CAMEOS

FROM

ENGLISH HISTORY

FROM ROLLO TO EDWARD II. 

1873

PREFACE. 

The "Cameos" here put together are intended as a book for young peoplejust beyond the elementary histories of England, and able to enter insome degree into the real spirit of events, and to be struck withcharacters and scenes presented in some relief. 

The endeavor has not been to chronicle facts, but to put together aseries of pictures of persons and events, so as to arrest the attentionand give some individuality and distinctness to the recollection, bygathering together details at the most memorable moments. Begun manyyears since, as the historical portion of a magazine, the earlier onesof these Cameos have been collected and revised to serve for school-roomreading, and it is hoped that, if these are found useful, they may erelong be followed up by a second volume, comprising the wars in France, and those of the Roses. 

_February 28th, 1868. _

CONTENTS. 

INTRODUCTION

CAMEO I. ROLF GANGER (900-932)

CAMEO II. WILLIAM LONGSWORD AND RICHARD THE FEARLESS (932-996)

CAMEO III. YOUTH OF THE CONQUEROR (1026-1066)

CAMEO IV. EARL GODWIN (1012-1052)

CAMEO V. THE TWO HAROLDS (1060-1066)

CAMEO VI. THE NORMAN INVASION (1066)

CAMEO VII. THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS (1066) CONTENTS. 

CAMEO VIII. THE CAMP OF REFUGE (1067-1072)

CAMEO IX. THE LAST SAXON BISHOP (1008-1095)

CAMEO X. THE CONQUEROR (1066-1087)

CAMEO XI. THE CONQUEROR'S CHILDREN (1050-1087)

CAMEO XII. THE CROWN AND THE MITRE (1087-1107)

CAMEO XIII. THE FIRST CRUSADE (1095-1100)

CAMEO XIV. THE ETHELING FAMILY (1010-1159)

CAMEO XV. THE COUNTS OF ANJOU (888-1142)

CAMEO XVI. VISITORS OF HENRY I. (1120-1134)

CAMEO XVII. THE BATTLE OF THE STANDARD (1135-1138)

CAMEO XVIII. THE SNOWS OF OXFORD (1138-1154)

CAMEO XIX. YOUTH OF BECKET (1154-1162)

CAMEO XX. THE CONSTITUTIONS OF CLARENDON (1163-1172)

CAMEO XXI. DEATH OF BECKET (1166-1172)

CAMEO XXII. THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND (1172)

CAMEO XXIII. THE REBELLIOUS EAGLETS (1149-1183)

CAMEO XXIV. THE THIRD CRUSADE (1189-1193)

CAMEO XXV. ARTHUR OF BRITTANY (1187-1206)

CAMEO XXVI. THE INTERDICT (1207-1214)

CAMEO XXVII. MAGNA CHARTA (1214-1217)

CAMEO XXVIII. THE FIEF OP ROME (1217-1254)

CAMEO XXIX. THE LONGESPÉES IN THE EGYPTIAN CRUSADES (1219-1254)

CAMEO XXX. SIMON DE MONTFORT (1232-1266)

CAMEO XXXI. THE LAST OF THE CRUSADERS (1267-1291)

CAMEO XXXII. THE CYMRY (B. C. 66-A. D. 1269)

CAMEO XXXIII. THE ENGLISH JUSTINIAN (1272-1292)

CAMEO XXXIV. THE HAMMER OF THE SCOTS (1292-1305)

CAMEO XXXV. THE EVIL TOLL (1294-1305)

CAMEO XXXVI. ROBERT THE BRUCE (1305-1308)

CAMEO XXXVII. THE VICTIM OP BLACKLOW HILL (1307-1313)

CAMEO XXXVIII. BANNOCKBURN (1307-1313)

CAMEO XXXIX. THE KNIGHTS OF THE TEMPLE (1292-1316)

CAMEO XL. THE BARONS' WARS (1310-1327)

CAMEO XLI. GOOD KING ROBERT'S TESTAMENT (1314-1329)

 CAMEOS

 OF

 THE HISTORY OF ENGLAND

INTRODUCTION. 

Young people learn the history of England by reading small books whichconnect some memorable event that they can understand, and remember, with the name of each king--such as Tyrrell's arrow-shot with WilliamRufus, or the wreck of the White Ship with Henry I. But when they beginto grow a little beyond these stories, it becomes difficult to find ahistory that will give details and enlarge their knowledge, withoutbeing too lengthy. They can hardly be expected to remember or take aninterest in personages or events left, as it were, in the block. It wasthe sense of this want that prompted the writing of the series that herefollows, in which the endeavor has been to take either individualcharacters, or events bearing on our history, and work them out as fullyas materials permitted, so that each, taken by itself, might form anindividual Cameo, or gem in full relief, and thus become impressed uponthe mind. 

The undertaking was first begun sixteen years ago, for a periodical foryoung people. At that time, the view was to make the Cameos hang, as itwere, on the thread furnished by ordinary childish histories, so as toleave out what might be considered as too well-known. However, as thework made progress, this was found to be a mistake; the omissionsprevented the finished parts from fitting together, and the characterswere incomplete, without being shown in action. Thus, in preparing theCameos for separate publication, it has been found better to supply whathad previously been omitted, as well as to try to correct and alter theother Cameos by the light of increasing information. 

None of them lay claim to being put together from original documents;they are only the attempt at collecting, from large and often not easilyaccessible histories, the more interesting or important scenes andfacts, and at arranging them so that they may best impress theimagination and memory of the young, so as to prepare them for fullerand deeper reading. 

Our commencement is with the Dukes of Normandy. The elder England hasbeen so fully written of, and in such an engaging manner foryouthful readers, in the late Sir Francis Palgrave's "History of theAnglo-Saxons, " that it would have been superfluous to expand the veryscanty Cameos of that portion of our history. The present volume, then, includes the history of the Norman race of sovereigns, from Rollo toEdward of Carnarvon, with whose fate we shall pause, hoping in a secondvolume to go through the French wars and the wars of the Roses. Nor havewe excluded the mythical or semi-romantic tales of our early history. Itis as needful to a person of education to be acquainted with them, asif they were certain facts, and we shall content ourselves with markingwhat come to us on doubtful authority. 

 CAMEO I. 

 ROLF GANGER. (900-932. )

 _Kings of England_. 901. Edward the Elder. 924. Athelstan. 

 _Kings of France_. 898. Charles the Simple. 923. Rudolf. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 899. Ludwig IV. 912. Konrad. 

If we try to look back at history nine hundred years, we shall see aworld very unlike that in which we are now moving. Midway from the birthof our Lord to the present era, the great struggle between the new andold had not subsided, and the great European world of civilized nationshad not yet settled into their homes and characters. 

Christianity had been accepted by the Roman Emperor six hundred yearspreviously, but the Empire was by that time too weak and corrupt to berenewed, even by the fresh spirit infused into it; and, from the 4thcentury onward, it had been breaking up under the force of the fiercecurrents of nations that rushed from the north-east of Europe. The Greekhalf of the Empire prolonged its existence in the Levant, but the Latin, or Western portion, became a wreck before the 5th century was faradvanced. However, each conquering tribe that poured into the southerndominions had been already so far impressed with the wisdom and dignityof Rome, and the holiness of her religion, that they paused in theirviolence, and gradually allowed themselves to be taught by her doctrine, tamed by her manners, and governed by her laws. The Patriarch ofRome--_Papa_, or Father--was acknowledged by them, as by the subjects ofRome of old; they accepted the clergy, who had already formed diocesesand parishes, and though much of horrible savagery remained to besubdued in the general mass, yet there was a gradual work ofamelioration in progress. 

This was especially the case with the Franks, who had overspread thenorthern half of Gaul. Their first race of kings had become Christianssimultaneously with their conquest; and though these soon dwindled awaybetween crime and luxury, there had grown up under them a brave andambitious family, whose earlier members were among the mostdistinguished persons in history. 

Charles Martel turned back the Saracens at Tours, and saved Europe fromMahometanism, and his grandson, Charles the Great, rescued the Pope fromthe Lombards, and received from him in return the crown of a new Empireof the West--the Holy Roman Empire, which was supposed to be the greattemporal power. As the Pope, or Patriarch, was deemed the head of allbishops, so the Emperor was to be deemed the head of all kings of theWest, from the Danube and Baltic to the Atlantic Ocean--the wholecountry that had once been held by Rome, and then had been wrested fromher by the various German or Teutonic races. The island of Great Britainwas a sort of exception to the general rule. Like Gaul, it had once beenwholly Keltic, but it had not been as entirely subdued by the Romans, and the overflow of Teutons came very early thither, and while they wereyet so thoroughly Pagan that the old Keltic Church failed to convertthem, and the mission of St. Augustine was necessary from Rome. 

A little later, when Charles the Great formed his empire of Franks, Germans, Saxons, and Gauls, Egbert gathered, in like manner, the variouspetty kingdoms of the Angles and Saxons under the one dominant realm ofWessex, and thus became a sort of island Emperor. 

It seems, however, to be a rule, that nations and families recentlyemerged from barbarism soon fade and decay under the influence of highcivilization; and just as the first race of Frankish kings had witheredaway on the throne, so the line of Charles the Great, though notinactive, became less powerful and judicious, grew feeble in the verynext generation, and were little able to hold together the multitude ofnations that had formed the empire. 

Soon the kingdom of France split away from the Empire; and while a freshand more able Emperor became the head of the West, the descendants ofthe great Charles still struggled on, at their royal cities of Laon andSoissons, with the terrible difficulties brought upon them by restlesssubjects, and by the last and most vigorous swarm of all the Teutonicinvaders. 

The wild rugged hills and coasts of Scandinavia, with their keenclimate, long nights, and many gulfs and bays, had contributed to nursethe Teuton race in a vigor and perfection scarcely found elsewhere--ornot at least since the more southern races had yielded to the enervatinginfluences of their settled life. Some of these had indeed been tamed, but more had been degraded. The English were degenerating intoclownishness, the Franks into effeminacy; and though Christianitycontinually raised up most brilliant lights--now on the throne, nowin the cathedral, now in the cloister--yet the mass of the people laysluggish, dull, inert, selfish, and half savage. 

They were in this state when the Norseman and the Dane fitted out theirlong ships, and burst upon their coasts. By a peculiar law, common onceto all the Teuton nations, though by that time altered in the southernones, the land of a family was not divided among its members, but allpossessed an equal right in it; and thus, as it was seldom adequate tomaintain them all, the more enterprising used their right in it only tofell trees enough to build a ship, and to demand corn enough to victualtheir crew, which was formed of other young men whose family inheritancecould not furnish more than a sword or spear. 

Kings and princes--of whom there were many--were exactly in the sameposition as their subjects, and they too were wont to seek theirfortunes upon the high seas. Fleets coalesced under the command ofsome chieftain of birth or note, and the Vikings, or pirates, sailedfearlessly forth, to plunder the tempting regions to the south of them. 

Fierce worshippers were they of the old gods, Odin, Frey, Thor; of thethird above all others, and their lengthy nights had led to theirworking up those myths that had always been common to the whole raceinto a beauty, poetry, and force, probably not found elsewhere; and thatnerved them both to fight vehemently for an entrance to Valhalla, thehall of heroes, and to revenge the defection of the Christians who hadfallen from Odin. They plundered, they burnt, they slew; they speciallydevastated churches and monasteries, and no coast was safe from themfrom the Adriatic to the furthest north--even Rome saw their long ships, and, "From the fury of the Northmen, good Lord deliver us, " was theprayer in every Litany of the West. 

England had been well-nigh undone by them, when the spirit of hergreatest king awoke, and by Alfred they were overcome: some werepermitted to settle down and were taught Christianity and civilization, and the fresh invaders were driven from the coast. Alfred's gallant sonand grandson held the same course, guarded their coasts, and madetheir faith and themselves respected throughout the North. But inFrance, the much-harassed house of Charles the Great, and theill-compacted bond of different nations, were little able to opposetheir fierce assaults, and ravage and devastation reigned from one endof the country to another. 

However, the Vikings, on returning to their native homes, sometimesfound their place filled up, and the family inheritance incapable ofsupporting so many. Thus they began to think of winning not merely goldand cattle, but lands and houses, on the coasts that they had pillaged. In Scotland, the Hebrides, and Ireland, they settled by leave of nothingbut their swords; in England, by treaty with Alfred; and in France, halfby conquest, half by treaty, always, however, accepting Christianity asa needful obligation when they accepted southern lands. Probably theythought that Thor was only the god of the North, and that the "WhiteChrist, " as they called Him who was made known to them in these newcountries, was to be adored in what they deemed alone His territories. 

Of all the sea-robbers who sailed from their rocky dwelling-places bythe fiords of Norway, none enjoyed higher renown than Rolf, called theganger, or walker, as tradition relates, because his stature was sogigantic that, when clad in full armor, no horse could support hisweight, and he therefore always fought on foot. 

Rolf's lot had, however, fallen in what he doubtless considered as evildays. No such burnings and plunderings as had hitherto wasted England, and enriched Norway, fell to his share; for Alfred had made the bravestNorthman feel that his fleet and army were more than a match for theirs. Ireland was exhausted by the former depredations of the pirates, and, from a fertile and flourishing country, had become a scene ofdesolation; Scotland and its isles were too barren to afford prey tothe spoiler; and worse than all, the King of Norway, Harald Harfagre, desirous of being included among the civilized sovereigns of Europe, strictly forbade his subjects to exercise their old trade of piracy onhis own coasts, or on those of his allies. Rolf, perhaps, consideredhimself above this new law. His father, Earl Rognwald, as the chieffriend of the King, had been chosen to cut and comb the hair whichHarald had kept for ten years untrimmed, in fulfilment of a vow, thathis locks should never be clipped until the whole of Norway was underhis dominion. He had also been invested with the government of the greatEarldom of Möre, where the sons of Harald, jealous of the favor withwhich he was regarded by their father, burnt him and sixty of his men, in his own house. The vengeance taken by his sons had been signal, andthe King had replaced Thorer the Silent, one of their number, in hisfather's earldom. 

Rolf, presuming on the favor shown to his family, while returning froman expedition on the Baltic, made a descent on the coast of Viken, apart of Norway, and carried off the cattle wanted by his crew. The King, who happened at that time to be in that district, was highly displeased, and, assembling a council, declared Rolf Ganger an outlaw. His mother, Hilda, a dame of high lineage, in vain interceded for him, and closedher entreaty with a warning in the wild extemporary poetry of the North:

 "Bethink thee, monarch, it is ill With such a wolf, at wolf to play, Who, driven to the wild woods away, May make the king's best deer his prey. "

Harald listened not, and it was well; for through the marvellousdealings of Providence, the outlawry of this "wolf" of Norway led to theestablishment of our royal line, and to that infusion of new spirit intoEngland to which her greatness appears to be chiefly owing. 

The banished Rolf found a great number of companions, who, like himself, were unwilling to submit to the strict rule of Harald Harfagre, andsetting sail with them, he first plundered and devastated the coast ofFlanders, and afterward turned toward France. In the spring of 896, thecitizens of Rouen, scarcely yet recovered from the miseries inflictedupon them by the fierce Danish rover, Hasting, were dismayed by thesight of a fleet of long low vessels with spreading sails, heads carvedlike that of a serpent, and sterns finished like the tail of thereptile, such as they well knew to be the keels of the dreaded Northmen, the harbingers of destruction and desolation. Little hope of succor orprotection was there from King Charles the Simple; and, indeed, hadthe sovereign been ever so warlike and energetic, it would little haveavailed Rouen, which might have been destroyed twice over before amessenger could reach Laon. 

In this emergency, Franco, the Archbishop, proposed to go forth to meetthe Northmen, and attempt to make terms for his flock. The offer wasgladly accepted by the trembling citizens, and the good Archbishop went, bearing the keys of the town, to visit the camp which the Northmen hadbegun to erect upon the bank of the river. They offered him no violence, and he performed his errand safely. Rolf, the rude generosity of whosecharacter was touched by his fearless conduct, readily agreed to sparethe lives and property of the citizens, on condition that Rouen wassurrendered to him without resistance. 

Entering the town, he there established his head-quarters, and spent awhole year there and in the adjacent parts of the country, during whichtime the Northmen so faithfully observed their promise, that they wereregarded by the Rouennais rather as friends than as conquerors; andRolf, or Rollo, as the French called him, was far more popular amongthem than their real sovereign. Wherever he met with resistance, heshowed, indeed, the relentless cruelty of the heathen pirate; butwhere he found submission, he was a kind master, and these qualitiescontributed to gain for him an easy and rapid conquest of Neustria, asthe district of which Rouen was the capital was then called. 

In the course of the following year, he advanced along the banks of theSeine as far as its junction with the Eure. On the opposite side of theriver, there were visible a number of tents, where slept a numerous armywhich Charles had at length collected to oppose this formidable enemy. The Northmen also set up their camp, in expectation of a battle, anddarkness had just closed in on them when a shout was heard on theopposite side of the river, and to their surprise a voice was heardspeaking in their own language, "Brave warriors, why come ye hither, andwhat do ye seek?"

"We are Northmen, come hither to conquer France, " replied Rollo. "Butwho art thou who speakest our tongue so well?"

"Heard ye never of Hasting?" was the reply. 

Hasting was one of the most celebrated of the Sea-Kings. He had foughtwith Alfred in England, had cruelly wasted France, and had even sailedinto the Mediterranean and made himself dreaded in Italy; but with himit had been as with the old pirate in the poem:

 "Time will rust the sharpest sword, Time will consume the strongest cord; That which moulders hemp and steel, Mortal arm and nerve must feel. Of the Danish band, whom 'Earl Hasting' led, Many wax'd aged, and many were dead; Himself found his armor full weighty to bear, Wrinkled his brows grew, and hoary his hair; He leaned on a staff when his step went abroad, And patient his palfrey, when steed he bestrode. As he grew feebler, his wildness ceased, He made himself peace with prelate and priest; He made himself peace, and stooping his head, Patiently listen'd the counsel they said. 

 "'Thou hast murder'd, robb'd, and spoil'd, Time it is thy poor soul were assoil'd; Priests didst thou slay and churches burn, Time it is now to repentance to turn; Fiends hast thou worshipp'd with fiendish rite, Leave now the darkness and wend into light; Oh, while life and space are given, Turn thee yet, and think of heaven. '

 "That stern old heathen, his head he raised, And on the good prelate he steadfastly gazed, 'Give me broad lands on the "Eure and the Seine, " My faith I will leave, and I'll cleave unto thine. ' Broad lands he gave him on 'Seine and on Eure, ' To be held of the king by bridle and spear, "For the 'Frankish' King was a sire in age, Weak in battle, in council sage; Peace of that heathen leader he sought, Gifts he gave and quiet he bought; And the Earl took upon him the peaceful renown, Of a vassal and liegeman for 'Chartres' good town: He abjured the gods of heathen race, And he bent his head at the font of grace; But such was the grizzly old proselyte's look, That the priest who baptized him grew pale and shook. "

Such had been the history of Hasting, now Count of Chartres, who withoutdoubt expected that his name and example would have a great effect uponhis countrymen; but the answer to his question, "Heard ye never ofHasting?" met with no such answer as he anticipated. 

"Yes, " returned Rollo; "he began well, but ended badly. "

"Will ye not, then, " continued the old pirate, "submit to my lord theKing? Will ye not hold of him lands and honors?"

"No!" replied the Northmen, disdainfully, "we will own no lord; we willtake no gift; but we will have what we ourselves can conquer by force. "Here Hasting took his departure, and returning to the French camp, strongly advised the commander not to hazard a battle; but his counselwas overruled by a young standard-bearer, who, significantly observing, "Wolves make not war on wolves, " so offended the old sea-king, that hequitted the army that night, and never again appeared in France. Thewisdom of his advice was the next morning made evident, by the totaldefeat of the French, and the advance of the Northmen, who in a shortspace after appeared beneath the walls of Paris. 

Failing in their attempt to take the city, they returned to Rouen, wherethey fortified themselves, making it the capital of the territory theyhad conquered. 

Fifteen years passed away, the summers of which were spent in ravagingthe dominions of Charles the Simple, and the winters in the city ofRouen, and in the meantime a change had come over their leader. He hadbeen insensibly softened and civilized by his intercourse with the goodArchbishop Franco; and finding, perhaps, that it was not quite so easyas he had expected to conquer the whole kingdom of France, he declaredhimself willing to follow the example which he had once despised, and tobecome a vassal of the French crown for the duchy of Neustria. 

Charles, greatly rejoiced to find himself thus able to put a stop tothe dreadful devastations of the Northmen, readily agreed to the termsproposed by Rollo, appointing the village of St. Clair-sur-Epte, onthe borders of Neustria, as the place of meeting for the purpose ofreceiving his homage and oath of fealty. It was a strange meeting whichthere took place between the degenerate and almost imbecile descendantof the great Charles, with his array of courtly followers and hissplendor and luxury, and the gigantic warrior of the North, the founderof a line of kings, in all the vigor of the uncivilized native of a coldclimate, and the unbending pride of a conqueror, surrounded by his tallwarriors, over whom his chieftainship had hitherto depended only ontheir own consent, gained by his acknowledged superiority in wisdom incouncil and prowess in battle. 

The greatest difficulty to be overcome in this conference, was therepugnance felt by the proud Northman to perform the customary act ofhomage before any living man, especially one whom he held so cheap asCharles the Simple. He consented, indeed, to swear allegiance, anddeclare himself the "King's man, " with his hands clasped between thoseof Charles; but the remaining part of the ceremony, the kneeling tokiss the foot of his liege lord, he absolutely refused, and was withdifficulty persuaded to permit one of his followers to perform it in hisname. The proxy, as proud as his master, instead of kneeling, took theKing's foot in his hand, and lifted it to his mouth, while he stoodupright, thus overturning both monarch and throne, amid the rudelaughter of his companions, while the miserable Charles and hiscourtiers felt such a dread of these new vassals that they did not dareto resent the insult. 

On his return to Rouen, Rollo was baptized, and, on leaving thecathedral, celebrated his conversion by large grants to the differentchurches and convents in his new duchy, making a fresh gift on each ofthe days during which he wore the white robes of the newly baptized. All of his warriors who chose to follow his example, and embrace theChristian faith, received from him grants of land, to be held of him onthe same terms as those by which he held the dukedom from the King;and the country, thus peopled by the Northmen, gradually assumed theappellation of Normandy. 

