paris in 1363 : — " The practitioners in surgery are divided into five sects. The first foUow Roger and Roland, and the four masters, and apply poultices to all wounds and abscesses. The second follow Brunus and Theodoric, and in the same cases use wine only. The third follow Saliceto and Lanfranc, and treat wounds with ointments and soft plasters. The foiu'th are chiefly Germans, who attend the armies, and promiscuously use potions, oil, and wool. The fifth are old women and ignorant people, who have recourse to the saints in aU cases." It was high time that a man Hke Roger Bacon should appear, and teach men to come out of all this jugglery and mere fancy-work both in science and philosophy, and put everything to the test of experiment — a mode of pliilosophising, however, which made little progress till the appearance, three centuries later, of another Bacon, the groiit Verulam. For the knowledge of geometiy, arithmetic, astronomy, and chemistry — or rather astrology and alchemy — as taught at that period, we may refer to our notice of Bacon amongst the great men of the era. But the number of schools and colleges which were erected during this period, are a striking proof that the spirit of inquirj- and the love of knowledge was taking rapid and deep root in the nation. In Oxford alone seven colleges wei-e founded during this period. Unitersity HaIjL or College was founded by King Alfred, but .its foundation was overturned and its funds dissipated long TO A.D. 1309.] OXFOED AND CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITIES. 459 before this period. "William, Archdeacon of Durham, who died in 1219, bequeiUhed 31 marks to tho university, and may be considered tho founder of this college : his money was expended for this purpose. 1!at,iol College ■was founded by John Baliol, the father of John the King of Scotland, about 126S, and completed by the Lady Devorgilla, his widow. Mertox College was founded by Walter Morton, Bishop of Rochester, in 12GS. Exeter' College was founded by Walter Staploton, Bishop of Exeter, and Peter de Skelton, a clcrcrymau, in 1315. It was first called Stapleton College. Oriel College was founded by Edward II., and his almoner, Adam de Brun, about 1342, and was called tho Hall of the Blessed Virgin of Oxford, hut derived its permanent name from a fresh endowment by Edward III. Queen's College was founded by Robert Englefield, chaplain to Philippa, queen of Edward III., and named in her honour because she greatly aided him in establishing it. New College was the united guilds of Corpus Chrisli and St. Mary, assisted by Henry Duko of Lancaster. Trinity ILvll was founded about 135(t, by William Batoman, Bishop of Norwich. Gonvil Hall was founded by Edward Gonvil, parson of Terrington and Rushworth in Norfolk, about tho same time as Trinity was built. Those were for tho most part small and simple esta- blishments at first, but havo arrived at their present wealth and maguificonco by additional benefactions. Tho numbers of scholars who rushed into those schools at first was something extraordinary; nor were their character and appearance less so. They are described by Anthony a Wood as a regular rabble, who wore guilty of theft and all kinds of crimes and disorders. He declares that thoy lived under no discipline nor any masters, but only thrust themselves into tho schools at lectures, that they might pass for scholars when they were called to account by the townsmen for any mischief, so as to free t-tXV cva Matthew Paris. From a Dr.aw!nff by Himself in Royal MS., Nero, D. 1. named St. Mary's College by its builder and founder, William of Wykeham, who also buUt one at Winchester. It was finished in 13SG. In Cambridge, during this period, were founded nine colleges, namely :— Petku House was founded by Hugh Balsham, afterwards Bishop of Ely, about 1 2S2. Michael College, dedicated to St. Michael, was founded and 2udawcd about 1324, by Harvey do Stanton, ChanceUor of tho Exchequer to Edwai-d II. University Hall was founded by Richard Badew, Chancellor of the Uni- versity, in 132G, but was soon after destroyed by fire. King's Hall was buUt by Edward III., but afterwards united to THnity College. Clare H.iLL was a restoration of University Hall, by Elizabeth do Clare, Countess of Ulster, and named in honour of her family. Pembroke Hail was built by Mary do St. Paul, 1347, widow of Aymer do Valence, Earl of Pembroke, in memory of her husband, who was killed in a tournament soon after their marriage. She named it the Hall of Valence and Mary. Bennet College was founded near tho same time by them from the jurisdiction of the burghers. At one time, according to Fitz-Ralph, the Aichbishop of Armagh, there were no loss than 30,000 students— or so-called students — in Oxford alone ; but he says that thej- were again reduced to less than 6,000, so many of them had joined tho mendicant friars. Such was tho disorder of the two universities at this time, the violent quarrels, not only betwixt