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diff --git a/699-h/699-h.htm b/699-h/699-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..92be31d --- /dev/null +++ b/699-h/699-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,16769 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" +"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> +<head> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=utf-8" /> +<meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> +<title>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Child's History of England, by Charles Dickens</title> + +<style type="text/css"> + +body { margin-left: 20%; + margin-right: 20%; + text-align: justify; } + +h1, h2, h3, h4, h5 {text-align: center; font-style: normal; font-weight: +normal; line-height: 1.5; margin-top: .5em; margin-bottom: .5em;} + +h1 {font-size: 300%; + margin-top: 0.6em; + margin-bottom: 0.6em; + letter-spacing: 0.12em; + word-spacing: 0.2em; + text-indent: 0em;} +h2 {font-size: 150%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 1em;} +h3 {font-size: 130%; margin-top: 1em;} +h4 {font-size: 120%;} +h5 {font-size: 110%;} + +.no-break {page-break-before: avoid;} /* for epubs */ + +div.chapter {page-break-before: always; margin-top: 4em;} + +hr {width: 80%; margin-top: 2em; margin-bottom: 2em;} + +p {text-indent: 1em; + margin-top: 0.25em; + margin-bottom: 0.25em; } + +p.center {text-align: center; + text-indent: 0em; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em; } + +.smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} + +div.fig { display:block; + margin:0 auto; + text-align:center; + margin-top: 1em; + margin-bottom: 1em;} + +a:link {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:visited {color:blue; text-decoration:none} +a:hover {color:red} + + </style> +</head> +<body> + +<div style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of A Child’s History of England, by Charles Dickens</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and +most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions +whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms +of the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online +at <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you +are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the +country where you are located before using this eBook. +</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: A Child’s History of England</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Author: Charles Dickens</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: October, 1996 [eBook #699]<br /> +[Most recently updated: January 30, 2022]</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</div> +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'>Character set encoding: UTF-8</div> +<div style='display:block; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Produced by: David Price</div> +<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHILD’S HISTORY OF ENGLAND ***</div> + +<h1>A CHILD’S HISTORY OF ENGLAND</h1> + +<h2 class="no-break">By CHARLES DICKENS</h2> + +<p class="center"> +With Illustrations by F. H. Townsend and others +</p> + +<p class="center"> +LONDON: CHAPMAN & HALL, <span class="smcap">ld.</span><br/> +NEW YORK: CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS<br/> +1905 +</p> + +<hr /> + +<h2>Contents</h2> + +<table summary="" style=""> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap01">CHAPTER I ANCIENT ENGLAND AND THE ROMANS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap02">CHAPTER II ANCIENT ENGLAND UNDER THE EARLY SAXONS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap03">CHAPTER III ENGLAND UNDER THE GOOD SAXON, ALFRED</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap04">CHAPTER IV ENGLAND UNDER ATHELSTAN AND THE SIX BOY-KINGS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap05">CHAPTER V ENGLAND UNDER CANUTE THE DANE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap06">CHAPTER VI ENGLAND UNDER HAROLD HAREFOOT, HARDICANUTE, AND EDWARD THE CONFESSOR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap07">CHAPTER VII ENGLAND UNDER HAROLD THE SECOND, AND CONQUERED BY THE NORMANS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap08">CHAPTER VIII ENGLAND UNDER WILLIAM THE FIRST, THE NORMAN CONQUEROR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap09">CHAPTER IX ENGLAND UNDER WILLIAM THE SECOND, CALLED RUFUS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap10">CHAPTER X ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FIRST, CALLED FINE-SCHOLAR</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap11">CHAPTER XI ENGLAND UNDER MATILDA AND STEPHEN</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap12">CHAPTER XII ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SECOND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap13">CHAPTER XIII ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE FIRST, CALLED THE LION-HEART</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap14">CHAPTER XIV ENGLAND UNDER KING JOHN, CALLED LACKLAND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap15">CHAPTER XV ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE THIRD, CALLED, OF WINCHESTER</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap16">CHAPTER XVI ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FIRST, CALLED LONGSHANKS</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap17">CHAPTER XVII ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE SECOND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap18">CHAPTER XVIII ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE THIRD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap19">CHAPTER XIX ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE SECOND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap20">CHAPTER XX ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FOURTH, CALLED BOLINGBROKE</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap21">CHAPTER XXI ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FIFTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap22">CHAPTER XXII ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SIXTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap23">CHAPTER XXIII ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FOURTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap24">CHAPTER XXIV ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FIFTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap25">CHAPTER XXV ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE THIRD</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap26">CHAPTER XXVI ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SEVENTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap27">CHAPTER XXVII ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE EIGHTH, CALLED BLUFF KING HAL AND BURLY KING HARRY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap28">CHAPTER XXVIII ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE EIGHTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap29">CHAPTER XXIX ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE SIXTH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap30">CHAPTER XXX ENGLAND UNDER MARY</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap31">CHAPTER XXXI ENGLAND UNDER ELIZABETH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap32">CHAPTER XXXII ENGLAND UNDER JAMES THE FIRST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap33">CHAPTER XXXIII ENGLAND UNDER CHARLES THE FIRST</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap34">CHAPTER XXXIV ENGLAND UNDER OLIVER CROMWELL</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap35">CHAPTER XXXV ENGLAND UNDER CHARLES THE SECOND, CALLED THE MERRY MONARCH</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap36">CHAPTER XXXVI ENGLAND UNDER JAMES THE SECOND</a></td> +</tr> + +<tr> +<td> <a href="#chap37">CHAPTER XXXVII</a></td> +</tr> + +</table> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap01"></a>CHAPTER I<br/> +ANCIENT ENGLAND AND THE ROMANS</h2> + +<p> +If you look at a Map of the World, you will see, in the left-hand upper corner +of the Eastern Hemisphere, two Islands lying in the sea. They are England and +Scotland, and Ireland. England and Scotland form the greater part of these +Islands. Ireland is the next in size. The little neighbouring islands, which +are so small upon the Map as to be mere dots, are chiefly little bits of +Scotland,—broken off, I dare say, in the course of a great length of +time, by the power of the restless water. +</p> + +<p> +In the old days, a long, long while ago, before Our Saviour was born on earth +and lay asleep in a manger, these Islands were in the same place, and the +stormy sea roared round them, just as it roars now. But the sea was not alive, +then, with great ships and brave sailors, sailing to and from all parts of the +world. It was very lonely. The Islands lay solitary, in the great expanse of +water. The foaming waves dashed against their cliffs, and the bleak winds blew +over their forests; but the winds and waves brought no adventurers to land upon +the Islands, and the savage Islanders knew nothing of the rest of the world, +and the rest of the world knew nothing of them. +</p> + +<p> +It is supposed that the Phœnicians, who were an ancient people, famous +for carrying on trade, came in ships to these Islands, and found that they +produced tin and lead; both very useful things, as you know, and both produced +to this very hour upon the sea-coast. The most celebrated tin mines in Cornwall +are, still, close to the sea. One of them, which I have seen, is so close to it +that it is hollowed out underneath the ocean; and the miners say, that in +stormy weather, when they are at work down in that deep place, they can hear +the noise of the waves thundering above their heads. So, the Phœnicians, +coasting about the Islands, would come, without much difficulty, to where the +tin and lead were. +</p> + +<p> +The Phœnicians traded with the Islanders for these metals, and gave the +Islanders some other useful things in exchange. The Islanders were, at first, +poor savages, going almost naked, or only dressed in the rough skins of beasts, +and staining their bodies, as other savages do, with coloured earths and the +juices of plants. But the Phœnicians, sailing over to the opposite coasts +of France and Belgium, and saying to the people there, ‘We have been to +those white cliffs across the water, which you can see in fine weather, and +from that country, which is called <span class="smcap">Britain</span>, we bring +this tin and lead,’ tempted some of the French and Belgians to come over +also. These people settled themselves on the south coast of England, which is +now called Kent; and, although they were a rough people too, they taught the +savage Britons some useful arts, and improved that part of the Islands. It is +probable that other people came over from Spain to Ireland, and settled there. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, by little and little, strangers became mixed with the Islanders, and the +savage Britons grew into a wild, bold people; almost savage, still, especially +in the interior of the country away from the sea where the foreign settlers +seldom went; but hardy, brave, and strong. +</p> + +<p> +The whole country was covered with forests, and swamps. The greater part of it +was very misty and cold. There were no roads, no bridges, no streets, no houses +that you would think deserving of the name. A town was nothing but a collection +of straw-covered huts, hidden in a thick wood, with a ditch all round, and a +low wall, made of mud, or the trunks of trees placed one upon another. The +people planted little or no corn, but lived upon the flesh of their flocks and +cattle. They made no coins, but used metal rings for money. They were clever in +basket-work, as savage people often are; and they could make a coarse kind of +cloth, and some very bad earthenware. But in building fortresses they were much +more clever. +</p> + +<p> +They made boats of basket-work, covered with the skins of animals, but seldom, +if ever, ventured far from the shore. They made swords, of copper mixed with +tin; but, these swords were of an awkward shape, and so soft that a heavy blow +would bend one. They made light shields, short pointed daggers, and +spears—which they jerked back after they had thrown them at an enemy, by +a long strip of leather fastened to the stem. The butt-end was a rattle, to +frighten an enemy’s horse. The ancient Britons, being divided into as +many as thirty or forty tribes, each commanded by its own little king, were +constantly fighting with one another, as savage people usually do; and they +always fought with these weapons. +</p> + +<p> +They were very fond of horses. The standard of Kent was the picture of a white +horse. They could break them in and manage them wonderfully well. Indeed, the +horses (of which they had an abundance, though they were rather small) were so +well taught in those days, that they can scarcely be said to have improved +since; though the men are so much wiser. They understood, and obeyed, every +word of command; and would stand still by themselves, in all the din and noise +of battle, while their masters went to fight on foot. The Britons could not +have succeeded in their most remarkable art, without the aid of these sensible +and trusty animals. The art I mean, is the construction and management of +war-chariots or cars, for which they have ever been celebrated in history. Each +of the best sort of these chariots, not quite breast high in front, and open at +the back, contained one man to drive, and two or three others to +fight—all standing up. The horses who drew them were so well trained, +that they would tear, at full gallop, over the most stony ways, and even +through the woods; dashing down their masters’ enemies beneath their +hoofs, and cutting them to pieces with the blades of swords, or scythes, which +were fastened to the wheels, and stretched out beyond the car on each side, for +that cruel purpose. In a moment, while at full speed, the horses would stop, at +the driver’s command. The men within would leap out, deal blows about +them with their swords like hail, leap on the horses, on the pole, spring back +into the chariots anyhow; and, as soon as they were safe, the horses tore away +again. +</p> + +<p> +The Britons had a strange and terrible religion, called the Religion of the +Druids. It seems to have been brought over, in very early times indeed, from +the opposite country of France, anciently called Gaul, and to have mixed up the +worship of the Serpent, and of the Sun and Moon, with the worship of some of +the Heathen Gods and Goddesses. Most of its ceremonies were kept secret by the +priests, the Druids, who pretended to be enchanters, and who carried +magicians’ wands, and wore, each of them, about his neck, what he told +the ignorant people was a Serpent’s egg in a golden case. But it is +certain that the Druidical ceremonies included the sacrifice of human victims, +the torture of some suspected criminals, and, on particular occasions, even the +burning alive, in immense wicker cages, of a number of men and animals +together. The Druid Priests had some kind of veneration for the Oak, and for +the mistletoe—the same plant that we hang up in houses at Christmas Time +now—when its white berries grew upon the Oak. They met together in dark +woods, which they called Sacred Groves; and there they instructed, in their +mysterious arts, young men who came to them as pupils, and who sometimes stayed +with them as long as twenty years. +</p> + +<p> +These Druids built great Temples and altars, open to the sky, fragments of some +of which are yet remaining. Stonehenge, on Salisbury Plain, in Wiltshire, is +the most extraordinary of these. Three curious stones, called Kits Coty House, +on Bluebell Hill, near Maidstone, in Kent, form another. We know, from +examination of the great blocks of which such buildings are made, that they +could not have been raised without the aid of some ingenious machines, which +are common now, but which the ancient Britons certainly did not use in making +their own uncomfortable houses. I should not wonder if the Druids, and their +pupils who stayed with them twenty years, knowing more than the rest of the +Britons, kept the people out of sight while they made these buildings, and then +pretended that they built them by magic. Perhaps they had a hand in the +fortresses too; at all events, as they were very powerful, and very much +believed in, and as they made and executed the laws, and paid no taxes, I +don’t wonder that they liked their trade. And, as they persuaded the +people the more Druids there were, the better off the people would be, I +don’t wonder that there were a good many of them. But it is pleasant to +think that there are no Druids, <i>now</i>, who go on in that way, and pretend +to carry Enchanters’ Wands and Serpents’ Eggs—and of course +there is nothing of the kind, anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the improved condition of the ancient Britons, fifty-five years before +the birth of Our Saviour, when the Romans, under their great General, Julius +Cæsar, were masters of all the rest of the known world. Julius +Cæsar had then just conquered Gaul; and hearing, in Gaul, a good deal +about the opposite Island with the white cliffs, and about the bravery of the +Britons who inhabited it—some of whom had been fetched over to help the +Gauls in the war against him—he resolved, as he was so near, to come and +conquer Britain next. +</p> + +<p> +So, Julius Cæsar came sailing over to this Island of ours, with eighty +vessels and twelve thousand men. And he came from the French coast between +Calais and Boulogne, ‘because thence was the shortest passage into +Britain;’ just for the same reason as our steam-boats now take the same +track, every day. He expected to conquer Britain easily: but it was not such +easy work as he supposed—for the bold Britons fought most bravely; and, +what with not having his horse-soldiers with him (for they had been driven back +by a storm), and what with having some of his vessels dashed to pieces by a +high tide after they were drawn ashore, he ran great risk of being totally +defeated. However, for once that the bold Britons beat him, he beat them twice; +though not so soundly but that he was very glad to accept their proposals of +peace, and go away. +</p> + +<p> +But, in the spring of the next year, he came back; this time, with eight +hundred vessels and thirty thousand men. The British tribes chose, as their +general-in-chief, a Briton, whom the Romans in their Latin language called +<span class="smcap">Cassivellaunus</span>, but whose British name is supposed +to have been <span class="smcap">Caswallon</span>. A brave general he was, and +well he and his soldiers fought the Roman army! So well, that whenever in that +war the Roman soldiers saw a great cloud of dust, and heard the rattle of the +rapid British chariots, they trembled in their hearts. Besides a number of +smaller battles, there was a battle fought near Canterbury, in Kent; there was +a battle fought near Chertsey, in Surrey; there was a battle fought near a +marshy little town in a wood, the capital of that part of Britain which +belonged to <span class="smcap">Cassivellaunus</span>, and which was probably +near what is now Saint Albans, in Hertfordshire. However, brave <span +class="smcap">Cassivellaunus</span> had the worst of it, on the whole; though +he and his men always fought like lions. As the other British chiefs were +jealous of him, and were always quarrelling with him, and with one another, he +gave up, and proposed peace. Julius Cæsar was very glad to grant peace +easily, and to go away again with all his remaining ships and men. He had +expected to find pearls in Britain, and he may have found a few for anything I +know; but, at all events, he found delicious oysters, and I am sure he found +tough Britons—of whom, I dare say, he made the same complaint as Napoleon +Bonaparte the great French General did, eighteen hundred years afterwards, when +he said they were such unreasonable fellows that they never knew when they were +beaten. They never <i>did</i> know, I believe, and never will. +</p> + +<p> +Nearly a hundred years passed on, and all that time, there was peace in +Britain. The Britons improved their towns and mode of life: became more +civilised, travelled, and learnt a great deal from the Gauls and Romans. At +last, the Roman Emperor, Claudius, sent <span class="smcap">Aulus +Plautius</span>, a skilful general, with a mighty force, to subdue the Island, +and shortly afterwards arrived himself. They did little; and <span +class="smcap">Ostorius Scapula</span>, another general, came. Some of the +British Chiefs of Tribes submitted. Others resolved to fight to the death. Of +these brave men, the bravest was <span class="smcap">Caractacus</span>, or +<span class="smcap">Caradoc</span>, who gave battle to the Romans, with his +army, among the mountains of North Wales. ‘This day,’ said he to +his soldiers, ‘decides the fate of Britain! Your liberty, or your eternal +slavery, dates from this hour. Remember your brave ancestors, who drove the +great Cæsar himself across the sea!’ On hearing these words, his +men, with a great shout, rushed upon the Romans. But the strong Roman swords +and armour were too much for the weaker British weapons in close conflict. The +Britons lost the day. The wife and daughter of the brave <span +class="smcap">Caractacus</span> were taken prisoners; his brothers delivered +themselves up; he himself was betrayed into the hands of the Romans by his +false and base stepmother: and they carried him, and all his family, in triumph +to Rome. +</p> + +<p> +But a great man will be great in misfortune, great in prison, great in chains. +His noble air, and dignified endurance of distress, so touched the Roman people +who thronged the streets to see him, that he and his family were restored to +freedom. No one knows whether his great heart broke, and he died in Rome, or +whether he ever returned to his own dear country. English oaks have grown up +from acorns, and withered away, when they were hundreds of years old—and +other oaks have sprung up in their places, and died too, very aged—since +the rest of the history of the brave <span class="smcap">Caractacus</span> was +forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +Still, the Britons <i>would not</i> yield. They rose again and again, and died +by thousands, sword in hand. They rose, on every possible occasion. <span +class="smcap">Suetonius</span>, another Roman general, came, and stormed the +Island of Anglesey (then called <span class="smcap">Mona</span>), which was +supposed to be sacred, and he burnt the Druids in their own wicker cages, by +their own fires. But, even while he was in Britain, with his victorious troops, +the <span class="smcap">Britons</span> rose. Because <span +class="smcap">Boadicea</span>, a British queen, the widow of the King of the +Norfolk and Suffolk people, resisted the plundering of her property by the +Romans who were settled in England, she was scourged, by order of <span +class="smcap">Catus</span> a Roman officer; and her two daughters were +shamefully insulted in her presence, and her husband’s relations were +made slaves. To avenge this injury, the Britons rose, with all their might and +rage. They drove <span class="smcap">Catus</span> into Gaul; they laid the +Roman possessions waste; they forced the Romans out of London, then a poor +little town, but a trading place; they hanged, burnt, crucified, and slew by +the sword, seventy thousand Romans in a few days. <span +class="smcap">Suetonius</span> strengthened his army, and advanced to give them +battle. They strengthened their army, and desperately attacked his, on the +field where it was strongly posted. Before the first charge of the Britons was +made, <span class="smcap">Boadicea</span>, in a war-chariot, with her fair hair +streaming in the wind, and her injured daughters lying at her feet, drove among +the troops, and cried to them for vengeance on their oppressors, the licentious +Romans. The Britons fought to the last; but they were vanquished with great +slaughter, and the unhappy queen took poison. +</p> + +<p> +Still, the spirit of the Britons was not broken. When <span +class="smcap">Suetonius</span> left the country, they fell upon his troops, and +retook the Island of Anglesey. <span class="smcap">Agricola</span> came, +fifteen or twenty years afterwards, and retook it once more, and devoted seven +years to subduing the country, especially that part of it which is now called +<span class="smcap">Scotland</span>; but, its people, the Caledonians, resisted +him at every inch of ground. They fought the bloodiest battles with him; they +killed their very wives and children, to prevent his making prisoners of them; +they fell, fighting, in such great numbers that certain hills in Scotland are +yet supposed to be vast heaps of stones piled up above their graves. <span +class="smcap">Hadrian</span> came, thirty years afterwards, and still they +resisted him. <span class="smcap">Severus</span> came, nearly a hundred years +afterwards, and they worried his great army like dogs, and rejoiced to see them +die, by thousands, in the bogs and swamps. <span +class="smcap">Caracalla</span>, the son and successor of <span +class="smcap">Severus</span>, did the most to conquer them, for a time; but not +by force of arms. He knew how little that would do. He yielded up a quantity of +land to the Caledonians, and gave the Britons the same privileges as the Romans +possessed. There was peace, after this, for seventy years. +</p> + +<p> +Then new enemies arose. They were the Saxons, a fierce, sea-faring people from +the countries to the North of the Rhine, the great river of Germany on the +banks of which the best grapes grow to make the German wine. They began to +come, in pirate ships, to the sea-coast of Gaul and Britain, and to plunder +them. They were repulsed by <span class="smcap">Carausius</span>, a native +either of Belgium or of Britain, who was appointed by the Romans to the +command, and under whom the Britons first began to fight upon the sea. But, +after this time, they renewed their ravages. A few years more, and the Scots +(which was then the name for the people of Ireland), and the Picts, a northern +people, began to make frequent plundering incursions into the South of Britain. +All these attacks were repeated, at intervals, during two hundred years, and +through a long succession of Roman Emperors and chiefs; during all which length +of time, the Britons rose against the Romans, over and over again. At last, in +the days of the Roman <span class="smcap">Honorius</span>, when the Roman power +all over the world was fast declining, and when Rome wanted all her soldiers at +home, the Romans abandoned all hope of conquering Britain, and went away. And +still, at last, as at first, the Britons rose against them, in their old brave +manner; for, a very little while before, they had turned away the Roman +magistrates, and declared themselves an independent people. +</p> + +<p> +Five hundred years had passed, since Julius Cæsar’s first invasion +of the Island, when the Romans departed from it for ever. In the course of that +time, although they had been the cause of terrible fighting and bloodshed, they +had done much to improve the condition of the Britons. They had made great +military roads; they had built forts; they had taught them how to dress, and +arm themselves, much better than they had ever known how to do before; they had +refined the whole British way of living. <span class="smcap">Agricola</span> +had built a great wall of earth, more than seventy miles long, extending from +Newcastle to beyond Carlisle, for the purpose of keeping out the Picts and +Scots; <span class="smcap">Hadrian</span> had strengthened it; <span +class="smcap">Severus</span>, finding it much in want of repair, had built it +afresh of stone. +</p> + +<p> +Above all, it was in the Roman time, and by means of Roman ships, that the +Christian Religion was first brought into Britain, and its people first taught +the great lesson that, to be good in the sight of <span +class="smcap">God</span>, they must love their neighbours as themselves, and do +unto others as they would be done by. The Druids declared that it was very +wicked to believe in any such thing, and cursed all the people who did believe +it, very heartily. But, when the people found that they were none the better +for the blessings of the Druids, and none the worse for the curses of the +Druids, but, that the sun shone and the rain fell without consulting the Druids +at all, they just began to think that the Druids were mere men, and that it +signified very little whether they cursed or blessed. After which, the pupils +of the Druids fell off greatly in numbers, and the Druids took to other trades. +</p> + +<p> +Thus I have come to the end of the Roman time in England. It is but little that +is known of those five hundred years; but some remains of them are still found. +Often, when labourers are digging up the ground, to make foundations for houses +or churches, they light on rusty money that once belonged to the Romans. +Fragments of plates from which they ate, of goblets from which they drank, and +of pavement on which they trod, are discovered among the earth that is broken +by the plough, or the dust that is crumbled by the gardener’s spade. +Wells that the Romans sunk, still yield water; roads that the Romans made, form +part of our highways. In some old battle-fields, British spear-heads and Roman +armour have been found, mingled together in decay, as they fell in the thick +pressure of the fight. Traces of Roman camps overgrown with grass, and of +mounds that are the burial-places of heaps of Britons, are to be seen in almost +all parts of the country. Across the bleak moors of Northumberland, the wall of +<span class="smcap">Severus</span>, overrun with moss and weeds, still +stretches, a strong ruin; and the shepherds and their dogs lie sleeping on it +in the summer weather. On Salisbury Plain, Stonehenge yet stands: a monument of +the earlier time when the Roman name was unknown in Britain, and when the +Druids, with their best magic wands, could not have written it in the sands of +the wild sea-shore. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap02"></a>CHAPTER II<br/> +ANCIENT ENGLAND UNDER THE EARLY SAXONS</h2> + +<p> +The Romans had scarcely gone away from Britain, when the Britons began to wish +they had never left it. For, the Romans being gone, and the Britons being much +reduced in numbers by their long wars, the Picts and Scots came pouring in, +over the broken and unguarded wall of <span class="smcap">Severus</span>, in +swarms. They plundered the richest towns, and killed the people; and came back +so often for more booty and more slaughter, that the unfortunate Britons lived +a life of terror. As if the Picts and Scots were not bad enough on land, the +Saxons attacked the islanders by sea; and, as if something more were still +wanting to make them miserable, they quarrelled bitterly among themselves as to +what prayers they ought to say, and how they ought to say them. The priests, +being very angry with one another on these questions, cursed one another in the +heartiest manner; and (uncommonly like the old Druids) cursed all the people +whom they could not persuade. So, altogether, the Britons were very badly off, +you may believe. +</p> + +<p> +They were in such distress, in short, that they sent a letter to Rome +entreating help—which they called the Groans of the Britons; and in which +they said, ‘The barbarians chase us into the sea, the sea throws us back +upon the barbarians, and we have only the hard choice left us of perishing by +the sword, or perishing by the waves.’ But, the Romans could not help +them, even if they were so inclined; for they had enough to do to defend +themselves against their own enemies, who were then very fierce and strong. At +last, the Britons, unable to bear their hard condition any longer, resolved to +make peace with the Saxons, and to invite the Saxons to come into their +country, and help them to keep out the Picts and Scots. +</p> + +<p> +It was a British Prince named <span class="smcap">Vortigern</span> who took +this resolution, and who made a treaty of friendship with <span +class="smcap">Hengist</span> and <span class="smcap">Horsa</span>, two Saxon +chiefs. Both of these names, in the old Saxon language, signify Horse; for the +Saxons, like many other nations in a rough state, were fond of giving men the +names of animals, as Horse, Wolf, Bear, Hound. The Indians of North +America,—a very inferior people to the Saxons, though—do the same +to this day. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Hengist</span> and <span class="smcap">Horsa</span> drove +out the Picts and Scots; and <span class="smcap">Vortigern</span>, being +grateful to them for that service, made no opposition to their settling +themselves in that part of England which is called the Isle of Thanet, or to +their inviting over more of their countrymen to join them. But <span +class="smcap">Hengist</span> had a beautiful daughter named <span +class="smcap">Rowena</span>; and when, at a feast, she filled a golden goblet +to the brim with wine, and gave it to <span class="smcap">Vortigern</span>, +saying in a sweet voice, ‘Dear King, thy health!’ the King fell in +love with her. My opinion is, that the cunning <span +class="smcap">Hengist</span> meant him to do so, in order that the Saxons might +have greater influence with him; and that the fair <span +class="smcap">Rowena</span> came to that feast, golden goblet and all, on +purpose. +</p> + +<p> +At any rate, they were married; and, long afterwards, whenever the King was +angry with the Saxons, or jealous of their encroachments, <span +class="smcap">Rowena</span> would put her beautiful arms round his neck, and +softly say, ‘Dear King, they are my people! Be favourable to them, as you +loved that Saxon girl who gave you the golden goblet of wine at the +feast!’ And, really, I don’t see how the King could help himself. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! We must all die! In the course of years, <span +class="smcap">Vortigern</span> died—he was dethroned, and put in prison, +first, I am afraid; and <span class="smcap">Rowena</span> died; and generations +of Saxons and Britons died; and events that happened during a long, long time, +would have been quite forgotten but for the tales and songs of the old Bards, +who used to go about from feast to feast, with their white beards, recounting +the deeds of their forefathers. Among the histories of which they sang and +talked, there was a famous one, concerning the bravery and virtues of <span +class="smcap">King Arthur</span>, supposed to have been a British Prince in +those old times. But, whether such a person really lived, or whether there were +several persons whose histories came to be confused together under that one +name, or whether all about him was invention, no one knows. +</p> + +<p> +I will tell you, shortly, what is most interesting in the early Saxon times, as +they are described in these songs and stories of the Bards. +</p> + +<p> +In, and long after, the days of <span class="smcap">Vortigern</span>, fresh +bodies of Saxons, under various chiefs, came pouring into Britain. One body, +conquering the Britons in the East, and settling there, called their kingdom +Essex; another body settled in the West, and called their kingdom Wessex; the +Northfolk, or Norfolk people, established themselves in one place; the +Southfolk, or Suffolk people, established themselves in another; and gradually +seven kingdoms or states arose in England, which were called the Saxon +Heptarchy. The poor Britons, falling back before these crowds of fighting men +whom they had innocently invited over as friends, retired into Wales and the +adjacent country; into Devonshire, and into Cornwall. Those parts of England +long remained unconquered. And in Cornwall now—where the sea-coast is +very gloomy, steep, and rugged—where, in the dark winter-time, ships have +often been wrecked close to the land, and every soul on board has +perished—where the winds and waves howl drearily and split the solid +rocks into arches and caverns—there are very ancient ruins, which the +people call the ruins of <span class="smcap">King Arthur’s</span> Castle. +</p> + +<p> +Kent is the most famous of the seven Saxon kingdoms, because the Christian +religion was preached to the Saxons there (who domineered over the Britons too +much, to care for what <i>they</i> said about their religion, or anything else) +by <span class="smcap">Augustine</span>, a monk from Rome. <span +class="smcap">King Ethelbert</span>, of Kent, was soon converted; and the +moment he said he was a Christian, his courtiers all said <i>they</i> were +Christians; after which, ten thousand of his subjects said they were Christians +too. <span class="smcap">Augustine</span> built a little church, close to this +King’s palace, on the ground now occupied by the beautiful cathedral of +Canterbury. <span class="smcap">Sebert</span>, the King’s nephew, built +on a muddy marshy place near London, where there had been a temple to Apollo, a +church dedicated to Saint Peter, which is now Westminster Abbey. And, in London +itself, on the foundation of a temple to Diana, he built another little church +which has risen up, since that old time, to be Saint Paul’s. +</p> + +<p> +After the death of <span class="smcap">Ethelbert</span>, <span +class="smcap">Edwin</span>, King of Northumbria, who was such a good king that +it was said a woman or child might openly carry a purse of gold, in his reign, +without fear, allowed his child to be baptised, and held a great council to +consider whether he and his people should all be Christians or not. It was +decided that they should be. <span class="smcap">Coifi</span>, the chief priest +of the old religion, made a great speech on the occasion. In this discourse, he +told the people that he had found out the old gods to be impostors. ‘I am +quite satisfied of it,’ he said. ‘Look at me! I have been serving +them all my life, and they have done nothing for me; whereas, if they had been +really powerful, they could not have decently done less, in return for all I +have done for them, than make my fortune. As they have never made my fortune, I +am quite convinced they are impostors!’ When this singular priest had +finished speaking, he hastily armed himself with sword and lance, mounted a +war-horse, rode at a furious gallop in sight of all the people to the temple, +and flung his lance against it as an insult. From that time, the Christian +religion spread itself among the Saxons, and became their faith. +</p> + +<p> +The next very famous prince was <span class="smcap">Egbert</span>. He lived +about a hundred and fifty years afterwards, and claimed to have a better right +to the throne of Wessex than <span class="smcap">Beortric</span>, another Saxon +prince who was at the head of that kingdom, and who married <span +class="smcap">Edburga</span>, the daughter of <span class="smcap">Offa</span>, +king of another of the seven kingdoms. This <span class="smcap">Queen +Edburga</span> was a handsome murderess, who poisoned people when they offended +her. One day, she mixed a cup of poison for a certain noble belonging to the +court; but her husband drank of it too, by mistake, and died. Upon this, the +people revolted, in great crowds; and running to the palace, and thundering at +the gates, cried, ‘Down with the wicked queen, who poisons men!’ +They drove her out of the country, and abolished the title she had disgraced. +When years had passed away, some travellers came home from Italy, and said that +in the town of Pavia they had seen a ragged beggar-woman, who had once been +handsome, but was then shrivelled, bent, and yellow, wandering about the +streets, crying for bread; and that this beggar-woman was the poisoning English +queen. It was, indeed, <span class="smcap">Edburga</span>; and so she died, +without a shelter for her wretched head. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Egbert</span>, not considering himself safe in England, in +consequence of his having claimed the crown of Wessex (for he thought his rival +might take him prisoner and put him to death), sought refuge at the court of +<span class="smcap">Charlemagne</span>, King of France. On the death of <span +class="smcap">Beortric</span>, so unhappily poisoned by mistake, <span +class="smcap">Egbert</span> came back to Britain; succeeded to the throne of +Wessex; conquered some of the other monarchs of the seven kingdoms; added their +territories to his own; and, for the first time, called the country over which +he ruled, <span class="smcap">England</span>. +</p> + +<p> +And now, new enemies arose, who, for a long time, troubled England sorely. +These were the Northmen, the people of Denmark and Norway, whom the English +called the Danes. They were a warlike people, quite at home upon the sea; not +Christians; very daring and cruel. They came over in ships, and plundered and +burned wheresoever they landed. Once, they beat <span +class="smcap">Egbert</span> in battle. Once, <span class="smcap">Egbert</span> +beat them. But, they cared no more for being beaten than the English +themselves. In the four following short reigns, of <span +class="smcap">Ethelwulf</span>, and his sons, <span +class="smcap">Ethelbald</span>, <span class="smcap">Ethelbert</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Ethelred</span>, they came back, over and over again, burning and +plundering, and laying England waste. In the last-mentioned reign, they seized +<span class="smcap">Edmund</span>, King of East England, and bound him to a +tree. Then, they proposed to him that he should change his religion; but he, +being a good Christian, steadily refused. Upon that, they beat him, made +cowardly jests upon him, all defenceless as he was, shot arrows at him, and, +finally, struck off his head. It is impossible to say whose head they might +have struck off next, but for the death of <span class="smcap">King +Ethelred</span> from a wound he had received in fighting against them, and the +succession to his throne of the best and wisest king that ever lived in +England. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap03"></a>CHAPTER III<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER THE GOOD SAXON, ALFRED</h2> + +<p> +Alfred the Great was a young man, three-and-twenty years of age, when he became +king. Twice in his childhood, he had been taken to Rome, where the Saxon nobles +were in the habit of going on journeys which they supposed to be religious; +and, once, he had stayed for some time in Paris. Learning, however, was so +little cared for, then, that at twelve years old he had not been taught to +read; although, of the sons of <span class="smcap">King Ethelwulf</span>, he, +the youngest, was the favourite. But he had—as most men who grow up to be +great and good are generally found to have had—an excellent mother; and, +one day, this lady, whose name was <span class="smcap">Osburga</span>, +happened, as she was sitting among her sons, to read a book of Saxon poetry. +The art of printing was not known until long and long after that period, and +the book, which was written, was what is called ‘illuminated,’ with +beautiful bright letters, richly painted. The brothers admiring it very much, +their mother said, ‘I will give it to that one of you four princes who +first learns to read.’ <span class="smcap">Alfred</span> sought out a +tutor that very day, applied himself to learn with great diligence, and soon +won the book. He was proud of it, all his life. +</p> + +<p> +This great king, in the first year of his reign, fought nine battles with the +Danes. He made some treaties with them too, by which the false Danes swore they +would quit the country. They pretended to consider that they had taken a very +solemn oath, in swearing this upon the holy bracelets that they wore, and which +were always buried with them when they died; but they cared little for it, for +they thought nothing of breaking oaths and treaties too, as soon as it suited +their purpose, and coming back again to fight, plunder, and burn, as usual. One +fatal winter, in the fourth year of <span class="smcap">King +Alfred’s</span> reign, they spread themselves in great numbers over the +whole of England; and so dispersed and routed the King’s soldiers that +the King was left alone, and was obliged to disguise himself as a common +peasant, and to take refuge in the cottage of one of his cowherds who did not +know his face. +</p> + +<p> +Here, <span class="smcap">King Alfred</span>, while the Danes sought him far +and near, was left alone one day, by the cowherd’s wife, to watch some +cakes which she put to bake upon the hearth. But, being at work upon his bow +and arrows, with which he hoped to punish the false Danes when a brighter time +should come, and thinking deeply of his poor unhappy subjects whom the Danes +chased through the land, his noble mind forgot the cakes, and they were burnt. +‘What!’ said the cowherd’s wife, who scolded him well when +she came back, and little thought she was scolding the King, ‘you will be +ready enough to eat them by-and-by, and yet you cannot watch them, idle +dog?’ +</p> + +<p> +At length, the Devonshire men made head against a new host of Danes who landed +on their coast; killed their chief, and captured their flag; on which was +represented the likeness of a Raven—a very fit bird for a thievish army +like that, I think. The loss of their standard troubled the Danes greatly, for +they believed it to be enchanted—woven by the three daughters of one +father in a single afternoon—and they had a story among themselves that +when they were victorious in battle, the Raven stretched his wings and seemed +to fly; and that when they were defeated, he would droop. He had good reason to +droop, now, if he could have done anything half so sensible; for, <span +class="smcap">King Alfred</span> joined the Devonshire men; made a camp with +them on a piece of firm ground in the midst of a bog in Somersetshire; and +prepared for a great attempt for vengeance on the Danes, and the deliverance of +his oppressed people. +</p> + +<p> +But, first, as it was important to know how numerous those pestilent Danes +were, and how they were fortified, <span class="smcap">King Alfred</span>, +being a good musician, disguised himself as a glee-man or minstrel, and went, +with his harp, to the Danish camp. He played and sang in the very tent of <span +class="smcap">Guthrum</span> the Danish leader, and entertained the Danes as +they caroused. While he seemed to think of nothing but his music, he was +watchful of their tents, their arms, their discipline, everything that he +desired to know. And right soon did this great king entertain them to a +different tune; for, summoning all his true followers to meet him at an +appointed place, where they received him with joyful shouts and tears, as the +monarch whom many of them had given up for lost or dead, he put himself at +their head, marched on the Danish camp, defeated the Danes with great +slaughter, and besieged them for fourteen days to prevent their escape. But, +being as merciful as he was good and brave, he then, instead of killing them, +proposed peace: on condition that they should altogether depart from that +Western part of England, and settle in the East; and that <span +class="smcap">Guthrum</span> should become a Christian, in remembrance of the +Divine religion which now taught his conqueror, the noble <span +class="smcap">Alfred</span>, to forgive the enemy who had so often injured him. +This, <span class="smcap">Guthrum</span> did. At his baptism, <span +class="smcap">King Alfred</span> was his godfather. And <span +class="smcap">Guthrum</span> was an honourable chief who well deserved that +clemency; for, ever afterwards he was loyal and faithful to the king. The Danes +under him were faithful too. They plundered and burned no more, but worked like +honest men. They ploughed, and sowed, and reaped, and led good honest English +lives. And I hope the children of those Danes played, many a time, with Saxon +children in the sunny fields; and that Danish young men fell in love with Saxon +girls, and married them; and that English travellers, benighted at the doors of +Danish cottages, often went in for shelter until morning; and that Danes and +Saxons sat by the red fire, friends, talking of <span class="smcap">King Alfred +the Great</span>. +</p> + +<p> +All the Danes were not like these under <span class="smcap">Guthrum</span>; +for, after some years, more of them came over, in the old plundering and +burning way—among them a fierce pirate of the name of <span +class="smcap">Hastings</span>, who had the boldness to sail up the Thames to +Gravesend, with eighty ships. For three years, there was a war with these +Danes; and there was a famine in the country, too, and a plague, both upon +human creatures and beasts. But <span class="smcap">King Alfred</span>, whose +mighty heart never failed him, built large ships nevertheless, with which to +pursue the pirates on the sea; and he encouraged his soldiers, by his brave +example, to fight valiantly against them on the shore. At last, he drove them +all away; and then there was repose in England. +</p> + +<p> +As great and good in peace, as he was great and good in war, <span +class="smcap">King Alfred</span> never rested from his labours to improve his +people. He loved to talk with clever men, and with travellers from foreign +countries, and to write down what they told him, for his people to read. He had +studied Latin after learning to read English, and now another of his labours +was, to translate Latin books into the English-Saxon tongue, that his people +might be interested, and improved by their contents. He made just laws, that +they might live more happily and freely; he turned away all partial judges, +that no wrong might be done them; he was so careful of their property, and +punished robbers so severely, that it was a common thing to say that under the +great <span class="smcap">King Alfred</span>, garlands of golden chains and +jewels might have hung across the streets, and no man would have touched one. +He founded schools; he patiently heard causes himself in his Court of Justice; +the great desires of his heart were, to do right to all his subjects, and to +leave England better, wiser, happier in all ways, than he found it. His +industry in these efforts was quite astonishing. Every day he divided into +certain portions, and in each portion devoted himself to a certain pursuit. +That he might divide his time exactly, he had wax torches or candles made, +which were all of the same size, were notched across at regular distances, and +were always kept burning. Thus, as the candles burnt down, he divided the day +into notches, almost as accurately as we now divide it into hours upon the +clock. But when the candles were first invented, it was found that the wind and +draughts of air, blowing into the palace through the doors and windows, and +through the chinks in the walls, caused them to gutter and burn unequally. To +prevent this, the King had them put into cases formed of wood and white horn. +And these were the first lanthorns ever made in England. +</p> + +<p> +All this time, he was afflicted with a terrible unknown disease, which caused +him violent and frequent pain that nothing could relieve. He bore it, as he had +borne all the troubles of his life, like a brave good man, until he was +fifty-three years old; and then, having reigned thirty years, he died. He died +in the year nine hundred and one; but, long ago as that is, his fame, and the +love and gratitude with which his subjects regarded him, are freshly remembered +to the present hour. +</p> + +<p> +In the next reign, which was the reign of <span class="smcap">Edward</span>, +surnamed <span class="smcap">The Elder</span>, who was chosen in council to +succeed, a nephew of <span class="smcap">King Alfred</span> troubled the +country by trying to obtain the throne. The Danes in the East of England took +part with this usurper (perhaps because they had honoured his uncle so much, +and honoured him for his uncle’s sake), and there was hard fighting; but, +the King, with the assistance of his sister, gained the day, and reigned in +peace for four and twenty years. He gradually extended his power over the whole +of England, and so the Seven Kingdoms were united into one. +</p> + +<p> +When England thus became one kingdom, ruled over by one Saxon king, the Saxons +had been settled in the country more than four hundred and fifty years. Great +changes had taken place in its customs during that time. The Saxons were still +greedy eaters and great drinkers, and their feasts were often of a noisy and +drunken kind; but many new comforts and even elegances had become known, and +were fast increasing. Hangings for the walls of rooms, where, in these modern +days, we paste up paper, are known to have been sometimes made of silk, +ornamented with birds and flowers in needlework. Tables and chairs were +curiously carved in different woods; were sometimes decorated with gold or +silver; sometimes even made of those precious metals. Knives and spoons were +used at table; golden ornaments were worn—with silk and cloth, and golden +tissues and embroideries; dishes were made of gold and silver, brass and bone. +There were varieties of drinking-horns, bedsteads, musical instruments. A harp +was passed round, at a feast, like the drinking-bowl, from guest to guest; and +each one usually sang or played when his turn came. The weapons of the Saxons +were stoutly made, and among them was a terrible iron hammer that gave deadly +blows, and was long remembered. The Saxons themselves were a handsome people. +The men were proud of their long fair hair, parted on the forehead; their ample +beards, their fresh complexions, and clear eyes. The beauty of the Saxon women +filled all England with a new delight and grace. +</p> + +<p> +I have more to tell of the Saxons yet, but I stop to say this now, because +under the <span class="smcap">Great Alfred</span>, all the best points of the +English-Saxon character were first encouraged, and in him first shown. It has +been the greatest character among the nations of the earth. Wherever the +descendants of the Saxon race have gone, have sailed, or otherwise made their +way, even to the remotest regions of the world, they have been patient, +persevering, never to be broken in spirit, never to be turned aside from +enterprises on which they have resolved. In Europe, Asia, Africa, America, the +whole world over; in the desert, in the forest, on the sea; scorched by a +burning sun, or frozen by ice that never melts; the Saxon blood remains +unchanged. Wheresoever that race goes, there, law, and industry, and safety for +life and property, and all the great results of steady perseverance, are +certain to arise. +</p> + +<p> +I pause to think with admiration, of the noble king who, in his single person, +possessed all the Saxon virtues. Whom misfortune could not subdue, whom +prosperity could not spoil, whose perseverance nothing could shake. Who was +hopeful in defeat, and generous in success. Who loved justice, freedom, truth, +and knowledge. Who, in his care to instruct his people, probably did more to +preserve the beautiful old Saxon language, than I can imagine. Without whom, +the English tongue in which I tell this story might have wanted half its +meaning. As it is said that his spirit still inspires some of our best English +laws, so, let you and I pray that it may animate our English hearts, at least +to this—to resolve, when we see any of our fellow-creatures left in +ignorance, that we will do our best, while life is in us, to have them taught; +and to tell those rulers whose duty it is to teach them, and who neglect their +duty, that they have profited very little by all the years that have rolled +away since the year nine hundred and one, and that they are far behind the +bright example of <span class="smcap">King Alfred the Great</span>. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap04"></a>CHAPTER IV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER ATHELSTAN AND THE SIX BOY-KINGS</h2> + +<p> +Athelstan, the son of Edward the Elder, succeeded that king. He reigned only +fifteen years; but he remembered the glory of his grandfather, the great +Alfred, and governed England well. He reduced the turbulent people of Wales, +and obliged them to pay him a tribute in money, and in cattle, and to send him +their best hawks and hounds. He was victorious over the Cornish men, who were +not yet quite under the Saxon government. He restored such of the old laws as +were good, and had fallen into disuse; made some wise new laws, and took care +of the poor and weak. A strong alliance, made against him by <span +class="smcap">Anlaf</span> a Danish prince, <span +class="smcap">Constantine</span> King of the Scots, and the people of North +Wales, he broke and defeated in one great battle, long famous for the vast +numbers slain in it. After that, he had a quiet reign; the lords and ladies +about him had leisure to become polite and agreeable; and foreign princes were +glad (as they have sometimes been since) to come to England on visits to the +English court. +</p> + +<p> +When Athelstan died, at forty-seven years old, his brother <span +class="smcap">Edmund</span>, who was only eighteen, became king. He was the +first of six boy-kings, as you will presently know. +</p> + +<p> +They called him the Magnificent, because he showed a taste for improvement and +refinement. But he was beset by the Danes, and had a short and troubled reign, +which came to a troubled end. One night, when he was feasting in his hall, and +had eaten much and drunk deep, he saw, among the company, a noted robber named +<span class="smcap">Leof</span>, who had been banished from England. Made very +angry by the boldness of this man, the King turned to his cup-bearer, and said, +‘There is a robber sitting at the table yonder, who, for his crimes, is +an outlaw in the land—a hunted wolf, whose life any man may take, at any +time. Command that robber to depart!’ ‘I will not depart!’ +said Leof. ‘No?’ cried the King. ‘No, by the Lord!’ +said Leof. Upon that the King rose from his seat, and, making passionately at +the robber, and seizing him by his long hair, tried to throw him down. But the +robber had a dagger underneath his cloak, and, in the scuffle, stabbed the King +to death. That done, he set his back against the wall, and fought so +desperately, that although he was soon cut to pieces by the King’s armed +men, and the wall and pavement were splashed with his blood, yet it was not +before he had killed and wounded many of them. You may imagine what rough lives +the kings of those times led, when one of them could struggle, half drunk, with +a public robber in his own dining-hall, and be stabbed in presence of the +company who ate and drank with him. +</p> + +<p> +Then succeeded the boy-king <span class="smcap">Edred</span>, who was weak and +sickly in body, but of a strong mind. And his armies fought the Northmen, the +Danes, and Norwegians, or the Sea-Kings, as they were called, and beat them for +the time. And, in nine years, Edred died, and passed away. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the boy-king <span class="smcap">Edwy</span>, fifteen years of age; +but the real king, who had the real power, was a monk named <span +class="smcap">Dunstan</span>—a clever priest, a little mad, and not a +little proud and cruel. +</p> + +<p> +Dunstan was then Abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, whither the body of King Edmund +the Magnificent was carried, to be buried. While yet a boy, he had got out of +his bed one night (being then in a fever), and walked about Glastonbury Church +when it was under repair; and, because he did not tumble off some scaffolds +that were there, and break his neck, it was reported that he had been shown +over the building by an angel. He had also made a harp that was said to play of +itself—which it very likely did, as Æolian Harps, which are played +by the wind, and are understood now, always do. For these wonders he had been +once denounced by his enemies, who were jealous of his favour with the late +King Athelstan, as a magician; and he had been waylaid, bound hand and foot, +and thrown into a marsh. But he got out again, somehow, to cause a great deal +of trouble yet. +</p> + +<p> +The priests of those days were, generally, the only scholars. They were learned +in many things. Having to make their own convents and monasteries on +uncultivated grounds that were granted to them by the Crown, it was necessary +that they should be good farmers and good gardeners, or their lands would have +been too poor to support them. For the decoration of the chapels where they +prayed, and for the comfort of the refectories where they ate and drank, it was +necessary that there should be good carpenters, good smiths, good painters, +among them. For their greater safety in sickness and accident, living alone by +themselves in solitary places, it was necessary that they should study the +virtues of plants and herbs, and should know how to dress cuts, burns, scalds, +and bruises, and how to set broken limbs. Accordingly, they taught themselves, +and one another, a great variety of useful arts; and became skilful in +agriculture, medicine, surgery, and handicraft. And when they wanted the aid of +any little piece of machinery, which would be simple enough now, but was +marvellous then, to impose a trick upon the poor peasants, they knew very well +how to make it; and <i>did</i> make it many a time and often, I have no doubt. +</p> + +<p> +Dunstan, Abbot of Glastonbury Abbey, was one of the most sagacious of these +monks. He was an ingenious smith, and worked at a forge in a little cell. This +cell was made too short to admit of his lying at full length when he went to +sleep—as if <i>that</i> did any good to anybody!—and he used to +tell the most extraordinary lies about demons and spirits, who, he said, came +there to persecute him. For instance, he related that one day when he was at +work, the devil looked in at the little window, and tried to tempt him to lead +a life of idle pleasure; whereupon, having his pincers in the fire, red hot, he +seized the devil by the nose, and put him to such pain, that his bellowings +were heard for miles and miles. Some people are inclined to think this nonsense +a part of Dunstan’s madness (for his head never quite recovered the +fever), but I think not. I observe that it induced the ignorant people to +consider him a holy man, and that it made him very powerful. Which was exactly +what he always wanted. +</p> + +<p> +On the day of the coronation of the handsome boy-king Edwy, it was remarked by +<span class="smcap">Odo</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury (who was a Dane by +birth), that the King quietly left the coronation feast, while all the company +were there. Odo, much displeased, sent his friend Dunstan to seek him. Dunstan +finding him in the company of his beautiful young wife <span +class="smcap">Elgiva</span>, and her mother <span +class="smcap">Ethelgiva</span>, a good and virtuous lady, not only grossly +abused them, but dragged the young King back into the feasting-hall by force. +Some, again, think Dunstan did this because the young King’s fair wife +was his own cousin, and the monks objected to people marrying their own +cousins; but I believe he did it, because he was an imperious, audacious, +ill-conditioned priest, who, having loved a young lady himself before he became +a sour monk, hated all love now, and everything belonging to it. +</p> + +<p> +The young King was quite old enough to feel this insult. Dunstan had been +Treasurer in the last reign, and he soon charged Dunstan with having taken some +of the last king’s money. The Glastonbury Abbot fled to Belgium (very +narrowly escaping some pursuers who were sent to put out his eyes, as you will +wish they had, when you read what follows), and his abbey was given to priests +who were married; whom he always, both before and afterwards, opposed. But he +quickly conspired with his friend, Odo the Dane, to set up the King’s +young brother, <span class="smcap">Edgar</span>, as his rival for the throne; +and, not content with this revenge, he caused the beautiful queen Elgiva, +though a lovely girl of only seventeen or eighteen, to be stolen from one of +the Royal Palaces, branded in the cheek with a red-hot iron, and sold into +slavery in Ireland. But the Irish people pitied and befriended her; and they +said, ‘Let us restore the girl-queen to the boy-king, and make the young +lovers happy!’ and they cured her of her cruel wound, and sent her home +as beautiful as before. But the villain Dunstan, and that other villain, Odo, +caused her to be waylaid at Gloucester as she was joyfully hurrying to join her +husband, and to be hacked and hewn with swords, and to be barbarously maimed +and lamed, and left to die. When Edwy the Fair (his people called him so, +because he was so young and handsome) heard of her dreadful fate, he died of a +broken heart; and so the pitiful story of the poor young wife and husband ends! +Ah! Better to be two cottagers in these better times, than king and queen of +England in those bad days, though never so fair! +</p> + +<p> +Then came the boy-king, <span class="smcap">Edgar</span>, called the Peaceful, +fifteen years old. Dunstan, being still the real king, drove all married +priests out of the monasteries and abbeys, and replaced them by solitary monks +like himself, of the rigid order called the Benedictines. He made himself +Archbishop of Canterbury, for his greater glory; and exercised such power over +the neighbouring British princes, and so collected them about the King, that +once, when the King held his court at Chester, and went on the river Dee to +visit the monastery of St. John, the eight oars of his boat were pulled (as the +people used to delight in relating in stories and songs) by eight crowned +kings, and steered by the King of England. As Edgar was very obedient to +Dunstan and the monks, they took great pains to represent him as the best of +kings. But he was really profligate, debauched, and vicious. He once forcibly +carried off a young lady from the convent at Wilton; and Dunstan, pretending to +be very much shocked, condemned him not to wear his crown upon his head for +seven years—no great punishment, I dare say, as it can hardly have been a +more comfortable ornament to wear, than a stewpan without a handle. His +marriage with his second wife, <span class="smcap">Elfrida</span>, is one of +the worst events of his reign. Hearing of the beauty of this lady, he +despatched his favourite courtier, <span class="smcap">Athelwold</span>, to her +father’s castle in Devonshire, to see if she were really as charming as +fame reported. Now, she was so exceedingly beautiful that Athelwold fell in +love with her himself, and married her; but he told the King that she was only +rich—not handsome. The King, suspecting the truth when they came home, +resolved to pay the newly-married couple a visit; and, suddenly, told Athelwold +to prepare for his immediate coming. Athelwold, terrified, confessed to his +young wife what he had said and done, and implored her to disguise her beauty +by some ugly dress or silly manner, that he might be safe from the King’s +anger. She promised that she would; but she was a proud woman, who would far +rather have been a queen than the wife of a courtier. She dressed herself in +her best dress, and adorned herself with her richest jewels; and when the King +came, presently, he discovered the cheat. So, he caused his false friend, +Athelwold, to be murdered in a wood, and married his widow, this bad Elfrida. +Six or seven years afterwards, he died; and was buried, as if he had been all +that the monks said he was, in the abbey of Glastonbury, which he—or +Dunstan for him—had much enriched. +</p> + +<p> +England, in one part of this reign, was so troubled by wolves, which, driven +out of the open country, hid themselves in the mountains of Wales when they +were not attacking travellers and animals, that the tribute payable by the +Welsh people was forgiven them, on condition of their producing, every year, +three hundred wolves’ heads. And the Welshmen were so sharp upon the +wolves, to save their money, that in four years there was not a wolf left. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the boy-king, <span class="smcap">Edward</span>, called the Martyr, +from the manner of his death. Elfrida had a son, named <span +class="smcap">Ethelred</span>, for whom she claimed the throne; but Dunstan did +not choose to favour him, and he made Edward king. The boy was hunting, one +day, down in Dorsetshire, when he rode near to Corfe Castle, where Elfrida and +Ethelred lived. Wishing to see them kindly, he rode away from his attendants +and galloped to the castle gate, where he arrived at twilight, and blew his +hunting-horn. ‘You are welcome, dear King,’ said Elfrida, coming +out, with her brightest smiles. ‘Pray you dismount and enter.’ +‘Not so, dear madam,’ said the King. ‘My company will miss +me, and fear that I have met with some harm. Please you to give me a cup of +wine, that I may drink here, in the saddle, to you and to my little brother, +and so ride away with the good speed I have made in riding here.’ +Elfrida, going in to bring the wine, whispered to an armed servant, one of her +attendants, who stole out of the darkening gateway, and crept round behind the +King’s horse. As the King raised the cup to his lips, saying, +‘Health!’ to the wicked woman who was smiling on him, and to his +innocent brother whose hand she held in hers, and who was only ten years old, +this armed man made a spring and stabbed him in the back. He dropped the cup +and spurred his horse away; but, soon fainting with loss of blood, dropped from +the saddle, and, in his fall, entangled one of his feet in the stirrup. The +frightened horse dashed on; trailing his rider’s curls upon the ground; +dragging his smooth young face through ruts, and stones, and briers, and fallen +leaves, and mud; until the hunters, tracking the animal’s course by the +King’s blood, caught his bridle, and released the disfigured body. +</p> + +<p> +Then came the sixth and last of the boy-kings, <span +class="smcap">Ethelred</span>, whom Elfrida, when he cried out at the sight of +his murdered brother riding away from the castle gate, unmercifully beat with a +torch which she snatched from one of the attendants. The people so disliked +this boy, on account of his cruel mother and the murder she had done to promote +him, that Dunstan would not have had him for king, but would have made <span +class="smcap">Edgitha</span>, the daughter of the dead King Edgar, and of the +lady whom he stole out of the convent at Wilton, Queen of England, if she would +have consented. But she knew the stories of the youthful kings too well, and +would not be persuaded from the convent where she lived in peace; so, Dunstan +put Ethelred on the throne, having no one else to put there, and gave him the +nickname of <span class="smcap">The Unready</span>—knowing that he wanted +resolution and firmness. +</p> + +<p> +At first, Elfrida possessed great influence over the young King, but, as he +grew older and came of age, her influence declined. The infamous woman, not +having it in her power to do any more evil, then retired from court, and, +according, to the fashion of the time, built churches and monasteries, to +expiate her guilt. As if a church, with a steeple reaching to the very stars, +would have been any sign of true repentance for the blood of the poor boy, +whose murdered form was trailed at his horse’s heels! As if she could +have buried her wickedness beneath the senseless stones of the whole world, +piled up one upon another, for the monks to live in! +</p> + +<p> +About the ninth or tenth year of this reign, Dunstan died. He was growing old +then, but was as stern and artful as ever. Two circumstances that happened in +connexion with him, in this reign of Ethelred, made a great noise. Once, he was +present at a meeting of the Church, when the question was discussed whether +priests should have permission to marry; and, as he sat with his head hung +down, apparently thinking about it, a voice seemed to come out of a crucifix in +the room, and warn the meeting to be of his opinion. This was some juggling of +Dunstan’s, and was probably his own voice disguised. But he played off a +worse juggle than that, soon afterwards; for, another meeting being held on the +same subject, and he and his supporters being seated on one side of a great +room, and their opponents on the other, he rose and said, ‘To Christ +himself, as judge, do I commit this cause!’ Immediately on these words +being spoken, the floor where the opposite party sat gave way, and some were +killed and many wounded. You may be pretty sure that it had been weakened under +Dunstan’s direction, and that it fell at Dunstan’s signal. +<i>His</i> part of the floor did not go down. No, no. He was too good a workman +for that. +</p> + +<p> +When he died, the monks settled that he was a Saint, and called him Saint +Dunstan ever afterwards. They might just as well have settled that he was a +coach-horse, and could just as easily have called him one. +</p> + +<p> +Ethelred the Unready was glad enough, I dare say, to be rid of this holy saint; +but, left to himself, he was a poor weak king, and his reign was a reign of +defeat and shame. The restless Danes, led by <span class="smcap">Sweyn</span>, +a son of the King of Denmark who had quarrelled with his father and had been +banished from home, again came into England, and, year after year, attacked and +despoiled large towns. To coax these sea-kings away, the weak Ethelred paid +them money; but, the more money he paid, the more money the Danes wanted. At +first, he gave them ten thousand pounds; on their next invasion, sixteen +thousand pounds; on their next invasion, four and twenty thousand pounds: to +pay which large sums, the unfortunate English people were heavily taxed. But, +as the Danes still came back and wanted more, he thought it would be a good +plan to marry into some powerful foreign family that would help him with +soldiers. So, in the year one thousand and two, he courted and married Emma, +the sister of Richard Duke of Normandy; a lady who was called the Flower of +Normandy. +</p> + +<p> +And now, a terrible deed was done in England, the like of which was never done +on English ground before or since. On the thirteenth of November, in pursuance +of secret instructions sent by the King over the whole country, the inhabitants +of every town and city armed, and murdered all the Danes who were their +neighbours. +</p> + +<p> +Young and old, babies and soldiers, men and women, every Dane was killed. No +doubt there were among them many ferocious men who had done the English great +wrong, and whose pride and insolence, in swaggering in the houses of the +English and insulting their wives and daughters, had become unbearable; but no +doubt there were also among them many peaceful Christian Danes who had married +English women and become like English men. They were all slain, even to <span +class="smcap">Gunhilda</span>, the sister of the King of Denmark, married to an +English lord; who was first obliged to see the murder of her husband and her +child, and then was killed herself. +</p> + +<p> +When the King of the sea-kings heard of this deed of blood, he swore that he +would have a great revenge. He raised an army, and a mightier fleet of ships +than ever yet had sailed to England; and in all his army there was not a slave +or an old man, but every soldier was a free man, and the son of a free man, and +in the prime of life, and sworn to be revenged upon the English nation, for the +massacre of that dread thirteenth of November, when his countrymen and +countrywomen, and the little children whom they loved, were killed with fire +and sword. And so, the sea-kings came to England in many great ships, each +bearing the flag of its own commander. Golden eagles, ravens, dragons, +dolphins, beasts of prey, threatened England from the prows of those ships, as +they came onward through the water; and were reflected in the shining shields +that hung upon their sides. The ship that bore the standard of the King of the +sea-kings was carved and painted like a mighty serpent; and the King in his +anger prayed that the Gods in whom he trusted might all desert him, if his +serpent did not strike its fangs into England’s heart. +</p> + +<p> +And indeed it did. For, the great army landing from the great fleet, near +Exeter, went forward, laying England waste, and striking their lances in the +earth as they advanced, or throwing them into rivers, in token of their making +all the island theirs. In remembrance of the black November night when the +Danes were murdered, wheresoever the invaders came, they made the Saxons +prepare and spread for them great feasts; and when they had eaten those feasts, +and had drunk a curse to England with wild rejoicings, they drew their swords, +and killed their Saxon entertainers, and marched on. For six long years they +carried on this war: burning the crops, farmhouses, barns, mills, granaries; +killing the labourers in the fields; preventing the seed from being sown in the +ground; causing famine and starvation; leaving only heaps of ruin and smoking +ashes, where they had found rich towns. To crown this misery, English officers +and men deserted, and even the favourites of Ethelred the Unready, becoming +traitors, seized many of the English ships, turned pirates against their own +country, and aided by a storm occasioned the loss of nearly the whole English +navy. +</p> + +<p> +There was but one man of note, at this miserable pass, who was true to his +country and the feeble King. He was a priest, and a brave one. For twenty days, +the Archbishop of Canterbury defended that city against its Danish besiegers; +and when a traitor in the town threw the gates open and admitted them, he said, +in chains, ‘I will not buy my life with money that must be extorted from +the suffering people. Do with me what you please!’ Again and again, he +steadily refused to purchase his release with gold wrung from the poor. +</p> + +<p> +At last, the Danes being tired of this, and being assembled at a drunken +merry-making, had him brought into the feasting-hall. +</p> + +<p> +‘Now, bishop,’ they said, ‘we want gold!’ +</p> + +<p> +He looked round on the crowd of angry faces; from the shaggy beards close to +him, to the shaggy beards against the walls, where men were mounted on tables +and forms to see him over the heads of others: and he knew that his time was +come. +</p> + +<p> +‘I have no gold,’ he said. +</p> + +<p> +‘Get it, bishop!’ they all thundered. +</p> + +<p> +‘That, I have often told you I will not,’ said he. +</p> + +<p> +They gathered closer round him, threatening, but he stood unmoved. Then, one +man struck him; then, another; then a cursing soldier picked up from a heap in +a corner of the hall, where fragments had been rudely thrown at dinner, a great +ox-bone, and cast it at his face, from which the blood came spurting forth; +then, others ran to the same heap, and knocked him down with other bones, and +bruised and battered him; until one soldier whom he had baptised (willing, as I +hope for the sake of that soldier’s soul, to shorten the sufferings of +the good man) struck him dead with his battle-axe. +</p> + +<p> +If Ethelred had had the heart to emulate the courage of this noble archbishop, +he might have done something yet. But he paid the Danes forty-eight thousand +pounds, instead, and gained so little by the cowardly act, that Sweyn soon +afterwards came over to subdue all England. So broken was the attachment of the +English people, by this time, to their incapable King and their forlorn country +which could not protect them, that they welcomed Sweyn on all sides, as a +deliverer. London faithfully stood out, as long as the King was within its +walls; but, when he sneaked away, it also welcomed the Dane. Then, all was +over; and the King took refuge abroad with the Duke of Normandy, who had +already given shelter to the King’s wife, once the Flower of that +country, and to her children. +</p> + +<p> +Still, the English people, in spite of their sad sufferings, could not quite +forget the great King Alfred and the Saxon race. When Sweyn died suddenly, in +little more than a month after he had been proclaimed King of England, they +generously sent to Ethelred, to say that they would have him for their King +again, ‘if he would only govern them better than he had governed them +before.’ The Unready, instead of coming himself, sent Edward, one of his +sons, to make promises for him. At last, he followed, and the English declared +him King. The Danes declared <span class="smcap">Canute</span>, the son of +Sweyn, King. Thus, direful war began again, and lasted for three years, when +the Unready died. And I know of nothing better that he did, in all his reign of +eight and thirty years. +</p> + +<p> +Was Canute to be King now? Not over the Saxons, they said; they must have <span +class="smcap">Edmund</span>, one of the sons of the Unready, who was surnamed +<span class="smcap">Ironside</span>, because of his strength and stature. +Edmund and Canute thereupon fell to, and fought five battles—O unhappy +England, what a fighting-ground it was!—and then Ironside, who was a big +man, proposed to Canute, who was a little man, that they two should fight it +out in single combat. If Canute had been the big man, he would probably have +said yes, but, being the little man, he decidedly said no. However, he declared +that he was willing to divide the kingdom—to take all that lay north of +Watling Street, as the old Roman military road from Dover to Chester was +called, and to give Ironside all that lay south of it. Most men being weary of +so much bloodshed, this was done. But Canute soon became sole King of England; +for Ironside died suddenly within two months. Some think that he was killed, +and killed by Canute’s orders. No one knows. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap05"></a>CHAPTER V<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER CANUTE THE DANE</h2> + +<p> +Canute reigned eighteen years. He was a merciless King at first. After he had +clasped the hands of the Saxon chiefs, in token of the sincerity with which he +swore to be just and good to them in return for their acknowledging him, he +denounced and slew many of them, as well as many relations of the late King. +‘He who brings me the head of one of my enemies,’ he used to say, +‘shall be dearer to me than a brother.’ And he was so severe in +hunting down his enemies, that he must have got together a pretty large family +of these dear brothers. He was strongly inclined to kill <span +class="smcap">Edmund</span> and <span class="smcap">Edward</span>, two +children, sons of poor Ironside; but, being afraid to do so in England, he sent +them over to the King of Sweden, with a request that the King would be so good +as ‘dispose of them.’ If the King of Sweden had been like many, +many other men of that day, he would have had their innocent throats cut; but +he was a kind man, and brought them up tenderly. +</p> + +<p> +Normandy ran much in Canute’s mind. In Normandy were the two children of +the late king—<span class="smcap">Edward</span> and <span +class="smcap">Alfred</span> by name; and their uncle the Duke might one day +claim the crown for them. But the Duke showed so little inclination to do so +now, that he proposed to Canute to marry his sister, the widow of The Unready; +who, being but a showy flower, and caring for nothing so much as becoming a +queen again, left her children and was wedded to him. +</p> + +<p> +Successful and triumphant, assisted by the valour of the English in his foreign +wars, and with little strife to trouble him at home, Canute had a prosperous +reign, and made many improvements. He was a poet and a musician. He grew sorry, +as he grew older, for the blood he had shed at first; and went to Rome in a +Pilgrim’s dress, by way of washing it out. He gave a great deal of money +to foreigners on his journey; but he took it from the English before he +started. On the whole, however, he certainly became a far better man when he +had no opposition to contend with, and was as great a King as England had known +for some time. +</p> + +<p> +The old writers of history relate how that Canute was one day disgusted with +his courtiers for their flattery, and how he caused his chair to be set on the +sea-shore, and feigned to command the tide as it came up not to wet the edge of +his robe, for the land was his; how the tide came up, of course, without +regarding him; and how he then turned to his flatterers, and rebuked them, +saying, what was the might of any earthly king, to the might of the Creator, +who could say unto the sea, ‘Thus far shalt thou go, and no +farther!’ We may learn from this, I think, that a little sense will go a +long way in a king; and that courtiers are not easily cured of flattery, nor +kings of a liking for it. If the courtiers of Canute had not known, long +before, that the King was fond of flattery, they would have known better than +to offer it in such large doses. And if they had not known that he was vain of +this speech (anything but a wonderful speech it seems to me, if a good child +had made it), they would not have been at such great pains to repeat it. I +fancy I see them all on the sea-shore together; the King’s chair sinking +in the sand; the King in a mighty good humour with his own wisdom; and the +courtiers pretending to be quite stunned by it! +</p> + +<p> +It is not the sea alone that is bidden to go ‘thus far, and no +farther.’ The great command goes forth to all the kings upon the earth, +and went to Canute in the year one thousand and thirty-five, and stretched him +dead upon his bed. Beside it, stood his Norman wife. Perhaps, as the King +looked his last upon her, he, who had so often thought distrustfully of +Normandy, long ago, thought once more of the two exiled Princes in their +uncle’s court, and of the little favour they could feel for either Danes +or Saxons, and of a rising cloud in Normandy that slowly moved towards England. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap06"></a>CHAPTER VI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HAROLD HAREFOOT, HARDICANUTE, AND EDWARD THE CONFESSOR</h2> + +<p> +Canute left three sons, by name <span class="smcap">Sweyn</span>, <span +class="smcap">Harold</span>, and <span class="smcap">Hardicanute</span>; but +his Queen, Emma, once the Flower of Normandy, was the mother of only +Hardicanute. Canute had wished his dominions to be divided between the three, +and had wished Harold to have England; but the Saxon people in the South of +England, headed by a nobleman with great possessions, called the powerful <span +class="smcap">Earl Godwin</span> (who is said to have been originally a poor +cow-boy), opposed this, and desired to have, instead, either Hardicanute, or +one of the two exiled Princes who were over in Normandy. It seemed so certain +that there would be more bloodshed to settle this dispute, that many people +left their homes, and took refuge in the woods and swamps. Happily, however, it +was agreed to refer the whole question to a great meeting at Oxford, which +decided that Harold should have all the country north of the Thames, with +London for his capital city, and that Hardicanute should have all the south. +The quarrel was so arranged; and, as Hardicanute was in Denmark troubling +himself very little about anything but eating and getting drunk, his mother and +Earl Godwin governed the south for him. +</p> + +<p> +They had hardly begun to do so, and the trembling people who had hidden +themselves were scarcely at home again, when Edward, the elder of the two +exiled Princes, came over from Normandy with a few followers, to claim the +English Crown. His mother Emma, however, who only cared for her last son +Hardicanute, instead of assisting him, as he expected, opposed him so strongly +with all her influence that he was very soon glad to get safely back. His +brother Alfred was not so fortunate. Believing in an affectionate letter, +written some time afterwards to him and his brother, in his mother’s name +(but whether really with or without his mother’s knowledge is now +uncertain), he allowed himself to be tempted over to England, with a good force +of soldiers, and landing on the Kentish coast, and being met and welcomed by +Earl Godwin, proceeded into Surrey, as far as the town of Guildford. Here, he +and his men halted in the evening to rest, having still the Earl in their +company; who had ordered lodgings and good cheer for them. But, in the dead of +the night, when they were off their guard, being divided into small parties +sleeping soundly after a long march and a plentiful supper in different houses, +they were set upon by the King’s troops, and taken prisoners. Next +morning they were drawn out in a line, to the number of six hundred men, and +were barbarously tortured and killed; with the exception of every tenth man, +who was sold into slavery. As to the wretched Prince Alfred, he was stripped +naked, tied to a horse and sent away into the Isle of Ely, where his eyes were +torn out of his head, and where in a few days he miserably died. I am not sure +that the Earl had wilfully entrapped him, but I suspect it strongly. +</p> + +<p> +Harold was now King all over England, though it is doubtful whether the +Archbishop of Canterbury (the greater part of the priests were Saxons, and not +friendly to the Danes) ever consented to crown him. Crowned or uncrowned, with +the Archbishop’s leave or without it, he was King for four years: after +which short reign he died, and was buried; having never done much in life but +go a hunting. He was such a fast runner at this, his favourite sport, that the +people called him Harold Harefoot. +</p> + +<p> +Hardicanute was then at Bruges, in Flanders, plotting, with his mother (who had +gone over there after the cruel murder of Prince Alfred), for the invasion of +England. The Danes and Saxons, finding themselves without a King, and dreading +new disputes, made common cause, and joined in inviting him to occupy the +Throne. He consented, and soon troubled them enough; for he brought over +numbers of Danes, and taxed the people so insupportably to enrich those greedy +favourites that there were many insurrections, especially one at Worcester, +where the citizens rose and killed his tax-collectors; in revenge for which he +burned their city. He was a brutal King, whose first public act was to order +the dead body of poor Harold Harefoot to be dug up, beheaded, and thrown into +the river. His end was worthy of such a beginning. He fell down drunk, with a +goblet of wine in his hand, at a wedding-feast at Lambeth, given in honour of +the marriage of his standard-bearer, a Dane named <span class="smcap">Towed the +Proud</span>. And he never spoke again. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Edward</span>, afterwards called by the monks <span +class="smcap">The Confessor</span>, succeeded; and his first act was to oblige +his mother Emma, who had favoured him so little, to retire into the country; +where she died some ten years afterwards. He was the exiled prince whose +brother Alfred had been so foully killed. He had been invited over from +Normandy by Hardicanute, in the course of his short reign of two years, and had +been handsomely treated at court. His cause was now favoured by the powerful +Earl Godwin, and he was soon made King. This Earl had been suspected by the +people, ever since Prince Alfred’s cruel death; he had even been tried in +the last reign for the Prince’s murder, but had been pronounced not +guilty; chiefly, as it was supposed, because of a present he had made to the +swinish King, of a gilded ship with a figure-head of solid gold, and a crew of +eighty splendidly armed men. It was his interest to help the new King with his +power, if the new King would help him against the popular distrust and hatred. +So they made a bargain. Edward the Confessor got the Throne. The Earl got more +power and more land, and his daughter Editha was made queen; for it was a part +of their compact that the King should take her for his wife. +</p> + +<p> +But, although she was a gentle lady, in all things worthy to be +beloved—good, beautiful, sensible, and kind—the King from the first +neglected her. Her father and her six proud brothers, resenting this cold +treatment, harassed the King greatly by exerting all their power to make him +unpopular. Having lived so long in Normandy, he preferred the Normans to the +English. He made a Norman Archbishop, and Norman Bishops; his great officers +and favourites were all Normans; he introduced the Norman fashions and the +Norman language; in imitation of the state custom of Normandy, he attached a +great seal to his state documents, instead of merely marking them, as the Saxon +Kings had done, with the sign of the cross—just as poor people who have +never been taught to write, now make the same mark for their names. All this, +the powerful Earl Godwin and his six proud sons represented to the people as +disfavour shown towards the English; and thus they daily increased their own +power, and daily diminished the power of the King. +</p> + +<p> +They were greatly helped by an event that occurred when he had reigned eight +years. Eustace, Earl of Bologne, who had married the King’s sister, came +to England on a visit. After staying at the court some time, he set forth, with +his numerous train of attendants, to return home. They were to embark at Dover. +Entering that peaceful town in armour, they took possession of the best houses, +and noisily demanded to be lodged and entertained without payment. One of the +bold men of Dover, who would not endure to have these domineering strangers +jingling their heavy swords and iron corselets up and down his house, eating +his meat and drinking his strong liquor, stood in his doorway and refused +admission to the first armed man who came there. The armed man drew, and +wounded him. The man of Dover struck the armed man dead. Intelligence of what +he had done, spreading through the streets to where the Count Eustace and his +men were standing by their horses, bridle in hand, they passionately mounted, +galloped to the house, surrounded it, forced their way in (the doors and +windows being closed when they came up), and killed the man of Dover at his own +fireside. They then clattered through the streets, cutting down and riding over +men, women, and children. This did not last long, you may believe. The men of +Dover set upon them with great fury, killed nineteen of the foreigners, wounded +many more, and, blockading the road to the port so that they should not embark, +beat them out of the town by the way they had come. Hereupon, Count Eustace +rides as hard as man can ride to Gloucester, where Edward is, surrounded by +Norman monks and Norman lords. ‘Justice!’ cries the Count, +‘upon the men of Dover, who have set upon and slain my people!’ The +King sends immediately for the powerful Earl Godwin, who happens to be near; +reminds him that Dover is under his government; and orders him to repair to +Dover and do military execution on the inhabitants. ‘It does not become +you,’ says the proud Earl in reply, ‘to condemn without a hearing +those whom you have sworn to protect. I will not do it.’ +</p> + +<p> +The King, therefore, summoned the Earl, on pain of banishment and loss of his +titles and property, to appear before the court to answer this disobedience. +The Earl refused to appear. He, his eldest son Harold, and his second son +Sweyn, hastily raised as many fighting men as their utmost power could collect, +and demanded to have Count Eustace and his followers surrendered to the justice +of the country. The King, in his turn, refused to give them up, and raised a +strong force. After some treaty and delay, the troops of the great Earl and his +sons began to fall off. The Earl, with a part of his family and abundance of +treasure, sailed to Flanders; Harold escaped to Ireland; and the power of the +great family was for that time gone in England. But, the people did not forget +them. +</p> + +<p> +Then, Edward the Confessor, with the true meanness of a mean spirit, visited +his dislike of the once powerful father and sons upon the helpless daughter and +sister, his unoffending wife, whom all who saw her (her husband and his monks +excepted) loved. He seized rapaciously upon her fortune and her jewels, and +allowing her only one attendant, confined her in a gloomy convent, of which a +sister of his—no doubt an unpleasant lady after his own heart—was +abbess or jailer. +</p> + +<p> +Having got Earl Godwin and his six sons well out of his way, the King favoured +the Normans more than ever. He invited over <span class="smcap">William</span>, +<span class="smcap">Duke Of Normandy</span>, the son of that Duke who had +received him and his murdered brother long ago, and of a peasant girl, a +tanner’s daughter, with whom that Duke had fallen in love for her beauty +as he saw her washing clothes in a brook. William, who was a great warrior, +with a passion for fine horses, dogs, and arms, accepted the invitation; and +the Normans in England, finding themselves more numerous than ever when he +arrived with his retinue, and held in still greater honour at court than +before, became more and more haughty towards the people, and were more and more +disliked by them. +</p> + +<p> +The old Earl Godwin, though he was abroad, knew well how the people felt; for, +with part of the treasure he had carried away with him, he kept spies and +agents in his pay all over England. +</p> + +<p> +Accordingly, he thought the time was come for fitting out a great expedition +against the Norman-loving King. With it, he sailed to the Isle of Wight, where +he was joined by his son Harold, the most gallant and brave of all his family. +And so the father and son came sailing up the Thames to Southwark; great +numbers of the people declaring for them, and shouting for the English Earl and +the English Harold, against the Norman favourites! +</p> + +<p> +The King was at first as blind and stubborn as kings usually have been +whensoever they have been in the hands of monks. But the people rallied so +thickly round the old Earl and his son, and the old Earl was so steady in +demanding without bloodshed the restoration of himself and his family to their +rights, that at last the court took the alarm. The Norman Archbishop of +Canterbury, and the Norman Bishop of London, surrounded by their retainers, +fought their way out of London, and escaped from Essex to France in a +fishing-boat. The other Norman favourites dispersed in all directions. The old +Earl and his sons (except Sweyn, who had committed crimes against the law) were +restored to their possessions and dignities. Editha, the virtuous and lovely +Queen of the insensible King, was triumphantly released from her prison, the +convent, and once more sat in her chair of state, arrayed in the jewels of +which, when she had no champion to support her rights, her cold-blooded husband +had deprived her. +</p> + +<p> +The old Earl Godwin did not long enjoy his restored fortune. He fell down in a +fit at the King’s table, and died upon the third day afterwards. Harold +succeeded to his power, and to a far higher place in the attachment of the +people than his father had ever held. By his valour he subdued the King’s +enemies in many bloody fights. He was vigorous against rebels in +Scotland—this was the time when Macbeth slew Duncan, upon which event our +English Shakespeare, hundreds of years afterwards, wrote his great tragedy; and +he killed the restless Welsh King <span class="smcap">Griffith</span>, and +brought his head to England. +</p> + +<p> +What Harold was doing at sea, when he was driven on the French coast by a +tempest, is not at all certain; nor does it at all matter. That his ship was +forced by a storm on that shore, and that he was taken prisoner, there is no +doubt. In those barbarous days, all shipwrecked strangers were taken prisoners, +and obliged to pay ransom. So, a certain Count Guy, who was the Lord of +Ponthieu where Harold’s disaster happened, seized him, instead of +relieving him like a hospitable and Christian lord as he ought to have done, +and expected to make a very good thing of it. +</p> + +<p> +But Harold sent off immediately to Duke William of Normandy, complaining of +this treatment; and the Duke no sooner heard of it than he ordered Harold to be +escorted to the ancient town of Rouen, where he then was, and where he received +him as an honoured guest. Now, some writers tell us that Edward the Confessor, +who was by this time old and had no children, had made a will, appointing Duke +William of Normandy his successor, and had informed the Duke of his having done +so. There is no doubt that he was anxious about his successor; because he had +even invited over, from abroad, <span class="smcap">Edward the Outlaw</span>, a +son of Ironside, who had come to England with his wife and three children, but +whom the King had strangely refused to see when he did come, and who had died +in London suddenly (princes were terribly liable to sudden death in those +days), and had been buried in St. Paul’s Cathedral. The King might +possibly have made such a will; or, having always been fond of the Normans, he +might have encouraged Norman William to aspire to the English crown, by +something that he said to him when he was staying at the English court. But, +certainly William did now aspire to it; and knowing that Harold would be a +powerful rival, he called together a great assembly of his nobles, offered +Harold his daughter <span class="smcap">Adele</span> in marriage, informed him +that he meant on King Edward’s death to claim the English crown as his +own inheritance, and required Harold then and there to swear to aid him. +Harold, being in the Duke’s power, took this oath upon the Missal, or +Prayer-book. It is a good example of the superstitions of the monks, that this +Missal, instead of being placed upon a table, was placed upon a tub; which, +when Harold had sworn, was uncovered, and shown to be full of dead men’s +bones—bones, as the monks pretended, of saints. This was supposed to make +Harold’s oath a great deal more impressive and binding. As if the great +name of the Creator of Heaven and earth could be made more solemn by a +knuckle-bone, or a double-tooth, or a finger-nail, of Dunstan! +</p> + +<p> +Within a week or two after Harold’s return to England, the dreary old +Confessor was found to be dying. After wandering in his mind like a very weak +old man, he died. As he had put himself entirely in the hands of the monks when +he was alive, they praised him lustily when he was dead. They had gone so far, +already, as to persuade him that he could work miracles; and had brought people +afflicted with a bad disorder of the skin, to him, to be touched and cured. +This was called ‘touching for the King’s Evil,’ which +afterwards became a royal custom. You know, however, Who really touched the +sick, and healed them; and you know His sacred name is not among the dusty line +of human kings. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap07"></a>CHAPTER VII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HAROLD THE SECOND, AND CONQUERED BY THE NORMANS</h2> + +<p> +Harold was crowned King of England on the very day of the maudlin +Confessor’s funeral. He had good need to be quick about it. When the news +reached Norman William, hunting in his park at Rouen, he dropped his bow, +returned to his palace, called his nobles to council, and presently sent +ambassadors to Harold, calling on him to keep his oath and resign the Crown. +Harold would do no such thing. The barons of France leagued together round Duke +William for the invasion of England. Duke William promised freely to distribute +English wealth and English lands among them. The Pope sent to Normandy a +consecrated banner, and a ring containing a hair which he warranted to have +grown on the head of Saint Peter. He blessed the enterprise; and cursed Harold; +and requested that the Normans would pay ‘Peter’s +Pence’—or a tax to himself of a penny a year on every house—a +little more regularly in future, if they could make it convenient. +</p> + +<p> +King Harold had a rebel brother in Flanders, who was a vassal of <span +class="smcap">Harold Hardrada</span>, King of Norway. This brother, and this +Norwegian King, joining their forces against England, with Duke William’s +help, won a fight in which the English were commanded by two nobles; and then +besieged York. Harold, who was waiting for the Normans on the coast at +Hastings, with his army, marched to Stamford Bridge upon the river Derwent to +give them instant battle. +</p> + +<p> +He found them drawn up in a hollow circle, marked out by their shining spears. +Riding round this circle at a distance, to survey it, he saw a brave figure on +horseback, in a blue mantle and a bright helmet, whose horse suddenly stumbled +and threw him. +</p> + +<p> +‘Who is that man who has fallen?’ Harold asked of one of his +captains. +</p> + +<p> +‘The King of Norway,’ he replied. +</p> + +<p> +‘He is a tall and stately king,’ said Harold, ‘but his end is +near.’ +</p> + +<p> +He added, in a little while, ‘Go yonder to my brother, and tell him, if +he withdraw his troops, he shall be Earl of Northumberland, and rich and +powerful in England.’ +</p> + +<p> +The captain rode away and gave the message. +</p> + +<p> +‘What will he give to my friend the King of Norway?’ asked the +brother. +</p> + +<p> +‘Seven feet of earth for a grave,’ replied the captain. +</p> + +<p> +‘No more?’ returned the brother, with a smile. +</p> + +<p> +‘The King of Norway being a tall man, perhaps a little more,’ +replied the captain. +</p> + +<p> +‘Ride back!’ said the brother, ‘and tell King Harold to make +ready for the fight!’ +</p> + +<p> +He did so, very soon. And such a fight King Harold led against that force, that +his brother, and the Norwegian King, and every chief of note in all their host, +except the Norwegian King’s son, Olave, to whom he gave honourable +dismissal, were left dead upon the field. The victorious army marched to York. +As King Harold sat there at the feast, in the midst of all his company, a stir +was heard at the doors; and messengers all covered with mire from riding far +and fast through broken ground came hurrying in, to report that the Normans had +landed in England. +</p> + +<p> +The intelligence was true. They had been tossed about by contrary winds, and +some of their ships had been wrecked. A part of their own shore, to which they +had been driven back, was strewn with Norman bodies. But they had once more +made sail, led by the Duke’s own galley, a present from his wife, upon +the prow whereof the figure of a golden boy stood pointing towards England. By +day, the banner of the three Lions of Normandy, the diverse coloured sails, the +gilded vanes, the many decorations of this gorgeous ship, had glittered in the +sun and sunny water; by night, a light had sparkled like a star at her +mast-head. And now, encamped near Hastings, with their leader lying in the old +Roman castle of Pevensey, the English retiring in all directions, the land for +miles around scorched and smoking, fired and pillaged, was the whole Norman +power, hopeful and strong on English ground. +</p> + +<p> +Harold broke up the feast and hurried to London. Within a week, his army was +ready. He sent out spies to ascertain the Norman strength. William took them, +caused them to be led through his whole camp, and then dismissed. ‘The +Normans,’ said these spies to Harold, ‘are not bearded on the upper +lip as we English are, but are shorn. They are priests.’ ‘My +men,’ replied Harold, with a laugh, ‘will find those priests good +soldiers!’ +</p> + +<p> +‘The Saxons,’ reported Duke William’s outposts of Norman +soldiers, who were instructed to retire as King Harold’s army advanced, +‘rush on us through their pillaged country with the fury of +madmen.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Let them come, and come soon!’ said Duke William. +</p> + +<p> +Some proposals for a reconciliation were made, but were soon abandoned. In the +middle of the month of October, in the year one thousand and sixty-six, the +Normans and the English came front to front. All night the armies lay encamped +before each other, in a part of the country then called Senlac, now called (in +remembrance of them) Battle. With the first dawn of day, they arose. There, in +the faint light, were the English on a hill; a wood behind them; in their +midst, the Royal banner, representing a fighting warrior, woven in gold thread, +adorned with precious stones; beneath the banner, as it rustled in the wind, +stood King Harold on foot, with two of his remaining brothers by his side; +around them, still and silent as the dead, clustered the whole English +army—every soldier covered by his shield, and bearing in his hand his +dreaded English battle-axe. +</p> + +<p> +On an opposite hill, in three lines, archers, foot-soldiers, horsemen, was the +Norman force. Of a sudden, a great battle-cry, ‘God help us!’ burst +from the Norman lines. The English answered with their own battle-cry, +‘God’s Rood! Holy Rood!’ The Normans then came sweeping down +the hill to attack the English. +</p> + +<p> +There was one tall Norman Knight who rode before the Norman army on a prancing +horse, throwing up his heavy sword and catching it, and singing of the bravery +of his countrymen. An English Knight, who rode out from the English force to +meet him, fell by this Knight’s hand. Another English Knight rode out, +and he fell too. But then a third rode out, and killed the Norman. This was in +the first beginning of the fight. It soon raged everywhere. +</p> + +<p> +The English, keeping side by side in a great mass, cared no more for the +showers of Norman arrows than if they had been showers of Norman rain. When the +Norman horsemen rode against them, with their battle-axes they cut men and +horses down. The Normans gave way. The English pressed forward. A cry went +forth among the Norman troops that Duke William was killed. Duke William took +off his helmet, in order that his face might be distinctly seen, and rode along +the line before his men. This gave them courage. As they turned again to face +the English, some of their Norman horse divided the pursuing body of the +English from the rest, and thus all that foremost portion of the English army +fell, fighting bravely. The main body still remaining firm, heedless of the +Norman arrows, and with their battle-axes cutting down the crowds of horsemen +when they rode up, like forests of young trees,—Duke William pretended to +retreat. The eager English followed. The Norman army closed again, and fell +upon them with great slaughter. +</p> + +<p> +‘Still,’ said Duke William, ‘there are thousands of the +English, firm as rocks around their King. Shoot upward, Norman archers, that +your arrows may fall down upon their faces!’ +</p> + +<p> +The sun rose high, and sank, and the battle still raged. Through all the wild +October day, the clash and din resounded in the air. In the red sunset, and in +the white moonlight, heaps upon heaps of dead men lay strewn, a dreadful +spectacle, all over the ground. +</p> + +<p> +King Harold, wounded with an arrow in the eye, was nearly blind. His brothers +were already killed. Twenty Norman Knights, whose battered armour had flashed +fiery and golden in the sunshine all day long, and now looked silvery in the +moonlight, dashed forward to seize the Royal banner from the English Knights +and soldiers, still faithfully collected round their blinded King. The King +received a mortal wound, and dropped. The English broke and fled. The Normans +rallied, and the day was lost. +</p> + +<p> +O what a sight beneath the moon and stars, when lights were shining in the tent +of the victorious Duke William, which was pitched near the spot where Harold +fell—and he and his knights were carousing, within—and soldiers +with torches, going slowly to and fro, without, sought for the corpse of Harold +among piles of dead—and the Warrior, worked in golden thread and precious +stones, lay low, all torn and soiled with blood—and the three Norman +Lions kept watch over the field! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap08"></a>CHAPTER VIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER WILLIAM THE FIRST, THE NORMAN CONQUEROR</h2> + +<p> +Upon the ground where the brave Harold fell, William the Norman afterwards +founded an abbey, which, under the name of Battle Abbey, was a rich and +splendid place through many a troubled year, though now it is a grey ruin +overgrown with ivy. But the first work he had to do, was to conquer the English +thoroughly; and that, as you know by this time, was hard work for any man. +</p> + +<p> +He ravaged several counties; he burned and plundered many towns; he laid waste +scores upon scores of miles of pleasant country; he destroyed innumerable +lives. At length <span class="smcap">Stigand</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury, +with other representatives of the clergy and the people, went to his camp, and +submitted to him. <span class="smcap">Edgar</span>, the insignificant son of +Edmund Ironside, was proclaimed King by others, but nothing came of it. He fled +to Scotland afterwards, where his sister, who was young and beautiful, married +the Scottish King. Edgar himself was not important enough for anybody to care +much about him. +</p> + +<p> +On Christmas Day, William was crowned in Westminster Abbey, under the title of +<span class="smcap">William the First</span>; but he is best known as <span +class="smcap">William the Conqueror</span>. It was a strange coronation. One of +the bishops who performed the ceremony asked the Normans, in French, if they +would have Duke William for their king? They answered Yes. Another of the +bishops put the same question to the Saxons, in English. They too answered Yes, +with a loud shout. The noise being heard by a guard of Norman horse-soldiers +outside, was mistaken for resistance on the part of the English. The guard +instantly set fire to the neighbouring houses, and a tumult ensued; in the +midst of which the King, being left alone in the Abbey, with a few priests (and +they all being in a terrible fright together), was hurriedly crowned. When the +crown was placed upon his head, he swore to govern the English as well as the +best of their own monarchs. I dare say you think, as I do, that if we except +the Great Alfred, he might pretty easily have done that. +</p> + +<p> +Numbers of the English nobles had been killed in the last disastrous battle. +Their estates, and the estates of all the nobles who had fought against him +there, King William seized upon, and gave to his own Norman knights and nobles. +Many great English families of the present time acquired their English lands in +this way, and are very proud of it. +</p> + +<p> +But what is got by force must be maintained by force. These nobles were obliged +to build castles all over England, to defend their new property; and, do what +he would, the King could neither soothe nor quell the nation as he wished. He +gradually introduced the Norman language and the Norman customs; yet, for a +long time the great body of the English remained sullen and revengeful. On his +going over to Normandy, to visit his subjects there, the oppressions of his +half-brother <span class="smcap">Odo</span>, whom he left in charge of his +English kingdom, drove the people mad. The men of Kent even invited over, to +take possession of Dover, their old enemy Count Eustace of Boulogne, who had +led the fray when the Dover man was slain at his own fireside. The men of +Hereford, aided by the Welsh, and commanded by a chief named <span +class="smcap">Edric the Wild</span>, drove the Normans out of their country. +Some of those who had been dispossessed of their lands, banded together in the +North of England; some, in Scotland; some, in the thick woods and marshes; and +whensoever they could fall upon the Normans, or upon the English who had +submitted to the Normans, they fought, despoiled, and murdered, like the +desperate outlaws that they were. Conspiracies were set on foot for a general +massacre of the Normans, like the old massacre of the Danes. In short, the +English were in a murderous mood all through the kingdom. +</p> + +<p> +King William, fearing he might lose his conquest, came back, and tried to +pacify the London people by soft words. He then set forth to repress the +country people by stern deeds. Among the towns which he besieged, and where he +killed and maimed the inhabitants without any distinction, sparing none, young +or old, armed or unarmed, were Oxford, Warwick, Leicester, Nottingham, Derby, +Lincoln, York. In all these places, and in many others, fire and sword worked +their utmost horrors, and made the land dreadful to behold. The streams and +rivers were discoloured with blood; the sky was blackened with smoke; the +fields were wastes of ashes; the waysides were heaped up with dead. Such are +the fatal results of conquest and ambition! Although William was a harsh and +angry man, I do not suppose that he deliberately meant to work this shocking +ruin, when he invaded England. But what he had got by the strong hand, he could +only keep by the strong hand, and in so doing he made England a great grave. +</p> + +<p> +Two sons of Harold, by name <span class="smcap">Edmund</span> and <span +class="smcap">Godwin</span>, came over from Ireland, with some ships, against +the Normans, but were defeated. This was scarcely done, when the outlaws in the +woods so harassed York, that the Governor sent to the King for help. The King +despatched a general and a large force to occupy the town of Durham. The Bishop +of that place met the general outside the town, and warned him not to enter, as +he would be in danger there. The general cared nothing for the warning, and +went in with all his men. That night, on every hill within sight of Durham, +signal fires were seen to blaze. When the morning dawned, the English, who had +assembled in great strength, forced the gates, rushed into the town, and slew +the Normans every one. The English afterwards besought the Danes to come and +help them. The Danes came, with two hundred and forty ships. The outlawed +nobles joined them; they captured York, and drove the Normans out of that city. +Then, William bribed the Danes to go away; and took such vengeance on the +English, that all the former fire and sword, smoke and ashes, death and ruin, +were nothing compared with it. In melancholy songs, and doleful stories, it was +still sung and told by cottage fires on winter evenings, a hundred years +afterwards, how, in those dreadful days of the Normans, there was not, from the +River Humber to the River Tyne, one inhabited village left, nor one cultivated +field—how there was nothing but a dismal ruin, where the human creatures +and the beasts lay dead together. +</p> + +<p> +The outlaws had, at this time, what they called a Camp of Refuge, in the midst +of the fens of Cambridgeshire. Protected by those marshy grounds which were +difficult of approach, they lay among the reeds and rushes, and were hidden by +the mists that rose up from the watery earth. Now, there also was, at that +time, over the sea in Flanders, an Englishman named <span +class="smcap">Hereward</span>, whose father had died in his absence, and whose +property had been given to a Norman. When he heard of this wrong that had been +done him (from such of the exiled English as chanced to wander into that +country), he longed for revenge; and joining the outlaws in their camp of +refuge, became their commander. He was so good a soldier, that the Normans +supposed him to be aided by enchantment. William, even after he had made a road +three miles in length across the Cambridgeshire marshes, on purpose to attack +this supposed enchanter, thought it necessary to engage an old lady, who +pretended to be a sorceress, to come and do a little enchantment in the royal +cause. For this purpose she was pushed on before the troops in a wooden tower; +but Hereward very soon disposed of this unfortunate sorceress, by burning her, +tower and all. The monks of the convent of Ely near at hand, however, who were +fond of good living, and who found it very uncomfortable to have the country +blockaded and their supplies of meat and drink cut off, showed the King a +secret way of surprising the camp. So Hereward was soon defeated. Whether he +afterwards died quietly, or whether he was killed after killing sixteen of the +men who attacked him (as some old rhymes relate that he did), I cannot say. His +defeat put an end to the Camp of Refuge; and, very soon afterwards, the King, +victorious both in Scotland and in England, quelled the last rebellious English +noble. He then surrounded himself with Norman lords, enriched by the property +of English nobles; had a great survey made of all the land in England, which +was entered as the property of its new owners, on a roll called Doomsday Book; +obliged the people to put out their fires and candles at a certain hour every +night, on the ringing of a bell which was called The Curfew; introduced the +Norman dresses and manners; made the Normans masters everywhere, and the +English, servants; turned out the English bishops, and put Normans in their +places; and showed himself to be the Conqueror indeed. +</p> + +<p> +But, even with his own Normans, he had a restless life. They were always +hungering and thirsting for the riches of the English; and the more he gave, +the more they wanted. His priests were as greedy as his soldiers. We know of +only one Norman who plainly told his master, the King, that he had come with +him to England to do his duty as a faithful servant, and that property taken by +force from other men had no charms for him. His name was <span +class="smcap">Guilbert</span>. We should not forget his name, for it is good to +remember and to honour honest men. +</p> + +<p> +Besides all these troubles, William the Conqueror was troubled by quarrels +among his sons. He had three living. <span class="smcap">Robert</span>, called +<span class="smcap">Curthose</span>, because of his short legs; <span +class="smcap">William</span>, called <span class="smcap">Rufus</span> or the +Red, from the colour of his hair; and <span class="smcap">Henry</span>, fond of +learning, and called, in the Norman language, <span +class="smcap">Beauclerc</span>, or Fine-Scholar. When Robert grew up, he asked +of his father the government of Normandy, which he had nominally possessed, as +a child, under his mother, <span class="smcap">Matilda</span>. The King +refusing to grant it, Robert became jealous and discontented; and happening one +day, while in this temper, to be ridiculed by his brothers, who threw water on +him from a balcony as he was walking before the door, he drew his sword, rushed +up-stairs, and was only prevented by the King himself from putting them to +death. That same night, he hotly departed with some followers from his +father’s court, and endeavoured to take the Castle of Rouen by surprise. +Failing in this, he shut himself up in another Castle in Normandy, which the +King besieged, and where Robert one day unhorsed and nearly killed him without +knowing who he was. His submission when he discovered his father, and the +intercession of the queen and others, reconciled them; but not soundly; for +Robert soon strayed abroad, and went from court to court with his complaints. +He was a gay, careless, thoughtless fellow, spending all he got on musicians +and dancers; but his mother loved him, and often, against the King’s +command, supplied him with money through a messenger named <span +class="smcap">Samson</span>. At length the incensed King swore he would tear +out Samson’s eyes; and Samson, thinking that his only hope of safety was +in becoming a monk, became one, went on such errands no more, and kept his eyes +in his head. +</p> + +<p> +All this time, from the turbulent day of his strange coronation, the Conqueror +had been struggling, you see, at any cost of cruelty and bloodshed, to maintain +what he had seized. All his reign, he struggled still, with the same object +ever before him. He was a stern, bold man, and he succeeded in it. +</p> + +<p> +He loved money, and was particular in his eating, but he had only leisure to +indulge one other passion, and that was his love of hunting. He carried it to +such a height that he ordered whole villages and towns to be swept away to make +forests for the deer. Not satisfied with sixty-eight Royal Forests, he laid +waste an immense district, to form another in Hampshire, called the New Forest. +The many thousands of miserable peasants who saw their little houses pulled +down, and themselves and children turned into the open country without a +shelter, detested him for his merciless addition to their many sufferings; and +when, in the twenty-first year of his reign (which proved to be the last), he +went over to Rouen, England was as full of hatred against him, as if every leaf +on every tree in all his Royal Forests had been a curse upon his head. In the +New Forest, his son Richard (for he had four sons) had been gored to death by a +Stag; and the people said that this so cruelly-made Forest would yet be fatal +to others of the Conqueror’s race. +</p> + +<p> +He was engaged in a dispute with the King of France about some territory. While +he stayed at Rouen, negotiating with that King, he kept his bed and took +medicines: being advised by his physicians to do so, on account of having grown +to an unwieldy size. Word being brought to him that the King of France made +light of this, and joked about it, he swore in a great rage that he should rue +his jests. He assembled his army, marched into the disputed territory, +burnt—his old way!—the vines, the crops, and fruit, and set the +town of Mantes on fire. But, in an evil hour; for, as he rode over the hot +ruins, his horse, setting his hoofs upon some burning embers, started, threw +him forward against the pommel of the saddle, and gave him a mortal hurt. For +six weeks he lay dying in a monastery near Rouen, and then made his will, +giving England to William, Normandy to Robert, and five thousand pounds to +Henry. And now, his violent deeds lay heavy on his mind. He ordered money to be +given to many English churches and monasteries, and—which was much better +repentance—released his prisoners of state, some of whom had been +confined in his dungeons twenty years. +</p> + +<p> +It was a September morning, and the sun was rising, when the King was awakened +from slumber by the sound of a church bell. ‘What bell is that?’ he +faintly asked. They told him it was the bell of the chapel of Saint Mary. +‘I commend my soul,’ said he, ‘to Mary!’ and died. +</p> + +<p> +Think of his name, The Conqueror, and then consider how he lay in death! The +moment he was dead, his physicians, priests, and nobles, not knowing what +contest for the throne might now take place, or what might happen in it, +hastened away, each man for himself and his own property; the mercenary +servants of the court began to rob and plunder; the body of the King, in the +indecent strife, was rolled from the bed, and lay alone, for hours, upon the +ground. O Conqueror, of whom so many great names are proud now, of whom so many +great names thought nothing then, it were better to have conquered one true +heart, than England! +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by, the priests came creeping in with prayers and candles; and a good +knight, named <span class="smcap">Herluin</span>, undertook (which no one else +would do) to convey the body to Caen, in Normandy, in order that it might be +buried in St. Stephen’s church there, which the Conqueror had founded. +But fire, of which he had made such bad use in his life, seemed to follow him +of itself in death. A great conflagration broke out in the town when the body +was placed in the church; and those present running out to extinguish the +flames, it was once again left alone. +</p> + +<p> +It was not even buried in peace. It was about to be let down, in its Royal +robes, into a tomb near the high altar, in presence of a great concourse of +people, when a loud voice in the crowd cried out, ‘This ground is mine! +Upon it, stood my father’s house. This King despoiled me of both ground +and house to build this church. In the great name of <span +class="smcap">God</span>, I here forbid his body to be covered with the earth +that is my right!’ The priests and bishops present, knowing the +speaker’s right, and knowing that the King had often denied him justice, +paid him down sixty shillings for the grave. Even then, the corpse was not at +rest. The tomb was too small, and they tried to force it in. It broke, a +dreadful smell arose, the people hurried out into the air, and, for the third +time, it was left alone. +</p> + +<p> +Where were the Conqueror’s three sons, that they were not at their +father’s burial? Robert was lounging among minstrels, dancers, and +gamesters, in France or Germany. Henry was carrying his five thousand pounds +safely away in a convenient chest he had got made. William the Red was hurrying +to England, to lay hands upon the Royal treasure and the crown. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap09"></a>CHAPTER IX<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER WILLIAM THE SECOND, CALLED RUFUS</h2> + +<p> +William the Red, in breathless haste, secured the three great forts of Dover, +Pevensey, and Hastings, and made with hot speed for Winchester, where the Royal +treasure was kept. The treasurer delivering him the keys, he found that it +amounted to sixty thousand pounds in silver, besides gold and jewels. Possessed +of this wealth, he soon persuaded the Archbishop of Canterbury to crown him, +and became William the Second, King of England. +</p> + +<p> +Rufus was no sooner on the throne, than he ordered into prison again the +unhappy state captives whom his father had set free, and directed a goldsmith +to ornament his father’s tomb profusely with gold and silver. It would +have been more dutiful in him to have attended the sick Conqueror when he was +dying; but England itself, like this Red King, who once governed it, has +sometimes made expensive tombs for dead men whom it treated shabbily when they +were alive. +</p> + +<p> +The King’s brother, Robert of Normandy, seeming quite content to be only +Duke of that country; and the King’s other brother, Fine-Scholar, being +quiet enough with his five thousand pounds in a chest; the King flattered +himself, we may suppose, with the hope of an easy reign. But easy reigns were +difficult to have in those days. The turbulent Bishop <span +class="smcap">Odo</span> (who had blessed the Norman army at the Battle of +Hastings, and who, I dare say, took all the credit of the victory to himself) +soon began, in concert with some powerful Norman nobles, to trouble the Red +King. +</p> + +<p> +The truth seems to be that this bishop and his friends, who had lands in +England and lands in Normandy, wished to hold both under one Sovereign; and +greatly preferred a thoughtless good-natured person, such as Robert was, to +Rufus; who, though far from being an amiable man in any respect, was keen, and +not to be imposed upon. They declared in Robert’s favour, and retired to +their castles (those castles were very troublesome to kings) in a sullen +humour. The Red King, seeing the Normans thus falling from him, revenged +himself upon them by appealing to the English; to whom he made a variety of +promises, which he never meant to perform—in particular, promises to +soften the cruelty of the Forest Laws; and who, in return, so aided him with +their valour, that <span class="smcap">Odo</span> was besieged in the Castle of +Rochester, and forced to abandon it, and to depart from England for ever: +whereupon the other rebellious Norman nobles were soon reduced and scattered. +</p> + +<p> +Then, the Red King went over to Normandy, where the people suffered greatly +under the loose rule of Duke Robert. The King’s object was to seize upon +the Duke’s dominions. This, the Duke, of course, prepared to resist; and +miserable war between the two brothers seemed inevitable, when the powerful +nobles on both sides, who had seen so much of war, interfered to prevent it. A +treaty was made. Each of the two brothers agreed to give up something of his +claims, and that the longer-liver of the two should inherit all the dominions +of the other. When they had come to this loving understanding, they embraced +and joined their forces against Fine-Scholar; who had bought some territory of +Robert with a part of his five thousand pounds, and was considered a dangerous +individual in consequence. +</p> + +<p> +St. Michael’s Mount, in Normandy (there is another St. Michael’s +Mount, in Cornwall, wonderfully like it), was then, as it is now, a strong +place perched upon the top of a high rock, around which, when the tide is in, +the sea flows, leaving no road to the mainland. In this place, Fine-Scholar +shut himself up with his soldiers, and here he was closely besieged by his two +brothers. At one time, when he was reduced to great distress for want of water, +the generous Robert not only permitted his men to get water, but sent +Fine-Scholar wine from his own table; and, on being remonstrated with by the +Red King, said ‘What! shall we let our own brother die of thirst? Where +shall we get another, when he is gone?’ At another time, the Red King +riding alone on the shore of the bay, looking up at the Castle, was taken by +two of Fine-Scholar’s men, one of whom was about to kill him, when he +cried out, ‘Hold, knave! I am the King of England!’ The story says +that the soldier raised him from the ground respectfully and humbly, and that +the King took him into his service. The story may or may not be true; but at +any rate it is true that Fine-Scholar could not hold out against his united +brothers, and that he abandoned Mount St. Michael, and wandered about—as +poor and forlorn as other scholars have been sometimes known to be. +</p> + +<p> +The Scotch became unquiet in the Red King’s time, and were twice +defeated—the second time, with the loss of their King, Malcolm, and his +son. The Welsh became unquiet too. Against them, Rufus was less successful; for +they fought among their native mountains, and did great execution on the +King’s troops. Robert of Normandy became unquiet too; and, complaining +that his brother the King did not faithfully perform his part of their +agreement, took up arms, and obtained assistance from the King of France, whom +Rufus, in the end, bought off with vast sums of money. England became unquiet +too. Lord Mowbray, the powerful Earl of Northumberland, headed a great +conspiracy to depose the King, and to place upon the throne, <span +class="smcap">Stephen</span>, the Conqueror’s near relative. The plot was +discovered; all the chief conspirators were seized; some were fined, some were +put in prison, some were put to death. The Earl of Northumberland himself was +shut up in a dungeon beneath Windsor Castle, where he died, an old man, thirty +long years afterwards. The Priests in England were more unquiet than any other +class or power; for the Red King treated them with such small ceremony that he +refused to appoint new bishops or archbishops when the old ones died, but kept +all the wealth belonging to those offices in his own hands. In return for this, +the Priests wrote his life when he was dead, and abused him well. I am inclined +to think, myself, that there was little to choose between the Priests and the +Red King; that both sides were greedy and designing; and that they were fairly +matched. +</p> + +<p> +The Red King was false of heart, selfish, covetous, and mean. He had a worthy +minister in his favourite, Ralph, nicknamed—for almost every famous +person had a nickname in those rough days—Flambard, or the Firebrand. +Once, the King being ill, became penitent, and made <span +class="smcap">Anselm</span>, a foreign priest and a good man, Archbishop of +Canterbury. But he no sooner got well again than he repented of his repentance, +and persisted in wrongfully keeping to himself some of the wealth belonging to +the archbishopric. This led to violent disputes, which were aggravated by there +being in Rome at that time two rival Popes; each of whom declared he was the +only real original infallible Pope, who couldn’t make a mistake. At last, +Anselm, knowing the Red King’s character, and not feeling himself safe in +England, asked leave to return abroad. The Red King gladly gave it; for he knew +that as soon as Anselm was gone, he could begin to store up all the Canterbury +money again, for his own use. +</p> + +<p> +By such means, and by taxing and oppressing the English people in every +possible way, the Red King became very rich. When he wanted money for any +purpose, he raised it by some means or other, and cared nothing for the +injustice he did, or the misery he caused. Having the opportunity of buying +from Robert the whole duchy of Normandy for five years, he taxed the English +people more than ever, and made the very convents sell their plate and +valuables to supply him with the means to make the purchase. But he was as +quick and eager in putting down revolt as he was in raising money; for, a part +of the Norman people objecting—very naturally, I think—to being +sold in this way, he headed an army against them with all the speed and energy +of his father. He was so impatient, that he embarked for Normandy in a great +gale of wind. And when the sailors told him it was dangerous to go to sea in +such angry weather, he replied, ‘Hoist sail and away! Did you ever hear +of a king who was drowned?’ +</p> + +<p> +You will wonder how it was that even the careless Robert came to sell his +dominions. It happened thus. It had long been the custom for many English +people to make journeys to Jerusalem, which were called pilgrimages, in order +that they might pray beside the tomb of Our Saviour there. Jerusalem belonging +to the Turks, and the Turks hating Christianity, these Christian travellers +were often insulted and ill used. The Pilgrims bore it patiently for some time, +but at length a remarkable man, of great earnestness and eloquence, called +<span class="smcap">Peter the Hermit</span>, began to preach in various places +against the Turks, and to declare that it was the duty of good Christians to +drive away those unbelievers from the tomb of Our Saviour, and to take +possession of it, and protect it. An excitement such as the world had never +known before was created. Thousands and thousands of men of all ranks and +conditions departed for Jerusalem to make war against the Turks. The war is +called in history the first Crusade, and every Crusader wore a cross marked on +his right shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +All the Crusaders were not zealous Christians. Among them were vast numbers of +the restless, idle, profligate, and adventurous spirit of the time. Some became +Crusaders for the love of change; some, in the hope of plunder; some, because +they had nothing to do at home; some, because they did what the priests told +them; some, because they liked to see foreign countries; some, because they +were fond of knocking men about, and would as soon knock a Turk about as a +Christian. Robert of Normandy may have been influenced by all these motives; +and by a kind desire, besides, to save the Christian Pilgrims from bad +treatment in future. He wanted to raise a number of armed men, and to go to the +Crusade. He could not do so without money. He had no money; and he sold his +dominions to his brother, the Red King, for five years. With the large sum he +thus obtained, he fitted out his Crusaders gallantly, and went away to +Jerusalem in martial state. The Red King, who made money out of everything, +stayed at home, busily squeezing more money out of Normans and English. +</p> + +<p> +After three years of great hardship and suffering—from shipwreck at sea; +from travel in strange lands; from hunger, thirst, and fever, upon the burning +sands of the desert; and from the fury of the Turks—the valiant Crusaders +got possession of Our Saviour’s tomb. The Turks were still resisting and +fighting bravely, but this success increased the general desire in Europe to +join the Crusade. Another great French Duke was proposing to sell his dominions +for a term to the rich Red King, when the Red King’s reign came to a +sudden and violent end. +</p> + +<p> +You have not forgotten the New Forest which the Conqueror made, and which the +miserable people whose homes he had laid waste, so hated. The cruelty of the +Forest Laws, and the torture and death they brought upon the peasantry, +increased this hatred. The poor persecuted country people believed that the New +Forest was enchanted. They said that in thunder-storms, and on dark nights, +demons appeared, moving beneath the branches of the gloomy trees. They said +that a terrible spectre had foretold to Norman hunters that the Red King should +be punished there. And now, in the pleasant season of May, when the Red King +had reigned almost thirteen years; and a second Prince of the Conqueror’s +blood—another Richard, the son of Duke Robert—was killed by an +arrow in this dreaded Forest; the people said that the second time was not the +last, and that there was another death to come. +</p> + +<p> +It was a lonely forest, accursed in the people’s hearts for the wicked +deeds that had been done to make it; and no man save the King and his Courtiers +and Huntsmen, liked to stray there. But, in reality, it was like any other +forest. In the spring, the green leaves broke out of the buds; in the summer, +flourished heartily, and made deep shades; in the winter, shrivelled and blew +down, and lay in brown heaps on the moss. Some trees were stately, and grew +high and strong; some had fallen of themselves; some were felled by the +forester’s axe; some were hollow, and the rabbits burrowed at their +roots; some few were struck by lightning, and stood white and bare. There were +hill-sides covered with rich fern, on which the morning dew so beautifully +sparkled; there were brooks, where the deer went down to drink, or over which +the whole herd bounded, flying from the arrows of the huntsmen; there were +sunny glades, and solemn places where but little light came through the +rustling leaves. The songs of the birds in the New Forest were pleasanter to +hear than the shouts of fighting men outside; and even when the Red King and +his Court came hunting through its solitudes, cursing loud and riding hard, +with a jingling of stirrups and bridles and knives and daggers, they did much +less harm there than among the English or Normans, and the stags died (as they +lived) far easier than the people. +</p> + +<p> +Upon a day in August, the Red King, now reconciled to his brother, +Fine-Scholar, came with a great train to hunt in the New Forest. Fine-Scholar +was of the party. They were a merry party, and had lain all night at +Malwood-Keep, a hunting-lodge in the forest, where they had made good cheer, +both at supper and breakfast, and had drunk a deal of wine. The party dispersed +in various directions, as the custom of hunters then was. The King took with +him only <span class="smcap">Sir Walter Tyrrel</span>, who was a famous +sportsman, and to whom he had given, before they mounted horse that morning, +two fine arrows. +</p> + +<p> +The last time the King was ever seen alive, he was riding with Sir Walter +Tyrrel, and their dogs were hunting together. +</p> + +<p> +It was almost night, when a poor charcoal-burner, passing through the forest +with his cart, came upon the solitary body of a dead man, shot with an arrow in +the breast, and still bleeding. He got it into his cart. It was the body of the +King. Shaken and tumbled, with its red beard all whitened with lime and clotted +with blood, it was driven in the cart by the charcoal-burner next day to +Winchester Cathedral, where it was received and buried. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Walter Tyrrel, who escaped to Normandy, and claimed the protection of the +King of France, swore in France that the Red King was suddenly shot dead by an +arrow from an unseen hand, while they were hunting together; that he was +fearful of being suspected as the King’s murderer; and that he instantly +set spurs to his horse, and fled to the sea-shore. Others declared that the +King and Sir Walter Tyrrel were hunting in company, a little before sunset, +standing in bushes opposite one another, when a stag came between them. That +the King drew his bow and took aim, but the string broke. That the King then +cried, ‘Shoot, Walter, in the Devil’s name!’ That Sir Walter +shot. That the arrow glanced against a tree, was turned aside from the stag, +and struck the King from his horse, dead. +</p> + +<p> +By whose hand the Red King really fell, and whether that hand despatched the +arrow to his breast by accident or by design, is only known to <span +class="smcap">God</span>. Some think his brother may have caused him to be +killed; but the Red King had made so many enemies, both among priests and +people, that suspicion may reasonably rest upon a less unnatural murderer. Men +know no more than that he was found dead in the New Forest, which the suffering +people had regarded as a doomed ground for his race. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap10"></a>CHAPTER X<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FIRST, CALLED FINE-SCHOLAR</h2> + +<p> +Fine-scholar, on hearing of the Red King’s death, hurried to Winchester +with as much speed as Rufus himself had made, to seize the Royal treasure. But +the keeper of the treasure who had been one of the hunting-party in the Forest, +made haste to Winchester too, and, arriving there at about the same time, +refused to yield it up. Upon this, Fine-Scholar drew his sword, and threatened +to kill the treasurer; who might have paid for his fidelity with his life, but +that he knew longer resistance to be useless when he found the Prince supported +by a company of powerful barons, who declared they were determined to make him +King. The treasurer, therefore, gave up the money and jewels of the Crown: and +on the third day after the death of the Red King, being a Sunday, Fine-Scholar +stood before the high altar in Westminster Abbey, and made a solemn declaration +that he would resign the Church property which his brother had seized; that he +would do no wrong to the nobles; and that he would restore to the people the +laws of Edward the Confessor, with all the improvements of William the +Conqueror. So began the reign of <span class="smcap">King Henry the +First</span>. +</p> + +<p> +The people were attached to their new King, both because he had known +distresses, and because he was an Englishman by birth and not a Norman. To +strengthen this last hold upon them, the King wished to marry an English lady; +and could think of no other wife than <span class="smcap">Maud the Good</span>, +the daughter of the King of Scotland. Although this good Princess did not love +the King, she was so affected by the representations the nobles made to her of +the great charity it would be in her to unite the Norman and Saxon races, and +prevent hatred and bloodshed between them for the future, that she consented to +become his wife. After some disputing among the priests, who said that as she +had been in a convent in her youth, and had worn the veil of a nun, she could +not lawfully be married—against which the Princess stated that her aunt, +with whom she had lived in her youth, had indeed sometimes thrown a piece of +black stuff over her, but for no other reason than because the nun’s veil +was the only dress the conquering Normans respected in girl or woman, and not +because she had taken the vows of a nun, which she never had—she was +declared free to marry, and was made King Henry’s Queen. A good Queen she +was; beautiful, kind-hearted, and worthy of a better husband than the King. +</p> + +<p> +For he was a cunning and unscrupulous man, though firm and clever. He cared +very little for his word, and took any means to gain his ends. All this is +shown in his treatment of his brother Robert—Robert, who had suffered him +to be refreshed with water, and who had sent him the wine from his own table, +when he was shut up, with the crows flying below him, parched with thirst, in +the castle on the top of St. Michael’s Mount, where his Red brother would +have let him die. +</p> + +<p> +Before the King began to deal with Robert, he removed and disgraced all the +favourites of the late King; who were for the most part base characters, much +detested by the people. Flambard, or Firebrand, whom the late King had made +Bishop of Durham, of all things in the world, Henry imprisoned in the Tower; +but Firebrand was a great joker and a jolly companion, and made himself so +popular with his guards that they pretended to know nothing about a long rope +that was sent into his prison at the bottom of a deep flagon of wine. The +guards took the wine, and Firebrand took the rope; with which, when they were +fast asleep, he let himself down from a window in the night, and so got +cleverly aboard ship and away to Normandy. +</p> + +<p> +Now Robert, when his brother Fine-Scholar came to the throne, was still absent +in the Holy Land. Henry pretended that Robert had been made Sovereign of that +country; and he had been away so long, that the ignorant people believed it. +But, behold, when Henry had been some time King of England, Robert came home to +Normandy; having leisurely returned from Jerusalem through Italy, in which +beautiful country he had enjoyed himself very much, and had married a lady as +beautiful as itself! In Normandy, he found Firebrand waiting to urge him to +assert his claim to the English crown, and declare war against King Henry. +This, after great loss of time in feasting and dancing with his beautiful +Italian wife among his Norman friends, he at last did. +</p> + +<p> +The English in general were on King Henry’s side, though many of the +Normans were on Robert’s. But the English sailors deserted the King, and +took a great part of the English fleet over to Normandy; so that Robert came to +invade this country in no foreign vessels, but in English ships. The virtuous +Anselm, however, whom Henry had invited back from abroad, and made Archbishop +of Canterbury, was steadfast in the King’s cause; and it was so well +supported that the two armies, instead of fighting, made a peace. Poor Robert, +who trusted anybody and everybody, readily trusted his brother, the King; and +agreed to go home and receive a pension from England, on condition that all his +followers were fully pardoned. This the King very faithfully promised, but +Robert was no sooner gone than he began to punish them. +</p> + +<p> +Among them was the Earl of Shrewsbury, who, on being summoned by the King to +answer to five-and-forty accusations, rode away to one of his strong castles, +shut himself up therein, called around him his tenants and vassals, and fought +for his liberty, but was defeated and banished. Robert, with all his faults, +was so true to his word, that when he first heard of this nobleman having risen +against his brother, he laid waste the Earl of Shrewsbury’s estates in +Normandy, to show the King that he would favour no breach of their treaty. +Finding, on better information, afterwards, that the Earl’s only crime +was having been his friend, he came over to England, in his old thoughtless, +warm-hearted way, to intercede with the King, and remind him of the solemn +promise to pardon all his followers. +</p> + +<p> +This confidence might have put the false King to the blush, but it did not. +Pretending to be very friendly, he so surrounded his brother with spies and +traps, that Robert, who was quite in his power, had nothing for it but to +renounce his pension and escape while he could. Getting home to Normandy, and +understanding the King better now, he naturally allied himself with his old +friend the Earl of Shrewsbury, who had still thirty castles in that country. +This was exactly what Henry wanted. He immediately declared that Robert had +broken the treaty, and next year invaded Normandy. +</p> + +<p> +He pretended that he came to deliver the Normans, at their own request, from +his brother’s misrule. There is reason to fear that his misrule was bad +enough; for his beautiful wife had died, leaving him with an infant son, and +his court was again so careless, dissipated, and ill-regulated, that it was +said he sometimes lay in bed of a day for want of clothes to put on—his +attendants having stolen all his dresses. But he headed his army like a brave +prince and a gallant soldier, though he had the misfortune to be taken prisoner +by King Henry, with four hundred of his Knights. Among them was poor harmless +Edgar Atheling, who loved Robert well. Edgar was not important enough to be +severe with. The King afterwards gave him a small pension, which he lived upon +and died upon, in peace, among the quiet woods and fields of England. +</p> + +<p> +And Robert—poor, kind, generous, wasteful, heedless Robert, with so many +faults, and yet with virtues that might have made a better and a happier +man—what was the end of him? If the King had had the magnanimity to say +with a kind air, ‘Brother, tell me, before these noblemen, that from this +time you will be my faithful follower and friend, and never raise your hand +against me or my forces more!’ he might have trusted Robert to the death. +But the King was not a magnanimous man. He sentenced his brother to be confined +for life in one of the Royal Castles. In the beginning of his imprisonment, he +was allowed to ride out, guarded; but he one day broke away from his guard and +galloped off. He had the evil fortune to ride into a swamp, where his horse +stuck fast and he was taken. When the King heard of it he ordered him to be +blinded, which was done by putting a red-hot metal basin on his eyes. +</p> + +<p> +And so, in darkness and in prison, many years, he thought of all his past life, +of the time he had wasted, of the treasure he had squandered, of the +opportunities he had lost, of the youth he had thrown away, of the talents he +had neglected. Sometimes, on fine autumn mornings, he would sit and think of +the old hunting parties in the free Forest, where he had been the foremost and +the gayest. Sometimes, in the still nights, he would wake, and mourn for the +many nights that had stolen past him at the gaming-table; sometimes, would seem +to hear, upon the melancholy wind, the old songs of the minstrels; sometimes, +would dream, in his blindness, of the light and glitter of the Norman Court. +Many and many a time, he groped back, in his fancy, to Jerusalem, where he had +fought so well; or, at the head of his brave companions, bowed his feathered +helmet to the shouts of welcome greeting him in Italy, and seemed again to walk +among the sunny vineyards, or on the shore of the blue sea, with his lovely +wife. And then, thinking of her grave, and of his fatherless boy, he would +stretch out his solitary arms and weep. +</p> + +<p> +At length, one day, there lay in prison, dead, with cruel and disfiguring scars +upon his eyelids, bandaged from his jailer’s sight, but on which the +eternal Heavens looked down, a worn old man of eighty. He had once been Robert +of Normandy. Pity him! +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/p52b.jpg"> +<img alt="Duke Robert of Normandy" src="images/p52s.jpg" /></a> +</div> + +<p> +At the time when Robert of Normandy was taken prisoner by his brother, +Robert’s little son was only five years old. This child was taken, too, +and carried before the King, sobbing and crying; for, young as he was, he knew +he had good reason to be afraid of his Royal uncle. The King was not much +accustomed to pity those who were in his power, but his cold heart seemed for +the moment to soften towards the boy. He was observed to make a great effort, +as if to prevent himself from being cruel, and ordered the child to be taken +away; whereupon a certain Baron, who had married a daughter of Duke +Robert’s (by name, Helie of Saint Saen), took charge of him, tenderly. +The King’s gentleness did not last long. Before two years were over, he +sent messengers to this lord’s Castle to seize the child and bring him +away. The Baron was not there at the time, but his servants were faithful, and +carried the boy off in his sleep and hid him. When the Baron came home, and was +told what the King had done, he took the child abroad, and, leading him by the +hand, went from King to King and from Court to Court, relating how the child +had a claim to the throne of England, and how his uncle the King, knowing that +he had that claim, would have murdered him, perhaps, but for his escape. +</p> + +<p> +The youth and innocence of the pretty little <span class="smcap">William +Fitz-Robert</span> (for that was his name) made him many friends at that time. +When he became a young man, the King of France, uniting with the French Counts +of Anjou and Flanders, supported his cause against the King of England, and +took many of the King’s towns and castles in Normandy. But, King Henry, +artful and cunning always, bribed some of William’s friends with money, +some with promises, some with power. He bought off the Count of Anjou, by +promising to marry his eldest son, also named <span +class="smcap">William</span>, to the Count’s daughter; and indeed the +whole trust of this King’s life was in such bargains, and he believed (as +many another King has done since, and as one King did in France a very little +time ago) that every man’s truth and honour can be bought at some price. +For all this, he was so afraid of William Fitz-Robert and his friends, that, +for a long time, he believed his life to be in danger; and never lay down to +sleep, even in his palace surrounded by his guards, without having a sword and +buckler at his bedside. +</p> + +<p> +To strengthen his power, the King with great ceremony betrothed his eldest +daughter <span class="smcap">Matilda</span>, then a child only eight years old, +to be the wife of Henry the Fifth, the Emperor of Germany. To raise her +marriage-portion, he taxed the English people in a most oppressive manner; then +treated them to a great procession, to restore their good humour; and sent +Matilda away, in fine state, with the German ambassadors, to be educated in the +country of her future husband. +</p> + +<p> +And now his Queen, Maud the Good, unhappily died. It was a sad thought for that +gentle lady, that the only hope with which she had married a man whom she had +never loved—the hope of reconciling the Norman and English +races—had failed. At the very time of her death, Normandy and all France +was in arms against England; for, so soon as his last danger was over, King +Henry had been false to all the French powers he had promised, bribed, and +bought, and they had naturally united against him. After some fighting, +however, in which few suffered but the unhappy common people (who always +suffered, whatsoever was the matter), he began to promise, bribe, and buy +again; and by those means, and by the help of the Pope, who exerted himself to +save more bloodshed, and by solemnly declaring, over and over again, that he +really was in earnest this time, and would keep his word, the King made peace. +</p> + +<p> +One of the first consequences of this peace was, that the King went over to +Normandy with his son Prince William and a great retinue, to have the Prince +acknowledged as his successor by the Norman Nobles, and to contract the +promised marriage (this was one of the many promises the King had broken) +between him and the daughter of the Count of Anjou. Both these things were +triumphantly done, with great show and rejoicing; and on the twenty-fifth of +November, in the year one thousand one hundred and twenty, the whole retinue +prepared to embark at the Port of Barfleur, for the voyage home. +</p> + +<p> +On that day, and at that place, there came to the King, Fitz-Stephen, a +sea-captain, and said: +</p> + +<p> +‘My liege, my father served your father all his life, upon the sea. He +steered the ship with the golden boy upon the prow, in which your father sailed +to conquer England. I beseech you to grant me the same office. I have a fair +vessel in the harbour here, called The White Ship, manned by fifty sailors of +renown. I pray you, Sire, to let your servant have the honour of steering you +in The White Ship to England!’ +</p> + +<p> +‘I am sorry, friend,’ replied the King, ‘that my vessel is +already chosen, and that I cannot (therefore) sail with the son of the man who +served my father. But the Prince and all his company shall go along with you, +in the fair White Ship, manned by the fifty sailors of renown.’ +</p> + +<p> +An hour or two afterwards, the King set sail in the vessel he had chosen, +accompanied by other vessels, and, sailing all night with a fair and gentle +wind, arrived upon the coast of England in the morning. While it was yet night, +the people in some of those ships heard a faint wild cry come over the sea, and +wondered what it was. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the Prince was a dissolute, debauched young man of eighteen, who bore no +love to the English, and had declared that when he came to the throne he would +yoke them to the plough like oxen. He went aboard The White Ship, with one +hundred and forty youthful Nobles like himself, among whom were eighteen noble +ladies of the highest rank. All this gay company, with their servants and the +fifty sailors, made three hundred souls aboard the fair White Ship. +</p> + +<p> +‘Give three casks of wine, Fitz-Stephen,’ said the Prince, +‘to the fifty sailors of renown! My father the King has sailed out of the +harbour. What time is there to make merry here, and yet reach England with the +rest?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Prince!’ said Fitz-Stephen, ‘before morning, my fifty and +The White Ship shall overtake the swiftest vessel in attendance on your father +the King, if we sail at midnight!’ +</p> + +<p> +Then the Prince commanded to make merry; and the sailors drank out the three +casks of wine; and the Prince and all the noble company danced in the moonlight +on the deck of The White Ship. +</p> + +<p> +When, at last, she shot out of the harbour of Barfleur, there was not a sober +seaman on board. But the sails were all set, and the oars all going merrily. +Fitz-Stephen had the helm. The gay young nobles and the beautiful ladies, +wrapped in mantles of various bright colours to protect them from the cold, +talked, laughed, and sang. The Prince encouraged the fifty sailors to row +harder yet, for the honour of The White Ship. +</p> + +<p> +Crash! A terrific cry broke from three hundred hearts. It was the cry the +people in the distant vessels of the King heard faintly on the water. The White +Ship had struck upon a rock—was filling—going down! +</p> + +<p> +Fitz-Stephen hurried the Prince into a boat, with some few Nobles. ‘Push +off,’ he whispered; ‘and row to land. It is not far, and the sea is +smooth. The rest of us must die.’ +</p> + +<p> +But, as they rowed away, fast, from the sinking ship, the Prince heard the +voice of his sister <span class="smcap">Marie</span>, the Countess of Perche, +calling for help. He never in his life had been so good as he was then. He +cried in an agony, ‘Row back at any risk! I cannot bear to leave +her!’ +</p> + +<p> +They rowed back. As the Prince held out his arms to catch his sister, such +numbers leaped in, that the boat was overset. And in the same instant The White +Ship went down. +</p> + +<p> +Only two men floated. They both clung to the main yard of the ship, which had +broken from the mast, and now supported them. One asked the other who he was? +He said, ‘I am a nobleman, <span class="smcap">Godfrey</span> by name, +the son of <span class="smcap">Gilbert de l’Aigle</span>. And you?’ +said he. ‘I am <span class="smcap">Berold</span>, a poor butcher of +Rouen,’ was the answer. Then, they said together, ‘Lord be merciful +to us both!’ and tried to encourage one another, as they drifted in the +cold benumbing sea on that unfortunate November night. +</p> + +<p> +By-and-by, another man came swimming towards them, whom they knew, when he +pushed aside his long wet hair, to be Fitz-Stephen. ‘Where is the +Prince?’ said he. ‘Gone! Gone!’ the two cried together. +‘Neither he, nor his brother, nor his sister, nor the King’s niece, +nor her brother, nor any one of all the brave three hundred, noble or commoner, +except we three, has risen above the water!’ Fitz-Stephen, with a ghastly +face, cried, ‘Woe! woe, to me!’ and sunk to the bottom. +</p> + +<p> +The other two clung to the yard for some hours. At length the young noble said +faintly, ‘I am exhausted, and chilled with the cold, and can hold no +longer. Farewell, good friend! God preserve you!’ So, he dropped and +sunk; and of all the brilliant crowd, the poor Butcher of Rouen alone was +saved. In the morning, some fishermen saw him floating in his sheep-skin coat, +and got him into their boat—the sole relater of the dismal tale. +</p> + +<p> +For three days, no one dared to carry the intelligence to the King. At length, +they sent into his presence a little boy, who, weeping bitterly, and kneeling +at his feet, told him that The White Ship was lost with all on board. The King +fell to the ground like a dead man, and never, never afterwards, was seen to +smile. +</p> + +<p> +But he plotted again, and promised again, and bribed and bought again, in his +old deceitful way. Having no son to succeed him, after all his pains +(‘The Prince will never yoke us to the plough, now!’ said the +English people), he took a second wife—<span class="smcap">Adelais</span> +or <span class="smcap">Alice</span>, a duke’s daughter, and the +Pope’s niece. Having no more children, however, he proposed to the Barons +to swear that they would recognise as his successor, his daughter Matilda, +whom, as she was now a widow, he married to the eldest son of the Count of +Anjou, <span class="smcap">Geoffrey</span>, surnamed <span +class="smcap">Plantagenet</span>, from a custom he had of wearing a sprig of +flowering broom (called Genêt in French) in his cap for a feather. As one +false man usually makes many, and as a false King, in particular, is pretty +certain to make a false Court, the Barons took the oath about the succession of +Matilda (and her children after her), twice over, without in the least +intending to keep it. The King was now relieved from any remaining fears of +William Fitz-Robert, by his death in the Monastery of St. Omer, in France, at +twenty-six years old, of a pike-wound in the hand. And as Matilda gave birth to +three sons, he thought the succession to the throne secure. +</p> + +<p> +He spent most of the latter part of his life, which was troubled by family +quarrels, in Normandy, to be near Matilda. When he had reigned upward of +thirty-five years, and was sixty-seven years old, he died of an indigestion and +fever, brought on by eating, when he was far from well, of a fish called +Lamprey, against which he had often been cautioned by his physicians. His +remains were brought over to Reading Abbey to be buried. +</p> + +<p> +You may perhaps hear the cunning and promise-breaking of King Henry the First, +called ‘policy’ by some people, and ‘diplomacy’ by +others. Neither of these fine words will in the least mean that it was true; +and nothing that is not true can possibly be good. +</p> + +<p> +His greatest merit, that I know of, was his love of learning—I should +have given him greater credit even for that, if it had been strong enough to +induce him to spare the eyes of a certain poet he once took prisoner, who was a +knight besides. But he ordered the poet’s eyes to be torn from his head, +because he had laughed at him in his verses; and the poet, in the pain of that +torture, dashed out his own brains against his prison wall. King Henry the +First was avaricious, revengeful, and so false, that I suppose a man never +lived whose word was less to be relied upon. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap11"></a>CHAPTER XI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER MATILDA AND STEPHEN</h2> + +<p> +The King was no sooner dead than all the plans and schemes he had laboured at +so long, and lied so much for, crumbled away like a hollow heap of sand. <span +class="smcap">Stephen</span>, whom he had never mistrusted or suspected, +started up to claim the throne. +</p> + +<p> +Stephen was the son of <span class="smcap">Adela</span>, the Conqueror’s +daughter, married to the Count of Blois. To Stephen, and to his brother <span +class="smcap">Henry</span>, the late King had been liberal; making Henry Bishop +of Winchester, and finding a good marriage for Stephen, and much enriching him. +This did not prevent Stephen from hastily producing a false witness, a servant +of the late King, to swear that the King had named him for his heir upon his +death-bed. On this evidence the Archbishop of Canterbury crowned him. The new +King, so suddenly made, lost not a moment in seizing the Royal treasure, and +hiring foreign soldiers with some of it to protect his throne. +</p> + +<p> +If the dead King had even done as the false witness said, he would have had +small right to will away the English people, like so many sheep or oxen, +without their consent. But he had, in fact, bequeathed all his territory to +Matilda; who, supported by <span class="smcap">Robert</span>, Earl of +Gloucester, soon began to dispute the crown. Some of the powerful barons and +priests took her side; some took Stephen’s; all fortified their castles; +and again the miserable English people were involved in war, from which they +could never derive advantage whosoever was victorious, and in which all parties +plundered, tortured, starved, and ruined them. +</p> + +<p> +Five years had passed since the death of Henry the First—and during those +five years there had been two terrible invasions by the people of Scotland +under their King, David, who was at last defeated with all his army—when +Matilda, attended by her brother Robert and a large force, appeared in England +to maintain her claim. A battle was fought between her troops and King +Stephen’s at Lincoln; in which the King himself was taken prisoner, after +bravely fighting until his battle-axe and sword were broken, and was carried +into strict confinement at Gloucester. Matilda then submitted herself to the +Priests, and the Priests crowned her Queen of England. +</p> + +<p> +She did not long enjoy this dignity. The people of London had a great affection +for Stephen; many of the Barons considered it degrading to be ruled by a woman; +and the Queen’s temper was so haughty that she made innumerable enemies. +The people of London revolted; and, in alliance with the troops of Stephen, +besieged her at Winchester, where they took her brother Robert prisoner, whom, +as her best soldier and chief general, she was glad to exchange for Stephen +himself, who thus regained his liberty. Then, the long war went on afresh. +Once, she was pressed so hard in the Castle of Oxford, in the winter weather +when the snow lay thick upon the ground, that her only chance of escape was to +dress herself all in white, and, accompanied by no more than three faithful +Knights, dressed in like manner that their figures might not be seen from +Stephen’s camp as they passed over the snow, to steal away on foot, cross +the frozen Thames, walk a long distance, and at last gallop away on horseback. +All this she did, but to no great purpose then; for her brother dying while the +struggle was yet going on, she at last withdrew to Normandy. +</p> + +<p> +In two or three years after her withdrawal her cause appeared in England, +afresh, in the person of her son Henry, young Plantagenet, who, at only +eighteen years of age, was very powerful: not only on account of his mother +having resigned all Normandy to him, but also from his having married <span +class="smcap">Eleanor</span>, the divorced wife of the French King, a bad +woman, who had great possessions in France. Louis, the French King, not +relishing this arrangement, helped <span class="smcap">Eustace</span>, King +Stephen’s son, to invade Normandy: but Henry drove their united forces +out of that country, and then returned here, to assist his partisans, whom the +King was then besieging at Wallingford upon the Thames. Here, for two days, +divided only by the river, the two armies lay encamped opposite to one +another—on the eve, as it seemed to all men, of another desperate fight, +when the <span class="smcap">Earl of Arundel</span> took heart and said +‘that it was not reasonable to prolong the unspeakable miseries of two +kingdoms to minister to the ambition of two princes.’ +</p> + +<p> +Many other noblemen repeating and supporting this when it was once uttered, +Stephen and young Plantagenet went down, each to his own bank of the river, and +held a conversation across it, in which they arranged a truce; very much to the +dissatisfaction of Eustace, who swaggered away with some followers, and laid +violent hands on the Abbey of St. Edmund’s-Bury, where he presently died +mad. The truce led to a solemn council at Winchester, in which it was agreed +that Stephen should retain the crown, on condition of his declaring Henry his +successor; that <span class="smcap">William</span>, another son of the +King’s, should inherit his father’s rightful possessions; and that +all the Crown lands which Stephen had given away should be recalled, and all +the Castles he had permitted to be built demolished. Thus terminated the bitter +war, which had now lasted fifteen years, and had again laid England waste. In +the next year <span class="smcap">Stephen</span> died, after a troubled reign +of nineteen years. +</p> + +<p> +Although King Stephen was, for the time in which he lived, a humane and +moderate man, with many excellent qualities; and although nothing worse is +known of him than his usurpation of the Crown, which he probably excused to +himself by the consideration that King Henry the First was a usurper +too—which was no excuse at all; the people of England suffered more in +these dread nineteen years, than at any former period even of their suffering +history. In the division of the nobility between the two rival claimants of the +Crown, and in the growth of what is called the Feudal System (which made the +peasants the born vassals and mere slaves of the Barons), every Noble had his +strong Castle, where he reigned the cruel king of all the neighbouring people. +Accordingly, he perpetrated whatever cruelties he chose. And never were worse +cruelties committed upon earth than in wretched England in those nineteen +years. +</p> + +<p> +The writers who were living then describe them fearfully. They say that the +castles were filled with devils rather than with men; that the peasants, men +and women, were put into dungeons for their gold and silver, were tortured with +fire and smoke, were hung up by the thumbs, were hung up by the heels with +great weights to their heads, were torn with jagged irons, killed with hunger, +broken to death in narrow chests filled with sharp-pointed stones, murdered in +countless fiendish ways. In England there was no corn, no meat, no cheese, no +butter, there were no tilled lands, no harvests. Ashes of burnt towns, and +dreary wastes, were all that the traveller, fearful of the robbers who prowled +abroad at all hours, would see in a long day’s journey; and from sunrise +until night, he would not come upon a home. +</p> + +<p> +The clergy sometimes suffered, and heavily too, from pillage, but many of them +had castles of their own, and fought in helmet and armour like the barons, and +drew lots with other fighting men for their share of booty. The Pope (or Bishop +of Rome), on King Stephen’s resisting his ambition, laid England under an +Interdict at one period of this reign; which means that he allowed no service +to be performed in the churches, no couples to be married, no bells to be rung, +no dead bodies to be buried. Any man having the power to refuse these things, +no matter whether he were called a Pope or a Poulterer, would, of course, have +the power of afflicting numbers of innocent people. That nothing might be +wanting to the miseries of King Stephen’s time, the Pope threw in this +contribution to the public store—not very like the widow’s +contribution, as I think, when Our Saviour sat in Jerusalem over-against the +Treasury, ‘and she threw in two mites, which make a farthing.’ +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap12"></a>CHAPTER XII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SECOND</h2> + +<h3>PART THE FIRST</h3> + +<p> +Henry Plantagenet, when he was but twenty-one years old, quietly succeeded to +the throne of England, according to his agreement made with the late King at +Winchester. Six weeks after Stephen’s death, he and his Queen, Eleanor, +were crowned in that city; into which they rode on horseback in great state, +side by side, amidst much shouting and rejoicing, and clashing of music, and +strewing of flowers. +</p> + +<p> +The reign of King Henry the Second began well. The King had great possessions, +and (what with his own rights, and what with those of his wife) was lord of +one-third part of France. He was a young man of vigour, ability, and +resolution, and immediately applied himself to remove some of the evils which +had arisen in the last unhappy reign. He revoked all the grants of land that +had been hastily made, on either side, during the late struggles; he obliged +numbers of disorderly soldiers to depart from England; he reclaimed all the +castles belonging to the Crown; and he forced the wicked nobles to pull down +their own castles, to the number of eleven hundred, in which such dismal +cruelties had been inflicted on the people. The King’s brother, <span +class="smcap">Geoffrey</span>, rose against him in France, while he was so well +employed, and rendered it necessary for him to repair to that country; where, +after he had subdued and made a friendly arrangement with his brother (who did +not live long), his ambition to increase his possessions involved him in a war +with the French King, Louis, with whom he had been on such friendly terms just +before, that to the French King’s infant daughter, then a baby in the +cradle, he had promised one of his little sons in marriage, who was a child of +five years old. However, the war came to nothing at last, and the Pope made the +two Kings friends again. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the clergy, in the troubles of the last reign, had gone on very ill +indeed. There were all kinds of criminals among them—murderers, thieves, +and vagabonds; and the worst of the matter was, that the good priests would not +give up the bad priests to justice, when they committed crimes, but persisted +in sheltering and defending them. The King, well knowing that there could be no +peace or rest in England while such things lasted, resolved to reduce the power +of the clergy; and, when he had reigned seven years, found (as he considered) a +good opportunity for doing so, in the death of the Archbishop of Canterbury. +‘I will have for the new Archbishop,’ thought the King, ‘a +friend in whom I can trust, who will help me to humble these rebellious +priests, and to have them dealt with, when they do wrong, as other men who do +wrong are dealt with.’ So, he resolved to make his favourite, the new +Archbishop; and this favourite was so extraordinary a man, and his story is so +curious, that I must tell you all about him. +</p> + +<p> +Once upon a time, a worthy merchant of London, named <span +class="smcap">Gilbert à Becket</span>, made a pilgrimage to the Holy +Land, and was taken prisoner by a Saracen lord. This lord, who treated him +kindly and not like a slave, had one fair daughter, who fell in love with the +merchant; and who told him that she wanted to become a Christian, and was +willing to marry him if they could fly to a Christian country. The merchant +returned her love, until he found an opportunity to escape, when he did not +trouble himself about the Saracen lady, but escaped with his servant Richard, +who had been taken prisoner along with him, and arrived in England and forgot +her. The Saracen lady, who was more loving than the merchant, left her +father’s house in disguise to follow him, and made her way, under many +hardships, to the sea-shore. The merchant had taught her only two English words +(for I suppose he must have learnt the Saracen tongue himself, and made love in +that language), of which <span class="smcap">London</span> was one, and his own +name, <span class="smcap">Gilbert</span>, the other. She went among the ships, +saying, ‘London! London!’ over and over again, until the sailors +understood that she wanted to find an English vessel that would carry her +there; so they showed her such a ship, and she paid for her passage with some +of her jewels, and sailed away. Well! The merchant was sitting in his +counting-house in London one day, when he heard a great noise in the street; +and presently Richard came running in from the warehouse, with his eyes wide +open and his breath almost gone, saying, ‘Master, master, here is the +Saracen lady!’ The merchant thought Richard was mad; but Richard said, +‘No, master! As I live, the Saracen lady is going up and down the city, +calling Gilbert! Gilbert!’ Then, he took the merchant by the sleeve, and +pointed out of window; and there they saw her among the gables and water-spouts +of the dark, dirty street, in her foreign dress, so forlorn, surrounded by a +wondering crowd, and passing slowly along, calling Gilbert, Gilbert! When the +merchant saw her, and thought of the tenderness she had shown him in his +captivity, and of her constancy, his heart was moved, and he ran down into the +street; and she saw him coming, and with a great cry fainted in his arms. They +were married without loss of time, and Richard (who was an excellent man) +danced with joy the whole day of the wedding; and they all lived happy ever +afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +This merchant and this Saracen lady had one son, <span class="smcap">Thomas +à Becket</span>. He it was who became the Favourite of King Henry the +Second. +</p> + +<p> +He had become Chancellor, when the King thought of making him Archbishop. He +was clever, gay, well educated, brave; had fought in several battles in France; +had defeated a French knight in single combat, and brought his horse away as a +token of the victory. He lived in a noble palace, he was the tutor of the young +Prince Henry, he was served by one hundred and forty knights, his riches were +immense. The King once sent him as his ambassador to France; and the French +people, beholding in what state he travelled, cried out in the streets, +‘How splendid must the King of England be, when this is only the +Chancellor!’ They had good reason to wonder at the magnificence of Thomas +à Becket, for, when he entered a French town, his procession was headed +by two hundred and fifty singing boys; then, came his hounds in couples; then, +eight waggons, each drawn by five horses driven by five drivers: two of the +waggons filled with strong ale to be given away to the people; four, with his +gold and silver plate and stately clothes; two, with the dresses of his +numerous servants. Then, came twelve horses, each with a monkey on his back; +then, a train of people bearing shields and leading fine war-horses splendidly +equipped; then, falconers with hawks upon their wrists; then, a host of +knights, and gentlemen and priests; then, the Chancellor with his brilliant +garments flashing in the sun, and all the people capering and shouting with +delight. +</p> + +<p> +The King was well pleased with all this, thinking that it only made himself the +more magnificent to have so magnificent a favourite; but he sometimes jested +with the Chancellor upon his splendour too. Once, when they were riding +together through the streets of London in hard winter weather, they saw a +shivering old man in rags. ‘Look at the poor object!’ said the +King. ‘Would it not be a charitable act to give that aged man a +comfortable warm cloak?’ ‘Undoubtedly it would,’ said Thomas +à Becket, ‘and you do well, Sir, to think of such Christian +duties.’ ‘Come!’ cried the King, ‘then give him your +cloak!’ It was made of rich crimson trimmed with ermine. The King tried +to pull it off, the Chancellor tried to keep it on, both were near rolling from +their saddles in the mud, when the Chancellor submitted, and the King gave the +cloak to the old beggar: much to the beggar’s astonishment, and much to +the merriment of all the courtiers in attendance. For, courtiers are not only +eager to laugh when the King laughs, but they really do enjoy a laugh against a +Favourite. +</p> + +<p> +‘I will make,’ thought King Henry the second, ‘this +Chancellor of mine, Thomas à Becket, Archbishop of Canterbury. He will +then be the head of the Church, and, being devoted to me, will help me to +correct the Church. He has always upheld my power against the power of the +clergy, and once publicly told some bishops (I remember), that men of the +Church were equally bound to me, with men of the sword. Thomas à Becket +is the man, of all other men in England, to help me in my great design.’ +So the King, regardless of all objection, either that he was a fighting man, or +a lavish man, or a courtly man, or a man of pleasure, or anything but a likely +man for the office, made him Archbishop accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Thomas à Becket was proud and loved to be famous. He was already +famous for the pomp of his life, for his riches, his gold and silver plate, his +waggons, horses, and attendants. He could do no more in that way than he had +done; and being tired of that kind of fame (which is a very poor one), he +longed to have his name celebrated for something else. Nothing, he knew, would +render him so famous in the world, as the setting of his utmost power and +ability against the utmost power and ability of the King. He resolved with the +whole strength of his mind to do it. +</p> + +<p> +He may have had some secret grudge against the King besides. The King may have +offended his proud humour at some time or other, for anything I know. I think +it likely, because it is a common thing for Kings, Princes, and other great +people, to try the tempers of their favourites rather severely. Even the little +affair of the crimson cloak must have been anything but a pleasant one to a +haughty man. Thomas à Becket knew better than any one in England what +the King expected of him. In all his sumptuous life, he had never yet been in a +position to disappoint the King. He could take up that proud stand now, as head +of the Church; and he determined that it should be written in history, either +that he subdued the King, or that the King subdued him. +</p> + +<p> +So, of a sudden, he completely altered the whole manner of his life. He turned +off all his brilliant followers, ate coarse food, drank bitter water, wore next +his skin sackcloth covered with dirt and vermin (for it was then thought very +religious to be very dirty), flogged his back to punish himself, lived chiefly +in a little cell, washed the feet of thirteen poor people every day, and looked +as miserable as he possibly could. If he had put twelve hundred monkeys on +horseback instead of twelve, and had gone in procession with eight thousand +waggons instead of eight, he could not have half astonished the people so much +as by this great change. It soon caused him to be more talked about as an +Archbishop than he had been as a Chancellor. +</p> + +<p> +The King was very angry; and was made still more so, when the new Archbishop, +claiming various estates from the nobles as being rightfully Church property, +required the King himself, for the same reason, to give up Rochester Castle, +and Rochester City too. Not satisfied with this, he declared that no power but +himself should appoint a priest to any Church in the part of England over which +he was Archbishop; and when a certain gentleman of Kent made such an +appointment, as he claimed to have the right to do, Thomas à Becket +excommunicated him. +</p> + +<p> +Excommunication was, next to the Interdict I told you of at the close of the +last chapter, the great weapon of the clergy. It consisted in declaring the +person who was excommunicated, an outcast from the Church and from all +religious offices; and in cursing him all over, from the top of his head to the +sole of his foot, whether he was standing up, lying down, sitting, kneeling, +walking, running, hopping, jumping, gaping, coughing, sneezing, or whatever +else he was doing. This unchristian nonsense would of course have made no sort +of difference to the person cursed—who could say his prayers at home if +he were shut out of church, and whom none but <span class="smcap">God</span> +could judge—but for the fears and superstitions of the people, who +avoided excommunicated persons, and made their lives unhappy. So, the King said +to the New Archbishop, ‘Take off this Excommunication from this gentleman +of Kent.’ To which the Archbishop replied, ‘I shall do no such +thing.’ +</p> + +<p> +The quarrel went on. A priest in Worcestershire committed a most dreadful +murder, that aroused the horror of the whole nation. The King demanded to have +this wretch delivered up, to be tried in the same court and in the same way as +any other murderer. The Archbishop refused, and kept him in the Bishop’s +prison. The King, holding a solemn assembly in Westminster Hall, demanded that +in future all priests found guilty before their Bishops of crimes against the +law of the land should be considered priests no longer, and should be delivered +over to the law of the land for punishment. The Archbishop again refused. The +King required to know whether the clergy would obey the ancient customs of the +country? Every priest there, but one, said, after Thomas à Becket, +‘Saving my order.’ This really meant that they would only obey +those customs when they did not interfere with their own claims; and the King +went out of the Hall in great wrath. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the clergy began to be afraid, now, that they were going too far. +Though Thomas à Becket was otherwise as unmoved as Westminster Hall, +they prevailed upon him, for the sake of their fears, to go to the King at +Woodstock, and promise to observe the ancient customs of the country, without +saying anything about his order. The King received this submission favourably, +and summoned a great council of the clergy to meet at the Castle of Clarendon, +by Salisbury. But when the council met, the Archbishop again insisted on the +words ‘saying my order;’ and he still insisted, though lords +entreated him, and priests wept before him and knelt to him, and an adjoining +room was thrown open, filled with armed soldiers of the King, to threaten him. +At length he gave way, for that time, and the ancient customs (which included +what the King had demanded in vain) were stated in writing, and were signed and +sealed by the chief of the clergy, and were called the Constitutions of +Clarendon. +</p> + +<p> +The quarrel went on, for all that. The Archbishop tried to see the King. The +King would not see him. The Archbishop tried to escape from England. The +sailors on the coast would launch no boat to take him away. Then, he again +resolved to do his worst in opposition to the King, and began openly to set the +ancient customs at defiance. +</p> + +<p> +The King summoned him before a great council at Northampton, where he accused +him of high treason, and made a claim against him, which was not a just one, +for an enormous sum of money. Thomas à Becket was alone against the +whole assembly, and the very Bishops advised him to resign his office and +abandon his contest with the King. His great anxiety and agitation stretched +him on a sick-bed for two days, but he was still undaunted. He went to the +adjourned council, carrying a great cross in his right hand, and sat down +holding it erect before him. The King angrily retired into an inner room. The +whole assembly angrily retired and left him there. But there he sat. The +Bishops came out again in a body, and renounced him as a traitor. He only said, +‘I hear!’ and sat there still. They retired again into the inner +room, and his trial proceeded without him. By-and-by, the Earl of Leicester, +heading the barons, came out to read his sentence. He refused to hear it, +denied the power of the court, and said he would refer his cause to the Pope. +As he walked out of the hall, with the cross in his hand, some of those present +picked up rushes—rushes were strewn upon the floors in those days by way +of carpet—and threw them at him. He proudly turned his head, and said +that were he not Archbishop, he would chastise those cowards with the sword he +had known how to use in bygone days. He then mounted his horse, and rode away, +cheered and surrounded by the common people, to whom he threw open his house +that night and gave a supper, supping with them himself. That same night he +secretly departed from the town; and so, travelling by night and hiding by day, +and calling himself ‘Brother Dearman,’ got away, not without +difficulty, to Flanders. +</p> + +<p> +The struggle still went on. The angry King took possession of the revenues of +the archbishopric, and banished all the relations and servants of Thomas +à Becket, to the number of four hundred. The Pope and the French King +both protected him, and an abbey was assigned for his residence. Stimulated by +this support, Thomas à Becket, on a great festival day, formally +proceeded to a great church crowded with people, and going up into the pulpit +publicly cursed and excommunicated all who had supported the Constitutions of +Clarendon: mentioning many English noblemen by name, and not distantly hinting +at the King of England himself. +</p> + +<p> +When intelligence of this new affront was carried to the King in his chamber, +his passion was so furious that he tore his clothes, and rolled like a madman +on his bed of straw and rushes. But he was soon up and doing. He ordered all +the ports and coasts of England to be narrowly watched, that no letters of +Interdict might be brought into the kingdom; and sent messengers and bribes to +the Pope’s palace at Rome. Meanwhile, Thomas à Becket, for his +part, was not idle at Rome, but constantly employed his utmost arts in his own +behalf. Thus the contest stood, until there was peace between France and +England (which had been for some time at war), and until the two children of +the two Kings were married in celebration of it. Then, the French King brought +about a meeting between Henry and his old favourite, so long his enemy. +</p> + +<p> +Even then, though Thomas à Becket knelt before the King, he was +obstinate and immovable as to those words about his order. King Louis of France +was weak enough in his veneration for Thomas à Becket and such men, but +this was a little too much for him. He said that à Becket ‘wanted +to be greater than the saints and better than St. Peter,’ and rode away +from him with the King of England. His poor French Majesty asked à +Becket’s pardon for so doing, however, soon afterwards, and cut a very +pitiful figure. +</p> + +<p> +At last, and after a world of trouble, it came to this. There was another +meeting on French ground between King Henry and Thomas à Becket, and it +was agreed that Thomas à Becket should be Archbishop of Canterbury, +according to the customs of former Archbishops, and that the King should put +him in possession of the revenues of that post. And now, indeed, you might +suppose the struggle at an end, and Thomas à Becket at rest. <span +class="smcap">No</span>, not even yet. For Thomas à Becket hearing, by +some means, that King Henry, when he was in dread of his kingdom being placed +under an interdict, had had his eldest son Prince Henry secretly crowned, not +only persuaded the Pope to suspend the Archbishop of York who had performed +that ceremony, and to excommunicate the Bishops who had assisted at it, but +sent a messenger of his own into England, in spite of all the King’s +precautions along the coast, who delivered the letters of excommunication into +the Bishops’ own hands. Thomas à Becket then came over to England +himself, after an absence of seven years. He was privately warned that it was +dangerous to come, and that an ireful knight, named <span class="smcap">Ranulf +de Broc</span>, had threatened that he should not live to eat a loaf of bread +in England; but he came. +</p> + +<p> +The common people received him well, and marched about with him in a soldierly +way, armed with such rustic weapons as they could get. He tried to see the +young prince who had once been his pupil, but was prevented. He hoped for some +little support among the nobles and priests, but found none. He made the most +of the peasants who attended him, and feasted them, and went from Canterbury to +Harrow-on-the-Hill, and from Harrow-on-the-Hill back to Canterbury, and on +Christmas Day preached in the Cathedral there, and told the people in his +sermon that he had come to die among them, and that it was likely he would be +murdered. He had no fear, however—or, if he had any, he had much more +obstinacy—for he, then and there, excommunicated three of his enemies, of +whom Ranulf de Broc, the ireful knight, was one. +</p> + +<p> +As men in general had no fancy for being cursed, in their sitting and walking, +and gaping and sneezing, and all the rest of it, it was very natural in the +persons so freely excommunicated to complain to the King. It was equally +natural in the King, who had hoped that this troublesome opponent was at last +quieted, to fall into a mighty rage when he heard of these new affronts; and, +on the Archbishop of York telling him that he never could hope for rest while +Thomas à Becket lived, to cry out hastily before his court, ‘Have +I no one here who will deliver me from this man?’ There were four knights +present, who, hearing the King’s words, looked at one another, and went +out. +</p> + +<p> +The names of these knights were <span class="smcap">Reginald Fitzurse</span>, +<span class="smcap">William Tracy</span>, <span class="smcap">Hugh de +Morville</span>, and <span class="smcap">Richard Brito</span>; three of whom +had been in the train of Thomas à Becket in the old days of his +splendour. They rode away on horseback, in a very secret manner, and on the +third day after Christmas Day arrived at Saltwood House, not far from +Canterbury, which belonged to the family of Ranulf de Broc. They quietly +collected some followers here, in case they should need any; and proceeding to +Canterbury, suddenly appeared (the four knights and twelve men) before the +Archbishop, in his own house, at two o’clock in the afternoon. They +neither bowed nor spoke, but sat down on the floor in silence, staring at the +Archbishop. +</p> + +<p> +Thomas à Becket said, at length, ‘What do you want?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘We want,’ said Reginald Fitzurse, ‘the excommunication taken +from the Bishops, and you to answer for your offences to the King.’ +Thomas à Becket defiantly replied, that the power of the clergy was +above the power of the King. That it was not for such men as they were, to +threaten him. That if he were threatened by all the swords in England, he would +never yield. +</p> + +<p> +‘Then we will do more than threaten!’ said the knights. And they +went out with the twelve men, and put on their armour, and drew their shining +swords, and came back. +</p> + +<p> +His servants, in the meantime, had shut up and barred the great gate of the +palace. At first, the knights tried to shatter it with their battle-axes; but, +being shown a window by which they could enter, they let the gate alone, and +climbed in that way. While they were battering at the door, the attendants of +Thomas à Becket had implored him to take refuge in the Cathedral; in +which, as a sanctuary or sacred place, they thought the knights would dare to +do no violent deed. He told them, again and again, that he would not stir. +Hearing the distant voices of the monks singing the evening service, however, +he said it was now his duty to attend, and therefore, and for no other reason, +he would go. +</p> + +<p> +There was a near way between his Palace and the Cathedral, by some beautiful +old cloisters which you may yet see. He went into the Cathedral, without any +hurry, and having the Cross carried before him as usual. When he was safely +there, his servants would have fastened the door, but he said <span +class="smcap">No</span>! it was the house of God and not a fortress. +</p> + +<p> +As he spoke, the shadow of Reginald Fitzurse appeared in the Cathedral doorway, +darkening the little light there was outside, on the dark winter evening. This +knight said, in a strong voice, ‘Follow me, loyal servants of the +King!’ The rattle of the armour of the other knights echoed through the +Cathedral, as they came clashing in. +</p> + +<p> +It was so dark, in the lofty aisles and among the stately pillars of the +church, and there were so many hiding-places in the crypt below and in the +narrow passages above, that Thomas à Becket might even at that pass have +saved himself if he would. But he would not. He told the monks resolutely that +he would not. And though they all dispersed and left him there with no other +follower than <span class="smcap">Edward Gryme</span>, his faithful +cross-bearer, he was as firm then, as ever he had been in his life. +</p> + +<p> +The knights came on, through the darkness, making a terrible noise with their +armed tread upon the stone pavement of the church. ‘Where is the +traitor?’ they cried out. He made no answer. But when they cried, +‘Where is the Archbishop?’ he said proudly, ‘I am +here!’ and came out of the shade and stood before them. +</p> + +<p> +The knights had no desire to kill him, if they could rid the King and +themselves of him by any other means. They told him he must either fly or go +with them. He said he would do neither; and he threw William Tracy off with +such force when he took hold of his sleeve, that Tracy reeled again. By his +reproaches and his steadiness, he so incensed them, and exasperated their +fierce humour, that Reginald Fitzurse, whom he called by an ill name, said, +‘Then die!’ and struck at his head. But the faithful Edward Gryme +put out his arm, and there received the main force of the blow, so that it only +made his master bleed. Another voice from among the knights again called to +Thomas à Becket to fly; but, with his blood running down his face, and +his hands clasped, and his head bent, he commanded himself to God, and stood +firm. Then they cruelly killed him close to the altar of St. Bennet; and his +body fell upon the pavement, which was dirtied with his blood and brains. +</p> + +<p> +It is an awful thing to think of the murdered mortal, who had so showered his +curses about, lying, all disfigured, in the church, where a few lamps here and +there were but red specks on a pall of darkness; and to think of the guilty +knights riding away on horseback, looking over their shoulders at the dim +Cathedral, and remembering what they had left inside. +</p> + +<h3>PART THE SECOND</h3> + +<p> +When the King heard how Thomas à Becket had lost his life in Canterbury +Cathedral, through the ferocity of the four Knights, he was filled with dismay. +Some have supposed that when the King spoke those hasty words, ‘Have I no +one here who will deliver me from this man?’ he wished, and meant +à Becket to be slain. But few things are more unlikely; for, besides +that the King was not naturally cruel (though very passionate), he was wise, +and must have known full well what any stupid man in his dominions must have +known, namely, that such a murder would rouse the Pope and the whole Church +against him. +</p> + +<p> +He sent respectful messengers to the Pope, to represent his innocence (except +in having uttered the hasty words); and he swore solemnly and publicly to his +innocence, and contrived in time to make his peace. As to the four guilty +Knights, who fled into Yorkshire, and never again dared to show themselves at +Court, the Pope excommunicated them; and they lived miserably for some time, +shunned by all their countrymen. At last, they went humbly to Jerusalem as a +penance, and there died and were buried. +</p> + +<p> +It happened, fortunately for the pacifying of the Pope, that an opportunity +arose very soon after the murder of à Becket, for the King to declare +his power in Ireland—which was an acceptable undertaking to the Pope, as +the Irish, who had been converted to Christianity by one Patricius (otherwise +Saint Patrick) long ago, before any Pope existed, considered that the Pope had +nothing at all to do with them, or they with the Pope, and accordingly refused +to pay him Peter’s Pence, or that tax of a penny a house which I have +elsewhere mentioned. The King’s opportunity arose in this way. +</p> + +<p> +The Irish were, at that time, as barbarous a people as you can well imagine. +They were continually quarrelling and fighting, cutting one another’s +throats, slicing one another’s noses, burning one another’s houses, +carrying away one another’s wives, and committing all sorts of violence. +The country was divided into five kingdoms—<span class="smcap">Desmond, +Thomond</span>, <span class="smcap">Connaught</span>, <span +class="smcap">Ulster</span>, and <span class="smcap">Leinster</span>—each +governed by a separate King, of whom one claimed to be the chief of the rest. +Now, one of these Kings, named <span class="smcap">Dermond Mac Murrough</span> +(a wild kind of name, spelt in more than one wild kind of way), had carried off +the wife of a friend of his, and concealed her on an island in a bog. The +friend resenting this (though it was quite the custom of the country), +complained to the chief King, and, with the chief King’s help, drove +Dermond Mac Murrough out of his dominions. Dermond came over to England for +revenge; and offered to hold his realm as a vassal of King Henry, if King Henry +would help him to regain it. The King consented to these terms; but only +assisted him, then, with what were called Letters Patent, authorising any +English subjects who were so disposed, to enter into his service, and aid his +cause. +</p> + +<p> +There was, at Bristol, a certain <span class="smcap">Earl Richard de +Clare</span>, called <span class="smcap">Strongbow</span>; of no very good +character; needy and desperate, and ready for anything that offered him a +chance of improving his fortunes. There were, in South Wales, two other broken +knights of the same good-for-nothing sort, called <span class="smcap">Robert +Fitz-Stephen</span>, and <span class="smcap">Maurice Fitz-Gerald</span>. These +three, each with a small band of followers, took up Dermond’s cause; and +it was agreed that if it proved successful, Strongbow should marry +Dermond’s daughter <span class="smcap">Eva</span>, and be declared his +heir. +</p> + +<p> +The trained English followers of these knights were so superior in all the +discipline of battle to the Irish, that they beat them against immense +superiority of numbers. In one fight, early in the war, they cut off three +hundred heads, and laid them before Mac Murrough; who turned them every one up +with his hands, rejoicing, and, coming to one which was the head of a man whom +he had much disliked, grasped it by the hair and ears, and tore off the nose +and lips with his teeth. You may judge from this, what kind of a gentleman an +Irish King in those times was. The captives, all through this war, were +horribly treated; the victorious party making nothing of breaking their limbs, +and casting them into the sea from the tops of high rocks. It was in the midst +of the miseries and cruelties attendant on the taking of Waterford, where the +dead lay piled in the streets, and the filthy gutters ran with blood, that +Strongbow married Eva. An odious marriage-company those mounds of +corpses must have made, I think, and one quite worthy of the young lady’s +father. +</p> + +<p> +He died, after Waterford and Dublin had been taken, and various successes +achieved; and Strongbow became King of Leinster. Now came King Henry’s +opportunity. To restrain the growing power of Strongbow, he himself repaired to +Dublin, as Strongbow’s Royal Master, and deprived him of his kingdom, but +confirmed him in the enjoyment of great possessions. The King, then, holding +state in Dublin, received the homage of nearly all the Irish Kings and Chiefs, +and so came home again with a great addition to his reputation as Lord of +Ireland, and with a new claim on the favour of the Pope. And now, their +reconciliation was completed—more easily and mildly by the Pope, than the +King might have expected, I think. +</p> + +<p> +At this period of his reign, when his troubles seemed so few and his prospects +so bright, those domestic miseries began which gradually made the King the most +unhappy of men, reduced his great spirit, wore away his health, and broke his +heart. +</p> + +<p> +He had four sons. <span class="smcap">Henry</span>, now aged eighteen—his +secret crowning of whom had given such offence to Thomas à Becket. <span +class="smcap">Richard</span>, aged sixteen; <span +class="smcap">Geoffrey</span>, fifteen; and <span class="smcap">John</span>, +his favourite, a young boy whom the courtiers named <span +class="smcap">Lackland</span>, because he had no inheritance, but to whom the +King meant to give the Lordship of Ireland. All these misguided boys, in their +turn, were unnatural sons to him, and unnatural brothers to each other. Prince +Henry, stimulated by the French King, and by his bad mother, Queen Eleanor, +began the undutiful history. +</p> + +<p> +First, he demanded that his young wife, <span class="smcap">Margaret</span>, +the French King’s daughter, should be crowned as well as he. His father, +the King, consented, and it was done. It was no sooner done, than he demanded +to have a part of his father’s dominions, during his father’s life. +This being refused, he made off from his father in the night, with his bad +heart full of bitterness, and took refuge at the French King’s Court. +Within a day or two, his brothers Richard and Geoffrey followed. Their mother +tried to join them—escaping in man’s clothes—but she was +seized by King Henry’s men, and immured in prison, where she lay, +deservedly, for sixteen years. Every day, however, some grasping English +noblemen, to whom the King’s protection of his people from their avarice +and oppression had given offence, deserted him and joined the Princes. Every +day he heard some fresh intelligence of the Princes levying armies against him; +of Prince Henry’s wearing a crown before his own ambassadors at the +French Court, and being called the Junior King of England; of all the Princes +swearing never to make peace with him, their father, without the consent and +approval of the Barons of France. But, with his fortitude and energy unshaken, +King Henry met the shock of these disasters with a resolved and cheerful face. +He called upon all Royal fathers who had sons, to help him, for his cause was +theirs; he hired, out of his riches, twenty thousand men to fight the false +French King, who stirred his own blood against him; and he carried on the war +with such vigour, that Louis soon proposed a conference to treat for peace. +</p> + +<p> +The conference was held beneath an old wide-spreading green elm-tree, upon a +plain in France. It led to nothing. The war recommenced. Prince Richard began +his fighting career, by leading an army against his father; but his father beat +him and his army back; and thousands of his men would have rued the day in +which they fought in such a wicked cause, had not the King received news of an +invasion of England by the Scots, and promptly come home through a great storm +to repress it. And whether he really began to fear that he suffered these +troubles because à Becket had been murdered; or whether he wished to +rise in the favour of the Pope, who had now declared à Becket to be a +saint, or in the favour of his own people, of whom many believed that even +à Becket’s senseless tomb could work miracles, I don’t know: +but the King no sooner landed in England than he went straight to Canterbury; +and when he came within sight of the distant Cathedral, he dismounted from his +horse, took off his shoes, and walked with bare and bleeding feet to à +Becket’s grave. There, he lay down on the ground, lamenting, in the +presence of many people; and by-and-by he went into the Chapter House, and, +removing his clothes from his back and shoulders, submitted himself to be +beaten with knotted cords (not beaten very hard, I dare say though) by eighty +Priests, one after another. It chanced that on the very day when the King made +this curious exhibition of himself, a complete victory was obtained over the +Scots; which very much delighted the Priests, who said that it was won because +of his great example of repentance. For the Priests in general had found out, +since à Becket’s death, that they admired him of all +things—though they had hated him very cordially when he was alive. +</p> + +<p> +The Earl of Flanders, who was at the head of the base conspiracy of the +King’s undutiful sons and their foreign friends, took the opportunity of +the King being thus employed at home, to lay siege to Rouen, the capital of +Normandy. But the King, who was extraordinarily quick and active in all his +movements, was at Rouen, too, before it was supposed possible that he could +have left England; and there he so defeated the said Earl of Flanders, that the +conspirators proposed peace, and his bad sons Henry and Geoffrey submitted. +Richard resisted for six weeks; but, being beaten out of castle after castle, +he at last submitted too, and his father forgave him. +</p> + +<p> +To forgive these unworthy princes was only to afford them breathing-time for +new faithlessness. They were so false, disloyal, and dishonourable, that they +were no more to be trusted than common thieves. In the very next year, Prince +Henry rebelled again, and was again forgiven. In eight years more, Prince +Richard rebelled against his elder brother; and Prince Geoffrey infamously said +that the brothers could never agree well together, unless they were united +against their father. In the very next year after their reconciliation by the +King, Prince Henry again rebelled against his father; and again submitted, +swearing to be true; and was again forgiven; and again rebelled with Geoffrey. +</p> + +<p> +But the end of this perfidious Prince was come. He fell sick at a French town; +and his conscience terribly reproaching him with his baseness, he sent +messengers to the King his father, imploring him to come and see him, and to +forgive him for the last time on his bed of death. The generous King, who had a +royal and forgiving mind towards his children always, would have gone; but this +Prince had been so unnatural, that the noblemen about the King suspected +treachery, and represented to him that he could not safely trust his life with +such a traitor, though his own eldest son. Therefore the King sent him a ring +from off his finger as a token of forgiveness; and when the Prince had kissed +it, with much grief and many tears, and had confessed to those around him how +bad, and wicked, and undutiful a son he had been; he said to the attendant +Priests: ‘O, tie a rope about my body, and draw me out of bed, and lay me +down upon a bed of ashes, that I may die with prayers to God in a repentant +manner!’ And so he died, at twenty-seven years old. +</p> + +<p> +Three years afterwards, Prince Geoffrey, being unhorsed at a tournament, had +his brains trampled out by a crowd of horses passing over him. So, there only +remained Prince Richard, and Prince John—who had grown to be a young man +now, and had solemnly sworn to be faithful to his father. Richard soon rebelled +again, encouraged by his friend the French King, <span class="smcap">Philip the +Second</span> (son of Louis, who was dead); and soon submitted and was again +forgiven, swearing on the New Testament never to rebel again; and in another +year or so, rebelled again; and, in the presence of his father, knelt down on +his knee before the King of France; and did the French King homage: and +declared that with his aid he would possess himself, by force, of all his +father’s French dominions. +</p> + +<p> +And yet this Richard called himself a soldier of Our Saviour! And yet this +Richard wore the Cross, which the Kings of France and England had both taken, +in the previous year, at a brotherly meeting underneath the old wide-spreading +elm-tree on the plain, when they had sworn (like him) to devote themselves to a +new Crusade, for the love and honour of the Truth! +</p> + +<p> +Sick at heart, wearied out by the falsehood of his sons, and almost ready to +lie down and die, the unhappy King who had so long stood firm, began to fail. +But the Pope, to his honour, supported him; and obliged the French King and +Richard, though successful in fight, to treat for peace. Richard wanted to be +Crowned King of England, and pretended that he wanted to be married (which he +really did not) to the French King’s sister, his promised wife, whom King +Henry detained in England. King Henry wanted, on the other hand, that the +French King’s sister should be married to his favourite son, John: the +only one of his sons (he said) who had never rebelled against him. At last King +Henry, deserted by his nobles one by one, distressed, exhausted, +broken-hearted, consented to establish peace. +</p> + +<p> +One final heavy sorrow was reserved for him, even yet. When they brought him +the proposed treaty of peace, in writing, as he lay very ill in bed, they +brought him also the list of the deserters from their allegiance, whom he was +required to pardon. The first name upon this list was John, his favourite son, +in whom he had trusted to the last. +</p> + +<p> +‘O John! child of my heart!’ exclaimed the King, in a great agony +of mind. ‘O John, whom I have loved the best! O John, for whom I have +contended through these many troubles! Have you betrayed me too!’ And +then he lay down with a heavy groan, and said, ‘Now let the world go as +it will. I care for nothing more!’ +</p> + +<p> +After a time, he told his attendants to take him to the French town of +Chinon—a town he had been fond of, during many years. But he was fond of +no place now; it was too true that he could care for nothing more upon this +earth. He wildly cursed the hour when he was born, and cursed the children whom +he left behind him; and expired. +</p> + +<p> +As, one hundred years before, the servile followers of the Court had abandoned +the Conqueror in the hour of his death, so they now abandoned his descendant. +The very body was stripped, in the plunder of the Royal chamber; and it was not +easy to find the means of carrying it for burial to the abbey church of +Fontevraud. +</p> + +<p> +Richard was said in after years, by way of flattery, to have the heart of a +Lion. It would have been far better, I think, to have had the heart of a Man. +His heart, whatever it was, had cause to beat remorsefully within his breast, +when he came—as he did—into the solemn abbey, and looked on his +dead father’s uncovered face. His heart, whatever it was, had been a +black and perjured heart, in all its dealings with the deceased King, and more +deficient in a single touch of tenderness than any wild beast’s in the +forest. +</p> + +<p> +There is a pretty story told of this Reign, called the story of <span +class="smcap">Fair Rosamond</span>. It relates how the King doted on Fair +Rosamond, who was the loveliest girl in all the world; and how he had a +beautiful Bower built for her in a Park at Woodstock; and how it was erected in +a labyrinth, and could only be found by a clue of silk. How the bad Queen +Eleanor, becoming jealous of Fair Rosamond, found out the secret of the clue, +and one day, appeared before her, with a dagger and a cup of poison, and left +her to the choice between those deaths. How Fair Rosamond, after shedding many +piteous tears and offering many useless prayers to the cruel Queen, took the +poison, and fell dead in the midst of the beautiful bower, while the +unconscious birds sang gaily all around her. +</p> + +<p> +Now, there <i>was</i> a fair Rosamond, and she was (I dare say) the loveliest +girl in all the world, and the King was certainly very fond of her, and the bad +Queen Eleanor was certainly made jealous. But I am afraid—I say afraid, +because I like the story so much—that there was no bower, no labyrinth, +no silken clue, no dagger, no poison. I am afraid fair Rosamond retired to a +nunnery near Oxford, and died there, peaceably; her sister-nuns hanging a +silken drapery over her tomb, and often dressing it with flowers, in +remembrance of the youth and beauty that had enchanted the King when he too was +young, and when his life lay fair before him. +</p> + +<p> +It was dark and ended now; faded and gone. Henry Plantagenet lay quiet in the +abbey church of Fontevraud, in the fifty-seventh year of his age—never to +be completed—after governing England well, for nearly thirty-five years. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap13"></a>CHAPTER XIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE FIRST, CALLED THE LION-HEART</h2> + +<p> +In the year of our Lord one thousand one hundred and eighty-nine, Richard of +the Lion Heart succeeded to the throne of King Henry the Second, whose paternal +heart he had done so much to break. He had been, as we have seen, a rebel from +his boyhood; but, the moment he became a king against whom others might rebel, +he found out that rebellion was a great wickedness. In the heat of this pious +discovery, he punished all the leading people who had befriended him against +his father. He could scarcely have done anything that would have been a better +instance of his real nature, or a better warning to fawners and parasites not +to trust in lion-hearted princes. +</p> + +<p> +He likewise put his late father’s treasurer in chains, and locked him up +in a dungeon from which he was not set free until he had relinquished, not only +all the Crown treasure, but all his own money too. So, Richard certainly got +the Lion’s share of the wealth of this wretched treasurer, whether he had +a Lion’s heart or not. +</p> + +<p> +He was crowned King of England, with great pomp, at Westminster: walking to the +Cathedral under a silken canopy stretched on the tops of four lances, each +carried by a great lord. On the day of his coronation, a dreadful murdering of +the Jews took place, which seems to have given great delight to numbers of +savage persons calling themselves Christians. The King had issued a +proclamation forbidding the Jews (who were generally hated, though they were +the most useful merchants in England) to appear at the ceremony; but as they +had assembled in London from all parts, bringing presents to show their respect +for the new Sovereign, some of them ventured down to Westminster Hall with +their gifts; which were very readily accepted. It is supposed, now, that some +noisy fellow in the crowd, pretending to be a very delicate Christian, set up a +howl at this, and struck a Jew who was trying to get in at the Hall door with +his present. A riot arose. The Jews who had got into the Hall, were driven +forth; and some of the rabble cried out that the new King had commanded the +unbelieving race to be put to death. Thereupon the crowd rushed through the +narrow streets of the city, slaughtering all the Jews they met; and when they +could find no more out of doors (on account of their having fled to their +houses, and fastened themselves in), they ran madly about, breaking open all +the houses where the Jews lived, rushing in and stabbing or spearing them, +sometimes even flinging old people and children out of window into blazing +fires they had lighted up below. This great cruelty lasted four-and-twenty +hours, and only three men were punished for it. Even they forfeited their lives +not for murdering and robbing the Jews, but for burning the houses of some +Christians. +</p> + +<p> +King Richard, who was a strong, restless, burly man, with one idea always in +his head, and that the very troublesome idea of breaking the heads of other +men, was mightily impatient to go on a Crusade to the Holy Land, with a great +army. As great armies could not be raised to go, even to the Holy Land, without +a great deal of money, he sold the Crown domains, and even the high offices of +State; recklessly appointing noblemen to rule over his English subjects, not +because they were fit to govern, but because they could pay high for the +privilege. In this way, and by selling pardons at a dear rate and by varieties +of avarice and oppression, he scraped together a large treasure. He then +appointed two Bishops to take care of his kingdom in his absence, and gave +great powers and possessions to his brother John, to secure his friendship. +John would rather have been made Regent of England; but he was a sly man, and +friendly to the expedition; saying to himself, no doubt, ‘The more +fighting, the more chance of my brother being killed; and when he <i>is</i> +killed, then I become King John!’ +</p> + +<p> +Before the newly levied army departed from England, the recruits and the +general populace distinguished themselves by astonishing cruelties on the +unfortunate Jews: whom, in many large towns, they murdered by hundreds in the +most horrible manner. +</p> + +<p> +At York, a large body of Jews took refuge in the Castle, in the absence of its +Governor, after the wives and children of many of them had been slain before +their eyes. Presently came the Governor, and demanded admission. ‘How can +we give it thee, O Governor!’ said the Jews upon the walls, ‘when, +if we open the gate by so much as the width of a foot, the roaring crowd behind +thee will press in and kill us?’ +</p> + +<p> +Upon this, the unjust Governor became angry, and told the people that he +approved of their killing those Jews; and a mischievous maniac of a friar, +dressed all in white, put himself at the head of the assault, and they +assaulted the Castle for three days. +</p> + +<p> +Then said <span class="smcap">Jocen</span>, the head-Jew (who was a Rabbi or +Priest), to the rest, ‘Brethren, there is no hope for us with the +Christians who are hammering at the gates and walls, and who must soon break +in. As we and our wives and children must die, either by Christian hands, or by +our own, let it be by our own. Let us destroy by fire what jewels and other +treasure we have here, then fire the castle, and then perish!’ +</p> + +<p> +A few could not resolve to do this, but the greater part complied. They made a +blazing heap of all their valuables, and, when those were consumed, set the +castle in flames. While the flames roared and crackled around them, and +shooting up into the sky, turned it blood-red, Jocen cut the throat of his +beloved wife, and stabbed himself. All the others who had wives or children, +did the like dreadful deed. When the populace broke in, they found (except the +trembling few, cowering in corners, whom they soon killed) only heaps of greasy +cinders, with here and there something like part of the blackened trunk of a +burnt tree, but which had lately been a human creature, formed by the +beneficent hand of the Creator as they were. +</p> + +<p> +After this bad beginning, Richard and his troops went on, in no very good +manner, with the Holy Crusade. It was undertaken jointly by the King of England +and his old friend Philip of France. They commenced the business by reviewing +their forces, to the number of one hundred thousand men. Afterwards, they +severally embarked their troops for Messina, in Sicily, which was appointed as +the next place of meeting. +</p> + +<p> +King Richard’s sister had married the King of this place, but he was +dead: and his uncle <span class="smcap">Tancred</span> had usurped the crown, +cast the Royal Widow into prison, and possessed himself of her estates. Richard +fiercely demanded his sister’s release, the restoration of her lands, and +(according to the Royal custom of the Island) that she should have a golden +chair, a golden table, four-and-twenty silver cups, and four-and-twenty silver +dishes. As he was too powerful to be successfully resisted, Tancred yielded to +his demands; and then the French King grew jealous, and complained that the +English King wanted to be absolute in the Island of Messina and everywhere +else. Richard, however, cared little or nothing for this complaint; and in +consideration of a present of twenty thousand pieces of gold, promised his +pretty little nephew <span class="smcap">Arthur</span>, then a child of two +years old, in marriage to Tancred’s daughter. We shall hear again of +pretty little Arthur by-and-by. +</p> + +<p> +This Sicilian affair arranged without anybody’s brains being knocked out +(which must have rather disappointed him), King Richard took his sister away, +and also a fair lady named <span class="smcap">Berengaria</span>, with whom he +had fallen in love in France, and whom his mother, Queen Eleanor (so long in +prison, you remember, but released by Richard on his coming to the Throne), had +brought out there to be his wife; and sailed with them for Cyprus. +</p> + +<p> +He soon had the pleasure of fighting the King of the Island of Cyprus, for +allowing his subjects to pillage some of the English troops who were +shipwrecked on the shore; and easily conquering this poor monarch, he seized +his only daughter, to be a companion to the lady Berengaria, and put the King +himself into silver fetters. He then sailed away again with his mother, sister, +wife, and the captive princess; and soon arrived before the town of Acre, which +the French King with his fleet was besieging from the sea. But the French King +was in no triumphant condition, for his army had been thinned by the swords of +the Saracens, and wasted by the plague; and <span class="smcap">Saladin</span>, +the brave Sultan of the Turks, at the head of a numerous army, was at that time +gallantly defending the place from the hills that rise above it. +</p> + +<p> +Wherever the united army of Crusaders went, they agreed in few points except in +gaming, drinking, and quarrelling, in a most unholy manner; in debauching the +people among whom they tarried, whether they were friends or foes; and in +carrying disturbance and ruin into quiet places. The French King was jealous of +the English King, and the English King was jealous of the French King, and the +disorderly and violent soldiers of the two nations were jealous of one another; +consequently, the two Kings could not at first agree, even upon a joint assault +on Acre; but when they did make up their quarrel for that purpose, the Saracens +promised to yield the town, to give up to the Christians the wood of the Holy +Cross, to set at liberty all their Christian captives, and to pay two hundred +thousand pieces of gold. All this was to be done within forty days; but, not +being done, King Richard ordered some three thousand Saracen prisoners to be +brought out in the front of his camp, and there, in full view of their own +countrymen, to be butchered. +</p> + +<p> +The French King had no part in this crime; for he was by that time travelling +homeward with the greater part of his men; being offended by the overbearing +conduct of the English King; being anxious to look after his own dominions; and +being ill, besides, from the unwholesome air of that hot and sandy country. +King Richard carried on the war without him; and remained in the East, meeting +with a variety of adventures, nearly a year and a half. Every night when his +army was on the march, and came to a halt, the heralds cried out three times, +to remind all the soldiers of the cause in which they were engaged, ‘Save +the Holy Sepulchre!’ and then all the soldiers knelt and said +‘Amen!’ Marching or encamping, the army had continually to strive +with the hot air of the glaring desert, or with the Saracen soldiers animated +and directed by the brave Saladin, or with both together. Sickness and death, +battle and wounds, were always among them; but through every difficulty King +Richard fought like a giant, and worked like a common labourer. Long and long +after he was quiet in his grave, his terrible battle-axe, with twenty English +pounds of English steel in its mighty head, was a legend among the Saracens; +and when all the Saracen and Christian hosts had been dust for many a year, if +a Saracen horse started at any object by the wayside, his rider would exclaim, +‘What dost thou fear, Fool? Dost thou think King Richard is behind +it?’ +</p> + +<p> +No one admired this King’s renown for bravery more than Saladin himself, +who was a generous and gallant enemy. When Richard lay ill of a fever, Saladin +sent him fresh fruits from Damascus, and snow from the mountain-tops. Courtly +messages and compliments were frequently exchanged between them—and then +King Richard would mount his horse and kill as many Saracens as he could; and +Saladin would mount his, and kill as many Christians as he could. In this way +King Richard fought to his heart’s content at Arsoof and at Jaffa; and +finding himself with nothing exciting to do at Ascalon, except to rebuild, for +his own defence, some fortifications there which the Saracens had destroyed, he +kicked his ally the Duke of Austria, for being too proud to work at them. +</p> + +<p> +The army at last came within sight of the Holy City of Jerusalem; but, being +then a mere nest of jealousy, and quarrelling and fighting, soon retired, and +agreed with the Saracens upon a truce for three years, three months, three +days, and three hours. Then, the English Christians, protected by the noble +Saladin from Saracen revenge, visited Our Saviour’s tomb; and then King +Richard embarked with a small force at Acre to return home. +</p> + +<p> +But he was shipwrecked in the Adriatic Sea, and was fain to pass through +Germany, under an assumed name. Now, there were many people in Germany who had +served in the Holy Land under that proud Duke of Austria who had been kicked; +and some of them, easily recognising a man so remarkable as King Richard, +carried their intelligence to the kicked Duke, who straightway took him +prisoner at a little inn near Vienna. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke’s master the Emperor of Germany, and the King of France, were +equally delighted to have so troublesome a monarch in safe keeping. Friendships +which are founded on a partnership in doing wrong, are never true; and the King +of France was now quite as heartily King Richard’s foe, as he had ever +been his friend in his unnatural conduct to his father. He monstrously +pretended that King Richard had designed to poison him in the East; he charged +him with having murdered, there, a man whom he had in truth befriended; he +bribed the Emperor of Germany to keep him close prisoner; and, finally, through +the plotting of these two princes, Richard was brought before the German +legislature, charged with the foregoing crimes, and many others. But he +defended himself so well, that many of the assembly were moved to tears by his +eloquence and earnestness. It was decided that he should be treated, during the +rest of his captivity, in a manner more becoming his dignity than he had been, +and that he should be set free on the payment of a heavy ransom. This ransom +the English people willingly raised. When Queen Eleanor took it over to +Germany, it was at first evaded and refused. But she appealed to the honour of +all the princes of the German Empire in behalf of her son, and appealed so well +that it was accepted, and the King released. Thereupon, the King of France +wrote to Prince John—‘Take care of thyself. The devil is +unchained!’ +</p> + +<p> +Prince John had reason to fear his brother, for he had been a traitor to him in +his captivity. He had secretly joined the French King; had vowed to the English +nobles and people that his brother was dead; and had vainly tried to seize the +crown. He was now in France, at a place called Evreux. Being the meanest and +basest of men, he contrived a mean and base expedient for making himself +acceptable to his brother. He invited the French officers of the garrison in +that town to dinner, murdered them all, and then took the fortress. With this +recommendation to the good will of a lion-hearted monarch, he hastened to King +Richard, fell on his knees before him, and obtained the intercession of Queen +Eleanor. ‘I forgive him,’ said the King, ‘and I hope I may +forget the injury he has done me, as easily as I know he will forget my +pardon.’ +</p> + +<p> +While King Richard was in Sicily, there had been trouble in his dominions at +home: one of the bishops whom he had left in charge thereof, arresting the +other; and making, in his pride and ambition, as great a show as if he were +King himself. But the King hearing of it at Messina, and appointing a new +Regency, this <span class="smcap">Longchamp</span> (for that was his name) had +fled to France in a woman’s dress, and had there been encouraged and +supported by the French King. With all these causes of offence against Philip +in his mind, King Richard had no sooner been welcomed home by his enthusiastic +subjects with great display and splendour, and had no sooner been crowned +afresh at Winchester, than he resolved to show the French King that the Devil +was unchained indeed, and made war against him with great fury. +</p> + +<p> +There was fresh trouble at home about this time, arising out of the discontents +of the poor people, who complained that they were far more heavily taxed than +the rich, and who found a spirited champion in <span class="smcap">William +Fitz-Osbert</span>, called <span class="smcap">Longbeard</span>. He became the +leader of a secret society, comprising fifty thousand men; he was seized by +surprise; he stabbed the citizen who first laid hands upon him; and retreated, +bravely fighting, to a church, which he maintained four days, until he was +dislodged by fire, and run through the body as he came out. He was not killed, +though; for he was dragged, half dead, at the tail of a horse to Smithfield, +and there hanged. Death was long a favourite remedy for silencing the +people’s advocates; but as we go on with this history, I fancy we shall +find them difficult to make an end of, for all that. +</p> + +<p> +The French war, delayed occasionally by a truce, was still in progress when a +certain Lord named <span class="smcap">Vidomar</span>, Viscount of Limoges, +chanced to find in his ground a treasure of ancient coins. As the King’s +vassal, he sent the King half of it; but the King claimed the whole. The lord +refused to yield the whole. The King besieged the lord in his castle, swore +that he would take the castle by storm, and hang every man of its defenders on +the battlements. +</p> + +<p> +There was a strange old song in that part of the country, to the effect that in +Limoges an arrow would be made by which King Richard would die. It may be that +<span class="smcap">Bertrand de Gourdon</span>, a young man who was one of the +defenders of the castle, had often sung it or heard it sung of a winter night, +and remembered it when he saw, from his post upon the ramparts, the King +attended only by his chief officer riding below the walls surveying the place. +He drew an arrow to the head, took steady aim, said between his teeth, +‘Now I pray God speed thee well, arrow!’ discharged it, and struck +the King in the left shoulder. +</p> + +<p> +Although the wound was not at first considered dangerous, it was severe enough +to cause the King to retire to his tent, and direct the assault to be made +without him. The castle was taken; and every man of its defenders was hanged, +as the King had sworn all should be, except Bertrand de Gourdon, who was +reserved until the royal pleasure respecting him should be known. +</p> + +<p> +By that time unskilful treatment had made the wound mortal and the King knew +that he was dying. He directed Bertrand to be brought into his tent. The young +man was brought there, heavily chained, King Richard looked at him steadily. He +looked, as steadily, at the King. +</p> + +<p> +‘Knave!’ said King Richard. ‘What have I done to thee that +thou shouldest take my life?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘What hast thou done to me?’ replied the young man. ‘With +thine own hands thou hast killed my father and my two brothers. Myself thou +wouldest have hanged. Let me die now, by any torture that thou wilt. My comfort +is, that no torture can save Thee. Thou too must die; and, through me, the +world is quit of thee!’ +</p> + +<p> +Again the King looked at the young man steadily. Again the young man looked +steadily at him. Perhaps some remembrance of his generous enemy Saladin, who +was not a Christian, came into the mind of the dying King. +</p> + +<p> +‘Youth!’ he said, ‘I forgive thee. Go unhurt!’ Then, +turning to the chief officer who had been riding in his company when he +received the wound, King Richard said: +</p> + +<p> +‘Take off his chains, give him a hundred shillings, and let him +depart.’ +</p> + +<p> +He sunk down on his couch, and a dark mist seemed in his weakened eyes to fill +the tent wherein he had so often rested, and he died. His age was forty-two; he +had reigned ten years. His last command was not obeyed; for the chief officer +flayed Bertrand de Gourdon alive, and hanged him. +</p> + +<p> +There is an old tune yet known—a sorrowful air will sometimes outlive +many generations of strong men, and even last longer than battle-axes with +twenty pounds of steel in the head—by which this King is said to have +been discovered in his captivity. <span class="smcap">Blondel</span>, a +favourite Minstrel of King Richard, as the story relates, faithfully seeking +his Royal master, went singing it outside the gloomy walls of many foreign +fortresses and prisons; until at last he heard it echoed from within a dungeon, +and knew the voice, and cried out in ecstasy, ‘O Richard, O my +King!’ You may believe it, if you like; it would be easy to believe worse +things. Richard was himself a Minstrel and a Poet. If he had not been a Prince +too, he might have been a better man perhaps, and might have gone out of the +world with less bloodshed and waste of life to answer for. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap14"></a>CHAPTER XIV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER KING JOHN, CALLED LACKLAND</h2> + +<p> +At two-and-thirty years of age, <span class="smcap">John</span> became King of +England. His pretty little nephew <span class="smcap">Arthur</span> had the +best claim to the throne; but John seized the treasure, and made fine promises +to the nobility, and got himself crowned at Westminster within a few weeks +after his brother Richard’s death. I doubt whether the crown could +possibly have been put upon the head of a meaner coward, or a more detestable +villain, if England had been searched from end to end to find him out. +</p> + +<p> +The French King, Philip, refused to acknowledge the right of John to his new +dignity, and declared in favour of Arthur. You must not suppose that he had any +generosity of feeling for the fatherless boy; it merely suited his ambitious +schemes to oppose the King of England. So John and the French King went to war +about Arthur. +</p> + +<p> +He was a handsome boy, at that time only twelve years old. He was not born when +his father, Geoffrey, had his brains trampled out at the tournament; and, +besides the misfortune of never having known a father’s guidance and +protection, he had the additional misfortune to have a foolish mother (<span +class="smcap">Constance</span> by name), lately married to her third husband. +She took Arthur, upon John’s accession, to the French King, who pretended +to be very much his friend, and who made him a Knight, and promised him his +daughter in marriage; but, who cared so little about him in reality, that +finding it his interest to make peace with King John for a time, he did so +without the least consideration for the poor little Prince, and heartlessly +sacrificed all his interests. +</p> + +<p> +Young Arthur, for two years afterwards, lived quietly; and in the course of +that time his mother died. But, the French King then finding it his interest to +quarrel with King John again, again made Arthur his pretence, and invited the +orphan boy to court. ‘You know your rights, Prince,’ said the +French King, ‘and you would like to be a King. Is it not so?’ +‘Truly,’ said Prince Arthur, ‘I should greatly like to be a +King!’ ‘Then,’ said Philip, ‘you shall have two hundred +gentlemen who are Knights of mine, and with them you shall go to win back the +provinces belonging to you, of which your uncle, the usurping King of England, +has taken possession. I myself, meanwhile, will head a force against him in +Normandy.’ Poor Arthur was so flattered and so grateful that he signed a +treaty with the crafty French King, agreeing to consider him his superior Lord, +and that the French King should keep for himself whatever he could take from +King John. +</p> + +<p> +Now, King John was so bad in all ways, and King Philip was so perfidious, that +Arthur, between the two, might as well have been a lamb between a fox and a +wolf. But, being so young, he was ardent and flushed with hope; and, when the +people of Brittany (which was his inheritance) sent him five hundred more +knights and five thousand foot soldiers, he believed his fortune was made. The +people of Brittany had been fond of him from his birth, and had requested that +he might be called Arthur, in remembrance of that dimly-famous English Arthur, +of whom I told you early in this book, whom they believed to have been the +brave friend and companion of an old King of their own. They had tales among +them about a prophet called <span class="smcap">Merlin</span> (of the same old +time), who had foretold that their own King should be restored to them after +hundreds of years; and they believed that the prophecy would be fulfilled in +Arthur; that the time would come when he would rule them with a crown of +Brittany upon his head; and when neither King of France nor King of England +would have any power over them. When Arthur found himself riding in a +glittering suit of armour on a richly caparisoned horse, at the head of his +train of knights and soldiers, he began to believe this too, and to consider +old Merlin a very superior prophet. +</p> + +<p> +He did not know—how could he, being so innocent and +inexperienced?—that his little army was a mere nothing against the power +of the King of England. The French King knew it; but the poor boy’s fate +was little to him, so that the King of England was worried and distressed. +Therefore, King Philip went his way into Normandy and Prince Arthur went his +way towards Mirebeau, a French town near Poictiers, both very well pleased. +</p> + +<p> +Prince Arthur went to attack the town of Mirebeau, because his grandmother +Eleanor, who has so often made her appearance in this history (and who had +always been his mother’s enemy), was living there, and because his +Knights said, ‘Prince, if you can take her prisoner, you will be able to +bring the King your uncle to terms!’ But she was not to be easily taken. +She was old enough by this time—eighty—but she was as full of +stratagem as she was full of years and wickedness. Receiving intelligence of +young Arthur’s approach, she shut herself up in a high tower, and +encouraged her soldiers to defend it like men. Prince Arthur with his little +army besieged the high tower. King John, hearing how matters stood, came up to +the rescue, with <i>his</i> army. So here was a strange family-party! The +boy-Prince besieging his grandmother, and his uncle besieging him! +</p> + +<p> +This position of affairs did not last long. One summer night King John, by +treachery, got his men into the town, surprised Prince Arthur’s force, +took two hundred of his knights, and seized the Prince himself in his bed. The +Knights were put in heavy irons, and driven away in open carts drawn by +bullocks, to various dungeons where they were most inhumanly treated, and where +some of them were starved to death. Prince Arthur was sent to the castle of +Falaise. +</p> + +<p> +One day, while he was in prison at that castle, mournfully thinking it strange +that one so young should be in so much trouble, and looking out of the small +window in the deep dark wall, at the summer sky and the birds, the door was +softly opened, and he saw his uncle the King standing in the shadow of the +archway, looking very grim. +</p> + +<p> +‘Arthur,’ said the King, with his wicked eyes more on the stone +floor than on his nephew, ‘will you not trust to the gentleness, the +friendship, and the truthfulness of your loving uncle?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘I will tell my loving uncle that,’ replied the boy, ‘when he +does me right. Let him restore to me my kingdom of England, and then come to me +and ask the question.’ +</p> + +<p> +The King looked at him and went out. ‘Keep that boy close +prisoner,’ said he to the warden of the castle. +</p> + +<p> +Then, the King took secret counsel with the worst of his nobles how the Prince +was to be got rid of. Some said, ‘Put out his eyes and keep him in +prison, as Robort of Normandy was kept.’ Others said, ‘Have him +stabbed.’ Others, ‘Have him hanged.’ Others, ‘Have him +poisoned.’ +</p> + +<p> +King John, feeling that in any case, whatever was done afterwards, it would be +a satisfaction to his mind to have those handsome eyes burnt out that had +looked at him so proudly while his own royal eyes were blinking at the stone +floor, sent certain ruffians to Falaise to blind the boy with red-hot irons. +But Arthur so pathetically entreated them, and shed such piteous tears, and so +appealed to <span class="smcap">Hubert de Bourg</span> (or <span +class="smcap">Burgh</span>), the warden of the castle, who had a love for him, +and was an honourable, tender man, that Hubert could not bear it. To his +eternal honour he prevented the torture from being performed, and, at his own +risk, sent the savages away. +</p> + +<p> +The chafed and disappointed King bethought himself of the stabbing suggestion +next, and, with his shuffling manner and his cruel face, proposed it to one +William de Bray. ‘I am a gentleman and not an executioner,’ said +William de Bray, and left the presence with disdain. +</p> + +<p> +But it was not difficult for a King to hire a murderer in those days. King John +found one for his money, and sent him down to the castle of Falaise. ‘On +what errand dost thou come?’ said Hubert to this fellow. ‘To +despatch young Arthur,’ he returned. ‘Go back to him who sent +thee,’ answered Hubert, ‘and say that I will do it!’ +</p> + +<p> +King John very well knowing that Hubert would never do it, but that he +courageously sent this reply to save the Prince or gain time, despatched +messengers to convey the young prisoner to the castle of Rouen. +</p> + +<p> +Arthur was soon forced from the good Hubert—of whom he had never stood in +greater need than then—carried away by night, and lodged in his new +prison: where, through his grated window, he could hear the deep waters of the +river Seine, rippling against the stone wall below. +</p> + +<p> +One dark night, as he lay sleeping, dreaming perhaps of rescue by those +unfortunate gentlemen who were obscurely suffering and dying in his cause, he +was roused, and bidden by his jailer to come down the staircase to the foot of +the tower. He hurriedly dressed himself and obeyed. When they came to the +bottom of the winding stairs, and the night air from the river blew upon their +faces, the jailer trod upon his torch and put it out. Then, Arthur, in the +darkness, was hurriedly drawn into a solitary boat. And in that boat, he found +his uncle and one other man. +</p> + +<p> +He knelt to them, and prayed them not to murder him. Deaf to his entreaties, +they stabbed him and sunk his body in the river with heavy stones. When the +spring-morning broke, the tower-door was closed, the boat was gone, the river +sparkled on its way, and never more was any trace of the poor boy beheld by +mortal eyes. +</p> + +<p> +The news of this atrocious murder being spread in England, awakened a hatred of +the King (already odious for his many vices, and for his having stolen away and +married a noble lady while his own wife was living) that never slept again +through his whole reign. In Brittany, the indignation was intense. +Arthur’s own sister <span class="smcap">Eleanor</span> was in the power +of John and shut up in a convent at Bristol, but his half-sister <span +class="smcap">Alice</span> was in Brittany. The people chose her, and the +murdered prince’s father-in-law, the last husband of Constance, to +represent them; and carried their fiery complaints to King Philip. King Philip +summoned King John (as the holder of territory in France) to come before him +and defend himself. King John refusing to appear, King Philip declared him +false, perjured, and guilty; and again made war. In a little time, by +conquering the greater part of his French territory, King Philip deprived him +of one-third of his dominions. And, through all the fighting that took place, +King John was always found, either to be eating and drinking, like a gluttonous +fool, when the danger was at a distance, or to be running away, like a beaten +cur, when it was near. +</p> + +<p> +You might suppose that when he was losing his dominions at this rate, and when +his own nobles cared so little for him or his cause that they plainly refused +to follow his banner out of England, he had enemies enough. But he made another +enemy of the Pope, which he did in this way. +</p> + +<p> +The Archbishop of Canterbury dying, and the junior monks of that place wishing +to get the start of the senior monks in the appointment of his successor, met +together at midnight, secretly elected a certain <span +class="smcap">Reginald</span>, and sent him off to Rome to get the Pope’s +approval. The senior monks and the King soon finding this out, and being very +angry about it, the junior monks gave way, and all the monks together elected +the Bishop of Norwich, who was the King’s favourite. The Pope, hearing +the whole story, declared that neither election would do for him, and that +<i>he</i> elected <span class="smcap">Stephen Langton</span>. The monks +submitting to the Pope, the King turned them all out bodily, and banished them +as traitors. The Pope sent three bishops to the King, to threaten him with an +Interdict. The King told the bishops that if any Interdict were laid upon his +kingdom, he would tear out the eyes and cut off the noses of all the monks he +could lay hold of, and send them over to Rome in that undecorated state as a +present for their master. The bishops, nevertheless, soon published the +Interdict, and fled. +</p> + +<p> +After it had lasted a year, the Pope proceeded to his next step; which was +Excommunication. King John was declared excommunicated, with all the usual +ceremonies. The King was so incensed at this, and was made so desperate by the +disaffection of his Barons and the hatred of his people, that it is said he +even privately sent ambassadors to the Turks in Spain, offering to renounce his +religion and hold his kingdom of them if they would help him. It is related +that the ambassadors were admitted to the presence of the Turkish Emir through +long lines of Moorish guards, and that they found the Emir with his eyes +seriously fixed on the pages of a large book, from which he never once looked +up. That they gave him a letter from the King containing his proposals, and +were gravely dismissed. That presently the Emir sent for one of them, and +conjured him, by his faith in his religion, to say what kind of man the King of +England truly was? That the ambassador, thus pressed, replied that the King of +England was a false tyrant, against whom his own subjects would soon rise. And +that this was quite enough for the Emir. +</p> + +<p> +Money being, in his position, the next best thing to men, King John spared no +means of getting it. He set on foot another oppressing and torturing of the +unhappy Jews (which was quite in his way), and invented a new punishment for +one wealthy Jew of Bristol. Until such time as that Jew should produce a +certain large sum of money, the King sentenced him to be imprisoned, and, every +day, to have one tooth violently wrenched out of his head—beginning with +the double teeth. For seven days, the oppressed man bore the daily pain and +lost the daily tooth; but, on the eighth, he paid the money. With the treasure +raised in such ways, the King made an expedition into Ireland, where some +English nobles had revolted. It was one of the very few places from which he +did not run away; because no resistance was shown. He made another expedition +into Wales—whence he <i>did</i> run away in the end: but not before he +had got from the Welsh people, as hostages, twenty-seven young men of the best +families; every one of whom he caused to be slain in the following year. +</p> + +<p> +To Interdict and Excommunication, the Pope now added his last sentence; +Deposition. He proclaimed John no longer King, absolved all his subjects from +their allegiance, and sent Stephen Langton and others to the King of France to +tell him that, if he would invade England, he should be forgiven all his +sins—at least, should be forgiven them by the Pope, if that would do. +</p> + +<p> +As there was nothing that King Philip desired more than to invade England, he +collected a great army at Rouen, and a fleet of seventeen hundred ships to +bring them over. But the English people, however bitterly they hated the King, +were not a people to suffer invasion quietly. They flocked to Dover, where the +English standard was, in such great numbers to enrol themselves as defenders of +their native land, that there were not provisions for them, and the King could +only select and retain sixty thousand. But, at this crisis, the Pope, who had +his own reasons for objecting to either King John or King Philip being too +powerful, interfered. He entrusted a legate, whose name was <span +class="smcap">Pandolf</span>, with the easy task of frightening King John. He +sent him to the English Camp, from France, to terrify him with exaggerations of +King Philip’s power, and his own weakness in the discontent of the +English Barons and people. Pandolf discharged his commission so well, that King +John, in a wretched panic, consented to acknowledge Stephen Langton; to resign +his kingdom ‘to God, Saint Peter, and Saint Paul’—which meant +the Pope; and to hold it, ever afterwards, by the Pope’s leave, on +payment of an annual sum of money. To this shameful contract he publicly bound +himself in the church of the Knights Templars at Dover: where he laid at the +legate’s feet a part of the tribute, which the legate haughtily trampled +upon. But they <i>do</i> say, that this was merely a genteel flourish, and that +he was afterwards seen to pick it up and pocket it. +</p> + +<p> +There was an unfortunate prophet, the name of Peter, who had greatly increased +King John’s terrors by predicting that he would be unknighted (which the +King supposed to signify that he would die) before the Feast of the Ascension +should be past. That was the day after this humiliation. When the next morning +came, and the King, who had been trembling all night, found himself alive and +safe, he ordered the prophet—and his son too—to be dragged through +the streets at the tails of horses, and then hanged, for having frightened him. +</p> + +<p> +As King John had now submitted, the Pope, to King Philip’s great +astonishment, took him under his protection, and informed King Philip that he +found he could not give him leave to invade England. The angry Philip resolved +to do it without his leave but he gained nothing and lost much; for, the +English, commanded by the Earl of Salisbury, went over, in five hundred ships, +to the French coast, before the French fleet had sailed away from it, and +utterly defeated the whole. +</p> + +<p> +The Pope then took off his three sentences, one after another, and empowered +Stephen Langton publicly to receive King John into the favour of the Church +again, and to ask him to dinner. The King, who hated Langton with all his might +and main—and with reason too, for he was a great and a good man, with +whom such a King could have no sympathy—pretended to cry and to be +<i>very</i> grateful. There was a little difficulty about settling how much the +King should pay as a recompense to the clergy for the losses he had caused +them; but, the end of it was, that the superior clergy got a good deal, and the +inferior clergy got little or nothing—which has also happened since King +John’s time, I believe. +</p> + +<p> +When all these matters were arranged, the King in his triumph became more +fierce, and false, and insolent to all around him than he had ever been. An +alliance of sovereigns against King Philip, gave him an opportunity of landing +an army in France; with which he even took a town! But, on the French +King’s gaining a great victory, he ran away, of course, and made a truce +for five years. +</p> + +<p> +And now the time approached when he was to be still further humbled, and made +to feel, if he could feel anything, what a wretched creature he was. Of all men +in the world, Stephen Langton seemed raised up by Heaven to oppose and subdue +him. When he ruthlessly burnt and destroyed the property of his own subjects, +because their Lords, the Barons, would not serve him abroad, Stephen Langton +fearlessly reproved and threatened him. When he swore to restore the laws of +King Edward, or the laws of King Henry the First, Stephen Langton knew his +falsehood, and pursued him through all his evasions. When the Barons met at the +abbey of Saint Edmund’s-Bury, to consider their wrongs and the +King’s oppressions, Stephen Langton roused them by his fervid words to +demand a solemn charter of rights and liberties from their perjured master, and +to swear, one by one, on the High Altar, that they would have it, or would wage +war against him to the death. When the King hid himself in London from the +Barons, and was at last obliged to receive them, they told him roundly they +would not believe him unless Stephen Langton became a surety that he would keep +his word. When he took the Cross to invest himself with some interest, and +belong to something that was received with favour, Stephen Langton was still +immovable. When he appealed to the Pope, and the Pope wrote to Stephen Langton +in behalf of his new favourite, Stephen Langton was deaf, even to the Pope +himself, and saw before him nothing but the welfare of England and the crimes +of the English King. +</p> + +<p> +At Easter-time, the Barons assembled at Stamford, in Lincolnshire, in proud +array, and, marching near to Oxford where the King was, delivered into the +hands of Stephen Langton and two others, a list of grievances. ‘And +these,’ they said, ‘he must redress, or we will do it for +ourselves!’ When Stephen Langton told the King as much, and read the list +to him, he went half mad with rage. But that did him no more good than his +afterwards trying to pacify the Barons with lies. They called themselves and +their followers, ‘The army of God and the Holy Church.’ Marching +through the country, with the people thronging to them everywhere (except at +Northampton, where they failed in an attack upon the castle), they at last +triumphantly set up their banner in London itself, whither the whole land, +tired of the tyrant, seemed to flock to join them. Seven knights alone, of all +the knights in England, remained with the King; who, reduced to this strait, at +last sent the Earl of Pembroke to the Barons to say that he approved of +everything, and would meet them to sign their charter when they would. +‘Then,’ said the Barons, ‘let the day be the fifteenth of +June, and the place, Runny-Mead.’ +</p> + +<p> +On Monday, the fifteenth of June, one thousand two hundred and fourteen, the +King came from Windsor Castle, and the Barons came from the town of Staines, +and they met on Runny-Mead, which is still a pleasant meadow by the Thames, +where rushes grow in the clear water of the winding river, and its banks are +green with grass and trees. On the side of the Barons, came the General of +their army, <span class="smcap">Robert Fitz-Walter</span>, and a great +concourse of the nobility of England. With the King, came, in all, some +four-and-twenty persons of any note, most of whom despised him, and were merely +his advisers in form. On that great day, and in that great company, the King +signed <span class="smcap">Magna Charta</span>—the great charter of +England—by which he pledged himself to maintain the Church in its rights; +to relieve the Barons of oppressive obligations as vassals of the +Crown—of which the Barons, in their turn, pledged themselves to relieve +<i>their</i> vassals, the people; to respect the liberties of London and all +other cities and boroughs; to protect foreign merchants who came to England; to +imprison no man without a fair trial; and to sell, delay, or deny justice to +none. As the Barons knew his falsehood well, they further required, as their +securities, that he should send out of his kingdom all his foreign troops; that +for two months they should hold possession of the city of London, and Stephen +Langton of the Tower; and that five-and-twenty of their body, chosen by +themselves, should be a lawful committee to watch the keeping of the charter, +and to make war upon him if he broke it. +</p> + +<p> +All this he was obliged to yield. He signed the charter with a smile, and, if +he could have looked agreeable, would have done so, as he departed from the +splendid assembly. When he got home to Windsor Castle, he was quite a madman in +his helpless fury. And he broke the charter immediately afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +He sent abroad for foreign soldiers, and sent to the Pope for help, and plotted +to take London by surprise, while the Barons should be holding a great +tournament at Stamford, which they had agreed to hold there as a celebration of +the charter. The Barons, however, found him out and put it off. Then, when the +Barons desired to see him and tax him with his treachery, he made numbers of +appointments with them, and kept none, and shifted from place to place, and was +constantly sneaking and skulking about. At last he appeared at Dover, to join +his foreign soldiers, of whom numbers came into his pay; and with them he +besieged and took Rochester Castle, which was occupied by knights and soldiers +of the Barons. He would have hanged them every one; but the leader of the +foreign soldiers, fearful of what the English people might afterwards do to +him, interfered to save the knights; therefore the King was fain to satisfy his +vengeance with the death of all the common men. Then, he sent the Earl of +Salisbury, with one portion of his army, to ravage the eastern part of his own +dominions, while he carried fire and slaughter into the northern part; +torturing, plundering, killing, and inflicting every possible cruelty upon the +people; and, every morning, setting a worthy example to his men by setting +fire, with his own monster-hands, to the house where he had slept last night. +Nor was this all; for the Pope, coming to the aid of his precious friend, laid +the kingdom under an Interdict again, because the people took part with the +Barons. It did not much matter, for the people had grown so used to it now, +that they had begun to think nothing about it. It occurred to +them—perhaps to Stephen Langton too—that they could keep their +churches open, and ring their bells, without the Pope’s permission as +well as with it. So, they tried the experiment—and found that it +succeeded perfectly. +</p> + +<p> +It being now impossible to bear the country, as a wilderness of cruelty, or +longer to hold any terms with such a forsworn outlaw of a King, the Barons sent +to Louis, son of the French monarch, to offer him the English crown. Caring as +little for the Pope’s excommunication of him if he accepted the offer, as +it is possible his father may have cared for the Pope’s forgiveness of +his sins, he landed at Sandwich (King John immediately running away from Dover, +where he happened to be), and went on to London. The Scottish King, with whom +many of the Northern English Lords had taken refuge, numbers of the foreign +soldiers, numbers of the Barons, and numbers of the people went over to him +every day;—King John, the while, continually running away in all +directions. +</p> + +<p> +The career of Louis was checked however, by the suspicions of the Barons, +founded on the dying declaration of a French Lord, that when the kingdom was +conquered he was sworn to banish them as traitors, and to give their estates to +some of his own Nobles. Rather than suffer this, some of the Barons hesitated: +others even went over to King John. +</p> + +<p> +It seemed to be the turning-point of King John’s fortunes, for, in his +savage and murderous course, he had now taken some towns and met with some +successes. But, happily for England and humanity, his death was near. Crossing +a dangerous quicksand, called the Wash, not very far from Wisbeach, the tide +came up and nearly drowned his army. He and his soldiers escaped; but, looking +back from the shore when he was safe, he saw the roaring water sweep down in a +torrent, overturn the waggons, horses, and men, that carried his treasure, and +engulf them in a raging whirlpool from which nothing could be delivered. +</p> + +<p> +Cursing, and swearing, and gnawing his fingers, he went on to Swinestead Abbey, +where the monks set before him quantities of pears, and peaches, and new +cider—some say poison too, but there is very little reason to suppose +so—of which he ate and drank in an immoderate and beastly way. All night +he lay ill of a burning fever, and haunted with horrible fears. Next day, they +put him in a horse-litter, and carried him to Sleaford Castle, where he passed +another night of pain and horror. Next day, they carried him, with greater +difficulty than on the day before, to the castle of Newark upon Trent; and +there, on the eighteenth of October, in the forty-ninth year of his age, and +the seventeenth of his vile reign, was an end of this miserable brute. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap15"></a>CHAPTER XV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE THIRD, CALLED, OF WINCHESTER</h2> + +<p> +If any of the English Barons remembered the murdered Arthur’s sister, +Eleanor the fair maid of Brittany, shut up in her convent at Bristol, none +among them spoke of her now, or maintained her right to the Crown. The dead +Usurper’s eldest boy, <span class="smcap">Henry</span> by name, was taken +by the Earl of Pembroke, the Marshal of England, to the city of Gloucester, and +there crowned in great haste when he was only ten years old. As the Crown +itself had been lost with the King’s treasure in the raging water, and as +there was no time to make another, they put a circle of plain gold upon his +head instead. ‘We have been the enemies of this child’s +father,’ said Lord Pembroke, a good and true gentleman, to the few Lords +who were present, ‘and he merited our ill-will; but the child himself is +innocent, and his youth demands our friendship and protection.’ Those +Lords felt tenderly towards the little boy, remembering their own young +children; and they bowed their heads, and said, ‘Long live King Henry the +Third!’ +</p> + +<p> +Next, a great council met at Bristol, revised Magna Charta, and made Lord +Pembroke Regent or Protector of England, as the King was too young to reign +alone. The next thing to be done, was to get rid of Prince Louis of France, and +to win over those English Barons who were still ranged under his banner. He was +strong in many parts of England, and in London itself; and he held, among other +places, a certain Castle called the Castle of Mount Sorel, in Leicestershire. +To this fortress, after some skirmishing and truce-making, Lord Pembroke laid +siege. Louis despatched an army of six hundred knights and twenty thousand +soldiers to relieve it. Lord Pembroke, who was not strong enough for such a +force, retired with all his men. The army of the French Prince, which had +marched there with fire and plunder, marched away with fire and plunder, and +came, in a boastful swaggering manner, to Lincoln. The town submitted; but the +Castle in the town, held by a brave widow lady, named <span +class="smcap">Nichola de Camville</span> (whose property it was), made such a +sturdy resistance, that the French Count in command of the army of the French +Prince found it necessary to besiege this Castle. While he was thus engaged, +word was brought to him that Lord Pembroke, with four hundred knights, two +hundred and fifty men with cross-bows, and a stout force both of horse and +foot, was marching towards him. ‘What care I?’ said the French +Count. ‘The Englishman is not so mad as to attack me and my great army in +a walled town!’ But the Englishman did it for all that, and did +it—not so madly but so wisely, that he decoyed the great army into the +narrow, ill-paved lanes and byways of Lincoln, where its horse-soldiers could +not ride in any strong body; and there he made such havoc with them, that the +whole force surrendered themselves prisoners, except the Count; who said that +he would never yield to any English traitor alive, and accordingly got killed. +The end of this victory, which the English called, for a joke, the Fair of +Lincoln, was the usual one in those times—the common men were slain +without any mercy, and the knights and gentlemen paid ransom and went home. +</p> + +<p> +The wife of Louis, the fair <span class="smcap">Blanche of Castile</span>, +dutifully equipped a fleet of eighty good ships, and sent it over from France +to her husband’s aid. An English fleet of forty ships, some good and some +bad, gallantly met them near the mouth of the Thames, and took or sunk +sixty-five in one fight. This great loss put an end to the French +Prince’s hopes. A treaty was made at Lambeth, in virtue of which the +English Barons who had remained attached to his cause returned to their +allegiance, and it was engaged on both sides that the Prince and all his troops +should retire peacefully to France. It was time to go; for war had made him so +poor that he was obliged to borrow money from the citizens of London to pay his +expenses home. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Pembroke afterwards applied himself to governing the country justly, and +to healing the quarrels and disturbances that had arisen among men in the days +of the bad King John. He caused Magna Charta to be still more improved, and so +amended the Forest Laws that a Peasant was no longer put to death for killing a +stag in a Royal Forest, but was only imprisoned. It would have been well for +England if it could have had so good a Protector many years longer, but that +was not to be. Within three years after the young King’s Coronation, Lord +Pembroke died; and you may see his tomb, at this day, in the old Temple Church +in London. +</p> + +<p> +The Protectorship was now divided. <span class="smcap">Peter de Roches</span>, +whom King John had made Bishop of Winchester, was entrusted with the care of +the person of the young sovereign; and the exercise of the Royal authority was +confided to <span class="smcap">Earl Hubert de Burgh</span>. These two +personages had from the first no liking for each other, and soon became +enemies. When the young King was declared of age, Peter de Roches, finding that +Hubert increased in power and favour, retired discontentedly, and went abroad. +For nearly ten years afterwards Hubert had full sway alone. +</p> + +<p> +But ten years is a long time to hold the favour of a King. This King, too, as +he grew up, showed a strong resemblance to his father, in feebleness, +inconsistency, and irresolution. The best that can be said of him is that he +was not cruel. De Roches coming home again, after ten years, and being a +novelty, the King began to favour him and to look coldly on Hubert. Wanting +money besides, and having made Hubert rich, he began to dislike Hubert. At last +he was made to believe, or pretended to believe, that Hubert had +misappropriated some of the Royal treasure; and ordered him to furnish an +account of all he had done in his administration. Besides which, the foolish +charge was brought against Hubert that he had made himself the King’s +favourite by magic. Hubert very well knowing that he could never defend himself +against such nonsense, and that his old enemy must be determined on his ruin, +instead of answering the charges fled to Merton Abbey. Then the King, in a +violent passion, sent for the Mayor of London, and said to the Mayor, +‘Take twenty thousand citizens, and drag me Hubert de Burgh out of that +abbey, and bring him here.’ The Mayor posted off to do it, but the +Archbishop of Dublin (who was a friend of Hubert’s) warning the King that +an abbey was a sacred place, and that if he committed any violence there, he +must answer for it to the Church, the King changed his mind and called the +Mayor back, and declared that Hubert should have four months to prepare his +defence, and should be safe and free during that time. +</p> + +<p> +Hubert, who relied upon the King’s word, though I think he was old enough +to have known better, came out of Merton Abbey upon these conditions, and +journeyed away to see his wife: a Scottish Princess who was then at St. +Edmund’s-Bury. +</p> + +<p> +Almost as soon as he had departed from the Sanctuary, his enemies persuaded the +weak King to send out one <span class="smcap">Sir Godfrey de Crancumb</span>, +who commanded three hundred vagabonds called the Black Band, with orders to +seize him. They came up with him at a little town in Essex, called Brentwood, +when he was in bed. He leaped out of bed, got out of the house, fled to the +church, ran up to the altar, and laid his hand upon the cross. Sir Godfrey and +the Black Band, caring neither for church, altar, nor cross, dragged him forth +to the church door, with their drawn swords flashing round his head, and sent +for a Smith to rivet a set of chains upon him. When the Smith (I wish I knew +his name!) was brought, all dark and swarthy with the smoke of his forge, and +panting with the speed he had made; and the Black Band, falling aside to show +him the Prisoner, cried with a loud uproar, ‘Make the fetters heavy! make +them strong!’ the Smith dropped upon his knee—but not to the Black +Band—and said, ‘This is the brave Earl Hubert de Burgh, who fought +at Dover Castle, and destroyed the French fleet, and has done his country much +good service. You may kill me, if you like, but I will never make a chain for +Earl Hubert de Burgh!’ +</p> + +<p> +The Black Band never blushed, or they might have blushed at this. They knocked +the Smith about from one to another, and swore at him, and tied the Earl on +horseback, undressed as he was, and carried him off to the Tower of London. The +Bishops, however, were so indignant at the violation of the Sanctuary of the +Church, that the frightened King soon ordered the Black Band to take him back +again; at the same time commanding the Sheriff of Essex to prevent his escaping +out of Brentwood Church. Well! the Sheriff dug a deep trench all round the +church, and erected a high fence, and watched the church night and day; the +Black Band and their Captain watched it too, like three hundred and one black +wolves. For thirty-nine days, Hubert de Burgh remained within. At length, upon +the fortieth day, cold and hunger were too much for him, and he gave himself up +to the Black Band, who carried him off, for the second time, to the Tower. When +his trial came on, he refused to plead; but at last it was arranged that he +should give up all the royal lands which had been bestowed upon him, and should +be kept at the Castle of Devizes, in what was called ‘free prison,’ +in charge of four knights appointed by four lords. There, he remained almost a +year, until, learning that a follower of his old enemy the Bishop was made +Keeper of the Castle, and fearing that he might be killed by treachery, he +climbed the ramparts one dark night, dropped from the top of the high Castle +wall into the moat, and coming safely to the ground, took refuge in another +church. From this place he was delivered by a party of horse despatched to his +help by some nobles, who were by this time in revolt against the King, and +assembled in Wales. He was finally pardoned and restored to his estates, but he +lived privately, and never more aspired to a high post in the realm, or to a +high place in the King’s favour. And thus end—more happily than the +stories of many favourites of Kings—the adventures of Earl Hubert de +Burgh. +</p> + +<p> +The nobles, who had risen in revolt, were stirred up to rebellion by the +overbearing conduct of the Bishop of Winchester, who, finding that the King +secretly hated the Great Charter which had been forced from his father, did his +utmost to confirm him in that dislike, and in the preference he showed to +foreigners over the English. Of this, and of his even publicly declaring that +the Barons of England were inferior to those of France, the English Lords +complained with such bitterness, that the King, finding them well supported by +the clergy, became frightened for his throne, and sent away the Bishop and all +his foreign associates. On his marriage, however, with <span +class="smcap">Eleanor</span>, a French lady, the daughter of the Count of +Provence, he openly favoured the foreigners again; and so many of his +wife’s relations came over, and made such an immense family-party at +court, and got so many good things, and pocketed so much money, and were so +high with the English whose money they pocketed, that the bolder English Barons +murmured openly about a clause there was in the Great Charter, which provided +for the banishment of unreasonable favourites. But, the foreigners only laughed +disdainfully, and said, ‘What are your English laws to us?’ +</p> + +<p> +King Philip of France had died, and had been succeeded by Prince Louis, who had +also died after a short reign of three years, and had been succeeded by his son +of the same name—so moderate and just a man that he was not the least in +the world like a King, as Kings went. <span class="smcap">Isabella</span>, King +Henry’s mother, wished very much (for a certain spite she had) that +England should make war against this King; and, as King Henry was a mere puppet +in anybody’s hands who knew how to manage his feebleness, she easily +carried her point with him. But, the Parliament were determined to give him no +money for such a war. So, to defy the Parliament, he packed up thirty large +casks of silver—I don’t know how he got so much; I dare say he +screwed it out of the miserable Jews—and put them aboard ship, and went +away himself to carry war into France: accompanied by his mother and his +brother Richard, Earl of Cornwall, who was rich and clever. But he only got +well beaten, and came home. +</p> + +<p> +The good-humour of the Parliament was not restored by this. They reproached the +King with wasting the public money to make greedy foreigners rich, and were so +stern with him, and so determined not to let him have more of it to waste if +they could help it, that he was at his wit’s end for some, and tried so +shamelessly to get all he could from his subjects, by excuses or by force, that +the people used to say the King was the sturdiest beggar in England. He took +the Cross, thinking to get some money by that means; but, as it was very well +known that he never meant to go on a crusade, he got none. In all this +contention, the Londoners were particularly keen against the King, and the King +hated them warmly in return. Hating or loving, however, made no difference; he +continued in the same condition for nine or ten years, when at last the Barons +said that if he would solemnly confirm their liberties afresh, the Parliament +would vote him a large sum. +</p> + +<p> +As he readily consented, there was a great meeting held in Westminster Hall, +one pleasant day in May, when all the clergy, dressed in their robes and +holding every one of them a burning candle in his hand, stood up (the Barons +being also there) while the Archbishop of Canterbury read the sentence of +excommunication against any man, and all men, who should henceforth, in any +way, infringe the Great Charter of the Kingdom. When he had done, they all put +out their burning candles with a curse upon the soul of any one, and every one, +who should merit that sentence. The King concluded with an oath to keep the +Charter, ‘As I am a man, as I am a Christian, as I am a Knight, as I am a +King!’ +</p> + +<p> +It was easy to make oaths, and easy to break them; and the King did both, as +his father had done before him. He took to his old courses again when he was +supplied with money, and soon cured of their weakness the few who had ever +really trusted him. When his money was gone, and he was once more borrowing and +begging everywhere with a meanness worthy of his nature, he got into a +difficulty with the Pope respecting the Crown of Sicily, which the Pope said he +had a right to give away, and which he offered to King Henry for his second +son, <span class="smcap">Prince Edmund</span>. But, if you or I give away what +we have not got, and what belongs to somebody else, it is likely that the +person to whom we give it, will have some trouble in taking it. It was exactly +so in this case. It was necessary to conquer the Sicilian Crown before it could +be put upon young Edmund’s head. It could not be conquered without money. +The Pope ordered the clergy to raise money. The clergy, however, were not so +obedient to him as usual; they had been disputing with him for some time about +his unjust preference of Italian Priests in England; and they had begun to +doubt whether the King’s chaplain, whom he allowed to be paid for +preaching in seven hundred churches, could possibly be, even by the +Pope’s favour, in seven hundred places at once. ‘The Pope and the +King together,’ said the Bishop of London, ‘may take the mitre off +my head; but, if they do, they will find that I shall put on a soldier’s +helmet. I pay nothing.’ The Bishop of Worcester was as bold as the Bishop +of London, and would pay nothing either. Such sums as the more timid or more +helpless of the clergy did raise were squandered away, without doing any good +to the King, or bringing the Sicilian Crown an inch nearer to Prince +Edmund’s head. The end of the business was, that the Pope gave the Crown +to the brother of the King of France (who conquered it for himself), and sent +the King of England in, a bill of one hundred thousand pounds for the expenses +of not having won it. +</p> + +<p> +The King was now so much distressed that we might almost pity him, if it were +possible to pity a King so shabby and ridiculous. His clever brother, Richard, +had bought the title of King of the Romans from the German people, and was no +longer near him, to help him with advice. The clergy, resisting the very Pope, +were in alliance with the Barons. The Barons were headed by <span +class="smcap">Simon de Montfort</span>, Earl of Leicester, married to King +Henry’s sister, and, though a foreigner himself, the most popular man in +England against the foreign favourites. When the King next met his Parliament, +the Barons, led by this Earl, came before him, armed from head to foot, and +cased in armour. When the Parliament again assembled, in a month’s time, +at Oxford, this Earl was at their head, and the King was obliged to consent, on +oath, to what was called a Committee of Government: consisting of twenty-four +members: twelve chosen by the Barons, and twelve chosen by himself. +</p> + +<p> +But, at a good time for him, his brother Richard came back. Richard’s +first act (the Barons would not admit him into England on other terms) was to +swear to be faithful to the Committee of Government—which he immediately +began to oppose with all his might. Then, the Barons began to quarrel among +themselves; especially the proud Earl of Gloucester with the Earl of Leicester, +who went abroad in disgust. Then, the people began to be dissatisfied with the +Barons, because they did not do enough for them. The King’s chances +seemed so good again at length, that he took heart enough—or caught it +from his brother—to tell the Committee of Government that he abolished +them—as to his oath, never mind that, the Pope said!—and to seize +all the money in the Mint, and to shut himself up in the Tower of London. Here +he was joined by his eldest son, Prince Edward; and, from the Tower, he made +public a letter of the Pope’s to the world in general, informing all men +that he had been an excellent and just King for five-and-forty years. +</p> + +<p> +As everybody knew he had been nothing of the sort, nobody cared much for this +document. It so chanced that the proud Earl of Gloucester dying, was succeeded +by his son; and that his son, instead of being the enemy of the Earl of +Leicester, was (for the time) his friend. It fell out, therefore, that these +two Earls joined their forces, took several of the Royal Castles in the +country, and advanced as hard as they could on London. The London people, +always opposed to the King, declared for them with great joy. The King himself +remained shut up, not at all gloriously, in the Tower. Prince Edward made the +best of his way to Windsor Castle. His mother, the Queen, attempted to follow +him by water; but, the people seeing her barge rowing up the river, and hating +her with all their hearts, ran to London Bridge, got together a quantity of +stones and mud, and pelted the barge as it came through, crying furiously, +‘Drown the Witch! Drown her!’ They were so near doing it, that the +Mayor took the old lady under his protection, and shut her up in St. +Paul’s until the danger was past. +</p> + +<p> +It would require a great deal of writing on my part, and a great deal of +reading on yours, to follow the King through his disputes with the Barons, and +to follow the Barons through their disputes with one another—so I will +make short work of it for both of us, and only relate the chief events that +arose out of these quarrels. The good King of France was asked to decide +between them. He gave it as his opinion that the King must maintain the Great +Charter, and that the Barons must give up the Committee of Government, and all +the rest that had been done by the Parliament at Oxford: which the Royalists, +or King’s party, scornfully called the Mad Parliament. The Barons +declared that these were not fair terms, and they would not accept them. Then +they caused the great bell of St. Paul’s to be tolled, for the purpose of +rousing up the London people, who armed themselves at the dismal sound and +formed quite an army in the streets. I am sorry to say, however, that instead +of falling upon the King’s party with whom their quarrel was, they fell +upon the miserable Jews, and killed at least five hundred of them. They +pretended that some of these Jews were on the King’s side, and that they +kept hidden in their houses, for the destruction of the people, a certain +terrible composition called Greek Fire, which could not be put out with water, +but only burnt the fiercer for it. What they really did keep in their houses +was money; and this their cruel enemies wanted, and this their cruel enemies +took, like robbers and murderers. +</p> + +<p> +The Earl of Leicester put himself at the head of these Londoners and other +forces, and followed the King to Lewes in Sussex, where he lay encamped with +his army. Before giving the King’s forces battle here, the Earl addressed +his soldiers, and said that King Henry the Third had broken so many oaths, that +he had become the enemy of God, and therefore they would wear white crosses on +their breasts, as if they were arrayed, not against a fellow-Christian, but +against a Turk. White-crossed accordingly, they rushed into the fight. They +would have lost the day—the King having on his side all the foreigners in +England: and, from Scotland, <span class="smcap">John Comyn</span>, <span +class="smcap">John Baliol</span>, and <span class="smcap">Robert Bruce</span>, +with all their men—but for the impatience of <span class="smcap">Prince +Edward</span>, who, in his hot desire to have vengeance on the people of +London, threw the whole of his father’s army into confusion. He was taken +Prisoner; so was the King; so was the King’s brother the King of the +Romans; and five thousand Englishmen were left dead upon the bloody grass. +</p> + +<p> +For this success, the Pope excommunicated the Earl of Leicester: which neither +the Earl nor the people cared at all about. The people loved him and supported +him, and he became the real King; having all the power of the government in his +own hands, though he was outwardly respectful to King Henry the Third, whom he +took with him wherever he went, like a poor old limp court-card. He summoned a +Parliament (in the year one thousand two hundred and sixty-five) which was the +first Parliament in England that the people had any real share in electing; and +he grew more and more in favour with the people every day, and they stood by +him in whatever he did. +</p> + +<p> +Many of the other Barons, and particularly the Earl of Gloucester, who had +become by this time as proud as his father, grew jealous of this powerful and +popular Earl, who was proud too, and began to conspire against him. Since the +battle of Lewes, Prince Edward had been kept as a hostage, and, though he was +otherwise treated like a Prince, had never been allowed to go out without +attendants appointed by the Earl of Leicester, who watched him. The conspiring +Lords found means to propose to him, in secret, that they should assist him to +escape, and should make him their leader; to which he very heartily consented. +</p> + +<p> +So, on a day that was agreed upon, he said to his attendants after dinner +(being then at Hereford), ‘I should like to ride on horseback, this fine +afternoon, a little way into the country.’ As they, too, thought it would +be very pleasant to have a canter in the sunshine, they all rode out of the +town together in a gay little troop. When they came to a fine level piece of +turf, the Prince fell to comparing their horses one with another, and offering +bets that one was faster than another; and the attendants, suspecting no harm, +rode galloping matches until their horses were quite tired. The Prince rode no +matches himself, but looked on from his saddle, and staked his money. Thus they +passed the whole merry afternoon. Now, the sun was setting, and they were all +going slowly up a hill, the Prince’s horse very fresh and all the other +horses very weary, when a strange rider mounted on a grey steed appeared at the +top of the hill, and waved his hat. ‘What does the fellow mean?’ +said the attendants one to another. The Prince answered on the instant by +setting spurs to his horse, dashing away at his utmost speed, joining the man, +riding into the midst of a little crowd of horsemen who were then seen waiting +under some trees, and who closed around him; and so he departed in a cloud of +dust, leaving the road empty of all but the baffled attendants, who sat looking +at one another, while their horses drooped their ears and panted. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince joined the Earl of Gloucester at Ludlow. The Earl of Leicester, with +a part of the army and the stupid old King, was at Hereford. One of the Earl of +Leicester’s sons, Simon de Montfort, with another part of the army, was +in Sussex. To prevent these two parts from uniting was the Prince’s first +object. He attacked Simon de Montfort by night, defeated him, seized his +banners and treasure, and forced him into Kenilworth Castle in Warwickshire, +which belonged to his family. +</p> + +<p> +His father, the Earl of Leicester, in the meanwhile, not knowing what had +happened, marched out of Hereford, with his part of the army and the King, to +meet him. He came, on a bright morning in August, to Evesham, which is watered +by the pleasant river Avon. Looking rather anxiously across the prospect +towards Kenilworth, he saw his own banners advancing; and his face brightened +with joy. But, it clouded darkly when he presently perceived that the banners +were captured, and in the enemy’s hands; and he said, ‘It is over. +The Lord have mercy on our souls, for our bodies are Prince +Edward’s!’ +</p> + +<p> +He fought like a true Knight, nevertheless. When his horse was killed under +him, he fought on foot. It was a fierce battle, and the dead lay in heaps +everywhere. The old King, stuck up in a suit of armour on a big war-horse, +which didn’t mind him at all, and which carried him into all sorts of +places where he didn’t want to go, got into everybody’s way, and +very nearly got knocked on the head by one of his son’s men. But he +managed to pipe out, ‘I am Harry of Winchester!’ and the Prince, +who heard him, seized his bridle, and took him out of peril. The Earl of +Leicester still fought bravely, until his best son Henry was killed, and the +bodies of his best friends choked his path; and then he fell, still fighting, +sword in hand. They mangled his body, and sent it as a present to a noble +lady—but a very unpleasant lady, I should think—who was the wife of +his worst enemy. They could not mangle his memory in the minds of the faithful +people, though. Many years afterwards, they loved him more than ever, and +regarded him as a Saint, and always spoke of him as ‘Sir Simon the +Righteous.’ +</p> + +<p> +And even though he was dead, the cause for which he had fought still lived, and +was strong, and forced itself upon the King in the very hour of victory. Henry +found himself obliged to respect the Great Charter, however much he hated it, +and to make laws similar to the laws of the Great Earl of Leicester, and to be +moderate and forgiving towards the people at last—even towards the people +of London, who had so long opposed him. There were more risings before all this +was done, but they were set at rest by these means, and Prince Edward did his +best in all things to restore peace. One Sir Adam de Gourdon was the last +dissatisfied knight in arms; but, the Prince vanquished him in single combat, +in a wood, and nobly gave him his life, and became his friend, instead of +slaying him. Sir Adam was not ungrateful. He ever afterwards remained devoted +to his generous conqueror. +</p> + +<p> +When the troubles of the Kingdom were thus calmed, Prince Edward and his cousin +Henry took the Cross, and went away to the Holy Land, with many English Lords +and Knights. Four years afterwards the King of the Romans died, and, next year +(one thousand two hundred and seventy-two), his brother the weak King of +England died. He was sixty-eight years old then, and had reigned fifty-six +years. He was as much of a King in death, as he had ever been in life. He was +the mere pale shadow of a King at all times. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap16"></a>CHAPTER XVI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FIRST, CALLED LONGSHANKS</h2> + +<p> +It was now the year of our Lord one thousand two hundred and seventy-two; and +Prince Edward, the heir to the throne, being away in the Holy Land, knew +nothing of his father’s death. The Barons, however, proclaimed him King, +immediately after the Royal funeral; and the people very willingly consented, +since most men knew too well by this time what the horrors of a contest for the +crown were. So King Edward the First, called, in a not very complimentary +manner, <span class="smcap">Longshanks</span>, because of the slenderness of +his legs, was peacefully accepted by the English Nation. +</p> + +<p> +His legs had need to be strong, however long and thin they were; for they had +to support him through many difficulties on the fiery sands of Asia, where his +small force of soldiers fainted, died, deserted, and seemed to melt away. But +his prowess made light of it, and he said, ‘I will go on, if I go on with +no other follower than my groom!’ +</p> + +<p> +A Prince of this spirit gave the Turks a deal of trouble. He stormed Nazareth, +at which place, of all places on earth, I am sorry to relate, he made a +frightful slaughter of innocent people; and then he went to Acre, where he got +a truce of ten years from the Sultan. He had very nearly lost his life in Acre, +through the treachery of a Saracen Noble, called the Emir of Jaffa, who, making +the pretence that he had some idea of turning Christian and wanted to know all +about that religion, sent a trusty messenger to Edward very often—with a +dagger in his sleeve. At last, one Friday in Whitsun week, when it was very +hot, and all the sandy prospect lay beneath the blazing sun, burnt up like a +great overdone biscuit, and Edward was lying on a couch, dressed for coolness +in only a loose robe, the messenger, with his chocolate-coloured face and his +bright dark eyes and white teeth, came creeping in with a letter, and kneeled +down like a tame tiger. But, the moment Edward stretched out his hand to take +the letter, the tiger made a spring at his heart. He was quick, but Edward was +quick too. He seized the traitor by his chocolate throat, threw him to the +ground, and slew him with the very dagger he had drawn. The weapon had struck +Edward in the arm, and although the wound itself was slight, it threatened to +be mortal, for the blade of the dagger had been smeared with poison. Thanks, +however, to a better surgeon than was often to be found in those times, and to +some wholesome herbs, and above all, to his faithful wife, <span +class="smcap">Eleanor</span>, who devotedly nursed him, and is said by some to +have sucked the poison from the wound with her own red lips (which I am very +willing to believe), Edward soon recovered and was sound again. +</p> + +<p> +As the King his father had sent entreaties to him to return home, he now began +the journey. He had got as far as Italy, when he met messengers who brought him +intelligence of the King’s death. Hearing that all was quiet at home, he +made no haste to return to his own dominions, but paid a visit to the Pope, and +went in state through various Italian Towns, where he was welcomed with +acclamations as a mighty champion of the Cross from the Holy Land, and where he +received presents of purple mantles and prancing horses, and went along in +great triumph. The shouting people little knew that he was the last English +monarch who would ever embark in a crusade, or that within twenty years every +conquest which the Christians had made in the Holy Land at the cost of so much +blood, would be won back by the Turks. But all this came to pass. +</p> + +<p> +There was, and there is, an old town standing in a plain in France, called +Châlons. When the King was coming towards this place on his way to +England, a wily French Lord, called the Count of Châlons, sent him a +polite challenge to come with his knights and hold a fair tournament with the +Count and <i>his</i> knights, and make a day of it with sword and lance. It was +represented to the King that the Count of Châlons was not to be trusted, +and that, instead of a holiday fight for mere show and in good humour, he +secretly meant a real battle, in which the English should be defeated by +superior force. +</p> + +<p> +The King, however, nothing afraid, went to the appointed place on the appointed +day with a thousand followers. When the Count came with two thousand and +attacked the English in earnest, the English rushed at them with such valour +that the Count’s men and the Count’s horses soon began to be +tumbled down all over the field. The Count himself seized the King round the +neck, but the King tumbled <i>him</i> out of his saddle in return for the +compliment, and, jumping from his own horse, and standing over him, beat away +at his iron armour like a blacksmith hammering on his anvil. Even when the +Count owned himself defeated and offered his sword, the King would not do him +the honour to take it, but made him yield it up to a common soldier. There had +been such fury shown in this fight, that it was afterwards called the little +Battle of Châlons. +</p> + +<p> +The English were very well disposed to be proud of their King after these +adventures; so, when he landed at Dover in the year one thousand two hundred +and seventy-four (being then thirty-six years old), and went on to Westminster +where he and his good Queen were crowned with great magnificence, splendid +rejoicings took place. For the coronation-feast there were provided, among +other eatables, four hundred oxen, four hundred sheep, four hundred and fifty +pigs, eighteen wild boars, three hundred flitches of bacon, and twenty thousand +fowls. The fountains and conduits in the street flowed with red and white wine +instead of water; the rich citizens hung silks and cloths of the brightest +colours out of their windows to increase the beauty of the show, and threw out +gold and silver by whole handfuls to make scrambles for the crowd. In short, +there was such eating and drinking, such music and capering, such a ringing of +bells and tossing of caps, such a shouting, and singing, and revelling, as the +narrow overhanging streets of old London City had not witnessed for many a long +day. All the people were merry except the poor Jews, who, trembling within +their houses, and scarcely daring to peep out, began to foresee that they would +have to find the money for this joviality sooner or later. +</p> + +<p> +To dismiss this sad subject of the Jews for the present, I am sorry to add that +in this reign they were most unmercifully pillaged. They were hanged in great +numbers, on accusations of having clipped the King’s coin—which all +kinds of people had done. They were heavily taxed; they were disgracefully +badged; they were, on one day, thirteen years after the coronation, taken up +with their wives and children and thrown into beastly prisons, until they +purchased their release by paying to the King twelve thousand pounds. Finally, +every kind of property belonging to them was seized by the King, except so +little as would defray the charge of their taking themselves away into foreign +countries. Many years elapsed before the hope of gain induced any of their race +to return to England, where they had been treated so heartlessly and had +suffered so much. +</p> + +<p> +If King Edward the First had been as bad a king to Christians as he was to +Jews, he would have been bad indeed. But he was, in general, a wise and great +monarch, under whom the country much improved. He had no love for the Great +Charter—few Kings had, through many, many years—but he had high +qualities. The first bold object which he conceived when he came home, was, to +unite under one Sovereign England, Scotland, and Wales; the two last of which +countries had each a little king of its own, about whom the people were always +quarrelling and fighting, and making a prodigious disturbance—a great +deal more than he was worth. In the course of King Edward’s reign he was +engaged, besides, in a war with France. To make these quarrels clearer, we will +separate their histories and take them thus. Wales, first. France, second. +Scotland, third. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Llewellyn</span> was the Prince of Wales. He had been on +the side of the Barons in the reign of the stupid old King, but had afterwards +sworn allegiance to him. When King Edward came to the throne, Llewellyn was +required to swear allegiance to him also; which he refused to do. The King, +being crowned and in his own dominions, three times more required Llewellyn to +come and do homage; and three times more Llewellyn said he would rather not. He +was going to be married to <span class="smcap">Eleanor de Montfort</span>, a +young lady of the family mentioned in the last reign; and it chanced that this +young lady, coming from France with her youngest brother, <span +class="smcap">Emeric</span>, was taken by an English ship, and was ordered by +the English King to be detained. Upon this, the quarrel came to a head. The +King went, with his fleet, to the coast of Wales, where, so encompassing +Llewellyn, that he could only take refuge in the bleak mountain region of +Snowdon in which no provisions could reach him, he was soon starved into an +apology, and into a treaty of peace, and into paying the expenses of the war. +The King, however, forgave him some of the hardest conditions of the treaty, +and consented to his marriage. And he now thought he had reduced Wales to +obedience. +</p> + +<p> +But the Welsh, although they were naturally a gentle, quiet, pleasant people, +who liked to receive strangers in their cottages among the mountains, and to +set before them with free hospitality whatever they had to eat and drink, and +to play to them on their harps, and sing their native ballads to them, were a +people of great spirit when their blood was up. Englishmen, after this affair, +began to be insolent in Wales, and to assume the air of masters; and the Welsh +pride could not bear it. Moreover, they believed in that unlucky old Merlin, +some of whose unlucky old prophecies somebody always seemed doomed to remember +when there was a chance of its doing harm; and just at this time some blind old +gentleman with a harp and a long white beard, who was an excellent person, but +had become of an unknown age and tedious, burst out with a declaration that +Merlin had predicted that when English money had become round, a Prince of +Wales would be crowned in London. Now, King Edward had recently forbidden the +English penny to be cut into halves and quarters for halfpence and farthings, +and had actually introduced a round coin; therefore, the Welsh people said this +was the time Merlin meant, and rose accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward had bought over <span class="smcap">Prince David</span>, +Llewellyn’s brother, by heaping favours upon him; but he was the first to +revolt, being perhaps troubled in his conscience. One stormy night, he +surprised the Castle of Hawarden, in possession of which an English nobleman +had been left; killed the whole garrison, and carried off the nobleman a +prisoner to Snowdon. Upon this, the Welsh people rose like one man. King +Edward, with his army, marching from Worcester to the Menai Strait, crossed +it—near to where the wonderful tubular iron bridge now, in days so +different, makes a passage for railway trains—by a bridge of boats that +enabled forty men to march abreast. He subdued the Island of Anglesea, and sent +his men forward to observe the enemy. The sudden appearance of the Welsh +created a panic among them, and they fell back to the bridge. The tide had in +the meantime risen and separated the boats; the Welsh pursuing them, they were +driven into the sea, and there they sunk, in their heavy iron armour, by +thousands. After this victory Llewellyn, helped by the severe winter-weather of +Wales, gained another battle; but the King ordering a portion of his English +army to advance through South Wales, and catch him between two foes, and +Llewellyn bravely turning to meet this new enemy, he was surprised and +killed—very meanly, for he was unarmed and defenceless. His head was +struck off and sent to London, where it was fixed upon the Tower, encircled +with a wreath, some say of ivy, some say of willow, some say of silver, to make +it look like a ghastly coin in ridicule of the prediction. +</p> + +<p> +David, however, still held out for six months, though eagerly sought after by +the King, and hunted by his own countrymen. One of them finally betrayed him +with his wife and children. He was sentenced to be hanged, drawn, and +quartered; and from that time this became the established punishment of +Traitors in England—a punishment wholly without excuse, as being +revolting, vile, and cruel, after its object is dead; and which has no sense in +it, as its only real degradation (and that nothing can blot out) is to the +country that permits on any consideration such abominable barbarity. +</p> + +<p> +Wales was now subdued. The Queen giving birth to a young prince in the Castle +of Carnarvon, the King showed him to the Welsh people as their countryman, and +called him Prince of Wales; a title that has ever since been borne by the +heir-apparent to the English throne—which that little Prince soon became, +by the death of his elder brother. The King did better things for the Welsh +than that, by improving their laws and encouraging their trade. Disturbances +still took place, chiefly occasioned by the avarice and pride of the English +Lords, on whom Welsh lands and castles had been bestowed; but they were +subdued, and the country never rose again. There is a legend that to prevent +the people from being incited to rebellion by the songs of their bards and +harpers, Edward had them all put to death. Some of them may have fallen among +other men who held out against the King; but this general slaughter is, I +think, a fancy of the harpers themselves, who, I dare say, made a song about it +many years afterwards, and sang it by the Welsh firesides until it came to be +believed. +</p> + +<p> +The foreign war of the reign of Edward the First arose in this way. The crews +of two vessels, one a Norman ship, and the other an English ship, happened to +go to the same place in their boats to fill their casks with fresh water. Being +rough angry fellows, they began to quarrel, and then to fight—the English +with their fists; the Normans with their knives—and, in the fight, a +Norman was killed. The Norman crew, instead of revenging themselves upon those +English sailors with whom they had quarrelled (who were too strong for them, I +suspect), took to their ship again in a great rage, attacked the first English +ship they met, laid hold of an unoffending merchant who happened to be on +board, and brutally hanged him in the rigging of their own vessel with a dog at +his feet. This so enraged the English sailors that there was no restraining +them; and whenever, and wherever, English sailors met Norman sailors, they fell +upon each other tooth and nail. The Irish and Dutch sailors took part with the +English; the French and Genoese sailors helped the Normans; and thus the +greater part of the mariners sailing over the sea became, in their way, as +violent and raging as the sea itself when it is disturbed. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward’s fame had been so high abroad that he had been chosen to +decide a difference between France and another foreign power, and had lived +upon the Continent three years. At first, neither he nor the French King <span +class="smcap">Philip</span> (the good Louis had been dead some time) interfered +in these quarrels; but when a fleet of eighty English ships engaged and utterly +defeated a Norman fleet of two hundred, in a pitched battle fought round a ship +at anchor, in which no quarter was given, the matter became too serious to be +passed over. King Edward, as Duke of Guienne, was summoned to present himself +before the King of France, at Paris, and answer for the damage done by his +sailor subjects. At first, he sent the Bishop of London as his representative, +and then his brother <span class="smcap">Edmund</span>, who was married to the +French Queen’s mother. I am afraid Edmund was an easy man, and allowed +himself to be talked over by his charming relations, the French court ladies; +at all events, he was induced to give up his brother’s dukedom for forty +days—as a mere form, the French King said, to satisfy his +honour—and he was so very much astonished, when the time was out, to find +that the French King had no idea of giving it up again, that I should not +wonder if it hastened his death: which soon took place. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward was a King to win his foreign dukedom back again, if it could be +won by energy and valour. He raised a large army, renounced his allegiance as +Duke of Guienne, and crossed the sea to carry war into France. Before any +important battle was fought, however, a truce was agreed upon for two years; +and in the course of that time, the Pope effected a reconciliation. King +Edward, who was now a widower, having lost his affectionate and good wife, +Eleanor, married the French King’s sister, <span +class="smcap">Margaret</span>; and the Prince of Wales was contracted to the +French King’s daughter <span class="smcap">Isabella</span>. +</p> + +<p> +Out of bad things, good things sometimes arise. Out of this hanging of the +innocent merchant, and the bloodshed and strife it caused, there came to be +established one of the greatest powers that the English people now possess. The +preparations for the war being very expensive, and King Edward greatly wanting +money, and being very arbitrary in his ways of raising it, some of the Barons +began firmly to oppose him. Two of them, in particular, <span +class="smcap">Humphrey Bohun</span>, Earl of Hereford, and <span +class="smcap">Roger Bigod</span>, Earl of Norfolk, were so stout against him, +that they maintained he had no right to command them to head his forces in +Guienne, and flatly refused to go there. ‘By Heaven, Sir Earl,’ +said the King to the Earl of Hereford, in a great passion, ‘you shall +either go or be hanged!’ ‘By Heaven, Sir King,’ replied the +Earl, ‘I will neither go nor yet will I be hanged!’ and both he and +the other Earl sturdily left the court, attended by many Lords. The King tried +every means of raising money. He taxed the clergy, in spite of all the Pope +said to the contrary; and when they refused to pay, reduced them to submission, +by saying Very well, then they had no claim upon the government for protection, +and any man might plunder them who would—which a good many men were very +ready to do, and very readily did, and which the clergy found too losing a game +to be played at long. He seized all the wool and leather in the hands of the +merchants, promising to pay for it some fine day; and he set a tax upon the +exportation of wool, which was so unpopular among the traders that it was +called ‘The evil toll.’ But all would not do. The Barons, led by +those two great Earls, declared any taxes imposed without the consent of +Parliament, unlawful; and the Parliament refused to impose taxes, until the +King should confirm afresh the two Great Charters, and should solemnly declare +in writing, that there was no power in the country to raise money from the +people, evermore, but the power of Parliament representing all ranks of the +people. The King was very unwilling to diminish his own power by allowing this +great privilege in the Parliament; but there was no help for it, and he at last +complied. We shall come to another King by-and-by, who might have saved his +head from rolling off, if he had profited by this example. +</p> + +<p> +The people gained other benefits in Parliament from the good sense and wisdom +of this King. Many of the laws were much improved; provision was made for the +greater safety of travellers, and the apprehension of thieves and murderers; +the priests were prevented from holding too much land, and so becoming too +powerful; and Justices of the Peace were first appointed (though not at first +under that name) in various parts of the country. +</p> + +<hr /> + +<p> +And now we come to Scotland, which was the great and lasting trouble of the +reign of King Edward the First. +</p> + +<p> +About thirteen years after King Edward’s coronation, Alexander the Third, +the King of Scotland, died of a fall from his horse. He had been married to +Margaret, King Edward’s sister. All their children being dead, the +Scottish crown became the right of a young Princess only eight years old, the +daughter of <span class="smcap">Eric</span>, King of Norway, who had married a +daughter of the deceased sovereign. King Edward proposed, that the Maiden of +Norway, as this Princess was called, should be engaged to be married to his +eldest son; but, unfortunately, as she was coming over to England she fell +sick, and landing on one of the Orkney Islands, died there. A great commotion +immediately began in Scotland, where as many as thirteen noisy claimants to the +vacant throne started up and made a general confusion. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward being much renowned for his sagacity and justice, it seems to have +been agreed to refer the dispute to him. He accepted the trust, and went, with +an army, to the Border-land where England and Scotland joined. There, he called +upon the Scottish gentlemen to meet him at the Castle of Norham, on the English +side of the river Tweed; and to that Castle they came. But, before he would +take any step in the business, he required those Scottish gentlemen, one and +all, to do homage to him as their superior Lord; and when they hesitated, he +said, ‘By holy Edward, whose crown I wear, I will have my rights, or I +will die in maintaining them!’ The Scottish gentlemen, who had not +expected this, were disconcerted, and asked for three weeks to think about it. +</p> + +<p> +At the end of the three weeks, another meeting took place, on a green plain on +the Scottish side of the river. Of all the competitors for the Scottish throne, +there were only two who had any real claim, in right of their near kindred to +the Royal Family. These were <span class="smcap">John Baliol</span> and <span +class="smcap">Robert Bruce</span>: and the right was, I have no doubt, on the +side of John Baliol. At this particular meeting John Baliol was not present, +but Robert Bruce was; and on Robert Bruce being formally asked whether he +acknowledged the King of England for his superior lord, he answered, plainly +and distinctly, Yes, he did. Next day, John Baliol appeared, and said the same. +This point settled, some arrangements were made for inquiring into their +titles. +</p> + +<p> +The inquiry occupied a pretty long time—more than a year. While it was +going on, King Edward took the opportunity of making a journey through +Scotland, and calling upon the Scottish people of all degrees to acknowledge +themselves his vassals, or be imprisoned until they did. In the meanwhile, +Commissioners were appointed to conduct the inquiry, a Parliament was held at +Berwick about it, the two claimants were heard at full length, and there was a +vast amount of talking. At last, in the great hall of the Castle of Berwick, +the King gave judgment in favour of John Baliol: who, consenting to receive his +crown by the King of England’s favour and permission, was crowned at +Scone, in an old stone chair which had been used for ages in the abbey there, +at the coronations of Scottish Kings. Then, King Edward caused the great seal +of Scotland, used since the late King’s death, to be broken in four +pieces, and placed in the English Treasury; and considered that he now had +Scotland (according to the common saying) under his thumb. +</p> + +<p> +Scotland had a strong will of its own yet, however. King Edward, determined +that the Scottish King should not forget he was his vassal, summoned him +repeatedly to come and defend himself and his judges before the English +Parliament when appeals from the decisions of Scottish courts of justice were +being heard. At length, John Baliol, who had no great heart of his own, had so +much heart put into him by the brave spirit of the Scottish people, who took +this as a national insult, that he refused to come any more. Thereupon, the +King further required him to help him in his war abroad (which was then in +progress), and to give up, as security for his good behaviour in future, the +three strong Scottish Castles of Jedburgh, Roxburgh, and Berwick. Nothing of +this being done; on the contrary, the Scottish people concealing their King +among their mountains in the Highlands and showing a determination to resist; +Edward marched to Berwick with an army of thirty thousand foot, and four +thousand horse; took the Castle, and slew its whole garrison, and the +inhabitants of the town as well—men, women, and children. <span +class="smcap">Lord Warrenne</span>, Earl of Surrey, then went on to the Castle +of Dunbar, before which a battle was fought, and the whole Scottish army +defeated with great slaughter. The victory being complete, the Earl of Surrey +was left as guardian of Scotland; the principal offices in that kingdom were +given to Englishmen; the more powerful Scottish Nobles were obliged to come and +live in England; the Scottish crown and sceptre were brought away; and even the +old stone chair was carried off and placed in Westminster Abbey, where you may +see it now. Baliol had the Tower of London lent him for a residence, with +permission to range about within a circle of twenty miles. Three years +afterwards he was allowed to go to Normandy, where he had estates, and where he +passed the remaining six years of his life: far more happily, I dare say, than +he had lived for a long while in angry Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +Now, there was, in the West of Scotland, a gentleman of small fortune, named +<span class="smcap">William Wallace</span>, the second son of a Scottish +knight. He was a man of great size and great strength; he was very brave and +daring; when he spoke to a body of his countrymen, he could rouse them in a +wonderful manner by the power of his burning words; he loved Scotland dearly, +and he hated England with his utmost might. The domineering conduct of the +English who now held the places of trust in Scotland made them as intolerable +to the proud Scottish people as they had been, under similar circumstances, to +the Welsh; and no man in all Scotland regarded them with so much smothered rage +as William Wallace. One day, an Englishman in office, little knowing what he +was, affronted <i>him</i>. Wallace instantly struck him dead, and taking refuge +among the rocks and hills, and there joining with his countryman, <span +class="smcap">Sir William Douglas</span>, who was also in arms against King +Edward, became the most resolute and undaunted champion of a people struggling +for their independence that ever lived upon the earth. +</p> + +<p> +The English Guardian of the Kingdom fled before him, and, thus encouraged, the +Scottish people revolted everywhere, and fell upon the English without mercy. +The Earl of Surrey, by the King’s commands, raised all the power of the +Border-counties, and two English armies poured into Scotland. Only one Chief, +in the face of those armies, stood by Wallace, who, with a force of forty +thousand men, awaited the invaders at a place on the river Forth, within two +miles of Stirling. Across the river there was only one poor wooden bridge, +called the bridge of Kildean—so narrow, that but two men could cross it +abreast. With his eyes upon this bridge, Wallace posted the greater part of his +men among some rising grounds, and waited calmly. When the English army came up +on the opposite bank of the river, messengers were sent forward to offer terms. +Wallace sent them back with a defiance, in the name of the freedom of Scotland. +Some of the officers of the Earl of Surrey in command of the English, with +<i>their</i> eyes also on the bridge, advised him to be discreet and not hasty. +He, however, urged to immediate battle by some other officers, and particularly +by <span class="smcap">Cressingham</span>, King Edward’s treasurer, and a +rash man, gave the word of command to advance. One thousand English crossed the +bridge, two abreast; the Scottish troops were as motionless as stone images. +Two thousand English crossed; three thousand, four thousand, five. Not a +feather, all this time, had been seen to stir among the Scottish bonnets. Now, +they all fluttered. ‘Forward, one party, to the foot of the +Bridge!’ cried Wallace, ‘and let no more English cross! The rest, +down with me on the five thousand who have come over, and cut them all to +pieces!’ It was done, in the sight of the whole remainder of the English +army, who could give no help. Cressingham himself was killed, and the Scotch +made whips for their horses of his skin. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward was abroad at this time, and during the successes on the Scottish +side which followed, and which enabled bold Wallace to win the whole country +back again, and even to ravage the English borders. But, after a few winter +months, the King returned, and took the field with more than his usual energy. +One night, when a kick from his horse as they both lay on the ground together +broke two of his ribs, and a cry arose that he was killed, he leaped into his +saddle, regardless of the pain he suffered, and rode through the camp. Day then +appearing, he gave the word (still, of course, in that bruised and aching +state) Forward! and led his army on to near Falkirk, where the Scottish forces +were seen drawn up on some stony ground, behind a morass. Here, he defeated +Wallace, and killed fifteen thousand of his men. With the shattered remainder, +Wallace drew back to Stirling; but, being pursued, set fire to the town that it +might give no help to the English, and escaped. The inhabitants of Perth +afterwards set fire to their houses for the same reason, and the King, unable +to find provisions, was forced to withdraw his army. +</p> + +<p> +Another <span class="smcap">Robert Bruce</span>, the grandson of him who had +disputed the Scottish crown with Baliol, was now in arms against the King (that +elder Bruce being dead), and also <span class="smcap">John Comyn</span>, +Baliol’s nephew. These two young men might agree in opposing Edward, but +could agree in nothing else, as they were rivals for the throne of Scotland. +Probably it was because they knew this, and knew what troubles must arise even +if they could hope to get the better of the great English King, that the +principal Scottish people applied to the Pope for his interference. The Pope, +on the principle of losing nothing for want of trying to get it, very coolly +claimed that Scotland belonged to him; but this was a little too much, and the +Parliament in a friendly manner told him so. +</p> + +<p> +In the spring time of the year one thousand three hundred and three, the King +sent <span class="smcap">Sir John Segrave</span>, whom he made Governor of +Scotland, with twenty thousand men, to reduce the rebels. Sir John was not as +careful as he should have been, but encamped at Rosslyn, near Edinburgh, with +his army divided into three parts. The Scottish forces saw their advantage; +fell on each part separately; defeated each; and killed all the prisoners. +Then, came the King himself once more, as soon as a great army could be raised; +he passed through the whole north of Scotland, laying waste whatsoever came in +his way; and he took up his winter quarters at Dunfermline. The Scottish cause +now looked so hopeless, that Comyn and the other nobles made submission and +received their pardons. Wallace alone stood out. He was invited to surrender, +though on no distinct pledge that his life should be spared; but he still +defied the ireful King, and lived among the steep crags of the Highland glens, +where the eagles made their nests, and where the mountain torrents roared, and +the white snow was deep, and the bitter winds blew round his unsheltered head, +as he lay through many a pitch-dark night wrapped up in his plaid. Nothing +could break his spirit; nothing could lower his courage; nothing could induce +him to forget or to forgive his country’s wrongs. Even when the Castle of +Stirling, which had long held out, was besieged by the King with every kind of +military engine then in use; even when the lead upon cathedral roofs was taken +down to help to make them; even when the King, though an old man, commanded in +the siege as if he were a youth, being so resolved to conquer; even when the +brave garrison (then found with amazement to be not two hundred people, +including several ladies) were starved and beaten out and were made to submit +on their knees, and with every form of disgrace that could aggravate their +sufferings; even then, when there was not a ray of hope in Scotland, William +Wallace was as proud and firm as if he had beheld the powerful and relentless +Edward lying dead at his feet. +</p> + +<p> +Who betrayed William Wallace in the end, is not quite certain. That he was +betrayed—probably by an attendant—is too true. He was taken to the +Castle of Dumbarton, under <span class="smcap">Sir John Menteith</span>, and +thence to London, where the great fame of his bravery and resolution attracted +immense concourses of people to behold him. He was tried in Westminster Hall, +with a crown of laurel on his head—it is supposed because he was reported +to have said that he ought to wear, or that he would wear, a crown there and +was found guilty as a robber, a murderer, and a traitor. What they called a +robber (he said to those who tried him) he was, because he had taken spoil from +the King’s men. What they called a murderer, he was, because he had slain +an insolent Englishman. What they called a traitor, he was not, for he had +never sworn allegiance to the King, and had ever scorned to do it. He was +dragged at the tails of horses to West Smithfield, and there hanged on a high +gallows, torn open before he was dead, beheaded, and quartered. His head was +set upon a pole on London Bridge, his right arm was sent to Newcastle, his left +arm to Berwick, his legs to Perth and Aberdeen. But, if King Edward had had his +body cut into inches, and had sent every separate inch into a separate town, he +could not have dispersed it half so far and wide as his fame. Wallace will be +remembered in songs and stories, while there are songs and stories in the +English tongue, and Scotland will hold him dear while her lakes and mountains +last. +</p> + +<p> +Released from this dreaded enemy, the King made a fairer plan of Government for +Scotland, divided the offices of honour among Scottish gentlemen and English +gentlemen, forgave past offences, and thought, in his old age, that his work +was done. +</p> + +<p> +But he deceived himself. Comyn and Bruce conspired, and made an appointment to +meet at Dumfries, in the church of the Minorites. There is a story that Comyn +was false to Bruce, and had informed against him to the King; that Bruce was +warned of his danger and the necessity of flight, by receiving, one night as he +sat at supper, from his friend the Earl of Gloucester, twelve pennies and a +pair of spurs; that as he was riding angrily to keep his appointment (through a +snow-storm, with his horse’s shoes reversed that he might not be +tracked), he met an evil-looking serving man, a messenger of Comyn, whom he +killed, and concealed in whose dress he found letters that proved Comyn’s +treachery. However this may be, they were likely enough to quarrel in any case, +being hot-headed rivals; and, whatever they quarrelled about, they certainly +did quarrel in the church where they met, and Bruce drew his dagger and stabbed +Comyn, who fell upon the pavement. When Bruce came out, pale and disturbed, the +friends who were waiting for him asked what was the matter? ‘I think I +have killed Comyn,’ said he. ‘You only think so?’ returned +one of them; ‘I will make sure!’ and going into the church, and +finding him alive, stabbed him again and again. Knowing that the King would +never forgive this new deed of violence, the party then declared Bruce King of +Scotland: got him crowned at Scone—without the chair; and set up the +rebellious standard once again. +</p> + +<p> +When the King heard of it he kindled with fiercer anger than he had ever shown +yet. He caused the Prince of Wales and two hundred and seventy of the young +nobility to be knighted—the trees in the Temple Gardens were cut down to +make room for their tents, and they watched their armour all night, according +to the old usage: some in the Temple Church: some in Westminster +Abbey—and at the public Feast which then took place, he swore, by Heaven, +and by two swans covered with gold network which his minstrels placed upon the +table, that he would avenge the death of Comyn, and would punish the false +Bruce. And before all the company, he charged the Prince his son, in case that +he should die before accomplishing his vow, not to bury him until it was +fulfilled. Next morning the Prince and the rest of the young Knights rode away +to the Border-country to join the English army; and the King, now weak and +sick, followed in a horse-litter. +</p> + +<p> +Bruce, after losing a battle and undergoing many dangers and much misery, fled +to Ireland, where he lay concealed through the winter. That winter, Edward +passed in hunting down and executing Bruce’s relations and adherents, +sparing neither youth nor age, and showing no touch of pity or sign of mercy. +In the following spring, Bruce reappeared and gained some victories. In these +frays, both sides were grievously cruel. For instance—Bruce’s two +brothers, being taken captives desperately wounded, were ordered by the King to +instant execution. Bruce’s friend Sir John Douglas, taking his own Castle +of Douglas out of the hands of an English Lord, roasted the dead bodies of the +slaughtered garrison in a great fire made of every movable within it; which +dreadful cookery his men called the Douglas Larder. Bruce, still successful, +however, drove the Earl of Pembroke and the Earl of Gloucester into the Castle +of Ayr and laid siege to it. +</p> + +<p> +The King, who had been laid up all the winter, but had directed the army from +his sick-bed, now advanced to Carlisle, and there, causing the litter in which +he had travelled to be placed in the Cathedral as an offering to Heaven, +mounted his horse once more, and for the last time. He was now sixty-nine years +old, and had reigned thirty-five years. He was so ill, that in four days he +could go no more than six miles; still, even at that pace, he went on and +resolutely kept his face towards the Border. At length, he lay down at the +village of Burgh-upon-Sands; and there, telling those around him to impress +upon the Prince that he was to remember his father’s vow, and was never +to rest until he had thoroughly subdued Scotland, he yielded up his last +breath. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap17"></a>CHAPTER XVII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE SECOND</h2> + +<p> +King Edward the Second, the first Prince of Wales, was twenty-three years old +when his father died. There was a certain favourite of his, a young man from +Gascony, named <span class="smcap">Piers Gaveston</span>, of whom his father +had so much disapproved that he had ordered him out of England, and had made +his son swear by the side of his sick-bed, never to bring him back. But, the +Prince no sooner found himself King, than he broke his oath, as so many other +Princes and Kings did (they were far too ready to take oaths), and sent for his +dear friend immediately. +</p> + +<p> +Now, this same Gaveston was handsome enough, but was a reckless, insolent, +audacious fellow. He was detested by the proud English Lords: not only because +he had such power over the King, and made the Court such a dissipated place, +but, also, because he could ride better than they at tournaments, and was used, +in his impudence, to cut very bad jokes on them; calling one, the old hog; +another, the stage-player; another, the Jew; another, the black dog of Ardenne. +This was as poor wit as need be, but it made those Lords very wroth; and the +surly Earl of Warwick, who was the black dog, swore that the time should come +when Piers Gaveston should feel the black dog’s teeth. +</p> + +<p> +It was not come yet, however, nor did it seem to be coming. The King made him +Earl of Cornwall, and gave him vast riches; and, when the King went over to +France to marry the French Princess, <span class="smcap">Isabella</span>, +daughter of <span class="smcap">Philip le Bel</span>: who was said to be the +most beautiful woman in the world: he made Gaveston, Regent of the Kingdom. His +splendid marriage-ceremony in the Church of Our Lady at Boulogne, where there +were four Kings and three Queens present (quite a pack of Court Cards, for I +dare say the Knaves were not wanting), being over, he seemed to care little or +nothing for his beautiful wife; but was wild with impatience to meet Gaveston +again. +</p> + +<p> +When he landed at home, he paid no attention to anybody else, but ran into the +favourite’s arms before a great concourse of people, and hugged him, and +kissed him, and called him his brother. At the coronation which soon followed, +Gaveston was the richest and brightest of all the glittering company there, and +had the honour of carrying the crown. This made the proud Lords fiercer than +ever; the people, too, despised the favourite, and would never call him Earl of +Cornwall, however much he complained to the King and asked him to punish them +for not doing so, but persisted in styling him plain Piers Gaveston. +</p> + +<p> +The Barons were so unceremonious with the King in giving him to understand that +they would not bear this favourite, that the King was obliged to send him out +of the country. The favourite himself was made to take an oath (more oaths!) +that he would never come back, and the Barons supposed him to be banished in +disgrace, until they heard that he was appointed Governor of Ireland. Even this +was not enough for the besotted King, who brought him home again in a +year’s time, and not only disgusted the Court and the people by his +doting folly, but offended his beautiful wife too, who never liked him +afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +He had now the old Royal want—of money—and the Barons had the new +power of positively refusing to let him raise any. He summoned a Parliament at +York; the Barons refused to make one, while the favourite was near him. He +summoned another Parliament at Westminster, and sent Gaveston away. Then, the +Barons came, completely armed, and appointed a committee of themselves to +correct abuses in the state and in the King’s household. He got some +money on these conditions, and directly set off with Gaveston to the +Border-country, where they spent it in idling away the time, and feasting, +while Bruce made ready to drive the English out of Scotland. For, though the +old King had even made this poor weak son of his swear (as some say) that he +would not bury his bones, but would have them boiled clean in a caldron, and +carried before the English army until Scotland was entirely subdued, the second +Edward was so unlike the first that Bruce gained strength and power every day. +</p> + +<p> +The committee of Nobles, after some months of deliberation, ordained that the +King should henceforth call a Parliament together, once every year, and even +twice if necessary, instead of summoning it only when he chose. Further, that +Gaveston should once more be banished, and, this time, on pain of death if he +ever came back. The King’s tears were of no avail; he was obliged to send +his favourite to Flanders. As soon as he had done so, however, he dissolved the +Parliament, with the low cunning of a mere fool, and set off to the North of +England, thinking to get an army about him to oppose the Nobles. And once again +he brought Gaveston home, and heaped upon him all the riches and titles of +which the Barons had deprived him. +</p> + +<p> +The Lords saw, now, that there was nothing for it but to put the favourite to +death. They could have done so, legally, according to the terms of his +banishment; but they did so, I am sorry to say, in a shabby manner. Led by the +Earl of Lancaster, the King’s cousin, they first of all attacked the King +and Gaveston at Newcastle. They had time to escape by sea, and the mean King, +having his precious Gaveston with him, was quite content to leave his lovely +wife behind. When they were comparatively safe, they separated; the King went +to York to collect a force of soldiers; and the favourite shut himself up, in +the meantime, in Scarborough Castle overlooking the sea. This was what the +Barons wanted. They knew that the Castle could not hold out; they attacked it, +and made Gaveston surrender. He delivered himself up to the Earl of +Pembroke—that Lord whom he had called the Jew—on the Earl’s +pledging his faith and knightly word, that no harm should happen to him and no +violence be done him. +</p> + +<p> +Now, it was agreed with Gaveston that he should be taken to the Castle of +Wallingford, and there kept in honourable custody. They travelled as far as +Dedington, near Banbury, where, in the Castle of that place, they stopped for a +night to rest. Whether the Earl of Pembroke left his prisoner there, knowing +what would happen, or really left him thinking no harm, and only going (as he +pretended) to visit his wife, the Countess, who was in the neighbourhood, is no +great matter now; in any case, he was bound as an honourable gentleman to +protect his prisoner, and he did not do it. In the morning, while the favourite +was yet in bed, he was required to dress himself and come down into the +court-yard. He did so without any mistrust, but started and turned pale when he +found it full of strange armed men. ‘I think you know me?’ said +their leader, also armed from head to foot. ‘I am the black dog of +Ardenne!’ The time was come when Piers Gaveston was to feel the black +dog’s teeth indeed. They set him on a mule, and carried him, in mock +state and with military music, to the black dog’s kennel—Warwick +Castle—where a hasty council, composed of some great noblemen, considered +what should be done with him. Some were for sparing him, but one loud +voice—it was the black dog’s bark, I dare say—sounded through +the Castle Hall, uttering these words: ‘You have the fox in your power. +Let him go now, and you must hunt him again.’ +</p> + +<p> +They sentenced him to death. He threw himself at the feet of the Earl of +Lancaster—the old hog—but the old hog was as savage as the dog. He +was taken out upon the pleasant road, leading from Warwick to Coventry, where +the beautiful river Avon, by which, long afterwards, <span +class="smcap">William Shakespeare</span> was born and now lies buried, sparkled +in the bright landscape of the beautiful May-day; and there they struck off his +wretched head, and stained the dust with his blood. +</p> + +<p> +When the King heard of this black deed, in his grief and rage he denounced +relentless war against his Barons, and both sides were in arms for half a year. +But, it then became necessary for them to join their forces against Bruce, who +had used the time well while they were divided, and had now a great power in +Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +Intelligence was brought that Bruce was then besieging Stirling Castle, and +that the Governor had been obliged to pledge himself to surrender it, unless he +should be relieved before a certain day. Hereupon, the King ordered the nobles +and their fighting-men to meet him at Berwick; but, the nobles cared so little +for the King, and so neglected the summons, and lost time, that only on the day +before that appointed for the surrender, did the King find himself at Stirling, +and even then with a smaller force than he had expected. However, he had, +altogether, a hundred thousand men, and Bruce had not more than forty thousand; +but, Bruce’s army was strongly posted in three square columns, on the +ground lying between the Burn or Brook of Bannock and the walls of Stirling +Castle. +</p> + +<p> +On the very evening, when the King came up, Bruce did a brave act that +encouraged his men. He was seen by a certain <span class="smcap">Henry de +Bohun</span>, an English Knight, riding about before his army on a little +horse, with a light battle-axe in his hand, and a crown of gold on his head. +This English Knight, who was mounted on a strong war-horse, cased in steel, +strongly armed, and able (as he thought) to overthrow Bruce by crushing him +with his mere weight, set spurs to his great charger, rode on him, and made a +thrust at him with his heavy spear. Bruce parried the thrust, and with one blow +of his battle-axe split his skull. +</p> + +<p> +The Scottish men did not forget this, next day when the battle raged. <span +class="smcap">Randolph</span>, Bruce’s valiant Nephew, rode, with the +small body of men he commanded, into such a host of the English, all shining in +polished armour in the sunlight, that they seemed to be swallowed up and lost, +as if they had plunged into the sea. But, they fought so well, and did such +dreadful execution, that the English staggered. Then came Bruce himself upon +them, with all the rest of his army. While they were thus hard pressed and +amazed, there appeared upon the hills what they supposed to be a new Scottish +army, but what were really only the camp followers, in number fifteen thousand: +whom Bruce had taught to show themselves at that place and time. The Earl of +Gloucester, commanding the English horse, made a last rush to change the +fortune of the day; but Bruce (like Jack the Giant-killer in the story) had had +pits dug in the ground, and covered over with turfs and stakes. Into these, as +they gave way beneath the weight of the horses, riders and horses rolled by +hundreds. The English were completely routed; all their treasure, stores, and +engines, were taken by the Scottish men; so many waggons and other wheeled +vehicles were seized, that it is related that they would have reached, if they +had been drawn out in a line, one hundred and eighty miles. The fortunes of +Scotland were, for the time, completely changed; and never was a battle won, +more famous upon Scottish ground, than this great battle of <span +class="smcap">Bannockburn</span>. +</p> + +<p> +Plague and famine succeeded in England; and still the powerless King and his +disdainful Lords were always in contention. Some of the turbulent chiefs of +Ireland made proposals to Bruce, to accept the rule of that country. He sent +his brother Edward to them, who was crowned King of Ireland. He afterwards went +himself to help his brother in his Irish wars, but his brother was defeated in +the end and killed. Robert Bruce, returning to Scotland, still increased his +strength there. +</p> + +<p> +As the King’s ruin had begun in a favourite, so it seemed likely to end +in one. He was too poor a creature to rely at all upon himself; and his new +favourite was one <span class="smcap">Hugh le Despenser</span>, the son of a +gentleman of ancient family. Hugh was handsome and brave, but he was the +favourite of a weak King, whom no man cared a rush for, and that was a +dangerous place to hold. The Nobles leagued against him, because the King liked +him; and they lay in wait, both for his ruin and his father’s. Now, the +King had married him to the daughter of the late Earl of Gloucester, and had +given both him and his father great possessions in Wales. In their endeavours +to extend these, they gave violent offence to an angry Welsh gentleman, named +<span class="smcap">John de Mowbray</span>, and to divers other angry Welsh +gentlemen, who resorted to arms, took their castles, and seized their estates. +The Earl of Lancaster had first placed the favourite (who was a poor relation +of his own) at Court, and he considered his own dignity offended by the +preference he received and the honours he acquired; so he, and the Barons who +were his friends, joined the Welshmen, marched on London, and sent a message to +the King demanding to have the favourite and his father banished. At first, the +King unaccountably took it into his head to be spirited, and to send them a +bold reply; but when they quartered themselves around Holborn and Clerkenwell, +and went down, armed, to the Parliament at Westminster, he gave way, and +complied with their demands. +</p> + +<p> +His turn of triumph came sooner than he expected. It arose out of an accidental +circumstance. The beautiful Queen happening to be travelling, came one night to +one of the royal castles, and demanded to be lodged and entertained there until +morning. The governor of this castle, who was one of the enraged lords, was +away, and in his absence, his wife refused admission to the Queen; a scuffle +took place among the common men on either side, and some of the royal +attendants were killed. The people, who cared nothing for the King, were very +angry that their beautiful Queen should be thus rudely treated in her own +dominions; and the King, taking advantage of this feeling, besieged the castle, +took it, and then called the two Despensers home. Upon this, the confederate +lords and the Welshmen went over to Bruce. The King encountered them at +Boroughbridge, gained the victory, and took a number of distinguished +prisoners; among them, the Earl of Lancaster, now an old man, upon whose +destruction he was resolved. This Earl was taken to his own castle of +Pontefract, and there tried and found guilty by an unfair court appointed for +the purpose; he was not even allowed to speak in his own defence. He was +insulted, pelted, mounted on a starved pony without saddle or bridle, carried +out, and beheaded. Eight-and-twenty knights were hanged, drawn, and quartered. +When the King had despatched this bloody work, and had made a fresh and a long +truce with Bruce, he took the Despensers into greater favour than ever, and +made the father Earl of Winchester. +</p> + +<p> +One prisoner, and an important one, who was taken at Boroughbridge, made his +escape, however, and turned the tide against the King. This was <span +class="smcap">Roger Mortimer</span>, always resolutely opposed to him, who was +sentenced to death, and placed for safe custody in the Tower of London. He +treated his guards to a quantity of wine into which he had put a sleeping +potion; and, when they were insensible, broke out of his dungeon, got into a +kitchen, climbed up the chimney, let himself down from the roof of the building +with a rope-ladder, passed the sentries, got down to the river, and made away +in a boat to where servants and horses were waiting for him. He finally escaped +to France, where <span class="smcap">Charles le Bel</span>, the brother of the +beautiful Queen, was King. Charles sought to quarrel with the King of England, +on pretence of his not having come to do him homage at his coronation. It was +proposed that the beautiful Queen should go over to arrange the dispute; she +went, and wrote home to the King, that as he was sick and could not come to +France himself, perhaps it would be better to send over the young Prince, their +son, who was only twelve years old, who could do homage to her brother in his +stead, and in whose company she would immediately return. The King sent him: +but, both he and the Queen remained at the French Court, and Roger Mortimer +became the Queen’s lover. +</p> + +<p> +When the King wrote, again and again, to the Queen to come home, she did not +reply that she despised him too much to live with him any more (which was the +truth), but said she was afraid of the two Despensers. In short, her design was +to overthrow the favourites’ power, and the King’s power, such as +it was, and invade England. Having obtained a French force of two thousand men, +and being joined by all the English exiles then in France, she landed, within a +year, at Orewell, in Suffolk, where she was immediately joined by the Earls of +Kent and Norfolk, the King’s two brothers; by other powerful noblemen; +and lastly, by the first English general who was despatched to check her: who +went over to her with all his men. The people of London, receiving these +tidings, would do nothing for the King, but broke open the Tower, let out all +his prisoners, and threw up their caps and hurrahed for the beautiful Queen. +</p> + +<p> +The King, with his two favourites, fled to Bristol, where he left old Despenser +in charge of the town and castle, while he went on with the son to Wales. The +Bristol men being opposed to the King, and it being impossible to hold the town +with enemies everywhere within the walls, Despenser yielded it up on the third +day, and was instantly brought to trial for having traitorously influenced what +was called ‘the King’s mind’—though I doubt if the King +ever had any. He was a venerable old man, upwards of ninety years of age, but +his age gained no respect or mercy. He was hanged, torn open while he was yet +alive, cut up into pieces, and thrown to the dogs. His son was soon taken, +tried at Hereford before the same judge on a long series of foolish charges, +found guilty, and hanged upon a gallows fifty feet high, with a chaplet of +nettles round his head. His poor old father and he were innocent enough of any +worse crimes than the crime of having been friends of a King, on whom, as a +mere man, they would never have deigned to cast a favourable look. It is a bad +crime, I know, and leads to worse; but, many lords and gentlemen—I even +think some ladies, too, if I recollect right—have committed it in +England, who have neither been given to the dogs, nor hanged up fifty feet +high. +</p> + +<p> +The wretched King was running here and there, all this time, and never getting +anywhere in particular, until he gave himself up, and was taken off to +Kenilworth Castle. When he was safely lodged there, the Queen went to London +and met the Parliament. And the Bishop of Hereford, who was the most skilful of +her friends, said, What was to be done now? Here was an imbecile, indolent, +miserable King upon the throne; wouldn’t it be better to take him off, +and put his son there instead? I don’t know whether the Queen really +pitied him at this pass, but she began to cry; so, the Bishop said, Well, my +Lords and Gentlemen, what do you think, upon the whole, of sending down to +Kenilworth, and seeing if His Majesty (God bless him, and forbid we should +depose him!) won’t resign? +</p> + +<p> +My Lords and Gentlemen thought it a good notion, so a deputation of them went +down to Kenilworth; and there the King came into the great hall of the Castle, +commonly dressed in a poor black gown; and when he saw a certain bishop among +them, fell down, poor feeble-headed man, and made a wretched spectacle of +himself. Somebody lifted him up, and then <span class="smcap">Sir William +Trussel</span>, the Speaker of the House of Commons, almost frightened him to +death by making him a tremendous speech to the effect that he was no longer a +King, and that everybody renounced allegiance to him. After which, <span +class="smcap">Sir Thomas Blount</span>, the Steward of the Household, nearly +finished him, by coming forward and breaking his white wand—which was a +ceremony only performed at a King’s death. Being asked in this pressing +manner what he thought of resigning, the King said he thought it was the best +thing he could do. So, he did it, and they proclaimed his son next day. +</p> + +<p> +I wish I could close his history by saying that he lived a harmless life in the +Castle and the Castle gardens at Kenilworth, many years—that he had a +favourite, and plenty to eat and drink—and, having that, wanted nothing. +But he was shamefully humiliated. He was outraged, and slighted, and had dirty +water from ditches given him to shave with, and wept and said he would have +clean warm water, and was altogether very miserable. He was moved from this +castle to that castle, and from that castle to the other castle, because this +lord or that lord, or the other lord, was too kind to him: until at last he +came to Berkeley Castle, near the River Severn, where (the Lord Berkeley being +then ill and absent) he fell into the hands of two black ruffians, called <span +class="smcap">Thomas Gournay</span> and <span class="smcap">William +Ogle</span>. +</p> + +<p> +One night—it was the night of September the twenty-first, one thousand +three hundred and twenty-seven—dreadful screams were heard, by the +startled people in the neighbouring town, ringing through the thick walls of +the Castle, and the dark, deep night; and they said, as they were thus horribly +awakened from their sleep, ‘May Heaven be merciful to the King; for those +cries forbode that no good is being done to him in his dismal prison!’ +Next morning he was dead—not bruised, or stabbed, or marked upon the +body, but much distorted in the face; and it was whispered afterwards, that +those two villains, Gournay and Ogle, had burnt up his inside with a red-hot +iron. +</p> + +<p> +If you ever come near Gloucester, and see the centre tower of its beautiful +Cathedral, with its four rich pinnacles, rising lightly in the air; you may +remember that the wretched Edward the Second was buried in the old abbey of +that ancient city, at forty-three years old, after being for nineteen years and +a half a perfectly incapable King. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap18"></a>CHAPTER XVIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE THIRD</h2> + +<p> +Roger Mortimer, the Queen’s lover (who escaped to France in the last +chapter), was far from profiting by the examples he had had of the fate of +favourites. Having, through the Queen’s influence, come into possession +of the estates of the two Despensers, he became extremely proud and ambitious, +and sought to be the real ruler of England. The young King, who was crowned at +fourteen years of age with all the usual solemnities, resolved not to bear +this, and soon pursued Mortimer to his ruin. +</p> + +<p> +The people themselves were not fond of Mortimer—first, because he was a +Royal favourite; secondly, because he was supposed to have helped to make a +peace with Scotland which now took place, and in virtue of which the young +King’s sister Joan, only seven years old, was promised in marriage to +David, the son and heir of Robert Bruce, who was only five years old. The +nobles hated Mortimer because of his pride, riches, and power. They went so far +as to take up arms against him; but were obliged to submit. The Earl of Kent, +one of those who did so, but who afterwards went over to Mortimer and the +Queen, was made an example of in the following cruel manner: +</p> + +<p> +He seems to have been anything but a wise old earl; and he was persuaded by the +agents of the favourite and the Queen, that poor King Edward the Second was not +really dead; and thus was betrayed into writing letters favouring his rightful +claim to the throne. This was made out to be high treason, and he was tried, +found guilty, and sentenced to be executed. They took the poor old lord outside +the town of Winchester, and there kept him waiting some three or four hours +until they could find somebody to cut off his head. At last, a convict said he +would do it, if the government would pardon him in return; and they gave him +the pardon; and at one blow he put the Earl of Kent out of his last suspense. +</p> + +<p> +While the Queen was in France, she had found a lovely and good young lady, +named Philippa, who she thought would make an excellent wife for her son. The +young King married this lady, soon after he came to the throne; and her first +child, Edward, Prince of Wales, afterwards became celebrated, as we shall +presently see, under the famous title of <span class="smcap">Edward the Black +Prince</span>. +</p> + +<p> +The young King, thinking the time ripe for the downfall of Mortimer, took +counsel with Lord Montacute how he should proceed. A Parliament was going to be +held at Nottingham, and that lord recommended that the favourite should be +seized by night in Nottingham Castle, where he was sure to be. Now, this, like +many other things, was more easily said than done; because, to guard against +treachery, the great gates of the Castle were locked every night, and the great +keys were carried up-stairs to the Queen, who laid them under her own pillow. +But the Castle had a governor, and the governor being Lord Montacute’s +friend, confided to him how he knew of a secret passage underground, hidden +from observation by the weeds and brambles with which it was overgrown; and +how, through that passage, the conspirators might enter in the dead of the +night, and go straight to Mortimer’s room. Accordingly, upon a certain +dark night, at midnight, they made their way through this dismal place: +startling the rats, and frightening the owls and bats: and came safely to the +bottom of the main tower of the Castle, where the King met them, and took them +up a profoundly-dark staircase in a deep silence. They soon heard the voice of +Mortimer in council with some friends; and bursting into the room with a sudden +noise, took him prisoner. The Queen cried out from her bed-chamber, ‘Oh, +my sweet son, my dear son, spare my gentle Mortimer!’ They carried him +off, however; and, before the next Parliament, accused him of having made +differences between the young King and his mother, and of having brought about +the death of the Earl of Kent, and even of the late King; for, as you know by +this time, when they wanted to get rid of a man in those old days, they were +not very particular of what they accused him. Mortimer was found guilty of all +this, and was sentenced to be hanged at Tyburn. The King shut his mother up in +genteel confinement, where she passed the rest of her life; and now he became +King in earnest. +</p> + +<p> +The first effort he made was to conquer Scotland. The English lords who had +lands in Scotland, finding that their rights were not respected under the late +peace, made war on their own account: choosing for their general, Edward, the +son of John Baliol, who made such a vigorous fight, that in less than two +months he won the whole Scottish Kingdom. He was joined, when thus triumphant, +by the King and Parliament; and he and the King in person besieged the Scottish +forces in Berwick. The whole Scottish army coming to the assistance of their +countrymen, such a furious battle ensued, that thirty thousand men are said to +have been killed in it. Baliol was then crowned King of Scotland, doing homage +to the King of England; but little came of his successes after all, for the +Scottish men rose against him, within no very long time, and David Bruce came +back within ten years and took his kingdom. +</p> + +<p> +France was a far richer country than Scotland, and the King had a much greater +mind to conquer it. So, he let Scotland alone, and pretended that he had a +claim to the French throne in right of his mother. He had, in reality, no claim +at all; but that mattered little in those times. He brought over to his cause +many little princes and sovereigns, and even courted the alliance of the people +of Flanders—a busy, working community, who had very small respect for +kings, and whose head man was a brewer. With such forces as he raised by these +means, Edward invaded France; but he did little by that, except run into debt +in carrying on the war to the extent of three hundred thousand pounds. The next +year he did better; gaining a great sea-fight in the harbour of Sluys. This +success, however, was very shortlived, for the Flemings took fright at the +siege of Saint Omer and ran away, leaving their weapons and baggage behind +them. Philip, the French King, coming up with his army, and Edward being very +anxious to decide the war, proposed to settle the difference by single combat +with him, or by a fight of one hundred knights on each side. The French King +said, he thanked him; but being very well as he was, he would rather not. So, +after some skirmishing and talking, a short peace was made. +</p> + +<p> +It was soon broken by King Edward’s favouring the cause of John, Earl of +Montford; a French nobleman, who asserted a claim of his own against the French +King, and offered to do homage to England for the Crown of France, if he could +obtain it through England’s help. This French lord, himself, was soon +defeated by the French King’s son, and shut up in a tower in Paris; but +his wife, a courageous and beautiful woman, who is said to have had the courage +of a man, and the heart of a lion, assembled the people of Brittany, where she +then was; and, showing them her infant son, made many pathetic entreaties to +them not to desert her and their young Lord. They took fire at this appeal, and +rallied round her in the strong castle of Hennebon. Here she was not only +besieged without by the French under Charles de Blois, but was endangered +within by a dreary old bishop, who was always representing to the people what +horrors they must undergo if they were faithful—first from famine, and +afterwards from fire and sword. But this noble lady, whose heart never failed +her, encouraged her soldiers by her own example; went from post to post like a +great general; even mounted on horseback fully armed, and, issuing from the +castle by a by-path, fell upon the French camp, set fire to the tents, and +threw the whole force into disorder. This done, she got safely back to Hennebon +again, and was received with loud shouts of joy by the defenders of the castle, +who had given her up for lost. As they were now very short of provisions, +however, and as they could not dine off enthusiasm, and as the old bishop was +always saying, ‘I told you what it would come to!’ they began to +lose heart, and to talk of yielding the castle up. The brave Countess retiring +to an upper room and looking with great grief out to sea, where she expected +relief from England, saw, at this very time, the English ships in the distance, +and was relieved and rescued! Sir Walter Manning, the English commander, so +admired her courage, that, being come into the castle with the English knights, +and having made a feast there, he assaulted the French by way of dessert, and +beat them off triumphantly. Then he and the knights came back to the castle +with great joy; and the Countess who had watched them from a high tower, +thanked them with all her heart, and kissed them every one. +</p> + +<p> +This noble lady distinguished herself afterwards in a sea-fight with the French +off Guernsey, when she was on her way to England to ask for more troops. Her +great spirit roused another lady, the wife of another French lord (whom the +French King very barbarously murdered), to distinguish herself scarcely less. +The time was fast coming, however, when Edward, Prince of Wales, was to be the +great star of this French and English war. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the month of July, in the year one thousand three hundred and +forty-six, when the King embarked at Southampton for France, with an army of +about thirty thousand men in all, attended by the Prince of Wales and by +several of the chief nobles. He landed at La Hogue in Normandy; and, burning +and destroying as he went, according to custom, advanced up the left bank of +the River Seine, and fired the small towns even close to Paris; but, being +watched from the right bank of the river by the French King and all his army, +it came to this at last, that Edward found himself, on Saturday the +twenty-sixth of August, one thousand three hundred and forty-six, on a rising +ground behind the little French village of Crecy, face to face with the French +King’s force. And, although the French King had an enormous army—in +number more than eight times his—he there resolved to beat him or be +beaten. +</p> + +<p> +The young Prince, assisted by the Earl of Oxford and the Earl of Warwick, led +the first division of the English army; two other great Earls led the second; +and the King, the third. When the morning dawned, the King received the +sacrament, and heard prayers, and then, mounted on horseback with a white wand +in his hand, rode from company to company, and rank to rank, cheering and +encouraging both officers and men. Then the whole army breakfasted, each man +sitting on the ground where he had stood; and then they remained quietly on the +ground with their weapons ready. +</p> + +<p> +Up came the French King with all his great force. It was dark and angry +weather; there was an eclipse of the sun; there was a thunder-storm, +accompanied with tremendous rain; the frightened birds flew screaming above the +soldiers’ heads. A certain captain in the French army advised the French +King, who was by no means cheerful, not to begin the battle until the morrow. +The King, taking this advice, gave the word to halt. But, those behind not +understanding it, or desiring to be foremost with the rest, came pressing on. +The roads for a great distance were covered with this immense army, and with +the common people from the villages, who were flourishing their rude weapons, +and making a great noise. Owing to these circumstances, the French army +advanced in the greatest confusion; every French lord doing what he liked with +his own men, and putting out the men of every other French lord. +</p> + +<p> +Now, their King relied strongly upon a great body of cross-bowmen from Genoa; +and these he ordered to the front to begin the battle, on finding that he could +not stop it. They shouted once, they shouted twice, they shouted three times, +to alarm the English archers; but, the English would have heard them shout +three thousand times and would have never moved. At last the cross-bowmen went +forward a little, and began to discharge their bolts; upon which, the English +let fly such a hail of arrows, that the Genoese speedily made off—for +their cross-bows, besides being heavy to carry, required to be wound up with a +handle, and consequently took time to re-load; the English, on the other hand, +could discharge their arrows almost as fast as the arrows could fly. +</p> + +<p> +When the French King saw the Genoese turning, he cried out to his men to kill +those scoundrels, who were doing harm instead of service. This increased the +confusion. Meanwhile the English archers, continuing to shoot as fast as ever, +shot down great numbers of the French soldiers and knights; whom certain sly +Cornish-men and Welshmen, from the English army, creeping along the ground, +despatched with great knives. +</p> + +<p> +The Prince and his division were at this time so hard-pressed, that the Earl of +Warwick sent a message to the King, who was overlooking the battle from a +windmill, beseeching him to send more aid. +</p> + +<p> +‘Is my son killed?’ said the King. +</p> + +<p> +‘No, sire, please God,’ returned the messenger. +</p> + +<p> +‘Is he wounded?’ said the King. +</p> + +<p> +‘No, sire.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Is he thrown to the ground?’ said the King. +</p> + +<p> +‘No, sire, not so; but, he is very hard-pressed.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Then,’ said the King, ‘go back to those who sent you, and +tell them I shall send no aid; because I set my heart upon my son proving +himself this day a brave knight, and because I am resolved, please God, that +the honour of a great victory shall be his!’ +</p> + +<p> +These bold words, being reported to the Prince and his division, so raised +their spirits, that they fought better than ever. The King of France charged +gallantly with his men many times; but it was of no use. Night closing in, his +horse was killed under him by an English arrow, and the knights and nobles who +had clustered thick about him early in the day, were now completely scattered. +At last, some of his few remaining followers led him off the field by force +since he would not retire of himself, and they journeyed away to Amiens. The +victorious English, lighting their watch-fires, made merry on the field, and +the King, riding to meet his gallant son, took him in his arms, kissed him, and +told him that he had acted nobly, and proved himself worthy of the day and of +the crown. While it was yet night, King Edward was hardly aware of the great +victory he had gained; but, next day, it was discovered that eleven princes, +twelve hundred knights, and thirty thousand common men lay dead upon the French +side. Among these was the King of Bohemia, an old blind man; who, having been +told that his son was wounded in the battle, and that no force could stand +against the Black Prince, called to him two knights, put himself on horse-back +between them, fastened the three bridles together, and dashed in among the +English, where he was presently slain. He bore as his crest three white ostrich +feathers, with the motto <i>Ich dien</i>, signifying in English ‘I +serve.’ This crest and motto were taken by the Prince of Wales in +remembrance of that famous day, and have been borne by the Prince of Wales ever +since. +</p> + +<p> +Five days after this great battle, the King laid siege to Calais. This +siege—ever afterwards memorable—lasted nearly a year. In order to +starve the inhabitants out, King Edward built so many wooden houses for the +lodgings of his troops, that it is said their quarters looked like a second +Calais suddenly sprung around the first. Early in the siege, the governor of +the town drove out what he called the useless mouths, to the number of +seventeen hundred persons, men and women, young and old. King Edward allowed +them to pass through his lines, and even fed them, and dismissed them with +money; but, later in the siege, he was not so merciful—five hundred more, +who were afterwards driven out, dying of starvation and misery. The garrison +were so hard-pressed at last, that they sent a letter to King Philip, telling +him that they had eaten all the horses, all the dogs, and all the rats and mice +that could be found in the place; and, that if he did not relieve them, they +must either surrender to the English, or eat one another. Philip made one +effort to give them relief; but they were so hemmed in by the English power, +that he could not succeed, and was fain to leave the place. Upon this they +hoisted the English flag, and surrendered to King Edward. ‘Tell your +general,’ said he to the humble messengers who came out of the town, +‘that I require to have sent here, six of the most distinguished +citizens, bare-legged, and in their shirts, with ropes about their necks; and +let those six men bring with them the keys of the castle and the town.’ +</p> + +<p> +When the Governor of Calais related this to the people in the Market-place, +there was great weeping and distress; in the midst of which, one worthy +citizen, named Eustace de Saint Pierre, rose up and said, that if the six men +required were not sacrificed, the whole population would be; therefore, he +offered himself as the first. Encouraged by this bright example, five other +worthy citizens rose up one after another, and offered themselves to save the +rest. The Governor, who was too badly wounded to be able to walk, mounted a +poor old horse that had not been eaten, and conducted these good men to the +gate, while all the people cried and mourned. +</p> + +<p> +Edward received them wrathfully, and ordered the heads of the whole six to be +struck off. However, the good Queen fell upon her knees, and besought the King +to give them up to her. The King replied, ‘I wish you had been somewhere +else; but I cannot refuse you.’ So she had them properly dressed, made a +feast for them, and sent them back with a handsome present, to the great +rejoicing of the whole camp. I hope the people of Calais loved the daughter to +whom she gave birth soon afterwards, for her gentle mother’s sake. +</p> + +<p> +Now came that terrible disease, the Plague, into Europe, hurrying from the +heart of China; and killed the wretched people—especially the +poor—in such enormous numbers, that one-half of the inhabitants of +England are related to have died of it. It killed the cattle, in great numbers, +too; and so few working men remained alive, that there were not enough left to +till the ground. +</p> + +<p> +After eight years of differing and quarrelling, the Prince of Wales again +invaded France with an army of sixty thousand men. He went through the south of +the country, burning and plundering wheresoever he went; while his father, who +had still the Scottish war upon his hands, did the like in Scotland, but was +harassed and worried in his retreat from that country by the Scottish men, who +repaid his cruelties with interest. +</p> + +<p> +The French King, Philip, was now dead, and was succeeded by his son John. The +Black Prince, called by that name from the colour of the armour he wore to set +off his fair complexion, continuing to burn and destroy in France, roused John +into determined opposition; and so cruel had the Black Prince been in his +campaign, and so severely had the French peasants suffered, that he could not +find one who, for love, or money, or the fear of death, would tell him what the +French King was doing, or where he was. Thus it happened that he came upon the +French King’s forces, all of a sudden, near the town of Poitiers, and +found that the whole neighbouring country was occupied by a vast French army. +‘God help us!’ said the Black Prince, ‘we must make the best +of it.’ +</p> + +<p> +So, on a Sunday morning, the eighteenth of September, the Prince whose army was +now reduced to ten thousand men in all—prepared to give battle to the +French King, who had sixty thousand horse alone. While he was so engaged, there +came riding from the French camp, a Cardinal, who had persuaded John to let him +offer terms, and try to save the shedding of Christian blood. ‘Save my +honour,’ said the Prince to this good priest, ‘and save the honour +of my army, and I will make any reasonable terms.’ He offered to give up +all the towns, castles, and prisoners, he had taken, and to swear to make no +war in France for seven years; but, as John would hear of nothing but his +surrender, with a hundred of his chief knights, the treaty was broken off, and +the Prince said quietly—‘God defend the right; we shall fight +to-morrow.’ +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, on the Monday morning, at break of day, the two armies prepared for +battle. The English were posted in a strong place, which could only be +approached by one narrow lane, skirted by hedges on both sides. The French +attacked them by this lane; but were so galled and slain by English arrows from +behind the hedges, that they were forced to retreat. Then went six hundred +English bowmen round about, and, coming upon the rear of the French army, +rained arrows on them thick and fast. The French knights, thrown into +confusion, quitted their banners and dispersed in all directions. Said Sir John +Chandos to the Prince, ‘Ride forward, noble Prince, and the day is yours. +The King of France is so valiant a gentleman, that I know he will never fly, +and may be taken prisoner.’ Said the Prince to this, ‘Advance, +English banners, in the name of God and St. George!’ and on they pressed +until they came up with the French King, fighting fiercely with his battle-axe, +and, when all his nobles had forsaken him, attended faithfully to the last by +his youngest son Philip, only sixteen years of age. Father and son fought well, +and the King had already two wounds in his face, and had been beaten down, when +he at last delivered himself to a banished French knight, and gave him his +right-hand glove in token that he had done so. +</p> + +<p> +The Black Prince was generous as well as brave, and he invited his royal +prisoner to supper in his tent, and waited upon him at table, and, when they +afterwards rode into London in a gorgeous procession, mounted the French King +on a fine cream-coloured horse, and rode at his side on a little pony. This was +all very kind, but I think it was, perhaps, a little theatrical too, and has +been made more meritorious than it deserved to be; especially as I am inclined +to think that the greatest kindness to the King of France would have been not +to have shown him to the people at all. However, it must be said, for these +acts of politeness, that, in course of time, they did much to soften the +horrors of war and the passions of conquerors. It was a long, long time before +the common soldiers began to have the benefit of such courtly deeds; but they +did at last; and thus it is possible that a poor soldier who asked for quarter +at the battle of Waterloo, or any other such great fight, may have owed his +life indirectly to Edward the Black Prince. +</p> + +<p> +At this time there stood in the Strand, in London, a palace called the Savoy, +which was given up to the captive King of France and his son for their +residence. As the King of Scotland had now been King Edward’s captive for +eleven years too, his success was, at this time, tolerably complete. The +Scottish business was settled by the prisoner being released under the title of +Sir David, King of Scotland, and by his engaging to pay a large ransom. The +state of France encouraged England to propose harder terms to that country, +where the people rose against the unspeakable cruelty and barbarity of its +nobles; where the nobles rose in turn against the people; where the most +frightful outrages were committed on all sides; and where the insurrection of +the peasants, called the insurrection of the Jacquerie, from Jacques, a common +Christian name among the country people of France, awakened terrors and hatreds +that have scarcely yet passed away. A treaty called the Great Peace, was at +last signed, under which King Edward agreed to give up the greater part of his +conquests, and King John to pay, within six years, a ransom of three million +crowns of gold. He was so beset by his own nobles and courtiers for having +yielded to these conditions—though they could help him to no +better—that he came back of his own will to his old palace-prison of the +Savoy, and there died. +</p> + +<p> +There was a Sovereign of Castile at that time, called <span class="smcap">Pedro +the Cruel</span>, who deserved the name remarkably well: having committed, +among other cruelties, a variety of murders. This amiable monarch being driven +from his throne for his crimes, went to the province of Bordeaux, where the +Black Prince—now married to his cousin <span class="smcap">Joan</span>, a +pretty widow—was residing, and besought his help. The Prince, who took to +him much more kindly than a prince of such fame ought to have taken to such a +ruffian, readily listened to his fair promises, and agreeing to help him, sent +secret orders to some troublesome disbanded soldiers of his and his +father’s, who called themselves the Free Companions, and who had been a +pest to the French people, for some time, to aid this Pedro. The Prince, +himself, going into Spain to head the army of relief, soon set Pedro on his +throne again—where he no sooner found himself, than, of course, he +behaved like the villain he was, broke his word without the least shame, and +abandoned all the promises he had made to the Black Prince. +</p> + +<p> +Now, it had cost the Prince a good deal of money to pay soldiers to support +this murderous King; and finding himself, when he came back disgusted to +Bordeaux, not only in bad health, but deeply in debt, he began to tax his +French subjects to pay his creditors. They appealed to the French King, <span +class="smcap">Charles</span>; war again broke out; and the French town of +Limoges, which the Prince had greatly benefited, went over to the French King. +Upon this he ravaged the province of which it was the capital; burnt, and +plundered, and killed in the old sickening way; and refused mercy to the +prisoners, men, women, and children taken in the offending town, though he was +so ill and so much in need of pity himself from Heaven, that he was carried in +a litter. He lived to come home and make himself popular with the people and +Parliament, and he died on Trinity Sunday, the eighth of June, one thousand +three hundred and seventy-six, at forty-six years old. +</p> + +<p> +The whole nation mourned for him as one of the most renowned and beloved +princes it had ever had; and he was buried with great lamentations in +Canterbury Cathedral. Near to the tomb of Edward the Confessor, his monument, +with his figure, carved in stone, and represented in the old black armour, +lying on its back, may be seen at this day, with an ancient coat of mail, a +helmet, and a pair of gauntlets hanging from a beam above it, which most people +like to believe were once worn by the Black Prince. +</p> + +<p> +King Edward did not outlive his renowned son, long. He was old, and one Alice +Perrers, a beautiful lady, had contrived to make him so fond of her in his old +age, that he could refuse her nothing, and made himself ridiculous. She little +deserved his love, or—what I dare say she valued a great deal +more—the jewels of the late Queen, which he gave her among other rich +presents. She took the very ring from his finger on the morning of the day when +he died, and left him to be pillaged by his faithless servants. Only one good +priest was true to him, and attended him to the last. +</p> + +<p> +Besides being famous for the great victories I have related, the reign of King +Edward the Third was rendered memorable in better ways, by the growth of +architecture and the erection of Windsor Castle. In better ways still, by the +rising up of <span class="smcap">Wickliffe</span>, originally a poor parish +priest: who devoted himself to exposing, with wonderful power and success, the +ambition and corruption of the Pope, and of the whole church of which he was +the head. +</p> + +<p> +Some of those Flemings were induced to come to England in this reign too, and +to settle in Norfolk, where they made better woollen cloths than the English +had ever had before. The Order of the Garter (a very fine thing in its way, but +hardly so important as good clothes for the nation) also dates from this +period. The King is said to have picked ‘up a lady’s garter at a +ball, and to have said, <i>Honi soit qui mal y pense</i>—in English, +‘Evil be to him who evil thinks of it.’ The courtiers were usually +glad to imitate what the King said or did, and hence from a slight incident the +Order of the Garter was instituted, and became a great dignity. So the story +goes. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap19"></a>CHAPTER XIX<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE SECOND</h2> + +<p> +Richard, son of the Black Prince, a boy eleven years of age, succeeded to the +Crown under the title of King Richard the Second. The whole English nation were +ready to admire him for the sake of his brave father. As to the lords and +ladies about the Court, they declared him to be the most beautiful, the wisest, +and the best—even of princes—whom the lords and ladies about the +Court, generally declare to be the most beautiful, the wisest, and the best of +mankind. To flatter a poor boy in this base manner was not a very likely way to +develop whatever good was in him; and it brought him to anything but a good or +happy end. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Lancaster, the young King’s uncle—commonly called John +of Gaunt, from having been born at Ghent, which the common people so +pronounced—was supposed to have some thoughts of the throne himself; but, +as he was not popular, and the memory of the Black Prince was, he submitted to +his nephew. +</p> + +<p> +The war with France being still unsettled, the Government of England wanted +money to provide for the expenses that might arise out of it; accordingly a +certain tax, called the Poll-tax, which had originated in the last reign, was +ordered to be levied on the people. This was a tax on every person in the +kingdom, male and female, above the age of fourteen, of three groats (or three +four-penny pieces) a year; clergymen were charged more, and only beggars were +exempt. +</p> + +<p> +I have no need to repeat that the common people of England had long been +suffering under great oppression. They were still the mere slaves of the lords +of the land on which they lived, and were on most occasions harshly and +unjustly treated. But, they had begun by this time to think very seriously of +not bearing quite so much; and, probably, were emboldened by that French +insurrection I mentioned in the last chapter. +</p> + +<p> +The people of Essex rose against the Poll-tax, and being severely handled by +the government officers, killed some of them. At this very time one of the +tax-collectors, going his rounds from house to house, at Dartford in Kent came +to the cottage of one <span class="smcap">Wat</span>, a tiler by trade, and +claimed the tax upon his daughter. Her mother, who was at home, declared that +she was under the age of fourteen; upon that, the collector (as other +collectors had already done in different parts of England) behaved in a savage +way, and brutally insulted Wat Tyler’s daughter. The daughter screamed, +the mother screamed. Wat the Tiler, who was at work not far off, ran to the +spot, and did what any honest father under such provocation might have +done—struck the collector dead at a blow. +</p> + +<p> +Instantly the people of that town uprose as one man. They made Wat Tyler their +leader; they joined with the people of Essex, who were in arms under a priest +called <span class="smcap">Jack Straw</span>; they took out of prison another +priest named <span class="smcap">John Ball</span>; and gathering in numbers as +they went along, advanced, in a great confused army of poor men, to Blackheath. +It is said that they wanted to abolish all property, and to declare all men +equal. I do not think this very likely; because they stopped the travellers on +the roads and made them swear to be true to King Richard and the people. Nor +were they at all disposed to injure those who had done them no harm, merely +because they were of high station; for, the King’s mother, who had to +pass through their camp at Blackheath, on her way to her young son, lying for +safety in the Tower of London, had merely to kiss a few dirty-faced +rough-bearded men who were noisily fond of royalty, and so got away in perfect +safety. Next day the whole mass marched on to London Bridge. +</p> + +<p> +There was a drawbridge in the middle, which <span class="smcap">William +Walworth</span> the Mayor caused to be raised to prevent their coming into the +city; but they soon terrified the citizens into lowering it again, and spread +themselves, with great uproar, over the streets. They broke open the prisons; +they burned the papers in Lambeth Palace; they destroyed the <span +class="smcap">Duke of Lancaster’s</span> Palace, the Savoy, in the +Strand, said to be the most beautiful and splendid in England; they set fire to +the books and documents in the Temple; and made a great riot. Many of these +outrages were committed in drunkenness; since those citizens, who had +well-filled cellars, were only too glad to throw them open to save the rest of +their property; but even the drunken rioters were very careful to steal +nothing. They were so angry with one man, who was seen to take a silver cup at +the Savoy Palace, and put it in his breast, that they drowned him in the river, +cup and all. +</p> + +<p> +The young King had been taken out to treat with them before they committed +these excesses; but, he and the people about him were so frightened by the +riotous shouts, that they got back to the Tower in the best way they could. +This made the insurgents bolder; so they went on rioting away, striking off the +heads of those who did not, at a moment’s notice, declare for King +Richard and the people; and killing as many of the unpopular persons whom they +supposed to be their enemies as they could by any means lay hold of. In this +manner they passed one very violent day, and then proclamation was made that +the King would meet them at Mile-end, and grant their requests. +</p> + +<p> +The rioters went to Mile-end to the number of sixty thousand, and the King met +them there, and to the King the rioters peaceably proposed four conditions. +First, that neither they, nor their children, nor any coming after them, should +be made slaves any more. Secondly, that the rent of land should be fixed at a +certain price in money, instead of being paid in service. Thirdly, that they +should have liberty to buy and sell in all markets and public places, like +other free men. Fourthly, that they should be pardoned for past offences. +Heaven knows, there was nothing very unreasonable in these proposals! The young +King deceitfully pretended to think so, and kept thirty clerks up, all night, +writing out a charter accordingly. +</p> + +<p> +Now, Wat Tyler himself wanted more than this. He wanted the entire abolition of +the forest laws. He was not at Mile-end with the rest, but, while that meeting +was being held, broke into the Tower of London and slew the archbishop and the +treasurer, for whose heads the people had cried out loudly the day before. He +and his men even thrust their swords into the bed of the Princess of Wales +while the Princess was in it, to make certain that none of their enemies were +concealed there. +</p> + +<p> +So, Wat and his men still continued armed, and rode about the city. Next +morning, the King with a small train of some sixty gentlemen—among whom +was <span class="smcap">Walworth</span> the Mayor—rode into Smithfield, +and saw Wat and his people at a little distance. Says Wat to his men, +‘There is the King. I will go speak with him, and tell him what we +want.’ +</p> + +<p> +Straightway Wat rode up to him, and began to talk. ‘King,’ says +Wat, ‘dost thou see all my men there?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Ah,’ says the King. ‘Why?’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Because,’ says Wat, ‘they are all at my command, and have +sworn to do whatever I bid them.’ +</p> + +<p> +Some declared afterwards that as Wat said this, he laid his hand on the +King’s bridle. Others declared that he was seen to play with his own +dagger. I think, myself, that he just spoke to the King like a rough, angry man +as he was, and did nothing more. At any rate he was expecting no attack, and +preparing for no resistance, when Walworth the Mayor did the not very valiant +deed of drawing a short sword and stabbing him in the throat. He dropped from +his horse, and one of the King’s people speedily finished him. So fell +Wat Tyler. Fawners and flatterers made a mighty triumph of it, and set up a cry +which will occasionally find an echo to this day. But Wat was a hard-working +man, who had suffered much, and had been foully outraged; and it is probable +that he was a man of a much higher nature and a much braver spirit than any of +the parasites who exulted then, or have exulted since, over his defeat. +</p> + +<p> +Seeing Wat down, his men immediately bent their bows to avenge his fall. If the +young King had not had presence of mind at that dangerous moment, both he and +the Mayor to boot, might have followed Tyler pretty fast. But the King riding +up to the crowd, cried out that Tyler was a traitor, and that he would be their +leader. They were so taken by surprise, that they set up a great shouting, and +followed the boy until he was met at Islington by a large body of soldiers. +</p> + +<p> +The end of this rising was the then usual end. As soon as the King found +himself safe, he unsaid all he had said, and undid all he had done; some +fifteen hundred of the rioters were tried (mostly in Essex) with great rigour, +and executed with great cruelty. Many of them were hanged on gibbets, and left +there as a terror to the country people; and, because their miserable friends +took some of the bodies down to bury, the King ordered the rest to be chained +up—which was the beginning of the barbarous custom of hanging in chains. +The King’s falsehood in this business makes such a pitiful figure, that I +think Wat Tyler appears in history as beyond comparison the truer and more +respectable man of the two. +</p> + +<p> +Richard was now sixteen years of age, and married Anne of Bohemia, an excellent +princess, who was called ‘the good Queen Anne.’ She deserved a +better husband; for the King had been fawned and flattered into a treacherous, +wasteful, dissolute, bad young man. +</p> + +<p> +There were two Popes at this time (as if one were not enough!), and their +quarrels involved Europe in a great deal of trouble. Scotland was still +troublesome too; and at home there was much jealousy and distrust, and plotting +and counter-plotting, because the King feared the ambition of his relations, +and particularly of his uncle, the Duke of Lancaster, and the duke had his +party against the King, and the King had his party against the duke. Nor were +these home troubles lessened when the duke went to Castile to urge his claim to +the crown of that kingdom; for then the Duke of Gloucester, another of +Richard’s uncles, opposed him, and influenced the Parliament to demand +the dismissal of the King’s favourite ministers. The King said in reply, +that he would not for such men dismiss the meanest servant in his kitchen. But, +it had begun to signify little what a King said when a Parliament was +determined; so Richard was at last obliged to give way, and to agree to another +Government of the kingdom, under a commission of fourteen nobles, for a year. +His uncle of Gloucester was at the head of this commission, and, in fact, +appointed everybody composing it. +</p> + +<p> +Having done all this, the King declared as soon as he saw an opportunity that +he had never meant to do it, and that it was all illegal; and he got the judges +secretly to sign a declaration to that effect. The secret oozed out directly, +and was carried to the Duke of Gloucester. The Duke of Gloucester, at the head +of forty thousand men, met the King on his entering into London to enforce his +authority; the King was helpless against him; his favourites and ministers were +impeached and were mercilessly executed. Among them were two men whom the +people regarded with very different feelings; one, Robert Tresilian, Chief +Justice, who was hated for having made what was called ‘the bloody +circuit’ to try the rioters; the other, Sir Simon Burley, an honourable +knight, who had been the dear friend of the Black Prince, and the governor and +guardian of the King. For this gentleman’s life the good Queen even +begged of Gloucester on her knees; but Gloucester (with or without reason) +feared and hated him, and replied, that if she valued her husband’s +crown, she had better beg no more. All this was done under what was called by +some the wonderful—and by others, with better reason, the +merciless—Parliament. +</p> + +<p> +But Gloucester’s power was not to last for ever. He held it for only a +year longer; in which year the famous battle of Otterbourne, sung in the old +ballad of Chevy Chase, was fought. When the year was out, the King, turning +suddenly to Gloucester, in the midst of a great council said, ‘Uncle, how +old am I?’ ‘Your highness,’ returned the Duke, ‘is in +your twenty-second year.’ ‘Am I so much?’ said the King; +‘then I will manage my own affairs! I am much obliged to you, my good +lords, for your past services, but I need them no more.’ He followed this +up, by appointing a new Chancellor and a new Treasurer, and announced to the +people that he had resumed the Government. He held it for eight years without +opposition. Through all that time, he kept his determination to revenge himself +some day upon his uncle Gloucester, in his own breast. +</p> + +<p> +At last the good Queen died, and then the King, desiring to take a second wife, +proposed to his council that he should marry Isabella, of France, the daughter +of Charles the Sixth: who, the French courtiers said (as the English courtiers +had said of Richard), was a marvel of beauty and wit, and quite a +phenomenon—of seven years old. The council were divided about this +marriage, but it took place. It secured peace between England and France for a +quarter of a century; but it was strongly opposed to the prejudices of the +English people. The Duke of Gloucester, who was anxious to take the occasion of +making himself popular, declaimed against it loudly, and this at length decided +the King to execute the vengeance he had been nursing so long. +</p> + +<p> +He went with a gay company to the Duke of Gloucester’s house, Pleshey +Castle, in Essex, where the Duke, suspecting nothing, came out into the +court-yard to receive his royal visitor. While the King conversed in a friendly +manner with the Duchess, the Duke was quietly seized, hurried away, shipped for +Calais, and lodged in the castle there. His friends, the Earls of Arundel and +Warwick, were taken in the same treacherous manner, and confined to their +castles. A few days after, at Nottingham, they were impeached of high treason. +The Earl of Arundel was condemned and beheaded, and the Earl of Warwick was +banished. Then, a writ was sent by a messenger to the Governor of Calais, +requiring him to send the Duke of Gloucester over to be tried. In three days he +returned an answer that he could not do that, because the Duke of Gloucester +had died in prison. The Duke was declared a traitor, his property was +confiscated to the King, a real or pretended confession he had made in prison +to one of the Justices of the Common Pleas was produced against him, and there +was an end of the matter. How the unfortunate duke died, very few cared to +know. Whether he really died naturally; whether he killed himself; whether, by +the King’s order, he was strangled, or smothered between two beds (as a +serving-man of the Governor’s named Hall, did afterwards declare), cannot +be discovered. There is not much doubt that he was killed, somehow or other, by +his nephew’s orders. Among the most active nobles in these proceedings +were the King’s cousin, Henry Bolingbroke, whom the King had made Duke of +Hereford to smooth down the old family quarrels, and some others: who had in +the family-plotting times done just such acts themselves as they now condemned +in the duke. They seem to have been a corrupt set of men; but such men were +easily found about the court in such days. +</p> + +<p> +The people murmured at all this, and were still very sore about the French +marriage. The nobles saw how little the King cared for law, and how crafty he +was, and began to be somewhat afraid for themselves. The King’s life was +a life of continued feasting and excess; his retinue, down to the meanest +servants, were dressed in the most costly manner, and caroused at his tables, +it is related, to the number of ten thousand persons every day. He himself, +surrounded by a body of ten thousand archers, and enriched by a duty on wool +which the Commons had granted him for life, saw no danger of ever being +otherwise than powerful and absolute, and was as fierce and haughty as a King +could be. +</p> + +<p> +He had two of his old enemies left, in the persons of the Dukes of Hereford and +Norfolk. Sparing these no more than the others, he tampered with the Duke of +Hereford until he got him to declare before the Council that the Duke of +Norfolk had lately held some treasonable talk with him, as he was riding near +Brentford; and that he had told him, among other things, that he could not +believe the King’s oath—which nobody could, I should think. For +this treachery he obtained a pardon, and the Duke of Norfolk was summoned to +appear and defend himself. As he denied the charge and said his accuser was a +liar and a traitor, both noblemen, according to the manner of those times, were +held in custody, and the truth was ordered to be decided by wager of battle at +Coventry. This wager of battle meant that whosoever won the combat was to be +considered in the right; which nonsense meant in effect, that no strong man +could ever be wrong. A great holiday was made; a great crowd assembled, with +much parade and show; and the two combatants were about to rush at each other +with their lances, when the King, sitting in a pavilion to see fair, threw down +the truncheon he carried in his hand, and forbade the battle. The Duke of +Hereford was to be banished for ten years, and the Duke of Norfolk was to be +banished for life. So said the King. The Duke of Hereford went to France, and +went no farther. The Duke of Norfolk made a pilgrimage to the Holy Land, and +afterwards died at Venice of a broken heart. +</p> + +<p> +Faster and fiercer, after this, the King went on in his career. The Duke of +Lancaster, who was the father of the Duke of Hereford, died soon after the +departure of his son; and, the King, although he had solemnly granted to that +son leave to inherit his father’s property, if it should come to him +during his banishment, immediately seized it all, like a robber. The judges +were so afraid of him, that they disgraced themselves by declaring this theft +to be just and lawful. His avarice knew no bounds. He outlawed seventeen +counties at once, on a frivolous pretence, merely to raise money by way of +fines for misconduct. In short, he did as many dishonest things as he could; +and cared so little for the discontent of his subjects—though even the +spaniel favourites began to whisper to him that there was such a thing as +discontent afloat—that he took that time, of all others, for leaving +England and making an expedition against the Irish. +</p> + +<p> +He was scarcely gone, leaving the <span class="smcap">Duke of York</span> +Regent in his absence, when his cousin, Henry of Hereford, came over from +France to claim the rights of which he had been so monstrously deprived. He was +immediately joined by the two great Earls of Northumberland and Westmoreland; +and his uncle, the Regent, finding the King’s cause unpopular, and the +disinclination of the army to act against Henry, very strong, withdrew with the +Royal forces towards Bristol. Henry, at the head of an army, came from +Yorkshire (where he had landed) to London and followed him. They joined their +forces—how they brought that about, is not distinctly +understood—and proceeded to Bristol Castle, whither three noblemen had +taken the young Queen. The castle surrendering, they presently put those three +noblemen to death. The Regent then remained there, and Henry went on to +Chester. +</p> + +<p> +All this time, the boisterous weather had prevented the King from receiving +intelligence of what had occurred. At length it was conveyed to him in Ireland, +and he sent over the <span class="smcap">Earl of Salisbury</span>, who, landing +at Conway, rallied the Welshmen, and waited for the King a whole fortnight; at +the end of that time the Welshmen, who were perhaps not very warm for him in +the beginning, quite cooled down and went home. When the King did land on the +coast at last, he came with a pretty good power, but his men cared nothing for +him, and quickly deserted. Supposing the Welshmen to be still at Conway, he +disguised himself as a priest, and made for that place in company with his two +brothers and some few of their adherents. But, there were no Welshmen +left—only Salisbury and a hundred soldiers. In this distress, the +King’s two brothers, Exeter and Surrey, offered to go to Henry to learn +what his intentions were. Surrey, who was true to Richard, was put into prison. +Exeter, who was false, took the royal badge, which was a hart, off his shield, +and assumed the rose, the badge of Henry. After this, it was pretty plain to +the King what Henry’s intentions were, without sending any more +messengers to ask. +</p> + +<p> +The fallen King, thus deserted—hemmed in on all sides, and pressed with +hunger—rode here and rode there, and went to this castle, and went to +that castle, endeavouring to obtain some provisions, but could find none. He +rode wretchedly back to Conway, and there surrendered himself to the Earl of +Northumberland, who came from Henry, in reality to take him prisoner, but in +appearance to offer terms; and whose men were hidden not far off. By this earl +he was conducted to the castle of Flint, where his cousin Henry met him, and +dropped on his knee as if he were still respectful to his sovereign. +</p> + +<p> +‘Fair cousin of Lancaster,’ said the King, ‘you are very +welcome’ (very welcome, no doubt; but he would have been more so, in +chains or without a head). +</p> + +<p> +‘My lord,’ replied Henry, ‘I am come a little before my time; +but, with your good pleasure, I will show you the reason. Your people complain +with some bitterness, that you have ruled them rigorously for two-and-twenty +years. Now, if it please God, I will help you to govern them better in +future.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘Fair cousin,’ replied the abject King, ‘since it pleaseth +you, it pleaseth me mightily.’ +</p> + +<p> +After this, the trumpets sounded, and the King was stuck on a wretched horse, +and carried prisoner to Chester, where he was made to issue a proclamation, +calling a Parliament. From Chester he was taken on towards London. At Lichfield +he tried to escape by getting out of a window and letting himself down into a +garden; it was all in vain, however, and he was carried on and shut up in the +Tower, where no one pitied him, and where the whole people, whose patience he +had quite tired out, reproached him without mercy. Before he got there, it is +related, that his very dog left him and departed from his side to lick the hand +of Henry. +</p> + +<p> +The day before the Parliament met, a deputation went to this wrecked King, and +told him that he had promised the Earl of Northumberland at Conway Castle to +resign the crown. He said he was quite ready to do it, and signed a paper in +which he renounced his authority and absolved his people from their allegiance +to him. He had so little spirit left that he gave his royal ring to his +triumphant cousin Henry with his own hand, and said, that if he could have had +leave to appoint a successor, that same Henry was the man of all others whom he +would have named. Next day, the Parliament assembled in Westminster Hall, where +Henry sat at the side of the throne, which was empty and covered with a cloth +of gold. The paper just signed by the King was read to the multitude amid +shouts of joy, which were echoed through all the streets; when some of the +noise had died away, the King was formally deposed. Then Henry arose, and, +making the sign of the cross on his forehead and breast, challenged the realm +of England as his right; the archbishops of Canterbury and York seated him on +the throne. +</p> + +<p> +The multitude shouted again, and the shouts re-echoed throughout all the +streets. No one remembered, now, that Richard the Second had ever been the most +beautiful, the wisest, and the best of princes; and he now made living (to my +thinking) a far more sorry spectacle in the Tower of London, than Wat Tyler had +made, lying dead, among the hoofs of the royal horses in Smithfield. +</p> + +<p> +The Poll-tax died with Wat. The Smiths to the King and Royal Family, could make +no chains in which the King could hang the people’s recollection of him; +so the Poll-tax was never collected. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap20"></a>CHAPTER XX<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FOURTH, CALLED BOLINGBROKE</h2> + +<p> +During the last reign, the preaching of Wickliffe against the pride and cunning +of the Pope and all his men, had made a great noise in England. Whether the new +King wished to be in favour with the priests, or whether he hoped, by +pretending to be very religious, to cheat Heaven itself into the belief that he +was not a usurper, I don’t know. Both suppositions are likely enough. It +is certain that he began his reign by making a strong show against the +followers of Wickliffe, who were called Lollards, or heretics—although +his father, John of Gaunt, had been of that way of thinking, as he himself had +been more than suspected of being. It is no less certain that he first +established in England the detestable and atrocious custom, brought from +abroad, of burning those people as a punishment for their opinions. It was the +importation into England of one of the practices of what was called the Holy +Inquisition: which was the most <i>un</i>holy and the most infamous tribunal +that ever disgraced mankind, and made men more like demons than followers of +Our Saviour. +</p> + +<p> +No real right to the crown, as you know, was in this King. Edward Mortimer, the +young Earl of March—who was only eight or nine years old, and who was +descended from the Duke of Clarence, the elder brother of Henry’s +father—was, by succession, the real heir to the throne. However, the King +got his son declared Prince of Wales; and, obtaining possession of the young +Earl of March and his little brother, kept them in confinement (but not +severely) in Windsor Castle. He then required the Parliament to decide what was +to be done with the deposed King, who was quiet enough, and who only said that +he hoped his cousin Henry would be ‘a good lord’ to him. The +Parliament replied that they would recommend his being kept in some secret +place where the people could not resort, and where his friends could not be +admitted to see him. Henry accordingly passed this sentence upon him, and it +now began to be pretty clear to the nation that Richard the Second would not +live very long. +</p> + +<p> +It was a noisy Parliament, as it was an unprincipled one, and the Lords +quarrelled so violently among themselves as to which of them had been loyal and +which disloyal, and which consistent and which inconsistent, that forty +gauntlets are said to have been thrown upon the floor at one time as challenges +to as many battles: the truth being that they were all false and base together, +and had been, at one time with the old King, and at another time with the new +one, and seldom true for any length of time to any one. They soon began to plot +again. A conspiracy was formed to invite the King to a tournament at Oxford, +and then to take him by surprise and kill him. This murderous enterprise, which +was agreed upon at secret meetings in the house of the Abbot of Westminster, +was betrayed by the Earl of Rutland—one of the conspirators. The King, +instead of going to the tournament or staying at Windsor (where the +conspirators suddenly went, on finding themselves discovered, with the hope of +seizing him), retired to London, proclaimed them all traitors, and advanced +upon them with a great force. They retired into the west of England, +proclaiming Richard King; but, the people rose against them, and they were all +slain. Their treason hastened the death of the deposed monarch. Whether he was +killed by hired assassins, or whether he was starved to death, or whether he +refused food on hearing of his brothers being killed (who were in that plot), +is very doubtful. He met his death somehow; and his body was publicly shown at +St. Paul’s Cathedral with only the lower part of the face uncovered. I +can scarcely doubt that he was killed by the King’s orders. +</p> + +<p> +The French wife of the miserable Richard was now only ten years old; and, when +her father, Charles of France, heard of her misfortunes and of her lonely +condition in England, he went mad: as he had several times done before, during +the last five or six years. The French Dukes of Burgundy and Bourbon took up +the poor girl’s cause, without caring much about it, but on the chance of +getting something out of England. The people of Bordeaux, who had a sort of +superstitious attachment to the memory of Richard, because he was born there, +swore by the Lord that he had been the best man in all his kingdom—which +was going rather far—and promised to do great things against the English. +Nevertheless, when they came to consider that they, and the whole people of +France, were ruined by their own nobles, and that the English rule was much the +better of the two, they cooled down again; and the two dukes, although they +were very great men, could do nothing without them. Then, began negotiations +between France and England for the sending home to Paris of the poor little +Queen with all her jewels and her fortune of two hundred thousand francs in +gold. The King was quite willing to restore the young lady, and even the +jewels; but he said he really could not part with the money. So, at last she +was safely deposited at Paris without her fortune, and then the Duke of +Burgundy (who was cousin to the French King) began to quarrel with the Duke of +Orleans (who was brother to the French King) about the whole matter; and those +two dukes made France even more wretched than ever. +</p> + +<p> +As the idea of conquering Scotland was still popular at home, the King marched +to the river Tyne and demanded homage of the King of that country. This being +refused, he advanced to Edinburgh, but did little there; for, his army being in +want of provisions, and the Scotch being very careful to hold him in check +without giving battle, he was obliged to retire. It is to his immortal honour +that in this sally he burnt no villages and slaughtered no people, but was +particularly careful that his army should be merciful and harmless. It was a +great example in those ruthless times. +</p> + +<p> +A war among the border people of England and Scotland went on for twelve +months, and then the Earl of Northumberland, the nobleman who had helped Henry +to the crown, began to rebel against him—probably because nothing that +Henry could do for him would satisfy his extravagant expectations. There was a +certain Welsh gentleman, named <span class="smcap">Owen Glendower</span>, who +had been a student in one of the Inns of Court, and had afterwards been in the +service of the late King, whose Welsh property was taken from him by a powerful +lord related to the present King, who was his neighbour. Appealing for redress, +and getting none, he took up arms, was made an outlaw, and declared himself +sovereign of Wales. He pretended to be a magician; and not only were the Welsh +people stupid enough to believe him, but, even Henry believed him too; for, +making three expeditions into Wales, and being three times driven back by the +wildness of the country, the bad weather, and the skill of Glendower, he +thought he was defeated by the Welshman’s magic arts. However, he took +Lord Grey and Sir Edmund Mortimer, prisoners, and allowed the relatives of Lord +Grey to ransom him, but would not extend such favour to Sir Edmund Mortimer. +Now, Henry Percy, called <span class="smcap">Hotspur</span>, son of the Earl of +Northumberland, who was married to Mortimer’s sister, is supposed to have +taken offence at this; and, therefore, in conjunction with his father and some +others, to have joined Owen Glendower, and risen against Henry. It is by no +means clear that this was the real cause of the conspiracy; but perhaps it was +made the pretext. It was formed, and was very powerful; including <span +class="smcap">Scroop</span>, Archbishop of York, and the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Douglas</span>, a powerful and brave Scottish nobleman. +The King was prompt and active, and the two armies met at Shrewsbury. +</p> + +<p> +There were about fourteen thousand men in each. The old Earl of Northumberland +being sick, the rebel forces were led by his son. The King wore plain armour to +deceive the enemy; and four noblemen, with the same object, wore the royal +arms. The rebel charge was so furious, that every one of those gentlemen was +killed, the royal standard was beaten down, and the young Prince of Wales was +severely wounded in the face. But he was one of the bravest and best soldiers +that ever lived, and he fought so well, and the King’s troops were so +encouraged by his bold example, that they rallied immediately, and cut the +enemy’s forces all to pieces. Hotspur was killed by an arrow in the +brain, and the rout was so complete that the whole rebellion was struck down by +this one blow. The Earl of Northumberland surrendered himself soon after +hearing of the death of his son, and received a pardon for all his offences. +</p> + +<p> +There were some lingerings of rebellion yet: Owen Glendower being retired to +Wales, and a preposterous story being spread among the ignorant people that +King Richard was still alive. How they could have believed such nonsense it is +difficult to imagine; but they certainly did suppose that the Court fool of the +late King, who was something like him, was he, himself; so that it seemed as +if, after giving so much trouble to the country in his life, he was still to +trouble it after his death. This was not the worst. The young Earl of March and +his brother were stolen out of Windsor Castle. Being retaken, and being found +to have been spirited away by one Lady Spencer, she accused her own brother, +that Earl of Rutland who was in the former conspiracy and was now Duke of York, +of being in the plot. For this he was ruined in fortune, though not put to +death; and then another plot arose among the old Earl of Northumberland, some +other lords, and that same Scroop, Archbishop of York, who was with the rebels +before. These conspirators caused a writing to be posted on the church doors, +accusing the King of a variety of crimes; but, the King being eager and +vigilant to oppose them, they were all taken, and the Archbishop was executed. +This was the first time that a great churchman had been slain by the law in +England; but the King was resolved that it should be done, and done it was. +</p> + +<p> +The next most remarkable event of this time was the seizure, by Henry, of the +heir to the Scottish throne—James, a boy of nine years old. He had been +put aboard-ship by his father, the Scottish King Robert, to save him from the +designs of his uncle, when, on his way to France, he was accidentally taken by +some English cruisers. He remained a prisoner in England for nineteen years, +and became in his prison a student and a famous poet. +</p> + +<p> +With the exception of occasional troubles with the Welsh and with the French, +the rest of King Henry’s reign was quiet enough. But, the King was far +from happy, and probably was troubled in his conscience by knowing that he had +usurped the crown, and had occasioned the death of his miserable cousin. The +Prince of Wales, though brave and generous, is said to have been wild and +dissipated, and even to have drawn his sword on <span +class="smcap">Gascoigne</span>, the Chief Justice of the King’s Bench, +because he was firm in dealing impartially with one of his dissolute +companions. Upon this the Chief Justice is said to have ordered him immediately +to prison; the Prince of Wales is said to have submitted with a good grace; and +the King is said to have exclaimed, ‘Happy is the monarch who has so just +a judge, and a son so willing to obey the laws.’ This is all very +doubtful, and so is another story (of which Shakespeare has made beautiful +use), that the Prince once took the crown out of his father’s chamber as +he was sleeping, and tried it on his own head. +</p> + +<p> +The King’s health sank more and more, and he became subject to violent +eruptions on the face and to bad epileptic fits, and his spirits sank every +day. At last, as he was praying before the shrine of St. Edward at Westminster +Abbey, he was seized with a terrible fit, and was carried into the +Abbot’s chamber, where he presently died. It had been foretold that he +would die at Jerusalem, which certainly is not, and never was, Westminster. +But, as the Abbot’s room had long been called the Jerusalem chamber, +people said it was all the same thing, and were quite satisfied with the +prediction. +</p> + +<p> +The King died on the 20th of March, 1413, in the forty-seventh year of his age, +and the fourteenth of his reign. He was buried in Canterbury Cathedral. He had +been twice married, and had, by his first wife, a family of four sons and two +daughters. Considering his duplicity before he came to the throne, his unjust +seizure of it, and above all, his making that monstrous law for the burning of +what the priests called heretics, he was a reasonably good king, as kings went. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap21"></a>CHAPTER XXI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE FIFTH</h2> + +<h3>FIRST PART</h3> + +<p> +The Prince of Wales began his reign like a generous and honest man. He set the +young Earl of March free; he restored their estates and their honours to the +Percy family, who had lost them by their rebellion against his father; he +ordered the imbecile and unfortunate Richard to be honourably buried among the +Kings of England; and he dismissed all his wild companions, with assurances +that they should not want, if they would resolve to be steady, faithful, and +true. +</p> + +<p> +It is much easier to burn men than to burn their opinions; and those of the +Lollards were spreading every day. The Lollards were represented by the +priests—probably falsely for the most part—to entertain treasonable +designs against the new King; and Henry, suffering himself to be worked upon by +these representations, sacrificed his friend Sir John Oldcastle, the Lord +Cobham, to them, after trying in vain to convert him by arguments. He was +declared guilty, as the head of the sect, and sentenced to the flames; but he +escaped from the Tower before the day of execution (postponed for fifty days by +the King himself), and summoned the Lollards to meet him near London on a +certain day. So the priests told the King, at least. I doubt whether there was +any conspiracy beyond such as was got up by their agents. On the day appointed, +instead of five-and-twenty thousand men, under the command of Sir John +Oldcastle, in the meadows of St. Giles, the King found only eighty men, and no +Sir John at all. There was, in another place, an addle-headed brewer, who had +gold trappings to his horses, and a pair of gilt spurs in his +breast—expecting to be made a knight next day by Sir John, and so to gain +the right to wear them—but there was no Sir John, nor did anybody give +information respecting him, though the King offered great rewards for such +intelligence. Thirty of these unfortunate Lollards were hanged and drawn +immediately, and were then burnt, gallows and all; and the various prisons in +and around London were crammed full of others. Some of these unfortunate men +made various confessions of treasonable designs; but, such confessions were +easily got, under torture and the fear of fire, and are very little to be +trusted. To finish the sad story of Sir John Oldcastle at once, I may mention +that he escaped into Wales, and remained there safely, for four years. When +discovered by Lord Powis, it is very doubtful if he would have been taken +alive—so great was the old soldier’s bravery—if a miserable +old woman had not come behind him and broken his legs with a stool. He was +carried to London in a horse-litter, was fastened by an iron chain to a gibbet, +and so roasted to death. +</p> + +<p> +To make the state of France as plain as I can in a few words, I should tell you +that the Duke of Orleans, and the Duke of Burgundy, commonly called ‘John +without fear,’ had had a grand reconciliation of their quarrel in the +last reign, and had appeared to be quite in a heavenly state of mind. +Immediately after which, on a Sunday, in the public streets of Paris, the Duke +of Orleans was murdered by a party of twenty men, set on by the Duke of +Burgundy—according to his own deliberate confession. The widow of King +Richard had been married in France to the eldest son of the Duke of Orleans. +The poor mad King was quite powerless to help her, and the Duke of Burgundy +became the real master of France. Isabella dying, her husband (Duke of Orleans +since the death of his father) married the daughter of the Count of Armagnac, +who, being a much abler man than his young son-in-law, headed his party; thence +called after him Armagnacs. Thus, France was now in this terrible condition, +that it had in it the party of the King’s son, the Dauphin Louis; the +party of the Duke of Burgundy, who was the father of the Dauphin’s +ill-used wife; and the party of the Armagnacs; all hating each other; all +fighting together; all composed of the most depraved nobles that the earth has +ever known; and all tearing unhappy France to pieces. +</p> + +<p> +The late King had watched these dissensions from England, sensible (like the +French people) that no enemy of France could injure her more than her own +nobility. The present King now advanced a claim to the French throne. His +demand being, of course, refused, he reduced his proposal to a certain large +amount of French territory, and to demanding the French princess, Catherine, in +marriage, with a fortune of two millions of golden crowns. He was offered less +territory and fewer crowns, and no princess; but he called his ambassadors home +and prepared for war. Then, he proposed to take the princess with one million +of crowns. The French Court replied that he should have the princess with two +hundred thousand crowns less; he said this would not do (he had never seen the +princess in his life), and assembled his army at Southampton. There was a short +plot at home just at that time, for deposing him, and making the Earl of March +king; but the conspirators were all speedily condemned and executed, and the +King embarked for France. +</p> + +<p> +It is dreadful to observe how long a bad example will be followed; but, it is +encouraging to know that a good example is never thrown away. The King’s +first act on disembarking at the mouth of the river Seine, three miles from +Harfleur, was to imitate his father, and to proclaim his solemn orders that the +lives and property of the peaceable inhabitants should be respected on pain of +death. It is agreed by French writers, to his lasting renown, that even while +his soldiers were suffering the greatest distress from want of food, these +commands were rigidly obeyed. +</p> + +<p> +With an army in all of thirty thousand men, he besieged the town of Harfleur +both by sea and land for five weeks; at the end of which time the town +surrendered, and the inhabitants were allowed to depart with only fivepence +each, and a part of their clothes. All the rest of their possessions was +divided amongst the English army. But, that army suffered so much, in spite of +its successes, from disease and privation, that it was already reduced one +half. Still, the King was determined not to retire until he had struck a +greater blow. Therefore, against the advice of all his counsellors, he moved on +with his little force towards Calais. When he came up to the river Somme he was +unable to cross, in consequence of the fort being fortified; and, as the +English moved up the left bank of the river looking for a crossing, the French, +who had broken all the bridges, moved up the right bank, watching them, and +waiting to attack them when they should try to pass it. At last the English +found a crossing and got safely over. The French held a council of war at +Rouen, resolved to give the English battle, and sent heralds to King Henry to +know by which road he was going. ‘By the road that will take me straight +to Calais!’ said the King, and sent them away with a present of a hundred +crowns. +</p> + +<p> +The English moved on, until they beheld the French, and then the King gave +orders to form in line of battle. The French not coming on, the army broke up +after remaining in battle array till night, and got good rest and refreshment +at a neighbouring village. The French were now all lying in another village, +through which they knew the English must pass. They were resolved that the +English should begin the battle. The English had no means of retreat, if their +King had any such intention; and so the two armies passed the night, close +together. +</p> + +<p> +To understand these armies well, you must bear in mind that the immense French +army had, among its notable persons, almost the whole of that wicked nobility, +whose debauchery had made France a desert; and so besotted were they by pride, +and by contempt for the common people, that they had scarcely any bowmen (if +indeed they had any at all) in their whole enormous number: which, compared +with the English army, was at least as six to one. For these proud fools had +said that the bow was not a fit weapon for knightly hands, and that France must +be defended by gentlemen only. We shall see, presently, what hand the gentlemen +made of it. +</p> + +<p> +Now, on the English side, among the little force, there was a good proportion +of men who were not gentlemen by any means, but who were good stout archers for +all that. Among them, in the morning—having slept little at night, while +the French were carousing and making sure of victory—the King rode, on a +grey horse; wearing on his head a helmet of shining steel, surmounted by a +crown of gold, sparkling with precious stones; and bearing over his armour, +embroidered together, the arms of England and the arms of France. The archers +looked at the shining helmet and the crown of gold and the sparkling jewels, +and admired them all; but, what they admired most was the King’s cheerful +face, and his bright blue eye, as he told them that, for himself, he had made +up his mind to conquer there or to die there, and that England should never +have a ransom to pay for <i>him</i>. There was one brave knight who chanced to +say that he wished some of the many gallant gentlemen and good soldiers, who +were then idle at home in England, were there to increase their numbers. But +the King told him that, for his part, he did not wish for one more man. +‘The fewer we have,’ said he, ‘the greater will be the honour +we shall win!’ His men, being now all in good heart, were refreshed with +bread and wine, and heard prayers, and waited quietly for the French. The King +waited for the French, because they were drawn up thirty deep (the little +English force was only three deep), on very difficult and heavy ground; and he +knew that when they moved, there must be confusion among them. +</p> + +<p> +As they did not move, he sent off two parties:—one to lie concealed in a +wood on the left of the French: the other, to set fire to some houses behind +the French after the battle should be begun. This was scarcely done, when three +of the proud French gentlemen, who were to defend their country without any +help from the base peasants, came riding out, calling upon the English to +surrender. The King warned those gentlemen himself to retire with all speed if +they cared for their lives, and ordered the English banners to advance. Upon +that, Sir Thomas Erpingham, a great English general, who commanded the archers, +threw his truncheon into the air, joyfully, and all the English men, kneeling +down upon the ground and biting it as if they took possession of the country, +rose up with a great shout and fell upon the French. +</p> + +<p> +Every archer was furnished with a great stake tipped with iron; and his orders +were, to thrust this stake into the ground, to discharge his arrow, and then to +fall back, when the French horsemen came on. As the haughty French gentlemen, +who were to break the English archers and utterly destroy them with their +knightly lances, came riding up, they were received with such a blinding storm +of arrows, that they broke and turned. Horses and men rolled over one another, +and the confusion was terrific. Those who rallied and charged the archers got +among the stakes on slippery and boggy ground, and were so bewildered that the +English archers—who wore no armour, and even took off their leathern +coats to be more active—cut them to pieces, root and branch. Only three +French horsemen got within the stakes, and those were instantly despatched. All +this time the dense French army, being in armour, were sinking knee-deep into +the mire; while the light English archers, half-naked, were as fresh and active +as if they were fighting on a marble floor. +</p> + +<p> +But now, the second division of the French coming to the relief of the first, +closed up in a firm mass; the English, headed by the King, attacked them; and +the deadliest part of the battle began. The King’s brother, the Duke of +Clarence, was struck down, and numbers of the French surrounded him; but, King +Henry, standing over the body, fought like a lion until they were beaten off. +</p> + +<p> +Presently, came up a band of eighteen French knights, bearing the banner of a +certain French lord, who had sworn to kill or take the English King. One of +them struck him such a blow with a battle-axe that he reeled and fell upon his +knees; but, his faithful men, immediately closing round him, killed every one +of those eighteen knights, and so that French lord never kept his oath. +</p> + +<p> +The French Duke of Alençon, seeing this, made a desperate charge, and +cut his way close up to the Royal Standard of England. He beat down the Duke of +York, who was standing near it; and, when the King came to his rescue, struck +off a piece of the crown he wore. But, he never struck another blow in this +world; for, even as he was in the act of saying who he was, and that he +surrendered to the King; and even as the King stretched out his hand to give +him a safe and honourable acceptance of the offer; he fell dead, pierced by +innumerable wounds. +</p> + +<p> +The death of this nobleman decided the battle. The third division of the French +army, which had never struck a blow yet, and which was, in itself, more than +double the whole English power, broke and fled. At this time of the fight, the +English, who as yet had made no prisoners, began to take them in immense +numbers, and were still occupied in doing so, or in killing those who would not +surrender, when a great noise arose in the rear of the French—their +flying banners were seen to stop—and King Henry, supposing a great +reinforcement to have arrived, gave orders that all the prisoners should be put +to death. As soon, however, as it was found that the noise was only occasioned +by a body of plundering peasants, the terrible massacre was stopped. +</p> + +<p> +Then King Henry called to him the French herald, and asked him to whom the +victory belonged. +</p> + +<p> +The herald replied, ‘To the King of England.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘<i>We</i> have not made this havoc and slaughter,’ said the King. +‘It is the wrath of Heaven on the sins of France. What is the name of +that castle yonder?’ +</p> + +<p> +The herald answered him, ‘My lord, it is the castle of Azincourt.’ +Said the King, ‘From henceforth this battle shall be known to posterity, +by the name of the battle of Azincourt.’ +</p> + +<p> +Our English historians have made it Agincourt; but, under that name, it will +ever be famous in English annals. +</p> + +<p> +The loss upon the French side was enormous. Three Dukes were killed, two more +were taken prisoners, seven Counts were killed, three more were taken +prisoners, and ten thousand knights and gentlemen were slain upon the field. +The English loss amounted to sixteen hundred men, among whom were the Duke of +York and the Earl of Suffolk. +</p> + +<p> +War is a dreadful thing; and it is appalling to know how the English were +obliged, next morning, to kill those prisoners mortally wounded, who yet +writhed in agony upon the ground; how the dead upon the French side were +stripped by their own countrymen and countrywomen, and afterwards buried in +great pits; how the dead upon the English side were piled up in a great barn, +and how their bodies and the barn were all burned together. It is in such +things, and in many more much too horrible to relate, that the real desolation +and wickedness of war consist. Nothing can make war otherwise than horrible. +But the dark side of it was little thought of and soon forgotten; and it cast +no shade of trouble on the English people, except on those who had lost friends +or relations in the fight. They welcomed their King home with shouts of +rejoicing, and plunged into the water to bear him ashore on their shoulders, +and flocked out in crowds to welcome him in every town through which he passed, +and hung rich carpets and tapestries out of the windows, and strewed the +streets with flowers, and made the fountains run with wine, as the great field +of Agincourt had run with blood. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +That proud and wicked French nobility who dragged their country to destruction, +and who were every day and every year regarded with deeper hatred and +detestation in the hearts of the French people, learnt nothing, even from the +defeat of Agincourt. So far from uniting against the common enemy, they became, +among themselves, more violent, more bloody, and more false—if that were +possible—than they had been before. The Count of Armagnac persuaded the +French king to plunder of her treasures Queen Isabella of Bavaria, and to make +her a prisoner. She, who had hitherto been the bitter enemy of the Duke of +Burgundy, proposed to join him, in revenge. He carried her off to Troyes, where +she proclaimed herself Regent of France, and made him her lieutenant. The +Armagnac party were at that time possessed of Paris; but, one of the gates of +the city being secretly opened on a certain night to a party of the +duke’s men, they got into Paris, threw into the prisons all the Armagnacs +upon whom they could lay their hands, and, a few nights afterwards, with the +aid of a furious mob of sixty thousand people, broke the prisons open, and +killed them all. The former Dauphin was now dead, and the King’s third +son bore the title. Him, in the height of this murderous scene, a French knight +hurried out of bed, wrapped in a sheet, and bore away to Poitiers. So, when the +revengeful Isabella and the Duke of Burgundy entered Paris in triumph after the +slaughter of their enemies, the Dauphin was proclaimed at Poitiers as the real +Regent. +</p> + +<p> +King Henry had not been idle since his victory of Agincourt, but had repulsed a +brave attempt of the French to recover Harfleur; had gradually conquered a +great part of Normandy; and, at this crisis of affairs, took the important town +of Rouen, after a siege of half a year. This great loss so alarmed the French, +that the Duke of Burgundy proposed that a meeting to treat of peace should be +held between the French and the English kings in a plain by the river Seine. On +the appointed day, King Henry appeared there, with his two brothers, Clarence +and Gloucester, and a thousand men. The unfortunate French King, being more mad +than usual that day, could not come; but the Queen came, and with her the +Princess Catherine: who was a very lovely creature, and who made a real +impression on King Henry, now that he saw her for the first time. This was the +most important circumstance that arose out of the meeting. +</p> + +<p> +As if it were impossible for a French nobleman of that time to be true to his +word of honour in anything, Henry discovered that the Duke of Burgundy was, at +that very moment, in secret treaty with the Dauphin; and he therefore abandoned +the negotiation. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Burgundy and the Dauphin, each of whom with the best reason +distrusted the other as a noble ruffian surrounded by a party of noble +ruffians, were rather at a loss how to proceed after this; but, at length they +agreed to meet, on a bridge over the river Yonne, where it was arranged that +there should be two strong gates put up, with an empty space between them; and +that the Duke of Burgundy should come into that space by one gate, with ten men +only; and that the Dauphin should come into that space by the other gate, also +with ten men, and no more. +</p> + +<p> +So far the Dauphin kept his word, but no farther. When the Duke of Burgundy was +on his knee before him in the act of speaking, one of the Dauphin’s noble +ruffians cut the said duke down with a small axe, and others speedily finished +him. +</p> + +<p> +It was in vain for the Dauphin to pretend that this base murder was not done +with his consent; it was too bad, even for France, and caused a general horror. +The duke’s heir hastened to make a treaty with King Henry, and the French +Queen engaged that her husband should consent to it, whatever it was. Henry +made peace, on condition of receiving the Princess Catherine in marriage, and +being made Regent of France during the rest of the King’s lifetime, and +succeeding to the French crown at his death. He was soon married to the +beautiful Princess, and took her proudly home to England, where she was crowned +with great honour and glory. +</p> + +<p> +This peace was called the Perpetual Peace; we shall soon see how long it +lasted. It gave great satisfaction to the French people, although they were so +poor and miserable, that, at the time of the celebration of the Royal marriage, +numbers of them were dying with starvation, on the dunghills in the streets of +Paris. There was some resistance on the part of the Dauphin in some few parts +of France, but King Henry beat it all down. +</p> + +<p> +And now, with his great possessions in France secured, and his beautiful wife +to cheer him, and a son born to give him greater happiness, all appeared bright +before him. But, in the fulness of his triumph and the height of his power, +Death came upon him, and his day was done. When he fell ill at Vincennes, and +found that he could not recover, he was very calm and quiet, and spoke serenely +to those who wept around his bed. His wife and child, he said, he left to the +loving care of his brother the Duke of Bedford, and his other faithful nobles. +He gave them his advice that England should establish a friendship with the new +Duke of Burgundy, and offer him the regency of France; that it should not set +free the royal princes who had been taken at Agincourt; and that, whatever +quarrel might arise with France, England should never make peace without +holding Normandy. Then, he laid down his head, and asked the attendant priests +to chant the penitential psalms. Amid which solemn sounds, on the thirty-first +of August, one thousand four hundred and twenty-two, in only the thirty-fourth +year of his age and the tenth of his reign, King Henry the Fifth passed away. +</p> + +<p> +Slowly and mournfully they carried his embalmed body in a procession of great +state to Paris, and thence to Rouen where his Queen was: from whom the sad +intelligence of his death was concealed until he had been dead some days. +Thence, lying on a bed of crimson and gold, with a golden crown upon the head, +and a golden ball and sceptre lying in the nerveless hands, they carried it to +Calais, with such a great retinue as seemed to dye the road black. The King of +Scotland acted as chief mourner, all the Royal Household followed, the knights +wore black armour and black plumes of feathers, crowds of men bore torches, +making the night as light as day; and the widowed Princess followed last of +all. At Calais there was a fleet of ships to bring the funeral host to Dover. +And so, by way of London Bridge, where the service for the dead was chanted as +it passed along, they brought the body to Westminster Abbey, and there buried +it with great respect. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap22"></a>CHAPTER XXII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SIXTH</h2> + +<h3>PART THE FIRST</h3> + +<p> +It had been the wish of the late King, that while his infant son <span +class="smcap">King Henry the Sixth</span>, at this time only nine months old, +was under age, the Duke of Gloucester should be appointed Regent. The English +Parliament, however, preferred to appoint a Council of Regency, with the Duke +of Bedford at its head: to be represented, in his absence only, by the Duke of +Gloucester. The Parliament would seem to have been wise in this, for Gloucester +soon showed himself to be ambitious and troublesome, and, in the gratification +of his own personal schemes, gave dangerous offence to the Duke of Burgundy, +which was with difficulty adjusted. +</p> + +<p> +As that duke declined the Regency of France, it was bestowed by the poor French +King upon the Duke of Bedford. But, the French King dying within two months, +the Dauphin instantly asserted his claim to the French throne, and was actually +crowned under the title of <span class="smcap">Charles the Seventh</span>. The +Duke of Bedford, to be a match for him, entered into a friendly league with the +Dukes of Burgundy and Brittany, and gave them his two sisters in marriage. War +with France was immediately renewed, and the Perpetual Peace came to an +untimely end. +</p> + +<p> +In the first campaign, the English, aided by this alliance, were speedily +successful. As Scotland, however, had sent the French five thousand men, and +might send more, or attack the North of England while England was busy with +France, it was considered that it would be a good thing to offer the Scottish +King, James, who had been so long imprisoned, his liberty, on his paying forty +thousand pounds for his board and lodging during nineteen years, and engaging +to forbid his subjects from serving under the flag of France. It is pleasant to +know, not only that the amiable captive at last regained his freedom upon these +terms, but, that he married a noble English lady, with whom he had been long in +love, and became an excellent King. I am afraid we have met with some Kings in +this history, and shall meet with some more, who would have been very much the +better, and would have left the world much happier, if they had been imprisoned +nineteen years too. +</p> + +<p> +In the second campaign, the English gained a considerable victory at Verneuil, +in a battle which was chiefly remarkable, otherwise, for their resorting to the +odd expedient of tying their baggage-horses together by the heads and tails, +and jumbling them up with the baggage, so as to convert them into a sort of +live fortification—which was found useful to the troops, but which I +should think was not agreeable to the horses. For three years afterwards very +little was done, owing to both sides being too poor for war, which is a very +expensive entertainment; but, a council was then held in Paris, in which it was +decided to lay siege to the town of Orleans, which was a place of great +importance to the Dauphin’s cause. An English army of ten thousand men +was despatched on this service, under the command of the Earl of Salisbury, a +general of fame. He being unfortunately killed early in the siege, the Earl of +Suffolk took his place; under whom (reinforced by <span class="smcap">Sir John +Falstaff</span>, who brought up four hundred waggons laden with salt herrings +and other provisions for the troops, and, beating off the French who tried to +intercept him, came victorious out of a hot skirmish, which was afterwards +called in jest the Battle of the Herrings) the town of Orleans was so +completely hemmed in, that the besieged proposed to yield it up to their +countryman the Duke of Burgundy. The English general, however, replied that his +English men had won it, so far, by their blood and valour, and that his English +men must have it. There seemed to be no hope for the town, or for the Dauphin, +who was so dismayed that he even thought of flying to Scotland or to +Spain—when a peasant girl rose up and changed the whole state of affairs. +</p> + +<p> +The story of this peasant girl I have now to tell. +</p> + +<h3>PART THE SECOND: THE STORY OF JOAN OF ARC</h3> + +<p> +In a remote village among some wild hills in the province of Lorraine, there +lived a countryman whose name was <span class="smcap">Jacques +d’Arc</span>. He had a daughter, <span class="smcap">Joan of Arc</span>, +who was at this time in her twentieth year. She had been a solitary girl from +her childhood; she had often tended sheep and cattle for whole days where no +human figure was seen or human voice heard; and she had often knelt, for hours +together, in the gloomy, empty, little village chapel, looking up at the altar +and at the dim lamp burning before it, until she fancied that she saw shadowy +figures standing there, and even that she heard them speak to her. The people +in that part of France were very ignorant and superstitious, and they had many +ghostly tales to tell about what they had dreamed, and what they saw among the +lonely hills when the clouds and the mists were resting on them. So, they +easily believed that Joan saw strange sights, and they whispered among +themselves that angels and spirits talked to her. +</p> + +<p> +At last, Joan told her father that she had one day been surprised by a great +unearthly light, and had afterwards heard a solemn voice, which said it was +Saint Michael’s voice, telling her that she was to go and help the +Dauphin. Soon after this (she said), Saint Catherine and Saint Margaret had +appeared to her with sparkling crowns upon their heads, and had encouraged her +to be virtuous and resolute. These visions had returned sometimes; but the +Voices very often; and the voices always said, ‘Joan, thou art appointed +by Heaven to go and help the Dauphin!’ She almost always heard them while +the chapel bells were ringing. +</p> + +<p> +There is no doubt, now, that Joan believed she saw and heard these things. It +is very well known that such delusions are a disease which is not by any means +uncommon. It is probable enough that there were figures of Saint Michael, and +Saint Catherine, and Saint Margaret, in the little chapel (where they would be +very likely to have shining crowns upon their heads), and that they first gave +Joan the idea of those three personages. She had long been a moping, fanciful +girl, and, though she was a very good girl, I dare say she was a little vain, +and wishful for notoriety. +</p> + +<p> +Her father, something wiser than his neighbours, said, ‘I tell thee, +Joan, it is thy fancy. Thou hadst better have a kind husband to take care of +thee, girl, and work to employ thy mind!’ But Joan told him in reply, +that she had taken a vow never to have a husband, and that she must go as +Heaven directed her, to help the Dauphin. +</p> + +<p> +It happened, unfortunately for her father’s persuasions, and most +unfortunately for the poor girl, too, that a party of the Dauphin’s +enemies found their way into the village while Joan’s disorder was at +this point, and burnt the chapel, and drove out the inhabitants. The cruelties +she saw committed, touched Joan’s heart and made her worse. She said that +the voices and the figures were now continually with her; that they told her +she was the girl who, according to an old prophecy, was to deliver France; and +she must go and help the Dauphin, and must remain with him until he should be +crowned at Rheims: and that she must travel a long way to a certain lord named +<span class="smcap">Baudricourt</span>, who could and would, bring her into the +Dauphin’s presence. +</p> + +<p> +As her father still said, ‘I tell thee, Joan, it is thy fancy,’ she +set off to find out this lord, accompanied by an uncle, a poor village +wheelwright and cart-maker, who believed in the reality of her visions. They +travelled a long way and went on and on, over a rough country, full of the Duke +of Burgundy’s men, and of all kinds of robbers and marauders, until they +came to where this lord was. +</p> + +<p> +When his servants told him that there was a poor peasant girl named Joan of +Arc, accompanied by nobody but an old village wheelwright and cart-maker, who +wished to see him because she was commanded to help the Dauphin and save +France, Baudricourt burst out a-laughing, and bade them send the girl away. +But, he soon heard so much about her lingering in the town, and praying in the +churches, and seeing visions, and doing harm to no one, that he sent for her, +and questioned her. As she said the same things after she had been well +sprinkled with holy water as she had said before the sprinkling, Baudricourt +began to think there might be something in it. At all events, he thought it +worth while to send her on to the town of Chinon, where the Dauphin was. So, he +bought her a horse, and a sword, and gave her two squires to conduct her. As +the Voices had told Joan that she was to wear a man’s dress, now, she put +one on, and girded her sword to her side, and bound spurs to her heels, and +mounted her horse and rode away with her two squires. As to her uncle the +wheelwright, he stood staring at his niece in wonder until she was out of +sight—as well he might—and then went home again. The best place, +too. +</p> + +<p> +Joan and her two squires rode on and on, until they came to Chinon, where she +was, after some doubt, admitted into the Dauphin’s presence. Picking him +out immediately from all his court, she told him that she came commanded by +Heaven to subdue his enemies and conduct him to his coronation at Rheims. She +also told him (or he pretended so afterwards, to make the greater impression +upon his soldiers) a number of his secrets known only to himself, and, +furthermore, she said there was an old, old sword in the cathedral of Saint +Catherine at Fierbois, marked with five old crosses on the blade, which Saint +Catherine had ordered her to wear. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/p158b.jpg"> +<img alt="Joan of Arc" src="images/p158s.jpg" /></a> +</div> + +<p> +Now, nobody knew anything about this old, old sword, but when the cathedral +came to be examined—which was immediately done—there, sure enough, +the sword was found! The Dauphin then required a number of grave priests and +bishops to give him their opinion whether the girl derived her power from good +spirits or from evil spirits, which they held prodigiously long debates about, +in the course of which several learned men fell fast asleep and snored loudly. +At last, when one gruff old gentleman had said to Joan, ‘What language do +your Voices speak?’ and when Joan had replied to the gruff old gentleman, +‘A pleasanter language than yours,’ they agreed that it was all +correct, and that Joan of Arc was inspired from Heaven. This wonderful +circumstance put new heart into the Dauphin’s soldiers when they heard of +it, and dispirited the English army, who took Joan for a witch. +</p> + +<p> +So Joan mounted horse again, and again rode on and on, until she came to +Orleans. But she rode now, as never peasant girl had ridden yet. She rode upon +a white war-horse, in a suit of glittering armour; with the old, old sword from +the cathedral, newly burnished, in her belt; with a white flag carried before +her, upon which were a picture of God, and the words <span class="smcap">Jesus +Maria</span>. In this splendid state, at the head of a great body of troops +escorting provisions of all kinds for the starving inhabitants of Orleans, she +appeared before that beleaguered city. +</p> + +<p> +When the people on the walls beheld her, they cried out ‘The Maid is +come! The Maid of the Prophecy is come to deliver us!’ And this, and the +sight of the Maid fighting at the head of their men, made the French so bold, +and made the English so fearful, that the English line of forts was soon +broken, the troops and provisions were got into the town, and Orleans was +saved. +</p> + +<p> +Joan, henceforth called <span class="smcap">The Maid of Orleans</span>, +remained within the walls for a few days, and caused letters to be thrown over, +ordering Lord Suffolk and his Englishmen to depart from before the town +according to the will of Heaven. As the English general very positively +declined to believe that Joan knew anything about the will of Heaven (which did +not mend the matter with his soldiers, for they stupidly said if she were not +inspired she was a witch, and it was of no use to fight against a witch), she +mounted her white war-horse again, and ordered her white banner to advance. +</p> + +<p> +The besiegers held the bridge, and some strong towers upon the bridge; and here +the Maid of Orleans attacked them. The fight was fourteen hours long. She +planted a scaling ladder with her own hands, and mounted a tower wall, but was +struck by an English arrow in the neck, and fell into the trench. She was +carried away and the arrow was taken out, during which operation she screamed +and cried with the pain, as any other girl might have done; but presently she +said that the Voices were speaking to her and soothing her to rest. After a +while, she got up, and was again foremost in the fight. When the English who +had seen her fall and supposed her dead, saw this, they were troubled with the +strangest fears, and some of them cried out that they beheld Saint Michael on a +white horse (probably Joan herself) fighting for the French. They lost the +bridge, and lost the towers, and next day set their chain of forts on fire, and +left the place. +</p> + +<p> +But as Lord Suffolk himself retired no farther than the town of Jargeau, which +was only a few miles off, the Maid of Orleans besieged him there, and he was +taken prisoner. As the white banner scaled the wall, she was struck upon the +head with a stone, and was again tumbled down into the ditch; but, she only +cried all the more, as she lay there, ‘On, on, my countrymen! And fear +nothing, for the Lord hath delivered them into our hands!’ After this new +success of the Maid’s, several other fortresses and places which had +previously held out against the Dauphin were delivered up without a battle; and +at Patay she defeated the remainder of the English army, and set up her +victorious white banner on a field where twelve hundred Englishmen lay dead. +</p> + +<p> +She now urged the Dauphin (who always kept out of the way when there was any +fighting) to proceed to Rheims, as the first part of her mission was +accomplished; and to complete the whole by being crowned there. The Dauphin was +in no particular hurry to do this, as Rheims was a long way off, and the +English and the Duke of Burgundy were still strong in the country through which +the road lay. However, they set forth, with ten thousand men, and again the +Maid of Orleans rode on and on, upon her white war-horse, and in her shining +armour. Whenever they came to a town which yielded readily, the soldiers +believed in her; but, whenever they came to a town which gave them any trouble, +they began to murmur that she was an impostor. The latter was particularly the +case at Troyes, which finally yielded, however, through the persuasion of one +Richard, a friar of the place. Friar Richard was in the old doubt about the +Maid of Orleans, until he had sprinkled her well with holy water, and had also +well sprinkled the threshold of the gate by which she came into the city. +Finding that it made no change in her or the gate, he said, as the other grave +old gentlemen had said, that it was all right, and became her great ally. +</p> + +<p> +So, at last, by dint of riding on and on, the Maid of Orleans, and the Dauphin, +and the ten thousand sometimes believing and sometimes unbelieving men, came to +Rheims. And in the great cathedral of Rheims, the Dauphin actually was crowned +Charles the Seventh in a great assembly of the people. Then, the Maid, who with +her white banner stood beside the King in that hour of his triumph, kneeled +down upon the pavement at his feet, and said, with tears, that what she had +been inspired to do, was done, and that the only recompense she asked for, was, +that she should now have leave to go back to her distant home, and her sturdily +incredulous father, and her first simple escort the village wheelwright and +cart-maker. But the King said ‘No!’ and made her and her family as +noble as a King could, and settled upon her the income of a Count. +</p> + +<p> +Ah! happy had it been for the Maid of Orleans, if she had resumed her rustic +dress that day, and had gone home to the little chapel and the wild hills, and +had forgotten all these things, and had been a good man’s wife, and had +heard no stranger voices than the voices of little children! +</p> + +<p> +It was not to be, and she continued helping the King (she did a world for him, +in alliance with Friar Richard), and trying to improve the lives of the coarse +soldiers, and leading a religious, an unselfish, and a modest life, herself, +beyond any doubt. Still, many times she prayed the King to let her go home; and +once she even took off her bright armour and hung it up in a church, meaning +never to wear it more. But, the King always won her back again—while she +was of any use to him—and so she went on and on and on, to her doom. +</p> + +<p> +When the Duke of Bedford, who was a very able man, began to be active for +England, and, by bringing the war back into France and by holding the Duke of +Burgundy to his faith, to distress and disturb Charles very much, Charles +sometimes asked the Maid of Orleans what the Voices said about it? But, the +Voices had become (very like ordinary voices in perplexed times) contradictory +and confused, so that now they said one thing, and now said another, and the +Maid lost credit every day. Charles marched on Paris, which was opposed to him, +and attacked the suburb of Saint Honoré. In this fight, being again +struck down into the ditch, she was abandoned by the whole army. She lay +unaided among a heap of dead, and crawled out how she could. Then, some of her +believers went over to an opposition Maid, Catherine of La Rochelle, who said +she was inspired to tell where there were treasures of buried +money—though she never did—and then Joan accidentally broke the +old, old sword, and others said that her power was broken with it. Finally, at +the siege of Compiègne, held by the Duke of Burgundy, where she did +valiant service, she was basely left alone in a retreat, though facing about +and fighting to the last; and an archer pulled her off her horse. +</p> + +<p> +O the uproar that was made, and the thanksgivings that were sung, about the +capture of this one poor country-girl! O the way in which she was demanded to +be tried for sorcery and heresy, and anything else you like, by the +Inquisitor-General of France, and by this great man, and by that great man, +until it is wearisome to think of! She was bought at last by the Bishop of +Beauvais for ten thousand francs, and was shut up in her narrow prison: plain +Joan of Arc again, and Maid of Orleans no more. +</p> + +<p> +I should never have done if I were to tell you how they had Joan out to examine +her, and cross-examine her, and re-examine her, and worry her into saying +anything and everything; and how all sorts of scholars and doctors bestowed +their utmost tediousness upon her. Sixteen times she was brought out and shut +up again, and worried, and entrapped, and argued with, until she was heart-sick +of the dreary business. On the last occasion of this kind she was brought into +a burial-place at Rouen, dismally decorated with a scaffold, and a stake and +faggots, and the executioner, and a pulpit with a friar therein, and an awful +sermon ready. It is very affecting to know that even at that pass the poor girl +honoured the mean vermin of a King, who had so used her for his purposes and so +abandoned her; and, that while she had been regardless of reproaches heaped +upon herself, she spoke out courageously for him. +</p> + +<p> +It was natural in one so young to hold to life. To save her life, she signed a +declaration prepared for her—signed it with a cross, for she +couldn’t write—that all her visions and Voices had come from the +Devil. Upon her recanting the past, and protesting that she would never wear a +man’s dress in future, she was condemned to imprisonment for life, +‘on the bread of sorrow and the water of affliction.’ +</p> + +<p> +But, on the bread of sorrow and the water of affliction, the visions and the +Voices soon returned. It was quite natural that they should do so, for that +kind of disease is much aggravated by fasting, loneliness, and anxiety of mind. +It was not only got out of Joan that she considered herself inspired again, +but, she was taken in a man’s dress, which had been left—to entrap +her—in her prison, and which she put on, in her solitude; perhaps, in +remembrance of her past glories, perhaps, because the imaginary Voices told +her. For this relapse into the sorcery and heresy and anything else you like, +she was sentenced to be burnt to death. And, in the market-place of Rouen, in +the hideous dress which the monks had invented for such spectacles; with +priests and bishops sitting in a gallery looking on, though some had the +Christian grace to go away, unable to endure the infamous scene; this shrieking +girl—last seen amidst the smoke and fire, holding a crucifix between her +hands; last heard, calling upon Christ—was burnt to ashes. They threw her +ashes into the river Seine; but they will rise against her murderers on the +last day. +</p> + +<p> +From the moment of her capture, neither the French King nor one single man in +all his court raised a finger to save her. It is no defence of them that they +may have never really believed in her, or that they may have won her victories +by their skill and bravery. The more they pretended to believe in her, the more +they had caused her to believe in herself; and she had ever been true to them, +ever brave, ever nobly devoted. But, it is no wonder, that they, who were in +all things false to themselves, false to one another, false to their country, +false to Heaven, false to Earth, should be monsters of ingratitude and +treachery to a helpless peasant girl. +</p> + +<p> +In the picturesque old town of Rouen, where weeds and grass grow high on the +cathedral towers, and the venerable Norman streets are still warm in the +blessed sunlight though the monkish fires that once gleamed horribly upon them +have long grown cold, there is a statue of Joan of Arc, in the scene of her +last agony, the square to which she has given its present name. I know some +statues of modern times—even in the World’s metropolis, I +think—which commemorate less constancy, less earnestness, smaller claims +upon the world’s attention, and much greater impostors. +</p> + +<h3>PART THE THIRD</h3> + +<p> +Bad deeds seldom prosper, happily for mankind; and the English cause gained no +advantage from the cruel death of Joan of Arc. For a long time, the war went +heavily on. The Duke of Bedford died; the alliance with the Duke of Burgundy +was broken; and Lord Talbot became a great general on the English side in +France. But, two of the consequences of wars are, Famine—because the +people cannot peacefully cultivate the ground—and Pestilence, which comes +of want, misery, and suffering. Both these horrors broke out in both countries, +and lasted for two wretched years. Then, the war went on again, and came by +slow degrees to be so badly conducted by the English government, that, within +twenty years from the execution of the Maid of Orleans, of all the great French +conquests, the town of Calais alone remained in English hands. +</p> + +<p> +While these victories and defeats were taking place in the course of time, many +strange things happened at home. The young King, as he grew up, proved to be +very unlike his great father, and showed himself a miserable puny creature. +There was no harm in him—he had a great aversion to shedding blood: which +was something—but, he was a weak, silly, helpless young man, and a mere +shuttlecock to the great lordly battledores about the Court. +</p> + +<p> +Of these battledores, Cardinal Beaufort, a relation of the King, and the Duke +of Gloucester, were at first the most powerful. The Duke of Gloucester had a +wife, who was nonsensically accused of practising witchcraft to cause the +King’s death and lead to her husband’s coming to the throne, he +being the next heir. She was charged with having, by the help of a ridiculous +old woman named Margery (who was called a witch), made a little waxen doll in +the King’s likeness, and put it before a slow fire that it might +gradually melt away. It was supposed, in such cases, that the death of the +person whom the doll was made to represent, was sure to happen. Whether the +duchess was as ignorant as the rest of them, and really did make such a doll +with such an intention, I don’t know; but, you and I know very well that +she might have made a thousand dolls, if she had been stupid enough, and might +have melted them all, without hurting the King or anybody else. However, she +was tried for it, and so was old Margery, and so was one of the duke’s +chaplains, who was charged with having assisted them. Both he and Margery were +put to death, and the duchess, after being taken on foot and bearing a lighted +candle, three times round the City, as a penance, was imprisoned for life. The +duke, himself, took all this pretty quietly, and made as little stir about the +matter as if he were rather glad to be rid of the duchess. +</p> + +<p> +But, he was not destined to keep himself out of trouble long. The royal +shuttlecock being three-and-twenty, the battledores were very anxious to get +him married. The Duke of Gloucester wanted him to marry a daughter of the Count +of Armagnac; but, the Cardinal and the Earl of Suffolk were all for <span +class="smcap">Margaret</span>, the daughter of the King of Sicily, who they +knew was a resolute, ambitious woman and would govern the King as she chose. To +make friends with this lady, the Earl of Suffolk, who went over to arrange the +match, consented to accept her for the King’s wife without any fortune, +and even to give up the two most valuable possessions England then had in +France. So, the marriage was arranged, on terms very advantageous to the lady; +and Lord Suffolk brought her to England, and she was married at Westminster. On +what pretence this queen and her party charged the Duke of Gloucester with high +treason within a couple of years, it is impossible to make out, the matter is +so confused; but, they pretended that the King’s life was in danger, and +they took the duke prisoner. A fortnight afterwards, he was found dead in bed +(they said), and his body was shown to the people, and Lord Suffolk came in for +the best part of his estates. You know by this time how strangely liable state +prisoners were to sudden death. +</p> + +<p> +If Cardinal Beaufort had any hand in this matter, it did him no good, for he +died within six weeks; thinking it very hard and curious—at eighty years +old!