Applying themselves with all the ardor of their temper to their new wayof life, the Northmen quickly adopted the manners, language, and habitswhich were recommended to them as connected with the holy faith whichthey had just embraced, but without losing their own bold and vigorousspirit. Soon the gallant and accomplished Norman knight could scarcelyhave been recognized as the savage sea-robber, once too ferocious andturbulent even for his own wild country in the far North, while, at thesame time, he bore as little resemblance to the cruel and voluptuousFrench noble, at once violent and indolent. The new war-cry of _Dieuaide_ was as triumphant as that of _Thor Hulfe_ had been of old, and theRed Cross led to as many victories as the Raven standard. 

It is said that the word "Exchequer" is derived from the court ofjustice established by Rollo, so called from the word "_Schicken_"signifying, in his native tongue, to send, because from it judges weresent to try causes throughout the dukedom. It is also said that theappeal from them to the Duke himself, made in these terms, "J'appelle aRou, " is the origin of the cry "_Haro_" by which, for centuries afterhis descendants had passed away from Normandy, the injured always calledfor justice. This was for many centuries believed in Normandy, but infact the word _Haro_ is only the same as our own "hurrah, " the beginningof a shout. There is no doubt, however, that the keen, unsophisticatedvigor of Rollo, directed by his new religion, did great good inNormandy, and that his justice was sharp, his discipline impartial, so that of him is told the famous old story bestowed upon other justprinces, that a gold bracelet was left for three years untouched upon atree in a forest. 

He had been married, as part of the treaty, to Gisèle, daughter of KingCharles the Simple, but he was an old grizzly warrior, and neither caredfor the other. A wife whom he had long before taken from Vermandois hadborne him a son, named William, to whom he left his dukedom in 932. 

All this history of Rolf, or Rollo, is, however, very doubtful; andnothing can be considered as absolutely established but that Neustria, or Normandy, was by him and his Northmen settled under a grant from theFrank king, Charles the Simple, and the French duke, Robert, Count ofParis. 

 CAMEO II. 

 WILLIAM LONGSWORD AND RICHARD THE FEARLESS. (932-996. )

 _Kings of England_. 927. Athelstan. 940. Edmund I. 947. Edwy. 959. Edward. 959. Ethelred II. 

 _Kings of France_. 936. Louis IV. 954. Lothaire III. 986. Louis V. 987 Hugh Capet. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 936. Otho I. 973. Otho II. 983. Otho III. 

The Norman character was strongly marked. Their whole nature was strongand keen, full of energy, and with none of the sluggish dulness that wasalways growing over the faculties of the Frank and Saxon; and even tothis day the same energy prevails among their descendants, a certainportion of the English nobility, and the population of Normandy and ofYorkshire. 

There was a deep sense of religion, always showing itself in action, though not always consistently, and therewith a grand sense of honorand generosity, coupled, however, with a curious shrewd astuteness. Thehigh-minded Norman was the flower of chivalry and honor, the low-mindedNorman the most successful of villains--and there has often been acurious compound of both elements in the character of some of the mostdistinguished Normans whom history has to show. 

Old Rollo caused his only son to be highly educated, and William of theLong Sword grew up a prince to be proud of. His height was majestic, hisfeatures beautiful, his complexion as pure and delicate as a maiden's, his strength gigantic, his prowess with all the weapons on foot and onhorseback unrivalled, and his wit and capacity of the brightest and mostpowerful. Born since his father's arrival in France, the tales of Thorand Odin, the old giants, and the future Valhalla, wore things of thedark old past to him, and he threw himself with his whole heart intothe new faith. So intensely devout was he, so fond of prayer and of therites of the Church, that Rollo called him fitter for a cloister thana dukedom; but the choice was not open to him, an only son, with thewelfare of the Normans dependent on him; and while living in the world, his saintly aspirations did not preserve him from a self-indulgentlife at home, or from unjust dealing abroad. But he had many fits ofdevotion. Once when hunting on the banks of the Seine, he came on theruins of the Abbey of Jumièges; which had, many years before, beendestroyed by Hasting. Two old monks, who still survived, came forth tomeet him, told him their history, and invited him to partake of some oftheir best fare. It was coarse barley bread, and the young duke, turningfrom it in disgust, carelessly bestowed a rich alms upon them, andeagerly pursued his sport. He had not ridden far before he roused a hugewild boar, and, in the encounter with it, he broke his sword, was thrownfrom his horse, and so severely injured, that his servants, on comingup, found him stretched insensible upon the ground. Believing thisaccident to be the just punishment of Heaven for his contempt for theold brethren, William, as soon as he recovered his senses, desired to becarried to Jumièges, and there humbly confessed his sinful feelings, andentreated their pardon. 

His first care, when his health was re-established, was for therestoration of Jumièges, which he built with great splendor, and oftenvisited. His chief desire was to enter the abbey as a brother of theorder, but his wish was opposed by the excellent Abbot Martin, whopointed out to him that he ought not to desert the station to which hehad been called by Heaven, nor quit the government till his son was oldenough to take the charge upon himself, and at the same time encouragedhim by the example of many a saint, whose heavenward road had lainthrough the toils and cares of a secular life. 

William yielded to the arguments of the good father, but his heart wasstill in the peaceful abbey, and he practised in secret the devotionsand austerities of the cloister to the utmost of his power, longingearnestly for the time when he might lay aside the weary load of caresof war and of government, and retire to that holy brotherhood. 

In Normandy, his strict, keen justice made him greatly honoredand loved, but the French greatly hated and abhorred him, and histransactions with them were sometimes cunning, sometimes violent. Hehad much of the old Northman about him, and had not entered into theChurch's teachings of the sanctity of marriage. Like his father, he hadhad a half-acknowledged wife, Espriota, who was the mother of his onlychild, Richard, but he put her away in order to ally himself with one ofthe great French families, and he had his child brought up at Bayeux, among Norse-speaking nobles, as if he would rather see him a Norsemanthan a, French prince. 

The bold and devout but inconsistent William was the dread of all hisneighbors, and especially of Arnulf, Count of Flanders. William was inalliance with Herluin, Count of Montreuil, against Arnulf; when, in942, he was invited to a conference on a small island in the Somme, andthere, having contrived to separate him from his followers, at a givensignal one of the Flemings struck him down with an oar, and a number ofdaggers were instantly plunged into his breast. 

The Flemings made their escape in safety, leaving the bleeding corpseupon the island, where the Normans, who had seen the murder, withoutbeing able to prevent or revenge it, reverently took it up, and broughtit back to Rouen. Beneath the robes of state they found it dressed ina hair-cloth shirt, and round the neck was a chain sustaining a goldenkey, which was rightly judged to belong to the chest where he kept hischoicest treasure; but few would have guessed what was the treasure sovalued by the knightly duke of the martial name, and doubtless therewere many looks of wonder among the Norman barons, when the chest wasopened, and disclosed, instead of gold and jewels, the gown and hood, the sandals and rosary, of a brother of the Benedictine order. 

He was buried beside his father, in the cathedral of Rouen, amid theuniversal lamentations of his vassals; and his greatest friend andcounsellor, Bernard the Dane, Count of Harcourt, fetched from Bayeux hisonly child, Richard, only eight years old, to be solemnly invested withthe ducal sword and mantle, and to receive the homage of the Normans. [Footnote: This is the Norman legend. The French Chronicles point toNorman treachery. ] The bitter hatred of the French to the Normans couldnot but break out in the minority. 

To the surprise of the Normans, Louis IV. , king of France, suddenlyarrived at Rouen, to claim, as he said, the homage of his young vassal. On the following day, Richard did not, as usual, appear beyond the wallsof the castle, and there were rumors that he was detained there by orderof the king. Assembling in great numbers, the Rouennais came before thecastle, shouting loudly for "Richard! Richard! our little Duke!" norcould they be pacified till Louis appeared at the window, lifting youngRichard in his arms, and made them a speech upon the gratitude andadmiration which he pretended to feel for Duke William, to whom he saidhe owed his restoration to the throne of his fathers, and whose sonhe promised to regard as his own child. 

On leaving Rouen, Louis claimed the right of taking Richard with him, as the guardian of all crown vassals in their minority; and Bernard deHarcourt, finding it impossible to resist, only stipulated that theyoung Duke should never be separated from his Norman esquire, Osmond deCenteville, who on his side promised to keep a careful watch over him. Richard was accordingly conducted to Montleon, and made the companion ofthe two young princes, Lothaire and Carloman, and for some time no morewas heard respecting him in Normandy. At last arrived a message fromOsmond de Centeville, sent in secret with considerable difficulty, telling the Normans to pray that their young duke might be delivered outof the hands of his enemies, for that he was convinced that evil wasintended, since he was closely watched; and one day when he had gonedown to the river to bathe, the queen had threatened him with cruelpunishments if he again left the place. Bernard immediately ordered athree days' fast, during which prayers for the safety of the littleduke were offered in every church in Normandy, and further tidings wereanxiously awaited. 

In the meantime the faithful squire was devising a plan of escape. Hecaused the young Richard to feign illness, and thus obtained a slightrelaxation of the vigilance with which his movements, were watched, which enabled him to carry to the duke's apartments a great bundle ofhay. At nightfall he rolled Richard up in the midst of it, and laying itacross his shoulders, he crossed the castle court to the stable, as ifhe was going to feed his horse, and as soon as it was dark he mounted, placing the boy before him, and galloped off to a castle on the bordersof Normandy, where the rescued prince was greeted with the greatest joy. 

The escape of his ward was followed by an open declaration of war on thepart of Louis IV. , upon which the Count de Harcourt sent to Denmark toask succor from King Harald Blue-tooth, who, mindful of Duke William'skindness, himself led a numerous force to Normandy. Bernard, pretendingto consider this as a piratical invasion, sent to ask Louis to assisthim in expelling the heathens. Louis entered Normandy, and came insight of the Danish host on the banks of the river Dives, where Haraldsummoned him to leave the dukedom to its rightful owner. Louis desireda conference, and a tent was pitched between the armies, where the twokings met. 

Bernard advised the King of France not to bring Herluin de Montreuil tothis meeting, since the Normans considered him as the occasion of theirduke's death; but the French replied that no Dane should hinder theirking from taking with him whomsoever he pleased. While the two kingswere in the tent, Herluin, seeing a knight from the Cotentin, with whomhe was acquainted, went up to him and inquired after his health. 

The Danes asked who he was, and the knight replied, "Count Herluin, whocaused Duke William's death;" whereupon the wild Danes rushed upon him, and killed him with their battle-axes. 

A general conflict ensued; the French were put to flight, and by thetime the kings came out of the tent, the battle was decided. Louismounted his horse in order to rejoin his troops, but the animal ran withhim into the midst of the enemy, where Harald caught his bridle, madehim prisoner, and delivered him to four knights to keep. While, however, they were engaged in plundering, he made his escape, and had ridden fourleagues when he met a soldier of Rouen, whom he bribed to hide him in anisland in the Seine, until he could find a fit opportunity of quittingNormandy. Harald and Bernard, however, by making strict inquiries, discovered that the soldier knew where he was, and seizing the man'swife and children, threatened to put them to death if he did not put theking into their hands. Louis was accordingly delivered to them, but theyshortly after released him on receiving his two sons as hostages. 

The younger of the two princes died shortly after his arrival inNormandy; and anxiety for Lothaire, the remaining son, induced hisfather to come to terms with the Normans; and, at St. Clair-sur-Epte, Louis swore to leave Richard in undisturbed possession of his lands, andto extend the limits of the duchy as far as the banks of the Epte, afterwhich the young duke paid him homage, and restored his son to him. 

Richard then returned to Rouen, which he had not visited since he hadbeen carried to the French court, and was greeted with great joy by thecitizens, who were much delighted by his appearance, the height of hisfigure, and the beauty of his countenance. The King of Denmark was alsoreceived by them with great enthusiasm, who, after spending some time atRouen, returned home. 

At the age of fourteen, Richard was betrothed to Emma, daughter of Hughthe White, Count of Paris, a nobleman whose increasing power had longbeen a subject of jealousy both to the court of Flanders and to theKing of France. On hearing of the intended connection between these twomighty vassals, they united their forces to prevent it, and called inthe aid of Otho, Emperor of Germany, and Conrad, King of Burgundy. 

While Louis and Conrad attacked the Count, Otho and Arnulf enteredNormandy, and laid siege to Rouen, but on the way thither were attackedby an ambuscade under the command of the young Richard himself, who nowfor the first time bore arms, and greatly signalized himself, puttingthe Germans to flight, and killing the Emperor's nephew with his ownhand. 

Otho still advanced and invested Rouen. Wishing to know what resourcesthe city contained, he sent to ask Richard's permission to enter it, inorder to pay his devotions at the shrine of St. Ouen. His request wasgranted, and in passing through the streets he perceived that the citywas so well defended that he could not hope to take it. On his return tothe camp, he told his council that he intended to make his peace withthe Duke of Normandy, by delivering up to him the Count of Flanders, theauthor of the expedition. His council, however, persuaded him that thiswould be a disgraceful action; and Arnulf, receiving some hint of hisproposal, in the middle of the night quitted the camp with all his men, and returned to Flanders. The noise of his departure awoke the Germans, who, imagining themselves to be attacked by the besieged, armedthemselves in haste, and there was great confusion till morning, when, perceiving The departure of the Flemings, they set fire to their camp, and took the road to Germany. The Normans, sallying out of the town, harassed the rear, killed a number of them, and took many prisoners, anda great quantity of baggage. 

In 954, Louis was killed by a fall from his horse, and was succeededby his son Lothaire, who inherited all his dislike to the Normans, andespecially hated the young duke, the companion of his boyhood, whosefame had so far exceeded his own, both in feats of arms and skill ingovernment, and who, though only twenty-three, had been chosen by thewise and great Count of Paris as the guardian of his children, and themodel on which his sons were to form themselves. 

Twice did Lothaire, in conjunction with Count Thibaut de Chartres, ayoung nobleman who envied the fame of Richard, attempt to assassinatehim at a conference; and the former, despairing of ridding himself ofhim by treachery, assembled an army of fifty thousand men, enteredNormandy, and besieged Rouen. Here Richard, in a sudden night-attack onhis camp, dispersed his forces, and took a great number of prisoners, all of whom he released without a ransom. Then, pursuing his advantage, he entered the county of Chartres, but he was obliged to return to hisduchy, to defend it against a powerful league of all the neighboringprinces, formed by the king. 

Fearing to be crushed by so mighty a force, he sent to ask succor fromhis old friend, the king of Denmark, who, though too aged and infirm tocome himself to Normandy, equipped a numerous fleet, and sent his bestwarriors to Richard. 

The ravages which they committed compelled the king to send the Bishopof Chartres to sue for peace, but he would not venture into the campwithout an escort from the duke, lest, as he said, "the Danish wolvesshould devour him on the way. "

On his arrival, he implored Richard to have compassion on the French, who suffered dreadful miseries from the Danes; and the duke, alwaysdesirous of peace, willingly engaged to treat with the king, andwithdrew his forces into Normandy, to the great disappointment of theDanes, who had expected to dethrone Lothaire, and to place the gallantRichard on his throne. They were much surprised at the moderation of thedemands which he, a conqueror, made to the humiliated Lothaire, onlydesiring to be left in quiet possession of his inheritance, and thata pardon should be granted for all injuries committed on either sideduring the war. 

Lothaire gladly agreed to these terms, and the remainder of Richard'slife was spent in peace. Such of the latter's subjects as had beentrained to arms in the constant wars during his minority, foundemployment in combats with the Greeks and Saracens in Italy, where thetwelve sons of a Norman knight, named Tancred de Hauteville, laid thefoundation of the kingdoms of the Two Sicilies. Their place was suppliedby the Danish allies, who, full of admiration for the FearlessDuke, were desirous of embracing his religion, and living under hisgovernment. Thibaut de Chartres came to Normandy to implore his pardon, and was received with such kindness that he was overcome with shame athis former conduct. 

Richard was a stern but honorable man, and the courage and ability whichhe displayed throughout these wars made a great impression on his Danishallies, who were induced, in great numbers, to adopt the religion of theFearless Duke, and to live under his government. 

How the truly great man takes his revenge, was indeed shown by Richardthe Fearless, the last time he took any part in the affairs of thenation. It was when Hugh Capet, Count of Paris, once his ward, had beenraised to the throne of France by the authority of the Pope, and havingreceived the homage of every crown vassal excepting Arnulf of Flanders, proceeded to ravage his county and seize his towns. Arnulf, completelyreduced, saw no hope for himself except in throwing himself on the mercyof Duke Richard, the very man whose father he had murdered, and whomhe had pursued with the most unrelenting hatred from his earliestchildhood. Richard had but to allow royal justice to take its course, and he would have been fully avenged; but he who daily knelt before thealtar of the Church of Fescamp, had learnt far other lessons. He wentto Hugh Capet, and so pleaded with him, that he not only obtained thepardon of Arnulf, but the restoration of the whole of his county, andof both his cities. Thus, without doubt, would the saintly WilliamLongsword have desired to be revenged by his only son. 

Richard Sans Peur lived nine years after this, spending his time, for the most part, in the Abbey of Fescamp, in devotion and works ofcharity, and leaving the government to his eldest son, Richard the Good. He is thus described by a Norman chronicler who knew him well in his oldage: "He was tall and well-proportioned, his countenance was noble, hisbeard was long, and his head covered with white hair. He was a piousbenefactor to the monks, supplied the wants of the clergy, despised theproud, loved the humble, aided the poor, the widow and the orphan, anddelighted in ransoming prisoners. "

He caused a stone coffin to be made for himself in his lifetime, andplaced in the Church of Fescamp, where, every Friday, he filled it withwheat, which was afterwards distributed among the poor. In this Abbey hedied in 996, desiring to be buried outside the church, close beneath theeaves, "where, " said he, "the droppings of water from the roof may fallon me, and wear away the stains of earthly corruption. "

His daughter Emma is often mentioned in English history as the wife ofEthelred the Unready, and afterward of Knut. She has often been muchblamed for this second marriage with the enemy of her country, but itshould be remembered how nearly the Northmen and Danes were connected, and that Knut was the grandson of her father's ally, Harald Blue-tooth. 

The great event of Richard's time was the above-mentioned recognitionof Hugh Capet as King of France. The Caroline race were Franks, chieflyGerman in blood, and had never fully amalgamated with the race calledFrench, a mixture of Roman and Gallic, with only an upper stratum of thetrue Frank. When the Counts of Paris obtained the throne, and the lineof Charlemagne retired into the little German county of Lotharingia, orLorraine, then France became really France, and a nation with a nationalsovereign. Still it was a very small domain. Provence was part of theGerman Empire, so was Burgundy; Anjou, Normandy, and Brittany werealmost independent, though owning a sort of allegiance to the king whoreigned at Paris. 

 CAMEO III. 

 YOUTH OF THE CONQUEROR. (1036-1066. )

 _Kings of England_. 1016. Knut. 1036. Harold I. 1039. Harthaknut. 1041. Edward the Confessor. 

 _Kings of France_. 1031. Henry IV. 1039. Philip I. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1021. Conrad II. 1039. Henry III. 1055. Henry IV. 

Richard, called the Good, son of Richard Sans Peur, does not seem tohave been in all respects equal to his father, nor did much that isworthy of note occur in his time. 

He died in 1026, leaving two sons, Richard and Robert, both violent andturbulent young men, the younger of whom was called, from his fierytemper, Robert the Devil. After a fierce dispute respecting Robert'sappanage, the two brothers were suddenly reconciled, and, immediatelyafterward, Richard died, not without suspicion, on the part of theFrench, that he had been poisoned by his brother. 

The Normans gave little heed to the calumny, and, in fact, the open, generous temper of Robert was by no means likely to belong to a secretmurderer. The splendor of his court, and munificence of his gifts, acquired for him the name of Robert the Magnificent, and the following, among other instances, is recorded of his liberality:

When attending mass at the Abbey of Cerizy, his own foundation, heone day remarked a stranger knight, when asked for his alms at theoffertory, reply sadly, that he had nothing to give. He beckoned toa squire, and sent him to present the poor stranger with a pursecontaining a hundred pounds, which the knight immediately offered on thealtar. After the mass was over, the sacristan came to ask him if he knewbow large the sum was, or if he had given it by mistake, to which hereplied, that he had offered it wittingly, since it was for no otherend that the Duke had sent it to him. His answer was reported by thesacristan to the Duke, who instantly sent the high-minded stranger asecond purse, containing the same sum for his own use. 

Robert founded nine monasteries, and made large gifts to all thechurches in his duchy, entreating the prayers of the clergy and of thepoor, for the pardon of the sins of his youth; but his conscience wasill at ease, and in the sixth year of his dukedom he resolved to go onpilgrimage to the Holy Land, a journey which was then even more perilousthan in subsequent years, when the Crusades had, in some degree, securedthe safety of the pilgrims, and he seems to have been fully persuadedthat he should never return alive. 

His chief care was for the welfare of his son, William, a boy of sevenyears old, whose situation was the more precarious, because there wasa stain on his birth, his mother being the daughter of a tanner ofFalaise, so that it was more than probable that his right to thesuccession would be disputed by the numerous descendants of Richard SansPeur. Robert did his best to secure his safety by calling togetherthe vassals to do homage to him, and placing him under the especialprotection of Henry I. Of France, at whose court at Paris he left him. 

Robert then set out on his pilgrimage, with a few companions, allwearing the coarse garb of pilgrims, with staves in their hands, andtheir feet bare. As they were passing the gates of a small town inFranche Comté, Robert walking last, an insolent warder, tired of holdingthe gate open, struck him such a blow on the shoulders with a halbertthat he reeled under it, but so changed was his once violent temper, that, seeing his friends about to revenge the insult, he called out, "Let him alone; pilgrims ought to suffer for the love of God. I love hisblow better than my city of Rouen. "

The next time Robert was heard of, was in humble guise, with staffand wallet, when he received the blessing of the Pope at Rome; butafterward, when he entered Constantinople, he appeared in all his wontedmagnificence. He rode to the palace of the Greek Emperor on a mule, shodwith golden shoes, so slightly fastened on as to be shaken off amongstthe crowds who surrounded him. 