tho ftudents and the townspeople, but also betwixt each other, that many of tho members of both universities retired to Northampton, and, with the permission of Henry HI., commenced a new university there ; but tho people of Oxford and Cambridge found means to obtain its disso- lution from tho king. About thirty years afterwards they tiied the same experiment at Stamford, but wore stopped in tho same manner. London at this time so abounded with schools, that it was called the third university. Edward HI. built the college of St. Stephen at Westminster for a college of divinity, which was dissolved by Henry VIII. Arch- 460 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED niSTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1210 bishop Bradwardine founded a theological lecture in St. Paul's Clhurch, and John of Gaunt founded a college for diviues in St. Paul's churchyard. Thero were various schools besides these, but the most remarkable were the great schools of law, which arose out of the provisions of the Great Charter, which fixed the chief coui-ts of justice at "Westuiiuster. Sir John l<'ortescue, who studied in one of these inns of court, describes them as a great school or university of law, consisting of several colleges. " The situation," he says, " where the students read and study is between Westminster and the City of London. There belong to it ten lessor inns, and sometimes more, whioh are caUod the inns of Chancery, in each of which thero are a hundred students at least, and in some of thom a far greater number not constantly residing." In these the young nobility and gentry of England began to receive some part of their education, so that with all these colleges of learning and of law, the laity as weU. as the clergy began to reap the benefits of education. MEN OP LEARKING AND SCIENCE. Amongst the theologians of this period, none surpass for extent of learning, talent, and eloquence, Robert Grosteste, or Greathead, Bishop of Lincoln. He was originally a very poor lad ; but the Mayor of Lincoln, noticing his quickness of faculty, took him into his house and put him to school. He studied at Oxford, Cambridge, and Paris, his splendid talents acquiring him many pa- trons. Bacon, who knew him well, gives this testimony of him : — " Robert Greathead, Bishop of Lincoln, and his friend. Prior Adam do Marisco, are the two most learned men in the world, and excel all the rest of mankind both in divine and human knowledge." Greathead was one of the very few real Greek scholars of tho age, and was equally versed in Hebrew, French, and Latin. But, beyond his learning, which he has em- bodied in many voluminous works, his noble and inde- pendent character stands pre-eminent in those times. We have mentioned his opposition to the Pope inducting mere infants into church livings ; and the caution which tho cardinals are reported, by Matthew Paris, to have given the Pope when he threatened to tako vengeance on him, is romarkalile, as indicating their knowledge of tho tendency of the age. " Let us not raise a tumult in the Church without necessity, and precipitate that revolt and separation from us whioh we know must one day take place." But tho man of that time in philosophy was Roger Bacon, as Chaucer was in literature. Bacon was born near Ilchester, and educated at Oxford, and afterwards ct Paris. On his return to England, at tho ago of twentj'- six, he again settled at Oxford, and entered the order of Franciscan friars of that city, that he might study at Icisui'e. He soon abandoned the beaten track, and struck out a course of inquiry and experiment for himself. Ho was not content to study Aristotle alone at second hand, but ho mado himself master of Greek, and wont to tho foimiain head of ancient knowledge. But that did not satisfy him. He sought to make him- self acquainted with Nature, the groat fountain of all our human knowledge. Ho declared that if you would know the truth you must seek it by actual inquiry and experi- ment, lu this system, of vhilosophisiug ho preceded Francis Bacon nearly three centuries and a half; but he was before his time, and, therefore, tho benefit of his teaching was, to a great degree, lost. His great work, tho "Opus Majus," contains the result of his researches; and he states in that work that he had expended £2,000 iu twenty 5'ears on apparatus and experiments — a sum equal to £00,000 of our money at present. This ho had done through tho generosity of his friends and patrons, having made a greater amount of discoveries in geometry, astronomy, physics, optics, mechanics, and chemistry, than ever were accomplished by any one man in an equai space of time. In his treatise on optics, "De Scientia Perspectiva," ho gives you the mode of constructing spectacles and microscopic lenses. In mechanics, he talks of having ascertained by experiments wonders ttat we have not yet reached by steam ; of a mode of propelling ships so that they should require only one man to guide