—that he could not live to be Pope. +</p> + +<p> +This was the time when England had completed her loss of all her great French +conquests. The people charged the loss principally upon the Earl of Suffolk, +now a duke, who had made those easy terms about the Royal Marriage, and who, +they believed, had even been bought by France. So he was impeached as a +traitor, on a great number of charges, but chiefly on accusations of having +aided the French King, and of designing to make his own son King of England. +The Commons and the people being violent against him, the King was made (by his +friends) to interpose to save him, by banishing him for five years, and +proroguing the Parliament. The duke had much ado to escape from a London mob, +two thousand strong, who lay in wait for him in St. Giles’s fields; but, +he got down to his own estates in Suffolk, and sailed away from Ipswich. +Sailing across the Channel, he sent into Calais to know if he might land there; +but, they kept his boat and men in the harbour, until an English ship, carrying +a hundred and fifty men and called the Nicholas of the Tower, came alongside +his little vessel, and ordered him on board. ‘Welcome, traitor, as men +say,’ was the captain’s grim and not very respectful salutation. He +was kept on board, a prisoner, for eight-and-forty hours, and then a small boat +appeared rowing toward the ship. As this boat came nearer, it was seen to have +in it a block, a rusty sword, and an executioner in a black mask. The duke was +handed down into it, and there his head was cut off with six strokes of the +rusty sword. Then, the little boat rowed away to Dover beach, where the body +was cast out, and left until the duchess claimed it. By whom, high in +authority, this murder was committed, has never appeared. No one was ever +punished for it. +</p> + +<p> +There now arose in Kent an Irishman, who gave himself the name of Mortimer, but +whose real name was <span class="smcap">Jack Cade</span>. Jack, in imitation of +Wat Tyler, though he was a very different and inferior sort of man, addressed +the Kentish men upon their wrongs, occasioned by the bad government of England, +among so many battledores and such a poor shuttlecock; and the Kentish men rose +up to the number of twenty thousand. Their place of assembly was Blackheath, +where, headed by Jack, they put forth two papers, which they called ‘The +Complaint of the Commons of Kent,’ and ‘The Requests of the Captain +of the Great Assembly in Kent.’ They then retired to Sevenoaks. The royal +army coming up with them here, they beat it and killed their general. Then, +Jack dressed himself in the dead general’s armour, and led his men to +London. +</p> + +<p> +Jack passed into the City from Southwark, over the bridge, and entered it in +triumph, giving the strictest orders to his men not to plunder. Having made a +show of his forces there, while the citizens looked on quietly, he went back +into Southwark in good order, and passed the night. Next day, he came back +again, having got hold in the meantime of Lord Say, an unpopular nobleman. Says +Jack to the Lord Mayor and judges: ‘Will you be so good as to make a +tribunal in Guildhall, and try me this nobleman?’ The court being hastily +made, he was found guilty, and Jack and his men cut his head off on Cornhill. +They also cut off the head of his son-in-law, and then went back in good order +to Southwark again. +</p> + +<p> +But, although the citizens could bear the beheading of an unpopular lord, they +could not bear to have their houses pillaged. And it did so happen that Jack, +after dinner—perhaps he had drunk a little too much—began to +plunder the house where he lodged; upon which, of course, his men began to +imitate him. Wherefore, the Londoners took counsel with Lord Scales, who had a +thousand soldiers in the Tower; and defended London Bridge, and kept Jack and +his people out. This advantage gained, it was resolved by divers great men to +divide Jack’s army in the old way, by making a great many promises on +behalf of the state, that were never intended to be performed. This <i>did</i> +divide them; some of Jack’s men saying that they ought to take the +conditions which were offered, and others saying that they ought not, for they +were only a snare; some going home at once; others staying where they were; and +all doubting and quarrelling among themselves. +</p> + +<p> +Jack, who was in two minds about fighting or accepting a pardon, and who indeed +did both, saw at last that there was nothing to expect from his men, and that +it was very likely some of them would deliver him up and get a reward of a +thousand marks, which was offered for his apprehension. So, after they had +travelled and quarrelled all the way from Southwark to Blackheath, and from +Blackheath to Rochester, he mounted a good horse and galloped away into Sussex. +But, there galloped after him, on a better horse, one Alexander Iden, who came +up with him, had a hard fight with him, and killed him. Jack’s head was +set aloft on London Bridge, with the face looking towards Blackheath, where he +had raised his flag; and Alexander Iden got the thousand marks. +</p> + +<p> +It is supposed by some, that the Duke of York, who had been removed from a high +post abroad through the Queen’s influence, and sent out of the way, to +govern Ireland, was at the bottom of this rising of Jack and his men, because +he wanted to trouble the government. He claimed (though not yet publicly) to +have a better right to the throne than Henry of Lancaster, as one of the family +of the Earl of March, whom Henry the Fourth had set aside. Touching this claim, +which, being through female relationship, was not according to the usual +descent, it is enough to say that Henry the Fourth was the free choice of the +people and the Parliament, and that his family had now reigned undisputed for +sixty years. The memory of Henry the Fifth was so famous, and the English +people loved it so much, that the Duke of York’s claim would, perhaps, +never have been thought of (it would have been so hopeless) but for the +unfortunate circumstance of the present King’s being by this time quite +an idiot, and the country very ill governed. These two circumstances gave the +Duke of York a power he could not otherwise have had. +</p> + +<p> +Whether the Duke knew anything of Jack Cade, or not, he came over from Ireland +while Jack’s head was on London Bridge; being secretly advised that the +Queen was setting up his enemy, the Duke of Somerset, against him. He went to +Westminster, at the head of four thousand men, and on his knees before the +King, represented to him the bad state of the country, and petitioned him to +summon a Parliament to consider it. This the King promised. When the Parliament +was summoned, the Duke of York accused the Duke of Somerset, and the Duke of +Somerset accused the Duke of York; and, both in and out of Parliament, the +followers of each party were full of violence and hatred towards the other. At +length the Duke of York put himself at the head of a large force of his +tenants, and, in arms, demanded the reformation of the Government. Being shut +out of London, he encamped at Dartford, and the royal army encamped at +Blackheath. According as either side triumphed, the Duke of York was arrested, +or the Duke of Somerset was arrested. The trouble ended, for the moment, in the +Duke of York renewing his oath of allegiance, and going in peace to one of his +own castles. +</p> + +<p> +Half a year afterwards the Queen gave birth to a son, who was very ill received +by the people, and not believed to be the son of the King. It shows the Duke of +York to have been a moderate man, unwilling to involve England in new troubles, +that he did not take advantage of the general discontent at this time, but +really acted for the public good. He was made a member of the cabinet, and the +King being now so much worse that he could not be carried about and shown to +the people with any decency, the duke was made Lord Protector of the kingdom, +until the King should recover, or the Prince should come of age. At the same +time the Duke of Somerset was committed to the Tower. So, now the Duke of +Somerset was down, and the Duke of York was up. By the end of the year, +however, the King recovered his memory and some spark of sense; upon which the +Queen used her power—which recovered with him—to get the Protector +disgraced, and her favourite released. So now the Duke of York was down, and +the Duke of Somerset was up. +</p> + +<p> +These ducal ups and downs gradually separated the whole nation into the two +parties of York and Lancaster, and led to those terrible civil wars long known +as the Wars of the Red and White Roses, because the red rose was the badge of +the House of Lancaster, and the white rose was the badge of the House of York. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of York, joined by some other powerful noblemen of the White Rose +party, and leading a small army, met the King with another small army at St. +Alban’s, and demanded that the Duke of Somerset should be given up. The +poor King, being made to say in answer that he would sooner die, was instantly +attacked. The Duke of Somerset was killed, and the King himself was wounded in +the neck, and took refuge in the house of a poor tanner. Whereupon, the Duke of +York went to him, led him with great submission to the Abbey, and said he was +very sorry for what had happened. Having now the King in his possession, he got +a Parliament summoned and himself once more made Protector, but, only for a few +months; for, on the King getting a little better again, the Queen and her party +got him into their possession, and disgraced the Duke once more. So, now the +Duke of York was down again. +</p> + +<p> +Some of the best men in power, seeing the danger of these constant changes, +tried even then to prevent the Red and the White Rose Wars. They brought about +a great council in London between the two parties. The White Roses assembled in +Blackfriars, the Red Roses in Whitefriars; and some good priests communicated +between them, and made the proceedings known at evening to the King and the +judges. They ended in a peaceful agreement that there should be no more +quarrelling; and there was a great royal procession to St. Paul’s, in +which the Queen walked arm-in-arm with her old enemy, the Duke of York, to show +the people how comfortable they all were. This state of peace lasted half a +year, when a dispute between the Earl of Warwick (one of the Duke’s +powerful friends) and some of the King’s servants at Court, led to an +attack upon that Earl—who was a White Rose—and to a sudden breaking +out of all old animosities. So, here were greater ups and downs than ever. +</p> + +<p> +There were even greater ups and downs than these, soon after. After various +battles, the Duke of York fled to Ireland, and his son the Earl of March to +Calais, with their friends the Earls of Salisbury and Warwick; and a Parliament +was held declaring them all traitors. Little the worse for this, the Earl of +Warwick presently came back, landed in Kent, was joined by the Archbishop of +Canterbury and other powerful noblemen and gentlemen, engaged the King’s +forces at Northampton, signally defeated them, and took the King himself +prisoner, who was found in his tent. Warwick would have been glad, I dare say, +to have taken the Queen and Prince too, but they escaped into Wales and thence +into Scotland. +</p> + +<p> +The King was carried by the victorious force straight to London, and made to +call a new Parliament, which immediately declared that the Duke of York and +those other noblemen were not traitors, but excellent subjects. Then, back +comes the Duke from Ireland at the head of five hundred horsemen, rides from +London to Westminster, and enters the House of Lords. There, he laid his hand +upon the cloth of gold which covered the empty throne, as if he had half a mind +to sit down in it—but he did not. On the Archbishop of Canterbury, asking +him if he would visit the King, who was in his palace close by, he replied, +‘I know no one in this country, my lord, who ought not to visit +<i>me</i>.’ None of the lords present spoke a single word; so, the duke +went out as he had come in, established himself royally in the King’s +palace, and, six days afterwards, sent in to the Lords a formal statement of +his claim to the throne. The lords went to the King on this momentous subject, +and after a great deal of discussion, in which the judges and the other law +officers were afraid to give an opinion on either side, the question was +compromised. It was agreed that the present King should retain the crown for +his life, and that it should then pass to the Duke of York and his heirs. +</p> + +<p> +But, the resolute Queen, determined on asserting her son’s right, would +hear of no such thing. She came from Scotland to the north of England, where +several powerful lords armed in her cause. The Duke of York, for his part, set +off with some five thousand men, a little time before Christmas Day, one +thousand four hundred and sixty, to give her battle. He lodged at Sandal +Castle, near Wakefield, and the Red Roses defied him to come out on Wakefield +Green, and fight them then and there. His generals said, he had best wait until +his gallant son, the Earl of March, came up with his power; but, he was +determined to accept the challenge. He did so, in an evil hour. He was hotly +pressed on all sides, two thousand of his men lay dead on Wakefield Green, and +he himself was taken prisoner. They set him down in mock state on an ant-hill, +and twisted grass about his head, and pretended to pay court to him on their +knees, saying, ‘O King, without a kingdom, and Prince without a people, +we hope your gracious Majesty is very well and happy!’ They did worse +than this; they cut his head off, and handed it on a pole to the Queen, who +laughed with delight when she saw it (you recollect their walking so +religiously and comfortably to St. Paul’s!), and had it fixed, with a +paper crown upon its head, on the walls of York. The Earl of Salisbury lost his +head, too; and the Duke of York’s second son, a handsome boy who was +flying with his tutor over Wakefield Bridge, was stabbed in the heart by a +murderous, lord—Lord Clifford by name—whose father had been killed +by the White Roses in the fight at St. Alban’s. There was awful sacrifice +of life in this battle, for no quarter was given, and the Queen was wild for +revenge. When men unnaturally fight against their own countrymen, they are +always observed to be more unnaturally cruel and filled with rage than they are +against any other enemy. +</p> + +<p> +But, Lord Clifford had stabbed the second son of the Duke of York—not the +first. The eldest son, Edward Earl of March, was at Gloucester; and, vowing +vengeance for the death of his father, his brother, and their faithful friends, +he began to march against the Queen. He had to turn and fight a great body of +Welsh and Irish first, who worried his advance. These he defeated in a great +fight at Mortimer’s Cross, near Hereford, where he beheaded a number of +the Red Roses taken in battle, in retaliation for the beheading of the White +Roses at Wakefield. The Queen had the next turn of beheading. Having moved +towards London, and falling in, between St. Alban’s and Barnet, with the +Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Norfolk, White Roses both, who were there with +an army to oppose her, and had got the King with them; she defeated them with +great loss, and struck off the heads of two prisoners of note, who were in the +King’s tent with him, and to whom the King had promised his protection. +Her triumph, however, was very short. She had no treasure, and her army +subsisted by plunder. This caused them to be hated and dreaded by the people, +and particularly by the London people, who were wealthy. As soon as the +Londoners heard that Edward, Earl of March, united with the Earl of Warwick, +was advancing towards the city, they refused to send the Queen supplies, and +made a great rejoicing. +</p> + +<p> +The Queen and her men retreated with all speed, and Edward and Warwick came on, +greeted with loud acclamations on every side. The courage, beauty, and virtues +of young Edward could not be sufficiently praised by the whole people. He rode +into London like a conqueror, and met with an enthusiastic welcome. A few days +afterwards, Lord Falconbridge and the Bishop of Exeter assembled the citizens +in St. John’s Field, Clerkenwell, and asked them if they would have Henry +of Lancaster for their King? To this they all roared, ‘No, no, no!’ +and ‘King Edward! King Edward!’ Then, said those noblemen, would +they love and serve young Edward? To this they all cried, ‘Yes, +yes!’ and threw up their caps and clapped their hands, and cheered +tremendously. +</p> + +<p> +Therefore, it was declared that by joining the Queen and not protecting those +two prisoners of note, Henry of Lancaster had forfeited the crown; and Edward +of York was proclaimed King. He made a great speech to the applauding people at +Westminster, and sat down as sovereign of England on that throne, on the golden +covering of which his father—worthy of a better fate than the bloody axe +which cut the thread of so many lives in England, through so many +years—had laid his hand. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap23"></a>CHAPTER XXIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FOURTH</h2> + +<p> +King Edward the Fourth was not quite twenty-one years of age when he took that +unquiet seat upon the throne of England. The Lancaster party, the Red Roses, +were then assembling in great numbers near York, and it was necessary to give +them battle instantly. But, the stout Earl of Warwick leading for the young +King, and the young King himself closely following him, and the English people +crowding round the Royal standard, the White and the Red Roses met, on a wild +March day when the snow was falling heavily, at Towton; and there such a +furious battle raged between them, that the total loss amounted to forty +thousand men—all Englishmen, fighting, upon English ground, against one +another. The young King gained the day, took down the heads of his father and +brother from the walls of York, and put up the heads of some of the most famous +noblemen engaged in the battle on the other side. Then, he went to London and +was crowned with great splendour. +</p> + +<p> +A new Parliament met. No fewer than one hundred and fifty of the principal +noblemen and gentlemen on the Lancaster side were declared traitors, and the +King—who had very little humanity, though he was handsome in person and +agreeable in manners—resolved to do all he could, to pluck up the Red +Rose root and branch. +</p> + +<p> +Queen Margaret, however, was still active for her young son. She obtained help +from Scotland and from Normandy, and took several important English castles. +But, Warwick soon retook them; the Queen lost all her treasure on board ship in +a great storm; and both she and her son suffered great misfortunes. Once, in +the winter weather, as they were riding through a forest, they were attacked +and plundered by a party of robbers; and, when they had escaped from these men +and were passing alone and on foot through a thick dark part of the wood, they +came, all at once, upon another robber. So the Queen, with a stout heart, took +the little Prince by the hand, and going straight up to that robber, said to +him, ‘My friend, this is the young son of your lawful King! I confide him +to your care.’ The robber was surprised, but took the boy in his arms, +and faithfully restored him and his mother to their friends. In the end, the +Queen’s soldiers being beaten and dispersed, she went abroad again, and +kept quiet for the present. +</p> + +<p> +Now, all this time, the deposed King Henry was concealed by a Welsh knight, who +kept him close in his castle. But, next year, the Lancaster party recovering +their spirits, raised a large body of men, and called him out of his +retirement, to put him at their head. They were joined by some powerful +noblemen who had sworn fidelity to the new King, but who were ready, as usual, +to break their oaths, whenever they thought there was anything to be got by it. +One of the worst things in the history of the war of the Red and White Roses, +is the ease with which these noblemen, who should have set an example of honour +to the people, left either side as they took slight offence, or were +disappointed in their greedy expectations, and joined the other. Well! +Warwick’s brother soon beat the Lancastrians, and the false noblemen, +being taken, were beheaded without a moment’s loss of time. The deposed +King had a narrow escape; three of his servants were taken, and one of them +bore his cap of estate, which was set with pearls and embroidered with two +golden crowns. However, the head to which the cap belonged, got safely into +Lancashire, and lay pretty quietly there (the people in the secret being very +true) for more than a year. At length, an old monk gave such intelligence as +led to Henry’s being taken while he was sitting at dinner in a place +called Waddington Hall. He was immediately sent to London, and met at Islington +by the Earl of Warwick, by whose directions he was put upon a horse, with his +legs tied under it, and paraded three times round the pillory. Then, he was +carried off to the Tower, where they treated him well enough. +</p> + +<p> +The White Rose being so triumphant, the young King abandoned himself entirely +to pleasure, and led a jovial life. But, thorns were springing up under his bed +of roses, as he soon found out. For, having been privately married to <span +class="smcap">Elizabeth Woodville</span>, a young widow lady, very beautiful +and very captivating; and at last resolving to make his secret known, and to +declare her his Queen; he gave some offence to the Earl of Warwick, who was +usually called the King-Maker, because of his power and influence, and because +of his having lent such great help to placing Edward on the throne. This +offence was not lessened by the jealousy with which the Nevil family (the Earl +of Warwick’s) regarded the promotion of the Woodville family. For, the +young Queen was so bent on providing for her relations, that she made her +father an earl and a great officer of state; married her five sisters to young +noblemen of the highest rank; and provided for her younger brother, a young man +of twenty, by marrying him to an immensely rich old duchess of eighty. The Earl +of Warwick took all this pretty graciously for a man of his proud temper, until +the question arose to whom the King’s sister, <span +class="smcap">Margaret</span>, should be married. The Earl of Warwick said, +‘To one of the French King’s sons,’ and was allowed to go +over to the French King to make friendly proposals for that purpose, and to +hold all manner of friendly interviews with him. But, while he was so engaged, +the Woodville party married the young lady to the Duke of Burgundy! Upon this +he came back in great rage and scorn, and shut himself up discontented, in his +Castle of Middleham. +</p> + +<p> +A reconciliation, though not a very sincere one, was patched up between the +Earl of Warwick and the King, and lasted until the Earl married his daughter, +against the King’s wishes, to the Duke of Clarence. While the marriage +was being celebrated at Calais, the people in the north of England, where the +influence of the Nevil family was strongest, broke out into rebellion; their +complaint was, that England was oppressed and plundered by the Woodville +family, whom they demanded to have removed from power. As they were joined by +great numbers of people, and as they openly declared that they were supported +by the Earl of Warwick, the King did not know what to do. At last, as he wrote +to the earl beseeching his aid, he and his new son-in-law came over to England, +and began to arrange the business by shutting the King up in Middleham Castle +in the safe keeping of the Archbishop of York; so England was not only in the +strange position of having two kings at once, but they were both prisoners at +the same time. +</p> + +<p> +Even as yet, however, the King-Maker was so far true to the King, that he +dispersed a new rising of the Lancastrians, took their leader prisoner, and +brought him to the King, who ordered him to be immediately executed. He +presently allowed the King to return to London, and there innumerable pledges +of forgiveness and friendship were exchanged between them, and between the +Nevils and the Woodvilles; the King’s eldest daughter was promised in +marriage to the heir of the Nevil family; and more friendly oaths were sworn, +and more friendly promises made, than this book would hold. +</p> + +<p> +They lasted about three months. At the end of that time, the Archbishop of York +made a feast for the King, the Earl of Warwick, and the Duke of Clarence, at +his house, the Moor, in Hertfordshire. The King was washing his hands before +supper, when some one whispered him that a body of a hundred men were lying in +ambush outside the house. Whether this were true or untrue, the King took +fright, mounted his horse, and rode through the dark night to Windsor Castle. +Another reconciliation was patched up between him and the King-Maker, but it +was a short one, and it was the last. A new rising took place in Lincolnshire, +and the King marched to repress it. Having done so, he proclaimed that both the +Earl of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence were traitors, who had secretly +assisted it, and who had been prepared publicly to join it on the following +day. In these dangerous circumstances they both took ship and sailed away to +the French court. +</p> + +<p> +And here a meeting took place between the Earl of Warwick and his old enemy, +the Dowager Queen Margaret, through whom his father had had his head struck +off, and to whom he had been a bitter foe. But, now, when he said that he had +done with the ungrateful and perfidious Edward of York, and that henceforth he +devoted himself to the restoration of the House of Lancaster, either in the +person of her husband or of her little son, she embraced him as if he had ever +been her dearest friend. She did more than that; she married her son to his +second daughter, the Lady Anne. However agreeable this marriage was to the new +friends, it was very disagreeable to the Duke of Clarence, who perceived that +his father-in-law, the King-Maker, would never make <i>him</i> King, now. So, +being but a weak-minded young traitor, possessed of very little worth or sense, +he readily listened to an artful court lady sent over for the purpose, and +promised to turn traitor once more, and go over to his brother, King Edward, +when a fitting opportunity should come. +</p> + +<p> +The Earl of Warwick, knowing nothing of this, soon redeemed his promise to the +Dowager Queen Margaret, by invading England and landing at Plymouth, where he +instantly proclaimed King Henry, and summoned all Englishmen between the ages +of sixteen and sixty, to join his banner. Then, with his army increasing as he +marched along, he went northward, and came so near King Edward, who was in that +part of the country, that Edward had to ride hard for it to the coast of +Norfolk, and thence to get away in such ships as he could find, to Holland. +Thereupon, the triumphant King-Maker and his false son-in-law, the Duke of +Clarence, went to London, took the old King out of the Tower, and walked him in +a great procession to Saint Paul’s Cathedral with the crown upon his +head. This did not improve the temper of the Duke of Clarence, who saw himself +farther off from being King than ever; but he kept his secret, and said +nothing. The Nevil family were restored to all their honours and glories, and +the Woodvilles and the rest were disgraced. The King-Maker, less sanguinary +than the King, shed no blood except that of the Earl of Worcester, who had been +so cruel to the people as to have gained the title of the Butcher. Him they +caught hidden in a tree, and him they tried and executed. No other death +stained the King-Maker’s triumph. +</p> + +<p> +To dispute this triumph, back came King Edward again, next year, landing at +Ravenspur, coming on to York, causing all his men to cry ‘Long live King +Henry!’ and swearing on the altar, without a blush, that he came to lay +no claim to the crown. Now was the time for the Duke of Clarence, who ordered +his men to assume the White Rose, and declare for his brother. The Marquis of +Montague, though the Earl of Warwick’s brother, also declining to fight +against King Edward, he went on successfully to London, where the Archbishop of +York let him into the City, and where the people made great demonstrations in +his favour. For this they had four reasons. Firstly, there were great numbers +of the King’s adherents hiding in the City and ready to break out; +secondly, the King owed them a great deal of money, which they could never hope +to get if he were unsuccessful; thirdly, there was a young prince to inherit +the crown; and fourthly, the King was gay and handsome, and more popular than a +better man might have been with the City ladies. After a stay of only two days +with these worthy supporters, the King marched out to Barnet Common, to give +the Earl of Warwick battle. And now it was to be seen, for the last time, +whether the King or the King-Maker was to carry the day. +</p> + +<p> +While the battle was yet pending, the fainthearted Duke of Clarence began to +repent, and sent over secret messages to his father-in-law, offering his +services in mediation with the King. But, the Earl of Warwick disdainfully +rejected them, and replied that Clarence was false and perjured, and that he +would settle the quarrel by the sword. The battle began at four o’clock +in the morning and lasted until ten, and during the greater part of the time it +was fought in a thick mist—absurdly supposed to be raised by a magician. +The loss of life was very great, for the hatred was strong on both sides. The +King-Maker was defeated, and the King triumphed. Both the Earl of Warwick and +his brother were slain, and their bodies lay in St. Paul’s, for some +days, as a spectacle to the people. +</p> + +<p> +Margaret’s spirit was not broken even by this great blow. Within five +days she was in arms again, and raised her standard in Bath, whence she set off +with her army, to try and join Lord Pembroke, who had a force in Wales. But, +the King, coming up with her outside the town of Tewkesbury, and ordering his +brother, the <span class="smcap">Duke of Gloucester</span>, who was a brave +soldier, to attack her men, she sustained an entire defeat, and was taken +prisoner, together with her son, now only eighteen years of age. The conduct of +the King to this poor youth was worthy of his cruel character. He ordered him +to be led into his tent. ‘And what,’ said he, ‘brought +<i>you</i> to England?’ ‘I came to England,’ replied the +prisoner, with a spirit which a man of spirit might have admired in a captive, +‘to recover my father’s kingdom, which descended to him as his +right, and from him descends to me, as mine.’ The King, drawing off his +iron gauntlet, struck him with it in the face; and the Duke of Clarence and +some other lords, who were there, drew their noble swords, and killed him. +</p> + +<p> +His mother survived him, a prisoner, for five years; after her ransom by the +King of France, she survived for six years more. Within three weeks of this +murder, Henry died one of those convenient sudden deaths which were so common +in the Tower; in plainer words, he was murdered by the King’s order. +</p> + +<p> +Having no particular excitement on his hands after this great defeat of the +Lancaster party, and being perhaps desirous to get rid of some of his fat (for +he was now getting too corpulent to be handsome), the King thought of making +war on France. As he wanted more money for this purpose than the Parliament +could give him, though they were usually ready enough for war, he invented a +new way of raising it, by sending for the principal citizens of London, and +telling them, with a grave face, that he was very much in want of cash, and +would take it very kind in them if they would lend him some. It being +impossible for them safely to refuse, they complied, and the moneys thus forced +from them were called—no doubt to the great amusement of the King and the +Court—as if they were free gifts, ‘Benevolences.’ What with +grants from Parliament, and what with Benevolences, the King raised an army and +passed over to Calais. As nobody wanted war, however, the French King made +proposals of peace, which were accepted, and a truce was concluded for seven +long years. The proceedings between the Kings of France and England on this +occasion, were very friendly, very splendid, and very distrustful. They +finished with a meeting between the two Kings, on a temporary bridge over the +river Somme, where they embraced through two holes in a strong wooden grating +like a lion’s cage, and made several bows and fine speeches to one +another. +</p> + +<p> +It was time, now, that the Duke of Clarence should be punished for his +treacheries; and Fate had his punishment in store. He was, probably, not +trusted by the King—for who could trust him who knew him!—and he +had certainly a powerful opponent in his brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester, +who, being avaricious and ambitious, wanted to marry that widowed daughter of +the Earl of Warwick’s who had been espoused to the deceased young Prince, +at Calais. Clarence, who wanted all the family wealth for himself, secreted +this lady, whom Richard found disguised as a servant in the City of London, and +whom he married; arbitrators appointed by the King, then divided the property +between the brothers. This led to ill-will and mistrust between them. +Clarence’s wife dying, and he wishing to make another marriage, which was +obnoxious to the King, his ruin was hurried by that means, too. At first, the +Court struck at his retainers and dependents, and accused some of them of magic +and witchcraft, and similar nonsense. Successful against this small game, it +then mounted to the Duke himself, who was impeached by his brother the King, in +person, on a variety of such charges. He was found guilty, and sentenced to be +publicly executed. He never was publicly executed, but he met his death +somehow, in the Tower, and, no doubt, through some agency of the King or his +brother Gloucester, or both. It was supposed at the time that he was told to +choose the manner of his death, and that he chose to be drowned in a butt of +Malmsey wine. I hope the story may be true, for it would have been a becoming +death for such a miserable creature. +</p> + +<p> +The King survived him some five years. He died in the forty-second year of his +life, and the twenty-third of his reign. He had a very good capacity and some +good points, but he was selfish, careless, sensual, and cruel. He was a +favourite with the people for his showy manners; and the people were a good +example to him in the constancy of their attachment. He was penitent on his +death-bed for his ‘benevolences,’ and other extortions, and ordered +restitution to be made to the people who had suffered from them. He also called +about his bed the enriched members of the Woodville family, and the proud lords +whose honours were of older date, and endeavoured to reconcile them, for the +sake of the peaceful succession of his son and the tranquillity of England. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap24"></a>CHAPTER XXIV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE FIFTH</h2> + +<p> +The late King’s eldest son, the Prince of Wales, called <span +class="smcap">Edward</span> after him, was only thirteen years of age at his +father’s death. He was at Ludlow Castle with his uncle, the Earl of +Rivers. The prince’s brother, the Duke of York, only eleven years of age, +was in London with his mother. The boldest, most crafty, and most dreaded +nobleman in England at that time was their uncle <span +class="smcap">Richard</span>, Duke of Gloucester, and everybody wondered how +the two poor boys would fare with such an uncle for a friend or a foe. +</p> + +<p> +The Queen, their mother, being exceedingly uneasy about this, was anxious that +instructions should be sent to Lord Rivers to raise an army to escort the young +King safely to London. But, Lord Hastings, who was of the Court party opposed +to the Woodvilles, and who disliked the thought of giving them that power, +argued against the proposal, and obliged the Queen to be satisfied with an +escort of two thousand horse. The Duke of Gloucester did nothing, at first, to +justify suspicion. He came from Scotland (where he was commanding an army) to +York, and was there the first to swear allegiance to his nephew. He then wrote +a condoling letter to the Queen-Mother, and set off to be present at the +coronation in London. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the young King, journeying towards London too, with Lord Rivers and Lord +Gray, came to Stony Stratford, as his uncle came to Northampton, about ten +miles distant; and when those two lords heard that the Duke of Gloucester was +so near, they proposed to the young King that they should go back and greet him +in his name. The boy being very willing that they should do so, they rode off +and were received with great friendliness, and asked by the Duke of Gloucester +to stay and dine with him. In the evening, while they were merry together, up +came the Duke of Buckingham with three hundred horsemen; and next morning the +two lords and the two dukes, and the three hundred horsemen, rode away together +to rejoin the King. Just as they were entering Stony Stratford, the Duke of +Gloucester, checking his horse, turned suddenly on the two lords, charged them +with alienating from him the affections of his sweet nephew, and caused them to +be arrested by the three hundred horsemen and taken back. Then, he and the Duke +of Buckingham went straight to the King (whom they had now in their power), to +whom they made a show of kneeling down, and offering great love and submission; +and then they ordered his attendants to disperse, and took him, alone with +them, to Northampton. +</p> + +<p> +A few days afterwards they conducted him to London, and lodged him in the +Bishop’s Palace. But, he did not remain there long; for, the Duke of +Buckingham with a tender face made a speech expressing how anxious he was for +the Royal boy’s safety, and how much safer he would be in the Tower until +his coronation, than he could be anywhere else. So, to the Tower he was taken, +very carefully, and the Duke of Gloucester was named Protector of the State. +</p> + +<p> +Although Gloucester had proceeded thus far with a very smooth +countenance—and although he was a clever man, fair of speech, and not +ill-looking, in spite of one of his shoulders being something higher than the +other—and although he had come into the City riding bare-headed at the +King’s side, and looking very fond of him—he had made the +King’s mother more uneasy yet; and when the Royal boy was taken to the +Tower, she became so alarmed that she took sanctuary in Westminster with her +five daughters. +</p> + +<p> +Nor did she do this without reason, for, the Duke of Gloucester, finding that +the lords who were opposed to the Woodville family were faithful to the young +King nevertheless, quickly resolved to strike a blow for himself. Accordingly, +while those lords met in council at the Tower, he and those who were in his +interest met in separate council at his own residence, Crosby Palace, in +Bishopsgate Street. Being at last quite prepared, he one day appeared +unexpectedly at the council in the Tower, and appeared to be very jocular and +merry. He was particularly gay with the Bishop of Ely: praising the +strawberries that grew in his garden on Holborn Hill, and asking him to have +some gathered that he might eat them at dinner. The Bishop, quite proud of the +honour, sent one of his men to fetch some; and the Duke, still very jocular and +gay, went out; and the council all said what a very agreeable duke he was! In a +little time, however, he came back quite altered—not at all +jocular—frowning and fierce—and suddenly said,— +</p> + +<p> +‘What do those persons deserve who have compassed my destruction; I being +the King’s lawful, as well as natural, protector?’ +</p> + +<p> +To this strange question, Lord Hastings replied, that they deserved death, +whosoever they were. +</p> + +<p> +‘Then,’ said the Duke, ‘I tell you that they are that +sorceress my brother’s wife;’ meaning the Queen: ‘and that +other sorceress, Jane Shore. Who, by witchcraft, have withered my body, and +caused my arm to shrink as I now show you.’ +</p> + +<p> +He then pulled up his sleeve and showed them his arm, which was shrunken, it is +true, but which had been so, as they all very well knew, from the hour of his +birth. +</p> + +<p> +Jane Shore, being then the lover of Lord Hastings, as she had formerly been of +the late King, that lord knew that he himself was attacked. So, he said, in +some confusion, ‘Certainly, my Lord, if they have done this, they be +worthy of punishment.’ +</p> + +<p> +‘If?’ said the Duke of Gloucester; ‘do you talk to me of ifs? +I tell you that they <i>have</i> so done, and I will make it good upon thy +body, thou traitor!’ +</p> + +<p> +With that, he struck the table a great blow with his fist. This was a signal to +some of his people outside to cry ‘Treason!’ They immediately did +so, and there was a rush into the chamber of so many armed men that it was +filled in a moment. +</p> + +<p> +‘First,’ said the Duke of Gloucester to Lord Hastings, ‘I +arrest thee, traitor! And let him,’ he added to the armed men who took +him, ‘have a priest at once, for by St. Paul I will not dine until I have +seen his head of!’ +</p> + +<p> +Lord Hastings was hurried to the green by the Tower chapel, and there beheaded +on a log of wood that happened to be lying on the ground. Then, the Duke dined +with a good appetite, and after dinner summoning the principal citizens to +attend him, told them that Lord Hastings and the rest had designed to murder +both himself and the Duke if Buckingham, who stood by his side, if he had not +providentially discovered their design. He requested them to be so obliging as +to inform their fellow-citizens of the truth of what he said, and issued a +proclamation (prepared and neatly copied out beforehand) to the same effect. +</p> + +<p> +On the same day that the Duke did these things in the Tower, Sir Richard +Ratcliffe, the boldest and most undaunted of his men, went down to Pontefract; +arrested Lord Rivers, Lord Gray, and two other gentlemen; and publicly executed +them on the scaffold, without any trial, for having intended the Duke’s +death. Three days afterwards the Duke, not to lose time, went down the river to +Westminster in his barge, attended by divers bishops, lords, and soldiers, and +demanded that the Queen should deliver her second son, the Duke of York, into +his safe keeping. The Queen, being obliged to comply, resigned the child after +she had wept over him; and Richard of Gloucester placed him with his brother in +the Tower. Then, he seized Jane Shore, and, because she had been the lover of +the late King, confiscated her property, and got her sentenced to do public +penance in the streets by walking in a scanty dress, with bare feet, and +carrying a lighted candle, to St. Paul’s Cathedral, through the most +crowded part of the City. +</p> + +<p> +Having now all things ready for his own advancement, he caused a friar to +preach a sermon at the cross which stood in front of St. Paul’s +Cathedral, in which he dwelt upon the profligate manners of the late King, and +upon the late shame of Jane Shore, and hinted that the princes were not his +children. ‘Whereas, good people,’ said the friar, whose name was +<span class="smcap">Shaw</span>, ‘my Lord the Protector, the noble Duke +of Gloucester, that sweet prince, the pattern of all the noblest virtues, is +the perfect image and express likeness of his father.’ There had been a +little plot between the Duke and the friar, that the Duke should appear in the +crowd at this moment, when it was expected that the people would cry +‘Long live King Richard!’ But, either through the friar saying the +words too soon, or through the Duke’s coming too late, the Duke and the +words did not come together, and the people only laughed, and the friar sneaked +off ashamed. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Buckingham was a better hand at such business than the friar, so he +went to the Guildhall the next day, and addressed the citizens in the Lord +Protector’s behalf. A few dirty men, who had been hired and stationed +there for the purpose, crying when he had done, ‘God save King +Richard!’ he made them a great bow, and thanked them with all his heart. +Next day, to make an end of it, he went with the mayor and some lords and +citizens to Bayard Castle, by the river, where Richard then was, and read an +address, humbly entreating him to accept the Crown of England. Richard, who +looked down upon them out of a window and pretended to be in great uneasiness +and alarm, assured them there was nothing he desired less, and that his deep +affection for his nephews forbade him to think of it. To this the Duke of +Buckingham replied, with pretended warmth, that the free people of England +would never submit to his nephew’s rule, and that if Richard, who was the +lawful heir, refused the Crown, why then they must find some one else to wear +it. The Duke of Gloucester returned, that since he used that strong language, +it became his painful duty to think no more of himself, and to accept the +Crown. +</p> + +<p> +Upon that, the people cheered and dispersed; and the Duke of Gloucester and the +Duke of Buckingham passed a pleasant evening, talking over the play they had +just acted with so much success, and every word of which they had prepared +together. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap25"></a>CHAPTER XXV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER RICHARD THE THIRD</h2> + +<p> +King Richard the Third was up betimes in the morning, and went to Westminster +Hall. In the Hall was a marble seat, upon which he sat himself down between two +great noblemen, and told the people that he began the new reign in that place, +because the first duty of a sovereign was to administer the laws equally to +all, and to maintain justice. He then mounted his horse and rode back to the +City, where he was received by the clergy and the crowd as if he really had a +right to the throne, and really were a just man. The clergy and the crowd must +have been rather ashamed of themselves in secret, I think, for being such +poor-spirited knaves. +</p> + +<p> +The new King and his Queen were soon crowned with a great deal of show and +noise, which the people liked very much; and then the King set forth on a royal +progress through his dominions. He was crowned a second time at York, in order +that the people might have show and noise enough; and wherever he went was +received with shouts of rejoicing—from a good many people of strong +lungs, who were paid to strain their throats in crying, ‘God save King +Richard!’ The plan was so successful that I am told it has been imitated +since, by other usurpers, in other progresses through other dominions. +</p> + +<p> +While he was on this journey, King Richard stayed a week at Warwick. And from +Warwick he sent instructions home for one of the wickedest murders that ever +was done—the murder of the two young princes, his nephews, who were shut +up in the Tower of London. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Robert Brackenbury was at that time Governor of the Tower. To him, by the +hands of a messenger named <span class="smcap">John Green</span>, did King +Richard send a letter, ordering him by some means to put the two young princes +to death. But Sir Robert—I hope because he had children of his own, and +loved them—sent John Green back again, riding and spurring along the +dusty roads, with the answer that he could not do so horrible a piece of work. +The King, having frowningly considered a little, called to him <span +class="smcap">Sir James Tyrrel</span>, his master of the horse, and to him gave +authority to take command of the Tower, whenever he would, for twenty-four +hours, and to keep all the keys of the Tower during that space of time. Tyrrel, +well knowing what was wanted, looked about him for two hardened ruffians, and +chose <span class="smcap">John Dighton</span>, one of his own grooms, and <span +class="smcap">Miles Forest</span>, who was a murderer by trade. Having secured +these two assistants, he went, upon a day in August, to the Tower, showed his +authority from the King, took the command for four-and-twenty hours, and +obtained possession of the keys. And when the black night came he went +creeping, creeping, like a guilty villain as he was, up the dark, stone winding +stairs, and along the dark stone passages, until he came to the door of the +room where the two young princes, having said their prayers, lay fast asleep, +clasped in each other’s arms. And while he watched and listened at the +door, he sent in those evil demons, John Dighton and Miles Forest, who +smothered the two princes with the bed and pillows, and carried their bodies +down the stairs, and buried them under a great heap of stones at the staircase +foot. And when the day came, he gave up the command of the Tower, and restored +the keys, and hurried away without once looking behind him; and Sir Robert +Brackenbury went with fear and sadness to the princes’ room, and found +the princes gone for ever. +</p> + +<p> +You know, through all this history, how true it is that traitors are never +true, and you will not be surprised to learn that the Duke of Buckingham soon +turned against King Richard, and joined a great conspiracy that was formed to +dethrone him, and to place the crown upon its rightful owner’s head. +Richard had meant to keep the murder secret; but when he heard through his +spies that this conspiracy existed, and that many lords and gentlemen drank in +secret to the healths of the two young princes in the Tower, he made it known +that they were dead. The conspirators, though thwarted for a moment, soon +resolved to set up for the crown against the murderous Richard, <span +class="smcap">Henry</span> Earl of Richmond, grandson of Catherine: that widow +of Henry the Fifth who married Owen Tudor. And as Henry was of the house of +Lancaster, they proposed that he should marry the Princess Elizabeth, the +eldest daughter of the late King, now the heiress of the house of York, and +thus by uniting the rival families put an end to the fatal wars of the Red and +White Roses. All being settled, a time was appointed for Henry to come over +from Brittany, and for a great rising against Richard to take place in several +parts of England at the same hour. On a certain day, therefore, in October, the +revolt took place; but unsuccessfully. Richard was prepared, Henry was driven +back at sea by a storm, his followers in England were dispersed, and the Duke +of Buckingham was taken, and at once beheaded in the market-place at Salisbury. +</p> + +<p> +The time of his success was a good time, Richard thought, for summoning a +Parliament and getting some money. So, a Parliament was called, and it +flattered and fawned upon him as much as he could possibly desire, and declared +him to be the rightful King of England, and his only son Edward, then eleven +years of age, the next heir to the throne. +</p> + +<p> +Richard knew full well that, let the Parliament say what it would, the Princess +Elizabeth was remembered by people as the heiress of the house of York; and +having accurate information besides, of its being designed by the conspirators +to marry her to Henry of Richmond, he felt that it would much strengthen him +and weaken them, to be beforehand with them, and marry her to his son. With +this view he went to the Sanctuary at Westminster, where the late King’s +widow and her daughter still were, and besought them to come to Court: where +(he swore by anything and everything) they should be safely and honourably +entertained. They came, accordingly, but had scarcely been at Court a month +when his son died suddenly—or was poisoned—and his plan was crushed +to pieces. +</p> + +<p> +In this extremity, King Richard, always active, thought, ‘I must make +another plan.’ And he made the plan of marrying the Princess Elizabeth +himself, although she was his niece. There was one difficulty in the way: his +wife, the Queen Anne, was alive. But, he knew (remembering his nephews) how to +remove that obstacle, and he made love to the Princess Elizabeth, telling her +he felt perfectly confident that the Queen would die in February. The Princess +was not a very scrupulous young lady, for, instead of rejecting the murderer of +her brothers with scorn and hatred, she openly declared she loved him dearly; +and, when February came and the Queen did not die, she expressed her impatient +opinion that she was too long about it. However, King Richard was not so far +out in his prediction, but, that she died in March—he took good care of +that—and then this precious pair hoped to be married. But they were +disappointed, for the idea of such a marriage was so unpopular in the country, +that the King’s chief counsellors, <span class="smcap">Ratcliffe</span> +and <span class="smcap">Catesby</span>, would by no means undertake to propose +it, and the King was even obliged to declare in public that he had never +thought of such a thing. +</p> + +<p> +He was, by this time, dreaded and hated by all classes of his subjects. His +nobles deserted every day to Henry’s side; he dared not call another +Parliament, lest his crimes should be denounced there; and for want of money, +he was obliged to get Benevolences from the citizens, which exasperated them +all against him. It was said too, that, being stricken by his conscience, he +dreamed frightful dreams, and started up in the night-time, wild with terror +and remorse. Active to the last, through all this, he issued vigorous +proclamations against Henry of Richmond and all his followers, when he heard +that they were coming against him with a Fleet from France; and took the field +as fierce and savage as a wild boar—the animal represented on his shield. +</p> + +<p> +Henry of Richmond landed with six thousand men at Milford Haven, and came on +against King Richard, then encamped at Leicester with an army twice as great, +through North Wales. On Bosworth Field the two armies met; and Richard, looking +along Henry’s ranks, and seeing them crowded with the English nobles who +had abandoned him, turned pale when he beheld the powerful Lord Stanley and his +son (whom he had tried hard to retain) among them. But, he was as brave as he +was wicked, and plunged into the thickest of the fight. He was riding hither +and thither, laying about him in all directions, when he observed the Earl of +Northumberland—one of his few great allies—to stand inactive, and +the main body of his troops to hesitate. At the same moment, his desperate +glance caught Henry of Richmond among a little group of his knights. Riding +hard at him, and crying ‘Treason!’ he killed his standard-bearer, +fiercely unhorsed another gentleman, and aimed a powerful stroke at Henry +himself, to cut him down. But, Sir William Stanley parried it as it fell, and +before Richard could raise his arm again, he was borne down in a press of +numbers, unhorsed, and killed. Lord Stanley picked up the crown, all bruised +and trampled, and stained with blood, and put it upon Richmond’s head, +amid loud and rejoicing cries of ‘Long live King Henry!’ +</p> + +<p> +That night, a horse was led up to the church of the Grey Friars at Leicester; +across whose back was tied, like some worthless sack, a naked body brought +there for burial. It was the body of the last of the Plantagenet line, King +Richard the Third, usurper and murderer, slain at the battle of Bosworth Field +in the thirty-second year of his age, after a reign of two years. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap26"></a>CHAPTER XXVI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE SEVENTH</h2> + +<p> +King Henry the Seventh did not turn out to be as fine a fellow as the nobility +and people hoped, in the first joy of their deliverance from Richard the Third. +He was very cold, crafty, and calculating, and would do almost anything for +money. He possessed considerable ability, but his chief merit appears to have +been that he was not cruel when there was nothing to be got by it. +</p> + +<p> +The new King had promised the nobles who had espoused his cause that he would +marry the Princess Elizabeth. The first thing he did, was, to direct her to be +removed from the castle of Sheriff Hutton in Yorkshire, where Richard had +placed her, and restored to the care of her mother in London. The young Earl of +Warwick, Edward Plantagenet, son and heir of the late Duke of Clarence, had +been kept a prisoner in the same old Yorkshire Castle with her. This boy, who +was now fifteen, the new King placed in the Tower for safety. Then he came to +London in great state, and gratified the people with a fine procession; on +which kind of show he often very much relied for keeping them in good humour. +The sports and feasts which took place were followed by a terrible fever, +called the Sweating Sickness; of which great numbers of people died. Lord +Mayors and Aldermen are thought to have suffered most from it; whether, because +they were in the habit of over-eating themselves, or because they were very +jealous of preserving filth and nuisances in the City (as they have been +since), I don’t know. +</p> + +<p> +The King’s coronation was postponed on account of the general ill-health, +and he afterwards deferred his marriage, as if he were not very anxious that it +should take place: and, even after that, deferred the Queen’s coronation +so long that he gave offence to the York party. However, he set these things +right in the end, by hanging some men and seizing on the rich possessions of +others; by granting more popular pardons to the followers of the late King than +could, at first, be got from him; and, by employing about his Court, some very +scrupulous persons who had been employed in the previous reign. +</p> + +<p> +As this reign was principally remarkable for two very curious impostures which +have become famous in history, we will make those two stories its principal +feature. +</p> + +<p> +There was a priest at Oxford of the name of Simons, who had for a pupil a +handsome boy named Lambert Simnel, the son of a baker. Partly to gratify his +own ambitious ends, and partly to carry out the designs of a secret party +formed against the King, this priest declared that his pupil, the boy, was no +other than the young Earl of Warwick; who (as everybody might have known) was +safely locked up in the Tower of London. The priest and the boy went over to +Ireland; and, at Dublin, enlisted in their cause all ranks of the people: who +seem to have been generous enough, but exceedingly irrational. The Earl of +Kildare, the governor of Ireland, declared that he believed the boy to be what +the priest represented; and the boy, who had been well tutored by the priest, +told them such things of his childhood, and gave them so many descriptions of +the Royal Family, that they were perpetually shouting and hurrahing, and +drinking his health, and making all kinds of noisy and thirsty demonstrations, +to express their belief in him. Nor was this feeling confined to Ireland alone, +for the Earl of Lincoln—whom the late usurper had named as his +successor—went over to the young Pretender; and, after holding a secret +correspondence with the Dowager Duchess of Burgundy—the sister of Edward +the Fourth, who detested the present King and all his race—sailed to +Dublin with two thousand German soldiers of her providing. In this promising +state of the boy’s fortunes, he was crowned there, with a crown taken off +the head of a statue of the Virgin Mary; and was then, according to the Irish +custom of those days, carried home on the shoulders of a big chieftain +possessing a great deal more strength than sense. Father Simons, you may be +sure, was mighty busy at the coronation. +</p> + +<p> +Ten days afterwards, the Germans, and the Irish, and the priest, and the boy, +and the Earl of Lincoln, all landed in Lancashire to invade England. The King, +who had good intelligence of their movements, set up his standard at +Nottingham, where vast numbers resorted to him every day; while the Earl of +Lincoln could gain but very few. With his small force he tried to make for the +town of Newark; but the King’s army getting between him and that place, +he had no choice but to risk a battle at Stoke. It soon ended in the complete +destruction of the Pretender’s forces, one half of whom were killed; +among them, the Earl himself. The priest and the baker’s boy were taken +prisoners. The priest, after confessing the trick, was shut up in prison, where +he afterwards died—suddenly perhaps. The boy was taken into the +King’s kitchen and made a turnspit. He was afterwards raised to the +station of one of the King’s falconers; and so ended this strange +imposition. +</p> + +<p> +There seems reason to suspect that the Dowager Queen—always a restless +and busy woman—had had some share in tutoring the baker’s son. The +King was very angry with her, whether or no. He seized upon her property, and +shut her up in a convent at Bermondsey. +</p> + +<p> +One might suppose that the end of this story would have put the Irish people on +their guard; but they were quite ready to receive a second impostor, as they +had received the first, and that same troublesome Duchess of Burgundy soon gave +them the opportunity. All of a sudden there appeared at Cork, in a vessel +arriving from Portugal, a young man of excellent abilities, of very handsome +appearance and most winning manners, who declared himself to be Richard, Duke +of York, the second son of King Edward the Fourth. ‘O,’ said some, +even of those ready Irish believers, ‘but surely that young Prince was +murdered by his uncle in the Tower!’—‘It <i>is</i> supposed +so,’ said the engaging young man; ‘and my brother <i>was</i> killed +in that gloomy prison; but I escaped—it don’t matter how, at +present—and have been wandering about the world for seven long +years.’ This explanation being quite satisfactory to numbers of the Irish +people, they began again to shout and to hurrah, and to drink his health, and +to make the noisy and thirsty demonstrations all over again. And the big +chieftain in Dublin began to look out for another coronation, and another young +King to be carried home on his back. +</p> + +<p> +Now, King Henry being then on bad terms with France, the French King, Charles +the Eighth, saw that, by pretending to believe in the handsome young man, he +could trouble his enemy sorely. So, he invited him over to the French Court, +and appointed him a body-guard, and treated him in all respects as if he really +were the Duke of York. Peace, however, being soon concluded between the two +Kings, the pretended Duke was turned adrift, and wandered for protection to the +Duchess of Burgundy. She, after feigning to inquire into the reality of his +claims, declared him to be the very picture of her dear departed brother; gave +him a body-guard at her Court, of thirty halberdiers; and called him by the +sounding name of the White Rose of England. +</p> + +<p> +The leading members of the White Rose party in England sent over an agent, +named Sir Robert Clifford, to ascertain whether the White Rose’s claims +were good: the King also sent over his agents to inquire into the Rose’s +history. The White Roses declared the young man to be really the Duke of York; +the King declared him to be <span class="smcap">Perkin Warbeck</span>, the son +of a merchant of the city of Tournay, who had acquired his knowledge of +England, its language and manners, from the English merchants who traded in +Flanders; it was also stated by the Royal agents that he had been in the +service of Lady Brompton, the wife of an exiled English nobleman, and that the +Duchess of Burgundy had caused him to be trained and taught, expressly for this +deception. The King then required the Archduke Philip—who was the +sovereign of Burgundy—to banish this new Pretender, or to deliver him up; +but, as the Archduke replied that he could not control the Duchess in her own +land, the King, in revenge, took the market of English cloth away from Antwerp, +and prevented all commercial intercourse between the two countries. +</p> + +<p> +He also, by arts and bribes, prevailed on Sir Robert Clifford to betray his +employers; and he denouncing several famous English noblemen as being secretly +the friends of Perkin Warbeck, the King had three of the foremost executed at +once. Whether he pardoned the remainder because they were poor, I do not know; +but it is only too probable that he refused to pardon one famous nobleman +against whom the same Clifford soon afterwards informed separately, because he +was rich. This was no other than Sir William Stanley, who had saved the +King’s life at the battle of Bosworth Field. It is very doubtful whether +his treason amounted to much more than his having said, that if he were sure +the young man was the Duke of York, he would not take arms against him. +Whatever he had done he admitted, like an honourable spirit; and he lost his +head for it, and the covetous King gained all his wealth. +</p> + +<p> +Perkin Warbeck kept quiet for three years; but, as the Flemings began to +complain heavily of the loss of their trade by the stoppage of the Antwerp +market on his account, and as it was not unlikely that they might even go so +far as to take his life, or give him up, he found it necessary to do something. +Accordingly he made a desperate sally, and landed, with only a few hundred men, +on the coast of Deal. But he was soon glad to get back to the place from whence +he came; for the country people rose against his followers, killed a great +many, and took a hundred and fifty prisoners: who were all driven to London, +tied together with ropes, like a team of cattle. Every one of them was hanged +on some part or other of the sea-shore; in order, that if any more men should +come over with Perkin Warbeck, they might see the bodies as a warning before +they landed. +</p> + +<p> +Then the wary King, by making a treaty of commerce with the Flemings, drove +Perkin Warbeck out of that country; and, by completely gaining over the Irish +to his side, deprived him of that asylum too. He wandered away to Scotland, and +told his story at that Court. King James the Fourth of Scotland, who was no +friend to King Henry, and had no reason to be (for King Henry had bribed his +Scotch lords to betray him more than once; but had never succeeded in his +plots), gave him a great reception, called him his cousin, and gave him in +marriage the Lady Catherine Gordon, a beautiful and charming creature related +to the royal house of Stuart. +</p> + +<p> +Alarmed by this successful reappearance of the Pretender, the King still +undermined, and bought, and bribed, and kept his doings and Perkin +Warbeck’s story in the dark, when he might, one would imagine, have +rendered the matter clear to all England. But, for all this bribing of the +Scotch lords at the Scotch King’s Court, he could not procure the +Pretender to be delivered up to him. James, though not very particular in many +respects, would not betray him; and the ever-busy Duchess of Burgundy so +provided him with arms, and good soldiers, and with money besides, that he had +soon a little army of fifteen hundred men of various nations. With these, and +aided by the Scottish King in person, he crossed the border into England, and +made a proclamation to the people, in which he called the King ‘Henry +Tudor;’ offered large rewards to any who should take or distress him; and +announced himself as King Richard the Fourth come to receive the homage of his +faithful subjects. His faithful subjects, however, cared nothing for him, and +hated his faithful troops: who, being of different nations, quarrelled also +among themselves. Worse than this, if worse were possible, they began to +plunder the country; upon which the White Rose said, that he would rather lose +his rights, than gain them through the miseries of the English people. The +Scottish King made a jest of his scruples; but they and their whole force went +back again without fighting a battle. +</p> + +<p> +The worst consequence of this attempt was, that a rising took place among the +people of Cornwall, who considered themselves too heavily taxed to meet the +charges of the expected war. Stimulated by Flammock, a lawyer, and Joseph, a +blacksmith, and joined by Lord Audley and some other country gentlemen, they +marched on all the way to Deptford Bridge, where they fought a battle with the +King’s army. They were defeated—though the Cornish men fought with +great bravery—and the lord was beheaded, and the lawyer and the +blacksmith were hanged, drawn, and quartered. The rest were pardoned. The King, +who believed every man to be as avaricious as himself, and thought that money +could settle anything, allowed them to make bargains for their liberty with the +soldiers who had taken them. +</p> + +<p> +Perkin Warbeck, doomed to wander up and down, and never to find rest +anywhere—a sad fate: almost a sufficient punishment for an imposture, +which he seems in time to have half believed himself—lost his Scottish +refuge through a truce being made between the two Kings; and found himself, +once more, without a country before him in which he could lay his head. But +James (always honourable and true to him, alike when he melted down his plate, +and even the great gold chain he had been used to wear, to pay soldiers in his +cause; and now, when that cause was lost and hopeless) did not conclude the +treaty, until he had safely departed out of the Scottish dominions. He, and his +beautiful wife, who was faithful to him under all reverses, and left her state +and home to follow his poor fortunes, were put aboard ship with everything +necessary for their comfort and protection, and sailed for Ireland. +</p> + +<p> +But, the Irish people had had enough of counterfeit Earls of Warwick and Dukes +of York, for one while; and would give the White Rose no aid. So, the White +Rose—encircled by thorns indeed—resolved to go with his beautiful +wife to Cornwall as a forlorn resource, and see what might be made of the +Cornish men, who had risen so valiantly a little while before, and who had +fought so bravely at Deptford Bridge. +</p> + +<p> +To Whitsand Bay, in Cornwall, accordingly, came Perkin Warbeck and his wife; +and the lovely lady he shut up for safety in the Castle of St. Michael’s +Mount, and then marched into Devonshire at the head of three thousand +Cornishmen. These were increased to six thousand by the time of his arrival in +Exeter; but, there the people made a stout resistance, and he went on to +Taunton, where he came in sight of the King’s army. The stout Cornish +men, although they were few in number, and badly armed, were so bold, that they +never thought of retreating; but bravely looked forward to a battle on the +morrow. Unhappily for them, the man who was possessed of so many engaging +qualities, and who attracted so many people to his side when he had nothing +else with which to tempt them, was not as brave as they. In the night, when the +two armies lay opposite to each other, he mounted a swift horse and fled. When +morning dawned, the poor confiding Cornish men, discovering that they had no +leader, surrendered to the King’s power. Some of them were hanged, and +the rest were pardoned and went miserably home. +</p> + +<p> +Before the King pursued Perkin Warbeck to the sanctuary of Beaulieu in the New +Forest, where it was soon known that he had taken refuge, he sent a body of +horsemen to St. Michael’s Mount, to seize his wife. She was soon taken +and brought as a captive before the King. But she was so beautiful, and so +good, and so devoted to the man in whom she believed, that the King regarded +her with compassion, treated her with great respect, and placed her at Court, +near the Queen’s person. And many years after Perkin Warbeck was no more, +and when his strange story had become like a nursery tale, <i>she</i> was +called the White Rose, by the people, in remembrance of her beauty. +</p> + +<p> +The sanctuary at Beaulieu was soon surrounded by the King’s men; and the +King, pursuing his usual dark, artful ways, sent pretended friends to Perkin +Warbeck to persuade him to come out and surrender himself. This he soon did; +the King having taken a good look at the man of whom he had heard so +much—from behind a screen—directed him to be well mounted, and to +ride behind him at a little distance, guarded, but not bound in any way. So +they entered London with the King’s favourite show—a procession; +and some of the people hooted as the Pretender rode slowly through the streets +to the Tower; but the greater part were quiet, and very curious to see him. +From the Tower, he was taken to the Palace at Westminster, and there lodged +like a gentleman, though closely watched. He was examined every now and then as +to his imposture; but the King was so secret in all he did, that even then he +gave it a consequence, which it cannot be supposed to have in itself deserved. +</p> + +<p> +At last Perkin Warbeck ran away, and took refuge in another sanctuary near +Richmond in Surrey. From this he was again persuaded to deliver himself up; +and, being conveyed to London, he stood in the stocks for a whole day, outside +Westminster Hall, and there read a paper purporting to be his full confession, +and relating his history as the King’s agents had originally described +it. He was then shut up in the Tower again, in the company of the Earl of +Warwick, who had now been there for fourteen years: ever since his removal out +of Yorkshire, except when the King had had him at Court, and had shown him to +the people, to prove the imposture of the Baker’s boy. It is but too +probable, when we consider the crafty character of Henry the Seventh, that +these two were brought together for a cruel purpose. A plot was soon discovered +between them and the keepers, to murder the Governor, get possession of the +keys, and proclaim Perkin Warbeck as King Richard the Fourth. That there was +some such plot, is likely; that they were tempted into it, is at least as +likely; that the unfortunate Earl of Warwick—last male of the Plantagenet +line—was too unused to the world, and too ignorant and simple to know +much about it, whatever it was, is perfectly certain; and that it was the +King’s interest to get rid of him, is no less so. He was beheaded on +Tower Hill, and Perkin Warbeck was hanged at Tyburn. +</p> + +<p> +Such was the end of the pretended Duke of York, whose shadowy history was made +more shadowy—and ever will be—by the mystery and craft of the King. +If he had turned his great natural advantages to a more honest account, he +might have lived a happy and respected life, even in those days. But he died +upon a gallows at Tyburn, leaving the Scottish lady, who had loved him so well, +kindly protected at the Queen’s Court. After some time she forgot her old +loves and troubles, as many people do with Time’s merciful assistance, +and married a Welsh gentleman. Her second husband, <span class="smcap">Sir +Matthew Cradoc</span>, more honest and more happy than her first, lies beside +her in a tomb in the old church of Swansea. +</p> + +<p> +The ill-blood between France and England in this reign, arose out of the +continued plotting of the Duchess of Burgundy, and disputes respecting the +affairs of Brittany. The King feigned to be very patriotic, indignant, and +warlike; but he always contrived so as never to make war in reality, and always +to make money. His taxation of the people, on pretence of war with France, +involved, at one time, a very dangerous insurrection, headed by Sir John +Egremont, and a common man called John à Chambre. But it was subdued by +the royal forces, under the command of the Earl of Surrey. The knighted John +escaped to the Duchess of Burgundy, who was ever ready to receive any one who +gave the King trouble; and the plain John was hanged at York, in the midst of a +number of his men, but on a much higher gibbet, as being a greater traitor. +Hung high or hung low, however, hanging is much the same to the person hung. +</p> + +<p> +Within a year after her marriage, the Queen had given birth to a son, who was +called Prince Arthur, in remembrance of the old British prince of romance and +story; and who, when all these events had happened, being then in his fifteenth +year, was married to <span class="smcap">Catherine</span>, the daughter of the +Spanish monarch, with great rejoicings and bright prospects; but in a very few +months he sickened and died. As soon as the King had recovered from his grief, +he thought it a pity that the fortune of the Spanish Princess, amounting to two +hundred thousand crowns, should go out of the family; and therefore arranged +that the young widow should marry his second son <span +class="smcap">Henry</span>, then twelve years of age, when he too should be +fifteen. There were objections to this marriage on the part of the clergy; but, +as the infallible Pope was gained over, and, as he <i>must</i> be right, that +settled the business for the time. The King’s eldest daughter was +provided for, and a long course of disturbance was considered to be set at +rest, by her being married to the Scottish King. +</p> + +<p> +And now the Queen died. When the King had got over that grief too, his mind +once more reverted to his darling money for consolation, and he thought of +marrying the Dowager Queen of Naples, who was immensely rich: but, as it turned +out not to be practicable to gain the money however practicable it might have +been to gain the lady, he gave up the idea. He was not so fond of her but that +he soon proposed to marry the Dowager Duchess of Savoy; and, soon afterwards, +the widow of the King of Castile, who was raving mad. But he made a +money-bargain instead, and married neither. +</p> + +<p> +The Duchess of Burgundy, among the other discontented people to whom she had +given refuge, had sheltered <span class="smcap">Edmund de la Pole</span> +(younger brother of that Earl of Lincoln who was killed at Stoke), now Earl of +Suffolk. The King had prevailed upon him to return to the marriage of Prince +Arthur; but, he soon afterwards went away again; and then the King, suspecting +a conspiracy, resorted to his favourite plan of sending him some treacherous +friends, and buying of those scoundrels the secrets they disclosed or invented. +Some arrests and executions took place in consequence. In the end, the King, on +a promise of not taking his life, obtained possession of the person of Edmund +de la Pole, and shut him up in the Tower. +</p> + +<p> +This was his last enemy. If he had lived much longer he would have made many +more among the people, by the grinding exaction to which he constantly exposed +them, and by the tyrannical acts of his two prime favourites in all +money-raising matters, <span class="smcap">Edmund Dudley</span> and <span +class="smcap">Richard Empson</span>. But Death—the enemy who is not to be +bought off or deceived, and on whom no money, and no treachery has any +effect—presented himself at this juncture, and ended the King’s +reign. He died of the gout, on the twenty-second of April, one thousand five +hundred and nine, and in the fifty-third year of his age, after reigning +twenty-four years; he was buried in the beautiful Chapel of Westminster Abbey, +which he had himself founded, and which still bears his name. +</p> + +<p> +It was in this reign that the great <span class="smcap">Christopher +Columbus</span>, on behalf of Spain, discovered what was then called The New +World. Great wonder, interest, and hope of wealth being awakened in England +thereby, the King and the merchants of London and Bristol fitted out an English +expedition for further discoveries in the New World, and entrusted it to <span +class="smcap">Sebastian Cabot</span>, of Bristol, the son of a Venetian pilot +there. He was very successful in his voyage, and gained high reputation, both +for himself and England. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap27"></a>CHAPTER XXVII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE EIGHTH, CALLED BLUFF KING HAL AND BURLY KING HARRY</h2> + +<h3>PART THE FIRST</h3> + +<p> +We now come to King Henry the Eighth, whom it has been too much the fashion to +call ‘Bluff King Hal,’ and ‘Burly King Harry,’ and +other fine names; but whom I shall take the liberty to call, plainly, one of +the most detestable villains that ever drew breath. You will be able to judge, +long before we come to the end of his life, whether he deserves the character. +</p> + +<p> +He was just eighteen years of age when he came to the throne. People said he +was handsome then; but I don’t believe it. He was a big, burly, noisy, +small-eyed, large-faced, double-chinned, swinish-looking fellow in later life +(as we know from the likenesses of him, painted by the famous <span +class="smcap">Hans Holbein</span>), and it is not easy to believe that so bad a +character can ever have been veiled under a prepossessing appearance. +</p> + +<p> +He was anxious to make himself popular; and the people, who had long disliked +the late King, were very willing to believe that he deserved to be so. He was +extremely fond of show and display, and so were they. Therefore there was great +rejoicing when he married the Princess Catherine, and when they were both +crowned. And the King fought at tournaments and always came off +victorious—for the courtiers took care of that—and there was a +general outcry that he was a wonderful man. Empson, Dudley, and their +supporters were accused of a variety of crimes they had never committed, +instead of the offences of which they really had been guilty; and they were +pilloried, and set upon horses with their faces to the tails, and knocked about +and beheaded, to the satisfaction of the people, and the enrichment of the +King. +</p> + +<p> +The Pope, so indefatigable in getting the world into trouble, had mixed himself +up in a war on the continent of Europe, occasioned by the reigning Princes of +little quarrelling states in Italy having at various times married into other +Royal families, and so led to <i>their</i> claiming a share in those petty +Governments. The King, who discovered that he was very fond of the Pope, sent a +herald to the King of France, to say that he must not make war upon that holy +personage, because he was the father of all Christians. As the French King did +not mind this relationship in the least, and also refused to admit a claim King +Henry made to certain lands in France, war was declared between the two +countries. Not to perplex this story with an account of the tricks and designs +of all the sovereigns who were engaged in it, it is enough to say that England +made a blundering alliance with Spain, and got stupidly taken in by that +country; which made its own terms with France when it could and left England in +the lurch. <span class="smcap">Sir Edward Howard</span>, a bold admiral, son of +the Earl of Surrey, distinguished himself by his bravery against the French in +this business; but, unfortunately, he was more brave than wise, for, skimming +into the French harbour of Brest with only a few row-boats, he attempted (in +revenge for the defeat and death of <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas +Knyvett</span>, another bold English admiral) to take some strong French ships, +well defended with batteries of cannon. The upshot was, that he was left on +board of one of them (in consequence of its shooting away from his own boat), +with not more than about a dozen men, and was thrown into the sea and drowned: +though not until he had taken from his breast his gold chain and gold whistle, +which were the signs of his office, and had cast them into the sea to prevent +their being made a boast of by the enemy. After this defeat—which was a +great one, for Sir Edward Howard was a man of valour and fame—the King +took it into his head to invade France in person; first executing that +dangerous Earl of Suffolk whom his father had left in the Tower, and appointing +Queen Catherine to the charge of his kingdom in his absence. He sailed to +Calais, where he was joined by <span class="smcap">Maximilian</span>, Emperor +of Germany, who pretended to be his soldier, and who took pay in his service: +with a good deal of nonsense of that sort, flattering enough to the vanity of a +vain blusterer. The King might be successful enough in sham fights; but his +idea of real battles chiefly consisted in pitching silken tents of bright +colours that were ignominiously blown down by the wind, and in making a vast +display of gaudy flags and golden curtains. Fortune, however, favoured him +better than he deserved; for, after much waste of time in tent pitching, flag +flying, gold curtaining, and other such masquerading, he gave the French battle +at a place called Guinegate: where they took such an unaccountable panic, and +fled with such swiftness, that it was ever afterwards called by the English the +Battle of Spurs. Instead of following up his advantage, the King, finding that +he had had enough of real fighting, came home again. +</p> + +<p> +The Scottish King, though nearly related to Henry by marriage, had taken part +against him in this war. The Earl of Surrey, as the English general, advanced +to meet him when he came out of his own dominions and crossed the river Tweed. +The two armies came up with one another when the Scottish King had also crossed +the river Till, and was encamped upon the last of the Cheviot Hills, called the +Hill of Flodden. Along the plain below it, the English, when the hour of battle +came, advanced. The Scottish army, which had been drawn up in five great +bodies, then came steadily down in perfect silence. So they, in their turn, +advanced to meet the English army, which came on in one long line; and they +attacked it with a body of spearmen, under <span class="smcap">Lord +Home</span>. At first they had the best of it; but the English recovered +themselves so bravely, and fought with such valour, that, when the Scottish +King had almost made his way up to the Royal Standard, he was slain, and the +whole Scottish power routed. Ten thousand Scottish men lay dead that day on +Flodden Field; and among them, numbers of the nobility and gentry. For a long +time afterwards, the Scottish peasantry used to believe that their King had not +been really killed in this battle, because no Englishman had found an iron belt +he wore about his body as a penance for having been an unnatural and undutiful +son. But, whatever became of his belt, the English had his sword and dagger, +and the ring from his finger, and his body too, covered with wounds. There is +no doubt of it; for it was seen and recognised by English gentlemen who had +known the Scottish King well. +</p> + +<p> +When King Henry was making ready to renew the war in France, the French King +was contemplating peace. His queen, dying at this time, he proposed, though he +was upwards of fifty years old, to marry King Henry’s sister, the +Princess Mary, who, besides being only sixteen, was betrothed to the Duke of +Suffolk. As the inclinations of young Princesses were not much considered in +such matters, the marriage was concluded, and the poor girl was escorted to +France, where she was immediately left as the French King’s bride, with +only one of all her English attendants. That one was a pretty young girl named +<span class="smcap">Anne Boleyn</span>, niece of the Earl of Surrey, who had +been made Duke of Norfolk, after the victory of Flodden Field. Anne +Boleyn’s is a name to be remembered, as you will presently find. +</p> + +<p> +And now the French King, who was very proud of his young wife, was preparing +for many years of happiness, and she was looking forward, I dare say, to many +years of misery, when he died within three months, and left her a young widow. +The new French monarch, <span class="smcap">Francis the First</span>, seeing +how important it was to his interests that she should take for her second +husband no one but an Englishman, advised her first lover, the Duke of Suffolk, +when King Henry sent him over to France to fetch her home, to marry her. The +Princess being herself so fond of that Duke, as to tell him that he must either +do so then, or for ever lose her, they were wedded; and Henry afterwards +forgave them. In making interest with the King, the Duke of Suffolk had +addressed his most powerful favourite and adviser, <span class="smcap">Thomas +Wolsey</span>—a name very famous in history for its rise and downfall. +</p> + +<p> +Wolsey was the son of a respectable butcher at Ipswich, in Suffolk and received +so excellent an education that he became a tutor to the family of the Marquis +of Dorset, who afterwards got him appointed one of the late King’s +chaplains. On the accession of Henry the Eighth, he was promoted and taken into +great favour. He was now Archbishop of York; the Pope had made him a Cardinal +besides; and whoever wanted influence in England or favour with the +King—whether he were a foreign monarch or an English nobleman—was +obliged to make a friend of the great Cardinal Wolsey. +</p> + +<p> +He was a gay man, who could dance and jest, and sing and drink; and those were +the roads to so much, or rather so little, of a heart as King Henry had. He was +wonderfully fond of pomp and glitter, and so was the King. He knew a good deal +of the Church learning of that time; much of which consisted in finding artful +excuses and pretences for almost any wrong thing, and in arguing that black was +white, or any other colour. This kind of learning pleased the King too. For +many such reasons, the Cardinal was high in estimation with the King; and, +being a man of far greater ability, knew as well how to manage him, as a clever +keeper may know how to manage a wolf or a tiger, or any other cruel and +uncertain beast, that may turn upon him and tear him any day. Never had there +been seen in England such state as my Lord Cardinal kept. His wealth was +enormous; equal, it was reckoned, to the riches of the Crown. His palaces were +as splendid as the King’s, and his retinue was eight hundred strong. He +held his Court, dressed out from top to toe in flaming scarlet; and his very +shoes were golden, set with precious stones. His followers rode on blood +horses; while he, with a wonderful affectation of humility in the midst of his +great splendour, ambled on a mule with a red velvet saddle and bridle and +golden stirrups. +</p> + +<p> +Through the influence of this stately priest, a grand meeting was arranged to +take place between the French and English Kings in France; but on ground +belonging to England. A prodigious show of friendship and rejoicing was to be +made on the occasion; and heralds were sent to proclaim with brazen trumpets +through all the principal cities of Europe, that, on a certain day, the Kings +of France and England, as companions and brothers in arms, each attended by +eighteen followers, would hold a tournament against all knights who might +choose to come. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Charles</span>, the new Emperor of Germany (the old one +being dead), wanted to prevent too cordial an alliance between these +sovereigns, and came over to England before the King could repair to the place +of meeting; and, besides making an agreeable impression upon him, secured +Wolsey’s interest by promising that his influence should make him Pope +when the next vacancy occurred. On the day when the Emperor left England, the +King and all the Court went over to Calais, and thence to the place of meeting, +between Ardres and Guisnes, commonly called the Field of the Cloth of Gold. +Here, all manner of expense and prodigality was lavished on the decorations of +the show; many of the knights and gentlemen being so superbly dressed that it +was said they carried their whole estates upon their shoulders. +</p> + +<p> +There were sham castles, temporary chapels, fountains running wine, great +cellars full of wine free as water to all comers, silk tents, gold lace and +foil, gilt lions, and such things without end; and, in the midst of all, the +rich Cardinal out-shone and out-glittered all the noblemen and gentlemen +assembled. After a treaty made between the two Kings with as much solemnity as +if they had intended to keep it, the lists—nine hundred feet long, and +three hundred and twenty broad—were opened for the tournament; the Queens +of France and England looking on with great array of lords and ladies. Then, +for ten days, the two sovereigns fought five combats every day, and always beat +their polite adversaries; though they <i>do</i> write that the King of England, +being thrown in a wrestle one day by the King of France, lost his kingly temper +with his brother-in-arms, and wanted to make a quarrel of it. Then, there is a +great story belonging to this Field of the Cloth of Gold, showing how the +English were distrustful of the French, and the French of the English, until +Francis rode alone one morning to Henry’s tent; and, going in before he +was out of bed, told him in joke that he was his prisoner; and how Henry jumped +out of bed and embraced Francis; and how Francis helped Henry to dress, and +warmed his linen for him; and how Henry gave Francis a splendid jewelled +collar, and how Francis gave Henry, in return, a costly bracelet. All this and +a great deal more was so written about, and sung about, and talked about at +that time (and, indeed, since that time too), that the world has had good cause +to be sick of it, for ever. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, nothing came of all these fine doings but a speedy renewal of the +war between England and France, in which the two Royal companions and brothers +in arms longed very earnestly to damage one another. But, before it broke out +again, the Duke of Buckingham was shamefully executed on Tower Hill, on the +evidence of a discharged servant—really for nothing, except the folly of +having believed in a friar of the name of <span class="smcap">Hopkins</span>, +who had pretended to be a prophet, and who had mumbled and jumbled out some +nonsense about the Duke’s son being destined to be very great in the +land. It was believed that the unfortunate Duke had given offence to the great +Cardinal by expressing his mind freely about the expense and absurdity of the +whole business of the Field of the Cloth of Gold. At any rate, he was beheaded, +as I have said, for nothing. And the people who saw it done were very angry, +and cried out that it was the work of ‘the butcher’s son!’ +</p> + +<p> +The new war was a short one, though the Earl of Surrey invaded France again, +and did some injury to that country. It ended in another treaty of peace +between the two kingdoms, and in the discovery that the Emperor of Germany was +not such a good friend to England in reality, as he pretended to be. Neither +did he keep his promise to Wolsey to make him Pope, though the King urged him. +Two Popes died in pretty quick succession; but the foreign priests were too +much for the Cardinal, and kept him out of the post. So the Cardinal and King +together found out that the Emperor of Germany was not a man to keep faith +with; broke off a projected marriage between the King’s daughter <span +class="smcap">Mary</span>, Princess of Wales, and that sovereign; and began to +consider whether it might not be well to marry the young lady, either to +Francis himself, or to his eldest son. +</p> + +<p> +There now arose at Wittemberg, in Germany, the great leader of the mighty +change in England which is called The Reformation, and which set the people +free from their slavery to the priests. This was a learned Doctor, named <span +class="smcap">Martin Luther</span>, who knew all about them, for he had been a +priest, and even a monk, himself. The preaching and writing of Wickliffe had +set a number of men thinking on this subject; and Luther, finding one day to +his great surprise, that there really was a book called the New Testament which +the priests did not allow to be read, and which contained truths that they +suppressed, began to be very vigorous against the whole body, from the Pope +downward. It happened, while he was yet only beginning his vast work of +awakening the nation, that an impudent fellow named <span +class="smcap">Tetzel</span>, a friar of very bad character, came into his +neighbourhood selling what were called Indulgences, by wholesale, to raise +money for beautifying the great Cathedral of St. Peter’s, at Rome. +Whoever bought an Indulgence of the Pope was supposed to buy himself off from +the punishment of Heaven for his offences. Luther told the people that these +Indulgences were worthless bits of paper, before God, and that Tetzel and his +masters were a crew of impostors in selling them. +</p> + +<p> +The King and the Cardinal were mightily indignant at this presumption; and the +King (with the help of <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas More</span>, a wise man, +whom he afterwards repaid by striking off his head) even wrote a book about it, +with which the Pope was so well pleased that he gave the King the title of +Defender of the Faith. The King and the Cardinal also issued flaming warnings +to the people not to read Luther’s books, on pain of excommunication. But +they did read them for all that; and the rumour of what was in them spread far +and wide. +</p> + +<p> +When this great change was thus going on, the King began to show himself in his +truest and worst colours. Anne Boleyn, the pretty little girl who had gone +abroad to France with his sister, was by this time grown up to be very +beautiful, and was one of the ladies in attendance on Queen Catherine. Now, +Queen Catherine was no longer young or handsome, and it is likely that she was +not particularly good-tempered; having been always rather melancholy, and +having been made more so by the deaths of four of her children when they were +very young. So, the King fell in love with the fair Anne Boleyn, and said to +himself, ‘How can I be best rid of my own troublesome wife whom I am +tired of, and marry Anne?’ +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/p0b.jpg"> +<img alt="Catherine was old, so he fell in love with Anne Boleyn" +src="images/p0s.jpg" /></a> +</div> + +<p> +You recollect that Queen Catherine had been the wife of Henry’s brother. +What does the King do, after thinking it over, but calls his favourite priests +about him, and says, O! his mind is in such a dreadful state, and he is so +frightfully uneasy, because he is afraid it was not lawful for him to marry the +Queen! Not one of those priests had the courage to hint that it was rather +curious he had never thought of that before, and that his mind seemed to have +been in a tolerably jolly condition during a great many years, in which he +certainly had not fretted himself thin; but, they all said, Ah! that was very +true, and it was a serious business; and perhaps the best way to make it right, +would be for his Majesty to be divorced! The King replied, Yes, he thought that +would be the best way, certainly; so they all went to work. +</p> + +<p> +If I were to relate to you the intrigues and plots that took place in the +endeavour to get this divorce, you would think the History of England the most +tiresome book in the world. So I shall say no more, than that after a vast deal +of negotiation and evasion, the Pope issued a commission to Cardinal Wolsey and +<span class="smcap">Cardinal Campeggio</span> (whom he sent over from Italy for +the purpose), to try the whole case in England. It is supposed—and I +think with reason—that Wolsey was the Queen’s enemy, because she +had reproved him for his proud and gorgeous manner of life. But, he did not at +first know that the King wanted to marry Anne Boleyn; and when he did know it, +he even went down on his knees, in the endeavour to dissuade him. +</p> + +<p> +The Cardinals opened their court in the Convent of the Black Friars, near to +where the bridge of that name in London now stands; and the King and Queen, +that they might be near it, took up their lodgings at the adjoining palace of +Bridewell, of which nothing now remains but a bad prison. On the opening of the +court, when the King and Queen were called on to appear, that poor ill-used +lady, with a dignity and firmness and yet with a womanly affection worthy to be +always admired, went and kneeled at the King’s feet, and said that she +had come, a stranger, to his dominions; that she had been a good and true wife +to him for twenty years; and that she could acknowledge no power in those +Cardinals to try whether she should be considered his wife after all that time, +or should be put away. With that, she got up and left the court, and would +never afterwards come back to it. +</p> + +<p> +The King pretended to be very much overcome, and said, O! my lords and +gentlemen, what a good woman she was to be sure, and how delighted he would be +to live with her unto death, but for that terrible uneasiness in his mind which +was quite wearing him away! So, the case went on, and there was nothing but +talk for two months. Then Cardinal Campeggio, who, on behalf of the Pope, +wanted nothing so much as delay, adjourned it for two more months; and before +that time was elapsed, the Pope himself adjourned it indefinitely, by requiring +the King and Queen to come to Rome and have it tried there. But by good luck +for the King, word was brought to him by some of his people, that they had +happened to meet at supper, <span class="smcap">Thomas Cranmer</span>, a +learned Doctor of Cambridge, who had proposed to urge the Pope on, by referring +the case to all the learned doctors and bishops, here and there and everywhere, +and getting their opinions that the King’s marriage was unlawful. The +King, who was now in a hurry to marry Anne Boleyn, thought this such a good +idea, that he sent for Cranmer, post haste, and said to <span +class="smcap">Lord Rochfort</span>, Anne Boleyn’s father, ‘Take +this learned Doctor down to your country-house, and there let him have a good +room for a study, and no end of books out of which to prove that I may marry +your daughter.’ Lord Rochfort, not at all reluctant, made the learned +Doctor as comfortable as he could; and the learned Doctor went to work to prove +his case. All this time, the King and Anne Boleyn were writing letters to one +another almost daily, full of impatience to have the case settled; and Anne +Boleyn was showing herself (as I think) very worthy of the fate which +afterwards befel her. +</p> + +<p> +It was bad for Cardinal Wolsey that he had left Cranmer to render this help. It +was worse for him that he had tried to dissuade the King from marrying Anne +Boleyn. Such a servant as he, to such a master as Henry, would probably have +fallen in any case; but, between the hatred of the party of the Queen that was, +and the hatred of the party of the Queen that was to be, he fell suddenly and +heavily. Going down one day to the Court of Chancery, where he now presided, he +was waited upon by the Dukes of Norfolk and Suffolk, who told him that they +brought an order to him to resign that office, and to withdraw quietly to a +house he had at Esher, in Surrey. The Cardinal refusing, they rode off to the +King; and next day came back with a letter from him, on reading which, the +Cardinal submitted. An inventory was made out of all the riches in his palace +at York Place (now Whitehall), and he went sorrowfully up the river, in his +barge, to Putney. An abject man he was, in spite of his pride; for being +overtaken, riding out of that place towards Esher, by one of the King’s +chamberlains who brought him a kind message and a ring, he alighted from his +mule, took off his cap, and kneeled down in the dirt. His poor Fool, whom in +his prosperous days he had always kept in his palace to entertain him, cut a +far better figure than he; for, when the Cardinal said to the chamberlain that +he had nothing to send to his lord the King as a present, but that jester who +was a most excellent one, it took six strong yeomen to remove the faithful fool +from his master. +</p> + +<p> +The once proud Cardinal was soon further disgraced, and wrote the most abject +letters to his vile sovereign; who humbled him one day and encouraged him the +next, according to his humour, until he was at last ordered to go and reside in +his diocese of York. He said he was too poor; but I don’t know how he +made that out, for he took a hundred and sixty servants with him, and +seventy-two cart-loads of furniture, food, and wine. He remained in that part +of the country for the best part of a year, and showed himself so improved by +his misfortunes, and was so mild and so conciliating, that he won all hearts. +And indeed, even in his proud days, he had done some magnificent things for +learning and education. At last, he was arrested for high treason; and, coming +slowly on his journey towards London, got as far as Leicester. Arriving at +Leicester Abbey after dark, and very ill, he said—when the monks came out +at the gate with lighted torches to receive him—that he had come to lay +his bones among them. He had indeed; for he was taken to a bed, from which he +never rose again. His last words were, ‘Had I but served God as +diligently as I have served the King, He would not have given me over, in my +grey hairs. Howbeit, this is my just reward for my pains and diligence, not +regarding my service to God, but only my duty to my prince.’ The news of +his death was quickly carried to the King, who was amusing himself with archery +in the garden of the magnificent Palace at Hampton Court, which that very +Wolsey had presented to him. The greatest emotion his royal mind displayed at +the loss of a servant so faithful and so ruined, was a particular desire to lay +hold of fifteen hundred pounds which the Cardinal was reported to have hidden +somewhere. +</p> + +<p> +The opinions concerning the divorce, of the learned doctors and bishops and +others, being at last collected, and being generally in the King’s +favour, were forwarded to the Pope, with an entreaty that he would now grant +it. The unfortunate Pope, who was a timid man, was half distracted between his +fear of his authority being set aside in England if he did not do as he was +asked, and his dread of offending the Emperor of Germany, who was Queen +Catherine’s nephew. In this state of mind he still evaded and did +nothing. Then, <span class="smcap">Thomas Cromwell</span>, who had been one of +Wolsey’s faithful attendants, and had remained so even in his decline, +advised the King to take the matter into his own hands, and make himself the +head of the whole Church. This, the King by various artful means, began to do; +but he recompensed the clergy by allowing them to burn as many people as they +pleased, for holding Luther’s opinions. You must understand that Sir +Thomas More, the wise man who had helped the King with his book, had been made +Chancellor in Wolsey’s place. But, as he was truly attached to the Church +as it was even in its abuses, he, in this state of things, resigned. +</p> + +<p> +Being now quite resolved to get rid of Queen Catherine, and to marry Anne +Boleyn without more ado, the King made Cranmer Archbishop of Canterbury, and +directed Queen Catherine to leave the Court. She obeyed; but replied that +wherever she went, she was Queen of England still, and would remain so, to the +last. The King then married Anne Boleyn privately; and the new Archbishop of +Canterbury, within half a year, declared his marriage with Queen Catherine +void, and crowned Anne Boleyn Queen. +</p> + +<p> +She might have known that no good could ever come from such wrong, and that the +corpulent brute who had been so faithless and so cruel to his first wife, could +be more faithless and more cruel to his second. She might have known that, even +when he was in love with her, he had been a mean and selfish coward, running +away, like a frightened cur, from her society and her house, when a dangerous +sickness broke out in it, and when she might easily have taken it and died, as +several of the household did. But, Anne Boleyn arrived at all this knowledge +too late, and bought it at a dear price. Her bad marriage with a worse man came +to its natural end. Its natural end was not, as we shall too soon see, a +natural death for her. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap28"></a>CHAPTER XXVIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER HENRY THE EIGHTH</h2> + +<h3>PART THE SECOND</h3> + +<p> +The Pope was thrown into a very angry state of mind when he heard of the +King’s marriage, and fumed exceedingly. Many of the English monks and +friars, seeing that their order was in danger, did the same; some even +declaimed against the King in church before his face, and were not to be +stopped until he himself roared out ‘Silence!’ The King, not much +the worse for this, took it pretty quietly; and was very glad when his Queen +gave birth to a daughter, who was christened <span +class="smcap">Elizabeth</span>, and declared Princess of Wales as her sister +Mary had already been. +</p> + +<p> +One of the most atrocious features of this reign was that Henry the Eighth was +always trimming between the reformed religion and the unreformed one; so that +the more he quarrelled with the Pope, the more of his own subjects he roasted +alive for not holding the Pope’s opinions. Thus, an unfortunate student +named John Frith, and a poor simple tailor named Andrew Hewet who loved him +very much, and said that whatever John Frith believed <i>he</i> believed, were +burnt in Smithfield—to show what a capital Christian the King was. +</p> + +<p> +But, these were speedily followed by two much greater victims, Sir Thomas More, +and John Fisher, the Bishop of Rochester. The latter, who was a good and +amiable old man, had committed no greater offence than believing in Elizabeth +Barton, called the Maid of Kent—another of those ridiculous women who +pretended to be inspired, and to make all sorts of heavenly revelations, though +they indeed uttered nothing but evil nonsense. For this offence—as it was +pretended, but really for denying the King to be the supreme Head of the +Church—he got into trouble, and was put in prison; but, even then, he +might have been suffered to die naturally (short work having been made of +executing the Kentish Maid and her principal followers), but that the Pope, to +spite the King, resolved to make him a cardinal. Upon that the King made a +ferocious joke to the effect that the Pope might send Fisher a red +hat—which is the way they make a cardinal—but he should have no +head on which to wear it; and he was tried with all unfairness and injustice, +and sentenced to death. He died like a noble and virtuous old man, and left a +worthy name behind him. The King supposed, I dare say, that Sir Thomas More +would be frightened by this example; but, as he was not to be easily terrified, +and, thoroughly believing in the Pope, had made up his mind that the King was +not the rightful Head of the Church, he positively refused to say that he was. +For this crime he too was tried and sentenced, after having been in prison a +whole year. When he was doomed to death, and came away from his trial with the +edge of the executioner’s axe turned towards him—as was always done +in those times when a state prisoner came to that hopeless pass—he bore +it quite serenely, and gave his blessing to his son, who pressed through the +crowd in Westminster Hall and kneeled down to receive it. But, when he got to +the Tower Wharf on his way back to his prison, and his favourite daughter, +<span class="smcap">Margaret Roper</span>, a very good woman, rushed through +the guards again and again, to kiss him and to weep upon his neck, he was +overcome at last. He soon recovered, and never more showed any feeling but +cheerfulness and courage. When he was going up the steps of the scaffold to his +death, he said jokingly to the Lieutenant of the Tower, observing that they +were weak and shook beneath his tread, ‘I pray you, master Lieutenant, +see me safe up; and, for my coming down, I can shift for myself.’ Also he +said to the executioner, after he had laid his head upon the block, ‘Let +me put my beard out of the way; for that, at least, has never committed any +treason.’ Then his head was struck off at a blow. These two executions +were worthy of King Henry the Eighth. Sir Thomas More was one of the most +virtuous men in his dominions, and the Bishop was one of his oldest and truest +friends. But to be a friend of that fellow was almost as dangerous as to be his +wife. +</p> + +<p> +When the news of these two murders got to Rome, the Pope raged against the +murderer more than ever Pope raged since the world began, and prepared a Bull, +ordering his subjects to take arms against him and dethrone him. The King took +all possible precautions to keep that document out of his dominions, and set to +work in return to suppress a great number of the English monasteries and +abbeys. +</p> + +<p> +This destruction was begun by a body of commissioners, of whom Cromwell (whom +the King had taken into great favour) was the head; and was carried on through +some few years to its entire completion. There is no doubt that many of these +religious establishments were religious in nothing but in name, and were +crammed with lazy, indolent, and sensual monks. There is no doubt that they +imposed upon the people in every possible way; that they had images moved by +wires, which they pretended were miraculously moved by Heaven; that they had +among them a whole tun measure full of teeth, all purporting to have come out +of the head of one saint, who must indeed have been a very extraordinary person +with that enormous allowance of grinders; that they had bits of coal which they +said had fried Saint Lawrence, and bits of toe-nails which they said belonged +to other famous saints; penknives, and boots, and girdles, which they said +belonged to others; and that all these bits of rubbish were called Relics, and +adored by the ignorant people. But, on the other hand, there is no doubt +either, that the King’s officers and men punished the good monks with the +bad; did great injustice; demolished many beautiful things and many valuable +libraries; destroyed numbers of paintings, stained glass windows, fine +pavements, and carvings; and that the whole court were ravenously greedy and +rapacious for the division of this great spoil among them. The King seems to +have grown almost mad in the ardour of this pursuit; for he declared Thomas +à Becket a traitor, though he had been dead so many years, and had his +body dug up out of his grave. He must have been as miraculous as the monks +pretended, if they had told the truth, for he was found with one head on his +shoulders, and they had shown another as his undoubted and genuine head ever +since his death; it had brought them vast sums of money, too. The gold and +jewels on his shrine filled two great chests, and eight men tottered as they +carried them away. How rich the monasteries were you may infer from the fact +that, when they were all suppressed, one hundred and thirty thousand pounds a +year—in those days an immense sum—came to the Crown. +</p> + +<p> +These things were not done without causing great discontent among the people. +The monks had been good landlords and hospitable entertainers of all +travellers, and had been accustomed to give away a great deal of corn, and +fruit, and meat, and other things. In those days it was difficult to change +goods into money, in consequence of the roads being very few and very bad, and +the carts, and waggons of the worst description; and they must either have +given away some of the good things they possessed in enormous quantities, or +have suffered them to spoil and moulder. So, many of the people missed what it +was more agreeable to get idly than to work for; and the monks who were driven +out of their homes and wandered about encouraged their discontent; and there +were, consequently, great risings in Lincolnshire and Yorkshire. These were put +down by terrific executions, from which the monks themselves did not escape, +and the King went on grunting and growling in his own fat way, like a Royal +pig. +</p> + +<p> +I have told all this story of the religious houses at one time, to make it +plainer, and to get back to the King’s domestic affairs. +</p> + +<p> +The unfortunate Queen Catherine was by this time dead; and the King was by this +time as tired of his second Queen as he had been of his first. As he had fallen +in love with Anne when she was in the service of Catherine, so he now fell in +love with another lady in the service of Anne. See how wicked deeds are +punished, and how bitterly and self-reproachfully the Queen must now have +thought of her own rise to the throne! The new fancy was a <span +class="smcap">Lady Jane Seymour</span>; and the King no sooner set his mind on +her, than he resolved to have Anne Boleyn’s head. So, he brought a number +of charges against Anne, accusing her of dreadful crimes which she had never +committed, and implicating in them her own brother and certain gentlemen in her +service: among whom one Norris, and Mark Smeaton a musician, are best +remembered. As the lords and councillors were as afraid of the King and as +subservient to him as the meanest peasant in England was, they brought in Anne +Boleyn guilty, and the other unfortunate persons accused with her, guilty too. +Those gentlemen died like men, with the exception of Smeaton, who had been +tempted by the King into telling lies, which he called confessions, and who had +expected to be pardoned; but who, I am very glad to say, was not. There was +then only the Queen to dispose of. She had been surrounded in the Tower with +women spies; had been monstrously persecuted and foully slandered; and had +received no justice. But her spirit rose with her afflictions; and, after +having in vain tried to soften the King by writing an affecting letter to him +which still exists, ‘from her doleful prison in the Tower,’ she +resigned herself to death. She said to those about her, very cheerfully, that +she had heard say the executioner was a good one, and that she had a little +neck (she laughed and clasped it with her hands as she said that), and would +soon be out of her pain. And she <i>was</i> soon out of her pain, poor +creature, on the Green inside the Tower, and her body was flung into an old box +and put away in the ground under the chapel. +</p> + +<p> +There is a story that the King sat in his palace listening very anxiously for +the sound of the cannon which was to announce this new murder; and that, when +he heard it come booming on the air, he rose up in great spirits and ordered +out his dogs to go a-hunting. He was bad enough to do it; but whether he did it +or not, it is certain that he married Jane Seymour the very next day. +</p> + +<p> +I have not much pleasure in recording that she lived just long enough to give +birth to a son who was christened <span class="smcap">Edward</span>, and then +to die of a fever: for, I cannot but think that any woman who married such a +ruffian, and knew what innocent blood was on his hands, deserved the axe that +would assuredly have fallen on the neck of Jane Seymour, if she had lived much +longer. +</p> + +<p> +Cranmer had done what he could to save some of the Church property for purposes +of religion and education; but, the great families had been so hungry to get +hold of it, that very little could be rescued for such objects. Even <span +class="smcap">Miles Coverdale</span>, who did the people the inestimable +service of translating the Bible into English (which the unreformed religion +never permitted to be done), was left in poverty while the great families +clutched the Church lands and money. The people had been told that when the +Crown came into possession of these funds, it would not be necessary to tax +them; but they were taxed afresh directly afterwards. It was fortunate for +them, indeed, that so many nobles were so greedy for this wealth; since, if it +had remained with the Crown, there might have been no end to tyranny for +hundreds of years. One of the most active writers on the Church’s side +against the King was a member of his own family—a sort of distant cousin, +<span class="smcap">Reginald Pole</span> by name—who attacked him in the +most violent manner (though he received a pension from him all the time), and +fought for the Church with his pen, day and night. As he was beyond the +King’s reach—being in Italy—the King politely invited him +over to discuss the subject; but he, knowing better than to come, and wisely +staying where he was, the King’s rage fell upon his brother Lord +Montague, the Marquis of Exeter, and some other gentlemen: who were tried for +high treason in corresponding with him and aiding him—which they probably +did—and were all executed. The Pope made Reginald Pole a cardinal; but, +so much against his will, that it is thought he even aspired in his own mind to +the vacant throne of England, and had hopes of marrying the Princess Mary. His +being made a high priest, however, put an end to all that. His mother, the +venerable Countess of Salisbury—who was, unfortunately for herself, +within the tyrant’s reach—was the last of his relatives on whom his +wrath fell. When she was told to lay her grey head upon the block, she answered +the executioner, ‘No! My head never committed treason, and if you want +it, you shall seize it.’ So, she ran round and round the scaffold with +the executioner striking at her, and her grey hair bedabbled with blood; and +even when they held her down upon the block she moved her head about to the +last, resolved to be no party to her own barbarous murder. All this the people +bore, as they had borne everything else. +</p> + +<p> +Indeed they bore much more; for the slow fires of Smithfield were continually +burning, and people were constantly being roasted to death—still to show +what a good Christian the King was. He defied the Pope and his Bull, which was +now issued, and had come into England; but he burned innumerable people whose +only offence was that they differed from the Pope’s religious opinions. +There was a wretched man named <span class="smcap">Lambert</span>, among +others, who was tried for this before the King, and with whom six bishops +argued one after another. When he was quite exhausted (as well he might be, +after six bishops), he threw himself on the King’s mercy; but the King +blustered out that he had no mercy for heretics. So, <i>he</i> too fed the +fire. +</p> + +<p> +All this the people bore, and more than all this yet. The national spirit seems +to have been banished from the kingdom at this time. The very people who were +executed for treason, the very wives and friends of the ‘bluff’ +King, spoke of him on the scaffold as a good prince, and a gentle +prince—just as serfs in similar circumstances have been known to do, +under the Sultan and Bashaws of the East, or under the fierce old tyrants of +Russia, who poured boiling and freezing water on them alternately, until they +died. The Parliament were as bad as the rest, and gave the King whatever he +wanted; among other vile accommodations, they gave him new powers of murdering, +at his will and pleasure, any one whom he might choose to call a traitor. But +the worst measure they passed was an Act of Six Articles, commonly called at +the time ‘the whip with six strings;’ which punished offences +against the Pope’s opinions, without mercy, and enforced the very worst +parts of the monkish religion. Cranmer would have modified it, if he could; +but, being overborne by the Romish party, had not the power. As one of the +articles declared that priests should not marry, and as he was married himself, +he sent his wife and children into Germany, and began to tremble at his danger; +none the less because he was, and had long been, the King’s friend. This +whip of six strings was made under the King’s own eye. It should never be +forgotten of him how cruelly he supported the worst of the Popish doctrines +when there was nothing to be got by opposing them. +</p> + +<p> +This amiable monarch now thought of taking another wife. He proposed to the +French King to have some of the ladies of the French Court exhibited before +him, that he might make his Royal choice; but the French King answered that he +would rather not have his ladies trotted out to be shown like horses at a fair. +He proposed to the Dowager Duchess of Milan, who replied that she might have +thought of such a match if she had had two heads; but, that only owning one, +she must beg to keep it safe. At last Cromwell represented that there was a +Protestant Princess in Germany—those who held the reformed religion were +called Protestants, because their leaders had Protested against the abuses and +impositions of the unreformed Church—named <span class="smcap">Anne of +Cleves</span>, who was beautiful, and would answer the purpose admirably. The +King said was she a large woman, because he must have a fat wife? ‘O +yes,’ said Cromwell; ‘she was very large, just the thing.’ On +hearing this the King sent over his famous painter, Hans Holbein, to take her +portrait. Hans made her out to be so good-looking that the King was satisfied, +and the marriage was arranged. But, whether anybody had paid Hans to touch up +the picture; or whether Hans, like one or two other painters, flattered a +princess in the ordinary way of business, I cannot say: all I know is, that +when Anne came over and the King went to Rochester to meet her, and first saw +her without her seeing him, he swore she was ‘a great Flanders +mare,’ and said he would never marry her. Being obliged to do it now +matters had gone so far, he would not give her the presents he had prepared, +and would never notice her. He never forgave Cromwell his part in the affair. +His downfall dates from that time. +</p> + +<p> +It was quickened by his enemies, in the interests of the unreformed religion, +putting in the King’s way, at a state dinner, a niece of the Duke of +Norfolk, <span class="smcap">Catherine Howard</span>, a young lady of +fascinating manners, though small in stature and not particularly beautiful. +Falling in love with her on the spot, the King soon divorced Anne of Cleves +after making her the subject of much brutal talk, on pretence that she had been +previously betrothed to some one else—which would never do for one of his +dignity—and married Catherine. It is probable that on his wedding day, of +all days in the year, he sent his faithful Cromwell to the scaffold, and had +his head struck off. He further celebrated the occasion by burning at one time, +and causing to be drawn to the fire on the same hurdles, some Protestant +prisoners for denying the Pope’s doctrines, and some Roman Catholic +prisoners for denying his own supremacy. Still the people bore it, and not a +gentleman in England raised his hand. +</p> + +<p> +But, by a just retribution, it soon came out that Catherine Howard, before her +marriage, had been really guilty of such crimes as the King had falsely +attributed to his second wife Anne Boleyn; so, again the dreadful axe made the +King a widower, and this Queen passed away as so many in that reign had passed +away before her. As an appropriate pursuit under the circumstances, Henry then +applied himself to superintending the composition of a religious book called +‘A necessary doctrine for any Christian Man.’ He must have been a +little confused in his mind, I think, at about this period; for he was so false +to himself as to be true to some one: that some one being Cranmer, whom the +Duke of Norfolk and others of his enemies tried to ruin; but to whom the King +was steadfast, and to whom he one night gave his ring, charging him when he +should find himself, next day, accused of treason, to show it to the council +board. This Cranmer did to the confusion of his enemies. I suppose the King +thought he might want him a little longer. +</p> + +<p> +He married yet once more. Yes, strange to say, he found in England another +woman who would become his wife, and she was <span class="smcap">Catherine +Parr</span>, widow of Lord Latimer. She leaned towards the reformed religion; +and it is some comfort to know, that she tormented the King considerably by +arguing a variety of doctrinal points with him on all possible occasions. She +had very nearly done this to her own destruction. After one of these +conversations the King in a very black mood actually instructed <span +class="smcap">Gardiner</span>, one of his Bishops who favoured the Popish +opinions, to draw a bill of accusation against her, which would have inevitably +brought her to the scaffold where her predecessors had died, but that one of +her friends picked up the paper of instructions which had been dropped in the +palace, and gave her timely notice. She fell ill with terror; but managed the +King so well when he came to entrap her into further statements—by saying +that she had only spoken on such points to divert his mind and to get some +information from his extraordinary wisdom—that he gave her a kiss and +called her his sweetheart. And, when the Chancellor came next day actually to +take her to the Tower, the King sent him about his business, and honoured him +with the epithets of a beast, a knave, and a fool. So near was Catherine Parr +to the block, and so narrow was her escape! +</p> + +<p> +There was war with Scotland in this reign, and a short clumsy war with France +for favouring Scotland; but, the events at home were so dreadful, and leave +such an enduring stain on the country, that I need say no more of what happened +abroad. +</p> + +<p> +A few more horrors, and this reign is over. There was a lady, <span +class="smcap">Anne Askew</span>, in Lincolnshire, who inclined to the +Protestant opinions, and whose husband being a fierce Catholic, turned her out +of his house. She came to London, and was considered as offending against the +six articles, and was taken to the Tower, and put upon the rack—probably +because it was hoped that she might, in her agony, criminate some obnoxious +persons; if falsely, so much the better. She was tortured without uttering a +cry, until the Lieutenant of the Tower would suffer his men to torture her no +more; and then two priests who were present actually pulled off their robes, +and turned the wheels of the rack with their own hands, so rending and twisting +and breaking her that she was afterwards carried to the fire in a chair. She +was burned with three others, a gentleman, a clergyman, and a tailor; and so +the world went on. +</p> + +<p> +Either the King became afraid of the power of the Duke of Norfolk, and his son +the Earl of Surrey, or they gave him some offence, but he resolved to pull +<i>them</i> down, to follow all the rest who were gone. The son was tried +first—of course for nothing—and defended himself bravely; but of +course he was found guilty, and of course he was executed. Then his father was +laid hold of, and left for death too. +</p> + +<p> +But the King himself was left for death by a Greater King, and the earth was to +be rid of him at last. He was now a swollen, hideous spectacle, with a great +hole in his leg, and so odious to every sense that it was dreadful to approach +him. When he was found to be dying, Cranmer was sent for from his palace at +Croydon, and came with all speed, but found him speechless. Happily, in that +hour he perished. He was in the fifty-sixth year of his age, and the +thirty-eighth of his reign. +</p> + +<p> +Henry the Eighth has been favoured by some Protestant writers, because the +Reformation was achieved in his time. But the mighty merit of it lies with +other men and not with him; and it can be rendered none the worse by this +monster’s crimes, and none the better by any defence of them. The plain +truth is, that he was a most intolerable ruffian, a disgrace to human nature, +and a blot of blood and grease upon the History of England. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap29"></a>CHAPTER XXIX<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER EDWARD THE SIXTH</h2> + +<p> +Henry the Eighth had made a will, appointing a council of sixteen to govern the +kingdom for his son while he was under age (he was now only ten years old), and +another council of twelve to help them. The most powerful of the first council +was the <span class="smcap">Earl of Hertford</span>, the young King’s +uncle, who lost no time in bringing his nephew with great state up to Enfield, +and thence to the Tower. It was considered at the time a striking proof of +virtue in the young King that he was sorry for his father’s death; but, +as common subjects have that virtue too, sometimes, we will say no more about +it. +</p> + +<p> +There was a curious part of the late King’s will, requiring his executors +to fulfil whatever promises he had made. Some of the court wondering what these +might be, the Earl of Hertford and the other noblemen interested, said that +they were promises to advance and enrich <i>them</i>. So, the Earl of Hertford +made himself <span class="smcap">Duke of Somerset</span>, and made his brother +<span class="smcap">Edward Seymour</span> a baron; and there were various +similar promotions, all very agreeable to the parties concerned, and very +dutiful, no doubt, to the late King’s memory. To be more dutiful still, +they made themselves rich out of the Church lands, and were very comfortable. +The new Duke of Somerset caused himself to be declared <span +class="smcap">Protector</span> of the kingdom, and was, indeed, the King. +</p> + +<p> +As young Edward the Sixth had been brought up in the principles of the +Protestant religion, everybody knew that they would be maintained. But Cranmer, +to whom they were chiefly entrusted, advanced them steadily and temperately. +Many superstitious and ridiculous practices were stopped; but practices which +were harmless were not interfered with. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Somerset, the Protector, was anxious to have the young King engaged +in marriage to the young Queen of Scotland, in order to prevent that princess +from making an alliance with any foreign power; but, as a large party in +Scotland were unfavourable to this plan, he invaded that country. His excuse +for doing so was, that the Border men—that is, the Scotch who lived in +that part of the country where England and Scotland joined—troubled the +English very much. But there were two sides to this question; for the English +Border men troubled the Scotch too; and, through many long years, there were +perpetual border quarrels which gave rise to numbers of old tales and songs. +However, the Protector invaded Scotland; and <span class="smcap">Arran</span>, +the Scottish Regent, with an army twice as large as his, advanced to meet him. +They encountered on the banks of the river Esk, within a few miles of +Edinburgh; and there, after a little skirmish, the Protector made such moderate +proposals, in offering to retire if the Scotch would only engage not to marry +their princess to any foreign prince, that the Regent thought the English were +afraid. But in this he made a horrible mistake; for the English soldiers on +land, and the English sailors on the water, so set upon the Scotch, that they +broke and fled, and more than ten thousand of them were killed. It was a +dreadful battle, for the fugitives were slain without mercy. The ground for +four miles, all the way to Edinburgh, was strewn with dead men, and with arms, +and legs, and heads. Some hid themselves in streams and were drowned; some +threw away their armour and were killed running, almost naked; but in this +battle of Pinkey the English lost only two or three hundred men. They were much +better clothed than the Scotch; at the poverty of whose appearance and country +they were exceedingly astonished. +</p> + +<p> +A Parliament was called when Somerset came back, and it repealed the whip with +six strings, and did one or two other good things; though it unhappily retained +the punishment of burning for those people who did not make believe to believe, +in all religious matters, what the Government had declared that they must and +should believe. It also made a foolish law (meant to put down beggars), that +any man who lived idly and loitered about for three days together, should be +burned with a hot iron, made a slave, and wear an iron fetter. But this savage +absurdity soon came to an end, and went the way of a great many other foolish +laws. +</p> + +<p> +The Protector was now so proud that he sat in Parliament before all the nobles, +on the right hand of the throne. Many other noblemen, who only wanted to be as +proud if they could get a chance, became his enemies of course; and it is +supposed that he came back suddenly from Scotland because he had received news +that his brother, <span class="smcap">Lord Seymour</span>, was becoming +dangerous to him. This lord was now High Admiral of England; a very handsome +man, and a great favourite with the Court ladies—even with the young +Princess Elizabeth, who romped with him a little more than young princesses in +these times do with any one. He had married Catherine Parr, the late +King’s widow, who was now dead; and, to strengthen his power, he secretly +supplied the young King with money. He may even have engaged with some of his +brother’s enemies in a plot to carry the boy off. On these and other +accusations, at any rate, he was confined in the Tower, impeached, and found +guilty; his own brother’s name being—unnatural and sad to +tell—the first signed to the warrant of his execution. He was executed on +Tower Hill, and died denying his treason. One of his last proceedings in this +world was to write two letters, one to the Princess Elizabeth, and one to the +Princess Mary, which a servant of his took charge of, and concealed in his +shoe. These letters are supposed to have urged them against his brother, and to +revenge his death. What they truly contained is not known; but there is no +doubt that he had, at one time, obtained great influence over the Princess +Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p> +All this while, the Protestant religion was making progress. The images which +the people had gradually come to worship, were removed from the churches; the +people were informed that they need not confess themselves to priests unless +they chose; a common prayer-book was drawn up in the English language, which +all could understand, and many other improvements were made; still moderately. +For Cranmer was a very moderate man, and even restrained the Protestant clergy +from violently abusing the unreformed religion—as they very often did, +and which was not a good example. But the people were at this time in great +distress. The rapacious nobility who had come into possession of the Church +lands, were very bad landlords. They enclosed great quantities of ground for +the feeding of sheep, which was then more profitable than the growing of crops; +and this increased the general distress. So the people, who still understood +little of what was going on about them, and still readily believed what the +homeless monks told them—many of whom had been their good friends in +their better days—took it into their heads that all this was owing to the +reformed religion, and therefore rose, in many parts of the country. +</p> + +<p> +The most powerful risings were in Devonshire and Norfolk. In Devonshire, the +rebellion was so strong that ten thousand men united within a few days, and +even laid siege to Exeter. But <span class="smcap">Lord Russell</span>, coming +to the assistance of the citizens who defended that town, defeated the rebels; +and, not only hanged the Mayor of one place, but hanged the vicar of another +from his own church steeple. What with hanging and killing by the sword, four +thousand of the rebels are supposed to have fallen in that one county. In +Norfolk (where the rising was more against the enclosure of open lands than +against the reformed religion), the popular leader was a man named <span +class="smcap">Robert Ket</span>, a tanner of Wymondham. The mob were, in the +first instance, excited against the tanner by one <span class="smcap">John +Flowerdew</span>, a gentleman who owed him a grudge: but the tanner was more +than a match for the gentleman, since he soon got the people on his side, and +established himself near Norwich with quite an army. There was a large oak-tree +in that place, on a spot called Moushold Hill, which Ket named the Tree of +Reformation; and under its green boughs, he and his men sat, in the midsummer +weather, holding courts of justice, and debating affairs of state. They were +even impartial enough to allow some rather tiresome public speakers to get up +into this Tree of Reformation, and point out their errors to them, in long +discourses, while they lay listening (not always without some grumbling and +growling) in the shade below. At last, one sunny July day, a herald appeared +below the tree, and proclaimed Ket and all his men traitors, unless from that +moment they dispersed and went home: in which case they were to receive a +pardon. But, Ket and his men made light of the herald and became stronger than +ever, until the Earl of Warwick went after them with a sufficient force, and +cut them all to pieces. A few were hanged, drawn, and quartered, as traitors, +and their limbs were sent into various country places to be a terror to the +people. Nine of them were hanged upon nine green branches of the Oak of +Reformation; and so, for the time, that tree may be said to have withered away. +</p> + +<p> +The Protector, though a haughty man, had compassion for the real distresses of +the common people, and a sincere desire to help them. But he was too proud and +too high in degree to hold even their favour steadily; and many of the nobles +always envied and hated him, because they were as proud and not as high as he. +He was at this time building a great Palace in the Strand: to get the stone for +which he blew up church steeples with gunpowder, and pulled down bishops’ +houses: thus making himself still more disliked. At length, his principal +enemy, the Earl of Warwick—Dudley by name, and the son of that Dudley who +had made himself so odious with Empson, in the reign of Henry the +Seventh—joined with seven other members of the Council against him, +formed a separate Council; and, becoming stronger in a few days, sent him to +the Tower under twenty-nine articles of accusation. After being sentenced by +the Council to the forfeiture of all his offices and lands, he was liberated +and pardoned, on making a very humble submission. He was even taken back into +the Council again, after having suffered this fall, and married his daughter, +<span class="smcap">Lady Anne Seymour</span>, to Warwick’s eldest son. +But such a reconciliation was little likely to last, and did not outlive a +year. Warwick, having got himself made Duke of Northumberland, and having +advanced the more important of his friends, then finished the history by +causing the Duke of Somerset and his friend <span class="smcap">Lord +Grey</span>, and others, to be arrested for treason, in having conspired to +seize and dethrone the King. They were also accused of having intended to seize +the new Duke of Northumberland, with his friends <span class="smcap">Lord +Northampton</span> and <span class="smcap">Lord Pembroke</span>; to murder them +if they found need; and to raise the City to revolt. All this the fallen +Protector positively denied; except that he confessed to having spoken of the +murder of those three noblemen, but having never designed it. He was acquitted +of the charge of treason, and found guilty of the other charges; so when the +people—who remembered his having been their friend, now that he was +disgraced and in danger, saw him come out from his trial with the axe turned +from him—they thought he was altogether acquitted, and sent up a loud +shout of joy. +</p> + +<p> +But the Duke of Somerset was ordered to be beheaded on Tower Hill, at eight +o’clock in the morning, and proclamations were issued bidding the +citizens keep at home until after ten. They filled the streets, however, and +crowded the place of execution as soon as it was light; and, with sad faces and +sad hearts, saw the once powerful Protector ascend the scaffold to lay his head +upon the dreadful block. While he was yet saying his last words to them with +manly courage, and telling them, in particular, how it comforted him, at that +pass, to have assisted in reforming the national religion, a member of the +Council was seen riding up on horseback. They again thought that the Duke was +saved by his bringing a reprieve, and again shouted for joy. But the Duke +himself told them they were mistaken, and laid down his head and had it struck +off at a blow. +</p> + +<p> +Many of the bystanders rushed forward and steeped their handkerchiefs in his +blood, as a mark of their affection. He had, indeed, been capable of many good +acts, and one of them was discovered after he was no more. The Bishop of +Durham, a very good man, had been informed against to the Council, when the +Duke was in power, as having answered a treacherous letter proposing a +rebellion against the reformed religion. As the answer could not be found, he +could not be declared guilty; but it was now discovered, hidden by the Duke +himself among some private papers, in his regard for that good man. The Bishop +lost his office, and was deprived of his possessions. +</p> + +<p> +It is not very pleasant to know that while his uncle lay in prison under +sentence of death, the young King was being vastly entertained by plays, and +dances, and sham fights: but there is no doubt of it, for he kept a journal +himself. It is pleasanter to know that not a single Roman Catholic was burnt in +this reign for holding that religion; though two wretched victims suffered for +heresy. One, a woman named <span class="smcap">Joan Bocher</span>, for +professing some opinions that even she could only explain in unintelligible +jargon. The other, a Dutchman, named <span class="smcap">Von Paris</span>, who +practised as a surgeon in London. Edward was, to his credit, exceedingly +unwilling to sign the warrant for the woman’s execution: shedding tears +before he did so, and telling Cranmer, who urged him to do it (though Cranmer +really would have spared the woman at first, but for her own determined +obstinacy), that the guilt was not his, but that of the man who so strongly +urged the dreadful act. We shall see, too soon, whether the time ever came when +Cranmer is likely to have remembered this with sorrow and remorse. +</p> + +<p> +Cranmer and <span class="smcap">Ridley</span> (at first Bishop of Rochester, +and afterwards Bishop of London) were the most powerful of the clergy of this +reign. Others were imprisoned and deprived of their property for still adhering +to the unreformed religion; the most important among whom were <span +class="smcap">Gardiner</span> Bishop of Winchester, <span +class="smcap">Heath</span> Bishop of Worcester, <span class="smcap">Day</span> +Bishop of Chichester, and <span class="smcap">Bonner</span> that Bishop of +London who was superseded by Ridley. The Princess Mary, who inherited her +mother’s gloomy temper, and hated the reformed religion as connected with +her mother’s wrongs and sorrows—she knew nothing else about it, +always refusing to read a single book in which it was truly +described—held by the unreformed religion too, and was the only person in +the kingdom for whom the old Mass was allowed to be performed; nor would the +young King have made that exception even in her favour, but for the strong +persuasions of Cranmer and Ridley. He always viewed it with horror; and when he +fell into a sickly condition, after having been very ill, first of the measles +and then of the small-pox, he was greatly troubled in mind to think that if he +died, and she, the next heir to the throne, succeeded, the Roman Catholic +religion would be set up again. +</p> + +<p> +This uneasiness, the Duke of Northumberland was not slow to encourage: for, if +the Princess Mary came to the throne, he, who had taken part with the +Protestants, was sure to be disgraced. Now, the Duchess of Suffolk was +descended from King Henry the Seventh; and, if she resigned what little or no +right she had, in favour of her daughter <span class="smcap">Lady Jane +Grey</span>, that would be the succession to promote the Duke’s +greatness; because <span class="smcap">Lord Guilford Dudley</span>, one of his +sons, was, at this very time, newly married to her. So, he worked upon the +King’s fears, and persuaded him to set aside both the Princess Mary and +the Princess Elizabeth, and assert his right to appoint his successor. +Accordingly the young King handed to the Crown lawyers a writing signed half a +dozen times over by himself, appointing Lady Jane Grey to succeed to the Crown, +and requiring them to have his will made out according to law. They were much +against it at first, and told the King so; but the Duke of +Northumberland—being so violent about it that the lawyers even expected +him to beat them, and hotly declaring that, stripped to his shirt, he would +fight any man in such a quarrel—they yielded. Cranmer, also, at first +hesitated; pleading that he had sworn to maintain the succession of the Crown +to the Princess Mary; but, he was a weak man in his resolutions, and afterwards +signed the document with the rest of the council. +</p> + +<p> +It was completed none too soon; for Edward was now sinking in a rapid decline; +and, by way of making him better, they handed him over to a woman-doctor who +pretended to be able to cure it. He speedily got worse. On the sixth of July, +in the year one thousand five hundred and fifty-three, he died, very peaceably +and piously, praying God, with his last breath, to protect the reformed +religion. +</p> + +<p> +This King died in the sixteenth year of his age, and in the seventh of his +reign. It is difficult to judge what the character of one so young might +afterwards have become among so many bad, ambitious, quarrelling nobles. But, +he was an amiable boy, of very good abilities, and had nothing coarse or cruel +or brutal in his disposition—which in the son of such a father is rather +surprising. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap30"></a>CHAPTER XXX<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER MARY</h2> + +<p> +The Duke of Northumberland was very anxious to keep the young King’s +death a secret, in order that he might get the two Princesses into his power. +But, the Princess Mary, being informed of that event as she was on her way to +London to see her sick brother, turned her horse’s head, and rode away +into Norfolk. The Earl of Arundel was her friend, and it was he who sent her +warning of what had happened. +</p> + +<p> +As the secret could not be kept, the Duke of Northumberland and the council +sent for the Lord Mayor of London and some of the aldermen, and made a merit of +telling it to them. Then, they made it known to the people, and set off to +inform Lady Jane Grey that she was to be Queen. +</p> + +<p> +She was a pretty girl of only sixteen, and was amiable, learned, and clever. +When the lords who came to her, fell on their knees before her, and told her +what tidings they brought, she was so astonished that she fainted. On +recovering, she expressed her sorrow for the young King’s death, and said +that she knew she was unfit to govern the kingdom; but that if she must be +Queen, she prayed God to direct her. She was then at Sion House, near +Brentford; and the lords took her down the river in state to the Tower, that +she might remain there (as the custom was) until she was crowned. But the +people were not at all favourable to Lady Jane, considering that the right to +be Queen was Mary’s, and greatly disliking the Duke of Northumberland. +They were not put into a better humour by the Duke’s causing a +vintner’s servant, one Gabriel Pot, to be taken up for expressing his +dissatisfaction among the crowd, and to have his ears nailed to the pillory, +and cut off. Some powerful men among the nobility declared on Mary’s +side. They raised troops to support her cause, had her proclaimed Queen at +Norwich, and gathered around her at the castle of Framlingham, which belonged +to the Duke of Norfolk. For, she was not considered so safe as yet, but that it +was best to keep her in a castle on the sea-coast, from whence she might be +sent abroad, if necessary. +</p> + +<p> +The Council would have despatched Lady Jane’s father, the Duke of +Suffolk, as the general of the army against this force; but, as Lady Jane +implored that her father might remain with her, and as he was known to be but a +weak man, they told the Duke of Northumberland that he must take the command +himself. He was not very ready to do so, as he mistrusted the Council much; but +there was no help for it, and he set forth with a heavy heart, observing to a +lord who rode beside him through Shoreditch at the head of the troops, that, +although the people pressed in great numbers to look at them, they were +terribly silent. +</p> + +<p> +And his fears for himself turned out to be well founded. While he was waiting +at Cambridge for further help from the Council, the Council took it into their +heads to turn their backs on Lady Jane’s cause, and to take up the +Princess Mary’s. This was chiefly owing to the before-mentioned Earl of +Arundel, who represented to the Lord Mayor and aldermen, in a second interview +with those sagacious persons, that, as for himself, he did not perceive the +Reformed religion to be in much danger—which Lord Pembroke backed by +flourishing his sword as another kind of persuasion. The Lord Mayor and +aldermen, thus enlightened, said there could be no doubt that the Princess Mary +ought to be Queen. So, she was proclaimed at the Cross by St. Paul’s, and +barrels of wine were given to the people, and they got very drunk, and danced +round blazing bonfires—little thinking, poor wretches, what other +bonfires would soon be blazing in Queen Mary’s name. +</p> + +<p> +After a ten days’ dream of royalty, Lady Jane Grey resigned the Crown +with great willingness, saying that she had only accepted it in obedience to +her father and mother; and went gladly back to her pleasant house by the river, +and her books. Mary then came on towards London; and at Wanstead in Essex, was +joined by her half-sister, the Princess Elizabeth. They passed through the +streets of London to the Tower, and there the new Queen met some eminent +prisoners then confined in it, kissed them, and gave them their liberty. Among +these was that Gardiner, Bishop of Winchester, who had been imprisoned in the +last reign for holding to the unreformed religion. Him she soon made +chancellor. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Northumberland had been taken prisoner, and, together with his son +and five others, was quickly brought before the Council. He, not unnaturally, +asked that Council, in his defence, whether it was treason to obey orders that +had been issued under the great seal; and, if it were, whether they, who had +obeyed them too, ought to be his judges? But they made light of these points; +and, being resolved to have him out of the way, soon sentenced him to death. He +had risen into power upon the death of another man, and made but a poor show +(as might be expected) when he himself lay low. He entreated Gardiner to let +him live, if it were only in a mouse’s hole; and, when he ascended the +scaffold to be beheaded on Tower Hill, addressed the people in a miserable way, +saying that he had been incited by others, and exhorting them to return to the +unreformed religion, which he told them was his faith. There seems reason to +suppose that he expected a pardon even then, in return for this confession; but +it matters little whether he did or not. His head was struck off. +</p> + +<p> +Mary was now crowned Queen. She was thirty-seven years of age, short and thin, +wrinkled in the face, and very unhealthy. But she had a great liking for show +and for bright colours, and all the ladies of her Court were magnificently +dressed. She had a great liking too for old customs, without much sense in +them; and she was oiled in the oldest way, and blessed in the oldest way, and +done all manner of things to in the oldest way, at her coronation. I hope they +did her good. +</p> + +<p> +She soon began to show her desire to put down the Reformed religion, and put up +the unreformed one: though it was dangerous work as yet, the people being +something wiser than they used to be. They even cast a shower of +stones—and among them a dagger—at one of the royal chaplains who +attacked the Reformed religion in a public sermon. But the Queen and her +priests went steadily on. Ridley, the powerful bishop of the last reign, was +seized and sent to the Tower. <span class="smcap">Latimer</span>, also +celebrated among the Clergy of the last reign, was likewise sent to the Tower, +and Cranmer speedily followed. Latimer was an aged man; and, as his guards took +him through Smithfield, he looked round it, and said, ‘This is a place +that hath long groaned for me.’ For he knew well, what kind of bonfires +would soon be burning. Nor was the knowledge confined to him. The prisons were +fast filled with the chief Protestants, who were there left rotting in +darkness, hunger, dirt, and separation from their friends; many, who had time +left them for escape, fled from the kingdom; and the dullest of the people +began, now, to see what was coming. +</p> + +<p> +It came on fast. A Parliament was got together; not without strong suspicion of +unfairness; and they annulled the divorce, formerly pronounced by Cranmer +between the Queen’s mother and King Henry the Eighth, and unmade all the +laws on the subject of religion that had been made in the last King +Edward’s reign. They began their proceedings, in violation of the law, by +having the old mass said before them in Latin, and by turning out a bishop who +would not kneel down. They also declared guilty of treason, Lady Jane Grey for +aspiring to the Crown; her husband, for being her husband; and Cranmer, for not +believing in the mass aforesaid. They then prayed the Queen graciously to +choose a husband for herself, as soon as might be. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the question who should be the Queen’s husband had given rise to a +great deal of discussion, and to several contending parties. Some said Cardinal +Pole was the man—but the Queen was of opinion that he was <i>not</i> the +man, he being too old and too much of a student. Others said that the gallant +young <span class="smcap">Courtenay</span>, whom the Queen had made Earl of +Devonshire, was the man—and the Queen thought so too, for a while; but +she changed her mind. At last it appeared that <span +class="smcap">Philip</span>, <span class="smcap">Prince of Spain</span>, was +certainly the man—though certainly not the people’s man; for they +detested the idea of such a marriage from the beginning to the end, and +murmured that the Spaniard would establish in England, by the aid of foreign +soldiers, the worst abuses of the Popish religion, and even the terrible +Inquisition itself. +</p> + +<p> +These discontents gave rise to a conspiracy for marrying young Courtenay to the +Princess Elizabeth, and setting them up, with popular tumults all over the +kingdom, against the Queen. This was discovered in time by Gardiner; but in +Kent, the old bold county, the people rose in their old bold way. <span +class="smcap">Sir Thomas Wyat</span>, a man of great daring, was their leader. +He raised his standard at Maidstone, marched on to Rochester, established +himself in the old castle there, and prepared to hold out against the Duke of +Norfolk, who came against him with a party of the Queen’s guards, and a +body of five hundred London men. The London men, however, were all for +Elizabeth, and not at all for Mary. They declared, under the castle walls, for +Wyat; the Duke retreated; and Wyat came on to Deptford, at the head of fifteen +thousand men. +</p> + +<p> +But these, in their turn, fell away. When he came to Southwark, there were only +two thousand left. Not dismayed by finding the London citizens in arms, and the +guns at the Tower ready to oppose his crossing the river there, Wyat led them +off to Kingston-upon-Thames, intending to cross the bridge that he knew to be +in that place, and so to work his way round to Ludgate, one of the old gates of +the City. He found the bridge broken down, but mended it, came across, and +bravely fought his way up Fleet Street to Ludgate Hill. Finding the gate closed +against him, he fought his way back again, sword in hand, to Temple Bar. Here, +being overpowered, he surrendered himself, and three or four hundred of his men +were taken, besides a hundred killed. Wyat, in a moment of weakness (and +perhaps of torture) was afterwards made to accuse the Princess Elizabeth as his +accomplice to some very small extent. But his manhood soon returned to him, and +he refused to save his life by making any more false confessions. He was +quartered and distributed in the usual brutal way, and from fifty to a hundred +of his followers were hanged. The rest were led out, with halters round their +necks, to be pardoned, and to make a parade of crying out, ‘God save +Queen Mary!’ +</p> + +<p> +In the danger of this rebellion, the Queen showed herself to be a woman of +courage and spirit. She disdained to retreat to any place of safety, and went +down to the Guildhall, sceptre in hand, and made a gallant speech to the Lord +Mayor and citizens. But on the day after Wyat’s defeat, she did the most +cruel act, even of her cruel reign, in signing the warrant for the execution of +Lady Jane Grey. +</p> + +<p> +They tried to persuade Lady Jane to accept the unreformed religion; but she +steadily refused. On the morning when she was to die, she saw from her window +the bleeding and headless body of her husband brought back in a cart from the +scaffold on Tower Hill where he had laid down his life. But, as she had +declined to see him before his execution, lest she should be overpowered and +not make a good end, so, she even now showed a constancy and calmness that will +never be forgotten. She came up to the scaffold with a firm step and a quiet +face, and addressed the bystanders in a steady voice. They were not numerous; +for she was too young, too innocent and fair, to be murdered before the people +on Tower Hill, as her husband had just been; so, the place of her execution was +within the Tower itself. She said that she had done an unlawful act in taking +what was Queen Mary’s right; but that she had done so with no bad intent, +and that she died a humble Christian. She begged the executioner to despatch +her quickly, and she asked him, ‘Will you take my head off before I lay +me down?’ He answered, ‘No, Madam,’ and then she was very +quiet while they bandaged her eyes. Being blinded, and unable to see the block +on which she was to lay her young head, she was seen to feel about for it with +her hands, and was heard to say, confused, ‘O what shall I do! Where is +it?’ Then they guided her to the right place, and the executioner struck +off her head. You know too well, now, what dreadful deeds the executioner did +in England, through many, many years, and how his axe descended on the hateful +block through the necks of some of the bravest, wisest, and best in the land. +But it never struck so cruel and so vile a blow as this. +</p> + +<p> +The father of Lady Jane soon followed, but was little pitied. Queen +Mary’s next object was to lay hold of Elizabeth, and this was pursued +with great eagerness. Five hundred men were sent to her retired house at +Ashridge, by Berkhampstead, with orders to bring her up, alive or dead. They +got there at ten at night, when she was sick in bed. But, their leaders +followed her lady into her bedchamber, whence she was brought out betimes next +morning, and put into a litter to be conveyed to London. She was so weak and +ill, that she was five days on the road; still, she was so resolved to be seen +by the people that she had the curtains of the litter opened; and so, very pale +and sickly, passed through the streets. She wrote to her sister, saying she was +innocent of any crime, and asking why she was made a prisoner; but she got no +answer, and was ordered to the Tower. They took her in by the Traitor’s +Gate, to which she objected, but in vain. One of the lords who conveyed her +offered to cover her with his cloak, as it was raining, but she put it away +from her, proudly and scornfully, and passed into the Tower, and sat down in a +court-yard on a stone. They besought her to come in out of the wet; but she +answered that it was better sitting there, than in a worse place. At length she +went to her apartment, where she was kept a prisoner, though not so close a +prisoner as at Woodstock, whither she was afterwards removed, and where she is +said to have one day envied a milkmaid whom she heard singing in the sunshine +as she went through the green fields. Gardiner, than whom there were not many +worse men among the fierce and sullen priests, cared little to keep secret his +stern desire for her death: being used to say that it was of little service to +shake off the leaves, and lop the branches of the tree of heresy, if its root, +the hope of heretics, were left. He failed, however, in his benevolent design. +Elizabeth was, at length, released; and Hatfield House was assigned to her as a +residence, under the care of one <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas Pope</span>. +</p> + +<p> +It would seem that Philip, the Prince of Spain, was a main cause of this change +in Elizabeth’s fortunes. He was not an amiable man, being, on the +contrary, proud, overbearing, and gloomy; but he and the Spanish lords who came +over with him, assuredly did discountenance the idea of doing any violence to +the Princess. It may have been mere prudence, but we will hope it was manhood +and honour. The Queen had been expecting her husband with great impatience, and +at length he came, to her great joy, though he never cared much for her. They +were married by Gardiner, at Winchester, and there was more holiday-making +among the people; but they had their old distrust of this Spanish marriage, in +which even the Parliament shared. Though the members of that Parliament were +far from honest, and were strongly suspected to have been bought with Spanish +money, they would pass no bill to enable the Queen to set aside the Princess +Elizabeth and appoint her own successor. +</p> + +<p> +Although Gardiner failed in this object, as well as in the darker one of +bringing the Princess to the scaffold, he went on at a great pace in the +revival of the unreformed religion. A new Parliament was packed, in which there +were no Protestants. Preparations were made to receive Cardinal Pole in England +as the Pope’s messenger, bringing his holy declaration that all the +nobility who had acquired Church property, should keep it—which was done +to enlist their selfish interest on the Pope’s side. Then a great scene +was enacted, which was the triumph of the Queen’s plans. Cardinal Pole +arrived in great splendour and dignity, and was received with great pomp. The +Parliament joined in a petition expressive of their sorrow at the change in the +national religion, and praying him to receive the country again into the Popish +Church. With the Queen sitting on her throne, and the King on one side of her, +and the Cardinal on the other, and the Parliament present, Gardiner read the +petition aloud. The Cardinal then made a great speech, and was so obliging as +to say that all was forgotten and forgiven, and that the kingdom was solemnly +made Roman Catholic again. +</p> + +<p> +Everything was now ready for the lighting of the terrible bonfires. The Queen +having declared to the Council, in writing, that she would wish none of her +subjects to be burnt without some of the Council being present, and that she +would particularly wish there to be good sermons at all burnings, the Council +knew pretty well what was to be done next. So, after the Cardinal had blessed +all the bishops as a preface to the burnings, the Chancellor Gardiner opened a +High Court at Saint Mary Overy, on the Southwark side of London Bridge, for the +trial of heretics. Here, two of the late Protestant clergymen, <span +class="smcap">Hooper</span>, Bishop of Gloucester, and <span +class="smcap">Rogers</span>, a Prebendary of St. Paul’s, were brought to +be tried. Hooper was tried first for being married, though a priest, and for +not believing in the mass. He admitted both of these accusations, and said that +the mass was a wicked imposition. Then they tried Rogers, who said the same. +Next morning the two were brought up to be sentenced; and then Rogers said that +his poor wife, being a German woman and a stranger in the land, he hoped might +be allowed to come to speak to him before he died. To this the inhuman Gardiner +replied, that she was not his wife. ‘Yea, but she is, my lord,’ +said Rogers, ‘and she hath been my wife these eighteen years.’ His +request was still refused, and they were both sent to Newgate; all those who +stood in the streets to sell things, being ordered to put out their lights that +the people might not see them. But, the people stood at their doors with +candles in their hands, and prayed for them as they went by. Soon afterwards, +Rogers was taken out of jail to be burnt in Smithfield; and, in the crowd as he +went along, he saw his poor wife and his ten children, of whom the youngest was +a little baby. And so he was burnt to death. +</p> + +<p> +The next day, Hooper, who was to be burnt at Gloucester, was brought out to +take his last journey, and was made to wear a hood over his face that he might +not be known by the people. But, they did know him for all that, down in his +own part of the country; and, when he came near Gloucester, they lined the +road, making prayers and lamentations. His guards took him to a lodging, where +he slept soundly all night. At nine o’clock next morning, he was brought +forth leaning on a staff; for he had taken cold in prison, and was infirm. The +iron stake, and the iron chain which was to bind him to it, were fixed up near +a great elm-tree in a pleasant open place before the cathedral, where, on +peaceful Sundays, he had been accustomed to preach and to pray, when he was +bishop of Gloucester. This tree, which had no leaves then, it being February, +was filled with people; and the priests of Gloucester College were looking +complacently on from a window, and there was a great concourse of spectators in +every spot from which a glimpse of the dreadful sight could be beheld. When the +old man kneeled down on the small platform at the foot of the stake, and prayed +aloud, the nearest people were observed to be so attentive to his prayers that +they were ordered to stand farther back; for it did not suit the Romish Church +to have those Protestant words heard. His prayers concluded, he went up to the +stake and was stripped to his shirt, and chained ready for the fire. One of his +guards had such compassion on him that, to shorten his agonies, he tied some +packets of gunpowder about him. Then they heaped up wood and straw and reeds, +and set them all alight. But, unhappily, the wood was green and damp, and there +was a wind blowing that blew what flame there was, away. Thus, through +three-quarters of an hour, the good old man was scorched and roasted and +smoked, as the fire rose and sank; and all that time they saw him, as he +burned, moving his lips in prayer, and beating his breast with one hand, even +after the other was burnt away and had fallen off. +</p> + +<p> +Cranmer, Ridley, and Latimer, were taken to Oxford to dispute with a commission +of priests and doctors about the mass. They were shamefully treated; and it is +recorded that the Oxford scholars hissed and howled and groaned, and +misconducted themselves in an anything but a scholarly way. The prisoners were +taken back to jail, and afterwards tried in St. Mary’s Church. They were +all found guilty. On the sixteenth of the month of October, Ridley and Latimer +were brought out, to make another of the dreadful bonfires. +</p> + +<p> +The scene of the suffering of these two good Protestant men was in the City +ditch, near Baliol College. On coming to the dreadful spot, they kissed the +stakes, and then embraced each other. And then a learned doctor got up into a +pulpit which was placed there, and preached a sermon from the text, +‘Though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth +me nothing.’ When you think of the charity of burning men alive, you may +imagine that this learned doctor had a rather brazen face. Ridley would have +answered his sermon when it came to an end, but was not allowed. When Latimer +was stripped, it appeared that he had dressed himself under his other clothes, +in a new shroud; and, as he stood in it before all the people, it was noted of +him, and long remembered, that, whereas he had been stooping and feeble but a +few minutes before, he now stood upright and handsome, in the knowledge that he +was dying for a just and a great cause. Ridley’s brother-in-law was there +with bags of gunpowder; and when they were both chained up, he tied them round +their bodies. Then, a light was thrown upon the pile to fire it. ‘Be of +good comfort, Master Ridley,’ said Latimer, at that awful moment, +‘and play the man! We shall this day light such a candle, by God’s +grace, in England, as I trust shall never be put out.’ And then he was +seen to make motions with his hands as if he were washing them in the flames, +and to stroke his aged face with them, and was heard to cry, ‘Father of +Heaven, receive my soul!’ He died quickly, but the fire, after having +burned the legs of Ridley, sunk. There he lingered, chained to the iron post, +and crying, ‘O! I cannot burn! O! for Christ’s sake let the fire +come unto me!’ And still, when his brother-in-law had heaped on more +wood, he was heard through the blinding smoke, still dismally crying, ‘O! +I cannot burn, I cannot burn!’ At last, the gunpowder caught fire, and +ended his miseries. +</p> + +<p> +Five days after this fearful scene, Gardiner went to his tremendous account +before God, for the cruelties he had so much assisted in committing. +</p> + +<p> +Cranmer remained still alive and in prison. He was brought out again in +February, for more examining and trying, by Bonner, Bishop of London: another +man of blood, who had succeeded to Gardiner’s work, even in his lifetime, +when Gardiner was tired of it. Cranmer was now degraded as a priest, and left +for death; but, if the Queen hated any one on earth, she hated him, and it was +resolved that he should be ruined and disgraced to the utmost. There is no +doubt that the Queen and her husband personally urged on these deeds, because +they wrote to the Council, urging them to be active in the kindling of the +fearful fires. As Cranmer was known not to be a firm man, a plan was laid for +surrounding him with artful people, and inducing him to recant to the +unreformed religion. Deans and friars visited him, played at bowls with him, +showed him various attentions, talked persuasively with him, gave him money for +his prison comforts, and induced him to sign, I fear, as many as six +recantations. But when, after all, he was taken out to be burnt, he was nobly +true to his better self, and made a glorious end. +</p> + +<p> +After prayers and a sermon, Dr. Cole, the preacher of the day (who had been one +of the artful priests about Cranmer in prison), required him to make a public +confession of his faith before the people. This, Cole did, expecting that he +would declare himself a Roman Catholic. ‘I will make a profession of my +faith,’ said Cranmer, ‘and with a good will too.’ +</p> + +<p> +Then, he arose before them all, and took from the sleeve of his robe a written +prayer and read it aloud. That done, he kneeled and said the Lord’s +Prayer, all the people joining; and then he arose again and told them that he +believed in the Bible, and that in what he had lately written, he had written +what was not the truth, and that, because his right hand had signed those +papers, he would burn his right hand first when he came to the fire. As for the +Pope, he did refuse him and denounce him as the enemy of Heaven. Hereupon the +pious Dr. Cole cried out to the guards to stop that heretic’s mouth and +take him away. +</p> + +<p> +So they took him away, and chained him to the stake, where he hastily took off +his own clothes to make ready for the flames. And he stood before the people +with a bald head and a white and flowing beard. He was so firm now when the +worst was come, that he again declared against his recantation, and was so +impressive and so undismayed, that a certain lord, who was one of the directors +of the execution, called out to the men to make haste! When the fire was +lighted, Cranmer, true to his latest word, stretched out his right hand, and +crying out, ‘This hand hath offended!’ held it among the flames, +until it blazed and burned away. His heart was found entire among his ashes, +and he left at last a memorable name in English history. Cardinal Pole +celebrated the day by saying his first mass, and next day he was made +Archbishop of Canterbury in Cranmer’s place. +</p> + +<p> +The Queen’s husband, who was now mostly abroad in his own dominions, and +generally made a coarse jest of her to his more familiar courtiers, was at war +with France, and came over to seek the assistance of England. England was very +unwilling to engage in a French war for his sake; but it happened that the King +of France, at this very time, aided a descent upon the English coast. Hence, +war was declared, greatly to Philip’s satisfaction; and the Queen raised +a sum of money with which to carry it on, by every unjustifiable means in her +power. It met with no profitable return, for the French Duke of Guise surprised +Calais, and the English sustained a complete defeat. The losses they met with +in France greatly mortified the national pride, and the Queen never recovered +the blow. +</p> + +<p> +There was a bad fever raging in England at this time, and I am glad to write +that the Queen took it, and the hour of her death came. ‘When I am dead +and my body is opened,’ she said to those around those around her, +‘ye shall find <span class="smcap">Calais</span> written on my +heart.’ I should have thought, if anything were written on it, they would +have found the words—<span class="smcap">Jane Grey</span>, <span +class="smcap">Hooper</span>, <span class="smcap">Rogers</span>, <span +class="smcap">Ridley</span>, <span class="smcap">Latimer</span>, <span +class="smcap">Cranmer</span>, <span class="smcap">and three hundred people +burnt alive within four years of my wicked reign</span>, <span +class="smcap">including sixty women and forty little children</span>. But it is +enough that their deaths were written in Heaven. +</p> + +<p> +The Queen died on the seventeenth of November, fifteen hundred and fifty-eight, +after reigning not quite five years and a half, and in the forty-fourth year of +her age. Cardinal Pole died of the same fever next day. +</p> + +<p> +As <span class="smcap">Bloody Queen Mary</span>, this woman has become famous, +and as <span class="smcap">Bloody Queen Mary</span>, she will ever be justly +remembered with horror and detestation in Great Britain. Her memory has been +held in such abhorrence that some writers have arisen in later years to take +her part, and to show that she was, upon the whole, quite an amiable and +cheerful sovereign! ‘By their fruits ye shall know them,’ said +<span class="smcap">Our Saviour</span>. The stake and the fire were the fruits +of this reign, and you will judge this Queen by nothing else. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap31"></a>CHAPTER XXXI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER ELIZABETH</h2> + +<p> +There was great rejoicing all over the land when the Lords of the Council went +down to Hatfield, to hail the Princess Elizabeth as the new Queen of England. +Weary of the barbarities of Mary’s reign, the people looked with hope and +gladness to the new Sovereign. The nation seemed to wake from a horrible dream; +and Heaven, so long hidden by the smoke of the fires that roasted men and women +to death, appeared to brighten once more. +</p> + +<p> +Queen Elizabeth was five-and-twenty years of age when she rode through the +streets of London, from the Tower to Westminster Abbey, to be crowned. Her +countenance was strongly marked, but on the whole, commanding and dignified; +her hair was red, and her nose something too long and sharp for a +woman’s. She was not the beautiful creature her courtiers made out; but +she was well enough, and no doubt looked all the better for coming after the +dark and gloomy Mary. She was well educated, but a roundabout writer, and +rather a hard swearer and coarse talker. She was clever, but cunning and +deceitful, and inherited much of her father’s violent temper. I mention +this now, because she has been so over-praised by one party, and so over-abused +by another, that it is hardly possible to understand the greater part of her +reign without first understanding what kind of woman she really was. +</p> + +<p> +She began her reign with the great advantage of having a very wise and careful +Minister, <span class="smcap">Sir William Cecil</span>, whom she afterwards +made <span class="smcap">Lord Burleigh</span>. Altogether, the people had +greater reason for rejoicing than they usually had, when there were processions +in the streets; and they were happy with some reason. All kinds of shows and +images were set up; <span class="smcap">Gog</span> and <span +class="smcap">Magog</span> were hoisted to the top of Temple Bar, and (which +was more to the purpose) the Corporation dutifully presented the young Queen +with the sum of a thousand marks in gold—so heavy a present, that she was +obliged to take it into her carriage with both hands. The coronation was a +great success; and, on the next day, one of the courtiers presented a petition +to the new Queen, praying that as it was the custom to release some prisoners +on such occasions, she would have the goodness to release the four Evangelists, +Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, and also the Apostle Saint Paul, who had been +for some time shut up in a strange language so that the people could not get at +them. +</p> + +<p> +To this, the Queen replied that it would be better first to inquire of +themselves whether they desired to be released or not; and, as a means of +finding out, a great public discussion—a sort of religious +tournament—was appointed to take place between certain champions of the +two religions, in Westminster Abbey. You may suppose that it was soon made +pretty clear to common sense, that for people to benefit by what they repeat or +read, it is rather necessary they should understand something about it. +Accordingly, a Church Service in plain English was settled, and other laws and +regulations were made, completely establishing the great work of the +Reformation. The Romish bishops and champions were not harshly dealt with, all +things considered; and the Queen’s Ministers were both prudent and +merciful. +</p> + +<p> +The one great trouble of this reign, and the unfortunate cause of the greater +part of such turmoil and bloodshed as occurred in it, was <span +class="smcap">Mary Stuart</span>, <span class="smcap">Queen of Scots</span>. We +will try to understand, in as few words as possible, who Mary was, what she +was, and how she came to be a thorn in the royal pillow of Elizabeth. +</p> + +<p> +She was the daughter of the Queen Regent of Scotland, <span class="smcap">Mary +of Guise</span>. She had been married, when a mere child, to the Dauphin, the +son and heir of the King of France. The Pope, who pretended that no one could +rightfully wear the crown of England without his gracious permission, was +strongly opposed to Elizabeth, who had not asked for the said gracious +permission. And as Mary Queen of Scots would have inherited the English crown +in right of her birth, supposing the English Parliament not to have altered the +succession, the Pope himself, and most of the discontented who were followers +of his, maintained that Mary was the rightful Queen of England, and Elizabeth +the wrongful Queen. Mary being so closely connected with France, and France +being jealous of England, there was far greater danger in this than there would +have been if she had had no alliance with that great power. And when her young +husband, on the death of his father, became <span class="smcap">Francis the +Second</span>, King of France, the matter grew very serious. For, the young +couple styled themselves King and Queen of England, and the Pope was disposed +to help them by doing all the mischief he could. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the reformed religion, under the guidance of a stern and powerful +preacher, named <span class="smcap">John Knox</span>, and other such men, had +been making fierce progress in Scotland. It was still a half savage country, +where there was a great deal of murdering and rioting continually going on; and +the Reformers, instead of reforming those evils as they should have done, went +to work in the ferocious old Scottish spirit, laying churches and chapels +waste, pulling down pictures and altars, and knocking about the Grey Friars, +and the Black Friars, and the White Friars, and the friars of all sorts of +colours, in all directions. This obdurate and harsh spirit of the Scottish +Reformers (the Scotch have always been rather a sullen and frowning people in +religious matters) put up the blood of the Romish French court, and caused +France to send troops over to Scotland, with the hope of setting the friars of +all sorts of colours on their legs again; of conquering that country first, and +England afterwards; and so crushing the Reformation all to pieces. The Scottish +Reformers, who had formed a great league which they called The Congregation of +the Lord, secretly represented to Elizabeth that, if the reformed religion got +the worst of it with them, it would be likely to get the worst of it in England +too; and thus, Elizabeth, though she had a high notion of the rights of Kings +and Queens to do anything they liked, sent an army to Scotland to support the +Reformers, who were in arms against their sovereign. All these proceedings led +to a treaty of peace at Edinburgh, under which the French consented to depart +from the kingdom. By a separate treaty, Mary and her young husband engaged to +renounce their assumed title of King and Queen of England. But this treaty they +never fulfilled. +</p> + +<p> +It happened, soon after matters had got to this state, that the young French +King died, leaving Mary a young widow. She was then invited by her Scottish +subjects to return home and reign over them; and as she was not now happy where +she was, she, after a little time, complied. +</p> + +<p> +Elizabeth had been Queen three years, when Mary Queen of Scots embarked at +Calais for her own rough, quarrelling country. As she came out of the harbour, +a vessel was lost before her eyes, and she said, ‘O! good God! what an +omen this is for such a voyage!’ She was very fond of France, and sat on +the deck, looking back at it and weeping, until it was quite dark. When she +went to bed, she directed to be called at daybreak, if the French coast were +still visible, that she might behold it for the last time. As it proved to be a +clear morning, this was done, and she again wept for the country she was +leaving, and said many times, ‘Farewell, France! Farewell, France! I +shall never see thee again!’ All this was long remembered afterwards, as +sorrowful and interesting in a fair young princess of nineteen. Indeed, I am +afraid it gradually came, together with her other distresses, to surround her +with greater sympathy than she deserved. +</p> + +<p> +When she came to Scotland, and took up her abode at the palace of Holyrood in +Edinburgh, she found herself among uncouth strangers and wild uncomfortable +customs very different from her experiences in the court of France. The very +people who were disposed to love her, made her head ache when she was tired out +by her voyage, with a serenade of discordant music—a fearful concert of +bagpipes, I suppose—and brought her and her train home to her palace on +miserable little Scotch horses that appeared to be half starved. Among the +people who were not disposed to love her, she found the powerful leaders of the +Reformed Church, who were bitter upon her amusements, however innocent, and +denounced music and dancing as works of the devil. John Knox himself often +lectured her, violently and angrily, and did much to make her life unhappy. All +these reasons confirmed her old attachment to the Romish religion, and caused +her, there is no doubt, most imprudently and dangerously both for herself and +for England too, to give a solemn pledge to the heads of the Romish Church that +if she ever succeeded to the English crown, she would set up that religion +again. In reading her unhappy history, you must always remember this; and also +that during her whole life she was constantly put forward against the Queen, in +some form or other, by the Romish party. +</p> + +<p> +That Elizabeth, on the other hand, was not inclined to like her, is pretty +certain. Elizabeth was very vain and jealous, and had an extraordinary dislike +to people being married. She treated Lady Catherine Grey, sister of the +beheaded Lady Jane, with such shameful severity, for no other reason than her +being secretly married, that she died and her husband was ruined; so, when a +second marriage for Mary began to be talked about, probably Elizabeth disliked +her more. Not that Elizabeth wanted suitors of her own, for they started up +from Spain, Austria, Sweden, and England. Her English lover at this time, and +one whom she much favoured too, was <span class="smcap">Lord Robert +Dudley</span>, Earl of Leicester—himself secretly married to <span +class="smcap">Amy Robsart</span>, the daughter of an English gentleman, whom he +was strongly suspected of causing to be murdered, down at his country seat, +Cumnor Hall in Berkshire, that he might be free to marry the Queen. Upon this +story, the great writer, <span class="smcap">Sir Walter Scott</span>, has +founded one of his best romances. But if Elizabeth knew how to lead her +handsome favourite on, for her own vanity and pleasure, she knew how to stop +him for her own pride; and his love, and all the other proposals, came to +nothing. The Queen always declared in good set speeches, that she would never +be married at all, but would live and die a Maiden Queen. It was a very +pleasant and meritorious declaration, I suppose; but it has been puffed and +trumpeted so much, that I am rather tired of it myself. +</p> + +<p> +Divers princes proposed to marry Mary, but the English court had reasons for +being jealous of them all, and even proposed as a matter of policy that she +should marry that very Earl of Leicester who had aspired to be the husband of +Elizabeth. At last, <span class="smcap">Lord Darnley</span>, son of the Earl of +Lennox, and himself descended from the Royal Family of Scotland, went over with +Elizabeth’s consent to try his fortune at Holyrood. He was a tall +simpleton; and could dance and play the guitar; but I know of nothing else he +could do, unless it were to get very drunk, and eat gluttonously, and make a +contemptible spectacle of himself in many mean and vain ways. However, he +gained Mary’s heart, not disdaining in the pursuit of his object to ally +himself with one of her secretaries, <span class="smcap">David Rizzio</span>, +who had great influence with her. He soon married the Queen. This marriage does +not say much for her, but what followed will presently say less. +</p> + +<p> +Mary’s brother, the <span class="smcap">Earl of Murray</span>, and head +of the Protestant party in Scotland, had opposed this marriage, partly on +religious grounds, and partly perhaps from personal dislike of the very +contemptible bridegroom. When it had taken place, through Mary’s gaining +over to it the more powerful of the lords about her, she banished Murray for +his pains; and, when he and some other nobles rose in arms to support the +reformed religion, she herself, within a month of her wedding day, rode against +them in armour with loaded pistols in her saddle. Driven out of Scotland, they +presented themselves before Elizabeth—who called them traitors in public, +and assisted them in private, according to her crafty nature. +</p> + +<p> +Mary had been married but a little while, when she began to hate her husband, +who, in his turn, began to hate that David Rizzio, with whom he had leagued to +gain her favour, and whom he now believed to be her lover. He hated Rizzio to +that extent, that he made a compact with <span class="smcap">Lord +Ruthven</span> and three other lords to get rid of him by murder. This wicked +agreement they made in solemn secrecy upon the first of March, fifteen hundred +and sixty-six, and on the night of Saturday the ninth, the conspirators were +brought by Darnley up a private staircase, dark and steep, into a range of +rooms where they knew that Mary was sitting at supper with her sister, Lady +Argyle, and this doomed man. When they went into the room, Darnley took the +Queen round the waist, and Lord Ruthven, who had risen from a bed of sickness +to do this murder, came in, gaunt and ghastly, leaning on two men. Rizzio ran +behind the Queen for shelter and protection. ‘Let him come out of the +room,’ said Ruthven. ‘He shall not leave the room,’ replied +the Queen; ‘I read his danger in your face, and it is my will that he +remain here.’ They then set upon him, struggled with him, overturned the +table, dragged him out, and killed him with fifty-six stabs. When the Queen +heard that he was dead, she said, ‘No more tears. I will think now of +revenge!’ +</p> + +<p> +Within a day or two, she gained her husband over, and prevailed on the tall +idiot to abandon the conspirators and fly with her to Dunbar. There, he issued +a proclamation, audaciously and falsely denying that he had any knowledge of +the late bloody business; and there they were joined by the <span +class="smcap">Earl Bothwell</span> and some other nobles. With their help, they +raised eight thousand men; returned to Edinburgh, and drove the assassins into +England. Mary soon afterwards gave birth to a son—still thinking of +revenge. +</p> + +<p> +That she should have had a greater scorn for her husband after his late +cowardice and treachery than she had had before, was natural enough. There is +little doubt that she now began to love Bothwell instead, and to plan with him +means of getting rid of Darnley. Bothwell had such power over her that he +induced her even to pardon the assassins of Rizzio. The arrangements for the +Christening of the young Prince were entrusted to him, and he was one of the +most important people at the ceremony, where the child was named <span +class="smcap">James</span>: Elizabeth being his godmother, though not present +on the occasion. A week afterwards, Darnley, who had left Mary and gone to his +father’s house at Glasgow, being taken ill with the small-pox, she sent +her own physician to attend him. But there is reason to apprehend that this was +merely a show and a pretence, and that she knew what was doing, when Bothwell +within another month proposed to one of the late conspirators against Rizzio, +to murder Darnley, ‘for that it was the Queen’s mind that he should +be taken away.’ It is certain that on that very day she wrote to her +ambassador in France, complaining of him, and yet went immediately to Glasgow, +feigning to be very anxious about him, and to love him very much. If she wanted +to get him in her power, she succeeded to her heart’s content; for she +induced him to go back with her to Edinburgh, and to occupy, instead of the +palace, a lone house outside the city called the Kirk of Field. Here, he lived +for about a week. One Sunday night, she remained with him until ten +o’clock, and then left him, to go to Holyrood to be present at an +entertainment given in celebration of the marriage of one of her favourite +servants. At two o’clock in the morning the city was shaken by a great +explosion, and the Kirk of Field was blown to atoms. +</p> + +<p> +Darnley’s body was found next day lying under a tree at some distance. +How it came there, undisfigured and unscorched by gunpowder, and how this crime +came to be so clumsily and strangely committed, it is impossible to discover. +The deceitful character of Mary, and the deceitful character of Elizabeth, have +rendered almost every part of their joint history uncertain and obscure. But, I +fear that Mary was unquestionably a party to her husband’s murder, and +that this was the revenge she had threatened. The Scotch people universally +believed it. Voices cried out in the streets of Edinburgh in the dead of the +night, for justice on the murderess. Placards were posted by unknown hands in +the public places denouncing Bothwell as the murderer, and the Queen as his +accomplice; and, when he afterwards married her (though himself already +married), previously making a show of taking her prisoner by force, the +indignation of the people knew no bounds. The women particularly are described +as having been quite frantic against the Queen, and to have hooted and cried +after her in the streets with terrific vehemence. +</p> + +<p> +Such guilty unions seldom prosper. This husband and wife had lived together but +a month, when they were separated for ever by the successes of a band of Scotch +nobles who associated against them for the protection of the young Prince: whom +Bothwell had vainly endeavoured to lay hold of, and whom he would certainly +have murdered, if the <span class="smcap">Earl of Mar</span>, in whose hands +the boy was, had not been firmly and honourably faithful to his trust. Before +this angry power, Bothwell fled abroad, where he died, a prisoner and mad, nine +miserable years afterwards. Mary being found by the associated lords to deceive +them at every turn, was sent a prisoner to Lochleven Castle; which, as it stood +in the midst of a lake, could only be approached by boat. Here, one <span +class="smcap">Lord Lindsay</span>, who was so much of a brute that the nobles +would have done better if they had chosen a mere gentleman for their messenger, +made her sign her abdication, and appoint Murray, Regent of Scotland. Here, +too, Murray saw her in a sorrowing and humbled state. +</p> + +<p> +She had better have remained in the castle of Lochleven, dull prison as it was, +with the rippling of the lake against it, and the moving shadows of the water +on the room walls; but she could not rest there, and more than once tried to +escape. The first time she had nearly succeeded, dressed in the clothes of her +own washer-woman, but, putting up her hand to prevent one of the boatmen from +lifting her veil, the men suspected her, seeing how white it was, and rowed her +back again. A short time afterwards, her fascinating manners enlisted in her +cause a boy in the Castle, called the little <span +class="smcap">Douglas</span>, who, while the family were at supper, stole the +keys of the great gate, went softly out with the Queen, locked the gate on the +outside, and rowed her away across the lake, sinking the keys as they went +along. On the opposite shore she was met by another Douglas, and some few +lords; and, so accompanied, rode away on horseback to Hamilton, where they +raised three thousand men. Here, she issued a proclamation declaring that the +abdication she had signed in her prison was illegal, and requiring the Regent +to yield to his lawful Queen. Being a steady soldier, and in no way discomposed +although he was without an army, Murray pretended to treat with her, until he +had collected a force about half equal to her own, and then he gave her battle. +In one quarter of an hour he cut down all her hopes. She had another weary ride +on horse-back of sixty long Scotch miles, and took shelter at Dundrennan Abbey, +whence she fled for safety to Elizabeth’s dominions. +</p> + +<p> +Mary Queen of Scots came to England—to her own ruin, the trouble of the +kingdom, and the misery and death of many—in the year one thousand five +hundred and sixty-eight. How she left it and the world, nineteen years +afterwards, we have now to see. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +When Mary Queen of Scots arrived in England, without money and even without any +other clothes than those she wore, she wrote to Elizabeth, representing herself +as an innocent and injured piece of Royalty, and entreating her assistance to +oblige her Scottish subjects to take her back again and obey her. But, as her +character was already known in England to be a very different one from what she +made it out to be, she was told in answer that she must first clear herself. +Made uneasy by this condition, Mary, rather than stay in England, would have +gone to Spain, or to France, or would even have gone back to Scotland. But, as +her doing either would have been likely to trouble England afresh, it was +decided that she should be detained here. She first came to Carlisle, and, +after that, was moved about from castle to castle, as was considered necessary; +but England she never left again. +</p> + +<p> +After trying very hard to get rid of the necessity of clearing herself, Mary, +advised by <span class="smcap">Lord Herries</span>, her best friend in England, +agreed to answer the charges against her, if the Scottish noblemen who made +them would attend to maintain them before such English noblemen as Elizabeth +might appoint for that purpose. Accordingly, such an assembly, under the name +of a conference, met, first at York, and afterwards at Hampton Court. In its +presence Lord Lennox, Darnley’s father, openly charged Mary with the +murder of his son; and whatever Mary’s friends may now say or write in +her behalf, there is no doubt that, when her brother Murray produced against +her a casket containing certain guilty letters and verses which he stated to +have passed between her and Bothwell, she withdrew from the inquiry. +Consequently, it is to be supposed that she was then considered guilty by those +who had the best opportunities of judging of the truth, and that the feeling +which afterwards arose in her behalf was a very generous but not a very +reasonable one. +</p> + +<p> +However, the <span class="smcap">Duke of Norfolk</span>, an honourable but +rather weak nobleman, partly because Mary was captivating, partly because he +was ambitious, partly because he was over-persuaded by artful plotters against +Elizabeth, conceived a strong idea that he would like to marry the Queen of +Scots—though he was a little frightened, too, by the letters in the +casket. This idea being secretly encouraged by some of the noblemen of +Elizabeth’s court, and even by the favourite Earl of Leicester (because +it was objected to by other favourites who were his rivals), Mary expressed her +approval of it, and the King of France and the King of Spain are supposed to +have done the same. It was not so quietly planned, though, but that it came to +Elizabeth’s ears, who warned the Duke ‘to be careful what sort of +pillow he was going to lay his head upon.’ He made a humble reply at the +time; but turned sulky soon afterwards, and, being considered dangerous, was +sent to the Tower. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, from the moment of Mary’s coming to England she began to be the +centre of plots and miseries. +</p> + +<p> +A rise of the Catholics in the north was the next of these, and it was only +checked by many executions and much bloodshed. It was followed by a great +conspiracy of the Pope and some of the Catholic sovereigns of Europe to depose +Elizabeth, place Mary on the throne, and restore the unreformed religion. It is +almost impossible to doubt that Mary knew and approved of this; and the Pope +himself was so hot in the matter that he issued a bull, in which he openly +called Elizabeth the ‘pretended Queen’ of England, excommunicated +her, and excommunicated all her subjects who should continue to obey her. A +copy of this miserable paper got into London, and was found one morning +publicly posted on the Bishop of London’s gate. A great hue and cry being +raised, another copy was found in the chamber of a student of Lincoln’s +Inn, who confessed, being put upon the rack, that he had received it from one +<span class="smcap">John Felton</span>, a rich gentleman who lived across the +Thames, near Southwark. This John Felton, being put upon the rack too, +confessed that he had posted the placard on the Bishop’s gate. For this +offence he was, within four days, taken to St. Paul’s Churchyard, and +there hanged and quartered. As to the Pope’s bull, the people by the +reformation having thrown off the Pope, did not care much, you may suppose, for +the Pope’s throwing off them. It was a mere dirty piece of paper, and not +half so powerful as a street ballad. +</p> + +<p> +On the very day when Felton was brought to his trial, the poor Duke of Norfolk +was released. It would have been well for him if he had kept away from the +Tower evermore, and from the snares that had taken him there. But, even while +he was in that dismal place he corresponded with Mary, and as soon as he was +out of it, he began to plot again. Being discovered in correspondence with the +Pope, with a view to a rising in England which should force Elizabeth to +consent to his marriage with Mary and to repeal the laws against the Catholics, +he was re-committed to the Tower and brought to trial. He was found guilty by +the unanimous verdict of the Lords who tried him, and was sentenced to the +block. +</p> + +<p> +It is very difficult to make out, at this distance of time, and between +opposite accounts, whether Elizabeth really was a humane woman, or desired to +appear so, or was fearful of shedding the blood of people of great name who +were popular in the country. Twice she commanded and countermanded the +execution of this Duke, and it did not take place until five months after his +trial. The scaffold was erected on Tower Hill, and there he died like a brave +man. He refused to have his eyes bandaged, saying that he was not at all afraid +of death; and he admitted the justice of his sentence, and was much regretted +by the people. +</p> + +<p> +Although Mary had shrunk at the most important time from disproving her guilt, +she was very careful never to do anything that would admit it. All such +proposals as were made to her by Elizabeth for her release, required that +admission in some form or other, and therefore came to nothing. Moreover, both +women being artful and treacherous, and neither ever trusting the other, it was +not likely that they could ever make an agreement. So, the Parliament, +aggravated by what the Pope had done, made new and strong laws against the +spreading of the Catholic religion in England, and declared it treason in any +one to say that the Queen and her successors were not the lawful sovereigns of +England. It would have done more than this, but for Elizabeth’s +moderation. +</p> + +<p> +Since the Reformation, there had come to be three great sects of religious +people—or people who called themselves so—in England; that is to +say, those who belonged to the Reformed Church, those who belonged to the +Unreformed Church, and those who were called the Puritans, because they said +that they wanted to have everything very pure and plain in all the Church +service. These last were for the most part an uncomfortable people, who thought +it highly meritorious to dress in a hideous manner, talk through their noses, +and oppose all harmless enjoyments. But they were powerful too, and very much +in earnest, and they were one and all the determined enemies of the Queen of +Scots. The Protestant feeling in England was further strengthened by the +tremendous cruelties to which Protestants were exposed in France and in the +Netherlands. Scores of thousands of them were put to death in those countries +with every cruelty that can be imagined, and at last, in the autumn of the year +one thousand five hundred and seventy-two, one of the greatest barbarities ever +committed in the world took place at Paris. +</p> + +<p> +It is called in history, <span class="smcap">The Massacre of Saint +Bartholomew</span>, because it took place on Saint Bartholomew’s Eve. The +day fell on Saturday the twenty-third of August. On that day all the great +leaders of the Protestants (who were there called <span +class="smcap">Huguenots</span>) were assembled together, for the purpose, as +was represented to them, of doing honour to the marriage of their chief, the +young King of Navarre, with the sister of <span class="smcap">Charles the +Ninth</span>: a miserable young King who then occupied the French throne. This +dull creature was made to believe by his mother and other fierce Catholics +about him that the Huguenots meant to take his life; and he was persuaded to +give secret orders that, on the tolling of a great bell, they should be fallen +upon by an overpowering force of armed men, and slaughtered wherever they could +be found. When the appointed hour was close at hand, the stupid wretch, +trembling from head to foot, was taken into a balcony by his mother to see the +atrocious work begun. The moment the bell tolled, the murderers broke forth. +During all that night and the two next days, they broke into the houses, fired +the houses, shot and stabbed the Protestants, men, women, and children, and +flung their bodies into the streets. They were shot at in the streets as they +passed along, and their blood ran down the gutters. Upwards of ten thousand +Protestants were killed in Paris alone; in all France four or five times that +number. To return thanks to Heaven for these diabolical murders, the Pope and +his train actually went in public procession at Rome, and as if this were not +shame enough for them, they had a medal struck to commemorate the event. But, +however comfortable the wholesale murders were to these high authorities, they +had not that soothing effect upon the doll-King. I am happy to state that he +never knew a moment’s peace afterwards; that he was continually crying +out that he saw the Huguenots covered with blood and wounds falling dead before +him; and that he died within a year, shrieking and yelling and raving to that +degree, that if all the Popes who had ever lived had been rolled into one, they +would not have afforded His guilty Majesty the slightest consolation. +</p> + +<p> +When the terrible news of the massacre arrived in England, it made a powerful +impression indeed upon the people. If they began to run a little wild against +the Catholics at about this time, this fearful reason for it, coming so soon +after the days of bloody Queen Mary, must be remembered in their excuse. The +Court was not quite so honest as the people—but perhaps it sometimes is +not. It received the French ambassador, with all the lords and ladies dressed +in deep mourning, and keeping a profound silence. Nevertheless, a proposal of +marriage which he had made to Elizabeth only two days before the eve of Saint +Bartholomew, on behalf of the Duke of Alençon, the French King’s +brother, a boy of seventeen, still went on; while on the other hand, in her +usual crafty way, the Queen secretly supplied the Huguenots with money and +weapons. +</p> + +<p> +I must say that for a Queen who made all those fine speeches, of which I have +confessed myself to be rather tired, about living and dying a Maiden Queen, +Elizabeth was ‘going’ to be married pretty often. Besides always +having some English favourite or other whom she by turns encouraged and swore +at and knocked about—for the maiden Queen was very free with her +fists—she held this French Duke off and on through several years. When he +at last came over to England, the marriage articles were actually drawn up, and +it was settled that the wedding should take place in six weeks. The Queen was +then so bent upon it, that she prosecuted a poor Puritan named <span +class="smcap">Stubbs</span>, and a poor bookseller named <span +class="smcap">Page</span>, for writing and publishing a pamphlet against it. +Their right hands were chopped off for this crime; and poor Stubbs—more +loyal than I should have been myself under the circumstances—immediately +pulled off his hat with his left hand, and cried, ‘God save the +Queen!’ Stubbs was cruelly treated; for the marriage never took place +after all, though the Queen pledged herself to the Duke with a ring from her +own finger. He went away, no better than he came, when the courtship had lasted +some ten years altogether; and he died a couple of years afterwards, mourned by +Elizabeth, who appears to have been really fond of him. It is not much to her +credit, for he was a bad enough member of a bad family. +</p> + +<p> +To return to the Catholics. There arose two orders of priests, who were very +busy in England, and who were much dreaded. These were the <span +class="smcap">Jesuits</span> (who were everywhere in all sorts of disguises), +and the <span class="smcap">Seminary Priests</span>. The people had a great +horror of the first, because they were known to have taught that murder was +lawful if it were done with an object of which they approved; and they had a +great horror of the second, because they came to teach the old religion, and to +be the successors of ‘Queen Mary’s priests,’ as those yet +lingering in England were called, when they should die out. The severest laws +were made against them, and were most unmercifully executed. Those who +sheltered them in their houses often suffered heavily for what was an act of +humanity; and the rack, that cruel torture which tore men’s limbs +asunder, was constantly kept going. What these unhappy men confessed, or what +was ever confessed by any one under that agony, must always be received with +great doubt, as it is certain that people have frequently owned to the most +absurd and impossible crimes to escape such dreadful suffering. But I cannot +doubt it to have been proved by papers, that there were many plots, both among +the Jesuits, and with France, and with Scotland, and with Spain, for the +destruction of Queen Elizabeth, for the placing of Mary on the throne, and for +the revival of the old religion. +</p> + +<p> +If the English people were too ready to believe in plots, there were, as I have +said, good reasons for it. When the massacre of Saint Bartholomew was yet fresh +in their recollection, a great Protestant Dutch hero, the <span +class="smcap">Prince of Orange</span>, was shot by an assassin, who confessed +that he had been kept and trained for the purpose in a college of Jesuits. The +Dutch, in this surprise and distress, offered to make Elizabeth their +sovereign, but she declined the honour, and sent them a small army instead, +under the command of the Earl of Leicester, who, although a capital Court +favourite, was not much of a general. He did so little in Holland, that his +campaign there would probably have been forgotten, but for its occasioning the +death of one of the best writers, the best knights, and the best gentlemen, of +that or any age. This was <span class="smcap">Sir Philip Sidney</span>, who was +wounded by a musket ball in the thigh as he mounted a fresh horse, after having +had his own killed under him. He had to ride back wounded, a long distance, and +was very faint with fatigue and loss of blood, when some water, for which he +had eagerly asked, was handed to him. But he was so good and gentle even then, +that seeing a poor badly wounded common soldier lying on the ground, looking at +the water with longing eyes, he said, ‘Thy necessity is greater than +mine,’ and gave it up to him. This touching action of a noble heart is +perhaps as well known as any incident in history—is as famous far and +wide as the blood-stained Tower of London, with its axe, and block, and murders +out of number. So delightful is an act of true humanity, and so glad are +mankind to remember it. +</p> + +<p> +At home, intelligence of plots began to thicken every day. I suppose the people +never did live under such continual terrors as those by which they were +possessed now, of Catholic risings, and burnings, and poisonings, and I +don’t know what. Still, we must always remember that they lived near and +close to awful realities of that kind, and that with their experience it was +not difficult to believe in any enormity. The government had the same fear, and +did not take the best means of discovering the truth—for, besides +torturing the suspected, it employed paid spies, who will always lie for their +own profit. It even made some of the conspiracies it brought to light, by +sending false letters to disaffected people, inviting them to join in pretended +plots, which they too readily did. +</p> + +<p> +But, one great real plot was at length discovered, and it ended the career of +Mary, Queen of Scots. A seminary priest named <span +class="smcap">Ballard</span>, and a Spanish soldier named <span +class="smcap">Savage</span>, set on and encouraged by certain French priests, +imparted a design to one <span class="smcap">Antony Babington</span>—a +gentleman of fortune in Derbyshire, who had been for some time a secret agent +of Mary’s—for murdering the Queen. Babington then confided the +scheme to some other Catholic gentlemen who were his friends, and they joined +in it heartily. They were vain, weak-headed young men, ridiculously confident, +and preposterously proud of their plan; for they got a gimcrack painting made, +of the six choice spirits who were to murder Elizabeth, with Babington in an +attitude for the centre figure. Two of their number, however, one of whom was a +priest, kept Elizabeth’s wisest minister, <span class="smcap">Sir Francis +Walsingham</span>, acquainted with the whole project from the first. The +conspirators were completely deceived to the final point, when Babington gave +Savage, because he was shabby, a ring from his finger, and some money from his +purse, wherewith to buy himself new clothes in which to kill the Queen. +Walsingham, having then full evidence against the whole band, and two letters +of Mary’s besides, resolved to seize them. Suspecting something wrong, +they stole out of the city, one by one, and hid themselves in St. John’s +Wood, and other places which really were hiding places then; but they were all +taken, and all executed. When they were seized, a gentleman was sent from Court +to inform Mary of the fact, and of her being involved in the discovery. Her +friends have complained that she was kept in very hard and severe custody. It +does not appear very likely, for she was going out a hunting that very morning. +</p> + +<p> +Queen Elizabeth had been warned long ago, by one in France who had good +information of what was secretly doing, that in holding Mary alive, she held +‘the wolf who would devour her.’ The Bishop of London had, more +lately, given the Queen’s favourite minister the advice in writing, +‘forthwith to cut off the Scottish Queen’s head.’ The +question now was, what to do with her? The Earl of Leicester wrote a little +note home from Holland, recommending that she should be quietly poisoned; that +noble favourite having accustomed his mind, it is possible, to remedies of that +nature. His black advice, however, was disregarded, and she was brought to +trial at Fotheringay Castle in Northamptonshire, before a tribunal of forty, +composed of both religions. There, and in the Star Chamber at Westminster, the +trial lasted a fortnight. She defended herself with great ability, but could +only deny the confessions that had been made by Babington and others; could +only call her own letters, produced against her by her own secretaries, +forgeries; and, in short, could only deny everything. She was found guilty, and +declared to have incurred the penalty of death. The Parliament met, approved +the sentence, and prayed the Queen to have it executed. The Queen replied that +she requested them to consider whether no means could be found of saving +Mary’s life without endangering her own. The Parliament rejoined, No; and +the citizens illuminated their houses and lighted bonfires, in token of their +joy that all these plots and troubles were to be ended by the death of the +Queen of Scots. +</p> + +<div class="fig" style="width:100%;"> +<a href="images/p240b.jpg"> +<img alt="Mary Queen of Scots Reading the death warrant" src="images/p240s.jpg" /></a> +</div> + +<p> +She, feeling sure that her time was now come, wrote a letter to the Queen of +England, making three entreaties; first, that she might be buried in France; +secondly, that she might not be executed in secret, but before her servants and +some others; thirdly, that after her death, her servants should not be +molested, but should be suffered to go home with the legacies she left them. It +was an affecting letter, and Elizabeth shed tears over it, but sent no answer. +Then came a special ambassador from France, and another from Scotland, to +intercede for Mary’s life; and then the nation began to clamour, more and +more, for her death. +</p> + +<p> +What the real feelings or intentions of Elizabeth were, can never be known now; +but I strongly suspect her of only wishing one thing more than Mary’s +death, and that was to keep free of the blame of it. On the first of February, +one thousand five hundred and eighty-seven, Lord Burleigh having drawn out the +warrant for the execution, the Queen sent to the secretary <span +class="smcap">Davison</span> to bring it to her, that she might sign it: which +she did. Next day, when Davison told her it was sealed, she angrily asked him +why such haste was necessary? Next day but one, she joked about it, and swore a +little. Again, next day but one, she seemed to complain that it was not yet +done, but still she would not be plain with those about her. So, on the +seventh, the Earls of Kent and Shrewsbury, with the Sheriff of +Northamptonshire, came with the warrant to Fotheringay, to tell the Queen of +Scots to prepare for death. +</p> + +<p> +When those messengers of ill omen were gone, Mary made a frugal supper, drank +to her servants, read over her will, went to bed, slept for some hours, and +then arose and passed the remainder of the night saying prayers. In the morning +she dressed herself in her best clothes; and, at eight o’clock when the +sheriff came for her to her chapel, took leave of her servants who were there +assembled praying with her, and went down-stairs, carrying a Bible in one hand +and a crucifix in the other. Two of her women and four of her men were allowed +to be present in the hall; where a low scaffold, only two feet from the ground, +was erected and covered with black; and where the executioner from the Tower, +and his assistant, stood, dressed in black velvet. The hall was full of people. +While the sentence was being read she sat upon a stool; and, when it was +finished, she again denied her guilt, as she had done before. The Earl of Kent +and the Dean of Peterborough, in their Protestant zeal, made some very +unnecessary speeches to her; to which she replied that she died in the Catholic +religion, and they need not trouble themselves about that matter. When her head +and neck were uncovered by the executioners, she said that she had not been +used to be undressed by such hands, or before so much company. Finally, one of +her women fastened a cloth over her face, and she laid her neck upon the block, +and repeated more than once in Latin, ‘Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend +my spirit!’ Some say her head was struck off in two blows, some say in +three. However that be, when it was held up, streaming with blood, the real +hair beneath the false hair she had long worn was seen to be as grey as that of +a woman of seventy, though she was at that time only in her forty-sixth year. +All her beauty was gone. +</p> + +<p> +But she was beautiful enough to her little dog, who cowered under her dress, +frightened, when she went upon the scaffold, and who lay down beside her +headless body when all her earthly sorrows were over. +</p> + +<h3>THIRD PART</h3> + +<p> +On its being formally made known to Elizabeth that the sentence had been +executed on the Queen of Scots, she showed the utmost grief and rage, drove her +favourites from her with violent indignation, and sent Davison to the Tower; +from which place he was only released in the end by paying an immense fine +which completely ruined him. Elizabeth not only over-acted her part in making +these pretences, but most basely reduced to poverty one of her faithful +servants for no other fault than obeying her commands. +</p> + +<p> +James, King of Scotland, Mary’s son, made a show likewise of being very +angry on the occasion; but he was a pensioner of England to the amount of five +thousand pounds a year, and he had known very little of his mother, and he +possibly regarded her as the murderer of his father, and he soon took it +quietly. +</p> + +<p> +Philip, King of Spain, however, threatened to do greater things than ever had +been done yet, to set up the Catholic religion and punish Protestant England. +Elizabeth, hearing that he and the Prince of Parma were making great +preparations for this purpose, in order to be beforehand with them sent out +<span class="smcap">Admiral Drake</span> (a famous navigator, who had sailed +about the world, and had already brought great plunder from Spain) to the port +of Cadiz, where he burnt a hundred vessels full of stores. This great loss +obliged the Spaniards to put off the invasion for a year; but it was none the +less formidable for that, amounting to one hundred and thirty ships, nineteen +thousand soldiers, eight thousand sailors, two thousand slaves, and between two +and three thousand great guns. England was not idle in making ready to resist +this great force. All the men between sixteen years old and sixty, were trained +and drilled; the national fleet of ships (in number only thirty-four at first) +was enlarged by public contributions and by private ships, fitted out by +noblemen; the city of London, of its own accord, furnished double the number of +ships and men that it was required to provide; and, if ever the national spirit +was up in England, it was up all through the country to resist the Spaniards. +Some of the Queen’s advisers were for seizing the principal English +Catholics, and putting them to death; but the Queen—who, to her honour, +used to say, that she would never believe any ill of her subjects, which a +parent would not believe of her own children—rejected the advice, and +only confined a few of those who were the most suspected, in the fens in +Lincolnshire. The great body of Catholics deserved this confidence; for they +behaved most loyally, nobly, and bravely. +</p> + +<p> +So, with all England firing up like one strong, angry man, and with both sides +of the Thames fortified, and with the soldiers under arms, and with the sailors +in their ships, the country waited for the coming of the proud Spanish fleet, +which was called <span class="smcap">The Invincible Armada</span>. The Queen +herself, riding in armour on a white horse, and the Earl of Essex and the Earl +of Leicester holding her bridal rein, made a brave speech to the troops at +Tilbury Fort opposite Gravesend, which was received with such enthusiasm as is +seldom known. Then came the Spanish Armada into the English Channel, sailing +along in the form of a half moon, of such great size that it was seven miles +broad. But the English were quickly upon it, and woe then to all the Spanish +ships that dropped a little out of the half moon, for the English took them +instantly! And it soon appeared that the great Armada was anything but +invincible, for on a summer night, bold Drake sent eight blazing fire-ships +right into the midst of it. In terrible consternation the Spaniards tried to +get out to sea, and so became dispersed; the English pursued them at a great +advantage; a storm came on, and drove the Spaniards among rocks and shoals; and +the swift end of the Invincible fleet was, that it lost thirty great ships and +ten thousand men, and, defeated and disgraced, sailed home again. Being afraid +to go by the English Channel, it sailed all round Scotland and Ireland; some of +the ships getting cast away on the latter coast in bad weather, the Irish, who +were a kind of savages, plundered those vessels and killed their crews. So +ended this great attempt to invade and conquer England. And I think it will be +a long time before any other invincible fleet coming to England with the same +object, will fare much better than the Spanish Armada. +</p> + +<p> +Though the Spanish king had had this bitter taste of English bravery, he was so +little the wiser for it, as still to entertain his old designs, and even to +conceive the absurd idea of placing his daughter on the English throne. But the +Earl of Essex, <span class="smcap">Sir Walter Raleigh</span>, <span +class="smcap">Sir Thomas Howard</span>, and some other distinguished leaders, +put to sea from Plymouth, entered the port of Cadiz once more, obtained a +complete victory over the shipping assembled there, and got possession of the +town. In obedience to the Queen’s express instructions, they behaved with +great humanity; and the principal loss of the Spaniards was a vast sum of money +which they had to pay for ransom. This was one of many gallant achievements on +the sea, effected in this reign. Sir Walter Raleigh himself, after marrying a +maid of honour and giving offence to the Maiden Queen thereby, had already +sailed to South America in search of gold. +</p> + +<p> +The Earl of Leicester was now dead, and so was Sir Thomas Walsingham, whom Lord +Burleigh was soon to follow. The principal favourite was the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Essex</span>, a spirited and handsome man, a favourite +with the people too as well as with the Queen, and possessed of many admirable +qualities. It was much debated at Court whether there should be peace with +Spain or no, and he was very urgent for war. He also tried hard to have his own +way in the appointment of a deputy to govern in Ireland. One day, while this +question was in dispute, he hastily took offence, and turned his back upon the +Queen; as a gentle reminder of which impropriety, the Queen gave him a +tremendous box on the ear, and told him to go to the devil. He went home +instead, and did not reappear at Court for half a year or so, when he and the +Queen were reconciled, though never (as some suppose) thoroughly. +</p> + +<p> +From this time the fate of the Earl of Essex and that of the Queen seemed to be +blended together. The Irish were still perpetually quarrelling and fighting +among themselves, and he went over to Ireland as Lord Lieutenant, to the great +joy of his enemies (Sir Walter Raleigh among the rest), who were glad to have +so dangerous a rival far off. Not being by any means successful there, and +knowing that his enemies would take advantage of that circumstance to injure +him with the Queen, he came home again, though against her orders. The Queen +being taken by surprise when he appeared before her, gave him her hand to kiss, +and he was overjoyed—though it was not a very lovely hand by this +time—but in the course of the same day she ordered him to confine himself +to his room, and two or three days afterwards had him taken into custody. With +the same sort of caprice—and as capricious an old woman she now was, as +ever wore a crown or a head either—she sent him broth from her own table +on his falling ill from anxiety, and cried about him. +</p> + +<p> +He was a man who could find comfort and occupation in his books, and he did so +for a time; not the least happy time, I dare say, of his life. But it happened +unfortunately for him, that he held a monopoly in sweet wines: which means that +nobody could sell them without purchasing his permission. This right, which was +only for a term, expiring, he applied to have it renewed. The Queen refused, +with the rather strong observation—but she <i>did</i> make strong +observations—that an unruly beast must be stinted in his food. Upon this, +the angry Earl, who had been already deprived of many offices, thought himself +in danger of complete ruin, and turned against the Queen, whom he called a vain +old woman who had grown as crooked in her mind as she had in her figure. These +uncomplimentary expressions the ladies of the Court immediately snapped up and +carried to the Queen, whom they did not put in a better tempter, you may +believe. The same Court ladies, when they had beautiful dark hair of their own, +used to wear false red hair, to be like the Queen. So they were not very +high-spirited ladies, however high in rank. +</p> + +<p> +The worst object of the Earl of Essex, and some friends of his who used to meet +at <span class="smcap">Lord Southampton’s</span> house, was to obtain +possession of the Queen, and oblige her by force to dismiss her ministers and +change her favourites. On Saturday the seventh of February, one thousand six +hundred and one, the council suspecting this, summoned the Earl to come before +them. He, pretending to be ill, declined; it was then settled among his +friends, that as the next day would be Sunday, when many of the citizens +usually assembled at the Cross by St. Paul’s Cathedral, he should make +one bold effort to induce them to rise and follow him to the Palace. +</p> + +<p> +So, on the Sunday morning, he and a small body of adherents started out of his +house—Essex House by the Strand, with steps to the river—having +first shut up in it, as prisoners, some members of the council who came to +examine him—and hurried into the City with the Earl at their head crying +out ‘For the Queen! For the Queen! A plot is laid for my life!’ No +one heeded them, however, and when they came to St. Paul’s there were no +citizens there. In the meantime the prisoners at Essex House had been released +by one of the Earl’s own friends; he had been promptly proclaimed a +traitor in the City itself; and the streets were barricaded with carts and +guarded by soldiers. The Earl got back to his house by water, with difficulty, +and after an attempt to defend his house against the troops and cannon by which +it was soon surrounded, gave himself up that night. He was brought to trial on +the nineteenth, and found guilty; on the twenty-fifth, he was executed on Tower +Hill, where he died, at thirty-four years old, both courageously and +penitently. His step-father suffered with him. His enemy, Sir Walter Raleigh, +stood near the scaffold all the time—but not so near it as we shall see +him stand, before we finish his history. +</p> + +<p> +In this case, as in the cases of the Duke of Norfolk and Mary Queen of Scots, +the Queen had commanded, and countermanded, and again commanded, the execution. +It is probable that the death of her young and gallant favourite in the prime +of his good qualities, was never off her mind afterwards, but she held out, the +same vain, obstinate and capricious woman, for another year. Then she danced +before her Court on a state occasion—and cut, I should think, a mighty +ridiculous figure, doing so in an immense ruff, stomacher and wig, at seventy +years old. For another year still, she held out, but, without any more dancing, +and as a moody, sorrowful, broken creature. At last, on the tenth of March, one +thousand six hundred and three, having been ill of a very bad cold, and made +worse by the death of the Countess of Nottingham who was her intimate friend, +she fell into a stupor and was supposed to be dead. She recovered her +consciousness, however, and then nothing would induce her to go to bed; for she +said that she knew that if she did, she should never get up again. There she +lay for ten days, on cushions on the floor, without any food, until the Lord +Admiral got her into bed at last, partly by persuasions and partly by main +force. When they asked her who should succeed her, she replied that her seat +had been the seat of Kings, and that she would have for her successor, +‘No rascal’s son, but a King’s.’ Upon this, the lords +present stared at one another, and took the liberty of asking whom she meant; +to which she replied, ‘Whom should I mean, but our cousin of +Scotland!’ This was on the twenty-third of March. They asked her once +again that day, after she was speechless, whether she was still in the same +mind? She struggled up in bed, and joined her hands over her head in the form +of a crown, as the only reply she could make. At three o’clock next +morning, she very quietly died, in the forty-fifth year of her reign. +</p> + +<p> +That reign had been a glorious one, and is made for ever memorable by the +distinguished men who flourished in it. Apart from the great voyagers, +statesmen, and scholars, whom it produced, the names of <span +class="smcap">Bacon</span>, <span class="smcap">Spenser</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Shakespeare</span>, will always be remembered with pride and +veneration by the civilised world, and will always impart (though with no great +reason, perhaps) some portion of their lustre to the name of Elizabeth herself. +It was a great reign for discovery, for commerce, and for English enterprise +and spirit in general. It was a great reign for the Protestant religion and for +the Reformation which made England free. The Queen was very popular, and in her +progresses, or journeys about her dominions, was everywhere received with the +liveliest joy. I think the truth is, that she was not half so good as she has +been made out, and not half so bad as she has been made out. She had her fine +qualities, but she was coarse, capricious, and treacherous, and had all the +faults of an excessively vain young woman long after she was an old one. On the +whole, she had a great deal too much of her father in her, to please me. +</p> + +<p> +Many improvements and luxuries were introduced in the course of these +five-and-forty years in the general manner of living; but cock-fighting, +bull-baiting, and bear-baiting, were still the national amusements; and a coach +was so rarely seen, and was such an ugly and cumbersome affair when it was +seen, that even the Queen herself, on many high occasions, rode on horseback on +a pillion behind the Lord Chancellor. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap32"></a>CHAPTER XXXII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER JAMES THE FIRST</h2> + +<p> +‘Our cousin of Scotland’ was ugly, awkward, and shuffling both in +mind and person. His tongue was much too large for his mouth, his legs were +much too weak for his body, and his dull goggle-eyes stared and rolled like an +idiot’s. He was cunning, covetous, wasteful, idle, drunken, greedy, +dirty, cowardly, a great swearer, and the most conceited man on earth. His +figure—what is commonly called rickety from his birth—presented a +most ridiculous appearance, dressed in thick padded clothes, as a safeguard +against being stabbed (of which he lived in continual fear), of a grass-green +colour from head to foot, with a hunting-horn dangling at his side instead of a +sword, and his hat and feather sticking over one eye, or hanging on the back of +his head, as he happened to toss it on. He used to loll on the necks of his +favourite courtiers, and slobber their faces, and kiss and pinch their cheeks; +and the greatest favourite he ever had, used to sign himself in his letters to +his royal master, His Majesty’s ‘dog and slave,’ and used to +address his majesty as ‘his Sowship.’ His majesty was the worst +rider ever seen, and thought himself the best. He was one of the most +impertinent talkers (in the broadest Scotch) ever heard, and boasted of being +unanswerable in all manner of argument. He wrote some of the most wearisome +treatises ever read—among others, a book upon witchcraft, in which he was +a devout believer—and thought himself a prodigy of authorship. He +thought, and wrote, and said, that a king had a right to make and unmake what +laws he pleased, and ought to be accountable to nobody on earth. This is the +plain, true character of the personage whom the greatest men about the court +praised and flattered to that degree, that I doubt if there be anything much +more shameful in the annals of human nature. +</p> + +<p> +He came to the English throne with great ease. The miseries of a disputed +succession had been felt so long, and so dreadfully, that he was proclaimed +within a few hours of Elizabeth’s death, and was accepted by the nation, +even without being asked to give any pledge that he would govern well, or that +he would redress crying grievances. He took a month to come from Edinburgh to +London; and, by way of exercising his new power, hanged a pickpocket on the +journey without any trial, and knighted everybody he could lay hold of. He made +two hundred knights before he got to his palace in London, and seven hundred +before he had been in it three months. He also shovelled sixty-two new peers +into the House of Lords—and there was a pretty large sprinkling of +Scotchmen among them, you may believe. +</p> + +<p> +His Sowship’s prime Minister, <span class="smcap">Cecil</span> (for I +cannot do better than call his majesty what his favourite called him), was the +enemy of Sir Walter Raleigh, and also of Sir Walter’s political friend, +<span class="smcap">Lord Cobham</span>; and his Sowship’s first trouble +was a plot originated by these two, and entered into by some others, with the +old object of seizing the King and keeping him in imprisonment until he should +change his ministers. There were Catholic priests in the plot, and there were +Puritan noblemen too; for, although the Catholics and Puritans were strongly +opposed to each other, they united at this time against his Sowship, because +they knew that he had a design against both, after pretending to be friendly to +each; this design being to have only one high and convenient form of the +Protestant religion, which everybody should be bound to belong to, whether they +liked it or not. This plot was mixed up with another, which may or may not have +had some reference to placing on the throne, at some time, the <span +class="smcap">Lady Arabella Stuart</span>; whose misfortune it was, to be the +daughter of the younger brother of his Sowship’s father, but who was +quite innocent of any part in the scheme. Sir Walter Raleigh was accused on the +confession of Lord Cobham—a miserable creature, who said one thing at one +time, and another thing at another time, and could be relied upon in nothing. +The trial of Sir Walter Raleigh lasted from eight in the morning until nearly +midnight; he defended himself with such eloquence, genius, and spirit against +all accusations, and against the insults of <span class="smcap">Coke</span>, +the Attorney-General—who, according to the custom of the time, foully +abused him—that those who went there detesting the prisoner, came away +admiring him, and declaring that anything so wonderful and so captivating was +never heard. He was found guilty, nevertheless, and sentenced to death. +Execution was deferred, and he was taken to the Tower. The two Catholic +priests, less fortunate, were executed with the usual atrocity; and Lord Cobham +and two others were pardoned on the scaffold. His Sowship thought it +wonderfully knowing in him to surprise the people by pardoning these three at +the very block; but, blundering, and bungling, as usual, he had very nearly +overreached himself. For, the messenger on horseback who brought the pardon, +came so late, that he was pushed to the outside of the crowd, and was obliged +to shout and roar out what he came for. The miserable Cobham did not gain much +by being spared that day. He lived, both as a prisoner and a beggar, utterly +despised, and miserably poor, for thirteen years, and then died in an old +outhouse belonging to one of his former servants. +</p> + +<p> +This plot got rid of, and Sir Walter Raleigh safely shut up in the Tower, his +Sowship held a great dispute with the Puritans on their presenting a petition +to him, and had it all his own way—not so very wonderful, as he would +talk continually, and would not hear anybody else—and filled the Bishops +with admiration. It was comfortably settled that there was to be only one form +of religion, and that all men were to think exactly alike. But, although this +was arranged two centuries and a half ago, and although the arrangement was +supported by much fining and imprisonment, I do not find that it is quite +successful, even yet. +</p> + +<p> +His Sowship, having that uncommonly high opinion of himself as a king, had a +very low opinion of Parliament as a power that audaciously wanted to control +him. When he called his first Parliament after he had been king a year, he +accordingly thought he would take pretty high ground with them, and told them +that he commanded them ‘as an absolute king.’ The Parliament +thought those strong words, and saw the necessity of upholding their authority. +His Sowship had three children: Prince Henry, Prince Charles, and the Princess +Elizabeth. It would have been well for one of these, and we shall too soon see +which, if he had learnt a little wisdom concerning Parliaments from his +father’s obstinacy. +</p> + +<p> +Now, the people still labouring under their old dread of the Catholic religion, +this Parliament revived and strengthened the severe laws against it. And this +so angered <span class="smcap">Robert Catesby</span>, a restless Catholic +gentleman of an old family, that he formed one of the most desperate and +terrible designs ever conceived in the mind of man; no less a scheme than the +Gunpowder Plot. +</p> + +<p> +His object was, when the King, lords, and commons, should be assembled at the +next opening of Parliament, to blow them up, one and all, with a great mine of +gunpowder. The first person to whom he confided this horrible idea was <span +class="smcap">Thomas Winter</span>, a Worcestershire gentleman who had served +in the army abroad, and had been secretly employed in Catholic projects. While +Winter was yet undecided, and when he had gone over to the Netherlands, to +learn from the Spanish Ambassador there whether there was any hope of Catholics +being relieved through the intercession of the King of Spain with his Sowship, +he found at Ostend a tall, dark, daring man, whom he had known when they were +both soldiers abroad, and whose name was <span +class="smcap">Guido</span>—or <span class="smcap">Guy</span>—<span +class="smcap">Fawkes</span>. Resolved to join the plot, he proposed it to this +man, knowing him to be the man for any desperate deed, and they two came back +to England together. Here, they admitted two other conspirators; <span +class="smcap">Thomas Percy</span>, related to the Earl of Northumberland, and +<span class="smcap">John Wright</span>, his brother-in-law. All these met +together in a solitary house in the open fields which were then near +Clement’s Inn, now a closely blocked-up part of London; and when they had +all taken a great oath of secrecy, Catesby told the rest what his plan was. +They then went up-stairs into a garret, and received the Sacrament from <span +class="smcap">Father Gerard</span>, a Jesuit, who is said not to have known +actually of the Gunpowder Plot, but who, I think, must have had his suspicions +that there was something desperate afoot. +</p> + +<p> +Percy was a Gentleman Pensioner, and as he had occasional duties to perform +about the Court, then kept at Whitehall, there would be nothing suspicious in +his living at Westminster. So, having looked well about him, and having found a +house to let, the back of which joined the Parliament House, he hired it of a +person named <span class="smcap">Ferris</span>, for the purpose of undermining +the wall. Having got possession of this house, the conspirators hired another +on the Lambeth side of the Thames, which they used as a storehouse for wood, +gunpowder, and other combustible matters. These were to be removed at night +(and afterwards were removed), bit by bit, to the house at Westminster; and, +that there might be some trusty person to keep watch over the Lambeth stores, +they admitted another conspirator, by name <span class="smcap">Robert +Kay</span>, a very poor Catholic gentleman. +</p> + +<p> +All these arrangements had been made some months, and it was a dark, wintry, +December night, when the conspirators, who had been in the meantime dispersed +to avoid observation, met in the house at Westminster, and began to dig. They +had laid in a good stock of eatables, to avoid going in and out, and they dug +and dug with great ardour. But, the wall being tremendously thick, and the work +very severe, they took into their plot <span class="smcap">Christopher +Wright</span>, a younger brother of John Wright, that they might have a new +pair of hands to help. And Christopher Wright fell to like a fresh man, and +they dug and dug by night and by day, and Fawkes stood sentinel all the time. +And if any man’s heart seemed to fail him at all, Fawkes said, +‘Gentlemen, we have abundance of powder and shot here, and there is no +fear of our being taken alive, even if discovered.’ The same Fawkes, who, +in the capacity of sentinel, was always prowling about, soon picked up the +intelligence that the King had prorogued the Parliament again, from the seventh +of February, the day first fixed upon, until the third of October. When the +conspirators knew this, they agreed to separate until after the Christmas +holidays, and to take no notice of each other in the meanwhile, and never to +write letters to one another on any account. So, the house in Westminster was +shut up again, and I suppose the neighbours thought that those strange-looking +men who lived there so gloomily, and went out so seldom, were gone away to have +a merry Christmas somewhere. +</p> + +<p> +It was the beginning of February, sixteen hundred and five, when Catesby met +his fellow-conspirators again at this Westminster house. He had now admitted +three more; <span class="smcap">John Grant</span>, a Warwickshire gentleman of +a melancholy temper, who lived in a doleful house near Stratford-upon-Avon, +with a frowning wall all round it, and a deep moat; <span class="smcap">Robert +Winter</span>, eldest brother of Thomas; and Catesby’s own servant, <span +class="smcap">Thomas Bates</span>, who, Catesby thought, had had some suspicion +of what his master was about. These three had all suffered more or less for +their religion in Elizabeth’s time. And now, they all began to dig again, +and they dug and dug by night and by day. +</p> + +<p> +They found it dismal work alone there, underground, with such a fearful secret +on their minds, and so many murders before them. They were filled with wild +fancies. Sometimes, they thought they heard a great bell tolling, deep down in +the earth under the Parliament House; sometimes, they thought they heard low +voices muttering about the Gunpowder Plot; once in the morning, they really did +hear a great rumbling noise over their heads, as they dug and sweated in their +mine. Every man stopped and looked aghast at his neighbour, wondering what had +happened, when that bold prowler, Fawkes, who had been out to look, came in and +told them that it was only a dealer in coals who had occupied a cellar under +the Parliament House, removing his stock in trade to some other place. Upon +this, the conspirators, who with all their digging and digging had not yet dug +through the tremendously thick wall, changed their plan; hired that cellar, +which was directly under the House of Lords; put six-and-thirty barrels of +gunpowder in it, and covered them over with fagots and coals. Then they all +dispersed again till September, when the following new conspirators were +admitted; <span class="smcap">Sir Edward Baynham</span>, of Gloucestershire; +<span class="smcap">Sir Everard Digby</span>, of Rutlandshire; <span +class="smcap">Ambrose Rookwood</span>, of Suffolk; <span class="smcap">Francis +Tresham</span>, of Northamptonshire. Most of these were rich, and were to +assist the plot, some with money and some with horses on which the conspirators +were to ride through the country and rouse the Catholics after the Parliament +should be blown into air. +</p> + +<p> +Parliament being again prorogued from the third of October to the fifth of +November, and the conspirators being uneasy lest their design should have been +found out, Thomas Winter said he would go up into the House of Lords on the day +of the prorogation, and see how matters looked. Nothing could be better. The +unconscious Commissioners were walking about and talking to one another, just +over the six-and-thirty barrels of gunpowder. He came back and told the rest +so, and they went on with their preparations. They hired a ship, and kept it +ready in the Thames, in which Fawkes was to sail for Flanders after firing with +a slow match the train that was to explode the powder. A number of Catholic +gentlemen not in the secret, were invited, on pretence of a hunting party, to +meet Sir Everard Digby at Dunchurch on the fatal day, that they might be ready +to act together. And now all was ready. +</p> + +<p> +But, now, the great wickedness and danger which had been all along at the +bottom of this wicked plot, began to show itself. As the fifth of November drew +near, most of the conspirators, remembering that they had friends and relations +who would be in the House of Lords that day, felt some natural relenting, and a +wish to warn them to keep away. They were not much comforted by Catesby’s +declaring that in such a cause he would blow up his own son. <span +class="smcap">Lord Mounteagle</span>, Tresham’s brother-in-law, was +certain to be in the house; and when Tresham found that he could not prevail +upon the rest to devise any means of sparing their friends, he wrote a +mysterious letter to this lord and left it at his lodging in the dusk, urging +him to keep away from the opening of Parliament, ‘since God and man had +concurred to punish the wickedness of the times.’ It contained the words +‘that the Parliament should receive a terrible blow, and yet should not +see who hurt them.’ And it added, ‘the danger is past, as soon as +you have burnt the letter.’ +</p> + +<p> +The ministers and courtiers made out that his Sowship, by a direct miracle from +Heaven, found out what this letter meant. The truth is, that they were not long +(as few men would be) in finding out for themselves; and it was decided to let +the conspirators alone, until the very day before the opening of Parliament. +That the conspirators had their fears, is certain; for, Tresham himself said +before them all, that they were every one dead men; and, although even he did +not take flight, there is reason to suppose that he had warned other persons +besides Lord Mounteagle. However, they were all firm; and Fawkes, who was a man +of iron, went down every day and night to keep watch in the cellar as usual. He +was there about two in the afternoon of the fourth, when the Lord Chamberlain +and Lord Mounteagle threw open the door and looked in. ‘Who are you, +friend?’ said they. ‘Why,’ said Fawkes, ‘I am Mr. +Percy’s servant, and am looking after his store of fuel here.’ +‘Your master has laid in a pretty good store,’ they returned, and +shut the door, and went away. Fawkes, upon this, posted off to the other +conspirators to tell them all was quiet, and went back and shut himself up in +the dark, black cellar again, where he heard the bell go twelve o’clock +and usher in the fifth of November. About two hours afterwards, he slowly +opened the door, and came out to look about him, in his old prowling way. He +was instantly seized and bound, by a party of soldiers under <span +class="smcap">Sir Thomas Knevett</span>. He had a watch upon him, some +touchwood, some tinder, some slow matches; and there was a dark lantern with a +candle in it, lighted, behind the door. He had his boots and spurs on—to +ride to the ship, I suppose—and it was well for the soldiers that they +took him so suddenly. If they had left him but a moment’s time to light a +match, he certainly would have tossed it in among the powder, and blown up +himself and them. +</p> + +<p> +They took him to the King’s bed-chamber first of all, and there the King +(causing him to be held very tight, and keeping a good way off), asked him how +he could have the heart to intend to destroy so many innocent people? +‘Because,’ said Guy Fawkes, ‘desperate diseases need +desperate remedies.’ To a little Scotch favourite, with a face like a +terrier, who asked him (with no particular wisdom) why he had collected so much +gunpowder, he replied, because he had meant to blow Scotchmen back to Scotland, +and it would take a deal of powder to do that. Next day he was carried to the +Tower, but would make no confession. Even after being horribly tortured, he +confessed nothing that the Government did not already know; though he must have +been in a fearful state—as his signature, still preserved, in contrast +with his natural hand-writing before he was put upon the dreadful rack, most +frightfully shows. Bates, a very different man, soon said the Jesuits had had +to do with the plot, and probably, under the torture, would as readily have +said anything. Tresham, taken and put in the Tower too, made confessions and +unmade them, and died of an illness that was heavy upon him. Rookwood, who had +stationed relays of his own horses all the way to Dunchurch, did not mount to +escape until the middle of the day, when the news of the plot was all over +London. On the road, he came up with the two Wrights, Catesby, and Percy; and +they all galloped together into Northamptonshire. Thence to Dunchurch, where +they found the proposed party assembled. Finding, however, that there had been +a plot, and that it had been discovered, the party disappeared in the course of +the night, and left them alone with Sir Everard Digby. Away they all rode +again, through Warwickshire and Worcestershire, to a house called Holbeach, on +the borders of Staffordshire. They tried to raise the Catholics on their way, +but were indignantly driven off by them. All this time they were hotly pursued +by the sheriff of Worcester, and a fast increasing concourse of riders. At +last, resolving to defend themselves at Holbeach, they shut themselves up in +the house, and put some wet powder before the fire to dry. But it blew up, and +Catesby was singed and blackened, and almost killed, and some of the others +were sadly hurt. Still, knowing that they must die, they resolved to die there, +and with only their swords in their hands appeared at the windows to be shot at +by the sheriff and his assistants. Catesby said to Thomas Winter, after Thomas +had been hit in the right arm which dropped powerless by his side, ‘Stand +by me, Tom, and we will die together!’—which they did, being shot +through the body by two bullets from one gun. John Wright, and Christopher +Wright, and Percy, were also shot. Rookwood and Digby were taken: the former +with a broken arm and a wound in his body too. +</p> + +<p> +It was the fifteenth of January, before the trial of Guy Fawkes, and such of +the other conspirators as were left alive, came on. They were all found guilty, +all hanged, drawn, and quartered: some, in St. Paul’s Churchyard, on the +top of Ludgate-hill; some, before the Parliament House. A Jesuit priest, named +<span class="smcap">Henry Garnet</span>, to whom the dreadful design was said +to have been communicated, was taken and tried; and two of his servants, as +well as a poor priest who was taken with him, were tortured without mercy. He +himself was not tortured, but was surrounded in the Tower by tamperers and +traitors, and so was made unfairly to convict himself out of his own mouth. He +said, upon his trial, that he had done all he could to prevent the deed, and +that he could not make public what had been told him in confession—though +I am afraid he knew of the plot in other ways. He was found guilty and +executed, after a manful defence, and the Catholic Church made a saint of him; +some rich and powerful persons, who had had nothing to do with the project, +were fined and imprisoned for it by the Star Chamber; the Catholics, in +general, who had recoiled with horror from the idea of the infernal +contrivance, were unjustly put under more severe laws than before; and this was +the end of the Gunpowder Plot. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +His Sowship would pretty willingly, I think, have blown the House of Commons +into the air himself; for, his dread and jealousy of it knew no bounds all +through his reign. When he was hard pressed for money he was obliged to order +it to meet, as he could get no money without it; and when it asked him first to +abolish some of the monopolies in necessaries of life which were a great +grievance to the people, and to redress other public wrongs, he flew into a +rage and got rid of it again. At one time he wanted it to consent to the Union +of England with Scotland, and quarrelled about that. At another time it wanted +him to put down a most infamous Church abuse, called the High Commission Court, +and he quarrelled with it about that. At another time it entreated him not to +be quite so fond of his archbishops and bishops who made speeches in his praise +too awful to be related, but to have some little consideration for the poor +Puritan clergy who were persecuted for preaching in their own way, and not +according to the archbishops and bishops; and they quarrelled about that. In +short, what with hating the House of Commons, and pretending not to hate it; +and what with now sending some of its members who opposed him, to Newgate or to +the Tower, and now telling the rest that they must not presume to make speeches +about the public affairs which could not possibly concern them; and what with +cajoling, and bullying, and fighting, and being frightened; the House of +Commons was the plague of his Sowship’s existence. It was pretty firm, +however, in maintaining its rights, and insisting that the Parliament should +make the laws, and not the King by his own single proclamations (which he tried +hard to do); and his Sowship was so often distressed for money, in consequence, +that he sold every sort of title and public office as if they were merchandise, +and even invented a new dignity called a Baronetcy, which anybody could buy for +a thousand pounds. +</p> + +<p> +These disputes with his Parliaments, and his hunting, and his drinking, and his +lying in bed—for he was a great sluggard—occupied his Sowship +pretty well. The rest of his time he chiefly passed in hugging and slobbering +his favourites. The first of these was <span class="smcap">Sir Philip +Herbert</span>, who had no knowledge whatever, except of dogs, and horses, and +hunting, but whom he soon made <span class="smcap">Earl of Montgomery</span>. +The next, and a much more famous one, was <span class="smcap">Robert +Carr</span>, or <span class="smcap">Ker</span> (for it is not certain which was +his right name), who came from the Border country, and whom he soon made <span +class="smcap">Viscount Rochester</span>, and afterwards, <span +class="smcap">Earl of Somerset</span>. The way in which his Sowship doted on +this handsome young man, is even more odious to think of, than the way in which +the really great men of England condescended to bow down before him. The +favourite’s great friend was a certain <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas +Overbury</span>, who wrote his love-letters for him, and assisted him in the +duties of his many high places, which his own ignorance prevented him from +discharging. But this same Sir Thomas having just manhood enough to dissuade +the favourite from a wicked marriage with the beautiful Countess of Essex, who +was to get a divorce from her husband for the purpose, the said Countess, in +her rage, got Sir Thomas put into the Tower, and there poisoned him. Then the +favourite and this bad woman were publicly married by the King’s pet +bishop, with as much to-do and rejoicing, as if he had been the best man, and +she the best woman, upon the face of the earth. +</p> + +<p> +But, after a longer sunshine than might have been expected—of seven years +or so, that is to say—another handsome young man started up and eclipsed +the <span class="smcap">Earl of Somerset</span>. This was <span +class="smcap">George Villiers</span>, the youngest son of a Leicestershire +gentleman: who came to Court with all the Paris fashions on him, and could +dance as well as the best mountebank that ever was seen. He soon danced himself +into the good graces of his Sowship, and danced the other favourite out of +favour. Then, it was all at once discovered that the Earl and Countess of +Somerset had not deserved all those great promotions and mighty rejoicings, and +they were separately tried for the murder of Sir Thomas Overbury, and for other +crimes. But, the King was so afraid of his late favourite’s publicly +telling some disgraceful things he knew of him—which he darkly threatened +to do—that he was even examined with two men standing, one on either side +of him, each with a cloak in his hand, ready to throw it over his head and stop +his mouth if he should break out with what he had it in his power to tell. So, +a very lame affair was purposely made of the trial, and his punishment was an +allowance of four thousand pounds a year in retirement, while the Countess was +pardoned, and allowed to pass into retirement too. They hated one another by +this time, and lived to revile and torment each other some years. +</p> + +<p> +While these events were in progress, and while his Sowship was making such an +exhibition of himself, from day to day and from year to year, as is not often +seen in any sty, three remarkable deaths took place in England. The first was +that of the Minister, Robert Cecil, Earl of Salisbury, who was past sixty, and +had never been strong, being deformed from his birth. He said at last that he +had no wish to live; and no Minister need have had, with his experience of the +meanness and wickedness of those disgraceful times. The second was that of the +Lady Arabella Stuart, who alarmed his Sowship mightily, by privately marrying +<span class="smcap">William Seymour</span>, son of <span class="smcap">Lord +Beauchamp</span>, who was a descendant of King Henry the Seventh, and who, his +Sowship thought, might consequently increase and strengthen any claim she might +one day set up to the throne. She was separated from her husband (who was put +in the Tower) and thrust into a boat to be confined at Durham. She escaped in a +man’s dress to get away in a French ship from Gravesend to France, but +unhappily missed her husband, who had escaped too, and was soon taken. She went +raving mad in the miserable Tower, and died there after four years. The last, +and the most important of these three deaths, was that of Prince Henry, the +heir to the throne, in the nineteenth year of his age. He was a promising young +prince, and greatly liked; a quiet, well-conducted youth, of whom two very good +things are known: first, that his father was jealous of him; secondly, that he +was the friend of Sir Walter Raleigh, languishing through all those years in +the Tower, and often said that no man but his father would keep such a bird in +such a cage. On the occasion of the preparations for the marriage of his sister +the Princess Elizabeth with a foreign prince (and an unhappy marriage it turned +out), he came from Richmond, where he had been very ill, to greet his new +brother-in-law, at the palace at Whitehall. There he played a great game at +tennis, in his shirt, though it was very cold weather, and was seized with an +alarming illness, and died within a fortnight of a putrid fever. For this young +prince Sir Walter Raleigh wrote, in his prison in the Tower, the beginning of a +History of the World: a wonderful instance how little his Sowship could do to +confine a great man’s mind, however long he might imprison his body. +</p> + +<p> +And this mention of Sir Walter Raleigh, who had many faults, but who never +showed so many merits as in trouble and adversity, may bring me at once to the +end of his sad story. After an imprisonment in the Tower of twelve long years, +he proposed to resume those old sea voyages of his, and to go to South America +in search of gold. His Sowship, divided between his wish to be on good terms +with the Spaniards through whose territory Sir Walter must pass (he had long +had an idea of marrying Prince Henry to a Spanish Princess), and his avaricious +eagerness to get hold of the gold, did not know what to do. But, in the end, he +set Sir Walter free, taking securities for his return; and Sir Walter fitted +out an expedition at his own coast and, on the twenty-eighth of March, one +thousand six hundred and seventeen, sailed away in command of one of its ships, +which he ominously called the Destiny. The expedition failed; the common men, +not finding the gold they had expected, mutinied; a quarrel broke out between +Sir Walter and the Spaniards, who hated him for old successes of his against +them; and he took and burnt a little town called <span class="smcap">Saint +Thomas</span>. For this he was denounced to his Sowship by the Spanish +Ambassador as a pirate; and returning almost broken-hearted, with his hopes and +fortunes shattered, his company of friends dispersed, and his brave son (who +had been one of them) killed, he was taken—through the treachery of <span +class="smcap">Sir Lewis Stukely</span>, his near relation, a scoundrel and a +Vice-Admiral—and was once again immured in his prison-home of so many +years. +</p> + +<p> +His Sowship being mightily disappointed in not getting any gold, Sir Walter +Raleigh was tried as unfairly, and with as many lies and evasions as the judges +and law officers and every other authority in Church and State habitually +practised under such a King. After a great deal of prevarication on all parts +but his own, it was declared that he must die under his former sentence, now +fifteen years old. So, on the twenty-eighth of October, one thousand six +hundred and eighteen, he was shut up in the Gate House at Westminster to pass +his late night on earth, and there he took leave of his good and faithful lady +who was worthy to have lived in better days. At eight o’clock next +morning, after a cheerful breakfast, and a pipe, and a cup of good wine, he was +taken to Old Palace Yard in Westminster, where the scaffold was set up, and +where so many people of high degree were assembled to see him die, that it was +a matter of some difficulty to get him through the crowd. He behaved most +nobly, but if anything lay heavy on his mind, it was that Earl of Essex, whose +head he had seen roll off; and he solemnly said that he had had no hand in +bringing him to the block, and that he had shed tears for him when he died. As +the morning was very cold, the Sheriff said, would he come down to a fire for a +little space, and warm himself? But Sir Walter thanked him, and said no, he +would rather it were done at once, for he was ill of fever and ague, and in +another quarter of an hour his shaking fit would come upon him if he were still +alive, and his enemies might then suppose that he trembled for fear. With that, +he kneeled and made a very beautiful and Christian prayer. Before he laid his +head upon the block he felt the edge of the axe, and said, with a smile upon +his face, that it was a sharp medicine, but would cure the worst disease. When +he was bent down ready for death, he said to the executioner, finding that he +hesitated, ‘What dost thou fear? Strike, man!’ So, the axe came +down and struck his head off, in the sixty-sixth year of his age. +</p> + +<p> +The new favourite got on fast. He was made a viscount, he was made Duke of +Buckingham, he was made a marquis, he was made Master of the Horse, he was made +Lord High Admiral—and the Chief Commander of the gallant English forces +that had dispersed the Spanish Armada, was displaced to make room for him. He +had the whole kingdom at his disposal, and his mother sold all the profits and +honours of the State, as if she had kept a shop. He blazed all over with +diamonds and other precious stones, from his hatband and his earrings to his +shoes. Yet he was an ignorant presumptuous, swaggering compound of knave and +fool, with nothing but his beauty and his dancing to recommend him. This is the +gentleman who called himself his Majesty’s dog and slave, and called his +Majesty Your Sowship. His Sowship called him <span +class="smcap">Steenie</span>; it is supposed, because that was a nickname for +Stephen, and because St. Stephen was generally represented in pictures as a +handsome saint. +</p> + +<p> +His Sowship was driven sometimes to his wits’-end by his trimming between +the general dislike of the Catholic religion at home, and his desire to wheedle +and flatter it abroad, as his only means of getting a rich princess for his +son’s wife: a part of whose fortune he might cram into his greasy +pockets. Prince Charles—or as his Sowship called him, Baby +Charles—being now <span class="smcap">Prince of Wales</span>, the old +project of a marriage with the Spanish King’s daughter had been revived +for him; and as she could not marry a Protestant without leave from the Pope, +his Sowship himself secretly and meanly wrote to his Infallibility, asking for +it. The negotiation for this Spanish marriage takes up a larger space in great +books, than you can imagine, but the upshot of it all is, that when it had been +held off by the Spanish Court for a long time, Baby Charles and Steenie set off +in disguise as Mr. Thomas Smith and Mr. John Smith, to see the Spanish +Princess; that Baby Charles pretended to be desperately in love with her, and +jumped off walls to look at her, and made a considerable fool of himself in a +good many ways; that she was called Princess of Wales and that the whole +Spanish Court believed Baby Charles to be all but dying for her sake, as he +expressly told them he was; that Baby Charles and Steenie came back to England, +and were received with as much rapture as if they had been a blessing to it; +that Baby Charles had actually fallen in love with <span +class="smcap">Henrietta Maria</span>, the French King’s sister, whom he +had seen in Paris; that he thought it a wonderfully fine and princely thing to +have deceived the Spaniards, all through; and that he openly said, with a +chuckle, as soon as he was safe and sound at home again, that the Spaniards +were great fools to have believed him. +</p> + +<p> +Like most dishonest men, the Prince and the favourite complained that the +people whom they had deluded were dishonest. They made such misrepresentations +of the treachery of the Spaniards in this business of the Spanish match, that +the English nation became eager for a war with them. Although the gravest +Spaniards laughed at the idea of his Sowship in a warlike attitude, the +Parliament granted money for the beginning of hostilities, and the treaties +with Spain were publicly declared to be at an end. The Spanish ambassador in +London—probably with the help of the fallen favourite, the Earl of +Somerset—being unable to obtain speech with his Sowship, slipped a paper +into his hand, declaring that he was a prisoner in his own house, and was +entirely governed by Buckingham and his creatures. The first effect of this +letter was that his Sowship began to cry and whine, and took Baby Charles away +from Steenie, and went down to Windsor, gabbling all sorts of nonsense. The end +of it was that his Sowship hugged his dog and slave, and said he was quite +satisfied. +</p> + +<p> +He had given the Prince and the favourite almost unlimited power to settle +anything with the Pope as to the Spanish marriage; and he now, with a view to +the French one, signed a treaty that all Roman Catholics in England should +exercise their religion freely, and should never be required to take any oath +contrary thereto. In return for this, and for other concessions much less to be +defended, Henrietta Maria was to become the Prince’s wife, and was to +bring him a fortune of eight hundred thousand crowns. +</p> + +<p> +His Sowship’s eyes were getting red with eagerly looking for the money, +when the end of a gluttonous life came upon him; and, after a fortnight’s +illness, on Sunday the twenty-seventh of March, one thousand six hundred and +twenty-five, he died. He had reigned twenty-two years, and was fifty-nine years +old. I know of nothing more abominable in history than the adulation that was +lavished on this King, and the vice and corruption that such a barefaced habit +of lying produced in his court. It is much to be doubted whether one man of +honour, and not utterly self-disgraced, kept his place near James the First. +Lord Bacon, that able and wise philosopher, as the First Judge in the Kingdom +in this reign, became a public spectacle of dishonesty and corruption; and in +his base flattery of his Sowship, and in his crawling servility to his dog and +slave, disgraced himself even more. But, a creature like his Sowship set upon a +throne is like the Plague, and everybody receives infection from him. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap33"></a>CHAPTER XXXIII<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER CHARLES THE FIRST</h2> + +<p> +Baby Charles became <span class="smcap">King Charles the First</span>, in the +twenty-fifth year of his age. Unlike his father, he was usually amiable in his +private character, and grave and dignified in his bearing; but, like his +father, he had monstrously exaggerated notions of the rights of a king, and was +evasive, and not to be trusted. If his word could have been relied upon, his +history might have had a different end. +</p> + +<p> +His first care was to send over that insolent upstart, Buckingham, to bring +Henrietta Maria from Paris to be his Queen; upon which occasion +Buckingham—with his usual audacity—made love to the young Queen of +Austria, and was very indignant indeed with <span class="smcap">Cardinal +Richelieu</span>, the French Minister, for thwarting his intentions. The +English people were very well disposed to like their new Queen, and to receive +her with great favour when she came among them as a stranger. But, she held the +Protestant religion in great dislike, and brought over a crowd of unpleasant +priests, who made her do some very ridiculous things, and forced themselves +upon the public notice in many disagreeable ways. Hence, the people soon came +to dislike her, and she soon came to dislike them; and she did so much all +through this reign in setting the King (who was dotingly fond of her) against +his subjects, that it would have been better for him if she had never been +born. +</p> + +<p> +Now, you are to understand that King Charles the First—of his own +determination to be a high and mighty King not to be called to account by +anybody, and urged on by his Queen besides—deliberately set himself to +put his Parliament down and to put himself up. You are also to understand, that +even in pursuit of this wrong idea (enough in itself to have ruined any king) +he never took a straight course, but always took a crooked one. +</p> + +<p> +He was bent upon war with Spain, though neither the House of Commons nor the +people were quite clear as to the justice of that war, now that they began to +think a little more about the story of the Spanish match. But the King rushed +into it hotly, raised money by illegal means to meet its expenses, and +encountered a miserable failure at Cadiz, in the very first year of his reign. +An expedition to Cadiz had been made in the hope of plunder, but as it was not +successful, it was necessary to get a grant of money from the Parliament; and +when they met, in no very complying humour, the King told them, ‘to make +haste to let him have it, or it would be the worse for themselves.’ Not +put in a more complying humour by this, they impeached the King’s +favourite, the Duke of Buckingham, as the cause (which he undoubtedly was) of +many great public grievances and wrongs. The King, to save him, dissolved the +Parliament without getting the money he wanted; and when the Lords implored him +to consider and grant a little delay, he replied, ‘No, not one +minute.’ He then began to raise money for himself by the following means +among others. +</p> + +<p> +He levied certain duties called tonnage and poundage which had not been granted +by the Parliament, and could lawfully be levied by no other power; he called +upon the seaport towns to furnish, and to pay all the cost for three months of, +a fleet of armed ships; and he required the people to unite in lending him +large sums of money, the repayment of which was very doubtful. If the poor +people refused, they were pressed as soldiers or sailors; if the gentry +refused, they were sent to prison. Five gentlemen, named <span +class="smcap">Sir Thomas Darnel</span>, <span class="smcap">John Corbet</span>, +<span class="smcap">Walter Earl</span>, <span class="smcap">John +Heveningham</span>, and <span class="smcap">Everard Hampden</span>, for +refusing were taken up by a warrant of the King’s privy council, and were +sent to prison without any cause but the King’s pleasure being stated for +their imprisonment. Then the question came to be solemnly tried, whether this +was not a violation of Magna Charta, and an encroachment by the King on the +highest rights of the English people. His lawyers contended No, because to +encroach upon the rights of the English people would be to do wrong, and the +King could do no wrong. The accommodating judges decided in favour of this +wicked nonsense; and here was a fatal division between the King and the people. +</p> + +<p> +For all this, it became necessary to call another Parliament. The people, +sensible of the danger in which their liberties were, chose for it those who +were best known for their determined opposition to the King; but still the +King, quite blinded by his determination to carry everything before him, +addressed them when they met, in a contemptuous manner, and just told them in +so many words that he had only called them together because he wanted money. +The Parliament, strong enough and resolute enough to know that they would lower +his tone, cared little for what he said, and laid before him one of the great +documents of history, which is called the <span class="smcap">Petition of +Right</span>, requiring that the free men of England should no longer be called +upon to lend the King money, and should no longer be pressed or imprisoned for +refusing to do so; further, that the free men of England should no longer be +seized by the King’s special mandate or warrant, it being contrary to +their rights and liberties and the laws of their country. At first the King +returned an answer to this petition, in which he tried to shirk it altogether; +but, the House of Commons then showing their determination to go on with the +impeachment of Buckingham, the King in alarm returned an answer, giving his +consent to all that was required of him. He not only afterwards departed from +his word and honour on these points, over and over again, but, at this very +time, he did the mean and dissembling act of publishing his first answer and +not his second—merely that the people might suppose that the Parliament +had not got the better of him. +</p> + +<p> +That pestilent Buckingham, to gratify his own wounded vanity, had by this time +involved the country in war with France, as well as with Spain. For such +miserable causes and such miserable creatures are wars sometimes made! But he +was destined to do little more mischief in this world. One morning, as he was +going out of his house to his carriage, he turned to speak to a certain Colonel +<span class="smcap">Fryer</span> who was with him; and he was violently stabbed +with a knife, which the murderer left sticking in his heart. This happened in +his hall. He had had angry words up-stairs, just before, with some French +gentlemen, who were immediately suspected by his servants, and had a close +escape from being set upon and killed. In the midst of the noise, the real +murderer, who had gone to the kitchen and might easily have got away, drew his +sword and cried out, ‘I am the man!’ His name was <span +class="smcap">John Felton</span>, a Protestant and a retired officer in the +army. He said he had had no personal ill-will to the Duke, but had killed him +as a curse to the country. He had aimed his blow well, for Buckingham had only +had time to cry out, ‘Villain!’ and then he drew out the knife, +fell against a table, and died. +</p> + +<p> +The council made a mighty business of examining John Felton about this murder, +though it was a plain case enough, one would think. He had come seventy miles +to do it, he told them, and he did it for the reason he had declared; if they +put him upon the rack, as that noble <span class="smcap">Marquis of +Dorset</span> whom he saw before him, had the goodness to threaten, he gave +that marquis warning, that he would accuse <i>him</i> as his accomplice! The +King was unpleasantly anxious to have him racked, nevertheless; but as the +judges now found out that torture was contrary to the law of England—it +is a pity they did not make the discovery a little sooner—John Felton was +simply executed for the murder he had done. A murder it undoubtedly was, and +not in the least to be defended: though he had freed England from one of the +most profligate, contemptible, and base court favourites to whom it has ever +yielded. +</p> + +<p> +A very different man now arose. This was <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas +Wentworth</span>, a Yorkshire gentleman, who had sat in Parliament for a long +time, and who had favoured arbitrary and haughty principles, but who had gone +over to the people’s side on receiving offence from Buckingham. The King, +much wanting such a man—for, besides being naturally favourable to the +King’s cause, he had great abilities—made him first a Baron, and +then a Viscount, and gave him high employment, and won him most completely. +</p> + +<p> +A Parliament, however, was still in existence, and was <i>not</i> to be won. On +the twentieth of January, one thousand six hundred and twenty-nine, <span +class="smcap">Sir John Eliot</span>, a great man who had been active in the +Petition of Right, brought forward other strong resolutions against the +King’s chief instruments, and called upon the Speaker to put them to the +vote. To this the Speaker answered, ‘he was commanded otherwise by the +King,’ and got up to leave the chair—which, according to the rules +of the House of Commons would have obliged it to adjourn without doing anything +more—when two members, named Mr. <span class="smcap">Hollis</span> and +Mr. <span class="smcap">Valentine</span>, held him down. A scene of great +confusion arose among the members; and while many swords were drawn and +flashing about, the King, who was kept informed of all that was going on, told +the captain of his guard to go down to the House and force the doors. The +resolutions were by that time, however, voted, and the House adjourned. Sir +John Eliot and those two members who had held the Speaker down, were quickly +summoned before the council. As they claimed it to be their privilege not to +answer out of Parliament for anything they had said in it, they were committed +to the Tower. The King then went down and dissolved the Parliament, in a speech +wherein he made mention of these gentlemen as ‘Vipers’—which +did not do him much good that ever I have heard of. +</p> + +<p> +As they refused to gain their liberty by saying they were sorry for what they +had done, the King, always remarkably unforgiving, never overlooked their +offence. When they demanded to be brought up before the court of King’s +Bench, he even resorted to the meanness of having them moved about from prison +to prison, so that the writs issued for that purpose should not legally find +them. At last they came before the court and were sentenced to heavy fines, and +to be imprisoned during the King’s pleasure. When Sir John Eliot’s +health had quite given way, and he so longed for change of air and scene as to +petition for his release, the King sent back the answer (worthy of his Sowship +himself) that the petition was not humble enough. When he sent another petition +by his young son, in which he pathetically offered to go back to prison when +his health was restored, if he might be released for its recovery, the King +still disregarded it. When he died in the Tower, and his children petitioned to +be allowed to take his body down to Cornwall, there to lay it among the ashes +of his forefathers, the King returned for answer, ‘Let Sir John +Eliot’s body be buried in the church of that parish where he died.’ +All this was like a very little King indeed, I think. +</p> + +<p> +And now, for twelve long years, steadily pursuing his design of setting himself +up and putting the people down, the King called no Parliament; but ruled +without one. If twelve thousand volumes were written in his praise (as a good +many have been) it would still remain a fact, impossible to be denied, that for +twelve years King Charles the First reigned in England unlawfully and +despotically, seized upon his subjects’ goods and money at his pleasure, +and punished according to his unbridled will all who ventured to oppose him. It +is a fashion with some people to think that this King’s career was cut +short; but I must say myself that I think he ran a pretty long one. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">William Laud</span>, Archbishop of Canterbury, was the +King’s right-hand man in the religious part of the putting down of the +people’s liberties. Laud, who was a sincere man, of large learning but +small sense—for the two things sometimes go together in very different +quantities—though a Protestant, held opinions so near those of the +Catholics, that the Pope wanted to make a Cardinal of him, if he would have +accepted that favour. He looked upon vows, robes, lighted candles, images, and +so forth, as amazingly important in religious ceremonies; and he brought in an +immensity of bowing and candle-snuffing. He also regarded archbishops and +bishops as a sort of miraculous persons, and was inveterate in the last degree +against any who thought otherwise. Accordingly, he offered up thanks to Heaven, +and was in a state of much pious pleasure, when a Scotch clergyman, named <span +class="smcap">Leighton</span>, was pilloried, whipped, branded in the cheek, +and had one of his ears cut off and one of his nostrils slit, for calling +bishops trumpery and the inventions of men. He originated on a Sunday morning +the prosecution of <span class="smcap">William Prynne</span>, a barrister who +was of similar opinions, and who was fined a thousand pounds; who was +pilloried; who had his ears cut off on two occasions—one ear at a +time—and who was imprisoned for life. He highly approved of the +punishment of <span class="smcap">Doctor Bastwick</span>, a physician; who was +also fined a thousand pounds; and who afterwards had <i>his</i> ears cut off, +and was imprisoned for life. These were gentle methods of persuasion, some will +tell you: I think, they were rather calculated to be alarming to the people. +</p> + +<p> +In the money part of the putting down of the people’s liberties, the King +was equally gentle, as some will tell you: as I think, equally alarming. He +levied those duties of tonnage and poundage, and increased them as he thought +fit. He granted monopolies to companies of merchants on their paying him for +them, notwithstanding the great complaints that had, for years and years, been +made on the subject of monopolies. He fined the people for disobeying +proclamations issued by his Sowship in direct violation of law. He revived the +detested Forest laws, and took private property to himself as his forest right. +Above all, he determined to have what was called Ship Money; that is to say, +money for the support of the fleet—not only from the seaports, but from +all the counties of England: having found out that, in some ancient time or +other, all the counties paid it. The grievance of this ship money being +somewhat too strong, <span class="smcap">John Chambers</span>, a citizen of +London, refused to pay his part of it. For this the Lord Mayor ordered John +Chambers to prison, and for that John Chambers brought a suit against the Lord +Mayor. <span class="smcap">Lord Say</span>, also, behaved like a real nobleman, +and declared he would not pay. But, the sturdiest and best opponent of the ship +money was <span class="smcap">John Hampden</span>, a gentleman of +Buckinghamshire, who had sat among the ‘vipers’ in the House of +Commons when there was such a thing, and who had been the bosom friend of Sir +John Eliot. This case was tried before the twelve judges in the Court of +Exchequer, and again the King’s lawyers said it was impossible that ship +money could be wrong, because the King could do no wrong, however hard he +tried—and he really did try very hard during these twelve years. Seven of +the judges said that was quite true, and Mr. Hampden was bound to pay: five of +the judges said that was quite false, and Mr. Hampden was not bound to pay. So, +the King triumphed (as he thought), by making Hampden the most popular man in +England; where matters were getting to that height now, that many honest +Englishmen could not endure their country, and sailed away across the seas to +found a colony in Massachusetts Bay in America. It is said that Hampden himself +and his relation <span class="smcap">Oliver Cromwell</span> were going with a +company of such voyagers, and were actually on board ship, when they were +stopped by a proclamation, prohibiting sea captains to carry out such +passengers without the royal license. But O! it would have been well for the +King if he had let them go! This was the state of England. If Laud had been a +madman just broke loose, he could not have done more mischief than he did in +Scotland. In his endeavours (in which he was seconded by the King, then in +person in that part of his dominions) to force his own ideas of bishops, and +his own religious forms and ceremonies upon the Scotch, he roused that nation +to a perfect frenzy. They formed a solemn league, which they called The +Covenant, for the preservation of their own religious forms; they rose in arms +throughout the whole country; they summoned all their men to prayers and +sermons twice a day by beat of drum; they sang psalms, in which they compared +their enemies to all the evil spirits that ever were heard of; and they +solemnly vowed to smite them with the sword. At first the King tried force, +then treaty, then a Scottish Parliament which did not answer at all. Then he +tried the <span class="smcap">Earl of Strafford</span>, formerly Sir Thomas +Wentworth; who, as <span class="smcap">Lord Wentworth</span>, had been +governing Ireland. He, too, had carried it with a very high hand there, though +to the benefit and prosperity of that country. +</p> + +<p> +Strafford and Laud were for conquering the Scottish people by force of arms. +Other lords who were taken into council, recommended that a Parliament should +at last be called; to which the King unwillingly consented. So, on the +thirteenth of April, one thousand six hundred and forty, that then strange +sight, a Parliament, was seen at Westminster. It is called the Short +Parliament, for it lasted a very little while. While the members were all +looking at one another, doubtful who would dare to speak, <span +class="smcap">Mr. Pym</span> arose and set forth all that the King had done +unlawfully during the past twelve years, and what was the position to which +England was reduced. This great example set, other members took courage and +spoke the truth freely, though with great patience and moderation. The King, a +little frightened, sent to say that if they would grant him a certain sum on +certain terms, no more ship money should be raised. They debated the matter for +two days; and then, as they would not give him all he asked without promise or +inquiry, he dissolved them. +</p> + +<p> +But they knew very well that he must have a Parliament now; and he began to +make that discovery too, though rather late in the day. Wherefore, on the +twenty-fourth of September, being then at York with an army collected against +the Scottish people, but his own men sullen and discontented like the rest of +the nation, the King told the great council of the Lords, whom he had called to +meet him there, that he would summon another Parliament to assemble on the +third of November. The soldiers of the Covenant had now forced their way into +England and had taken possession of the northern counties, where the coals are +got. As it would never do to be without coals, and as the King’s troops +could make no head against the Covenanters so full of gloomy zeal, a truce was +made, and a treaty with Scotland was taken into consideration. Meanwhile the +northern counties paid the Covenanters to leave the coals alone, and keep +quiet. +</p> + +<p> +We have now disposed of the Short Parliament. We have next to see what +memorable things were done by the Long one. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +The Long Parliament assembled on the third of November, one thousand six +hundred and forty-one. That day week the Earl of Strafford arrived from York, +very sensible that the spirited and determined men who formed that Parliament +were no friends towards him, who had not only deserted the cause of the people, +but who had on all occasions opposed himself to their liberties. The King told +him, for his comfort, that the Parliament ‘should not hurt one hair of +his head.’ But, on the very next day Mr. Pym, in the House of Commons, +and with great solemnity, impeached the Earl of Strafford as a traitor. He was +immediately taken into custody and fell from his proud height. +</p> + +<p> +It was the twenty-second of March before he was brought to trial in Westminster +Hall; where, although he was very ill and suffered great pain, he defended +himself with such ability and majesty, that it was doubtful whether he would +not get the best of it. But on the thirteenth day of the trial, Pym produced in +the House of Commons a copy of some notes of a council, found by young <span +class="smcap">Sir Harry Vane</span> in a red velvet cabinet belonging to his +father (Secretary Vane, who sat at the council-table with the Earl), in which +Strafford had distinctly told the King that he was free from all rules and +obligations of government, and might do with his people whatever he liked; and +in which he had added—‘You have an army in Ireland that you may +employ to reduce this kingdom to obedience.’ It was not clear whether by +the words ‘this kingdom,’ he had really meant England or Scotland; +but the Parliament contended that he meant England, and this was treason. At +the same sitting of the House of Commons it was resolved to bring in a bill of +attainder declaring the treason to have been committed: in preference to +proceeding with the trial by impeachment, which would have required the treason +to be proved. +</p> + +<p> +So, a bill was brought in at once, was carried through the House of Commons by +a large majority, and was sent up to the House of Lords. While it was still +uncertain whether the House of Lords would pass it and the King consent to it, +Pym disclosed to the House of Commons that the King and Queen had both been +plotting with the officers of the army to bring up the soldiers and control the +Parliament, and also to introduce two hundred soldiers into the Tower of London +to effect the Earl’s escape. The plotting with the army was revealed by +one <span class="smcap">George Goring</span>, the son of a lord of that name: a +bad fellow who was one of the original plotters, and turned traitor. The King +had actually given his warrant for the admission of the two hundred men into +the Tower, and they would have got in too, but for the refusal of the +governor—a sturdy Scotchman of the name of <span +class="smcap">Balfour</span>—to admit them. These matters being made +public, great numbers of people began to riot outside the Houses of Parliament, +and to cry out for the execution of the Earl of Strafford, as one of the +King’s chief instruments against them. The bill passed the House of Lords +while the people were in this state of agitation, and was laid before the King +for his assent, together with another bill declaring that the Parliament then +assembled should not be dissolved or adjourned without their own consent. The +King—not unwilling to save a faithful servant, though he had no great +attachment for him—was in some doubt what to do; but he gave his consent +to both bills, although he in his heart believed that the bill against the Earl +of Strafford was unlawful and unjust. The Earl had written to him, telling him +that he was willing to die for his sake. But he had not expected that his royal +master would take him at his word quite so readily; for, when he heard his +doom, he laid his hand upon his heart, and said, ‘Put not your trust in +Princes!’ +</p> + +<p> +The King, who never could be straightforward and plain, through one single day +or through one single sheet of paper, wrote a letter to the Lords, and sent it +by the young Prince of Wales, entreating them to prevail with the Commons that +‘that unfortunate man should fulfil the natural course of his life in a +close imprisonment.’ In a postscript to the very same letter, he added, +‘If he must die, it were charity to reprieve him till Saturday.’ If +there had been any doubt of his fate, this weakness and meanness would have +settled it. The very next day, which was the twelfth of May, he was brought out +to be beheaded on Tower Hill. +</p> + +<p> +Archbishop Laud, who had been so fond of having people’s ears cropped off +and their noses slit, was now confined in the Tower too; and when the Earl went +by his window to his death, he was there, at his request, to give him his +blessing. They had been great friends in the King’s cause, and the Earl +had written to him in the days of their power that he thought it would be an +admirable thing to have Mr. Hampden publicly whipped for refusing to pay the +ship money. However, those high and mighty doings were over now, and the Earl +went his way to death with dignity and heroism. The governor wished him to get +into a coach at the Tower gate, for fear the people should tear him to pieces; +but he said it was all one to him whether he died by the axe or by the +people’s hands. So, he walked, with a firm tread and a stately look, and +sometimes pulled off his hat to them as he passed along. They were profoundly +quiet. He made a speech on the scaffold from some notes he had prepared (the +paper was found lying there after his head was struck off), and one blow of the +axe killed him, in the forty-ninth year of his age. +</p> + +<p> +This bold and daring act, the Parliament accompanied by other famous measures, +all originating (as even this did) in the King’s having so grossly and so +long abused his power. The name of <span class="smcap">Delinquents</span> was +applied to all sheriffs and other officers who had been concerned in raising +the ship money, or any other money, from the people, in an unlawful manner; the +Hampden judgment was reversed; the judges who had decided against Hampden were +called upon to give large securities that they would take such consequences as +Parliament might impose upon them; and one was arrested as he sat in High +Court, and carried off to prison. Laud was impeached; the unfortunate victims +whose ears had been cropped and whose noses had been slit, were brought out of +prison in triumph; and a bill was passed declaring that a Parliament should be +called every third year, and that if the King and the King’s officers did +not call it, the people should assemble of themselves and summon it, as of +their own right and power. Great illuminations and rejoicings took place over +all these things, and the country was wildly excited. That the Parliament took +advantage of this excitement and stirred them up by every means, there is no +doubt; but you are always to remember those twelve long years, during which the +King had tried so hard whether he really could do any wrong or not. +</p> + +<p> +All this time there was a great religious outcry against the right of the +Bishops to sit in Parliament; to which the Scottish people particularly +objected. The English were divided on this subject, and, partly on this account +and partly because they had had foolish expectations that the Parliament would +be able to take off nearly all the taxes, numbers of them sometimes wavered and +inclined towards the King. +</p> + +<p> +I believe myself, that if, at this or almost any other period of his life, the +King could have been trusted by any man not out of his senses, he might have +saved himself and kept his throne. But, on the English army being disbanded, he +plotted with the officers again, as he had done before, and established the +fact beyond all doubt by putting his signature of approval to a petition +against the Parliamentary leaders, which was drawn up by certain officers. When +the Scottish army was disbanded, he went to Edinburgh in four days—which +was going very fast at that time—to plot again, and so darkly too, that +it is difficult to decide what his whole object was. Some suppose that he +wanted to gain over the Scottish Parliament, as he did in fact gain over, by +presents and favours, many Scottish lords and men of power. Some think that he +went to get proofs against the Parliamentary leaders in England of their having +treasonably invited the Scottish people to come and help them. With whatever +object he went to Scotland, he did little good by going. At the instigation of +the <span class="smcap">Earl of Montrose</span>, a desperate man who was then +in prison for plotting, he tried to kidnap three Scottish lords who escaped. A +committee of the Parliament at home, who had followed to watch him, writing an +account of this <span class="smcap">Incident</span>, as it was called, to the +Parliament, the Parliament made a fresh stir about it; were, or feigned to be, +much alarmed for themselves; and wrote to the <span class="smcap">Earl of +Essex</span>, the commander-in-chief, for a guard to protect them. +</p> + +<p> +It is not absolutely proved that the King plotted in Ireland besides, but it is +very probable that he did, and that the Queen did, and that he had some wild +hope of gaining the Irish people over to his side by favouring a rise among +them. Whether or no, they did rise in a most brutal and savage rebellion; in +which, encouraged by their priests, they committed such atrocities upon numbers +of the English, of both sexes and of all ages, as nobody could believe, but for +their being related on oath by eye-witnesses. Whether one hundred thousand or +two hundred thousand Protestants were murdered in this outbreak, is uncertain; +but, that it was as ruthless and barbarous an outbreak as ever was known among +any savage people, is certain. +</p> + +<p> +The King came home from Scotland, determined to make a great struggle for his +lost power. He believed that, through his presents and favours, Scotland would +take no part against him; and the Lord Mayor of London received him with such a +magnificent dinner that he thought he must have become popular again in +England. It would take a good many Lord Mayors, however, to make a people, and +the King soon found himself mistaken. +</p> + +<p> +Not so soon, though, but that there was a great opposition in the Parliament to +a celebrated paper put forth by Pym and Hampden and the rest, called +‘<span class="smcap">The Remonstrance</span>,’ which set forth all +the illegal acts that the King had ever done, but politely laid the blame of +them on his bad advisers. Even when it was passed and presented to him, the +King still thought himself strong enough to discharge Balfour from his command +in the Tower, and to put in his place a man of bad character; to whom the +Commons instantly objected, and whom he was obliged to abandon. At this time, +the old outcry about the Bishops became louder than ever, and the old +Archbishop of York was so near being murdered as he went down to the House of +Lords—being laid hold of by the mob and violently knocked about, in +return for very foolishly scolding a shrill boy who was yelping out ‘No +Bishops!’—that he sent for all the Bishops who were in town, and +proposed to them to sign a declaration that, as they could no longer without +danger to their lives attend their duty in Parliament, they protested against +the lawfulness of everything done in their absence. This they asked the King to +send to the House of Lords, which he did. Then the House of Commons impeached +the whole party of Bishops and sent them off to the Tower: +</p> + +<p> +Taking no warning from this; but encouraged by there being a moderate party in +the Parliament who objected to these strong measures, the King, on the third of +January, one thousand six hundred and forty-two, took the rashest step that +ever was taken by mortal man. +</p> + +<p> +Of his own accord and without advice, he sent the Attorney-General to the House +of Lords, to accuse of treason certain members of Parliament who as popular +leaders were the most obnoxious to him; <span class="smcap">Lord +Kimbolton</span>, <span class="smcap">Sir Arthur Haselrig</span>, <span +class="smcap">Denzil Hollis</span>, <span class="smcap">John Pym</span> (they +used to call him King Pym, he possessed such power and looked so big), <span +class="smcap">John Hampden</span>, and <span class="smcap">William +Strode</span>. The houses of those members he caused to be entered, and their +papers to be sealed up. At the same time, he sent a messenger to the House of +Commons demanding to have the five gentlemen who were members of that House +immediately produced. To this the House replied that they should appear as soon +as there was any legal charge against them, and immediately adjourned. +</p> + +<p> +Next day, the House of Commons send into the City to let the Lord Mayor know +that their privileges are invaded by the King, and that there is no safety for +anybody or anything. Then, when the five members are gone out of the way, down +comes the King himself, with all his guard and from two to three hundred +gentlemen and soldiers, of whom the greater part were armed. These he leaves in +the hall; and then, with his nephew at his side, goes into the House, takes off +his hat, and walks up to the Speaker’s chair. The Speaker leaves it, the +King stands in front of it, looks about him steadily for a little while, and +says he has come for those five members. No one speaks, and then he calls John +Pym by name. No one speaks, and then he calls Denzil Hollis by name. No one +speaks, and then he asks the Speaker of the House where those five members are? +The Speaker, answering on his knee, nobly replies that he is the servant of +that House, and that he has neither eyes to see, nor tongue to speak, anything +but what the House commands him. Upon this, the King, beaten from that time +evermore, replies that he will seek them himself, for they have committed +treason; and goes out, with his hat in his hand, amid some audible murmurs from +the members. +</p> + +<p> +No words can describe the hurry that arose out of doors when all this was +known. The five members had gone for safety to a house in Coleman-street, in +the City, where they were guarded all night; and indeed the whole city watched +in arms like an army. At ten o’clock in the morning, the King, already +frightened at what he had done, came to the Guildhall, with only half a dozen +lords, and made a speech to the people, hoping they would not shelter those +whom he accused of treason. Next day, he issued a proclamation for the +apprehension of the five members; but the Parliament minded it so little that +they made great arrangements for having them brought down to Westminster in +great state, five days afterwards. The King was so alarmed now at his own +imprudence, if not for his own safety, that he left his palace at Whitehall, +and went away with his Queen and children to Hampton Court. +</p> + +<p> +It was the eleventh of May, when the five members were carried in state and +triumph to Westminster. They were taken by water. The river could not be seen +for the boats on it; and the five members were hemmed in by barges full of men +and great guns, ready to protect them, at any cost. Along the Strand a large +body of the train-bands of London, under their commander, <span +class="smcap">Skippon</span>, marched to be ready to assist the little fleet. +Beyond them, came a crowd who choked the streets, roaring incessantly about the +Bishops and the Papists, and crying out contemptuously as they passed +Whitehall, ‘What has become of the King?’ With this great noise +outside the House of Commons, and with great silence within, Mr. Pym rose and +informed the House of the great kindness with which they had been received in +the City. Upon that, the House called the sheriffs in and thanked them, and +requested the train-bands, under their commander Skippon, to guard the House of +Commons every day. Then, came four thousand men on horseback out of +Buckinghamshire, offering their services as a guard too, and bearing a petition +to the King, complaining of the injury that had been done to Mr. Hampden, who +was their county man and much beloved and honoured. +</p> + +<p> +When the King set off for Hampton Court, the gentlemen and soldiers who had +been with him followed him out of town as far as Kingston-upon-Thames; next +day, Lord Digby came to them from the King at Hampton Court, in his coach and +six, to inform them that the King accepted their protection. This, the +Parliament said, was making war against the kingdom, and Lord Digby fled +abroad. The Parliament then immediately applied themselves to getting hold of +the military power of the country, well knowing that the King was already +trying hard to use it against them, and that he had secretly sent the Earl of +Newcastle to Hull, to secure a valuable magazine of arms and gunpowder that was +there. In those times, every county had its own magazines of arms and powder, +for its own train-bands or militia; so, the Parliament brought in a bill +claiming the right (which up to this time had belonged to the King) of +appointing the Lord Lieutenants of counties, who commanded these train-bands; +also, of having all the forts, castles, and garrisons in the kingdom, put into +the hands of such governors as they, the Parliament, could confide in. It also +passed a law depriving the Bishops of their votes. The King gave his assent to +that bill, but would not abandon the right of appointing the Lord Lieutenants, +though he said he was willing to appoint such as might be suggested to him by +the Parliament. When the Earl of Pembroke asked him whether he would not give +way on that question for a time, he said, ‘By God! not for one +hour!’ and upon this he and the Parliament went to war. +</p> + +<p> +His young daughter was betrothed to the Prince of Orange. On pretence of taking +her to the country of her future husband, the Queen was already got safely away +to Holland, there to pawn the Crown jewels for money to raise an army on the +King’s side. The Lord Admiral being sick, the House of Commons now named +the Earl of Warwick to hold his place for a year. The King named another +gentleman; the House of Commons took its own way, and the Earl of Warwick +became Lord Admiral without the King’s consent. The Parliament sent +orders down to Hull to have that magazine removed to London; the King went down +to Hull to take it himself. The citizens would not admit him into the town, and +the governor would not admit him into the castle. The Parliament resolved that +whatever the two Houses passed, and the King would not consent to, should be +called an <span class="smcap">Ordinance</span>, and should be as much a law as +if he did consent to it. The King protested against this, and gave notice that +these ordinances were not to be obeyed. The King, attended by the majority of +the House of Peers, and by many members of the House of Commons, established +himself at York. The Chancellor went to him with the Great Seal, and the +Parliament made a new Great Seal. The Queen sent over a ship full of arms and +ammunition, and the King issued letters to borrow money at high interest. The +Parliament raised twenty regiments of foot and seventy-five troops of horse; +and the people willingly aided them with their money, plate, jewellery, and +trinkets—the married women even with their wedding-rings. Every member of +Parliament who could raise a troop or a regiment in his own part of the +country, dressed it according to his taste and in his own colours, and +commanded it. Foremost among them all, <span class="smcap">Oliver +Cromwell</span> raised a troop of horse—thoroughly in earnest and +thoroughly well armed—who were, perhaps, the best soldiers that ever were +seen. +</p> + +<p> +In some of their proceedings, this famous Parliament passed the bounds of +previous law and custom, yielded to and favoured riotous assemblages of the +people, and acted tyrannically in imprisoning some who differed from the +popular leaders. But again, you are always to remember that the twelve years +during which the King had had his own wilful way, had gone before; and that +nothing could make the times what they might, could, would, or should have +been, if those twelve years had never rolled away. +</p> + +<h3>THIRD PART</h3> + +<p> +I shall not try to relate the particulars of the great civil war between King +Charles the First and the Long Parliament, which lasted nearly four years, and +a full account of which would fill many large books. It was a sad thing that +Englishmen should once more be fighting against Englishmen on English ground; +but, it is some consolation to know that on both sides there was great +humanity, forbearance, and honour. The soldiers of the Parliament were far more +remarkable for these good qualities than the soldiers of the King (many of whom +fought for mere pay without much caring for the cause); but those of the +nobility and gentry who were on the King’s side were so brave, and so +faithful to him, that their conduct cannot but command our highest admiration. +Among them were great numbers of Catholics, who took the royal side because the +Queen was so strongly of their persuasion. +</p> + +<p> +The King might have distinguished some of these gallant spirits, if he had been +as generous a spirit himself, by giving them the command of his army. Instead +of that, however, true to his old high notions of royalty, he entrusted it to +his two nephews, <span class="smcap">Prince Rupert</span> and <span +class="smcap">Prince Maurice</span>, who were of royal blood and came over from +abroad to help him. It might have been better for him if they had stayed away; +since Prince Rupert was an impetuous, hot-headed fellow, whose only idea was to +dash into battle at all times and seasons, and lay about him. +</p> + +<p> +The general-in-chief of the Parliamentary army was the Earl of Essex, a +gentleman of honour and an excellent soldier. A little while before the war +broke out, there had been some rioting at Westminster between certain officious +law students and noisy soldiers, and the shopkeepers and their apprentices, and +the general people in the streets. At that time the King’s friends called +the crowd, Roundheads, because the apprentices wore short hair; the crowd, in +return, called their opponents Cavaliers, meaning that they were a blustering +set, who pretended to be very military. These two words now began to be used to +distinguish the two sides in the civil war. The Royalists also called the +Parliamentary men Rebels and Rogues, while the Parliamentary men called +<i>them</i> Malignants, and spoke of themselves as the Godly, the Honest, and +so forth. +</p> + +<p> +The war broke out at Portsmouth, where that double traitor Goring had again +gone over to the King and was besieged by the Parliamentary troops. Upon this, +the King proclaimed the Earl of Essex and the officers serving under him, +traitors, and called upon his loyal subjects to meet him in arms at Nottingham +on the twenty-fifth of August. But his loyal subjects came about him in scanty +numbers, and it was a windy, gloomy day, and the Royal Standard got blown down, +and the whole affair was very melancholy. The chief engagements after this, +took place in the vale of the Red Horse near Banbury, at Brentford, at Devizes, +at Chalgrave Field (where Mr. Hampden was so sorely wounded while fighting at +the head of his men, that he died within a week), at Newbury (in which battle +<span class="smcap">Lord Falkland</span>, one of the best noblemen on the +King’s side, was killed), at Leicester, at Naseby, at Winchester, at +Marston Moor near York, at Newcastle, and in many other parts of England and +Scotland. These battles were attended with various successes. At one time, the +King was victorious; at another time, the Parliament. But almost all the great +and busy towns were against the King; and when it was considered necessary to +fortify London, all ranks of people, from labouring men and women, up to lords +and ladies, worked hard together with heartiness and good will. The most +distinguished leaders on the Parliamentary side were <span +class="smcap">Hampden</span>, <span class="smcap">Sir Thomas Fairfax</span>, +and, above all, <span class="smcap">Oliver Cromwell</span>, and his son-in-law +<span class="smcap">Ireton</span>. +</p> + +<p> +During the whole of this war, the people, to whom it was very expensive and +irksome, and to whom it was made the more distressing by almost every family +being divided—some of its members attaching themselves to one side and +some to the other—were over and over again most anxious for peace. So +were some of the best men in each cause. Accordingly, treaties of peace were +discussed between commissioners from the Parliament and the King; at York, at +Oxford (where the King held a little Parliament of his own), and at Uxbridge. +But they came to nothing. In all these negotiations, and in all his +difficulties, the King showed himself at his best. He was courageous, cool, +self-possessed, and clever; but, the old taint of his character was always in +him, and he was never for one single moment to be trusted. Lord Clarendon, the +historian, one of his highest admirers, supposes that he had unhappily promised +the Queen never to make peace without her consent, and that this must often be +taken as his excuse. He never kept his word from night to morning. He signed a +cessation of hostilities with the blood-stained Irish rebels for a sum of +money, and invited the Irish regiments over, to help him against the +Parliament. In the battle of Naseby, his cabinet was seized and was found to +contain a correspondence with the Queen, in which he expressly told her that he +had deceived the Parliament—a mongrel Parliament, he called it now, as an +improvement on his old term of vipers—in pretending to recognise it and +to treat with it; and from which it further appeared that he had long been in +secret treaty with the Duke of Lorraine for a foreign army of ten thousand men. +Disappointed in this, he sent a most devoted friend of his, the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Glamorgan</span>, to Ireland, to conclude a secret treaty +with the Catholic powers, to send him an Irish army of ten thousand men; in +return for which he was to bestow great favours on the Catholic religion. And, +when this treaty was discovered in the carriage of a fighting Irish Archbishop +who was killed in one of the many skirmishes of those days, he basely denied +and deserted his attached friend, the Earl, on his being charged with high +treason; and—even worse than this—had left blanks in the secret +instructions he gave him with his own kingly hand, expressly that he might thus +save himself. +</p> + +<p> +At last, on the twenty-seventh day of April, one thousand six hundred and +forty-six, the King found himself in the city of Oxford, so surrounded by the +Parliamentary army who were closing in upon him on all sides that he felt that +if he would escape he must delay no longer. So, that night, having altered the +cut of his hair and beard, he was dressed up as a servant and put upon a horse +with a cloak strapped behind him, and rode out of the town behind one of his +own faithful followers, with a clergyman of that country who knew the road +well, for a guide. He rode towards London as far as Harrow, and then altered +his plans and resolved, it would seem, to go to the Scottish camp. The Scottish +men had been invited over to help the Parliamentary army, and had a large force +then in England. The King was so desperately intriguing in everything he did, +that it is doubtful what he exactly meant by this step. He took it, anyhow, and +delivered himself up to the <span class="smcap">Earl of Leven</span>, the +Scottish general-in-chief, who treated him as an honourable prisoner. +Negotiations between the Parliament on the one hand and the Scottish +authorities on the other, as to what should be done with him, lasted until the +following February. Then, when the King had refused to the Parliament the +concession of that old militia point for twenty years, and had refused to +Scotland the recognition of its Solemn League and Covenant, Scotland got a +handsome sum for its army and its help, and the King into the bargain. He was +taken, by certain Parliamentary commissioners appointed to receive him, to one +of his own houses, called Holmby House, near Althorpe, in Northamptonshire. +</p> + +<p> +While the Civil War was still in progress, John Pym died, and was buried with +great honour in Westminster Abbey—not with greater honour than he +deserved, for the liberties of Englishmen owe a mighty debt to Pym and Hampden. +The war was but newly over when the Earl of Essex died, of an illness brought +on by his having overheated himself in a stag hunt in Windsor Forest. He, too, +was buried in Westminster Abbey, with great state. I wish it were not necessary +to add that Archbishop Laud died upon the scaffold when the war was not yet +done. His trial lasted in all nearly a year, and, it being doubtful even then +whether the charges brought against him amounted to treason, the odious old +contrivance of the worst kings was resorted to, and a bill of attainder was +brought in against him. He was a violently prejudiced and mischievous person; +had had strong ear-cropping and nose-splitting propensities, as you know; and +had done a world of harm. But he died peaceably, and like a brave old man. +</p> + +<h3>FOURTH PART</h3> + +<p> +When the Parliament had got the King into their hands, they became very anxious +to get rid of their army, in which Oliver Cromwell had begun to acquire great +power; not only because of his courage and high abilities, but because he +professed to be very sincere in the Scottish sort of Puritan religion that was +then exceedingly popular among the soldiers. They were as much opposed to the +Bishops as to the Pope himself; and the very privates, drummers, and +trumpeters, had such an inconvenient habit of starting up and preaching +long-winded discourses, that I would not have belonged to that army on any +account. +</p> + +<p> +So, the Parliament, being far from sure but that the army might begin to preach +and fight against them now it had nothing else to do, proposed to disband the +greater part of it, to send another part to serve in Ireland against the +rebels, and to keep only a small force in England. But, the army would not +consent to be broken up, except upon its own conditions; and, when the +Parliament showed an intention of compelling it, it acted for itself in an +unexpected manner. A certain cornet, of the name of <span +class="smcap">Joice</span>, arrived at Holmby House one night, attended by four +hundred horsemen, went into the King’s room with his hat in one hand and +a pistol in the other, and told the King that he had come to take him away. The +King was willing enough to go, and only stipulated that he should be publicly +required to do so next morning. Next morning, accordingly, he appeared on the +top of the steps of the house, and asked Comet Joice before his men and the +guard set there by the Parliament, what authority he had for taking him away? +To this Cornet Joice replied, ‘The authority of the army.’ +‘Have you a written commission?’ said the King. Joice, pointing to +his four hundred men on horseback, replied, ‘That is my +commission.’ ‘Well,’ said the King, smiling, as if he were +pleased, ‘I never before read such a commission; but it is written in +fair and legible characters. This is a company of as handsome proper gentlemen +as I have seen a long while.’ He was asked where he would like to live, +and he said at Newmarket. So, to Newmarket he and Cornet Joice and the four +hundred horsemen rode; the King remarking, in the same smiling way, that he +could ride as far at a spell as Cornet Joice, or any man there. +</p> + +<p> +The King quite believed, I think, that the army were his friends. He said as +much to Fairfax when that general, Oliver Cromwell, and Ireton, went to +persuade him to return to the custody of the Parliament. He preferred to remain +as he was, and resolved to remain as he was. And when the army moved nearer and +nearer London to frighten the Parliament into yielding to their demands, they +took the King with them. It was a deplorable thing that England should be at +the mercy of a great body of soldiers with arms in their hands; but the King +certainly favoured them at this important time of his life, as compared with +the more lawful power that tried to control him. It must be added, however, +that they treated him, as yet, more respectfully and kindly than the Parliament +had done. They allowed him to be attended by his own servants, to be splendidly +entertained at various houses, and to see his children—at Cavesham House, +near Reading—for two days. Whereas, the Parliament had been rather hard +with him, and had only allowed him to ride out and play at bowls. +</p> + +<p> +It is much to be believed that if the King could have been trusted, even at +this time, he might have been saved. Even Oliver Cromwell expressly said that +he did believe that no man could enjoy his possessions in peace, unless the +King had his rights. He was not unfriendly towards the King; he had been +present when he received his children, and had been much affected by the +pitiable nature of the scene; he saw the King often; he frequently walked and +talked with him in the long galleries and pleasant gardens of the Palace at +Hampton Court, whither he was now removed; and in all this risked something of +his influence with the army. But, the King was in secret hopes of help from the +Scottish people; and the moment he was encouraged to join them he began to be +cool to his new friends, the army, and to tell the officers that they could not +possibly do without him. At the very time, too, when he was promising to make +Cromwell and Ireton noblemen, if they would help him up to his old height, he +was writing to the Queen that he meant to hang them. They both afterwards +declared that they had been privately informed that such a letter would be +found, on a certain evening, sewed up in a saddle which would be taken to the +Blue Boar in Holborn to be sent to Dover; and that they went there, disguised +as common soldiers, and sat drinking in the inn-yard until a man came with the +saddle, which they ripped up with their knives, and therein found the letter. I +see little reason to doubt the story. It is certain that Oliver Cromwell told +one of the King’s most faithful followers that the King could not be +trusted, and that he would not be answerable if anything amiss were to happen +to him. Still, even after that, he kept a promise he had made to the King, by +letting him know that there was a plot with a certain portion of the army to +seize him. I believe that, in fact, he sincerely wanted the King to escape +abroad, and so to be got rid of without more trouble or danger. That Oliver +himself had work enough with the army is pretty plain; for some of the troops +were so mutinous against him, and against those who acted with him at this +time, that he found it necessary to have one man shot at the head of his +regiment to overawe the rest. +</p> + +<p> +The King, when he received Oliver’s warning, made his escape from Hampton +Court; after some indecision and uncertainty, he went to Carisbrooke Castle in +the Isle of Wight. At first, he was pretty free there; but, even there, he +carried on a pretended treaty with the Parliament, while he was really treating +with commissioners from Scotland to send an army into England to take his part. +When he broke off this treaty with the Parliament (having settled with +Scotland) and was treated as a prisoner, his treatment was not changed too +soon, for he had plotted to escape that very night to a ship sent by the Queen, +which was lying off the island. +</p> + +<p> +He was doomed to be disappointed in his hopes from Scotland. The agreement he +had made with the Scottish Commissioners was not favourable enough to the +religion of that country to please the Scottish clergy; and they preached +against it. The consequence was, that the army raised in Scotland and sent +over, was too small to do much; and that, although it was helped by a rising of +the Royalists in England and by good soldiers from Ireland, it could make no +head against the Parliamentary army under such men as Cromwell and Fairfax. The +King’s eldest son, the Prince of Wales, came over from Holland with +nineteen ships (a part of the English fleet having gone over to him) to help +his father; but nothing came of his voyage, and he was fain to return. The most +remarkable event of this second civil war was the cruel execution by the +Parliamentary General, of <span class="smcap">Sir Charles Lucas</span> and +<span class="smcap">Sir George Lisle</span>, two grand Royalist generals, who +had bravely defended Colchester under every disadvantage of famine and distress +for nearly three months. When Sir Charles Lucas was shot, Sir George Lisle +kissed his body, and said to the soldiers who were to shoot him, ‘Come +nearer, and make sure of me.’ ‘I warrant you, Sir George,’ +said one of the soldiers, ‘we shall hit you.’ ‘<span +class="smcap">Ay</span>?’ he returned with a smile, ‘but I have +been nearer to you, my friends, many a time, and you have missed me.’ +</p> + +<p> +The Parliament, after being fearfully bullied by the army—who demanded to +have seven members whom they disliked given up to them—had voted that +they would have nothing more to do with the King. On the conclusion, however, +of this second civil war (which did not last more than six months), they +appointed commissioners to treat with him. The King, then so far released again +as to be allowed to live in a private house at Newport in the Isle of Wight, +managed his own part of the negotiation with a sense that was admired by all +who saw him, and gave up, in the end, all that was asked of him—even +yielding (which he had steadily refused, so far) to the temporary abolition of +the bishops, and the transfer of their church land to the Crown. Still, with +his old fatal vice upon him, when his best friends joined the commissioners in +beseeching him to yield all those points as the only means of saving himself +from the army, he was plotting to escape from the island; he was holding +correspondence with his friends and the Catholics in Ireland, though declaring +that he was not; and he was writing, with his own hand, that in what he yielded +he meant nothing but to get time to escape. +</p> + +<p> +Matters were at this pass when the army, resolved to defy the Parliament, +marched up to London. The Parliament, not afraid of them now, and boldly led by +Hollis, voted that the King’s concessions were sufficient ground for +settling the peace of the kingdom. Upon that, <span class="smcap">Colonel +Rich</span> and <span class="smcap">Colonel Pride</span> went down to the House +of Commons with a regiment of horse soldiers and a regiment of foot; and +Colonel Pride, standing in the lobby with a list of the members who were +obnoxious to the army in his hand, had them pointed out to him as they came +through, and took them all into custody. This proceeding was afterwards called +by the people, for a joke, <span class="smcap">Pride’s Purge</span>. +Cromwell was in the North, at the head of his men, at the time, but when he +came home, approved of what had been done. +</p> + +<p> +What with imprisoning some members and causing others to stay away, the army +had now reduced the House of Commons to some fifty or so. These soon voted that +it was treason in a king to make war against his parliament and his people, and +sent an ordinance up to the House of Lords for the King’s being tried as +a traitor. The House of Lords, then sixteen in number, to a man rejected it. +Thereupon, the Commons made an ordinance of their own, that they were the +supreme government of the country, and would bring the King to trial. +</p> + +<p> +The King had been taken for security to a place called Hurst Castle: a lonely +house on a rock in the sea, connected with the coast of Hampshire by a rough +road two miles long at low water. Thence, he was ordered to be removed to +Windsor; thence, after being but rudely used there, and having none but +soldiers to wait upon him at table, he was brought up to St. James’s +Palace in London, and told that his trial was appointed for next day. +</p> + +<p> +On Saturday, the twentieth of January, one thousand six hundred and forty-nine, +this memorable trial began. The House of Commons had settled that one hundred +and thirty-five persons should form the Court, and these were taken from the +House itself, from among the officers of the army, and from among the lawyers +and citizens. <span class="smcap">John Bradshaw</span>, serjeant-at-law, was +appointed president. The place was Westminster Hall. At the upper end, in a red +velvet chair, sat the president, with his hat (lined with plates of iron for +his protection) on his head. The rest of the Court sat on side benches, also +wearing their hats. The King’s seat was covered with velvet, like that of +the president, and was opposite to it. He was brought from St. James’s to +Whitehall, and from Whitehall he came by water to his trial. +</p> + +<p> +When he came in, he looked round very steadily on the Court, and on the great +number of spectators, and then sat down: presently he got up and looked round +again. On the indictment ‘against Charles Stuart, for high +treason,’ being read, he smiled several times, and he denied the +authority of the Court, saying that there could be no parliament without a +House of Lords, and that he saw no House of Lords there. Also, that the King +ought to be there, and that he saw no King in the King’s right place. +Bradshaw replied, that the Court was satisfied with its authority, and that its +authority was God’s authority and the kingdom’s. He then adjourned +the Court to the following Monday. On that day, the trial was resumed, and went +on all the week. When the Saturday came, as the King passed forward to his +place in the Hall, some soldiers and others cried for ‘justice!’ +and execution on him. That day, too, Bradshaw, like an angry Sultan, wore a red +robe, instead of the black robe he had worn before. The King was sentenced to +death that day. As he went out, one solitary soldier said, ‘God bless +you, Sir!’ For this, his officer struck him. The King said he thought the +punishment exceeded the offence. The silver head of his walking-stick had +fallen off while he leaned upon it, at one time of the trial. The accident +seemed to disturb him, as if he thought it ominous of the falling of his own +head; and he admitted as much, now it was all over. +</p> + +<p> +Being taken back to Whitehall, he sent to the House of Commons, saying that as +the time of his execution might be nigh, he wished he might be allowed to see +his darling children. It was granted. On the Monday he was taken back to St. +James’s; and his two children then in England, the <span +class="smcap">Princess Elizabeth</span> thirteen years old, and the <span +class="smcap">Duke Of Gloucester</span> nine years old, were brought to take +leave of him, from Sion House, near Brentford. It was a sad and touching scene, +when he kissed and fondled those poor children, and made a little present of +two diamond seals to the Princess, and gave them tender messages to their +mother (who little deserved them, for she had a lover of her own whom she +married soon afterwards), and told them that he died ‘for the laws and +liberties of the land.’ I am bound to say that I don’t think he +did, but I dare say he believed so. +</p> + +<p> +There were ambassadors from Holland that day, to intercede for the unhappy +King, whom you and I both wish the Parliament had spared; but they got no +answer. The Scottish Commissioners interceded too; so did the Prince of Wales, +by a letter in which he offered as the next heir to the throne, to accept any +conditions from the Parliament; so did the Queen, by letter likewise. +</p> + +<p> +Notwithstanding all, the warrant for the execution was this day signed. There +is a story that as Oliver Cromwell went to the table with the pen in his hand +to put his signature to it, he drew his pen across the face of one of the +commissioners, who was standing near, and marked it with ink. That commissioner +had not signed his own name yet, and the story adds that when he came to do it +he marked Cromwell’s face with ink in the same way. +</p> + +<p> +The King slept well, untroubled by the knowledge that it was his last night on +earth, and rose on the thirtieth of January, two hours before day, and dressed +himself carefully. He put on two shirts lest he should tremble with the cold, +and had his hair very carefully combed. The warrant had been directed to three +officers of the army, <span class="smcap">Colonel Hacker</span>, <span +class="smcap">Colonel Hunks</span>, and <span class="smcap">Colonel +Phayer</span>. At ten o’clock, the first of these came to the door and +said it was time to go to Whitehall. The King, who had always been a quick +walker, walked at his usual speed through the Park, and called out to the +guard, with his accustomed voice of command, ‘March on apace!’ When +he came to Whitehall, he was taken to his own bedroom, where a breakfast was +set forth. As he had taken the Sacrament, he would eat nothing more; but, at +about the time when the church bells struck twelve at noon (for he had to wait, +through the scaffold not being ready), he took the advice of the good <span +class="smcap">Bishop Juxon</span> who was with him, and ate a little bread and +drank a glass of claret. Soon after he had taken this refreshment, Colonel +Hacker came to the chamber with the warrant in his hand, and called for Charles +Stuart. +</p> + +<p> +And then, through the long gallery of Whitehall Palace, which he had often seen +light and gay and merry and crowded, in very different times, the fallen King +passed along, until he came to the centre window of the Banqueting House, +through which he emerged upon the scaffold, which was hung with black. He +looked at the two executioners, who were dressed in black and masked; he looked +at the troops of soldiers on horseback and on foot, and all looked up at him in +silence; he looked at the vast array of spectators, filling up the view beyond, +and turning all their faces upon him; he looked at his old Palace of St. +James’s; and he looked at the block. He seemed a little troubled to find +that it was so low, and asked, ‘if there were no place higher?’ +Then, to those upon the scaffold, he said, ‘that it was the Parliament +who had begun the war, and not he; but he hoped they might be guiltless too, as +ill instruments had gone between them. In one respect,’ he said, +‘he suffered justly; and that was because he had permitted an unjust +sentence to be executed on another.’ In this he referred to the Earl of +Strafford. +</p> + +<p> +He was not at all afraid to die; but he was anxious to die easily. When some +one touched the axe while he was speaking, he broke off and called out, +‘Take heed of the axe! take heed of the axe!’ He also said to +Colonel Hacker, ‘Take care that they do not put me to pain.’ He +told the executioner, ‘I shall say but very short prayers, and then +thrust out my hands’—as the sign to strike. +</p> + +<p> +He put his hair up, under a white satin cap which the bishop had carried, and +said, ‘I have a good cause and a gracious God on my side.’ The +bishop told him that he had but one stage more to travel in this weary world, +and that, though it was a turbulent and troublesome stage, it was a short one, +and would carry him a great way—all the way from earth to Heaven. The +King’s last word, as he gave his cloak and the George—the +decoration from his breast—to the bishop, was, ‘Remember!’ He +then kneeled down, laid his head on the block, spread out his hands, and was +instantly killed. One universal groan broke from the crowd; and the soldiers, +who had sat on their horses and stood in their ranks immovable as statues, were +of a sudden all in motion, clearing the streets. +</p> + +<p> +Thus, in the forty-ninth year of his age, falling at the same time of his +career as Strafford had fallen in his, perished Charles the First. With all my +sorrow for him, I cannot agree with him that he died ‘the martyr of the +people;’ for the people had been martyrs to him, and to his ideas of a +King’s rights, long before. Indeed, I am afraid that he was but a bad +judge of martyrs; for he had called that infamous Duke of Buckingham ‘the +Martyr of his Sovereign.’ +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap34"></a>CHAPTER XXXIV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER OLIVER CROMWELL</h2> + +<p> +Before sunset on the memorable day on which King Charles the First was +executed, the House of Commons passed an act declaring it treason in any one to +proclaim the Prince of Wales—or anybody else—King of England. Soon +afterwards, it declared that the House of Lords was useless and dangerous, and +ought to be abolished; and directed that the late King’s statue should be +taken down from the Royal Exchange in the City and other public places. Having +laid hold of some famous Royalists who had escaped from prison, and having +beheaded the <span class="smcap">Duke Of Hamilton</span>, <span +class="smcap">Lord Holland</span>, and <span class="smcap">Lord Capel</span>, +in Palace Yard (all of whom died very courageously), they then appointed a +Council of State to govern the country. It consisted of forty-one members, of +whom five were peers. Bradshaw was made president. The House of Commons also +re-admitted members who had opposed the King’s death, and made up its +numbers to about a hundred and fifty. +</p> + +<p> +But, it still had an army of more than forty thousand men to deal with, and a +very hard task it was to manage them. Before the King’s execution, the +army had appointed some of its officers to remonstrate between them and the +Parliament; and now the common soldiers began to take that office upon +themselves. The regiments under orders for Ireland mutinied; one troop of horse +in the city of London seized their own flag, and refused to obey orders. For +this, the ringleader was shot: which did not mend the matter, for, both his +comrades and the people made a public funeral for him, and accompanied the body +to the grave with sound of trumpets and with a gloomy procession of persons +carrying bundles of rosemary steeped in blood. Oliver was the only man to deal +with such difficulties as these, and he soon cut them short by bursting at +midnight into the town of Burford, near Salisbury, where the mutineers were +sheltered, taking four hundred of them prisoners, and shooting a number of them +by sentence of court-martial. The soldiers soon found, as all men did, that +Oliver was not a man to be trifled with. And there was an end of the mutiny. +</p> + +<p> +The Scottish Parliament did not know Oliver yet; so, on hearing of the +King’s execution, it proclaimed the Prince of Wales King Charles the +Second, on condition of his respecting the Solemn League and Covenant. Charles +was abroad at that time, and so was Montrose, from whose help he had hopes +enough to keep him holding on and off with commissioners from Scotland, just as +his father might have done. These hopes were soon at an end; for, Montrose, +having raised a few hundred exiles in Germany, and landed with them in +Scotland, found that the people there, instead of joining him, deserted the +country at his approach. He was soon taken prisoner and carried to Edinburgh. +There he was received with every possible insult, and carried to prison in a +cart, his officers going two and two before him. He was sentenced by the +Parliament to be hanged on a gallows thirty feet high, to have his head set on +a spike in Edinburgh, and his limbs distributed in other places, according to +the old barbarous manner. He said he had always acted under the Royal orders, +and only wished he had limbs enough to be distributed through Christendom, that +it might be the more widely known how loyal he had been. He went to the +scaffold in a bright and brilliant dress, and made a bold end at thirty-eight +years of age. The breath was scarcely out of his body when Charles abandoned +his memory, and denied that he had ever given him orders to rise in his behalf. +O the family failing was strong in that Charles then! +</p> + +<p> +Oliver had been appointed by the Parliament to command the army in Ireland, +where he took a terrible vengeance for the sanguinary rebellion, and made +tremendous havoc, particularly in the siege of Drogheda, where no quarter was +given, and where he found at least a thousand of the inhabitants shut up +together in the great church: every one of whom was killed by his soldiers, +usually known as <span class="smcap">Oliver’s Ironsides</span>. There +were numbers of friars and priests among them, and Oliver gruffly wrote home in +his despatch that these were ‘knocked on the head’ like the rest. +</p> + +<p> +But, Charles having got over to Scotland where the men of the Solemn League and +Covenant led him a prodigiously dull life and made him very weary with long +sermons and grim Sundays, the Parliament called the redoubtable Oliver home to +knock the Scottish men on the head for setting up that Prince. Oliver left his +son-in-law, Ireton, as general in Ireland in his stead (he died there +afterwards), and he imitated the example of his father-in-law with such good +will that he brought the country to subjection, and laid it at the feet of the +Parliament. In the end, they passed an act for the settlement of Ireland, +generally pardoning all the common people, but exempting from this grace such +of the wealthier sort as had been concerned in the rebellion, or in any killing +of Protestants, or who refused to lay down their arms. Great numbers of Irish +were got out of the country to serve under Catholic powers abroad, and a +quantity of land was declared to have been forfeited by past offences, and was +given to people who had lent money to the Parliament early in the war. These +were sweeping measures; but, if Oliver Cromwell had had his own way fully, and +had stayed in Ireland, he would have done more yet. +</p> + +<p> +However, as I have said, the Parliament wanted Oliver for Scotland; so, home +Oliver came, and was made Commander of all the Forces of the Commonwealth of +England, and in three days away he went with sixteen thousand soldiers to fight +the Scottish men. Now, the Scottish men, being then—as you will generally +find them now—mighty cautious, reflected that the troops they had were +not used to war like the Ironsides, and would be beaten in an open fight. +Therefore they said, ‘If we live quiet in our trenches in Edinburgh here, +and if all the farmers come into the town and desert the country, the Ironsides +will be driven out by iron hunger and be forced to go away.’ This was, no +doubt, the wisest plan; but as the Scottish clergy <i>would</i> interfere with +what they knew nothing about, and would perpetually preach long sermons +exhorting the soldiers to come out and fight, the soldiers got it in their +heads that they absolutely must come out and fight. Accordingly, in an evil +hour for themselves, they came out of their safe position. Oliver fell upon +them instantly, and killed three thousand, and took ten thousand prisoners. +</p> + +<p> +To gratify the Scottish Parliament, and preserve their favour, Charles had +signed a declaration they laid before him, reproaching the memory of his father +and mother, and representing himself as a most religious Prince, to whom the +Solemn League and Covenant was as dear as life. He meant no sort of truth in +this, and soon afterwards galloped away on horseback to join some tiresome +Highland friends, who were always flourishing dirks and broadswords. He was +overtaken and induced to return; but this attempt, which was called ‘The +Start,’ did him just so much service, that they did not preach quite such +long sermons at him afterwards as they had done before. +</p> + +<p> +On the first of January, one thousand six hundred and fifty-one, the Scottish +people crowned him at Scone. He immediately took the chief command of an army +of twenty thousand men, and marched to Stirling. His hopes were heightened, I +dare say, by the redoubtable Oliver being ill of an ague; but Oliver scrambled +out of bed in no time, and went to work with such energy that he got behind the +Royalist army and cut it off from all communication with Scotland. There was +nothing for it then, but to go on to England; so it went on as far as +Worcester, where the mayor and some of the gentry proclaimed King Charles the +Second straightway. His proclamation, however, was of little use to him, for +very few Royalists appeared; and, on the very same day, two people were +publicly beheaded on Tower Hill for espousing his cause. Up came Oliver to +Worcester too, at double quick speed, and he and his Ironsides so laid about +them in the great battle which was fought there, that they completely beat the +Scottish men, and destroyed the Royalist army; though the Scottish men fought +so gallantly that it took five hours to do. +</p> + +<p> +The escape of Charles after this battle of Worcester did him good service long +afterwards, for it induced many of the generous English people to take a +romantic interest in him, and to think much better of him than he ever +deserved. He fled in the night, with not more than sixty followers, to the +house of a Catholic lady in Staffordshire. There, for his greater safety, the +whole sixty left him. He cropped his hair, stained his face and hands brown as +if they were sunburnt, put on the clothes of a labouring countryman, and went +out in the morning with his axe in his hand, accompanied by four wood-cutters +who were brothers, and another man who was their brother-in-law. These good +fellows made a bed for him under a tree, as the weather was very bad; and the +wife of one of them brought him food to eat; and the old mother of the four +brothers came and fell down on her knees before him in the wood, and thanked +God that her sons were engaged in saving his life. At night, he came out of the +forest and went on to another house which was near the river Severn, with the +intention of passing into Wales; but the place swarmed with soldiers, and the +bridges were guarded, and all the boats were made fast. So, after lying in a +hayloft covered over with hay, for some time, he came out of his place, +attended by <span class="smcap">Colonel Careless</span>, a Catholic gentleman +who had met him there, and with whom he lay hid, all next day, up in the shady +branches of a fine old oak. It was lucky for the King that it was +September-time, and that the leaves had not begun to fall, since he and the +Colonel, perched up in this tree, could catch glimpses of the soldiers riding +about below, and could hear the crash in the wood as they went about beating +the boughs. +</p> + +<p> +After this, he walked and walked until his feet were all blistered; and, having +been concealed all one day in a house which was searched by the troopers while +he was there, went with <span class="smcap">Lord Wilmot</span>, another of his +good friends, to a place called Bentley, where one <span class="smcap">Miss +Lane</span>, a Protestant lady, had obtained a pass to be allowed to ride +through the guards to see a relation of hers near Bristol. Disguised as a +servant, he rode in the saddle before this young lady to the house of <span +class="smcap">Sir John Winter</span>, while Lord Wilmot rode there boldly, like +a plain country gentleman, with dogs at his heels. It happened that Sir John +Winter’s butler had been servant in Richmond Palace, and knew Charles the +moment he set eyes upon him; but, the butler was faithful and kept the secret. +As no ship could be found to carry him abroad, it was planned that he should +go—still travelling with Miss Lane as her servant—to another house, +at Trent near Sherborne in Dorsetshire; and then Miss Lane and her cousin, +<span class="smcap">Mr. Lascelles</span>, who had gone on horseback beside her +all the way, went home. I hope Miss Lane was going to marry that cousin, for I +am sure she must have been a brave, kind girl. If I had been that cousin, I +should certainly have loved Miss Lane. +</p> + +<p> +When Charles, lonely for the loss of Miss Lane, was safe at Trent, a ship was +hired at Lyme, the master of which engaged to take two gentlemen to France. In +the evening of the same day, the King—now riding as servant before +another young lady—set off for a public-house at a place called +Charmouth, where the captain of the vessel was to take him on board. But, the +captain’s wife, being afraid of her husband getting into trouble, locked +him up and would not let him sail. Then they went away to Bridport; and, coming +to the inn there, found the stable-yard full of soldiers who were on the +look-out for Charles, and who talked about him while they drank. He had such +presence of mind, that he led the horses of his party through the yard as any +other servant might have done, and said, ‘Come out of the way, you +soldiers; let us have room to pass here!’ As he went along, he met a +half-tipsy ostler, who rubbed his eyes and said to him, ‘Why, I was +formerly servant to Mr. Potter at Exeter, and surely I have sometimes seen you +there, young man?’ He certainly had, for Charles had lodged there. His +ready answer was, ‘Ah, I did live with him once; but I have no time to +talk now. We’ll have a pot of beer together when I come back.’ +</p> + +<p> +From this dangerous place he returned to Trent, and lay there concealed several +days. Then he escaped to Heale, near Salisbury; where, in the house of a widow +lady, he was hidden five days, until the master of a collier lying off Shoreham +in Sussex, undertook to convey a ‘gentleman’ to France. On the +night of the fifteenth of October, accompanied by two colonels and a merchant, +the King rode to Brighton, then a little fishing village, to give the captain +of the ship a supper before going on board; but, so many people knew him, that +this captain knew him too, and not only he, but the landlord and landlady also. +Before he went away, the landlord came behind his chair, kissed his hand, and +said he hoped to live to be a lord and to see his wife a lady; at which Charles +laughed. They had had a good supper by this time, and plenty of smoking and +drinking, at which the King was a first-rate hand; so, the captain assured him +that he would stand by him, and he did. It was agreed that the captain should +pretend to sail to Deal, and that Charles should address the sailors and say he +was a gentleman in debt who was running away from his creditors, and that he +hoped they would join him in persuading the captain to put him ashore in +France. As the King acted his part very well indeed, and gave the sailors +twenty shillings to drink, they begged the captain to do what such a worthy +gentleman asked. He pretended to yield to their entreaties, and the King got +safe to Normandy. +</p> + +<p> +Ireland being now subdued, and Scotland kept quiet by plenty of forts and +soldiers put there by Oliver, the Parliament would have gone on quietly enough, +as far as fighting with any foreign enemy went, but for getting into trouble +with the Dutch, who in the spring of the year one thousand six hundred and +fifty-one sent a fleet into the Downs under their <span class="smcap">Admiral +Van Tromp</span>, to call upon the bold English <span class="smcap">Admiral +Blake</span> (who was there with half as many ships as the Dutch) to strike his +flag. Blake fired a raging broadside instead, and beat off Van Tromp; who, in +the autumn, came back again with seventy ships, and challenged the bold +Blake—who still was only half as strong—to fight him. Blake fought +him all day; but, finding that the Dutch were too many for him, got quietly off +at night. What does Van Tromp upon this, but goes cruising and boasting about +the Channel, between the North Foreland and the Isle of Wight, with a great +Dutch broom tied to his masthead, as a sign that he could and would sweep the +English of the sea! Within three months, Blake lowered his tone though, and his +broom too; for, he and two other bold commanders, <span +class="smcap">Dean</span> and <span class="smcap">Monk</span>, fought him three +whole days, took twenty-three of his ships, shivered his broom to pieces, and +settled his business. +</p> + +<p> +Things were no sooner quiet again, than the army began to complain to the +Parliament that they were not governing the nation properly, and to hint that +they thought they could do it better themselves. Oliver, who had now made up +his mind to be the head of the state, or nothing at all, supported them in +this, and called a meeting of officers and his own Parliamentary friends, at +his lodgings in Whitehall, to consider the best way of getting rid of the +Parliament. It had now lasted just as many years as the King’s unbridled +power had lasted, before it came into existence. The end of the deliberation +was, that Oliver went down to the House in his usual plain black dress, with +his usual grey worsted stockings, but with an unusual party of soldiers behind +him. These last he left in the lobby, and then went in and sat down. Presently +he got up, made the Parliament a speech, told them that the Lord had done with +them, stamped his foot and said, ‘You are no Parliament. Bring them in! +Bring them in!’ At this signal the door flew open, and the soldiers +appeared. ‘This is not honest,’ said Sir Harry Vane, one of the +members. ‘Sir Harry Vane!’ cried Cromwell; ‘O, Sir Harry +Vane! The Lord deliver me from Sir Harry Vane!’ Then he pointed out +members one by one, and said this man was a drunkard, and that man a dissipated +fellow, and that man a liar, and so on. Then he caused the Speaker to be walked +out of his chair, told the guard to clear the House, called the mace upon the +table—which is a sign that the House is sitting—‘a +fool’s bauble,’ and said, ‘here, carry it away!’ Being +obeyed in all these orders, he quietly locked the door, put the key in his +pocket, walked back to Whitehall again, and told his friends, who were still +assembled there, what he had done. +</p> + +<p> +They formed a new Council of State after this extraordinary proceeding, and got +a new Parliament together in their own way: which Oliver himself opened in a +sort of sermon, and which he said was the beginning of a perfect heaven upon +earth. In this Parliament there sat a well-known leather-seller, who had taken +the singular name of Praise God Barebones, and from whom it was called, for a +joke, Barebones’s Parliament, though its general name was the Little +Parliament. As it soon appeared that it was not going to put Oliver in the +first place, it turned out to be not at all like the beginning of heaven upon +earth, and Oliver said it really was not to be borne with. So he cleared off +that Parliament in much the same way as he had disposed of the other; and then +the council of officers decided that he must be made the supreme authority of +the kingdom, under the title of the Lord Protector of the Commonwealth. +</p> + +<p> +So, on the sixteenth of December, one thousand six hundred and fifty-three, a +great procession was formed at Oliver’s door, and he came out in a black +velvet suit and a big pair of boots, and got into his coach and went down to +Westminster, attended by the judges, and the lord mayor, and the aldermen, and +all the other great and wonderful personages of the country. There, in the +Court of Chancery, he publicly accepted the office of Lord Protector. Then he +was sworn, and the City sword was handed to him, and the seal was handed to +him, and all the other things were handed to him which are usually handed to +Kings and Queens on state occasions. When Oliver had handed them all back, he +was quite made and completely finished off as Lord Protector; and several of +the Ironsides preached about it at great length, all the evening. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +Oliver Cromwell—whom the people long called <span class="smcap">Old +Noll</span>—in accepting the office of Protector, had bound himself by a +certain paper which was handed to him, called ‘the Instrument,’ to +summon a Parliament, consisting of between four and five hundred members, in +the election of which neither the Royalists nor the Catholics were to have any +share. He had also pledged himself that this Parliament should not be dissolved +without its own consent until it had sat five months. +</p> + +<p> +When this Parliament met, Oliver made a speech to them of three hours long, +very wisely advising them what to do for the credit and happiness of the +country. To keep down the more violent members, he required them to sign a +recognition of what they were forbidden by ‘the Instrument’ to do; +which was, chiefly, to take the power from one single person at the head of the +state or to command the army. Then he dismissed them to go to work. With his +usual vigour and resolution he went to work himself with some frantic +preachers—who were rather overdoing their sermons in calling him a +villain and a tyrant—by shutting up their chapels, and sending a few of +them off to prison. +</p> + +<p> +There was not at that time, in England or anywhere else, a man so able to +govern the country as Oliver Cromwell. Although he ruled with a strong hand, +and levied a very heavy tax on the Royalists (but not until they had plotted +against his life), he ruled wisely, and as the times required. He caused +England to be so respected abroad, that I wish some lords and gentlemen who +have governed it under kings and queens in later days would have taken a leaf +out of Oliver Cromwell’s book. He sent bold Admiral Blake to the +Mediterranean Sea, to make the Duke of Tuscany pay sixty thousand pounds for +injuries he had done to British subjects, and spoliation he had committed on +English merchants. He further despatched him and his fleet to Algiers, Tunis, +and Tripoli, to have every English ship and every English man delivered up to +him that had been taken by pirates in those parts. All this was gloriously +done; and it began to be thoroughly well known, all over the world, that +England was governed by a man in earnest, who would not allow the English name +to be insulted or slighted anywhere. +</p> + +<p> +These were not all his foreign triumphs. He sent a fleet to sea against the +Dutch; and the two powers, each with one hundred ships upon its side, met in +the English Channel off the North Foreland, where the fight lasted all day +long. Dean was killed in this fight; but Monk, who commanded in the same ship +with him, threw his cloak over his body, that the sailors might not know of his +death, and be disheartened. Nor were they. The English broadsides so +exceedingly astonished the Dutch that they sheered off at last, though the +redoubtable Van Tromp fired upon them with his own guns for deserting their +flag. Soon afterwards, the two fleets engaged again, off the coast of Holland. +There, the valiant Van Tromp was shot through the heart, and the Dutch gave in, +and peace was made. +</p> + +<p> +Further than this, Oliver resolved not to bear the domineering and bigoted +conduct of Spain, which country not only claimed a right to all the gold and +silver that could be found in South America, and treated the ships of all other +countries who visited those regions, as pirates, but put English subjects into +the horrible Spanish prisons of the Inquisition. So, Oliver told the Spanish +ambassador that English ships must be free to go wherever they would, and that +English merchants must not be thrown into those same dungeons, no, not for the +pleasure of all the priests in Spain. To this, the Spanish ambassador replied +that the gold and silver country, and the Holy Inquisition, were his +King’s two eyes, neither of which he could submit to have put out. Very +well, said Oliver, then he was afraid he (Oliver) must damage those two eyes +directly. +</p> + +<p> +So, another fleet was despatched under two commanders, <span +class="smcap">Penn</span> and <span class="smcap">Venables</span>, for +Hispaniola; where, however, the Spaniards got the better of the fight. +Consequently, the fleet came home again, after taking Jamaica on the way. +Oliver, indignant with the two commanders who had not done what bold Admiral +Blake would have done, clapped them both into prison, declared war against +Spain, and made a treaty with France, in virtue of which it was to shelter the +King and his brother the Duke of York no longer. Then, he sent a fleet abroad +under bold Admiral Blake, which brought the King of Portugal to his +senses—just to keep its hand in—and then engaged a Spanish fleet, +sunk four great ships, and took two more, laden with silver to the value of two +millions of pounds: which dazzling prize was brought from Portsmouth to London +in waggons, with the populace of all the towns and villages through which the +waggons passed, shouting with all their might. After this victory, bold Admiral +Blake sailed away to the port of Santa Cruz to cut off the Spanish +treasure-ships coming from Mexico. There, he found them, ten in number, with +seven others to take care of them, and a big castle, and seven batteries, all +roaring and blazing away at him with great guns. Blake cared no more for great +guns than for pop-guns—no more for their hot iron balls than for +snow-balls. He dashed into the harbour, captured and burnt every one of the +ships, and came sailing out again triumphantly, with the victorious English +flag flying at his masthead. This was the last triumph of this great commander, +who had sailed and fought until he was quite worn out. He died, as his +successful ship was coming into Plymouth Harbour amidst the joyful acclamations +of the people, and was buried in state in Westminster Abbey. Not to lie there, +long. +</p> + +<p> +Over and above all this, Oliver found that the <span +class="smcap">Vaudois</span>, or Protestant people of the valleys of Lucerne, +were insolently treated by the Catholic powers, and were even put to death for +their religion, in an audacious and bloody manner. Instantly, he informed those +powers that this was a thing which Protestant England would not allow; and he +speedily carried his point, through the might of his great name, and +established their right to worship God in peace after their own harmless +manner. +</p> + +<p> +Lastly, his English army won such admiration in fighting with the French +against the Spaniards, that, after they had assaulted the town of Dunkirk +together, the French King in person gave it up to the English, that it might be +a token to them of their might and valour. +</p> + +<p> +There were plots enough against Oliver among the frantic religionists (who +called themselves Fifth Monarchy Men), and among the disappointed Republicans. +He had a difficult game to play, for the Royalists were always ready to side +with either party against him. The ‘King over the water,’ too, as +Charles was called, had no scruples about plotting with any one against his +life; although there is reason to suppose that he would willingly have married +one of his daughters, if Oliver would have had such a son-in-law. There was a +certain <span class="smcap">Colonel Saxby</span> of the army, once a great +supporter of Oliver’s but now turned against him, who was a grievous +trouble to him through all this part of his career; and who came and went +between the discontented in England and Spain, and Charles who put himself in +alliance with Spain on being thrown off by France. This man died in prison at +last; but not until there had been very serious plots between the Royalists and +Republicans, and an actual rising of them in England, when they burst into the +city of Salisbury, on a Sunday night, seized the judges who were going to hold +the assizes there next day, and would have hanged them but for the merciful +objections of the more temperate of their number. Oliver was so vigorous and +shrewd that he soon put this revolt down, as he did most other conspiracies; +and it was well for one of its chief managers—that same Lord Wilmot who +had assisted in Charles’s flight, and was now <span class="smcap">Earl of +Rochester</span>—that he made his escape. Oliver seemed to have eyes and +ears everywhere, and secured such sources of information as his enemies little +dreamed of. There was a chosen body of six persons, called the Sealed Knot, who +were in the closest and most secret confidence of Charles. One of the foremost +of these very men, a <span class="smcap">Sir Richard Willis</span>, reported to +Oliver everything that passed among them, and had two hundred a year for it. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">Miles Syndarcomb</span>, also of the old army, was another +conspirator against the Protector. He and a man named <span +class="smcap">Cecil</span>, bribed one of his Life Guards to let them have good +notice when he was going out—intending to shoot him from a window. But, +owing either to his caution or his good fortune, they could never get an aim at +him. Disappointed in this design, they got into the chapel in Whitehall, with a +basketful of combustibles, which were to explode by means of a slow match in +six hours; then, in the noise and confusion of the fire, they hoped to kill +Oliver. But, the Life Guardsman himself disclosed this plot; and they were +seized, and Miles died (or killed himself in prison) a little while before he +was ordered for execution. A few such plotters Oliver caused to be beheaded, a +few more to be hanged, and many more, including those who rose in arms against +him, to be sent as slaves to the West Indies. If he were rigid, he was +impartial too, in asserting the laws of England. When a Portuguese nobleman, +the brother of the Portuguese ambassador, killed a London citizen in mistake +for another man with whom he had had a quarrel, Oliver caused him to be tried +before a jury of Englishmen and foreigners, and had him executed in spite of +the entreaties of all the ambassadors in London. +</p> + +<p> +One of Oliver’s own friends, the <span class="smcap">Duke of +Oldenburgh</span>, in sending him a present of six fine coach-horses, was very +near doing more to please the Royalists than all the plotters put together. One +day, Oliver went with his coach, drawn by these six horses, into Hyde Park, to +dine with his secretary and some of his other gentlemen under the trees there. +After dinner, being merry, he took it into his head to put his friends inside +and to drive them home: a postillion riding one of the foremost horses, as the +custom was. On account of Oliver’s being too free with the whip, the six +fine horses went off at a gallop, the postillion got thrown, and Oliver fell +upon the coach-pole and narrowly escaped being shot by his own pistol, which +got entangled with his clothes in the harness, and went off. He was dragged +some distance by the foot, until his foot came out of the shoe, and then he +came safely to the ground under the broad body of the coach, and was very +little the worse. The gentlemen inside were only bruised, and the discontented +people of all parties were much disappointed. +</p> + +<p> +The rest of the history of the Protectorate of Oliver Cromwell is a history of +his Parliaments. His first one not pleasing him at all, he waited until the +five months were out, and then dissolved it. The next was better suited to his +views; and from that he desired to get—if he could with safety to +himself—the title of King. He had had this in his mind some time: whether +because he thought that the English people, being more used to the title, were +more likely to obey it; or whether because he really wished to be a king +himself, and to leave the succession to that title in his family, is far from +clear. He was already as high, in England and in all the world, as he would +ever be, and I doubt if he cared for the mere name. However, a paper, called +the ‘Humble Petition and Advice,’ was presented to him by the House +of Commons, praying him to take a high title and to appoint his successor. That +he would have taken the title of King there is no doubt, but for the strong +opposition of the army. This induced him to forbear, and to assent only to the +other points of the petition. Upon which occasion there was another grand show +in Westminster Hall, when the Speaker of the House of Commons formally invested +him with a purple robe lined with ermine, and presented him with a splendidly +bound Bible, and put a golden sceptre in his hand. The next time the Parliament +met, he called a House of Lords of sixty members, as the petition gave him +power to do; but as that Parliament did not please him either, and would not +proceed to the business of the country, he jumped into a coach one morning, +took six Guards with him, and sent them to the right-about. I wish this had +been a warning to Parliaments to avoid long speeches, and do more work. +</p> + +<p> +It was the month of August, one thousand six hundred and fifty-eight, when +Oliver Cromwell’s favourite daughter, <span class="smcap">Elizabeth +Claypole</span> (who had lately lost her youngest son), lay very ill, and his +mind was greatly troubled, because he loved her dearly. Another of his +daughters was married to <span class="smcap">Lord Falconberg</span>, another to +the grandson of the Earl of Warwick, and he had made his son <span +class="smcap">Richard</span> one of the Members of the Upper House. He was very +kind and loving to them all, being a good father and a good husband; but he +loved this daughter the best of the family, and went down to Hampton Court to +see her, and could hardly be induced to stir from her sick room until she died. +Although his religion had been of a gloomy kind, his disposition had been +always cheerful. He had been fond of music in his home, and had kept open table +once a week for all officers of the army not below the rank of captain, and had +always preserved in his house a quiet, sensible dignity. He encouraged men of +genius and learning, and loved to have them about him. <span +class="smcap">Milton</span> was one of his great friends. He was good humoured +too, with the nobility, whose dresses and manners were very different from his; +and to show them what good information he had, he would sometimes jokingly tell +them when they were his guests, where they had last drunk the health of the +‘King over the water,’ and would recommend them to be more private +(if they could) another time. But he had lived in busy times, had borne the +weight of heavy State affairs, and had often gone in fear of his life. He was +ill of the gout and ague; and when the death of his beloved child came upon him +in addition, he sank, never to raise his head again. He told his physicians on +the twenty-fourth of August that the Lord had assured him that he was not to +die in that illness, and that he would certainly get better. This was only his +sick fancy, for on the third of September, which was the anniversary of the +great battle of Worcester, and the day of the year which he called his +fortunate day, he died, in the sixtieth year of his age. He had been delirious, +and had lain insensible some hours, but he had been overheard to murmur a very +good prayer the day before. The whole country lamented his death. If you want +to know the real worth of Oliver Cromwell, and his real services to his +country, you can hardly do better than compare England under him, with England +under <span class="smcap">Charles the Second</span>. +</p> + +<p> +He had appointed his son Richard to succeed him, and after there had been, at +Somerset House in the Strand, a lying in state more splendid than +sensible—as all such vanities after death are, I think—Richard +became Lord Protector. He was an amiable country gentleman, but had none of his +father’s great genius, and was quite unfit for such a post in such a +storm of parties. Richard’s Protectorate, which only lasted a year and a +half, is a history of quarrels between the officers of the army and the +Parliament, and between the officers among themselves; and of a growing +discontent among the people, who had far too many long sermons and far too few +amusements, and wanted a change. At last, General Monk got the army well into +his own hands, and then in pursuance of a secret plan he seems to have +entertained from the time of Oliver’s death, declared for the +King’s cause. He did not do this openly; but, in his place in the House +of Commons, as one of the members for Devonshire, strongly advocated the +proposals of one <span class="smcap">Sir John Greenville</span>, who came to +the House with a letter from Charles, dated from Breda, and with whom he had +previously been in secret communication. There had been plots and counterplots, +and a recall of the last members of the Long Parliament, and an end of the Long +Parliament, and risings of the Royalists that were made too soon; and most men +being tired out, and there being no one to head the country now great Oliver +was dead, it was readily agreed to welcome Charles Stuart. Some of the wiser +and better members said—what was most true—that in the letter from +Breda, he gave no real promise to govern well, and that it would be best to +make him pledge himself beforehand as to what he should be bound to do for the +benefit of the kingdom. Monk said, however, it would be all right when he came, +and he could not come too soon. +</p> + +<p> +So, everybody found out all in a moment that the country <i>must</i> be +prosperous and happy, having another Stuart to condescend to reign over it; and +there was a prodigious firing off of guns, lighting of bonfires, ringing of +bells, and throwing up of caps. The people drank the King’s health by +thousands in the open streets, and everybody rejoiced. Down came the Arms of +the Commonwealth, up went the Royal Arms instead, and out came the public +money. Fifty thousand pounds for the King, ten thousand pounds for his brother +the Duke of York, five thousand pounds for his brother the Duke of Gloucester. +Prayers for these gracious Stuarts were put up in all the churches; +commissioners were sent to Holland (which suddenly found out that Charles was a +great man, and that it loved him) to invite the King home; Monk and the Kentish +grandees went to Dover, to kneel down before him as he landed. He kissed and +embraced Monk, made him ride in the coach with himself and his brothers, came +on to London amid wonderful shoutings, and passed through the army at +Blackheath on the twenty-ninth of May (his birthday), in the year one thousand +six hundred and sixty. Greeted by splendid dinners under tents, by flags and +tapestry streaming from all the houses, by delighted crowds in all the streets, +by troops of noblemen and gentlemen in rich dresses, by City companies, +train-bands, drummers, trumpeters, the great Lord Mayor, and the majestic +Aldermen, the King went on to Whitehall. On entering it, he commemorated his +Restoration with the joke that it really would seem to have been his own fault +that he had not come long ago, since everybody told him that he had always +wished for him with all his heart. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap35"></a>CHAPTER XXXV<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER CHARLES THE SECOND, CALLED THE MERRY MONARCH</h2> + +<p> +There never were such profligate times in England as under Charles the Second. +Whenever you see his portrait, with his swarthy, ill-looking face and great +nose, you may fancy him in his Court at Whitehall, surrounded by some of the +very worst vagabonds in the kingdom (though they were lords and ladies), +drinking, gambling, indulging in vicious conversation, and committing every +kind of profligate excess. It has been a fashion to call Charles the Second +‘The Merry Monarch.’ Let me try to give you a general idea of some +of the merry things that were done, in the merry days when this merry gentleman +sat upon his merry throne, in merry England. +</p> + +<p> +The first merry proceeding was—of course—to declare that he was one +of the greatest, the wisest, and the noblest kings that ever shone, like the +blessed sun itself, on this benighted earth. The next merry and pleasant piece +of business was, for the Parliament, in the humblest manner, to give him one +million two hundred thousand pounds a year, and to settle upon him for life +that old disputed tonnage and poundage which had been so bravely fought for. +Then, General Monk being made <span class="smcap">Earl of Albemarle</span>, and +a few other Royalists similarly rewarded, the law went to work to see what was +to be done to those persons (they were called Regicides) who had been concerned +in making a martyr of the late King. Ten of these were merrily executed; that +is to say, six of the judges, one of the council, Colonel Hacker and another +officer who had commanded the Guards, and <span class="smcap">Hugh +Peters</span>, a preacher who had preached against the martyr with all his +heart. These executions were so extremely merry, that every horrible +circumstance which Cromwell had abandoned was revived with appalling cruelty. +The hearts of the sufferers were torn out of their living bodies; their bowels +were burned before their faces; the executioner cut jokes to the next victim, +as he rubbed his filthy hands together, that were reeking with the blood of the +last; and the heads of the dead were drawn on sledges with the living to the +place of suffering. Still, even so merry a monarch could not force one of these +dying men to say that he was sorry for what he had done. Nay, the most +memorable thing said among them was, that if the thing were to do again they +would do it. +</p> + +<p> +Sir Harry Vane, who had furnished the evidence against Strafford, and was one +of the most staunch of the Republicans, was also tried, found guilty, and +ordered for execution. When he came upon the scaffold on Tower Hill, after +conducting his own defence with great power, his notes of what he had meant to +say to the people were torn away from him, and the drums and trumpets were +ordered to sound lustily and drown his voice; for, the people had been so much +impressed by what the Regicides had calmly said with their last breath, that it +was the custom now, to have the drums and trumpets always under the scaffold, +ready to strike up. Vane said no more than this: ‘It is a bad cause which +cannot bear the words of a dying man:’ and bravely died. +</p> + +<p> +These merry scenes were succeeded by another, perhaps even merrier. On the +anniversary of the late King’s death, the bodies of Oliver Cromwell, +Ireton, and Bradshaw, were torn out of their graves in Westminster Abbey, +dragged to Tyburn, hanged there on a gallows all day long, and then beheaded. +Imagine the head of Oliver Cromwell set upon a pole to be stared at by a brutal +crowd, not one of whom would have dared to look the living Oliver in the face +for half a moment! Think, after you have read this reign, what England was +under Oliver Cromwell who was torn out of his grave, and what it was under this +merry monarch who sold it, like a merry Judas, over and over again. +</p> + +<p> +Of course, the remains of Oliver’s wife and daughter were not to be +spared either, though they had been most excellent women. The base clergy of +that time gave up their bodies, which had been buried in the Abbey, +and—to the eternal disgrace of England—they were thrown into a pit, +together with the mouldering bones of Pym and of the brave and bold old Admiral +Blake. +</p> + +<p> +The clergy acted this disgraceful part because they hoped to get the +nonconformists, or dissenters, thoroughly put down in this reign, and to have +but one prayer-book and one service for all kinds of people, no matter what +their private opinions were. This was pretty well, I think, for a Protestant +Church, which had displaced the Romish Church because people had a right to +their own opinions in religious matters. However, they carried it with a high +hand, and a prayer-book was agreed upon, in which the extremest opinions of +Archbishop Laud were not forgotten. An Act was passed, too, preventing any +dissenter from holding any office under any corporation. So, the regular clergy +in their triumph were soon as merry as the King. The army being by this time +disbanded, and the King crowned, everything was to go on easily for evermore. +</p> + +<p> +I must say a word here about the King’s family. He had not been long upon +the throne when his brother the Duke of Gloucester, and his sister the <span +class="smcap">Princess of Orange</span>, died within a few months of each +other, of small-pox. His remaining sister, the <span class="smcap">Princess +Henrietta</span>, married the <span class="smcap">Duke of Orleans</span>, the +brother of <span class="smcap">Louis the Fourteenth</span>, King of France. His +brother <span class="smcap">James</span>, <span class="smcap">Duke of +York</span>, was made High Admiral, and by-and-by became a Catholic. He was a +gloomy, sullen, bilious sort of man, with a remarkable partiality for the +ugliest women in the country. He married, under very discreditable +circumstances, <span class="smcap">Anne Hyde</span>, the daughter of <span +class="smcap">Lord Clarendon</span>, then the King’s principal +Minister—not at all a delicate minister either, but doing much of the +dirty work of a very dirty palace. It became important now that the King +himself should be married; and divers foreign Monarchs, not very particular +about the character of their son-in-law, proposed their daughters to him. The +<span class="smcap">King of Portugal</span> offered his daughter, <span +class="smcap">Catherine of Braganza</span>, and fifty thousand pounds: in +addition to which, the French King, who was favourable to that match, offered a +loan of another fifty thousand. The King of Spain, on the other hand, offered +any one out of a dozen of Princesses, and other hopes of gain. But the ready +money carried the day, and Catherine came over in state to her merry marriage. +</p> + +<p> +The whole Court was a great flaunting crowd of debauched men and shameless +women; and Catherine’s merry husband insulted and outraged her in every +possible way, until she consented to receive those worthless creatures as her +very good friends, and to degrade herself by their companionship. A <span +class="smcap">Mrs. Palmer</span>, whom the King made <span class="smcap">Lady +Castlemaine</span>, and afterwards <span class="smcap">Duchess of +Cleveland</span>, was one of the most powerful of the bad women about the +Court, and had great influence with the King nearly all through his reign. +Another merry lady named <span class="smcap">Moll Davies</span>, a dancer at +the theatre, was afterwards her rival. So was <span class="smcap">Nell +Gwyn</span>, first an orange girl and then an actress, who really had good in +her, and of whom one of the worst things I know is, that actually she does seem +to have been fond of the King. The first <span class="smcap">Duke of St. +Albans</span> was this orange girl’s child. In like manner the son of a +merry waiting-lady, whom the King created <span class="smcap">Duchess Of +Portsmouth</span>, became the <span class="smcap">Duke of Richmond</span>. Upon +the whole it is not so bad a thing to be a commoner. +</p> + +<p> +The Merry Monarch was so exceedingly merry among these merry ladies, and some +equally merry (and equally infamous) lords and gentlemen, that he soon got +through his hundred thousand pounds, and then, by way of raising a little +pocket-money, made a merry bargain. He sold Dunkirk to the French King for five +millions of livres. When I think of the dignity to which Oliver Cromwell raised +England in the eyes of foreign powers, and when I think of the manner in which +he gained for England this very Dunkirk, I am much inclined to consider that if +the Merry Monarch had been made to follow his father for this action, he would +have received his just deserts. +</p> + +<p> +Though he was like his father in none of that father’s greater qualities, +he was like him in being worthy of no trust. When he sent that letter to the +Parliament, from Breda, he did expressly promise that all sincere religious +opinions should be respected. Yet he was no sooner firm in his power than he +consented to one of the worst Acts of Parliament ever passed. Under this law, +every minister who should not give his solemn assent to the Prayer-Book by a +certain day, was declared to be a minister no longer, and to be deprived of his +church. The consequence of this was that some two thousand honest men were +taken from their congregations, and reduced to dire poverty and distress. It +was followed by another outrageous law, called the Conventicle Act, by which +any person above the age of sixteen who was present at any religious service +not according to the Prayer-Book, was to be imprisoned three months for the +first offence, six for the second, and to be transported for the third. This +Act alone filled the prisons, which were then most dreadful dungeons, to +overflowing. +</p> + +<p> +The Covenanters in Scotland had already fared no better. A base Parliament, +usually known as the Drunken Parliament, in consequence of its principal +members being seldom sober, had been got together to make laws against the +Covenanters, and to force all men to be of one mind in religious matters. The +<span class="smcap">Marquis of Argyle</span>, relying on the King’s +honour, had given himself up to him; but, he was wealthy, and his enemies +wanted his wealth. He was tried for treason, on the evidence of some private +letters in which he had expressed opinions—as well he might—more +favourable to the government of the late Lord Protector than of the present +merry and religious King. He was executed, as were two men of mark among the +Covenanters; and <span class="smcap">Sharp</span>, a traitor who had once been +the friend of the Presbyterians and betrayed them, was made Archbishop of St. +Andrew’s, to teach the Scotch how to like bishops. +</p> + +<p> +Things being in this merry state at home, the Merry Monarch undertook a war +with the Dutch; principally because they interfered with an African company, +established with the two objects of buying gold-dust and slaves, of which the +Duke of York was a leading member. After some preliminary hostilities, the said +Duke sailed to the coast of Holland with a fleet of ninety-eight vessels of +war, and four fire-ships. This engaged with the Dutch fleet, of no fewer than +one hundred and thirteen ships. In the great battle between the two forces, the +Dutch lost eighteen ships, four admirals, and seven thousand men. But, the +English on shore were in no mood of exultation when they heard the news. +</p> + +<p> +For, this was the year and the time of the Great Plague in London. During the +winter of one thousand six hundred and sixty-four it had been whispered about, +that some few people had died here and there of the disease called the Plague, +in some of the unwholesome suburbs around London. News was not published at +that time as it is now, and some people believed these rumours, and some +disbelieved them, and they were soon forgotten. But, in the month of May, one +thousand six hundred and sixty-five, it began to be said all over the town that +the disease had burst out with great violence in St. Giles’s, and that +the people were dying in great numbers. This soon turned out to be awfully +true. The roads out of London were choked up by people endeavouring to escape +from the infected city, and large sums were paid for any kind of conveyance. +The disease soon spread so fast, that it was necessary to shut up the houses in +which sick people were, and to cut them off from communication with the living. +Every one of these houses was marked on the outside of the door with a red +cross, and the words, Lord, have mercy upon us! The streets were all deserted, +grass grew in the public ways, and there was a dreadful silence in the air. +When night came on, dismal rumblings used to be heard, and these were the +wheels of the death-carts, attended by men with veiled faces and holding cloths +to their mouths, who rang doleful bells and cried in a loud and solemn voice, +‘Bring out your dead!’ The corpses put into these carts were buried +by torchlight in great pits; no service being performed over them; all men +being afraid to stay for a moment on the brink of the ghastly graves. In the +general fear, children ran away from their parents, and parents from their +children. Some who were taken ill, died alone, and without any help. Some were +stabbed or strangled by hired nurses who robbed them of all their money, and +stole the very beds on which they lay. Some went mad, dropped from the windows, +ran through the streets, and in their pain and frenzy flung themselves into the +river. +</p> + +<p> +These were not all the horrors of the time. The wicked and dissolute, in wild +desperation, sat in the taverns singing roaring songs, and were stricken as +they drank, and went out and died. The fearful and superstitious persuaded +themselves that they saw supernatural sights—burning swords in the sky, +gigantic arms and darts. Others pretended that at nights vast crowds of ghosts +walked round and round the dismal pits. One madman, naked, and carrying a +brazier full of burning coals upon his head, stalked through the streets, +crying out that he was a Prophet, commissioned to denounce the vengeance of the +Lord on wicked London. Another always went to and fro, exclaiming, ‘Yet +forty days, and London shall be destroyed!’ A third awoke the echoes in +the dismal streets, by night and by day, and made the blood of the sick run +cold, by calling out incessantly, in a deep hoarse voice, ‘O, the great +and dreadful God!’ +</p> + +<p> +Through the months of July and August and September, the Great Plague raged +more and more. Great fires were lighted in the streets, in the hope of stopping +the infection; but there was a plague of rain too, and it beat the fires out. +At last, the winds which usually arise at that time of the year which is called +the equinox, when day and night are of equal length all over the world, began +to blow, and to purify the wretched town. The deaths began to decrease, the red +crosses slowly to disappear, the fugitives to return, the shops to open, pale +frightened faces to be seen in the streets. The Plague had been in every part +of England, but in close and unwholesome London it had killed one hundred +thousand people. +</p> + +<p> +All this time, the Merry Monarch was as merry as ever, and as worthless as +ever. All this time, the debauched lords and gentlemen and the shameless ladies +danced and gamed and drank, and loved and hated one another, according to their +merry ways. +</p> + +<p> +So little humanity did the government learn from the late affliction, that one +of the first things the Parliament did when it met at Oxford (being as yet +afraid to come to London), was to make a law, called the Five Mile Act, +expressly directed against those poor ministers who, in the time of the Plague, +had manfully come back to comfort the unhappy people. This infamous law, by +forbidding them to teach in any school, or to come within five miles of any +city, town, or village, doomed them to starvation and death. +</p> + +<p> +The fleet had been at sea, and healthy. The King of France was now in alliance +with the Dutch, though his navy was chiefly employed in looking on while the +English and Dutch fought. The Dutch gained one victory; and the English gained +another and a greater; and Prince Rupert, one of the English admirals, was out +in the Channel one windy night, looking for the French Admiral, with the +intention of giving him something more to do than he had had yet, when the gale +increased to a storm, and blew him into Saint Helen’s. That night was the +third of September, one thousand six hundred and sixty-six, and that wind +fanned the Great Fire of London. +</p> + +<p> +It broke out at a baker’s shop near London Bridge, on the spot on which +the Monument now stands as a remembrance of those raging flames. It spread and +spread, and burned and burned, for three days. The nights were lighter than the +days; in the daytime there was an immense cloud of smoke, and in the night-time +there was a great tower of fire mounting up into the sky, which lighted the +whole country landscape for ten miles round. Showers of hot ashes rose into the +air and fell on distant places; flying sparks carried the conflagration to +great distances, and kindled it in twenty new spots at a time; church steeples +fell down with tremendous crashes; houses crumbled into cinders by the hundred +and the thousand. The summer had been intensely hot and dry, the streets were +very narrow, and the houses mostly built of wood and plaster. Nothing could +stop the tremendous fire, but the want of more houses to burn; nor did it stop +until the whole way from the Tower to Temple Bar was a desert, composed of the +ashes of thirteen thousand houses and eighty-nine churches. +</p> + +<p> +This was a terrible visitation at the time, and occasioned great loss and +suffering to the two hundred thousand burnt-out people, who were obliged to lie +in the fields under the open night sky, or in hastily-made huts of mud and +straw, while the lanes and roads were rendered impassable by carts which had +broken down as they tried to save their goods. But the Fire was a great +blessing to the City afterwards, for it arose from its ruins very much +improved—built more regularly, more widely, more cleanly and carefully, +and therefore much more healthily. It might be far more healthy than it is, but +there are some people in it still—even now, at this time, nearly two +hundred years later—so selfish, so pig-headed, and so ignorant, that I +doubt if even another Great Fire would warm them up to do their duty. +</p> + +<p> +The Catholics were accused of having wilfully set London in flames; one poor +Frenchman, who had been mad for years, even accused himself of having with his +own hand fired the first house. There is no reasonable doubt, however, that the +fire was accidental. An inscription on the Monument long attributed it to the +Catholics; but it is removed now, and was always a malicious and stupid +untruth. +</p> + +<h3>SECOND PART</h3> + +<p> +That the Merry Monarch might be very merry indeed, in the merry times when his +people were suffering under pestilence and fire, he drank and gambled and flung +away among his favourites the money which the Parliament had voted for the war. +The consequence of this was that the stout-hearted English sailors were merrily +starving of want, and dying in the streets; while the Dutch, under their +admirals <span class="smcap">De Witt</span> and <span class="smcap">De +Ruyter</span>, came into the River Thames, and up the River Medway as far as +Upnor, burned the guard-ships, silenced the weak batteries, and did what they +would to the English coast for six whole weeks. Most of the English ships that +could have prevented them had neither powder nor shot on board; in this merry +reign, public officers made themselves as merry as the King did with the public +money; and when it was entrusted to them to spend in national defences or +preparations, they put it into their own pockets with the merriest grace in the +world. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Clarendon had, by this time, run as long a course as is usually allotted +to the unscrupulous ministers of bad kings. He was impeached by his political +opponents, but unsuccessfully. The King then commanded him to withdraw from +England and retire to France, which he did, after defending himself in writing. +He was no great loss at home, and died abroad some seven years afterwards. +</p> + +<p> +There then came into power a ministry called the Cabal Ministry, because it was +composed of <span class="smcap">Lord Clifford</span>, the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Arlington</span>, the <span class="smcap">Duke of +Buckingham</span> (a great rascal, and the King’s most powerful +favourite), <span class="smcap">Lord Ashley</span>, and the <span +class="smcap">Duke of Lauderdale</span>, <span class="smcap">c. a. b. a. +l.</span> As the French were making conquests in Flanders, the first Cabal +proceeding was to make a treaty with the Dutch, for uniting with Spain to +oppose the French. It was no sooner made than the Merry Monarch, who always +wanted to get money without being accountable to a Parliament for his +expenditure, apologised to the King of France for having had anything to do +with it, and concluded a secret treaty with him, making himself his infamous +pensioner to the amount of two millions of livres down, and three millions more +a year; and engaging to desert that very Spain, to make war against those very +Dutch, and to declare himself a Catholic when a convenient time should arrive. +This religious king had lately been crying to his Catholic brother on the +subject of his strong desire to be a Catholic; and now he merrily concluded +this treasonable conspiracy against the country he governed, by undertaking to +become one as soon as he safely could. For all of which, though he had had ten +merry heads instead of one, he richly deserved to lose them by the +headsman’s axe. +</p> + +<p> +As his one merry head might have been far from safe, if these things had been +known, they were kept very quiet, and war was declared by France and England +against the Dutch. But, a very uncommon man, afterwards most important to +English history and to the religion and liberty of this land, arose among them, +and for many long years defeated the whole projects of France. This was <span +class="smcap">William of Nassau</span>, <span class="smcap">Prince of +Orange</span>, son of the last Prince of Orange of the same name, who married +the daughter of Charles the First of England. He was a young man at this time, +only just of age; but he was brave, cool, intrepid, and wise. His father had +been so detested that, upon his death, the Dutch had abolished the authority to +which this son would have otherwise succeeded (Stadtholder it was called), and +placed the chief power in the hands of <span class="smcap">John de Witt</span>, +who educated this young prince. Now, the Prince became very popular, and John +de Witt’s brother <span class="smcap">Cornelius</span> was sentenced to +banishment on a false accusation of conspiring to kill him. John went to the +prison where he was, to take him away to exile, in his coach; and a great mob +who collected on the occasion, then and there cruelly murdered both the +brothers. This left the government in the hands of the Prince, who was really +the choice of the nation; and from this time he exercised it with the greatest +vigour, against the whole power of France, under its famous generals <span +class="smcap">Condé</span> and <span class="smcap">Turenne</span>, and +in support of the Protestant religion. It was full seven years before this war +ended in a treaty of peace made at Nimeguen, and its details would occupy a +very considerable space. It is enough to say that William of Orange established +a famous character with the whole world; and that the Merry Monarch, adding to +and improving on his former baseness, bound himself to do everything the King +of France liked, and nothing the King of France did not like, for a pension of +one hundred thousand pounds a year, which was afterwards doubled. Besides this, +the King of France, by means of his corrupt ambassador—who wrote accounts +of his proceedings in England, which are not always to be believed, I +think—bought our English members of Parliament, as he wanted them. So, in +point of fact, during a considerable portion of this merry reign, the King of +France was the real King of this country. +</p> + +<p> +But there was a better time to come, and it was to come (though his royal uncle +little thought so) through that very William, Prince of Orange. He came over to +England, saw Mary, the elder daughter of the Duke of York, and married her. We +shall see by-and-by what came of that marriage, and why it is never to be +forgotten. +</p> + +<p> +This daughter was a Protestant, but her mother died a Catholic. She and her +sister <span class="smcap">Anne</span>, also a Protestant, were the only +survivors of eight children. Anne afterwards married <span +class="smcap">George</span>, <span class="smcap">Prince of Denmark</span>, +brother to the King of that country. +</p> + +<p> +Lest you should do the Merry Monarch the injustice of supposing that he was +even good humoured (except when he had everything his own way), or that he was +high spirited and honourable, I will mention here what was done to a member of +the House of Commons, <span class="smcap">Sir John Coventry</span>. He made a +remark in a debate about taxing the theatres, which gave the King offence. The +King agreed with his illegitimate son, who had been born abroad, and whom he +had made <span class="smcap">Duke of Monmouth</span>, to take the following +merry vengeance. To waylay him at night, fifteen armed men to one, and to slit +his nose with a penknife. Like master, like man. The King’s favourite, +the Duke of Buckingham, was strongly suspected of setting on an assassin to +murder the <span class="smcap">Duke of Ormond</span> as he was returning home +from a dinner; and that Duke’s spirited son, <span class="smcap">Lord +Ossory</span>, was so persuaded of his guilt, that he said to him at Court, +even as he stood beside the King, ‘My lord, I know very well that you are +at the bottom of this late attempt upon my father. But I give you warning, if +he ever come to a violent end, his blood shall be upon you, and wherever I meet +you I will pistol you! I will do so, though I find you standing behind the +King’s chair; and I tell you this in his Majesty’s presence, that +you may be quite sure of my doing what I threaten.’ Those were merry +times indeed. +</p> + +<p> +There was a fellow named <span class="smcap">Blood</span>, who was seized for +making, with two companions, an audacious attempt to steal the crown, the +globe, and sceptre, from the place where the jewels were kept in the Tower. +This robber, who was a swaggering ruffian, being taken, declared that he was +the man who had endeavoured to kill the Duke of Ormond, and that he had meant +to kill the King too, but was overawed by the majesty of his appearance, when +he might otherwise have done it, as he was bathing at Battersea. The King being +but an ill-looking fellow, I don’t believe a word of this. Whether he was +flattered, or whether he knew that Buckingham had really set Blood on to murder +the Duke, is uncertain. But it is quite certain that he pardoned this thief, +gave him an estate of five hundred a year in Ireland (which had had the honour +of giving him birth), and presented him at Court to the debauched lords and the +shameless ladies, who made a great deal of him—as I have no doubt they +would have made of the Devil himself, if the King had introduced him. +</p> + +<p> +Infamously pensioned as he was, the King still wanted money, and consequently +was obliged to call Parliaments. In these, the great object of the Protestants +was to thwart the Catholic Duke of York, who married a second time; his new +wife being a young lady only fifteen years old, the Catholic sister of the +<span class="smcap">Duke of Modena</span>. In this they were seconded by the +Protestant Dissenters, though to their own disadvantage: since, to exclude +Catholics from power, they were even willing to exclude themselves. The +King’s object was to pretend to be a Protestant, while he was really a +Catholic; to swear to the bishops that he was devoutly attached to the English +Church, while he knew he had bargained it away to the King of France; and by +cheating and deceiving them, and all who were attached to royalty, to become +despotic and be powerful enough to confess what a rascal he was. Meantime, the +King of France, knowing his merry pensioner well, intrigued with the +King’s opponents in Parliament, as well as with the King and his friends. +</p> + +<p> +The fears that the country had of the Catholic religion being restored, if the +Duke of York should come to the throne, and the low cunning of the King in +pretending to share their alarms, led to some very terrible results. A certain +<span class="smcap">Dr. Tonge</span>, a dull clergyman in the City, fell into +the hands of a certain <span class="smcap">Titus Oates</span>, a most infamous +character, who pretended to have acquired among the Jesuits abroad a knowledge +of a great plot for the murder of the King, and the re-establishment of the +Catholic religion. Titus Oates, being produced by this unlucky Dr. Tonge and +solemnly examined before the council, contradicted himself in a thousand ways, +told the most ridiculous and improbable stories, and implicated <span +class="smcap">Coleman</span>, the Secretary of the Duchess of York. Now, +although what he charged against Coleman was not true, and although you and I +know very well that the real dangerous Catholic plot was that one with the King +of France of which the Merry Monarch was himself the head, there happened to be +found among Coleman’s papers, some letters, in which he did praise the +days of Bloody Queen Mary, and abuse the Protestant religion. This was great +good fortune for Titus, as it seemed to confirm him; but better still was in +store. <span class="smcap">Sir Edmundbury Godfrey</span>, the magistrate who +had first examined him, being unexpectedly found dead near Primrose Hill, was +confidently believed to have been killed by the Catholics. I think there is no +doubt that he had been melancholy mad, and that he killed himself; but he had a +great Protestant funeral, and Titus was called the Saver of the Nation, and +received a pension of twelve hundred pounds a year. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as Oates’s wickedness had met with this success, up started +another villain, named <span class="smcap">William Bedloe</span>, who, +attracted by a reward of five hundred pounds offered for the apprehension of +the murderers of Godfrey, came forward and charged two Jesuits and some other +persons with having committed it at the Queen’s desire. Oates, going into +partnership with this new informer, had the audacity to accuse the poor Queen +herself of high treason. Then appeared a third informer, as bad as either of +the two, and accused a Catholic banker named <span class="smcap">Stayley</span> +of having said that the King was the greatest rogue in the world (which would +not have been far from the truth), and that he would kill him with his own +hand. This banker, being at once tried and executed, Coleman and two others +were tried and executed. Then, a miserable wretch named <span +class="smcap">Prance</span>, a Catholic silversmith, being accused by Bedloe, +was tortured into confessing that he had taken part in Godfrey’s murder, +and into accusing three other men of having committed it. Then, five Jesuits +were accused by Oates, Bedloe, and Prance together, and were all found guilty, +and executed on the same kind of contradictory and absurd evidence. The +Queen’s physician and three monks were next put on their trial; but Oates +and Bedloe had for the time gone far enough and these four were acquitted. The +public mind, however, was so full of a Catholic plot, and so strong against the +Duke of York, that James consented to obey a written order from his brother, +and to go with his family to Brussels, provided that his rights should never be +sacrificed in his absence to the Duke of Monmouth. The House of Commons, not +satisfied with this as the King hoped, passed a bill to exclude the Duke from +ever succeeding to the throne. In return, the King dissolved the Parliament. He +had deserted his old favourite, the Duke of Buckingham, who was now in the +opposition. +</p> + +<p> +To give any sufficient idea of the miseries of Scotland in this merry reign, +would occupy a hundred pages. Because the people would not have bishops, and +were resolved to stand by their solemn League and Covenant, such cruelties were +inflicted upon them as make the blood run cold. Ferocious dragoons galloped +through the country to punish the peasants for deserting the churches; sons +were hanged up at their fathers’ doors for refusing to disclose where +their fathers were concealed; wives were tortured to death for not betraying +their husbands; people were taken out of their fields and gardens, and shot on +the public roads without trial; lighted matches were tied to the fingers of +prisoners, and a most horrible torment called the Boot was invented, and +constantly applied, which ground and mashed the victims’ legs with iron +wedges. Witnesses were tortured as well as prisoners. All the prisons were +full; all the gibbets were heavy with bodies; murder and plunder devastated the +whole country. In spite of all, the Covenanters were by no means to be dragged +into the churches, and persisted in worshipping God as they thought right. A +body of ferocious Highlanders, turned upon them from the mountains of their own +country, had no greater effect than the English dragoons under <span +class="smcap">Grahame of Claverhouse</span>, the most cruel and rapacious of +all their enemies, whose name will ever be cursed through the length and +breadth of Scotland. Archbishop Sharp had ever aided and abetted all these +outrages. But he fell at last; for, when the injuries of the Scottish people +were at their height, he was seen, in his coach-and-six coming across a moor, +by a body of men, headed by one <span class="smcap">John Balfour</span>, who +were waiting for another of their oppressors. Upon this they cried out that +Heaven had delivered him into their hands, and killed him with many wounds. If +ever a man deserved such a death, I think Archbishop Sharp did. +</p> + +<p> +It made a great noise directly, and the Merry Monarch—strongly suspected +of having goaded the Scottish people on, that he might have an excuse for a +greater army than the Parliament were willing to give him—sent down his +son, the Duke of Monmouth, as commander-in-chief, with instructions to attack +the Scottish rebels, or Whigs as they were called, whenever he came up with +them. Marching with ten thousand men from Edinburgh, he found them, in number +four or five thousand, drawn up at Bothwell Bridge, by the Clyde. They were +soon dispersed; and Monmouth showed a more humane character towards them, than +he had shown towards that Member of Parliament whose nose he had caused to be +slit with a penknife. But the Duke of Lauderdale was their bitter foe, and sent +Claverhouse to finish them. +</p> + +<p> +As the Duke of York became more and more unpopular, the Duke of Monmouth became +more and more popular. It would have been decent in the latter not to have +voted in favour of the renewed bill for the exclusion of James from the throne; +but he did so, much to the King’s amusement, who used to sit in the House +of Lords by the fire, hearing the debates, which he said were as good as a +play. The House of Commons passed the bill by a large majority, and it was +carried up to the House of Lords by <span class="smcap">Lord Russell</span>, +one of the best of the leaders on the Protestant side. It was rejected there, +chiefly because the bishops helped the King to get rid of it; and the fear of +Catholic plots revived again. There had been another got up, by a fellow out of +Newgate, named <span class="smcap">Dangerfield</span>, which is more famous +than it deserves to be, under the name of the <span class="smcap">Meal-Tub +Plot</span>. This jail-bird having been got out of Newgate by a <span +class="smcap">Mrs. Cellier</span>, a Catholic nurse, had turned Catholic +himself, and pretended that he knew of a plot among the Presbyterians against +the King’s life. This was very pleasant to the Duke of York, who hated +the Presbyterians, who returned the compliment. He gave Dangerfield twenty +guineas, and sent him to the King his brother. But Dangerfield, breaking down +altogether in his charge, and being sent back to Newgate, almost astonished the +Duke out of his five senses by suddenly swearing that the Catholic nurse had +put that false design into his head, and that what he really knew about, was, a +Catholic plot against the King; the evidence of which would be found in some +papers, concealed in a meal-tub in Mrs. Cellier’s house. There they were, +of course—for he had put them there himself—and so the tub gave the +name to the plot. But, the nurse was acquitted on her trial, and it came to +nothing. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Ashley, of the Cabal, was now Lord Shaftesbury, and was strong against the +succession of the Duke of York. The House of Commons, aggravated to the utmost +extent, as we may well suppose, by suspicions of the King’s conspiracy +with the King of France, made a desperate point of the exclusion, still, and +were bitter against the Catholics generally. So unjustly bitter were they, I +grieve to say, that they impeached the venerable Lord Stafford, a Catholic +nobleman seventy years old, of a design to kill the King. The witnesses were +that atrocious Oates and two other birds of the same feather. He was found +guilty, on evidence quite as foolish as it was false, and was beheaded on Tower +Hill. The people were opposed to him when he first appeared upon the scaffold; +but, when he had addressed them and shown them how innocent he was and how +wickedly he was sent there, their better nature was aroused, and they said, +‘We believe you, my Lord. God bless you, my Lord!’ +</p> + +<p> +The House of Commons refused to let the King have any money until he should +consent to the Exclusion Bill; but, as he could get it and did get it from his +master the King of France, he could afford to hold them very cheap. He called a +Parliament at Oxford, to which he went down with a great show of being armed +and protected as if he were in danger of his life, and to which the opposition +members also went armed and protected, alleging that they were in fear of the +Papists, who were numerous among the King’s guards. However, they went on +with the Exclusion Bill, and were so earnest upon it that they would have +carried it again, if the King had not popped his crown and state robes into a +sedan-chair, bundled himself into it along with them, hurried down to the +chamber where the House of Lords met, and dissolved the Parliament. After which +he scampered home, and the members of Parliament scampered home too, as fast as +their legs could carry them. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of York, then residing in Scotland, had, under the law which excluded +Catholics from public trust, no right whatever to public employment. +Nevertheless, he was openly employed as the King’s representative in +Scotland, and there gratified his sullen and cruel nature to his heart’s +content by directing the dreadful cruelties against the Covenanters. There were +two ministers named <span class="smcap">Cargill</span> and <span +class="smcap">Cameron</span> who had escaped from the battle of Bothwell +Bridge, and who returned to Scotland, and raised the miserable but still brave +and unsubdued Covenanters afresh, under the name of Cameronians. As Cameron +publicly posted a declaration that the King was a forsworn tyrant, no mercy was +shown to his unhappy followers after he was slain in battle. The Duke of York, +who was particularly fond of the Boot and derived great pleasure from having it +applied, offered their lives to some of these people, if they would cry on the +scaffold ‘God save the King!’ But their relations, friends, and +countrymen, had been so barbarously tortured and murdered in this merry reign, +that they preferred to die, and did die. The Duke then obtained his merry +brother’s permission to hold a Parliament in Scotland, which first, with +most shameless deceit, confirmed the laws for securing the Protestant religion +against Popery, and then declared that nothing must or should prevent the +succession of the Popish Duke. After this double-faced beginning, it +established an oath which no human being could understand, but which everybody +was to take, as a proof that his religion was the lawful religion. The Earl of +Argyle, taking it with the explanation that he did not consider it to prevent +him from favouring any alteration either in the Church or State which was not +inconsistent with the Protestant religion or with his loyalty, was tried for +high treason before a Scottish jury of which the <span class="smcap">Marquis of +Montrose</span> was foreman, and was found guilty. He escaped the scaffold, for +that time, by getting away, in the disguise of a page, in the train of his +daughter, <span class="smcap">Lady Sophia Lindsay</span>. It was absolutely +proposed, by certain members of the Scottish Council, that this lady should be +whipped through the streets of Edinburgh. But this was too much even for the +Duke, who had the manliness then (he had very little at most times) to remark +that Englishmen were not accustomed to treat ladies in that manner. In those +merry times nothing could equal the brutal servility of the Scottish fawners, +but the conduct of similar degraded beings in England. +</p> + +<p> +After the settlement of these little affairs, the Duke returned to England, and +soon resumed his place at the Council, and his office of High Admiral—all +this by his brother’s favour, and in open defiance of the law. It would +have been no loss to the country, if he had been drowned when his ship, in +going to Scotland to fetch his family, struck on a sand-bank, and was lost with +two hundred souls on board. But he escaped in a boat with some friends; and the +sailors were so brave and unselfish, that, when they saw him rowing away, they +gave three cheers, while they themselves were going down for ever. +</p> + +<p> +The Merry Monarch, having got rid of his Parliament, went to work to make +himself despotic, with all speed. Having had the villainy to order the +execution of <span class="smcap">Oliver Plunket</span>, <span +class="smcap">Bishop of Armagh</span>, falsely accused of a plot to establish +Popery in that country by means of a French army—the very thing this +royal traitor was himself trying to do at home—and having tried to ruin +Lord Shaftesbury, and failed—he turned his hand to controlling the +corporations all over the country; because, if he could only do that, he could +get what juries he chose, to bring in perjured verdicts, and could get what +members he chose returned to Parliament. These merry times produced, and made +Chief Justice of the Court of King’s Bench, a drunken ruffian of the name +of <span class="smcap">Jeffreys</span>; a red-faced, swollen, bloated, horrible +creature, with a bullying, roaring voice, and a more savage nature perhaps than +was ever lodged in any human breast. This monster was the Merry Monarch’s +especial favourite, and he testified his admiration of him by giving him a ring +from his own finger, which the people used to call Judge Jeffreys’s +Bloodstone. Him the King employed to go about and bully the corporations, +beginning with London; or, as Jeffreys himself elegantly called it, ‘to +give them a lick with the rough side of his tongue.’ And he did it so +thoroughly, that they soon became the basest and most sycophantic bodies in the +kingdom—except the University of Oxford, which, in that respect, was +quite pre-eminent and unapproachable. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Shaftesbury (who died soon after the King’s failure against him), +<span class="smcap">Lord William Russell</span>, the Duke of Monmouth, <span +class="smcap">Lord Howard</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Jersey</span>, <span +class="smcap">Algernon Sidney</span>, <span class="smcap">John Hampden</span> +(grandson of the great Hampden), and some others, used to hold a council +together after the dissolution of the Parliament, arranging what it might be +necessary to do, if the King carried his Popish plot to the utmost height. Lord +Shaftesbury having been much the most violent of this party, brought two +violent men into their secrets—<span class="smcap">Rumsey</span>, who had +been a soldier in the Republican army; and <span class="smcap">West</span>, a +lawyer. These two knew an old officer of <span +class="smcap">Cromwell’s</span>, called <span +class="smcap">Rumbold</span>, who had married a maltster’s widow, and so +had come into possession of a solitary dwelling called the Rye House, near +Hoddesdon, in Hertfordshire. Rumbold said to them what a capital place this +house of his would be from which to shoot at the King, who often passed there +going to and fro from Newmarket. They liked the idea, and entertained it. But, +one of their body gave information; and they, together with <span +class="smcap">Shepherd</span> a wine merchant, Lord Russell, Algernon Sidney, +<span class="smcap">Lord Essex</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Howard</span>, +and Hampden, were all arrested. +</p> + +<p> +Lord Russell might have easily escaped, but scorned to do so, being innocent of +any wrong; Lord Essex might have easily escaped, but scorned to do so, lest his +flight should prejudice Lord Russell. But it weighed upon his mind that he had +brought into their council, Lord Howard—who now turned a miserable +traitor—against a great dislike Lord Russell had always had of him. He +could not bear the reflection, and destroyed himself before Lord Russell was +brought to trial at the Old Bailey. +</p> + +<p> +He knew very well that he had nothing to hope, having always been manful in the +Protestant cause against the two false brothers, the one on the throne, and the +other standing next to it. He had a wife, one of the noblest and best of women, +who acted as his secretary on his trial, who comforted him in his prison, who +supped with him on the night before he died, and whose love and virtue and +devotion have made her name imperishable. Of course, he was found guilty, and +was sentenced to be beheaded in Lincoln’s Inn-fields, not many yards from +his own house. When he had parted from his children on the evening before his +death, his wife still stayed with him until ten o’clock at night; and +when their final separation in this world was over, and he had kissed her many +times, he still sat for a long while in his prison, talking of her goodness. +Hearing the rain fall fast at that time, he calmly said, ‘Such a rain +to-morrow will spoil a great show, which is a dull thing on a rainy day.’ +At midnight he went to bed, and slept till four; even when his servant called +him, he fell asleep again while his clothes were being made ready. He rode to +the scaffold in his own carriage, attended by two famous clergymen, <span +class="smcap">Tillotson</span> and <span class="smcap">Burnet</span>, and sang +a psalm to himself very softly, as he went along. He was as quiet and as steady +as if he had been going out for an ordinary ride. After saying that he was +surprised to see so great a crowd, he laid down his head upon the block, as if +upon the pillow of his bed, and had it struck off at the second blow. His noble +wife was busy for him even then; for that true-hearted lady printed and widely +circulated his last words, of which he had given her a copy. They made the +blood of all the honest men in England boil. +</p> + +<p> +The University of Oxford distinguished itself on the very same day by +pretending to believe that the accusation against Lord Russell was true, and by +calling the King, in a written paper, the Breath of their Nostrils and the +Anointed of the Lord. This paper the Parliament afterwards caused to be burned +by the common hangman; which I am sorry for, as I wish it had been framed and +glazed and hung up in some public place, as a monument of baseness for the +scorn of mankind. +</p> + +<p> +Next, came the trial of Algernon Sidney, at which Jeffreys presided, like a +great crimson toad, sweltering and swelling with rage. ‘I pray God, Mr. +Sidney,’ said this Chief Justice of a merry reign, after passing +sentence, ‘to work in you a temper fit to go to the other world, for I +see you are not fit for this.’ ‘My lord,’ said the prisoner, +composedly holding out his arm, ‘feel my pulse, and see if I be +disordered. I thank Heaven I never was in better temper than I am now.’ +Algernon Sidney was executed on Tower Hill, on the seventh of December, one +thousand six hundred and eighty-three. He died a hero, and died, in his own +words, ‘For that good old cause in which he had been engaged from his +youth, and for which God had so often and so wonderfully declared +himself.’ +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Monmouth had been making his uncle, the Duke of York, very jealous, +by going about the country in a royal sort of way, playing at the +people’s games, becoming godfather to their children, and even touching +for the King’s evil, or stroking the faces of the sick to cure +them—though, for the matter of that, I should say he did them about as +much good as any crowned king could have done. His father had got him to write +a letter, confessing his having had a part in the conspiracy, for which Lord +Russell had been beheaded; but he was ever a weak man, and as soon as he had +written it, he was ashamed of it and got it back again. For this, he was +banished to the Netherlands; but he soon returned and had an interview with his +father, unknown to his uncle. It would seem that he was coming into the Merry +Monarch’s favour again, and that the Duke of York was sliding out of it, +when Death appeared to the merry galleries at Whitehall, and astonished the +debauched lords and gentlemen, and the shameless ladies, very considerably. +</p> + +<p> +On Monday, the second of February, one thousand six hundred and eighty-five, +the merry pensioner and servant of the King of France fell down in a fit of +apoplexy. By the Wednesday his case was hopeless, and on the Thursday he was +told so. As he made a difficulty about taking the sacrament from the Protestant +Bishop of Bath, the Duke of York got all who were present away from the bed, +and asked his brother, in a whisper, if he should send for a Catholic priest? +The King replied, ‘For God’s sake, brother, do!’ The Duke +smuggled in, up the back stairs, disguised in a wig and gown, a priest named +<span class="smcap">Huddleston</span>, who had saved the King’s life +after the battle of Worcester: telling him that this worthy man in the wig had +once saved his body, and was now come to save his soul. +</p> + +<p> +The Merry Monarch lived through that night, and died before noon on the next +day, which was Friday, the sixth. Two of the last things he said were of a +human sort, and your remembrance will give him the full benefit of them. When +the Queen sent to say she was too unwell to attend him and to ask his pardon, +he said, ‘Alas! poor woman, <i>she</i> beg <i>my</i> pardon! I beg hers +with all my heart. Take back that answer to her.’ And he also said, in +reference to Nell Gwyn, ‘Do not let poor Nelly starve.’ +</p> + +<p> +He died in the fifty-fifth year of his age, and the twenty-fifth of his reign. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap36"></a>CHAPTER XXXVI<br/> +ENGLAND UNDER JAMES THE SECOND</h2> + +<p> +King James the Second was a man so very disagreeable, that even the best of +historians has favoured his brother Charles, as becoming, by comparison, quite +a pleasant character. The one object of his short reign was to re-establish the +Catholic religion in England; and this he doggedly pursued with such a stupid +obstinacy, that his career very soon came to a close. +</p> + +<p> +The first thing he did, was, to assure his council that he would make it his +endeavour to preserve the Government, both in Church and State, as it was by +law established; and that he would always take care to defend and support the +Church. Great public acclamations were raised over this fair speech, and a +great deal was said, from the pulpits and elsewhere, about the word of a King +which was never broken, by credulous people who little supposed that he had +formed a secret council for Catholic affairs, of which a mischievous Jesuit, +called <span class="smcap">Father Petre</span>, was one of the chief members. +With tears of joy in his eyes, he received, as the beginning of <i>his</i> +pension from the King of France, five hundred thousand livres; yet, with a +mixture of meanness and arrogance that belonged to his contemptible character, +he was always jealous of making some show of being independent of the King of +France, while he pocketed his money. As—notwithstanding his publishing +two papers in favour of Popery (and not likely to do it much service, I should +think) written by the King, his brother, and found in his strong-box; and his +open display of himself attending mass—the Parliament was very +obsequious, and granted him a large sum of money, he began his reign with a +belief that he could do what he pleased, and with a determination to do it. +</p> + +<p> +Before we proceed to its principal events, let us dispose of Titus Oates. He +was tried for perjury, a fortnight after the coronation, and besides being very +heavily fined, was sentenced to stand twice in the pillory, to be whipped from +Aldgate to Newgate one day, and from Newgate to Tyburn two days afterwards, and +to stand in the pillory five times a year as long as he lived. This fearful +sentence was actually inflicted on the rascal. Being unable to stand after his +first flogging, he was dragged on a sledge from Newgate to Tyburn, and flogged +as he was drawn along. He was so strong a villain that he did not die under the +torture, but lived to be afterwards pardoned and rewarded, though not to be +ever believed in any more. Dangerfield, the only other one of that crew left +alive, was not so fortunate. He was almost killed by a whipping from Newgate to +Tyburn, and, as if that were not punishment enough, a ferocious barrister of +Gray’s Inn gave him a poke in the eye with his cane, which caused his +death; for which the ferocious barrister was deservedly tried and executed. +</p> + +<p> +As soon as James was on the throne, Argyle and Monmouth went from Brussels to +Rotterdam, and attended a meeting of Scottish exiles held there, to concert +measures for a rising in England. It was agreed that Argyle should effect a +landing in Scotland, and Monmouth in England; and that two Englishmen should be +sent with Argyle to be in his confidence, and two Scotchmen with the Duke of +Monmouth. +</p> + +<p> +Argyle was the first to act upon this contract. But, two of his men being taken +prisoners at the Orkney Islands, the Government became aware of his intention, +and was able to act against him with such vigour as to prevent his raising more +than two or three thousand Highlanders, although he sent a fiery cross, by +trusty messengers, from clan to clan and from glen to glen, as the custom then +was when those wild people were to be excited by their chiefs. As he was moving +towards Glasgow with his small force, he was betrayed by some of his followers, +taken, and carried, with his hands tied behind his back, to his old prison in +Edinburgh Castle. James ordered him to be executed, on his old shamefully +unjust sentence, within three days; and he appears to have been anxious that +his legs should have been pounded with his old favourite the boot. However, the +boot was not applied; he was simply beheaded, and his head was set upon the top +of Edinburgh Jail. One of those Englishmen who had been assigned to him was +that old soldier Rumbold, the master of the Rye House. He was sorely wounded, +and within a week after Argyle had suffered with great courage, was brought up +for trial, lest he should die and disappoint the King. He, too, was executed, +after defending himself with great spirit, and saying that he did not believe +that God had made the greater part of mankind to carry saddles on their backs +and bridles in their mouths, and to be ridden by a few, booted and spurred for +the purpose—in which I thoroughly agree with Rumbold. +</p> + +<p> +The Duke of Monmouth, partly through being detained and partly through idling +his time away, was five or six weeks behind his friend when he landed at Lyme, +in Dorset: having at his right hand an unlucky nobleman called <span +class="smcap">Lord Grey of Werk</span>, who of himself would have ruined a far +more promising expedition. He immediately set up his standard in the +market-place, and proclaimed the King a tyrant, and a Popish usurper, and I +know not what else; charging him, not only with what he had done, which was bad +enough, but with what neither he nor anybody else had done, such as setting +fire to London, and poisoning the late King. Raising some four thousand men by +these means, he marched on to Taunton, where there were many Protestant +dissenters who were strongly opposed to the Catholics. Here, both the rich and +poor turned out to receive him, ladies waved a welcome to him from all the +windows as he passed along the streets, flowers were strewn in his way, and +every compliment and honour that could be devised was showered upon him. Among +the rest, twenty young ladies came forward, in their best clothes, and in their +brightest beauty, and gave him a Bible ornamented with their own fair hands, +together with other presents. +</p> + +<p> +Encouraged by this homage, he proclaimed himself King, and went on to +Bridgewater. But, here the Government troops, under the <span +class="smcap">Earl of Feversham</span>, were close at hand; and he was so +dispirited at finding that he made but few powerful friends after all, that it +was a question whether he should disband his army and endeavour to escape. It +was resolved, at the instance of that unlucky Lord Grey, to make a night attack +on the King’s army, as it lay encamped on the edge of a morass called +Sedgemoor. The horsemen were commanded by the same unlucky lord, who was not a +brave man. He gave up the battle almost at the first obstacle—which was a +deep drain; and although the poor countrymen, who had turned out for Monmouth, +fought bravely with scythes, poles, pitchforks, and such poor weapons as they +had, they were soon dispersed by the trained soldiers, and fled in all +directions. When the Duke of Monmouth himself fled, was not known in the +confusion; but the unlucky Lord Grey was taken early next day, and then another +of the party was taken, who confessed that he had parted from the Duke only +four hours before. Strict search being made, he was found disguised as a +peasant, hidden in a ditch under fern and nettles, with a few peas in his +pocket which he had gathered in the fields to eat. The only other articles he +had upon him were a few papers and little books: one of the latter being a +strange jumble, in his own writing, of charms, songs, recipes, and prayers. He +was completely broken. He wrote a miserable letter to the King, beseeching and +entreating to be allowed to see him. When he was taken to London, and conveyed +bound into the King’s presence, he crawled to him on his knees, and made +a most degrading exhibition. As James never forgave or relented towards +anybody, he was not likely to soften towards the issuer of the Lyme +proclamation, so he told the suppliant to prepare for death. +</p> + +<p> +On the fifteenth of July, one thousand six hundred and eighty-five, this +unfortunate favourite of the people was brought out to die on Tower Hill. The +crowd was immense, and the tops of all the houses were covered with gazers. He +had seen his wife, the daughter of the Duke of Buccleuch, in the Tower, and had +talked much of a lady whom he loved far better—the <span +class="smcap">Lady Harriet Wentworth</span>—who was one of the last +persons he remembered in this life. Before laying down his head upon the block +he felt the edge of the axe, and told the executioner that he feared it was not +sharp enough, and that the axe was not heavy enough. On the executioner +replying that it was of the proper kind, the Duke said, ‘I pray you have +a care, and do not use me so awkwardly as you used my Lord Russell.’ The +executioner, made nervous by this, and trembling, struck once and merely gashed +him in the neck. Upon this, the Duke of Monmouth raised his head and looked the +man reproachfully in the face. Then he struck twice, and then thrice, and then +threw down the axe, and cried out in a voice of horror that he could not finish +that work. The sheriffs, however, threatening him with what should be done to +himself if he did not, he took it up again and struck a fourth time and a fifth +time. Then the wretched head at last fell off, and James, Duke of Monmouth, was +dead, in the thirty-sixth year of his age. He was a showy, graceful man, with +many popular qualities, and had found much favour in the open hearts of the +English. +</p> + +<p> +The atrocities, committed by the Government, which followed this Monmouth +rebellion, form the blackest and most lamentable page in English history. The +poor peasants, having been dispersed with great loss, and their leaders having +been taken, one would think that the implacable King might have been satisfied. +But no; he let loose upon them, among other intolerable monsters, a <span +class="smcap">Colonel Kirk</span>, who had served against the Moors, and whose +soldiers—called by the people Kirk’s lambs, because they bore a +lamb upon their flag, as the emblem of Christianity—were worthy of their +leader. The atrocities committed by these demons in human shape are far too +horrible to be related here. It is enough to say, that besides most ruthlessly +murdering and robbing them, and ruining them by making them buy their pardons +at the price of all they possessed, it was one of Kirk’s favourite +amusements, as he and his officers sat drinking after dinner, and toasting the +King, to have batches of prisoners hanged outside the windows for the +company’s diversion; and that when their feet quivered in the convulsions +of death, he used to swear that they should have music to their dancing, and +would order the drums to beat and the trumpets to play. The detestable King +informed him, as an acknowledgment of these services, that he was ‘very +well satisfied with his proceedings.’ But the King’s great delight +was in the proceedings of Jeffreys, now a peer, who went down into the west, +with four other judges, to try persons accused of having had any share in the +rebellion. The King pleasantly called this ‘Jeffreys’s +campaign.’ The people down in that part of the country remember it to +this day as The Bloody Assize. +</p> + +<p> +It began at Winchester, where a poor deaf old lady, <span class="smcap">Mrs. +Alicia Lisle</span>, the widow of one of the judges of Charles the First (who +had been murdered abroad by some Royalist assassins), was charged with having +given shelter in her house to two fugitives from Sedgemoor. Three times the +jury refused to find her guilty, until Jeffreys bullied and frightened them +into that false verdict. When he had extorted it from them, he said, +‘Gentlemen, if I had been one of you, and she had been my own mother, I +would have found her guilty;’—as I dare say he would. He sentenced +her to be burned alive, that very afternoon. The clergy of the cathedral and +some others interfered in her favour, and she was beheaded within a week. As a +high mark of his approbation, the King made Jeffreys Lord Chancellor; and he +then went on to Dorchester, to Exeter, to Taunton, and to Wells. It is +astonishing, when we read of the enormous injustice and barbarity of this +beast, to know that no one struck him dead on the judgment-seat. It was enough +for any man or woman to be accused by an enemy, before Jeffreys, to be found +guilty of high treason. One man who pleaded not guilty, he ordered to be taken +out of court upon the instant, and hanged; and this so terrified the prisoners +in general that they mostly pleaded guilty at once. At Dorchester alone, in the +course of a few days, Jeffreys hanged eighty people; besides whipping, +transporting, imprisoning, and selling as slaves, great numbers. He executed, +in all, two hundred and fifty, or three hundred. +</p> + +<p> +These executions took place, among the neighbours and friends of the sentenced, +in thirty-six towns and villages. Their bodies were mangled, steeped in +caldrons of boiling pitch and tar, and hung up by the roadsides, in the +streets, over the very churches. The sight and smell of heads and limbs, the +hissing and bubbling of the infernal caldrons, and the tears and terrors of the +people, were dreadful beyond all description. One rustic, who was forced to +steep the remains in the black pot, was ever afterwards called ‘Tom +Boilman.’ The hangman has ever since been called Jack Ketch, because a +man of that name went hanging and hanging, all day long, in the train of +Jeffreys. You will hear much of the horrors of the great French Revolution. +Many and terrible they were, there is no doubt; but I know of nothing worse, +done by the maddened people of France in that awful time, than was done by the +highest judge in England, with the express approval of the King of England, in +The Bloody Assize. +</p> + +<p> +Nor was even this all. Jeffreys was as fond of money for himself as of misery +for others, and he sold pardons wholesale to fill his pockets. The King +ordered, at one time, a thousand prisoners to be given to certain of his +favourites, in order that they might bargain with them for their pardons. The +young ladies of Taunton who had presented the Bible, were bestowed upon the +maids of honour at court; and those precious ladies made very hard bargains +with them indeed. When The Bloody Assize was at its most dismal height, the +King was diverting himself with horse-races in the very place where Mrs. Lisle +had been executed. When Jeffreys had done his worst, and came home again, he +was particularly complimented in the Royal Gazette; and when the King heard +that through drunkenness and raging he was very ill, his odious Majesty +remarked that such another man could not easily be found in England. Besides +all this, a former sheriff of London, named <span class="smcap">Cornish</span>, +was hanged within sight of his own house, after an abominably conducted trial, +for having had a share in the Rye House Plot, on evidence given by Rumsey, +which that villain was obliged to confess was directly opposed to the evidence +he had given on the trial of Lord Russell. And on the very same day, a worthy +widow, named <span class="smcap">Elizabeth Gaunt</span>, was burned alive at +Tyburn, for having sheltered a wretch who himself gave evidence against her. +She settled the fuel about herself with her own hands, so that the flames +should reach her quickly: and nobly said, with her last breath, that she had +obeyed the sacred command of God, to give refuge to the outcast, and not to +betray the wanderer. +</p> + +<p> +After all this hanging, beheading, burning, boiling, mutilating, exposing, +robbing, transporting, and selling into slavery, of his unhappy subjects, the +King not unnaturally thought that he could do whatever he would. So, he went to +work to change the religion of the country with all possible speed; and what he +did was this. +</p> + +<p> +He first of all tried to get rid of what was called the Test Act—which +prevented the Catholics from holding public employments—by his own power +of dispensing with the penalties. He tried it in one case, and, eleven of the +twelve judges deciding in his favour, he exercised it in three others, being +those of three dignitaries of University College, Oxford, who had become +Papists, and whom he kept in their places and sanctioned. He revived the hated +Ecclesiastical Commission, to get rid of <span class="smcap">Compton</span>, +Bishop of London, who manfully opposed him. He solicited the Pope to favour +England with an ambassador, which the Pope (who was a sensible man then) rather +unwillingly did. He flourished Father Petre before the eyes of the people on +all possible occasions. He favoured the establishment of convents in several +parts of London. He was delighted to have the streets, and even the court +itself, filled with Monks and Friars in the habits of their orders. He +constantly endeavoured to make Catholics of the Protestants about him. He held +private interviews, which he called ‘closetings,’ with those +Members of Parliament who held offices, to persuade them to consent to the +design he had in view. When they did not consent, they were removed, or +resigned of themselves, and their places were given to Catholics. He displaced +Protestant officers from the army, by every means in his power, and got +Catholics into their places too. He tried the same thing with the corporations, +and also (though not so successfully) with the Lord Lieutenants of counties. To +terrify the people into the endurance of all these measures, he kept an army of +fifteen thousand men encamped on Hounslow Heath, where mass was openly +performed in the General’s tent, and where priests went among the +soldiers endeavouring to persuade them to become Catholics. For circulating a +paper among those men advising them to be true to their religion, a Protestant +clergyman, named <span class="smcap">Johnson</span>, the chaplain of the late +Lord Russell, was actually sentenced to stand three times in the pillory, and +was actually whipped from Newgate to Tyburn. He dismissed his own +brother-in-law from his Council because he was a Protestant, and made a Privy +Councillor of the before-mentioned Father Petre. He handed Ireland over to +<span class="smcap">Richard Talbot</span>, <span class="smcap">Earl of +Tyrconnell</span>, a worthless, dissolute knave, who played the same game there +for his master, and who played the deeper game for himself of one day putting +it under the protection of the French King. In going to these extremities, +every man of sense and judgment among the Catholics, from the Pope to a porter, +knew that the King was a mere bigoted fool, who would undo himself and the +cause he sought to advance; but he was deaf to all reason, and, happily for +England ever afterwards, went tumbling off his throne in his own blind way. +</p> + +<p> +A spirit began to arise in the country, which the besotted blunderer little +expected. He first found it out in the University of Cambridge. Having made a +Catholic a dean at Oxford without any opposition, he tried to make a monk a +master of arts at Cambridge: which attempt the University resisted, and +defeated him. He then went back to his favourite Oxford. On the death of the +President of Magdalen College, he commanded that there should be elected to +succeed him, one <span class="smcap">Mr. Anthony Farmer</span>, whose only +recommendation was, that he was of the King’s religion. The University +plucked up courage at last, and refused. The King substituted another man, and +it still refused, resolving to stand by its own election of a <span +class="smcap">Mr. Hough</span>. The dull tyrant, upon this, punished Mr. Hough, +and five-and-twenty more, by causing them to be expelled and declared incapable +of holding any church preferment; then he proceeded to what he supposed to be +his highest step, but to what was, in fact, his last plunge head-foremost in +his tumble off his throne. +</p> + +<p> +He had issued a declaration that there should be no religious tests or penal +laws, in order to let in the Catholics more easily; but the Protestant +dissenters, unmindful of themselves, had gallantly joined the regular church in +opposing it tooth and nail. The King and Father Petre now resolved to have this +read, on a certain Sunday, in all the churches, and to order it to be +circulated for that purpose by the bishops. The latter took counsel with the +Archbishop of Canterbury, who was in disgrace; and they resolved that the +declaration should not be read, and that they would petition the King against +it. The Archbishop himself wrote out the petition, and six bishops went into +the King’s bedchamber the same night to present it, to his infinite +astonishment. Next day was the Sunday fixed for the reading, and it was only +read by two hundred clergymen out of ten thousand. The King resolved against +all advice to prosecute the bishops in the Court of King’s Bench, and +within three weeks they were summoned before the Privy Council, and committed +to the Tower. As the six bishops were taken to that dismal place, by water, the +people who were assembled in immense numbers fell upon their knees, and wept +for them, and prayed for them. When they got to the Tower, the officers and +soldiers on guard besought them for their blessing. While they were confined +there, the soldiers every day drank to their release with loud shouts. When +they were brought up to the Court of King’s Bench for their trial, which +the Attorney-General said was for the high offence of censuring the Government, +and giving their opinion about affairs of state, they were attended by similar +multitudes, and surrounded by a throng of noblemen and gentlemen. When the jury +went out at seven o’clock at night to consider of their verdict, +everybody (except the King) knew that they would rather starve than yield to +the King’s brewer, who was one of them, and wanted a verdict for his +customer. When they came into court next morning, after resisting the brewer +all night, and gave a verdict of not guilty, such a shout rose up in +Westminster Hall as it had never heard before; and it was passed on among the +people away to Temple Bar, and away again to the Tower. It did not pass only to +the east, but passed to the west too, until it reached the camp at Hounslow, +where the fifteen thousand soldiers took it up and echoed it. And still, when +the dull King, who was then with Lord Feversham, heard the mighty roar, asked +in alarm what it was, and was told that it was ‘nothing but the acquittal +of the bishops,’ he said, in his dogged way, ‘Call you that +nothing? It is so much the worse for them.’ +</p> + +<p> +Between the petition and the trial, the Queen had given birth to a son, which +Father Petre rather thought was owing to Saint Winifred. But I doubt if Saint +Winifred had much to do with it as the King’s friend, inasmuch as the +entirely new prospect of a Catholic successor (for both the King’s +daughters were Protestants) determined the <span class="smcap">Earls of +Shrewsbury</span>, <span class="smcap">Danby</span>, and <span +class="smcap">Devonshire</span>, <span class="smcap">Lord Lumley</span>, the +<span class="smcap">Bishop of London</span>, <span class="smcap">Admiral +Russell</span>, and <span class="smcap">Colonel Sidney</span>, to invite the +Prince of Orange over to England. The Royal Mole, seeing his danger at last, +made, in his fright, many great concessions, besides raising an army of forty +thousand men; but the Prince of Orange was not a man for James the Second to +cope with. His preparations were extraordinarily vigorous, and his mind was +resolved. +</p> + +<p> +For a fortnight after the Prince was ready to sail for England, a great wind +from the west prevented the departure of his fleet. Even when the wind lulled, +and it did sail, it was dispersed by a storm, and was obliged to put back to +refit. At last, on the first of November, one thousand six hundred and +eighty-eight, the Protestant east wind, as it was long called, began to blow; +and on the third, the people of Dover and the people of Calais saw a fleet +twenty miles long sailing gallantly by, between the two places. On Monday, the +fifth, it anchored at Torbay in Devonshire, and the Prince, with a splendid +retinue of officers and men, marched into Exeter. But the people in that +western part of the country had suffered so much in The Bloody Assize, that +they had lost heart. Few people joined him; and he began to think of returning, +and publishing the invitation he had received from those lords, as his +justification for having come at all. At this crisis, some of the gentry joined +him; the Royal army began to falter; an engagement was signed, by which all who +set their hand to it declared that they would support one another in defence of +the laws and liberties of the three Kingdoms, of the Protestant religion, and +of the Prince of Orange. From that time, the cause received no check; the +greatest towns in England began, one after another, to declare for the Prince; +and he knew that it was all safe with him when the University of Oxford offered +to melt down its plate, if he wanted any money. +</p> + +<p> +By this time the King was running about in a pitiable way, touching people for +the King’s evil in one place, reviewing his troops in another, and +bleeding from the nose in a third. The young Prince was sent to Portsmouth, +Father Petre went off like a shot to France, and there was a general and swift +dispersal of all the priests and friars. One after another, the King’s +most important officers and friends deserted him and went over to the Prince. +In the night, his daughter Anne fled from Whitehall Palace; and the Bishop of +London, who had once been a soldier, rode before her with a drawn sword in his +hand, and pistols at his saddle. ‘God help me,’ cried the miserable +King: ‘my very children have forsaken me!’ In his wildness, after +debating with such lords as were in London, whether he should or should not +call a Parliament, and after naming three of them to negotiate with the Prince, +he resolved to fly to France. He had the little Prince of Wales brought back +from Portsmouth; and the child and the Queen crossed the river to Lambeth in an +open boat, on a miserable wet night, and got safely away. This was on the night +of the ninth of December. +</p> + +<p> +At one o’clock on the morning of the eleventh, the King, who had, in the +meantime, received a letter from the Prince of Orange, stating his objects, got +out of bed, told <span class="smcap">Lord Northumberland</span> who lay in his +room not to open the door until the usual hour in the morning, and went down +the back stairs (the same, I suppose, by which the priest in the wig and gown +had come up to his brother) and crossed the river in a small boat: sinking the +great seal of England by the way. Horses having been provided, he rode, +accompanied by <span class="smcap">Sir Edward Hales</span>, to Feversham, where +he embarked in a Custom House Hoy. The master of this Hoy, wanting more +ballast, ran into the Isle of Sheppy to get it, where the fishermen and +smugglers crowded about the boat, and informed the King of their suspicions +that he was a ‘hatchet-faced Jesuit.’ As they took his money and +would not let him go, he told them who he was, and that the Prince of Orange +wanted to take his life; and he began to scream for a boat—and then to +cry, because he had lost a piece of wood on his ride which he called a fragment +of Our Saviour’s cross. He put himself into the hands of the Lord +Lieutenant of the county, and his detention was made known to the Prince of +Orange at Windsor—who, only wanting to get rid of him, and not caring +where he went, so that he went away, was very much disconcerted that they did +not let him go. However, there was nothing for it but to have him brought back, +with some state in the way of Life Guards, to Whitehall. And as soon as he got +there, in his infatuation, he heard mass, and set a Jesuit to say grace at his +public dinner. +</p> + +<p> +The people had been thrown into the strangest state of confusion by his flight, +and had taken it into their heads that the Irish part of the army were going to +murder the Protestants. Therefore, they set the bells a ringing, and lighted +watch-fires, and burned Catholic Chapels, and looked about in all directions +for Father Petre and the Jesuits, while the Pope’s ambassador was running +away in the dress of a footman. They found no Jesuits; but a man, who had once +been a frightened witness before Jeffreys in court, saw a swollen, drunken face +looking through a window down at Wapping, which he well remembered. The face +was in a sailor’s dress, but he knew it to be the face of that accursed +judge, and he seized him. The people, to their lasting honour, did not tear him +to pieces. After knocking him about a little, they took him, in the basest +agonies of terror, to the Lord Mayor, who sent him, at his own shrieking +petition, to the Tower for safety. There, he died. +</p> + +<p> +Their bewilderment continuing, the people now lighted bonfires and made +rejoicings, as if they had any reason to be glad to have the King back again. +But, his stay was very short, for the English guards were removed from +Whitehall, Dutch guards were marched up to it, and he was told by one of his +late ministers that the Prince would enter London, next day, and he had better +go to Ham. He said, Ham was a cold, damp place, and he would rather go to +Rochester. He thought himself very cunning in this, as he meant to escape from +Rochester to France. The Prince of Orange and his friends knew that, perfectly +well, and desired nothing more. So, he went to Gravesend, in his royal barge, +attended by certain lords, and watched by Dutch troops, and pitied by the +generous people, who were far more forgiving than he had ever been, when they +saw him in his humiliation. On the night of the twenty-third of December, not +even then understanding that everybody wanted to get rid of him, he went out, +absurdly, through his Rochester garden, down to the Medway, and got away to +France, where he rejoined the Queen. +</p> + +<p> +There had been a council in his absence, of the lords, and the authorities of +London. When the Prince came, on the day after the King’s departure, he +summoned the Lords to meet him, and soon afterwards, all those who had served +in any of the Parliaments of King Charles the Second. It was finally resolved +by these authorities that the throne was vacant by the conduct of King James +the Second; that it was inconsistent with the safety and welfare of this +Protestant kingdom, to be governed by a Popish prince; that the Prince and +Princess of Orange should be King and Queen during their lives and the life of +the survivor of them; and that their children should succeed them, if they had +any. That if they had none, the Princess Anne and her children should succeed; +that if she had none, the heirs of the Prince of Orange should succeed. +</p> + +<p> +On the thirteenth of January, one thousand six hundred and eighty-nine, the +Prince and Princess, sitting on a throne in Whitehall, bound themselves to +these conditions. The Protestant religion was established in England, and +England’s great and glorious Revolution was complete. +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<h2><a name="chap37"></a>CHAPTER XXXVII</h2> + +<p> +I have now arrived at the close of my little history. The events which +succeeded the famous Revolution of one thousand six hundred and eighty-eight, +would neither be easily related nor easily understood in such a book as this. +</p> + +<p> +William and Mary reigned together, five years. After the death of his good +wife, William occupied the throne, alone, for seven years longer. During his +reign, on the sixteenth of September, one thousand seven hundred and one, the +poor weak creature who had once been James the Second of England, died in +France. In the meantime he had done his utmost (which was not much) to cause +William to be assassinated, and to regain his lost dominions. James’s son +was declared, by the French King, the rightful King of England; and was called +in France <span class="smcap">The Chevalier Saint George</span>, and in England +<span class="smcap">The Pretender</span>. Some infatuated people in England, +and particularly in Scotland, took up the Pretender’s cause from time to +time—as if the country had not had Stuarts enough!—and many lives +were sacrificed, and much misery was occasioned. King William died on Sunday, +the seventh of March, one thousand seven hundred and two, of the consequences +of an accident occasioned by his horse stumbling with him. He was always a +brave, patriotic Prince, and a man of remarkable abilities. His manner was +cold, and he made but few friends; but he had truly loved his queen. When he +was dead, a lock of her hair, in a ring, was found tied with a black ribbon +round his left arm. +</p> + +<p> +He was succeeded by the <span class="smcap">Princess Anne</span>, a popular +Queen, who reigned twelve years. In her reign, in the month of May, one +thousand seven hundred and seven, the Union between England and Scotland was +effected, and the two countries were incorporated under the name of <span +class="smcap">Great Britain</span>. Then, from the year one thousand seven +hundred and fourteen to the year one thousand, eight hundred and thirty, +reigned the four <span class="smcap">Georges</span>. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the reign of George the Second, one thousand seven hundred and +forty-five, that the Pretender did his last mischief, and made his last +appearance. Being an old man by that time, he and the Jacobites—as his +friends were called—put forward his son, <span class="smcap">Charles +Edward</span>, known as the young Chevalier. The Highlanders of Scotland, an +extremely troublesome and wrong-headed race on the subject of the Stuarts, +espoused his cause, and he joined them, and there was a Scottish rebellion to +make him king, in which many gallant and devoted gentlemen lost their lives. It +was a hard matter for Charles Edward to escape abroad again, with a high price +on his head; but the Scottish people were extraordinarily faithful to him, and, +after undergoing many romantic adventures, not unlike those of Charles the +Second, he escaped to France. A number of charming stories and delightful songs +arose out of the Jacobite feelings, and belong to the Jacobite times. Otherwise +I think the Stuarts were a public nuisance altogether. +</p> + +<p> +It was in the reign of George the Third that England lost North America, by +persisting in taxing her without her own consent. That immense country, made +independent under <span class="smcap">Washington</span>, and left to itself, +became the United States; one of the greatest nations of the earth. In these +times in which I write, it is honourably remarkable for protecting its +subjects, wherever they may travel, with a dignity and a determination which is +a model for England. Between you and me, England has rather lost ground in this +respect since the days of Oliver Cromwell. +</p> + +<p> +The Union of Great Britain with Ireland—which had been getting on very +ill by itself—took place in the reign of George the Third, on the second +of July, one thousand seven hundred and ninety-eight. +</p> + +<p> +<span class="smcap">William the Fourth</span> succeeded George the Fourth, in +the year one thousand eight hundred and thirty, and reigned seven years. <span +class="smcap">Queen Victoria</span>, his niece, the only child of the Duke of +Kent, the fourth son of George the Third, came to the throne on the twentieth +of June, one thousand eight hundred and thirty-seven. She was married to <span +class="smcap">Prince Albert</span> of Saxe Gotha on the tenth of February, one +thousand eight hundred and forty. She is very good, and much beloved. So I end, +like the crier, with +</p> + +<p class="center"> +<span class="smcap">God Save the Queen</span>! +</p> + +</div><!--end chapter--> + +<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A CHILD’S HISTORY OF ENGLAND ***</div> +<div style='text-align:left'> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will +be renamed. +</div> + +<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> +Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright +law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, +so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United +States without permission and without paying copyright +royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part +of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project +Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ +concept and trademark. 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