He travelled onward through Asia Minor, though attacked by a fever, which obliged him to be carried in a litter by Moorish slaves--as hehimself expressed it to a Norman pilgrim whom he met returning, "to becarried by devils to Paradise. " Safely arriving at Jerusalem, he therepaid the entrance-money for a multitude of poor pilgrims, whom he foundshut out because they were unable to pay the large toll demanded by theSaracens; and after performing the accustomed devotions at the differentconsecrated spots in the Holy City, he set out on his return toNormandy. His health was already impaired by the fatigues of thejourney, and he died at the city of Nicaea, in the year 1035. There, inthe now profaned sanctuary, where was held the first general Council ofthe Church, rests, in his nameless and forgotten grave, the last of thehigh-spirited and devout Dukes of Normandy. 

From the time of the departure of Duke Robert, dangers crowded round theducal throne of his child; nor were they, as in the stormy minority ofRichard Sans Peur, perils chiefly from enemies without, met by a band ofvassals, strong in attachment to their lord. The foes who threatened theyoung William were of his own family, and his own subjects, and therewas none of that generous temper, even amongst his chief supporters, which, in the case of his great-grandfather, had made the scenes of warand bloodshed in which he was brought up, a school not of valor alone, but of the higher virtues of chivalry. 

The Norman barons, greatly altered from what they had been in the dayswhen the justice of Rollo prevailed, lived shut up in their strongcastles, making war on each other, like independent princes plunderingthe poor, and committing horrible cruelties, entirely unrestrained bythe guardians of the Duke. These, indeed, seemed to be the especial markfor the attacks of the traitors, for his tutor and seneschal were bothmurdered; the latter, Osborn, Count de Breteuil, while sleeping in thesame room with him. Osborn left a son, William, called from his nameFils, or Fitz Osborn, who grew up with the young Duke, and became hischief companion and friend. 

It is wonderful that William himself should have escaped death, when socompletely unprotected; but he was preserved through all these dangersfor the task which was prepared for him; and at a very early age, hisnumerous troubles had formed his character in the mould fittest forhim, who was to be the scourge of England, and yet the founder of itsgreatness. 

He was not sixteen when he first showed of what temper he was. Hisgreat-uncle, the Count d'Arques, had set up a claim to the duchy, and was besieged in his castle at Arques by Walter Gifford, Count deLongueville, when the King of France succeeded in sending him suchconsiderable reinforcements and supplies, that Longueville sentinformation that he should be obliged to raise the siege. The tidingsreached the Duke, at his hunting-lodge of Valognes. He stood for a fewmoments in deep thought, and then called for his horse, only saying tohis knights these few words, "_Qui m'aime, me suive!_" "Let him wholoves me, follow me!" and rode off at full speed. He distanced all hisfollowers, rode all night, only stopping to take a fresh horse, andin the evening of the next day arrived quite alone at the camp beforeArques, swearing never to leave it till the castle was in his hands. The siege was continued with vigor, and, in a short time, it wassurrendered, the Count taking refuge in France. 

From this time William took the direction of affairs into his own hands, and, by his firmness and ability, succeeded in restraining the excessesof his lawless vassals, though their turbulence, and the severity ofhis own silent and haughty disposition, made their submission veryunwilling. When he was about twenty, a dangerous conspiracy was formedagainst him by his cousin, Guy of Burgundy, and a number of his chiefvassals, who intended to seize him at his hunting-lodge at Valognes, puthim to death, and raise Guy to the dukedom. 

The conspirators met at Bayeux, the day before their intended treachery, and, whilst dining there, called in to amuse them a half-witted mannamed Gillos, and the plot was, inadvertently, mentioned in hispresence. The duke, when passing through the town, had shown thepoor man some kindness, and no sooner did he understand the intendedtreachery, than he left the hall, and set off for Valognes, where hearrived just before midnight, and, finding all gone to rest, began tobatter the door with a stick, shouting for the Duke. At first, Williamcould not believe the story, but Gillos seemed so much in earnest, thathe deemed it advisable to go and see what had given rise to the report, and, muffling himself in a cloak, ran down stairs, himself saddled hishorse, and rode toward Bayeux. Before he had gone far, he heard thetrampling of horses and clanking of weapons, and, concealing himselfamong the trees, saw that the poor fool's information was perfectlycorrect, for the whole band of traitors passed by exactly as they hadbeen described. Upon this, he changed his course, and turned toward thecoast in the direction of Falaise, his birthplace, and the town mostdevoted to his interests. The dawn of morning found him with his horseso weary that it could hardly stand, at the entrance of a small village, still at a considerable distance from Falaise, and ignorant of the road. At that moment a gentleman came out of the principal house, and theinstant he beheld the young horseman, travel-stained and covered withdust as he was, he exclaimed, "St. Mary, my Lord, what can have broughtyou here in such a condition?"

"Who are you, who know me so well?" asked William, in reply. 

"By my faith, " was the answer, "I am called Hubert de Ryes. I hold thisvillage of you under the Count de Bessin. Tell me, boldly, what youneed; I will help you as I would help myself. "

Accordingly, Hubert de Byes took him into his house, gave him somerefreshment, and provided him with a fresh horse, sending his threesons with him as guides, whilst he himself remained to misdirect thepursuers, William safely arrived at Falaise, and, in memory of hisescape, is said to have caused his path to be traced out by a raisedbank of earth, part of which is still in existence. 

Rallying his faithful subjects around him at Falaise, and obtaining aidfrom the king, William met the rebels at Val des Demes. One of them cameover to his side before the battle, and, having previously sworn thatthe Duke should be the first man whom he would strike, he began bygiving his armor a slight blow with the point of his lance, consideringit necessary thus to fulfil his rash oath to the letter. The rebels weretotally defeated, and either submitted to William's mercy, or went tojoin their countrymen, who were engaged in the conquest of Sicily. 

This was the last attempt made by the Normans to resist their Duke, whose authority was now fully established; but it was not long beforea war broke out with his powerful neighbor Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, which, however, would scarcely deserve mention, but for the curiousterms in which a challenge was sent by the Duke to the Count, who hadcome to raise the siege of Domfront. 

"Tell the Count of Anjou, " said he to William Fitz Osborn and RogerMontgomery, his messengers, "that if he attempts to carry victuals intoDomfront, he will find me before the gates, mounted on a bay horse, andwith a red shield. And that he may know me the better, I shall have atthe point of my lance a streamer of taffety, to wipe his face withal. "

In the battle which followed, a few days after, William fulfilled histhreat, by overthrowing the Count, who escaped with difficulty, with theloss of part of an ear, and was soon after obliged to conclude a peace. 

William married Matilda, daughter of the Count of Flanders, and of asister of Duke Robert the Magnificent; and having omitted to ask thedispensation from the Pope, which was required on the marriage of suchnear relations, his uncle, the Archbishop of Rouen, laid them both undersentence of excommunication. William sought for an advocate to send toRome to plead for their absolution, and his choice fell upon Lanfranc, anative of Lombardy, who had been bred as a lawyer, and was possessed ofgreat learning and talent, but had chosen to embrace the monastic life, and had selected the Norman abbey of Bee as the place of his profession, because the monks there were very poor, and very strict in theobservance of their rule. Lanfranc, at the Duke's desire, travelled toRome, and there succeeded in obtaining the confirmation of the marriage, and the absolution of the bride and bridegroom, on condition of theireach founding an abbey, and jointly building a hospital for the blind. 

In accordance with this command, Matilda built the beautiful Abbaye auxDames at Caen, where her eldest daughter, Cecile, afterward took theveil, and William founded, at the same place, the Abbey of St. Stephen, of which Lanfranc was the first abbot. But fair as were the proportionsof that exquisite building, noble as were its clustered columns, andrich as were the zigzag mouldings of its deep arches, its foundation wasinsecure, for it was on iniquity. It stood on ground violently takenfrom a number of poor people; and where could the blessing of Heavenhave been?

Twenty-three years afterward a grave was dug in the noble choir of St. Stephen's Church, and William's corpse was carried through the porch, followed by a long train of nobles, knights, and clergy, but by not oneof his numerous children. The requiem was chanted, and orations weremade in praise of the Duke of Normandy, the King and Conqueror ofEngland, the founder of abbeys, the builder of churches, when suddenlythe cry of "Ha Ro!"--the Norman appeal for justice--was heard, and a manin mean garments stood forth, and spoke thus: "Clerks and Bishops, thisground is mine. Here was my father's hearth. The man whom you praisewrested it from me to build this church. I sold it not. I made no grantof it. It is my right, and I claim it. In the name of Rollo, the founderof his family, and of our laws, I forbid you to lay the body of thespoiler therein, or to cover it with my earth. "

The Bishops were obliged to promise satisfaction to the man, and to payhim on the spot sixty pence as the price of the Conqueror's grave. But, even then, his bones were not permitted to rest in peace. In the courseof the civil wars of France, his tomb was twice broken open by theHuguenots, the first time rifled of the royal ornaments in which hehad been arrayed, and the second, the spoilers, disappointed of theirexpected prize, cast out the mouldering bones, and dispersed them. 

 CAMEO IV. 

 EARL GODWIN. (1012-1052. )

 _Kings of England_. 1013. Swein. 1014. Knut. 1015. Ethelred the Unready (restored). 1016. Edmund Ironside. 1018. Knut. 1036. Harold I. 1039. Harthaknut. 1041. Edward the Confessor. 

The Danish conquest of England, although the power of the kings of thatnation continued but a short time, made great changes in the conditionof the country. The customs and laws that had hitherto been observedonly in the lands granted by Alfred to the Danes, spread into almost allthe kingdom, and the civilization which the great king had striven sohard to introduce was well-nigh swept away. 

England might be considered to be in three divisions--the West Saxon, subject to the laws of Alfred; the Mercian, which had a law of its own;and the East Anglian and Northern portion, where the population waschiefly Danish, and which was therefore more under the immediate powerof the Danish kings. Under them, London became the royal residence, instead of Winchester, and several words in our language still attesttheir influence upon our customs. Of these is the word Hustings, for aplace of public assembly; and the title of Earl, for which the Englishlanguage afforded no feminine, till it borrowed the word Countess fromthe French, reminds us that the Northern Jarls were only governorsduring the king's pleasure, and that their dignity conferred no rank ontheir families. 

Under the Danish kings, the other divisions of England fell under therule of three great Earls. The Danish Northumbria was ruled by the greatNorthman Siward Bjorn; Mercia was governed by the house of Leofric, anold noble family connected with the ancient line of Mercian kings. 

There were many of this family named Leofric, and it is probably ofthe one living at this time that the curious old tradition of Coventrybelongs, which related how his wife, the Lady Godiva, rode through thetown with no covering but her abundant hair, to obtain from him theremission of the townspeople from his oppressive exactions--a story ofwhich the memory is kept up at Coventry by a holiday, and the processionof the Lady Godiva. 

Wessex had become the portion of Godwin, son of Ulfnoth, andgreat-nephew to the traitor, Edric Streona, the murderer of EdmundIronside. There is a story, probably a mere fiction, that this familywas of mean origin, that Ulfnoth was a herdsman of the south ofWarwickshire, and that Godwin first rose to distinction in the followingmanner: Ulf, a Danish Jarl, who had married a sister of Knut, wasseparated from the army after one of the battles with Edmund Ironside, and after wandering all night, met in the morning with a youth driving aherd of cattle. He asked his name, and the reply was, "I am Godwin, theson of Ulfnoth; and you, I think, are a Dane. "

Ulf confessed that he was, and begged the young man to show him the wayto the Severn, where he expected to find the fleet. 

"The Dane would be a fool who trusted to a Saxon, " answered Godwin; andwhen Ulf continued his entreaties, he explained that the way was notlong, but that the serfs were all in arms against the Danes, and wouldkill both him and any one whom they found guiding him. Ulf offered theyoung herdsman a golden ring for his reward. He looked at it a moment, then said, "I will take nothing from you, but I will be your guide, " andled him home to his father's cottage, where he was hidden through thewhole day. At night, when he prepared to set forth, Ulfnoth told himthat Godwin would not be able to return, since the peasants would killhim for having protected a Dane, and therefore begged that the Jarlwould keep him among his own people, and present him to the King. 

Ulf promised, and this, it is said, was the foundation of Godwin'sgreatness; but there is great reason to doubt the tale, and it is farmore probable that the family was anciently noble. Godwin married Gyda, the sister of Ulf, and thus was brought into near connection with Knut;but Ulf, his patron and brother-in-law, soon after was killed in one ofthose outbursts of violence and cruelty to which Knut seemed to returnwhenever he went back to his own savage North. 

Knut had been defeated by the Swedes at Helge, and was at Roskild, when he was playing at chess in the evening with Ulf, and, making anoversight, lost a knight. He took the piece back again, changed hismove, and desired his opponent to go on playing; but the Jarl, choosingto play chess on equal terms or not at all, threw down the board, andwent away. 

"Run away, Ulf the Fearful!" said Knut. 

Ulf turned back, and answered, "Thou wouldst have run further at Helgeriver! Thou didst not call me Ulf the Fearful when I came to thy helpwhile the Swedes were beating thee like a dog. "

Knut brooded on the offence all night, and in the morning sent his pageto kill the Jarl. The page found him at his prayers in church, andtherefore refrained; but Knut sent another of his followers, who slewhim as he knelt. 

Godwin had, before this, gained too much favor to be likely to fall withhis brother-in-law. He was with the king on an expedition against theWends, and on the night before an intended battle, made a sudden attackwithout Knut's knowledge, and completely routed them. His talents wereso much appreciated, that he received the great Earldom of Wessex, theportion of England least under the power of the Danes, and where theold line of Alfred was most loved and regretted, since it was theirhereditary kingdom. 

For this reason Godwin was desirous to maintain the Danes in Englandafter Knut's death, and to keep the scattered royal line at a distance. Harthaknut, whom the will of his father had called to the succession, was absent in Denmark, and Godwin caused his brother, Harold Harefoot, to be crowned in haste, though the Archbishop would not sanction theusurpation, placed the crown and sceptre on the altar, and forbade thebishops to give him their blessing. 

Alfred and Edward, the two sons of Ethelred the Unready, had in themeantime been brought up under the protection of their uncle, Richardthe Good, of Normandy, dwelling for the most part in those beautifulAbbeys of Fescamp and Jumièges, which had been endowed by the piety ofthe Dukes, and where they grew up in godliness and virtue, with gentlemanners and civilized tastes, far unlike to those which prevailed intheir native land. Robert the Magnificent was a great friend to them, and his death on his pilgrimage made their abode in Normandy far lesspeaceful and secure. 

Soon after the coronation of Harold Harefoot, they received a letterpurporting to come from their mother, Emma, widow of Knut, inviting themto assert their claim to their father's throne. Edward, with a bandof Normans, met his mother at Winchester, but he could not keep hisfollowers from plundering the country; and finding little hope ofsuccess, gave up the attempt, and returned to Normandy. Alfred landed atSandwich, in Kent, and was so well received by the Archbishop andpeople, that Godwin, becoming alarmed, had recourse to treachery, pretended to own him as king, and conducted him to Guilford. ThitherKing Harold sent his Danes, who seized the prince's followers, afterGodwin's men had dispersed them through the town and stupefied them withdrink. Every tenth man was killed, the rest were sold for slaves, andAlfred himself was carried to Ely, where his eyes were torn out, and hedied of the injury. His mother, Emma, fled to Bruges, and this makes itprobable that either she never sent the letter at all, or was only theinnocent instrument of Godwin's desire to rid himself of the royalfamily; but her son Edward believed her to have been knowingly concernedin this horrible transaction, and never regarded her as guiltless of hisbrother's death. It is possible that Godwin may also have been free fromtreachery, and have meant well by the prince. 

Her other son, Harthaknut, left Denmark to join her at Bruges, intendingin the spring to drive Harold from the throne; but death was beforehandwith him. Harold died in 1040, and Harthaknut had only to come toEngland to take possession of the crown. Both these young men were, atheart, savage Danes; and the first deed of Harthaknut, on his arrival, was to satisfy his vengeance for the usurpation of his throne and themurder of Alfred, by causing Harold's corpse to be taken from its grave, the head cut off, and the body thrown into a marsh. He threatened topunish Godwin, but the Earl averted his wrath by the present of one ofthe long serpent-like keels prized by the Danes, the prow gilded, andthe crew of eighty men, each fully equipped, and with a gold bracelet onthe left arm. 

Harthaknut was pacified by this gift, and contented himself with sendingfor his surviving half-brother Edward from Normandy, and treating him asbecame the Atheling. The wild, half-heathen court of Harthaknut was astrange and bewildering change for the gentle Edward, whose habits andtastes were only suited to the convent where he had spent his earlydays, and who found in the rough affection of his Danish brother hisonly protection from the fierce spirits around. His grief and dismaywere great when, after he had spent a few months in England, he heardthat Harthaknut, at the wedding-feast of the daughter of the Dane, Osgood Clapa, from whom Clapham is named, had died suddenly, immediatelyafter an excessive draught of wine. 

Edward found himself left without protection in the hands of the fiercemen who had murdered his brother. He was forty years old, and of aninactive, timid disposition, which unfitted him for taking any boldmeasures in this emergency; his affections were in the convents ofNormandy, and with the young son of his friend, Duke Robert, and heearnestly entreated Godwin to allow him to return in safety thither. 

The Earl, however, saw that neither Saxons nor Danes would submit to theauthority of one who was not of royal blood, and that the best hopeof preserving the power he had acquired in the latter reigns, was bysetting up a weak king, and governing in his name. He therefore repliedby tendering his submission to Edward, and promising to support him onthe throne, on condition that he would marry Edith, his daughter, sofair, so gentle, and pious a lady, that it was a saying, "Even as therose springs from the thorn, so springs Edith from Godwin. " She was verylearned, and Ingulf, who afterward was the secretary of the Conqueror, and Abbot of Croyland, loved to remember how, when he was a boy comefrom his convent-school to visit his father at the court, the Lady Edithwould send for him, examine him in his studies, and end by causing hermaiden to count out three or four coins into his hand, and sending himto the royal larder for refreshment. 

Edward was thus placed upon the throne, and every act performed of hisown free will showed his gentleness and desire for his people's good. Atthe request of Edith, he abolished the Danegeld, or money raised firstto bribe the Danes, and then as their tribute; indeed, it was saidthat he had seen a vision of an evil spirit dancing on the gold thuscollected. He made new laws in hopes of preventing crime, and set sostrict an example of attention to every rule of the Church, and givingalms so largely, that he gained the love of his people, and fixed hismemory in their hearts so strongly, that he was revered as a Saint, andthe title of Confessor was given to him, though it properly only appliesto one who has suffered everything short of martyrdom, for the sake ofthe Christian faith. 

The times were too rude and violent for a king of so soft a mould:crimes were committed which he had no power to restrain, and, weak-handed and bewildered, he seems to have acted in great matters muchas he did in the following adventure: He was lying on his bed, when aperson came into the apartment, and, thinking him asleep, stole somemoney out of a chest. The King let this pass; but when the thiefreturned for a second handful, he quietly said, "Sirrah, you had bettertake care, for if Hugolin, my chamberlain, catches you, he will give youa sound beating. " Hugolin soon came in, and was much concerned at theloss. "Never mind, " said the King; "the poor man wants it more than wedo. "

The sons of Godwin were growing up rude, high-spirited young men, whopresumed on their connection with the King to hold him cheap, and laughat him to his face. Sweyn, the eldest, was the worst, and at last causedhimself to be banished from the realm by the crime of carrying off theAbbess from the Convent of Leominster. He then spent the life ofa pirate, in the course of which he visited the coast, and, whilepretending to attempt to be reconciled to his family, treacherouslymurdered his cousin Biorn. After six years he repented, went barefoot onpilgrimage to Jerusalem, and died while returning. The other brotherswere stained with no such enormities, but they were dreaded and dislikedby the King, who naturally turned to the friends of his youth, theNormans. 

Norman dresses and customs were introduced, the King's own handwritingwas in the foreign character, and he expressed his assent to the laws byappending to them an impression of his seal, after the fashion of thekings of France. He likewise invited many of his old friends fromNormandy, gave some of them lands in England, where they builtfortified castles, and bestowed the bishopries and abbeys upon Normanecclesiastics. Great discontent arose upon this, and Godwin and hissons took advantage of them to gain popularity, by strenuously opposingeverything Norman, and maintaining, as they said, the old Englishcustoms. 

Eustace als Gernons (the Whiskered), Count de Mantes, who had marriedthe King's sister, came to visit Edward. At Dover a squabble took placebetween his followers and the townspeople, in which several personson both sides were killed. Edward ordered Godwin to chastise thetownspeople, but, instead of this, the Earl collected an army, andmarched upon the King himself. They would have made him prisoner but forLeofric of Mercia, and Siward, Earl of Northumbria, who both came to hisrescue, and drove Godwin and his family into exile. 

Edward now felt himself truly King of England, and was able to enjoy ashort visit from the Duke of Normandy, who came to see him, and probablythen first conceived the hope of obtaining the crown of the ill-governedand divided country that seemed ready to fall a prey to the firstvigorous enemy. 

Earl Godwin was not long in assembling his friends, and making a descenton the coast. All Kent and London rose in his favor, and Edward wasobliged to permit his return, and be reconciled to him. 

Very shortly after his return, he was struck with a fit of apoplexy, while feasting with the King at Easter. He was borne from the table byhis two eldest surviving sons, Harold and Tostig, and died five daysafter, in the year 1052. The Norman chroniclers give the followingaccount of his death: One of the cup-bearers, while serving the King, happened to make a false step, but saved himself from falling by thefoot, at which Godwin observed, "See how one brother helps another!"

"Yes, " said the king, "so would my brother have helped me, had helived. "

"I know you suspect me of his death, " replied Godwin, "but may God, whois true and just, cause this morsel of bread to choke me, if I am guiltyof his murder. "

Scarcely had he spoken the words before he fell back, struck by the handof Heaven, and never uttered another word. Much doubt has been cast uponthis story, since it comes to us through Normans, who were great enemiesof his house. There is, however, nothing incredible in it; and otherinstances have been known of persons who thus defied and brought uponthemselves the judgment of Heaven, in the full course of their crimes. 