them, and with a velocity greater than if they were full of sailors. " Chariots," he says, " may be constructed that will move with incredible rapidity, without the help of animals." He speculated and behoved in the capabUity of raising the most wonderful weights by mechanical contri- vance, and of walking on the bottom of the sea. But, unfortunately, he has not left us the explicit exposition of these marvels. His system of chemical analysis has, however, been greatly praised by some modern chemists, and it is evident that he was well acquainted with gun- powder. " A little matter," he says, " about the bigness of a man's thumb, makes a horrible noise, and produces a dreadful corrusoation ; and by this a city or an ai-my may be destroyed several ways." He then explains that sulphui', saltpetre, and powdered charcoal are tho ingre- dients of this wonderful explosive substance. Whether Bacon discovered this mixture, or whether he learnt it iu his Asiatic reading, has boon a query. At all events, he knew tho fact, and in tho reign of Edward III. gun- powder came into use in war. Bacon was the martyr of science. Instead of benefiting by his discoveries, the ignorant monks of his order ac- cused him of necromancy and dealing with tho devil. Ho was kept in close confinement for years, and he was not allowed to send his " Opus Maius " to any one e.xcopt tho Pope. After receiving a copy of it, Clement IV. procm-od him his liberty, but he was very soon imprisoned again by Jerome de Esculo, general of the Franciscan order. Ho continued in confinement this time eleven or twelve years, and, on coming out, old and broken down by his cruel suffering, he still continued his laboui-s with undiminished ardour till his death in 1292. A kindred spirit to Bacon was Michael Scott, who wa>, born about the beginning of the thirteenth century at h's family seat in Scotland. By his studj' of astrology and alchemy, in common with Bacon and tho jreat inquirers of the time, he obtained tho reputation of a magician, which has mi.xed up his name with tho wildest popular legends and superstitions of Scotland. So strong wero tho convictions of his countrymen that he was a magician, that Dem]ister assiures us many people in Scotland in his time dai-cd not so much as touch his works. Bishop Tanner says, "He was one of the greatest philosophers, physicians, and linguists of his ago; and, though his fon'dness for astrology, alchemy, physiognomy, and chiromancy mado people think him a magician, none TO A.D. 1399.] HISTOEIANS OP THE PERIOD. 461 Bpoaks or wiites more respectfully of God and religion than he does." lie was deeply read iu the Greek and Arabic languages, and, while residing at the court of the Emperor Frederick II., he translated for that prince the works of Aristotle into Latin, to which Bacon attributes the high admii-ation which those works obtained afterwards in Europe. Duns Sootus, though supposed to be of Scotch origin, was educated at Oxford, from which seat of learning he went to Pai-is, to maintain before the university of that city his favourite doctrine of the immaculate conception of the Virgin. Ho had profoundly studied moral philo- sophy, matliematics, civil and canon law, and school divinity. No man of his age was so admired and ap- plauded, but his works now sleep, covered with the dust of ages. William of Ockham. was a very learned and eloquent theologian, who maintained the temporal independence of kings, and was supported, against all the efforts of thi-ee successive Popes to crush him, by his patron the Emperor LudwJg of Germany; but, on the death of that prince, he was compelled to recant. He did not long survive this humiliation, having for many years borne the title of the Singular and Invincible Doctor. During his life appeared "Wycliffo, who, under happier auspices, proclaimed the freedom of religion. The historians of this period, from whom, and from the parliamentary writs and statutes, our history is derived, are chiefly those : — Matthew Paris has been greatly quoted as a high authority from the earliest times to the year 1273, or to the end of the reign of Henry III. Matthew Paris, how- ever, on inspection, divides himself into three persons, all monks of St. Alban's, namely, Eoger Wendover, Matthew Paris, and William Eishanger. Matthew Paris's own share comprehends only the period from 123o to 1259, about twenty-five years. He continues Wendover, and Eishanger continues him. The work of Matthew Paris is the " Historia Major." Besides this ho wi'ote the lives of Offa I. and II., and of twenty- three abbots of St. Alban's. Wendover's chronicle, "Flores Historia- rum," reaches from the Creation to the year 1238, and is divided at the bu-th of Chi'ist into two halves. Matthew Paris, in copying Wendover, has taken care to infuse here and there his own .spirit, which was one of great freedom of remark on kings, priests, popes, and, what is singular, on the usurpations of the Court of Eome itself. Matthew had seen the world and courts, and had picked up a great quantity of amusing anecdotes and cui'ious characteristics of great men. He went as ambassador of Louis IX. to Hacon of Norway, and, at the Pope's instance, made a visitation of the monaster}' of Holm, in that kingdom. He was employed in writing history by Henry III., and even assisted by him in it. Ho says, " He wi'ote this almost constant! 