There is a propensity in these days to exalt the character of Godwin, as if he had been an honest supporter of the old English habits againstforeign innovations. It is an entirely mistaken view, since Godwinclimbed into power by the favor of the enemies and destroyers of hiscountry, murdered the prince of the ancient line, and throughout thereign of the lawful successor disturbed his peace, and attempts atcivilization, by factious opposition. Norman customs would have donefar less harm to England than the Danish invaders among whom Godwin hadcontentedly spent the best years of his life. He seems throughout tohave listened only to his own ambition, and to have scrupled at nothingthat could promote his interest. Eloquence, and attention to the humorsof the nation, won for him wealth and power that rendered him formidableto the King, and he built up a great name and fortune for himself, butbrief and fleeting was the inheritance that he bequeathed to his sons. In fourteen years from his death only one of his brave band of sonssurvived, and he was a miserable captive, who spent his whole existencein the dungeons of his chief enemy. It seemed as if nothing that Godwinhad acquired could be enduring, for the very lands he left behind him nolonger exist, his chief estate on the coast of Kent was swallowed by thesea, and now forms the dangerous shoal called the Goodwin Sands. 

"Wise men also die and perish together, as well as the ignorant andfoolish, and leave their riches for other. 

"And yet they think their houses shall continue forever; and that theirdwelling-places shall endure from one generation to another, and callthe lands _after their own names_. "

Far more enduring have been the memorials left by the meek Edward theConfessor, though he had no son to carry on his name. He had vowed, during his exile, to go on pilgrimage to Rome, but the Witenagemotrefused to consent to his leaving England, and he sent the Archbishopof York to ask the advice of the Pope, Leo IX. , who recommended him toperform some work of piety at home. 

This was the foundation of the Church of St. Peter's, in the opencountry, at the west end of London, and therefore called Westminster. Itwas built with all the skill of Norman architects, and occupied severalyears. Edward's last illness prevented him from being present at itsconsecration, and he was represented there by his wife, but he soonfound his rest there. It was dedicated on the Holy Innocents' day, 1065, and he was buried there on the 5th of January following. His memoryseemed to give an additional sacredness to the spot in the eyes of theloving English, and the pavement round his tomb was worn away by theirknees. 

 CAMEO V. 

 THE TWO HAROLDS. (1060-1066. )

 _Kings of England_. 1041. Edward the Confessor. 1066. Harold. 

 _Kings of France_. 1059. Philippe I. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1055. Heinrich IV. 

The death of Godwin did not at first seem likely to diminish the powerof his family. Harold, his eldest surviving son, was highly endowed withmental powers and personal beauty and prowess, and was much preferredby Edward the Confessor to the old Earl himself. He obtained all hisfather's lands, and, shortly after, distinguished himself in a war withthe Welsh, showing, however, that vainglory was his characteristic; forhe set up mounds of stones along the course of his march, bearing theinscription, "Here Harold conquered. "

The earls who had hitherto balanced the power of the Godwin family, were, about this time, removed by death. Leofric, of Mercia, and his sonAlgar, died within a few years of each other; and Algar's sons, Edwinand Morkar, were as yet young and timid. Old Earl Siward Biorn foughthis last battle when he assisted Malcolm Canmore in overthrowing themurderous usurper, Macbeth, in Scotland. In the battle, Siward'seldest-son, of the same name as himself, was killed. The father onlyasked if his death-wound was in front, and when he heard it was, "Iheartily rejoice, " said he; "no other death is worthy of my son. "

He himself was obliged, much against his will, to die in peace. "I amashamed, " he said, "after so many battles, to die like a cow; case mein my armor, gird on my sword, put on my helmet, give me my shield andbattle-axe, lift me to my feet, that I may die like a man!"

The fierce old Earl's younger son, Waltheof, was a mere child, and theearldom of Northumbria was therefore given to Tostig, the son of Godwin, but he so misgoverned it that he was, by command of the King, sent intoexile by his brother Harold, whom he thenceforth regarded with theutmost hatred. 

Harold stood so high in favor, both with King and people, that his viewsbegan to take a still loftier flight, especially after the death ofEdward the Stranger, the only grown-up person excepting the King whoinherited the blood of Alfred. The stranger had indeed left an infantson, but his rights were entirely overlooked. The King wished to leavehis crown to his cousin William, Duke of Normandy; and Harold, trustingto the general hatred of the Norman race, hoped to secure it forhimself, much in the same way as Hugh Capet had lately dethroned theline of Charles le Magne in France. 

Edward the Confessor, desirous of a affording William some means ofcurbing Harold's ambition, sent to him as hostages Ulfnoth and Hako, a son and grandson of Godwin. Harold, however, contrived to extortpermission to go to Rouen, and request their liberation, and set outfrom Bosham, in Sussex. A storm wrecked him in Ponthieu; he was takencaptive by the count of that district, who gave him up to William inexchange for a considerable manor, and thus, though he entered Rouenin state, he found himself, instead of the ambassador of the King ofEngland, in effect the prisoner of the Duke of Normandy. 

He was treated with great courtesy, accompanied William on an expeditionagainst the Duke of Brittany, and gave great help to the Normans byhis personal strength, when some of them were in danger, in crossing ariver, and, apparently, was in high honor; but William was determinednot to miss the advantage chance had thrown in his way; and when Harold, alter spending some months at Rouen, proposed to return, he, in thefirst place, insisted on drawing up a treaty of alliance and friendshipwith his good friend the Earl of Wessex, to be sworn to on both sides. Very distasteful must this promise of friendship have been to Harold, since the first article required him to assist the Duke with all hispower in obtaining the crown of England upon Edward's death; but hefound it impossible to resist, and declared himself perfectly willing toengage himself as required. 

An oath taken on the relics of the Saints was, at that time, consideredas more binding than one taken on the Holy Scriptures; and Williamcommanded that the most honored of these remains should be collectedfrom various churches and placed in a chest, covered with cloth of goldon which a copy of the Gospels was laid. Harold, laying his hand on thebook, swore to observe the treaty faithfully; and when he had so done, William removed the cloth and showed him the relics, at the sight ofwhich he turned pale and trembled--a sure sign, as was thought by theNormans who stood round, that his conscience would not allow him tobreak an oath which was believed to have thus acquired double force andsanctity. Yet Harold soon proved that no oaths can bind a man who willnot be bound by his simple word. 

A few months after his return from Normandy, he was standing by thebedside of the dying Edward the Confessor, importuning his last momentswith entreaties to him to declare his successor. 

"Ye know, full well, " said the poor old King, "that I have bequeathed mykingdom to the Duke of Normandy; nay, some be here who have sworn oathsto him. "

Harold pressed him for some other answer, and he replied, "Take it, Harold, if such be thy will, but the gift will be thy ruin. Against theDuke and his barons no might of thine will avail thee. "

"Fear not for me, " replied Harold, joyfully; "I fear neither Norman, noraught else. "

"May it fall to the most worthy!" was the faint answer of Edward. Histhoughts began to wander, and he uttered many passages of Scripturespeaking of desolation and destruction, which were afterward regarded byhis subjects as the last prophecies of their saintly king. He died twodays afterward, and, on the feast of Epiphany, 1066, Harold assumed thecrown. The coronation was solemnized by Alfred, Archbishop of York; butwhether the absence of the Primate Stigand was occasioned by his disliketo the usurpation, or by the sentence of excommunication under which hehad been laid by the Pope, is not known. Be that as it may, there waslittle joy to welcome the accession of Harold; the people were full ofmelancholy forebodings, excited by the predictions of King Edward, as well as by the appearance of a comet, then supposed to denote theapproach of misfortune; the great earls, Edwin and Morkar, were hisenemies, the nobles envied him, and stood aloof, significantly relatinga story of his boyhood, when he is said to have met with a severe fallin a foolish attempt to fly from the top of a tower with wings of hisown contrivance. There is a Spanish proverb which, in truth, suitedHarold well: "The ant found wings for her destruction. " The bitterest ofall his enemies was his own brother, Tostig, who, having been banishedpartly by his means, on account of his misgovernment of Northumbria, wasliving in Flanders, whence, the instant he heard of Harold's coronation, he hastened with the tidings to Normandy; and not thinking William'spreparations speedy enough to satisfy the impatience of his hatred, hewent to Norway, where he found a willing ally in Harald Hardrada, thelast sea-king. 

A curious story is told of the childhood of this Harald Hardrada, whowas the half-brother of the kingly St. Olaf, being the son of thehaughty Aasta and the peaceful Sigurd Syr. When Harald was about threeyears old, St. Olaf was on a visit to his mother, and calling to hislittle brothers, took the two eldest, Guttorm and Halfdan, one on eachknee, and looked at them, with a fierce countenance, at which both thelittle boys were frightened, and ran away to hide themselves. He thentook Harald on his knee, and put on the same fierce look at him, but thechild looked boldly up in his face in return. As a further trial ofhis courage, the king pulled his hair, upon which the little fellowundauntedly pulled the king's whiskers, and Olaf said, "Thou wilt berevengeful, some day, my friend. "

The next day, Olaf found his little brothers at play; the two eldestbuilding little barns and enclosing cornfields, and Harald lying by theside of a pool of water, in which he was floating small chips of wood. 

"What are these?" asked the king. 

"My ships of war, " said little Harald. 

"Ha! my friend, " said the King, "the time may come when thou wiltcommand ships. "

He then called the other two, and asked Guttorm what he would like bestto have. 

"Corn land, " said he. 

"And how great wouldst thou like thy corn land to be?"

"I would have the whole ness (peninsula) that goes out into the lakesown with corn every summer. "

"And what wouldst thou like best?" he asked of Halfdan. 

"Cows, " said the boy. 

"How many wouldst thou like to have?"

"So many, that when they went to the lake to drink, they should stand astight round the lake as they could stand. "

"That would be a great house-keeping!" said the king; "and now, Harald, what wouldst thou have?" "Followers. "

"And how many of them?"

"Oh, so many as would eat up all Halfdan's cows at a single meal!"

Olaf laughed, and said, "Here, mother, thou art bringing up a king. "

In fact, Guttorm and Halfdan followed the quiet life of their father, but Harald was of far different temper. When Olaf returned from hisexile in Russia, young Harald, who was scarcely fifteen, joined him withall the followers he could muster, and insisted on taking part in thebattle of Stiklestad. 

Olaf told him he was too young; but Harald boldly answered, "I am notso weak but I can handle the sword; and as to that, I have a notionof tying the sword to my hand;" and then the brave boy sung out someverses, composed on the spur of the moment, according to a talent oftenfound among the Northmen, and highly valued:

 "Our army's wing, where I shall stand, I will hold good with heart and hand; My mother's eye shall joy to see, A batter'd, blood-stain'd shield from me. The brave young skald should gaily go Into the fray, change blow for blow; Cheer on his men, gain inch by inch, And from the spear-point never flinch. "

Olaf saw plainly that his high-spirited mother had infused her owntemper into her youngest son as entirely as into himself, and yieldedhis consent that Harald should take part in the battle. It was amournful beginning for a young warrior. Harald beheld the fall of hisnoble brother, and was himself severely wounded. He was led from thefield by a faithful bonder, who hid him in his house; but the spirit ofthe young minstrel warrior was undaunted, and, during his recovery, hesung thus:

 "My wounds were bleeding as I rode, And down the hill the bonders strode, Killing the wounded with the sword, The followers of their rightful lord. From wood to wood I crept along, Unnoticed by the bonder throng; 'Who knows, ' I thought, 'a day may come, My name may yet be great at home. '"

As soon as his wounds were healed, Harald took refuge in Russia, andthence travelled to Constantinople, where he became one of the renownedguards of the Greek Emperor, composed of hired Northmen and Saxons, andcalled Vaeringer, or Varangians, from the word _Wehr_, a defence. Hewent from Constantinople to the Holy Land, bathed in the Jordan, paidhis devotions at Jerusalem, and killed the robbers on the way. Strangestories were told of his adventures at Constantinople, of the EmpressZoe having fallen in love with him, and of his refusal to return heraffection; upon which she raised an accusation against him, that he hadmisapplied the pay of the Vaeringers, and threw him into prison, whence, as the story related, he was freed by a lady, who wascommissioned to rescue him by St. Olaf, his brother, who appeared toher in a dream. She brought him a rope ladder, and he escaped to hisship, broke through the chains that guarded the harbor, and sailednorthward through the Black Sea, composing on his voyage sixteen songsin honor of Elisif, the Russian king's daughter, whom he married on hisarrival at Novogorod. He obtained with her great riches, which he addedto the treasures he had brought from Constantinople. 

St. Olaf's son, Magnus, was reigning in Norway, and Harald Hardradadesigned to obtain from him a portion of the kingdom, to winch, by theold Norwegian law, every descendant of Harald Harfagre had an equalclaim. Harald united with his cousin Swend, who had been dispossessedof an earldom by Magnus, and they advanced together; but Harald wasinclined, if possible, rather to decide the matter by a treaty, thanby force of arms; while Swend, on the other hand, wished for war andrevenge. 

One evening, as the two allies were sitting together, Swend asked Haraldwhat he valued most of all his property. 

"My banner, Land-Waster, " answered Harald. 

"And wherefore?"

"It has always been said that this banner carries victory with it, andso I have ever found it. "

"I will believe in that when thou hast borne it in three battles withthy nephew Magnus, and won them all. "

"I know my kindred with king Magnus, " answered Harald, "without thyrecalling it; and though we are now in arms against him, our meeting maybe of another sort. "

They came to high words, Swend reproaching his ally with breaking hisagreement. Harald distrusted his intentions, and, at night, did not, asusual, sleep in a tent on the deck of his ship, but left a billet ofwood in his place. At midnight a man rowed silently up to the side ofthe ship, crept up to the tent, and struck so violent a blow with hisaxe, that it remained sticking in the wood, while the murderer retiredto his boat, and rowed away in the dark. 

Harald, convinced of this treachery, deserted Swend, and went to joinMagnus, who met him in a friendly manner, and invited him, with sixty ofhis men, to a banquet. 

After the feast, Magnus went round the table, distributing gifts ofrobes and weapons to the sixty men; but when he came to Harald, he heldup two sticks, and asked which of them he would choose. Harald took thenearest, and Magnus declared that therewith he gave up to him half hispower and land in Norway, making him of equal right with himself, andonly reserving the first seat when they should be together at any time. 

Harald sent for all the treasure he had brought home, declaring thatthey would likewise divide their riches; and the gold was weighed out, and placed in two equal heaps, each on an ox-hide. But Magnus had noriches to contribute, for he said that the turmoils in the country hadso impoverished him, that all the gold he possessed was the ring onhis finger, which his father, St. Olaf, had given him at their lastparting. Even this, Harald said, smiling, perhaps belonged rightfullyto him, since it was, at first, the property of his father, Sigurd Syr. However, the two kings parted amicably, and reigned together withoutdisagreements of any consequence, for the remembrance of St. Olaf seemedalways to be a link between his son and brother. Magnus, the more gentleof the two, died just as his uncle had led him to enter on a war ofambition with Swend, King of Denmark. 

Norwegian traditions relate that he dreamt that his father, St. Olaf, appeared to him, saying, "Wilt thou choose, my son, to follow me, or tobecome a long-lived and powerful king, at the cost of a crime that cannever be expiated?"

"Do thou choose for me, father, " he answered. 

"Then follow me, " replied the spirit. 

Magnus awoke, told the dream, sickened, and died, leaving the whole ofNorway to Harald Hardrada, and declaring that it would be just not tomolest Swend in his possession of Denmark. 

Harald reigned prosperously, until, in an evil hour, he received Tostig, the son of Godwin, and listened to his invitation to come and invadeEngland, and revenge him on his brother Harold. He fitted out a greatarmament, sailed up the Humber, plundered and burnt Scarborough, defeated the young earls of Mercia and Northumberland, and summoned Yorkto surrender. 

The citizens, dreading an assault, promised to yield the next day; and, accordingly, early in the morning, Hardrada, Tostig and a small band offollowers, set out from their camp at Stamford Bridge, on the banks ofthe Ouse, to receive the keys. The day was bright and warm, though latein September, and the Northmen had left behind them their shirts ofmail, and only bore sword, shield, and helmet; even Harald himself hadleft behind his hawberk Emma, and only wore a blue robe embroidered withgold, and a rich helmet. 

As they were approaching the city, they suddenly beheld a cloud of dust, and beneath it the glitter of armor, glancing, as the Norwegians said, like sparkling ice. As they came nearer, they could distinguish the reddragon standard of Wessex, proving that there was the king whom theyhad supposed to be far away on the south coast, watching to prevent thelanding of William of Normandy. 

Though taken by surprise, outnumbered, and half-armed, Hardrada did notlose courage. He sent messengers to summon the rest of his men, andplanting in the midst his banner, Land-Waster, ranged his troops roundit in a circle, with the ends of their spears resting on the ground, andthe points turned outward. 

Twenty horsemen, in full armor, advanced from the Saxon army, and one ofthem, riding close up to the circle, called out, "Where is Earl Tostig, the son of Godwin?"

"He is here!" replied Tostig. 

"Thy brother salutes thee, offers thee peace, his friendship, and theEarldom of Northumbria; nay, rather than not be friends with thee, hewould give thee the third of his kingdom. "

"If he had held this language a year ago, " replied Tostig, who knew thespeaker but too well, "he would have saved the lives of many men. Butwhat will he offer my noble ally, King Harold Sigurdson?"

"Seven feet of English earth, " answered the horseman, proudly scanningthe gigantic figure of the Sea-King, "or maybe a little more. "

"Then, " said Tostig, "King Harold, my brother, may prepare for battle. Never shall it be said that the son of Godwin forsook the son ofSigurd. " It must have been a strange look that passed between those twobrothers, thus on the verge of a deadly strife, each surrounded withdangers that could scarcely be averted, and but of late actuated withbitter hate, but, at the decisive moment, that hatred giving way, andtheir hearts yearning to each other, with the memories of long-pastdays, yet both too proud to show how they were mutually touched, too farpledged to their separate parties to follow the impulse that would havedrawn them once together in love. It was too late; the battle must befought--the brothers' deeds had decided their lot. 

The Saxon horseman rode off, and the Norwegian King asked, who was theman who had been speaking so well. 

"It was King Harold Godwinson, " said Tostig. 

"Why did I not learn this sooner?" said Hardrada. "He should never havehad to boast of the slaughter of our men. "

"It may have been imprudent, " said Tostig, "but he was willing to grantme peace and a great dominion. If one of us must die, I had rather heshould slay me, than I slay him. "

So spoke Tostig, who had, of late, been rushing from country to countryto stir up foes against his brother. Surely he would have given worldsto check the ruin he had wrought, though his sense of honor would notallow him to forsake his ally. 

"He is but a little man, but he sits firmly in his stirrups, " returnedHarald Hardrada; and then, to cheer his men in their desperate case, hechanted aloud one of his impromptu war-songs:

 "Advance, advance, The helmets glance; But blue swords play In our array. 

 "Advance, advance, No hawberks glance-- But hearts are here That know no fear. "

"These verses sound but ill, " said the Sea-King, interrupting himself;"we will make some better;" and, careful of his verses as a Skald in hislast battle, as well as in his first, he sung:

 "In battle morn we seek no lee, With skulking head and bending knee, Behind the hollow shield; With eye and hand we guard the head, Courage and promptness stand instead, Of hawberk, on this field. "

It was his death-song. Early in the battle his throat was pierced by anarrow; and learning his death, Harold Godwinson sent once more to offerTostig pardon, and leave to the Northmen to return home; but theyrefused quarter, and Tostig would not forsake them. The other Northmenfrom the ships joined them, and the fight raged with more fury thanever in the "death-ring, " as the Skalds termed it, round the bannerLand-Waster. Tostig fell there, and only a few fled to their ships, protected by a brave Norseman, who stood alone to guard Stamford bridge, then only consisting of a few planks, till an Englishman crept under, thrust up his spear, and slew him from below. 

However, Harold's condition was too critical to allow of his wastinghis strength on a defeated foe; he allowed Hardrada's son to returnunmolested to Norway with his fleet and the remains of his army, and hegave great offence to his men by not sharing the plunder of the campwith them. 

So died the last of the Sea-Kings, by the last Anglo-Saxon victory. 

 CAMEO VI. 

 THE NORMAN INVASION. (1066. )

The Duke of Normandy seems to have considered himself secure of the fairrealm of England, by the well-known choice of Edward the Confessor, andwas reckoning on the prospects of ruling there, where the language andhabits of his race were already making great progress. 

On a winter day, however, early in 1066, as William, cross-bow in hand, was hunting in the forests near Rouen, a horseman galloped up to him andgave him, in a low voice, the information that his cousin, King Edwardof England, was dead, and that Earl Harold of Kent had been crowned inhis stead. 

With fierce rage were these tidings given, for the bearer of them wasno other than Tostig, who attempted to bring the Normans against hisbrother, before seeking the aid of Harald Hardrada in the north. 

No less was the ire of the Norman Duke excited, but he was of too sternand reserved a nature to allow his wrath to break out at once intowords. Sport, however, was at an end for him; he threw down hiscross-bow, and walked out of the forest, his fine but hard featuresbearing so dark and gloomy an expression, that no one dared to ask whathad disturbed him. 

Without a word, he entered the castle, and there strode up and down thehall, his hands playing with the fastenings of his cloak, until suddenlythrowing himself on a bench, he drew his mantle over his face, turned itto the wall, and became lost in deep musings. 

His knights stood round, silent and perplexed, till a voice was heardhumming a tune at a little distance, and the person entered who, morethan any other, shared the counsels of Duke William, namely, WilliamFitzosborn, Count de Breteuil, son of that Osborn the seneschal who hadbeen murdered in the Duke's chamber. 

The two Williams were of the same age, had been brought up together, and Fitzosborn now enjoyed the office of seneschal, and was on a moreintimate footing with his lord than any other was admitted to by thedark and reserved prince. All the knights gathered round him to ask whatailed the Duke. 

"Ah!" said he, "you will soon hear news that will not please you;" andas William, roused by his voice, sat up on the bench, he continued:"Sir, why hide what troubles you? It is rumored in the town that theKing of England is dead, and that Harold has broken his faith, andseized the realm. "

"You are right, " replied the Duke. "I am grieved at the death of KingEdward, and at the wrong Harold has done me. "

Fitzosborn answered with such counsels as his master would best bepleased to hear. "Sir, no one should grieve over what cannot be undone, far less over what may be mended. There is no cure for King Edward'sdeath, but there is a remedy for Harold's evil deeds. You have warlikevassals; he has an unjust cause. What needs there, save a good heart?for what is well begun, is half done. "

William's wishes lay in the direction his friend pointed out, but he waswary, and weighed his means before undertaking the expedition against sopowerful and wealthy a state as England. His resources seemed as nothingin comparison with those of England; his dukedom was but a petty state, himself a mere vassal; and though he had reason to hope that the Englishwere disaffected toward Harold, yet, on the other hand, he was notconfident of the support of his own vassals--wild, turbulent men, onlykept in cheek by his iron rule, without much personal attachment to oneso unbending and harsh, and likely to be unwilling to assist in hispersonal aggrandizement. 

He paused and calculated, waiting so long that Tostig, in hisimpatience, went to Norway, and tried to find a prompter for Harold. Messages in the meantime passed between Normandy and England withouteffect. William claimed the performance of the oaths at Rouen, andHarold denied any obligation to him, offering to be his ally if he wouldrenounce the throne, but otherwise defying him as an enemy. 

Having at length decided, William summoned his vassals to meet atLillebonne, and requested their aid in asserting his right to theEnglish Crown. 

When he left them to deliberate, all with one consent agreed that theywould have nothing to do with foreign expeditions. What should theygain? The Duke had no right to ask their feudal service for aught butguarding their own frontier. Fitzosborn should he the spokesman, andexplain the result of their parliament. 

In came the Duke, and Fitzosborn, standing forth, spoke thus: "Never, mylord, were men so zealous as those you see here. They will serve you astruly beyond sea as in Normandy. Push forward, and spare them not. Hewho has hitherto furnished one man-at-arms, will equip two; he who hasled twenty knights, will bring forty. I myself offer you sixty shipswell filled with fighting men. "

Fitzosborn was stopped by a general outcry of indignation and dissent, and the assembly tumultuously dispersed; but not one of the vassals wasallowed to quit Lillebonne till after a private conference with William, and determined as they might be when altogether, yet not a count orbaron of them all could withstand the Duke when alone with him; and itended in their separately engaging to do just as Fitzosborn had promisedfor them; and going home to build ships from their woods, choose out themost stalwart villains on their estates to be equipped as men-at-armsand archers, to cause their armorers to head the cloth-yard shafts, repair the hawberks of linked chains of steel, and the high-pointedhelmets, as yet without visors, and the face only guarded by aprojection over the nose. Every one had some hope of advantage to begained in England; barons expected additional fiefs, peasants intendedto become nobles, and throughout the spring preparations went onmerrily; the Duchess Matilda taking part in them, by causing a vessel tobe built for the Duke himself, on the figure-head of which was carved alikeness of their youngest son William, blowing an ivory horn. 

William, in the meantime, sought for allies in every quarter, beginningwith writing to beg the sanction of the Pope, Alexander II. , as Harold'sperjury might be considered an ecclesiastical offence. 

The Saxons were then in no favor at Rome; they had refused to accepta Norman Primate appointed by Edward; and Stigand, their chosenArchbishop, was at present suspended by the Court of Rome, for havingobtained his office by simony: the whole Anglo-Saxon Church was reportedto be in a very bad and corrupt state, and besides, Rome had neverenjoyed the power and influence there that the Normans had permittedher. Lanfranc, Abbot, of St. Stephens, at Caen, and one of the personsmost highly esteemed by William, was an Italian of great repute at Rome, and thus everything conspired to make the Pope willing to favor theattempt upon England. 

He therefore returned him a Bull (a letter so called from the goldenbull, or bulla, appended to it), appointing him, as the champion ofthe Church, to chastise the impious perjurer Harold, and sent him aconsecrated banner, and a gold ring containing a relic of St. Peter. 

Thus sanctioned, William applied to his liege lord Philippe I. OfFrance, offering to pay homage for England as well as Normandy; butPhilippe, a dull, heavy, indolent man, with no love for his greatvassal, refused him any aid; and William, though he made the applicationfor form's sake, was well pleased to have it so. 

"If I succeed, " he said, "I shall be under the fewer obligations. "

When he requested aid from Matilda's brother Baldwin, Count of Flanders, the answer he received was a query, how much land in England he wouldallot as a recompense. He sent, in return, a piece of blank parchment;but others say, that instead of being an absolute blank, it containedhis signature, and was filled up by Baldwin, with the promise of apension of three hundred marks. 

Everything was at length in readiness; nine hundred ships, or ratherlarge open boats, were assembled at the mouth of the Dive; lesser barkscame in continually, and counts, barons, and knights, led in theirtrains of horsemen and archers. 

All William's friends were round him, and his two half-brothers, thesons of Arlette, Robert, Count of Eu, and Odo, the warlike Bishop ofBayeux. Matilda was to govern in his absence, and his eldest son, Robert, a boy of thirteen, was brought forward, and received the homageof the vassals, in order that he might be owned as heir of Normandy, incase any mishap should befall his father on the expedition. 

Nothing delayed the enterprise but adverse winds, and these prevailed solong that the feudal army had nearly exhausted their forty days' stockof provisions; knight and man-at-arms murmured, and the Duke wascontinually going to pray in the Church of St. Valery, looking up at theweathercock every time he came out. 

On the eve of St. Michael, the Duke's anxious face became cheerful, fora favorable wind had set in, and the word was given to embark. Horseswere led into the ships, the shields hung round the gunwale, and thewarriors crowded in, the Duke, in his own Mora, leading the way, thePope's banner at his mast's head, and a lantern at the stern to guidethe rest. 

By morning, however, he outstripped all the fleet, and the sailor at themast-head could see not one; but gradually first one sail, then another, came in sight, and by the evening of Michaelmas-day, 1066, the wholenine hundred were bearing, down upon Pevensey. 

Those adverse winds had done Willium more favor than he guessed, forthey had delayed him till Harold had been obliged to quit his post ofobservation in Sussex, and go to oppose the Northmen at York, and thusthere was no one to interfere with the landing of the Normans, whodisembarked as peacefully at Pevensey as if it had been Rouen itself. 

William was almost the first to leap on shore; but as he did so, hisfoot slipped, and he fell. Rising, with his hands full of mud, he calledout, "Here have I taken possession of the land which by God's help Ihope to win!" Catching his humor, one of his knights tore a handful ofthatch from a neighboring cottage, and put it into his hand, saying, "Sir, I give you seizin of this place, and promise that I shall see youlord of it before a month is past. "

The troops were landed first, then the horses, and lastly thecarpenters, who set up at once three wooden forts, which had beenbrought in the ships prepared to be put together. After dinner, Williamordered all the ships to be burnt, to cut off all hope of return. Hecontinued for several days at Pevensey, exercising the troops: andviewing the country. In one of these expeditions, he gave, what wasthought, a remarkable proof of strength; for on a hot day, as they weremounting a steep hill, Fitzosborn grew faint and exhausted by the weightof his ponderous iron hawberk. The Duke bade him take it off, andputting it on over his own, climbed the hill and returned to his campwearing both at once. 

His landing, though he saw no one, had in reality been watched by aSouth-Saxon Thane, who, having counted Ins ships and seen his array, mounted, and, without resting day or night, rode to York, where, asHarold was dining, two days after the battle of Stamford Bridge, herushed into the hall, crying out, "The Normans are come! they have builta fort at Pevensey!"

No time was to be lost, and at the dawn Harold and all his army weremarching southward, sending a summons to the thanes and franklins ofeach county as he passed, to gather to the defence of the country. 

His speed was too great, however, for the great mass of the people to beable to join him, even if they had been so minded, and they were forthe most part disposed to take no part in the struggle, following theexample of the young Earls of Mercia, Edwin and Morkar, who held aloof, unwilling alike to join Harold or the Normans. 

When Harold reached London, his army was so much lessened by fatigue anddesertion, that his mother, Gytha, and his two youngest brothers, Gyrthaand Leofwyn, advised him not to risk a battle, but to lay the countrywaste before the Normans, and starve them out of England. Haroldanswered, with the generous spirit that had been defaced and clouded byhis ambition, "Would you have me ruin my kingdom? By my faith, it weretreason. I will rather try the chances of a battle with such men as Ihave, and trust to my own valor and the goodness of my cause. "

"Yet, " said Gyrtha, "if it be so, forbear thyself to fight. Eitherwillingly or under force, thou art sworn to Duke William. Thine oathwill weigh down thine arm in battle, but we, who are all unpledged, are free to fight in defence of our realm. Thou wilt aid us if we aredefeated, avenge us if we are slain. "

Harold disregarded this advice, and was resolved to lead the hosthimself; he gathered his followers from Kent and Wessex, and marchedsouthward. 

 CAMEO VII. 

 THE BATTLE OF HASTINGS. (1066. )

The first night after leaving London, Harold slept at Waltham Abbey, andhad much conference with the Abbot, who was his friend, and appointedtwo Monks, named Osgood and Ailric, to attend him closely in the comingbattle. 

On the 12th of October, Harold found himself seven miles from theenemy, and halted his men on Heathfield-hill, near Hastings, the mostadvantageous ground he could find. 

On the highest point he planted his standard bearing the figure of aman in armor, and marshalling his Saxons round it, commanded them toentrench themselves within a rampart and ditch, and to plant within thema sort of poles, on the upper part of which, nearly the height of a manfrom the ground, they interwove a fence of wattled branches, so thatwhile the front rank might pass under to man the rampart, the rear mightbe sheltered from the arrows of the enemy. 

These orders given, Harold and Gyrtha rode together to a hill, whencethey beheld the Norman camp, when for a moment Harold was so alarmedat the number of their tents that he spoke of returning to London andacting as his mother had advised; but Gyrtha showed him that it was toolate; he could not turn back from the very face of the enemy, withoutbeing supposed to fly, and thus yielding his kingdom at once. 

Three Saxons presently came to the brothers who had been seized as spiesby the Normans, and, by order of William, led throughout his camp, andthen sent away to report what they had seen. Their story was that theNorman soldiers were all Priests, at which Harold laughed, since theyhad been deceived by the short-cut locks and smooth chins of theNormans, such as in England were only worn by ecclesiastics, warriorsalways wearing flowing locks and thick moustaches. 

Several messages passed between the two camps, William sending offersof honors and wealth to Harold and Gyrtha if they would cease theirresistance; but when all were rejected, he sent another herald to defyHarold as a perjured traitor under the ban of the Church;--a declarationwhich so startled the Saxons, that it took strong efforts on the part ofthe gallant Gyrtha to inspirit them to stand by his brother. 

This over, William addressed his soldiers from a little hillock, andput on his armor, hanging-round his neck, as a witness of Harold'sfalsehood, one of the relics on which the oath had been taken. Hechanced to put on his hawberk with the wrong side before, and seeingsome of his men disconcerted, fancying this a token of ill, he told themthat it boded that his dukedom should be turned to a kingdom. 

His horse was a beautiful Spanish barb sent him by the King of Castile;and so gallantly did he ride, that there was a shout of delight from hismen, and a cry, "Never was such a Knight under Heaven! A fair Count heis, and a fair king he will be! Shame on him who fails him!"

William held in his hand the Pope's banner, and called for thestandard-bearer of Normandy; but no one liked to take the charge, fearful of being hindered from gaining distinction by feats of personalprowess. Each elder knight of fame begged to be excused, and at lastit was committed to Tunstan the White, a young man probably so calledbecause he had yet to win an achievement for his spotless shield. 

The army was in three troops, each drawn up in the form of a wedge, thearchers forming the point; and the reserve of horse was committed toBishop Odo, who rode up and down among the men, a hawberk over hisrochet and a club in his hand. 

On went the Normans in the light of the rising sun of the 13th ofOctober, Taillefer, a minstrel-knight, riding first, playing on his harpand singing the war-song of Roland the Paladin. At seven o'clock theywere before the Saxon camp, and Fitzosborn and the body under hiscommand dashed up the hill, under a cloud of arrows, shouting, "NotreDame! Dieu aide!" while the Saxons within, crying out, "Holy Rood!" cutdown with their battle-axes all who gained the rampart, and at lengthdrove them back again. 

A second onset was equally unsuccessful, and William, observing that thewattled fence protected the Saxons from the arrows, ordered the archersto shoot their arrows no longer point blank, but into the sky, so thatthey might fall on the heads of the Saxons. Thus directed, these shaftsharassed the defenders grievously; and Harold himself was pierced in theleft eye, and almost disabled from further exertion in the command. 

Yet at noon, the Normans had been baffled at every quarter, and William, growing desperate, led a party to attack the entrance of the camp. Againhe was repulsed, and driven back on some rough ground, where many horsesfell, and among them his own Spanish charger. A cry arose that the Dukewas slain; the Normans fled, the Saxons broke out of their camp inpursuit, when William, throwing off his helmet and striking with hislance, recalled his troops, shouting, "Look at me! I live, and by Godsgrace I will conquer. " All the Saxons who had left the camp were slain, their short battle-axes being unfit to cope with the heavy swords andlong lances of their enemies; and taught by this success, William causedsome of his troops to feign a flight, draw them beyond the rampart, turnon them, and cut them down. The manoeuvre was repeated at different partsof the camp till the rampart was stripped of defenders, and theNormans forced their way into it, cut down the wattled fence, and gaveadmittance to the host of horse and foot who rushed over the outworks. 

Yet still the standard floated in the midst of a brave band who--

 "Though thick the shafts as snow. Though charging knights like whirlwinds go, Though bill-men ply the ghastly blow, Still fought around their King. "

All who came near that close-serried ring of steadfast Saxon strengthwere cut down, and the piles of dead Normans round them were becomingramparts, when twenty knights bound themselves by an oath that thestandard should be taken, spurred their horses against the ranks, and bymain force, with the loss of ten of their number, forced an opening. Erethe ranks could close, William and his whole force were charging intothe gap made for a moment, trampling down the brave men, slaughtering onall sides, yet still unable to break through to the standard. 

 "Till utter darkness closed her wing O'er their thin host and wounded King. "

Man by man the noble Saxons were hewn down as the Normans cut their waythrough them, no more able to drive them back than if they had been thetrees of the forest. Gyrtha, the true-hearted and noble, fell under thesword of a Norman knight, Leofwyn lay near him in his blood, yet stillHarold's voice was heard cheering on his men, and still his standardstreamed above their heads. 

At sunset, that well-known voice was no longer heard, and the settingsun beheld Tunstan the White perform the crowning achievement of theday, uproot the standard banner of Normandy that the morning beams hadseen committed to his charge. Not an earl or thane of Wessex was living;and heaps of slain lay thick on Heathfield hill, and the valley round avery lake of blood. Senlac, or Sanglac, was its old name, and soundedbut too appropriate to the French ears of the Conqueror, as, in a momentof sorrow for the fearful loss of life he beheld, he vowed that hereshould stand an Abbey where prayer should be made for pardon for hissins and for the repose of the souls of the slaughtered. Darkness cameon; but the Saxons, retreating under its cover, were still so undauntedthat the Normans could hardly venture to move about the field except inconsiderable parties, and Eustace of Boulogne, while speaking to theDuke, was felled to the earth by a sudden blow. 

In the morning, Gytha, the widow of Godwin, who had lost four childrenby the perjury and ambition of one of them, came to entreat permissionto bury. Gyrtha and Leofwyn lay near together at the foot of the banner. Harold was sought in vain, till Edith of the Swan neck, a lady he hadloved, was brought to help in the melancholy quest. 

She declared a defaced and mangled corpse to be that of Harold, and itwas carried, with those of the two brothers, to the Abbey of Waltham, where it was placed beneath a stone bearing the two sorrowful words, "Infelix Harold. "

Years passed on, and the people had long become accustomed to the Normanyoke, when there was much talk among them of a hermit, who dwelt in acell not far from the town, in the utmost penitence and humility. He wasseldom seen, his face was deeply scarred, and he had lost his left eye, and nothing was known of his name or history; but he was deeply reveredfor his sanctity, and when Henry Beauclerc once visited Chester, hesought a private interview with the mysterious penitent. 

It is said, that when the hermit lay on his death-bed, he owned himselfto be Harold, son of Godwin, once King of England for seven months. Hehad been borne from the bloody hill, between life and death, in thedarkness of the evening, by the two faithful monks, Osgood and Ailric, and tended in secret till he recovered from his wounds. 

Since that time he had been living in penitence and contrition, unknownto and apart from the world, and died at length, trusting that his fortyyears' repentance might be accepted. 

If this tale be true, what a warning might not he have bestowed onthe young prince Henry, destined to run a like course of perjury andambition, and to feel it turn back upon him in the dreariness ofdesolate old age, when "he never smiled again. " Had not the penitentHarold more peace at the last than the king Henry?

The same story is told of almost every king missed in a lost battle. 

Arthur, borne away to die at Avalon, and believed to be among thefairies; Rodrigo, the last of the Goths, whose steed Orelio and hornedhelmet lay on the banks of the river, and whose name was found centuriesafter on a rude gravestone, near a hermitage; James IV. , whom the Scotsby turns hoped to see return from pilgrimage, and pitied as they lookedat Lord Home's border tower; the gallant Don Sebastian, the last of theglorious race of Portuguese Kings, never seen after his shout of "Letus die!" in the tumult of Alcaçer, yet long looked for by his lovingpeople--of each in turn the belief has arisen among the subjects whoclung to the hope of seeing the beloved prince, and dwelt on thedoubt whether his corpse was identified. In the cases of Harold andRodrigo--generous men tempted into fearful and ruinous crimes--one wouldhope the tale was true, and that the time for repentance was vouchsafedto them; nor are their stories entirely without authority. 

Harold had three young children, who wandered about under the care oftheir grandmother, Gytha, at one time finding a shelter in the Holms, those two islets in the British Channel, at another taking refuge inIreland, whence they at length escaped to Norway, and the daughtermarried one of the Kings of Novgorod, the beginning of the Empire ofRussia. Ulfnoth, the only remaining son of the bold Godwinsons, was thehostage that Edward the Confessor had placed in the hands of the Duke ofNormandy; he was seized upon once more by William Rufus, and remained incaptivity till his death. The Conqueror kept his vow, and erected thesplendid Battle Abbey on the field that gave him a kingdom. The highaltar stood where Harold's banner had been planted, and the enclosuressurrounded every spot where the conflict had raged. 

They were measured out by the corpses of Normans and Saxons. TheBattle-roll, a list of every Norman who had borne arms there, was lodgedin the keeping of the Abbot, and contains the names of many a good oldEnglish family which has held the same land generation after generation, English now, though then called the Norman spoiler, but it is to befeared, that the roll was much tampered with to gratify family vanity. Battle Abbey was one of the greatest and richest foundations. The Abbotwas a friar, and, according to the unfortunate habit of exemptingmonasteries from the Bishop's jurisdiction, was subject to no governmentbut the Pope's; and this led to frequent disputes between the Abbot andthe see of Winchester. 

It was overthrown in the Reformation, and is now a mere ruin; but itsbeautiful arches still remain to show that, better than any otherconqueror, William knew how to honor a battle-field. There is but oneother Battle Abbey in the world--Batalha in Portugal--which covers theplain of Aljubarota, where Joao I. Won his kingdom from Castile; and ashis wife was a daughter of John of Gaunt, a most noble and high-mindedprincess, it is most probable that she suggested the work after theexample of her great ancestor; nay, when the visitor enters the nave, and is reminded by the architecture of Winchester, it seems as ifPhilippa of Lancaster might have both proposed the foundation, andsent to England for the plan, to the Architect and Bishop, William ofWykeham. 

Nor is Battle Abbey the only remaining monument of Hastings. Matilda'sown handiwork prepared her thank offering of tapestry, recording herhusband's victory; and this work, done as it was for a gift to Heaven, not a vainglorious record, still endures in the very cathedral to whichshe gave it, one of the choicest historical witnesses that have comedown to our times. We might be apt to regret that she did not presenther work to Battle Abbey, where it would have been most appropriate;but as the Puritans would most likely have called it a Popish vestmentsavoring of idolatry, we are consoled by thinking it probably owes itspreservation to her having chosen to give it as a hanging on festivaldays to the Cathedral at Bayeux, the see of her husband's half-brother, Odo, who shared in all the toils and dangers of the expedition, andwhom she has taken especial care to represent for the benefit of thetownspeople of Bayeux; for wherever we find his broad face, largeperson, shaven crown, and the chequered red and green suit by which sheexpressed his wadded garment, his name is always found in large letters;and he is evidently in his full glory when we find him, club in hand, at the beginning of the battle, and these words worked round him: _OdoEps. _ (episcopus) _baculum tenens, confortat pueros_. He was one ofthe bad, warlike Bishops of those irregular times, and brought manydisasters on himself by his turbulence and haughtiness. 

Matilda's tapestry is a long narrow strip, little more than half ayard in breadth. It begins with Harold's journey to Normandy, and endsunfinished in the midst of the battle; and most curious it is. Thedrawing is of course rude, and the coloring very droll, the horses beingred and green, or blue, and, invariably, the off-leg of a differentcolor from the other three, while the ways in which both horses and menfall at Hastings make the scene very diverting. 

Her castles, houses, and more especially Westminster Abbey, are of allthe colors in the rainbow, and much smaller than the persons enteringthem, and yet in every figure there is spirit, in every face expression, and throughout, William, Harold, and Odo, bear countenances which arenot to be mistaken. Harold has moustaches, which none of the Normanswore. There we find Harold taking his extorted oath; the death of KingEdward, the Saxons gazing with horror at the three-tailed comet; theship-building of yellow, green, and red boards, cut out of treeswith most ludicrous foliage; the moon just as it is described; thedisembarkation, where a bare-legged mariner wades out, anchor in hand;the very comical foraging party; the repast upon landing, where Odo issaying grace with two fingers raised in benediction, while the meat isserved on shields, and fowls carried round spitted upon arrows. Thenfollows the battle, where William is seen raising his helmet by itsnose-guard, and looking exceedingly fierce as he rallies his men; wherehorses and men tumble head over heels, and where, finally, Matilda brokeoff with a pattern of hawberks traced out, and no heads or legs putto them. What stayed her hand? Was it her grief at the conduct of herfirst-born that took from her all heart to proceed with her memorial, or was it only the hand of death that closed her toil, her womanlyrecord of her husband's achievements?