5' with the king in his palace, at his table, and in his closet; and that prince guided his pen in writing in the most dUigent and condescending manner." No historian who has written of his own times has shown more boldness and independence than Matthew Paris. Though a monk, he did not hesitate to paint the corrup- tions of a monastic life in tho most plain colours, nor to denounce the corruptions of tho Church and hierarchy at large with equal honesty. For this ho has been assailed, and charged even with interpolating falsehoods by those whom his honest freedom had offended. But Matthew Paris was not onlj' a most accomplished man for that age, but one of tho most uncori-uptiblo of those who ever associated with kings and pontitl's. He is declared at the same time to have been " famous for tho puiity, integrity, innocence, and simplicity of his manners." Matthew Westminster copied Matthew Paris'a " Flowers of History," which had not then been printed. Thomas Wykes wrote a chronicle extending from tho Conquest to 1304. He was a canon in the Abbey of Osncy. The latter years of his chronicle, from 1293, are supposed to be by another hand. Walter Hommingford, a monk of the Abbey of Gis- borne, in Yorkshire, wrote a chi-onicle of about the same period with Wykes, ending 13-47. John de Trokelowe and Henry de Blandford, who are supposed to have been monks of St. Alban's, wroto histories of Edward II., as did also tho anonymous monk of Malmsburj'. Bartholomew Cotton, whose work still remains un- printed in the Cotton MS., has copied other chronicles in his earlier pages ; but the reign of Edward I. to the year 1298 is a very valuable contribution to our history. Eobert Avesbuiy, who was registrar of the court of the Archbishop of Canterbury, wi'ote tho history of Edward III. to the year 13J6. His account is most valuable. He gives us many particulars that appear nowhere else, which, as he had access to the best sources, are un- doubtedly cori-ect. They serve us to test the accounts of Froissart, who is apt to merge into the romantic. In this work of Avesbuiy's abound original letters of Ed- ward regarding the attack on Cambray in ,1336; the expedition into Brittany in 1342 ; relations of the circum- stances which led to the battle of Cre(;y by officers and eye-witnesses, and despatches from tho camps of the Earl of Derby and the Black Prince ; with similar most inte- resting and invaluable documents. Adam de Murimath wi-ote the history of Edward 11. and the earlier part of that of Edward III. He was engaged much in public affairs as ambassador, both from the clergy to the Pope at Avignon, and from the king to the Court of Eome, as well as afterwards to tho King of Sicily on account of Edward's claims in Provence. He saw much, and, as professor of civil law, was much en- gaged iu affiiirs of tho Government, but his account is somewhat meagre and diy. Besides these we may name Nicholas Trivet, who wrote "Annals," from 1130 to 1307. Ealph Higdon, whose " Polychronicon " ends in 1357, and has been translated into English by John de Trevisa. Eobert de Brunne, or Manning, a canon of Brunne, in Lincolnshiie, wroto a rhymed chronicle, including versions or appropriations of Ware's old French poem of Brut, and Peter Langtoft's French " Ehymed Crnnicall." The latter part, fiom King Ina to the death of Edward I. , has some historic merit. Henry Knyghton, a canon of Leicester, is tho author of a history from the time of King Edgar to 1395, and of an account of tho deposition of Richard II. His work is of great authority in the latter of these reigns. Thomas de la Moor wrote a life of Edward II., and asserts that he had the account of the battle of Bannockburn and Edward's last days from eye-witnesses. In Scottish history of this period, we have the " Scala- 462 CASSELL'S ILLUSTEATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. [A.D. 1216 cronica," of Sir Thomas Gray of Heton, -who -was a native of the north of England, beiag taken prisoner by the Scots. He has loft us in his " Cronicall" manj' parti- culars of the times of Wallace. Andrew Wyntown, the author of the " Orygj'nale Cronykil of Scotland," was living in the long reign of David II., and his rhymed chronicle reaches from the beginning of the 'world, in the fashion of those times, to the year 1424. He was canon history of Scotland and England, and of the literary talent of the two countries at this time. But it is to the poets of this era that -we must look ".:■ the chief genius, and the evidences of the progress of literature in the nation. It is a singular fact, that while the