The border must not be forgotten. It is a narrow edge above and below. At first it is worked with subjects from Phaedrus's fables (on havingtranslated which was rested the fame of Henry's scholarship), and verycleverly are they chosen; for, as if in comment on Harold's visit toRouen, we find in near neighborhood the stork with her head in thewolf's mouth, and the crow letting fall her cheese into the fox's jaws. 

Matilda did not upbraid the Normans by working the Parliament ofLillebonne, but she or her designer surely had it in mind when a herd offrightened beasts was drawn, an ape in front of them making an orationto what may be a lion, as it is much bigger than the rest; but asMatilda never saw a lion, the likeness is not remarkable. 

Further on are representations of agriculture, sowing, reaping, &c. Wherever there is a voyage, fishes swim above and below, and in thebattle there is a border plentiful in dead men. 

The Bayeux tapestry--the "Toile de St. Jean, " as it is there called, from the feast-day when the cathedral was hung with it--remained unknownand forgotten, till it was brought to light by one of the last peoplethat could have been expected--Napoleon. He was then full of his planfor invading England, and called general attention to the toile de St. Jean, to bring to mind the Norman Invasion, and show that England hadonce been conquered. 

So she had, but he had to deal with the sons of both victors, and ofthose who were slain. Now vanquished, Norman and Saxon were one, and bythe great mercy of Heaven upon their offspring, the English, not onebattle has been fought, since Hastings, with a Continental foe uponEnglish ground. 

May that mercy be still vouchsafed us!

 CAMEO VIII. 

 THE CAMP OF REFUGE. (1067-1072. )

 _King of England_. 1066. William I. 

In the fen country of Lincolnshire, there lived, in the reign of Edwardthe Confessor, a wealthy Saxon franklin named Leofric, Lord of Bourn. He was related to the great Earls of Mercia, and his brother Brand wasAbbot of Peterborough, so that he, and his wife Ediva, were persons ofconsideration in their own neighborhood. They had a son named Hereward, and called, for some unknown, reason, Le Wake, a youth of great heightand personal strength, and of so fierce and violent a disposition, thathe disturbed the peace of the neighborhood to such a degree that he wasbanished from the realm. His high spirit found fit occupation in thearmies of foreign princes: and pilgrims and minstrels brought home suchreports of his prowess, that the people of Bourn no longer regarded himas a turbulent young scapegrace, but considered him as their pride andglory. 

After a brilliant career abroad, Hereward married a Flemish lady, andwas settled on her estates when the tidings reached him that his fatherwas dead, and that his aged mother had been despoiled of her property, and cruelly treated, by a Norman to whom William the Conquerorhad presented the estate of Bourn. No sooner did he receive thisintelligence, than he set off with his wife, and, arriving inLincolnshire, communicated in secret with his old friends at Bourn, collected a small band, attacked the Norman, drove him away, andre-instated Ediva in his paternal home. 

But this exploit only exposed him to further perils. Normans were inpossession of every castle around; his cousins, the young Earls Edwinfind Morkar, had submitted to the Conqueror; Edwin was betrothed toAgatha, William's daughter; and their sister Lucy was married to anAngevin named Ivo Taillebois bringing him a portion of their lands, inright of which he called himself Viscount of Spalding. Their submissionhad availed them little; they, as well as Waltheof, Earl of Huntingdon(son of Siward, and husband of the Conqueror's niece, Judith), werefeeling that a hand of iron was over them, and regretting every daythat he had not made common cause against the enemy before he hadfully established his power. Selfishness, jealousy, and wavering, hadoverthrown and ruined the Saxons. Each had sought to secure his ownlands and life, careless of his neighbors. No one had the spirit ofFrithric, Abbot of St. Alban's, who blocked up the Conqueror's marchwith trunks of trees, and when asked by William why he had injured hiswoods for the sake of making an unavailing resistance, replied, "Idid my duty. If every one had done as much, you would not be here. "According to their own tradition, the men of Kent, coming forward, eachcarrying a branch of a tree, so that they advanced unperceived, "amoving wood, " so encumbered William's passage that he could not proceedtill he had taken an oath to respect their privileges. London, too, preserved its rights, owing to the management of a burgess, calledAnsgard, who conducted the treaty with the Normans and would not admitthem into the city till its liberties were secured. 

William himself was anxious to be regarded not as a conqueror, but asreigning by inheritence from the Confessor. For this cause, when Matildawas crowned, he caused a Norman baron, Marmion of Fontenaye, to rideinto the midst of Westminster Hall, and, throwing down his gauntlet, defy any man to single combat who denied the rights of William andMatilda. He himself took the old coronation oath drawn up by St. Dunstan, and pledged himself to execute justice according to the oldlaws of Alfred and Edward. 

But William, whatever might be his own good intentions, was pressed bycircumstances. He had lured his Normans across the channel with hopes ofrich plunder in England, and knight and squire, man-at-arms and archer, were eager for their reward. Norman, Breton, Angevin, clamored forpossession: families of peasants crossed the sea, expecting, in rightof their French tongue, to be gentry at once, and lords of the churlSaxons; while the Saxons, fully conscious of their own nobility, andpossessors of the soil for five hundred years, derided them in suchrhymes as these:

 "William de Coningsby Came out of Brittany With his wife Tiffany, And his maid Manfas, And his dog Hardigras. "

But the laugh proved to be on the side of the new comers, and the Saxon, whether Earl, Thane, Franklin, or Ceorl, though he could trace his lineup to Odin, and had held his land since Hengist first won Thanet, mustgive place to Hardigras and his master. And though our sympathies areall with the dispossessed Saxons, and the Normans appear as needy andrapacious spoilers, there is no cause for us to lament their coming. Without the Norman aristocracy, and the high spirit of chivalry andadventure thus infused, England could scarcely have attained hergreatness; for, though many great men had existed among the unmixedAnglo-Saxon race, they had never been able to rouse the nation from theheavy, dull, stolid sensuality into which, to this day, an uncultivatedEnglishman is liable to fall. 

One Norman, the gallant Gilbert Fitz-Richard, deserves to be rememberedas an exception to the grasping temper of his countrymen. He wouldaccept neither gold nor lands for the services he had rendered atHastings. He said he had come in obedience to the summons of his feudalchief, and not for spoil, and, now his term of service was at an end, hewould go back to his own inheritance, with which he was content, withoutthe plunder of the widow and orphan. 

For it was thus that William first strove to satisfy his followers. Every rich Saxon widow or heiress who could be found was compelledto marry a Norman baron or knight; but when there proved to be not asufficiency of these unfortunate ladies, he was obliged to find otherpretexts less apparently honorable. Every noble who had fought in thecause of Harold was declared a traitor, and his lands adjudged to beforfeited, and this filled the Earldoms of Wessex and Sussex with greatnumbers of Normans, who counted their wealth at so many Englishmenapiece, and made no scruple of putting their own immediate followersinto the manors whence they thrust the ancient owners. As to the greatnobles, they were treated so harshly that they were all longing, ifpossible, to throw off the yoke, and make the stand which they shouldhave made a year ago, when William had won nothing but the single, hard-fought battle of Hastings. 

Some of the Norman adventurers took great state on them, all the more, probably, because they had been nobodies in their own country. One ofthe most haughty of all was the Spalding Viscount, Ivo, whose surname ofTaillebois seems to betray somewhat of his origin in Anjou. He wasnoted for his pompous language and insolent bearing; he insisted on hisvassals kneeling on one knee when they addressed him, and he and hismen-at-arms took every opportunity of tormenting the Saxons. He sethis dogs at their flocks, lamed or drowned their cattle, killed theirpoultry, and, above all, harassed a few brethren of the Abbey ofCroyland, who inhabited a grange not far from Spalding, to such adegree, that he obliged them at last to retreat to the Abbey, and thenfilled the house with monks from Anjou; and though the Abbot Ingulf wasWilliam's secretary, he could obtain no redress. 

Such a neighbor as this was not likely to allow the re-instated Ediva toremain at Bourn in peace, and Hereward found that he must continue inarms, for her protection and his own. He placed his wife, Torfrida, ina convent, and, collecting his friends around him, kept up a constantwarfare with the Normans, until at length he succeeded in fortifying theIsle of Ely, and establishing there what he called the Camp of Refuge, as it gave shelter to any Saxon who had suffered from the violence ofthe Normans, or would not adopt the new habits they tried to enforce. 

The weak, helpless, and aged, were sheltered by the monastery and itsbuildings; the strong, enrolled in Hereward's gallant band. Some of themwere of higher rank than himself, and in order that he might be on a parwith them, as well as with his Norman enemies, he sought the order ofknighthood from his uncle, Abbot Brand. 

The Normans in general were knighted by lay nobles, and though theirprince, William Rufus, received the order from Lanfranc, they would notacknowledge Hereward as a knight, though they could not help respectinghis truth, honor, and courage; and it was a common saying among them, that if there had been only four men like him in England, they shouldnever have gained a footing there. No wonder, when he never hesitated tofight singly with seven Normans at once, and each of his fiveprincipal followers was a match for three. They were Ibe Winter, hisbrother-in-arms; Eghelric, his cousin; Ital; Alfric; and Sexwald. 

Many fugitives of high rank did Hereward receive in his Camp of Refuge. He had nearly been honored by the presence of his hereditary sovereign, Edgar the Etheling, but the plan failed. He did, however, shelter histwo cousins, Morkar and Edwin. They had suffered much from the insolenceof the Normans, and experienced the futility of the promises in whichthey had trusted, until at length they had been driven to join a risingin the North. It had been quickly suppressed, and the worst of all thecruelties of the Normans had avenged it, while the two earls, now becomeoutlaws, fled to the Camp of Refuge. Thence Edwin was sent on a missionto Scotland, but on the way he was attacked by a party of his enemiesand slain, after a gallant resistance. He was the handsomest man of histime, and his betrothed, Agatha, was devotedly attached to him; it iseven said that the stern William himself wept when the bloody head ofhis daughter's lover was presented to him. A curious gold ornamenthas been of late years found in the field where Edwin was killed, andantiquaries allow us to imagine that it might have been a love-tokenfrom the Norman princess to the Saxon earl. 

Another fugitive in Hereward's camp was the high-spirited AbbotFrithric, whose steady opposition to the illegal encroachments of theNormans had given great offence to William. Once Frithric had combinedwith other influential ecclesiastics to require of the Conqueror anotheroath to abide by the old English laws, and thus brought on himself anaccusation of rebellion and sentence of banishment. He assembled hismonks, and told them the time was come when, according to the words ofHoly Scripture, they must flee from city to city, bade them, farewell, and, taking nothing with him but a few books, safely reached the Camp ofRefuge, where he soon after died. 

Thorold, the new Norman Abbot of Malmesbury, kept a body of archers inhis pay, and whenever his monks resisted any of his improper measures, he used to call out, "Here, my men-at-arms!" At length the Conquerorheard of his proceedings. "I'll find him his match!" cried William. "Iwill send him to Peterborough, 'where Hereward will give him as muchfighting as he likes. "

To Peterborough, then, Thorold was appointed on the death of Hereward'suncle, Abbot Brand, while the poor monks of Malmesbury received fortheir new superior a certain Guerin de Lire, who disinterred and threwaway the bones of his Saxon predecessors, and took all the treasure inthe coffers of the convent, in order that he might display his riches inthe eyes of those who had seen him poor. 

Yet all the Norman clergy were not such as these, and never should beforgotten the beautiful answer of Guimond, a monk of St. Leufroi, sucha priest as Fitz-Richard was a knight. William had summoned him toEngland, and he came without delay; but when he was told it was for thepurpose of raising him to high dignity, he spoke thus: "Many causesforbid me to seek dignity and power; I will not mention all. I will onlysay that I see not how I could ever properly be the head of men whosemanners and language I do not understand, and whose fathers, brothers, and friends, have been slain by your sword, disinherited, exiled, imprisoned, or harshly enslaved by you. Search the Holy Scriptureswhether any law permits that the shepherd should be forced on the flockby their enemy. Can you divide what you have won by war and bloodshed, with one who has laid aside his own goods for the sake of Christ? Allpriests are forbidden to meddle with rapine, or to take any share of theprey, even as an offering at the altar; for, as the Scriptures say, 'He that bringeth an offering of the goods of the poor, is as onethat slayeth the son before the father's eyes. ' When I remember thesecommands of God, I am filled with terror; I look on England as one greatprey, and dread to touch it or its treasures, as I should a red-hotiron. "

Guimond then returned to Normandy, uninjured by the Conqueror, who, with all his faults, never took offence at such rebukes; but theworldly-minded clergy were excessively affronted at his censure of theirrapacity, and raised such a persecution against him that he was obligedto take refuge in Italy. 

As soon as the news arrived at the Camp of Refuge that the warlikeThorold had been appointed to Peterborough, Hereward and his handhastened to the Abbey, and, probably with the consent of the Saxonmonks, carried off all the treasures into the midst of the fens. Thorold, with one hundred and sixty men-at-arms, soon made hisappearance, was installed as Abbot, and quickly made friends with hisNorman neighbor, Ivo Taillebois. 

They agreed to make an expedition against the robber Saxons, and unitedtheir forces, but Thorold appears to have been not quite as willing toface Hereward as to threaten his monks, and let Ivo advance into themidst of an extensive wood of alders, while he remained in the rear withsome other Normans of distinction. Ivo sought through the whole woodwithout meeting a Saxon, and returning to the spot where he had leftthe Abbot, found no one there, for Hereward had quitted the wood on theopposite side, made a circuit, and falling suddenly on Thorold and hisparty, carried them off to the fens, and kept them there till they hadpaid a heavy ransom. 

In 1072, the fifth year of the Camp of Refuge, it had assumed soformidable an aspect, that William thought it necessary to take vigorousmeasures against it, more especially as there had been lately acommencement of correspondence with the Danes. The difficulty was toreach it, for the treacherous ground of the fens afforded no firmfooting for an army; there was not water enough for boats, no stationfor archers, no space for a charge of the ponderous knights, amongst thereedy pools. William decided on constructing a causeway, and employedworkmen to cut trenches to drain off the water, and raise the bank ofstones and turf, under the superintendence of Ivo Taillebois. However, Hereward was on the alert, harassing them perpetually, breaking onthem sometimes on one side, sometimes on the other, in such strange, unexpected ways, that at last the viscount came to the conclusion thathe must have magic arts to aid him, and persuaded the king to let himsend for a witch to work against him by counter spells. Accordingly, shewas installed in a wooden tower raised at the end of the part of thecauseway which was completed, and the workmen were beginning to advanceboldly under her protection, when suddenly smoke and flame came drivingupon them. Hereward had set fire to the dry reeds, and, spreadingquickly, the flame cut off their retreat, and the unhappy womanperished, with many of the Normans. 

Again and again were the Norman attacks disconcerted, and all thatthey could attempt was a blockade, which lasted many months, and mightprobably have been sustained many more by the hardy warriors, if some ofthe monks of Ely, growing weary of the privations they endured, had notgone in secret to the king, and offered to show him a way across theMarches, on condition that the wealth of the Abbey was secured. 

Accordingly, a band of Normans crossed the fens, took the Saxons bysurprise, killed a thousand men, and forced the camp. Hereward and hisfive comrades still fought on, crossed bogs where the enemy did not dareto follow them, and at length escaped into the low lands of Lincoln, where they met with some Saxon fishermen, who were in the habit ofsupplying a Norman station of soldiers. These Saxons willingly receivedthe warriors into their boats, and hid them under heaps of straw, whilethey carried their fish as usual to the Normans. While the Normans werein full security, Hereward and his men suddenly attacked them, killedsome, put the rest to flight, and seized their horses. 

Collecting others of his scattered followers, Hereward kept up hiswarfare from his own house at Bourn, continually harassing the Normans, until at length he took prisoner his old enemy, Ivo Taillebois, and, as the price of his liberty, required him to make his peace with theConqueror. This was good news to William, who highly esteemed his valorand constancy, and could accuse him of no breach of faith, since he hadmade no engagements to him. Hereward was therefore received as a subjectof King William, retained his own estate, and died there at a good oldage, respected by both Saxons and Normans. 

There is, indeed, an old Norman-French poem, that declares it was forthe love of a noble Saxon lady, named Alftrude, that Hereward ceased tostruggle with the victors. According to this story, Alftrude, an heiressof great wealth, was so charmed by the report of Hereward's fame, thatshe offered him her hand, and persuaded him to make peace with William. It is further said, that one afternoon, as he lay asleep under a tree, a band of armed men, among whom were several Bretons, surrounded andmurdered him, though not till he had slain fifteen of them. 

But this story is not likely to be true, since we know that Herewardwas already married, and the testimony of more than one ancient Englishchronicler declares that he spent his latter years in peace and honor. He was the only one of the Saxon chieftains who thus closed his days inhis native home--the only one who had not sought to preserve his ownpossessions at the expense of his country, and who had broken no oathsnor engagements. His exploits are told in old ballads and half-romantichistories, and it is not safe to believe them implicitly, but hisexistence and his gallant resistance are certain. 

Many years after, the remains of a wooden fort, the citadel, so tospeak of the Camp of Refuge, still existed in the Isle of Ely, and wascalled by the peasantry Hereward's Castle. The treacherous monks of Elywere well punished by having forty men-at-arms quartered on their Abbey. 

Of the captives taken in the camp, many were most cruelly treated, theireyes put out, and their hands cut off; others were imprisoned, and manyslain. Morkar, who was here taken, spent the rest of his life inthe same captivity as Ulfnoth, Stigand, and many other Saxons ofdistinction, with the one gleam of hope when liberated at William'sdeath, and then the bitter disappointment of renewed seizure andcaptivity. If it could be any consolation to them, these Saxons were notWilliam's only captives. Bishop Odo, of Bayeux, whom William had madeEarl of Kent, after giving a great deal of trouble to his brother theking, and to Archbishop Lanfranc, by his avarice and violence, heard aprediction that the next Pope should be named Odo, and set off to tryto bring about its fulfilment in his own person, carrying with him animmense quantity of ill-gotten treasure, and a large number of troops, commanded by Hugh the Wolf, Earl of Chester. 

However, Odo had reckoned without King William, and he had but just setsail, when William, setting off from Normandy, met him in the Channel, took his ships, and making him land in the Isle of Wight, and convokingan assembly of knights, declared his offences, and asked them what sucha brother deserved. 

Between fear of the king and fear of the Bishop, no one ventured toanswer, upon which William sentenced him to imprisonment; and when hedeclared that no one but the Pope had a right to judge him, answered, "Ido not try you, the Bishop of Bayeux, but the Earl of Kent, " and senthim closely guarded to Normandy. 

Another Norman state-prisoner was Roger Fitzosborn, the son of William'searly friend, who had died soon after the Conquest. Roger's offence wasthe bestowing his sister Emma in marriage without the consent of theking, and in addition, much seditious language was used at the weddingbanquet, where, unhappily, was present Waltheof, Earl of Huntingdon, thelast Saxon noble. 

Roger, finding himself in danger, broke out into open rebellion, but wassoon made prisoner. Still the king would have pardoned him for thesake of his father, whom William seems to have regarded with much moreaffection that he be stowed on any one else, and, as a mark of kindness, sent him a costly robe. The proud and passionate Roger, disdaining thegift, kindled a fire, and burnt the garment on the dungeon floor; andWilliam, deeply affronted, swore in return that he should never pass thethreshold of his prison. 

Waltheof, who was innocent of all save being present at the unfortunatefeast, might have been spared but for the wickedness of his wife, Judith, William's niece, who had been married to him when it was heruncle's policy to conciliate the Saxons. She hated and despised theSaxon churl given her for a lord, kind, generous, and pious though hewas; and having set her affections on a young Norman, herself became theaccuser of her husband. Waltheof succeeded in disproving the calumnies, and the best and wisest Normans spoke in his favor; but the spite of IvoTaillebois, and the hatred of his wife, prevailed, and he was sentencedto die. 

He was executed at Winchester, where, lest the inhabitants shouldattempt a rescue, he was led out, early in the morning, to St. Giles'shill, outside the walls. He wore the robes of an earl, and gave them tothe priests who attended him, and to the poor people who followed him. When he came to the spot he knelt down to pray, begging the soldiers towait till he had said the Lord's Prayer; but he had only come to "Leadus not into temptation, " when one of them severed his head from his bodywith one blow of a sword. 

His body was hastily thrown into a hole; but the Saxons, who loved himgreatly, disinterred it in secret, and contrived to carry it all the wayto Croyland, where it was buried with due honors, and we may think ofHereward le Wake attending the funeral of the son of the stalwart oldSiward Biorn. 

As to the perfidious Judith, she reaped the reward of her crimes; shewas not permitted to marry her Norman lover, and he was stripped of allthe wealth she expected as the widow of Waltbeof. This was secured toher infant daughter, and was so considerable, that at one time Williamthought the little Matilda of Huntingdon a fit match for his son Robert;but Robert despised the Saxon blood, and made this project an excuse forone of his rebellions. Matilda was, however, a royal bride, since herhand was given to David I. Of Scotland, the representative of the oldrace of Cerdic, and a most excellent prince, with whom she was muchhappier than she could well have: been with the unstable RobertCourtheuse. 

 CAMEO IX. 

 THE LAST SAXON BISHOP. (1008-1095. )

 _Kings of England_. 1066. William I. 1087. William II. 

The last saint of the Anglo-Saxon Church, the Bishop who lived from thedays of Edward the Confessor, to the evil times of the Red King, wasWulstan of Worcester, a homely old man, of plain English character, andof great piety. The quiet, even tenor of his life is truly like a "softgreen isle" in the midst of the turbulent storms and tempests of theNorman Conquest. 

Wulstan was born at Long Itchington, a village in Warwickshire, in thetime of Ethelred the Unready. He was the son of the Thane Athelstan, andwas educated in the monasteries of Evesham and Peterborough. When he hadbeen trained in such learning as these could afford, he came home fora few years, and entered into the sports and occupations of the nobleyouths of the time, without parting with the piety and purity of hisconventual life, and steadily resisting temptation. 

His parents were grown old, and having become impoverished, perhaps bythe exactions perpetrated either by the Danes, or to bribe them away, retired from the world, and entered convents at Worcester. Wulstan, wishing to devote himself to the Church, sought the service of theBishop, who ordained him to the priesthood. 

He lived, though a secular priest, with monastic strictness, and in timeobtained permission from the Bishop to become a monk in the convent, where he continued for twenty-five years, and at length became Prior ofthe Convent. The Prior was the person next in office to the Abbot, andgoverned the monastery in his absence; and in some religious orders, where there was no Abbot, the Prior was the superior. 

Wulstan's habits in the convent show us what the devotional life ofthat time was. Each day he bent the knee at each verse of the sevenPenitential Psalms, and the same at the 119th Psalm at night. He wouldlock himself into the church, and pray aloud with tears and cries, andat night he would often retire into some solitary spot, the graveyard, or lonely village church, to pray and meditate. His bed was the churchfloor, or a narrow board, and stern were his habits of fasting andmortification; but all the time he was full of activity in the cause ofthe poor, and, finishing his devotions early in the morning, gave up thewhole day to attend to the common people, sitting at the church door tolisten to, and redress, as far as in him lay, the grievances that theybrought him--at any rate, to console and advise. The rude, secularcountry clergy, at that time, it may be feared, a corrupt, untaughtrace, had in great measure ceased to instruct or exhort their flocks, and even refund baptism without payment. He did his best to remedy theseabuses, and from all parts of the country children were brought tothe good Prior for baptism. Every Sunday, too, he preached, and theWorcestershire people flocked from all sides to hear his plain, forciblelanguage, though he never failed to rebuke them sharply for their mostprevalent sins. 

The fame of the holy Prior of Worcester began to spread, and on oneoccasion Earl Harold himself came thirty miles out of his way to confesshis sins to him and desire his prayers. 

About the year 1062, two Roman Cardinals came to Worcester with Aldred, who had just been translated from that see to the Archbishopric ofYork. They spent the whole of Lent in Wulstan's monastery; and when, at Easter, they returned to the court of Edward the Confessor, theyrecommended him for the Bishop to succeed Aldred; and Aldred himself, Archbishop Stigand, and Harold, all concurred in the same advice. Thepeople and clergy of Worcester with one voice chose the good PriorWulstan; his election was confirmed by the king, and he received theappointment. He long struggled against it, protesting that he wouldrather lose his head than be made a Bishop; but he was persuaded at lastby an old hermit, who rebuked him for his resistance as for a sin. Hereceived the pastoral staff from King Edward, and was consecrated by hisformer Bishop, Aldred. 

As a Bishop he was more active than ever, constantly riding from placeto place to visit the different towns and villages; and, as he went, repeating the Psalms and Litany, his attendant priests making theresponses; while his chamberlain carried a purse, from which every onewho asked alms was sure to be supplied. He never passed a church withoutpraying in it, and never reached his resting-place for the night withoutpaying his first visit to the church. Wherever he went, crowds of everyrank poured out to meet him, and he never sent them away without thefull Church service, and a sermon; nay, more--each poor serf might cometo him, pour out his troubles, whether temporal, or whether his hearthad been touched by the good words he had heard. Above all, Wulstandelighted in giving his blessing in Confirmation, and would go on frommorning till night without food, till all his clergy were worn out, though he seemed to know no weariness. 

His clergy seem to have had much of the sluggishness of the Saxon, andwere often impatient of a temper, both of devotion and energy, so muchbeyond them. If one was absent from the night service, the Bishop wouldtake no notice till it was over; but when all the others were gone backto bed, he would wake the defaulter, and make him go through the servicewith no companion but himself, making the responses. They did not likehim to put them out, as he often did on their journeys, while goingthrough the Psalms, by dwelling on the "prayer-verses;" and mostespecially did they dislike his leading them to church, whatever seasonor weather it might be, to chant matins before it was light. Once, atMarlow, when it was a long way to church, very muddy, and with a coldrain falling, one of his clergy, in hopes of making him turn back, ledhim into the worst part of the swamp, where he sunk up to his knees inmud, and lost his shoe; but he took no notice until, after the servicewas over, he had returned to his lodgings, half dead with cold, andthen, instead of expressing any anger, he only ordered search to be madefor the shoe. 

Wulstan took no part in what we should call politics; he thought it hisduty to render his submission to the King whom the people had chosen, and to strive only to amend the life of the men of the country. He wasin high favor with Harold during his short reign, and was for some timeat court, where the fine Saxon gentlemen learnt to dread the neighborhoodof the old Bishop; for Wulstan considered their luxury as worthy of blame, and especially attacked their long flowing hair. If any of them placedtheir heads within, his reach, he would crop off "the first-fruits oftheir curls" with his own little knife, enjoining them to have the restcut off; and yet, if Wulstan saw the children of the choir with theirdress disordered, he would smooth it with his own hands, and when toldthe condescension did not become a Bishop, made answer, "He that isgreatest among you shall be your servant. "

Aldred, Wulstan's former Bishop, now Archbishop of York, was theanointer of both Harold and William the Conqueror. He kept fair with theNormans as long as he could, but at last, driven to extremity by themiseries they inflicted on his unhappy diocese, he went to Williamarrayed in his full episcopal robes, solemnly revoked his coronationblessing, denounced a curse on him and his race, and then, returning toYork, there died of grief. 

Eghelwin, Bishop of Durham, gave good advice to Comyn, the Norman Earl, but it was unheeded, and the townsmen rose in the night and burnt Comynto death, with all his followers, as they lay overcome with wine andsleep in the plundered houses. The rising of the northern countiesfollowed, and Eghelwin was so far involved in it, that he was obliged tofly. He took shelter in the Camp of Refuge, was made prisoner whenit was betrayed, and spent the rest of his life in one of William'sprisons. 

Our good Wulstan had a happier lot, and spent his time in his own roundof quiet duties in his diocese, binding up the wounds inflicted by thecruel oppressors, but exhorting the Saxons to bear them patiently, andsee in them the chastisement of their own crimes. "It is the scourge ofGod that ye are suffering, " he said; and when they replied that theyhad never been half so bad as the Normans, he said, "God is using theirwickedness to punish your evil deserts, as the devil, of his own evilwill, yet by God's righteous will, punishes those with whom he suffers. Do ye, when ye are angry, care what becomes of the staff wherewith yestrike?"

He had his own share of troubles and anxieties, but he met them in histrustful spirit, and straight-forward way. At Easter, 1070, a councilwas held at Winchester, at which he was summoned to attend. He was oneof the five last Saxon Bishops; Stigand, who held both at once theprimacy and the see of Winchester; his brother, Eghelmar, Bishop ofElmham; Eghelsie, of Selsey; and the Bishop of Durham, Eghelwin, who wasin the Camp of Refuge. 

Two cardinals were present to represent the Pope, and on account of hissimony, Stigand was deposed and imprisoned, while Eghelric and Eghelmarwere also degraded. Yet Wulstan, clear of conscience, and certain of thevalidity of his own election, was not affrighted; so far from it, heboldly called on the King to restore some lands that Aldred of York hadkept back from the see of Worcester. 

Thomas, Aldred's successor, claimed them by a pretended jurisdictionover Worcester, and the decision was put off for a court of thegreat men of the realm, which did not take place till several freshappointments had been made. Lanfranc, the Italian, Abbot of Bec, hadbecome Archbishop of Canterbury, and was, of course, interested inguarding the jurisdiction of the Archiepiscopal see. 

Wulstan, in this critical time, was exactly like himself. He fell asleepwhile Thomas was arguing, and when time was given him to think of hisanswer, he spent it in singing the service of the hour, though hispriests were in terror lest they should be ridiculed for it. "Know younot, " he answered, "that the Lord hath said, 'When ye stand before kingand rulers, take no thought what ye shall speak, for it shall be givenyou in that hour what ye shall speak. ' Our Lord can give me speechto-day to defend my right, and overthrow their might. " Accordingly, hishonest statement prevailed, and he gained his cause. 

There is a beautiful legend that Lanfranc, thinking the simple oldSaxon too rude and ignorant for his office, summoned him to a synod atWestminster, and there called on him to deliver up his pastoral staffand ring. Wulstan rose, and said he had known from the first that he wasnot worthy of his dignity, and had taken it only at the bidding of hismaster, King Edward. To him, therefore, who gave the staff, he wouldresign it. Advancing to the Confessor's tomb, he said, "Master, thouknowest how unwillingly I took this office, forced to it by thee. Beholda new king--a new law--a new primate; they decree new rights, andpromulgate new statutes. Thee they accuse of error in having socommanded--me of presumption, in having obeyed. Then, indeed, thou wastliable to err, being mortal--now, being with God, thou canst not err. Not to these who require what they did not give, but to thee, who hastgiven, I render up my staff. Take this, my master, and deliver it towhom thou wilt. "

He laid it on the tomb, took off his episcopal robes, and sat downamong the monks. The legend goes on to say, that the staff remainedembedded in the stone, and no hand could wrench it away, till Wulstanhimself again took it up, when it yielded without effort. The King andArchbishop fell down at his feet, and entreated his pardon and blessing. 

Such is the story told a century after; and surely we may believe that, without the miracle, the old man's touching appeal to his dead King, andhis humility, convinced Lanfranc that it had been foul shame to thinkof deposing such a man because his learning was not extensive, nor hismanners like those of the courtly Norman. Be that as it may, thenceforthLanfranc and Wulstan worked hand in hand, and we find the Archbishopbegging him to undertake the visitation of the diocese of Chester, whichwas unsafe for the Norman prelates. One great work accomplished by thehelp of Wulstan was, the putting an end to a horrible slave-trade withIreland, whither Saxon serfs were sold, not by Normans, but by their owncountry people, who had long carried it on before the Conquest. Lanfrancpersuaded William to abolish it, but the rude Saxon slave-merchantscared nothing for his edicts, until the Bishop of Worcester came toBristol, and preached against the traffic, staying a month or two ata time, every year, till the minds of the people of Bristol were soaltered, that they not only gave up the trade, but acquired sucha horror of it that they tore out the eyes of the last person whopersisted in it. 

The favor and esteem with which Wulstan was regarded did not cease, buthe was obliged to spend a life of constraint. The Archbishop made himkeep a band of armed retainers to preserve the peace of the country, andthey were new and strange companions for the old monk; but as he thoughthis presence kept them from evil, he did not remain aloof, dining withthem each day in the public hall, and even while they sat long over thewine, remaining with them, pledging them good-humoredly in a little cup, which he pretended to taste, and ruminating on the Psalms in the midstof their noisy mirth. 

These were the days of church-building--the days of the circular arch, round column, and zigzag moulding; of doorways whose round arch, adornedwith border after border of rich or quaint device, almost bewilder uswith the multiplicity of detail; of low square towers, and solid walls;of that kind of architecture called Norman, but more properly a branchof the Romanesque of Italy. 

Each new Roman Bishop or Abbot thought it his business to renew hisclumsy old Saxon minster, and we have few cathedrals whose presentstructure does not date from the days of the Conqueror or his sons. Walkelyn, Bishop of Winchester, obtained a grant from William of asmuch timber from Hempage Wood as could be cut in four days and nights;whereupon Walkelyn assembled a huge company of workmen, and made suchgood use of the time, that when the king passed that way, he cried out, "Am I bewitched, or have I taken leave of my senses? Had I not a mostdelectable wood in this spot?" where now only stumps were to be seen. 

Wulstan had always been a church-builder, and he renewed his cathedralafter the Norman fashion; but when it was finished, and the workmenbegan to pull down the old one, which had been built by St. Oswald, he stood watching them in silence, till at last he shed tears. "Poorcreatures that we are, " said he, "we destroy the work of the saints, andthink in our pride that we improve upon it. Those blessed men knew nothow to build fine churches, but they knew how to sacrifice themselves toGod, whatever roof might be over them, and to draw their flocks afterthem. Now, all we think of is to rear up piles of stones, while we carenot for souls. "

Wulstan lived to a great age, survived William and Lanfrane, andassisted to consecrate Anselm. In the last year of his life he kept eachfestival with still greater solemnity than ever, and his feast for thepoor overflowed more than ever before; his stores were exhausted, thoughhe had collected an unusual quantity, and his clergy begged him to shutthe gates against the crowds still gathering; but he refused, sayingnone should go empty away, and some gifts from his rich friends arrivedopportunely to supply the need. The Bishop sat in the midst as feastingwith them, now grown too feeble to wait on them, as he had always donehitherto. 

At Whitsuntide, 1094, he was taken ill, and lingered under a slow fevertill the new year, when he died in peace and joy on the 19th of January. His greatest friend, Robert, the Bishop of Hereford, a learned man, understanding all the science of the time, a judge, and a courtlyLorrainer, yet who loved to spend whole days with the unlettered Saxon, came to lay him in his grave. He received, as a gift from the convent, the lambskin cloak that Wulstan used to wear, in spite of the laughterof the gay prelates arrayed in costly furs, keeping his ground bysaying, that "the furs of cunning animals did not befit a plain man. "He went home to Hereford, and soon after died, having, it is said, beenwarned in a vision by St. Wulstan that he must soon prepare to followhim. 

 CAMEO X. 

 THE CONQUEROR. (1066-1087. )

In speaking of William, the Norman Conqueror, we are speaking of areally great man; and great men are always hard to understand or dealwith in history, for, as their minds are above common understandings, their contemporary historians generally enter into their views less thanany one else, and it is only the result that proves their wisdom andfar-sight. Moreover, their temptations and their sins are on a largerscale than those of other men, and some of the actions that they performmake a disproportionate impression by the cry that they occasion--theevil is remembered, not the good that their main policy effected. 

William was a high-minded man, of mighty and wide purposes, one of thevery few who understood what it was to be a king. He had the Normanqualities in their fullest perfection. He was devoutly religious, and inhis private character was irreproachable, being the first Norman Dukeunstained by licence, the first whose sons were all born of his princesswife. He was devout in his habits, full of alms-deeds; and strong andresolute as was his will, he kept it so upright and so truly desirousof the Divine glory and the Church's welfare, that he had no seriousmisunderstanding with the clergy, and lived on the most friendly termswith his great Archbishop, Lanfranc. 

He was one of those mighty men who, in personal intercourse, have aforce of nature that not merely renders opposition impossible, butabsolutely masters the will and intention, so that there is not even thesecret contradiction of mind. We have seen this in his dealings withboth his own Normans and the Saxons who came in contact with him. Hispresence was so irresistible that men yielded to it unconsciously, butwhen absent from him they became themselves again, and in the reactionthey committed treason against the pledges they seemed to havevoluntarily given to him. 

He was stern, fiercely stern. His standard and ideal were very high, such as, perhaps, only the saintly could attain to. The men whonever quarrelled with him were Lanfranc, Edgar Atheling, and WilliamFitzosborn. The first was saintly and strong; the second, honest, upright, and simple; the third was endeared by boyish memories, andto these, perhaps, may be added Edward the Confessor and good BishopWulstan. 

Many others William tried to love and trust--his uncle Odo, his own son, Earls Edwin and Morkar, Waltheof, the sons of Fitzosborn; but theyall failed, grieved, and disappointed him. None was strong, noble, ordisinterested enough not at one time or other to be a traitor; and, perhaps, his really honest, open enemy, Hereward le Wake, was the personwhom he most valued and honored after the above mentioned. 

And though his affection was hearty, his wrath when he was disappointedwas tremendous. And his disappointments were many, partly because hisstandard was in every respect far above that of the men around him, andpartly because his presence so far lifted them to his level, that, whenthey fell to their own, he was totally unprepared for the treachery anddeceit such a fall involved. 

Then down he came on them with implacable vengeance, he was so very"stark, " as the old chronicle has it. Battle, devastation, plunder, lifelong imprisonment, confiscation, requited him who had drawn onhimself the terrible wrath of William of Normandy. There were few softplaces in that mighty heart; it could love, but it could not pity, andit could not forgive. He was of the true nature to be a Scourge of God. 

Hardened and embittered by the selfish treasons that had beset his earlyboyhood, and which had forced him into manhood before his time, he cameto England as one called thither by the late king's designation, and, therefore, the lawful heir. The Norman law, a confusion of the old Frankand Roman codes, and of the Norwegian pirate customs, he seems to havebeen glad to leave behind. His native Normans must be ruled by it, but he was an English king by inheritance, and English laws he wouldobserve; Englishmen should have their national share in the royal favor, and in their native land. 

But the design proved impracticable. The English had been split intofierce parties long before he came, and the West Saxon, the MercianAngle, and Northumbrian Dane hated one another still, and all hated theNorman alike; and his Norman, French, and Breton importations lost nolove among themselves, and viewed the English natives as conqueredbeings, whose spoil was unjustly withheld from them by the Duke King. 

Rebellion began: by ones, twos, and threes, the nobles revolted, and were stamped out by William's iron heel, suffering his fierce, unrelenting justice--that highest justice that according to the Latinproverb becomes, in man's mind at least, the highest injustice. SoEngland lay, trampled, bleeding, indignant, and raising a loud cry ofmisery; but, in real truth, the sufferers were in the first place theactual rebels, Saxon and Norman alike; next, those districts which hadrisen against his authority, and were barbarously devastated with fireand sword; and lastly, the places which, by the death or forfeiture ofnative lords, or by the enforced marriage of heiresses, fell into thehands of rapacious Norman adventurers, who treated their serfs with thebrutal violence common in France. 

Otherwise, things were left much as they were. The towns had little orno cause of complaint, and the lesser Saxon gentry, with the Franklinsand the Earls, were unmolested, unless they happened to have viciousneighbors. The Curfew bell, about which so great a clamor was raised, was a universal regulation in Europe; it was a call to prayers, anintimation that it was bedtime, and a means of guarding against fire, when streets were often nothing but wooden booths thatched. The intensehatred that its introduction caused was only the true English dislike toanything like domiciliary interference. 

The King has left us an undoubted testimony to the condition of thecountry, and the number of Saxons still holding tenures. Nineteen yearsafter his Conquest, he held a council at Gloucester, the result of whichwas a great "numbering of the people"--a general census. To every cityor town, commissioners were sent forth, who collected together the Shirereeve or Sheriff--the Viscount, as the Normans called him--the thegus, the parish priests, the reeves, and franklins, who were examined uponoath of the numbers, names, and holdings of the men of their place, bothas they were in King Edward's days, and at that time. The lands had tobe de scribed, whether plough lands or pasture, wood or waste; the millsand fisheries wore recorded, and each farmer's stock of oxen, cows, sheep, or swine. The English grumbled at the inquiry, called it tyranny, and expected worse to come of it, but there was no real cause forcomplaint. The primary object of the survey was the land-tax, theDanegeld, as it was called, because it was first raised to providedefences against the Danes, and every portion of arable land wasassessed at a fair rate, according to ancient custom, but not that whichlay waste. The entire record, including all England save London and thefour northern counties, was preserved at Winchester, and called theWinchester Roll, or Domesday Book. It is one of the most interestingrecords in existence, showing, as it does, the exceeding antiquity ofour existing divisions of townships, parishes and estates, and even ofthe families inhabiting them, of whom a fair proportion, chiefly of thelesser gentry, can point to evidence that they live on soil that wastilled by their fathers before the days of the Norman. It is far moresatisfactory than the Battle Roll, which was much tampered with by themonks to gratify the ancestral vanity of gentlemen who were so persuadedthat their ancestors ought to be found there, that they caused them tobe inserted if they were missing. Of Domesday Book, however, there is nodoubt, as the original copy is still extant in its fair old handwriting, showing the wonderful work that the French-speaking scribes made withEnglish names of people and places. Queen Edith, the Confessor's widow, who was a large landholder, appears as Eddeve, Adeve, Adiva--by anythingbut her true old English name of Eadgyth. But it was much that thesubdued English folk appeared there at all. 

The most real grievance that the English had to complain of was theForest Laws. The Dukes of Normandy had had many a quarrel in theirNeustrian home with their subjects, on the vexed question of the chase, their greatest passion; and when William came into England as a victor, he was determined to rule all his own way in the waste and woodland. Allthe forests he took into his own hands, and the saying was that "theking loved the high deer as if he was their father;" any trespass wasseverely punched, and if he slaughter of any kind of game was a moreserious thing than murder itself. 

Chief of all, however, in people's minds, was his appropriation of thetract of Jettenwald, or the Giant's Wood, Ytene, in South Hants. Atempting hunting-ground extended nearly all the way from his royal cityof Winchester, broad, bare chalk down, passing into heathy common, andforest waste, covered with holly and yew, and with noble oak and beechin its dells, fit covert for the mighty boar, the high deer, and aninfinity of game beside. 

With William's paternal feelings toward the deer, he thought the cottersand squatters, the churls and the serfs, on the borders of the wood, orin little clearings in the midst, mischievous interlopers, and at oneswoop he expelled them all, and kept the Giant's Wood solely for himselfand his deer, by the still remaining name of the New Forest. 

Chroniclers talk of twenty-two mother churches and fifty-twoparishes laid waste, but there is no doubt that this was a monstrousexaggeration, and that the population could not have been so dense. Atany rate, whatever their numbers, the inhabitants were expelled, theanimals were left unmolested for seven years, and then the Norman kingenjoyed his sports there among his fierce nobility, little recking thatall the English, and many of the Normans, longed that a curse shouldthere light upon his head, or on that of his proud sons. 

 CAMEO XI. 

 THE CONQUEROR'S CHILDREN. (1050-1087. )

The wife of William of Normandy was, as has been said, Matilda, daughterof Baldwin, Count of Flanders. The wife of such a man as William has notmuch opportunity of showing her natural character, and we do not knowmuch of hers. It appears, however, that she was strong-willed andvindictive, and, very little disposed to accept him. She had sether affections upon one Brihtric Meau, called Snow, from his faircomplexion, a young English lord who had visited her father's court ona mission from Edward the Confessor, but who does not appear to haveequally admired the lady. For seven years Matilda is said to have heldout against William, until one twilight evening, when she was goinghome from church, in the streets of Bruges he rode up to her, beat herseverely, and threw her into the gutter!