Eoman Church had continued the use of the Latin language during the Middle Ages, it had neglected, or rather discoui-aged, the reading of the great Eoman r.nd Ceoffrey Chaucer. cif the priory of St. Andrew. ThG portion of his chronicle from the beginning of the roign of David II. to the end of Robert U., is supposed to be by another hand. John Fordun's " Scotichronicon " is a regular chronicle of Scotland to tho year ISSJ. This -work was continued by Walter Bower, abbot of St. Columkil in the fifteenth century. Besides these tho monastic registers of Maibos, ending in 1270; of Margan, ending 1232; of Burton, ending L262 ; and Waverley, ending 1291, afford evidence of the Greek writers, so that tho Greek and Eoman classical literature became, as it were, extinct. The great classical authors which -were not destroyed, lay buried in the dust of abbeys and monasteries. So completely was Greek literature and the Greek forgotten, that, as wo before stated, we find Bacon declaring that thero were not above four men in England who understood Greek, or could pass the fifth proposition of the first book of Euclid — the familiar ^o»s asinorum, or bridge of asses. So utterly were the clergy unacquainted \rith Greek that, on finding TO A.D. IjOO] TJTERATURE OP THE PERIOD. 4G3 a New Testament amongst the books of the Eeformers, they declared that it was some new heretical language. But, as knowledge royived, the same men who were the greatest advocates for classical studies and the restoration of the classical writers to public use, were those who began also to write in their vernacular tongues ; and this was especially the case with Petrarch in Italy. Latin was the almost universal language of the learned in art, science, and literature still at this period. The works of the chroniclers were written in Ijiitin for the most part ; Bacon wrote all his works in Latin. But for some time, in all the great countries of Europe, eminent the higher classes. Eobert of Gloucester versified the chronicle of Robert of Monmouth ; Peter Langtoft, a canon of Bridlington, found his chionicle in French verso translated into English by Eobert Manning, of Bruuno, already mentioned. This was the English of that day :— *' Pcrs of LaDgtoft, a cbanon, Scharun in the house of Brifllyngton, Frankis style tbis storie ho wrote. Of luglis kinges," 4c. But about the middle of the fourteenth century Eobert Langlande, a secular priest of O.'cford, wrote a famous satirical allegory against persons of all profession?, called Iho Q ecus Lio.i, N lUanituii. authors — and especially tho poets — had begun to use their native tongues. Dante, Boccaccio, and Petrarch in Italy had set the example ; Froissart had done it in French; and now our great poets in England did the same. This was a proof that tho English language was now travelling up from the common people, and establishing itself amongst all ranks. It was no longer left to tho uommon people to speak Anglo-Saxon, now fast melting in English. The Norman nobles and gentry found them- selves speaking English, and engrafting on it many of their own terms. Metrical romances and songs bad long been circulated amongst tho people ; they now reached "The Vision of Pierce I'lownian." This is usually con- sidered the first English poem, but it is lather an Anglo- Saxori one, for the author, probably very Saxon in his feelings, has not only imitated the alliterative poetry of tho Saxons without rhyme, but he has made the language as antique as possible. This is preciselj' what Spenser did in his " Faery Queen," in the reign of Elizabeth ; he went backwards in his diction, so that now it io nearly obsolete, while the language of his contemporary Shake- speare is still sterling English, and likely to continue so. "Who could imagine that these lines were written in the same age as those which we shall place beside them by a contemporary : — 464 CASSELL'S ILLUSTRATED HISTORY OF ENGLAND. " Hunger in hast tho' hint Wastoiu* by the maw. And wrons^ him so by the wombe that both his eies watered. He bulfeted the Briton about the chekes That he loked lyke a lanteme al his life after." Take now these few lines from John Barbour of the same period : — *' Ah, freedom is a noble thing ! Freedom makes man to have liking; Freedom all solace to man g:ives ; He lives at ease that freely lives. A noble heart may have none ease. Nor nought else that may it please If freedom falL" Xow this was the work, not of an English, but Scotch poet, who wrote in English. John Barbour was born in Aberdeen in 1330. He [A.D. 1216 and that the age could procure. He was born in 1324, entered the Inner Temple at a suitable age. He rose high in his profession, and indulged himself in his leisure hours in poetry. Gower wrote, besides smaller pieces, three considerable poems, one in Latin, one in French, and one in English, namely : — " Speculum Meditantis," "Vox Olamantis," and "Confossio Amantis." There is no question that they possess much poetical merit, and they were greatly admired in their own time and long after- wards, but at present they would find few who would enjoy them. The " Speculum Meditantis " is a moral poem, recommending fidelity and mutual affection to married people ; and hence Chaucer styled him the "Moral Gower" — a name which has continued with him. He is, to our taste, more moral than poetical. Building of St. Albau's Abbey. Cotton MS., D. 1. became, under David 11. , Archdeacon of Aberdeen in 1 356, when, of course, he was only twenty-six years of age. He obtained permission of Edward III., thi-ough his own sovereign, to study at Oxford, and became famous, not only as a divine and philosopher, but as a poet, only surpassed in that age by Chaucer, and certainly far more pui-ely English in his language than Chaucer himself His great poem is the story of Robert Bruce and his noble companions, Douglas and Randolph, Earl of Moray. Of the English poets, with a reference to Laurence Minot, who celebrated the exploits of Edward III. in martial poems, and has, therefore, been styled the Tyi-trous of his age, we .shall only now mention Gower and Chaucer. John Gower was of an ancient and opulent family — wo believe the Duke of Sutherland claims him aa his an- cestor—and he consequently received tho best education Gower was originally disposed to call for reform in tho Church, which he describes in dark coloui-s ; but t!io rebellion of Wat Tyler frightened him, and he became strongly opposed to Wycliffe and his doctrines. Yet he was a timid courtier. He dedicated his "Confessio Amantis" to Richard IT., and afterwards to his do- throner, Hemy of Lancaster. " This boko upon amendemeut To stiind to his commandement. With whom min herte is of accordo, I sende unto min owne lordo. Which of Lancashire is Henry named." There can be no doubt that the successful appearance of Chaucer in his native English induced Gower to do the same. Chaucer was a far bolder, and far more original man. It is the most striking proof that English had now taken TO A.D. 1399.] ARCHITECTURE OF THE PEEIOD. ■165 its iirm hold at court itself wlion two such mon as Gower auJ Chaucor cast tho chance of tlieir famo into that vehicle. Chaucor was brother-in-law to John of Gauut, having mairiod Philippa, tho sister of John of Gauut's third wife, C'atheriuo Swinoford. Chaucer was educated at both Cambridge and Oxford. Ho was a page to Edward 111., and went as ambassador to Oonoa and Flanders. On tho foimor occasion it is probable that he met witli Petraich, for he saya in tho prologue to tho Clerk's Tale— •■ I wal jou tell a tale, wliich tiat I Lemod at Padowe of a worthy clerk, Fraunci? Petrark, the laureate poete." Chaucer's great poem, the "Canterbury Tales," is a collection of poems which, for spirit, humour, knowledge of and enjoyment of life, have nothing like them, except Shakespeare. They are full of vigoui-, beauty, and tho most subtlo sense. They sparkle, burn, and laugh on every page. We have tho most vivid picture of the Window, from Meopham. times, and all tho varied characters amongst whom he lived. Wo feel what a buoyant, genial soul ho was, and yet we know that he did not escapo without his troubles and his deep griefs. Warton, in his " History of English Poetry," says of him, " Chaucer sui-passes his predeces- sors in an infinite proportion. His genius was universal, and adapted to themes of unbounded variety. His merit was not less in painting familiar manners with humour and propriety, than in moving the passions, and in repi-e- senting the beautiful or tho gi'and objects of Nature with grace and sublimity." Truly is he called the father of our English poetry, and ho had no real successor till tho appearance of Spenser and Shakespeare. AEcniTEOTnnE. In the last chapter on this subject wo traced the pro- gress of tho Early English style from its riso and through the best period of its duration. It was there shown how, by the combining into one window two or more lancets, and the circle above them, tracery was formed. This at first was left solid and was not moulded, and the fonn of the tracery was simple — generally a circle, or circles, in the head or intersecting lines. Tho introduction of tracery gavo groat fucihties for enlarging the width of the win- dows ; and we accordingly find those of two or more lights gradually superseding tho lancet. After this change, it is ditlicult to distinguish (ho late oxani])les of one stylo from Iho carlj* ones of tho other ; indeed, tracery maj- bo regarded as the commoncemont ol the transition. But in tho beginning of the reign of Edward I. a more decided change took place — tracery proper became fully developed. But tho architects had not yet ventured on tho graceful flowing lines which tnark the true Decorated style ; they clung to their geometrical forms, and therefore wo find, in windows of this time, circles, triangles, both plain and spherical squares, quatro- foils, trefoils, &c. ; and, fur this reason, this stylo of ^^1 Win