Wonderful to relate, the high-spirited demoiselle was subdued by thisrough courtship, and gave her hand to her determined cousin withoutfurther resistance; nor do we hear that he ever beat her again. Indeed, if he did, he was not likely to let their good vassals be aware of it;and, in very truth, they seem to have been considered as models of peaceand happiness. But it is much to be suspected that her nature remainedproud and vindictive; for no sooner had her husband become master ofEngland, than she caused the unfortunate Brihtric, who had disdained herlove, to be stripped of all his manors in Gloucestershire, includingFairford, Tewkesbury, and the rich meadows around, and threw him intoWinchester Castle, where he died; while Domesday Book witnesses to herrevenge, by showing that the lands once his belonged to Queen Matilda. 

The indication of character in a woman who had so little opportunity ofindependent action, is worth noting, as it serves to mark the spiritin which her children would be reared, and to explain why the sonsso entirely fell short of all that was greatest and noblest in theirfather. The devotion, honor, and generosity, that made the iron of hiscomposition bright as well as hard, was utterly wanting in them, ormerely appeared in passing inconsistencies, and it is but too likelythat they derived no gentler training from their mother. There were tenchildren, four sons and six daughters, but the names of these latter, are very difficult to distinguish, as Adela, Atheliza, Adelheid, orAlix, was a sort of feminine of Atheling, a Princess-Royal title, and was applied to most of the eldest daughters of the French andGerman-princes, or, when the senior was dead, or married, to thesurviving eldest. 

Cecily, Matilda's eldest daughter, was, even before her birth, decreedto be no Adela for whom contending potentates might struggle. She wasto be the atonement for the parents' hasty, unlicensed marriage, inaddition to their two beautiful abbeys at Caen. When the Abbaye auxDames was consecrated, the little girl was led by her father to the footof the altar, and there presented as his offering. She was educated withgreat care by a very learned though somewhat dissipated priest, tookthe veil, and, becoming abbess, ruled her nuns for many years, wellcontented and much respected. 

The next sister was the Atheliza of the family, but her name was eitherElfgiva or Agatha. She enjoys the distinction of being the only femaleportrait in her mother's tapestry--except a poor woman escaping from asacked town. She stands under a gateway, while Harold is riding forthwith her father, in witness, perhaps, of her having been betrothed toHarold; or perhaps Matilda felt a mother's yearning to commemorate thefirst of her flock who had been laid in the grave, for Elfgiva died ashort time after the contract, which Harold would hardly have fulfilled, since he had at least one wife already at home. 

Her sister, Matilda, promoted to be Adeliza, was betrothed to anotherSaxon, the graceful and beautiful Edwin, whom she loved with greatardor, through all his weak conduct toward her father. After hisuntimely end, she was promised to Alfonso I. Of Castile, but shecould not endure to give her heart to another; she wept and prayedcontinually, but in vain as far as her father was concerned. She wassent off on her journey, but died on the way; and then it was that thepoor girl's knees were found to be hardened by her constant kneeling toimplore the pity that assuredly was granted to her. 

Constance married Alain Fergeant, a brother of the Duke of Brittany, andan adventurer in the Norman invasion. He was presented with the Earldomof Richmond, in Yorkshire; and as his son became afterward Duke ofBrittany, this appanage frequently gave title to younger brothers in theold Armorican Duchy. That son was not born of Constance; she fell intoa languishing state of health, and died, four years after her marriage. Report said that her husband's vassals found her so harsh and rigorous, that they poisoned her; and considering what her brothers were, it isnot unlikely. 

Of the Adela who married that accomplished prince, Stephen, Count deBlois, there will be more to say; and as to Gundred, the wife of EarlWarenne, it is a doubtful question whether she was a daughter of Williamand Matilda. Her tomb was lately found in Isfield Church, Sussex; butthough it has an inscription praising her virtues, it says nothing ofher royal birth. 

The sons of William left far more distinct and undesirable traces ofthemselves than their sisters. Robert was probably the eldest of thewhole family, and he was his mother's favorite, like most eldest sons. He did not inherit the stately height of the Norman princes, and, fromhis short, sturdy form, early acquired the nickname of Courtheuse, bywhich he was distinguished among the swarms of other Roberts. Much painswas bestowed on his instruction, and that of his brothers, Richard andWilliam, by the excellent Lanfranc, and they all had great abilities;but there were influences at work among the fierce Norman lads thatrendered the holy training of the good abbot wholly ineffectual. Theirfather, conscious of his own defective right to the ducal rank, lost noopportunity of binding his vassals to swear fealty not only to himself, but his eldest son; and from Robert's infancy he had learnt to hold outhis hand, and hear the barons declare themselves his men. When the Dukeset out on his conquest of England, he caused the oath to be renewed toRobert, and he at the same time showed his love for William, then theyoungest, by having him, with his long red hair floating, carved, blowing a horn, at the figure-head of the Mora. 

Soon after the Conquest, when Matilda had lately been crowned Queen ofEngland, the fourth son, Henry, was born. He had much more personalbeauty and height than the other brothers, and there was always an ideafloating that the son born when his father was king had a right overhis elder brethren, and thus Henry was always an object of jealousy tohis brothers. Passionately fond of the few books he could obtain, hewas called Beauclerc, or the fine scholar; and whilst as littlerestrained by real principle as his brothers, he was able to preserve adecorum and self-command that kept him in better reputation. 

The second brother, Richard, however, had no opportunity of showing hischaracter. He died in the New Forest, either from a blow on the headfrom a branch of a tree, or from a fever caught in the marshes, and isburied in Winchester Cathedral. Perhaps the doom came on him in innocentyouth, "because there was some good thing in him. "

In 1075, when Robert must have been a man some years over twenty, Henrya boy of nine, and William probably twelve or fourteen, they all threeaccompanied their father into Normandy, and were there in the fortressof Aquila, or Aigle, so called because there had been an eagle's nestin the oak-tree close to the site of the castle. Robert was in adiscontented mood. The numerous occasions on which he had received thehomage of the Normans made him fancy he ought to have the rule in theduchy; his mother's favoritism had fostered his ill-feeling, and he wasbecoming very jealous of red-haired William, who from his quickness, daring, and readiness had become his father's favorite; and thoughunder restraint in the Conqueror's presence, was no doubt outrageouslyboisterous, insolent, and presuming in his absence; and Henry, the finescholar, his companion and following his lead, secretly despised bothhis elders. 

Robert's lodging was suddenly invaded by the two wild lads and theirattendants. Finding themselves no better welcomed or amused than rudeboys are wont to be by young men, they betook themselves to an upperroom, the floor of which was formed by ill-laid, gaping planks, whichwere the ceiling of that below. Here they began to play at dice; theysoon grew even more intolerably uproarious, and in the coarse of theirquarrelsome, boisterous tricks, overthrew a vessel of dirty water, whichbegan to drip through the interstices of the planks on their brother andhis friends below--an accident sure to be welcomed by a hoarse laughby the rough boys, but appearing to the victims beneath a deliberateinsult. "Are you a man not to avenge this shameful insolence?" criedRobert's friends, Alberic and Ivo de Grantmesnil. In a fury of passion, Robert rushed after the lads with his sword drawn, and King Williamwas roused from his sleep to hear that Lord Robert was murdering hisbrothers. 

The passion and violence of the elder son had the natural effect ofmaking the father take the part of the younger ones, and Robert wasso much incensed, that he rode off with his friends, and, collectingpartisans as he went, attacked Rouen. 

He was of course repulsed, and many of his followers were madeprisoners. He held out in the border counties for a little while, butall his supporters were gained from him by his father, and he at lengthcame back to court, and appeared reconciled. There, however, he hadnothing to do, and all the licentious and disaffected congregatedround him; he idled away half his time, and revelled the rest, and hispretensions magnified themselves all the time in his fancy, till at lasthe was stimulated to demand of his father the cession of Normandy, as aright confirmed to him by the French king. 

William replied by a lecture on disobedience, citing as examples ofwarning all the Absaloms of history; but Robert fiercely answered, thathe had not come to listen to a sermon; he was sick of hearing all thisfrom his teachers, and he would have his answer touching his claim toNormandy. 

The answer he got was, "It is not my custom to lay aside my clothes tillI go to bed. "

It sent him off in a rage, with all his crew of dissolute followers. Hewent first to his uncle in Flanders, then to Germany and Italy, alwayspenniless from his lavish habits, though his mother often sent himsupplies of money by a trusty messenger, called Samson le Breton. However, the King found him out, and reproached Matilda angrily; but shemade answer, "If Robert, my son, were buried seven feet under ground, and I could bring him to life again by my heart's blood, how gladlywould I give it!" The implacable William commanded Samson to be blinded, but he escaped to the monastery of St. Everard, and there became a monk. 

Returning, Robert presented himself to King Philippe of France, who wasglad to annoy his overgrown vassal by patronizing the rebellious son, and accordingly placed Robert in the Castle of Gerberoi, where he mightbest be a thorn in his father's side. There William besieged him, bringing the two younger sons with him, though Henry was but twelveyears old. For three weeks there was sharp fighting; and, finally, abattle, in which the younger William was wounded, and the elder, casedin his full armor of chain mail, encountered unknowingly with Robert, in the like disguising hawberk. The Conqueror's horse was killed; hisesquire, an Englishman, in bringing him another, was slain; and hehimself received a blow which caused such agony that he could notrepress a shriek of pain. Robert knew his voice, and, struck withremorse, immediately lifted him up, offered him his own horse, andassured him of his ignorance of his person; but William, smarting andindignant, vouchsafed no answer, and while the son returned to hiscastle, the father went back to his camp, which he broke up the nextday, and returned to Rouen. 

Robert seems to have been a favorite with the lawless Normans, whowrithed under the mighty hand of his father, and on their interference, backed by that of the French king and the Pope, brought about areconciliation in name. The succession of Normandy was again secured toRobert, but therewith he was laid under a curse by his angry father, whose face he never saw again. 

Other troubles thickened on William. Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, the bold, rough, jovial half-brother, whom he had trusted and loved, was reportedto be full of mischievous plots. He seems to have been told by divinersthat the next Pope was to be named Odo, and, to secure the fulfilmentof the augury, he was sending bribes to Rome, and at the same timecollecting a great body of troops with whom to fight his way thither. He was in the Isle of Wight, preparing to carry his forces to Normandy, when William pounced, on him, and ordered him back again. It is notclear whether he wished to prevent the scandal to the Church, or whetherhe suspected this army of Odo's of being intended to support Robertagainst himself; but, at any rate, he made bitter complaint before thecouncil of the way he had been treated by son, brother, and peer, andsentenced Odo to imprisonment. No one would touch the Bishop, andWilliam was obliged to seize him himself, answering, to Odo's appealto his inviolable orders, "I judge not the Bishop, but my Earl andTreasurer. "

Another grief befell him in 1083, in the death of Matilda, who, it wascurrently believed, pined away with grief at his fury against herbeloved first-born--anger that his affection for her could not mitigate, though he loved her so tenderly that his great heart almost broke ather death, and he never was the same man during the four years that hesurvived her. 

His health began to break; he had grown large and unwieldy, but hisspirit was as fiery as ever, and wherever there was war, there was he. At last, in 1087, there was an insurrection at Mantes, supported by KingPhilippe. William complained, but received no redress. Rude, scornfuljests were reported to him, and the savage part of his nature wasaroused. 

Always, hitherto, he had shown great forbearance in abstaining fromdirect warfare on his suzerain, much as Philippe had often provokedhim, but his patience was exhausted, and he armed himself for a deadlyvengeance. 

His own revolted town of Mantes was the first object of his fury. It washarvest-time, and the crops and vineyards were mercilessly trodden down. The inhabitants sallied out, hoping to save their corn; but the ruthlessking made his way into the city, and there caused house, convent, andchurch alike to suffer plunder and fire, riding about himself directingthe work of destruction. The air was flame above, the ground was burninghot beneath. His horse stumbled with pain and fright; and the large, heavy body of the king fell forward on the high steel front of thesaddle, so as to be painfully and internally injured. He was carriedback to Rouen, but the noise, bustle, and heat of the city wereintolerable to him, and, with the restlessness of a dying man, he causedhimself to be carried to the convent of St. Gervais, on a hill above thetown; but he there found no relief. He felt his time was come, and sentfor his sons, William and Henry. 

The mighty man's agony was a terrible one. "No tongue can tell, " saidhe, "the deeds of wickedness I have wrought during my weary pilgrimageof toil and care. " He tried to weigh against these his good actions, hischurches and convents, his well-chosen bishops, his endeavors to actuprightly and justly; but finding little comfort in these, he bewailedhis own destiny, and how his very birth had forced him into bloodshed, and driven him to violence, even in his youth. 

The presence of his sons brought back his mind from the thought of hiscondition, to that of the disposal of the lands which had become to himmerely a load of thick clay smeared with blood. Normandy, he said, mustbe Robert's; but he groaned at the thought of the misery preparingfor his native land. "Wretched, " he said, "must be the country underRobert's rule; but he has received the homage of the barons, and thegrant once made can never be revoked. To England I dare appoint no heir. Let Him in whose hands are all things, provide according to His will. "

This was his first feeling, but when he saw William's disappointment, he added, that he hoped the choice of the English might fall on hisobedient son. 

"And what do you give me, father?" broke in Henry. 

"A treasure of 5, 000 pounds of silver, " was the answer. 

"What good will the treasure do me, " cried Henry, "if I have neitherland, nor house, nor home?"

"Take comfort, my son, " said his father; "it may be that one day thoushalt be greater than all. "

These words he spoke in the spirit of foreboding, no doubt perceivingin Henry a sagacity and self-command which in the struggle of life wascertain to give him the advantage of his elder brothers; but then, alarmed lest what he had said might be construed as acknowledgingHenry's superior claim as having been born a king's son, he felt itneedful to back up Rufus's claim, and bade a writ be prepared commandingLanfranc to crown William King of England. Affixing his signet, hekissed and blessed his favorite, and sent him off at once to secure theEnglish throne. Henry, too, hurried away to secure his 5, 000 pounds, andthe dying man was left alone, struggling between terror and hope. 

He left sums of money for alms, masses, and prayers; and as an actof forgiveness, released his captives--Earl Morcar, Ulfnoth, theunfortunate hostage, Siward, and Roger de Breteuil, and all the rest;but he long excepted his brother Odo, and only granted his liberation onthe earnest persuasion of the other brother, the Count of Mortagne. 

He slept uneasily at night, awoke when the bells were ringing for lauds, lifted up his hands in prayer, and breathed his last on the 8th ofSeptember, 1087. 

His sons were gone, his attendants took care of themselves, his servantsplundered the chamber and bed, and cast on the floor uncovered themortal remnant of their once dreaded master. And though the clergysoon recollected themselves, and attended to the obsequies of theirbenefactor, carrying the corpse to his own Abbey at Caen, yet eventhere, as has already been said, the cry of the despoiled refused to theConqueror even the poor boon of a grave. 

 CAMEO XII. 

 THE CROWN AND THE MITRE. 

 _Kings of England_. 1087. William II. 1100. Henry I. 

 _King of France_. 1059. Philippe I. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1080. Heinrich IV. 1105. Heinrich V. 

 _Popes of Rome_. 1066. Victor III. 1073. Gregory VII. 1088. Urban II. 1099. Paschal II. 

Great struggles took place in the eleventh century, between thespiritual and temporal powers. England was the field of one branchof the combat, between Bishop and King; but this cannot be properlyunderstood without reference to the main conflict in Italy, between Popeand Emperor. 

The Pope, which word signifies Father, or Patriarch, of Rome, had fromthe Apostolic times been always elected, like all other bishops, by thegeneral consent of the flock, both clergy and people; and, after theconversion of Constantine, the Emperor, as first lay member of theChurch, of course had a powerful voice in the election, could reject anyperson of whom he disapproved, or nominate one whom he desired to seechosen, though still subject to the approval of clergy and people. 

This power was, however, seldom exercised by the emperors at Rome, afterthe seat of empire had been transferred to Constantinople, and theirpower over Italy was diminishing through their own weakness and theGerman conquests. The election continued in the hands of the Romans, and in general, at this time, their choice was well-bestowed; the popeswere, many of them, saintly men, and, by their wisdom and authority, often guarded Rome from the devastations with which it was threatened bythe many barbarous nations who invaded Italy. So it continued until PopeZaccaria quarrelled with Astolfo, King of Lombardy, and summoned theCarlovingian princes from France to protect him. These Italian warsresulted in Charles-le-Magne taking for himself the crown of Lombardy, and in his being chosen Roman Emperor of the West, by the citizens ofRome, under the influence of the Pope; while he, on his side, conferredon the pope temporal powers such as none of his predecessors had enjoyed. 

From thenceforth the theory was, that the Pope was head of the WesternChurch, with archbishops, bishops, clergy, and laity, in regulargradations under him; while the Emperor was in like manner head of theState, kings, counts, barons, and peasants, in different orders belowhim; the Church ruling the souls, the State the bodies of men, and thetwo chieftains working hand in hand, each bearing a mission from above;the Emperor, as a layman, owning himself inferior to the Pope, yet thePope acknowledging the temporal power of the crowned monarch. 

This was a grand theory, but it fell grievously short in the practice. The city of Rome, with its worn-out civilization, was a most corruptplace; and now that the Papacy conferred the highest dignity andinfluence, it began to be sought by very different men, and by verydifferent means, from those that had heretofore prevailed. Bribery andevery atrocious influence swayed the elections, and the wickedness ofsome of the popes is almost incredible. At last the emperors interferedto check the dreadful crimes and profanity at Rome, and thus thenomination of the Pope fell absolutely into their hands, and was takenfrom the Romans, to whom it belonged. 

In the earlier part of the eleventh century, a deacon of Rome, namedHildebrand, formed the design of freeing the See of St. Peter from thesubjection of the emperors, and at the same time of saving it from thedisgraceful power of the populace. The time was favorable, for theEmperor, Henry IV. , was a child, and the Pope, Stephen II. , was ready toforward all Hildebrand's views. 

In the year 1059 was held the famous Lateran Council [Footnote: Socalled from being convoked in the Church at the Lateran gate, on thespot where St. John was miraculously preserved from the boiling oil. ] ofthe Roman clergy, in which it was enacted, that no benefice should bereceived from the hands of any layman, but that all bishops should bechosen by the clergy of the diocese; and though they in many cases heldpart of the royal lands, they were by no means to receive investiturefrom the sovereign, nor to pay homage. The tokens of investiture werethe pastoral staff, fashioned like a shepherd's crook, and the ring bywhich the Bishop was wedded to his See, and these were to be no longertaken from the monarch's hands. The choice of the popes was given to theseventy cardinal or principal clergy of the diocese, who were chieflythe ministers of the different parish churches, and in their hands ithas remained ever since. 

Hildebrand himself was elected Pope in 1073, and took the name ofGregory VII. He bore the brunt of the battle by which it was necessaryto secure the privileges he had asserted for the clergy. Henry IV. Of Germany was a violent man, and a furious struggle took place. TheEmperor took it on himself to depose the Pope, the Pope at the same timesentenced the Emperor to abstain from the exercise of his power, and hissubject; elected another prince in his stead. 

At one time Gregory compelled Henry to come barefooted to imploreabsolution; at another, Henry besieged Rome, and Gregory was onlyrescued from him by the Normans of Apulia, and was obliged to leaveRome, and retire under their protection to Apulia, where he died in1085, after having devoted his whole life to the fulfilment of his greatproject of making the powers of this world visibly submit themselves tothe dominion of the Church. 

The strife did not end with Gregory's death. Henry IV. Was indeeddethroned by his wicked son, but no sooner did this very son, Henry V. , come to the crown, than he struggled with the Pope as fiercely as hisfather had done. 

It was not till after this great war in Germany that the question beganin any great degree to affect England. Archbishop Lanfranc, as anItalian, thought and felt with Gregory VII. ; and the Normans, both hereand in Italy, were in general the Pope's best friends; so that, thoughWilliam the Conqueror refused to make oath to become the warrior of thePope, Church affairs in general made no great stir in his lifetime, andthe question was not brought to issue. 

The face of affairs was, however, greatly changed by the death of theConqueror in 1087. William Rufus was a fierce, hot-tempered man, withoutrespect for religion, delighting in revelry, and in being surroundedwith boisterous, hardy soldiers, whom he paid lavishly, though at thesame time he was excessively avaricious. 

He had made large promises of privileges to the Saxons, in order toobtain their support in case his elder brother Robert had striven toassert his claims; but all these were violated, and when Lanfrancremonstrated, he scoffingly asked whether the Archbishop fancied a kingcould keep all his promises. 

Lanfranc had been his tutor, had conferred on him the order ofknighthood and had hitherto exercised some degree of salutary influenceover him; but seeing all his efforts in vain, he retired to Canterbury, and there died on the 24th of May, 1089. 

Then, indeed, began evil days for the Church of England. William seizedall the revenues of the See of Canterbury, and kept them in his ownhands, instead of appointing a successor to Lanfranc, and he did thesame with almost every other benefice that fell vacant, so that at oneperiod he thus was despoiling all at once--the archbishopric, fourbishops' sees, and thirteen abbeys. At the same time, the miseries heinflicted on the country were dreadful; his father's cruel forest lawswere enforced with double rigor, and the oppression of the Saxons wasterrible, for they were absolutely without the least protection fromany barbarities his lawless soldiery chose to inflict upon them. Everyoppressive baron wreaked his spite against his neighbors with impunity, and Ivo Taillebois [Footnote: See "The Camp of Refuge. "] was not longin showing his malice, as usual, against Croyland Abbey. 

A fire had accidentally broken out which consumed all the charters, except some which were fortunately in another place, where they had beenset aside by Abbot Ingulf, that the younger monks might learn to readthe old Saxon character, and among these was happily the original grantof the lands of Turketyl, signed by King Edred, and further confirmed bythe great seal of William I. 

Ivo Taillebois, hearing of the fire, and trusting that all theparchments had been lost together, sent a summons to the brethren toproduce the deeds by which they held their lands. They despatched a laybrother called Trig to Spalding, with Turketyl's grant under his charge. The Normans glanced over it, and derided it. "Such barbarous writings, "they said, "could do nothing;" but when Trig produced the huge seal, with William the Conqueror's effigy, still more "stark" and rigid thanSir Ivo had known him in his lifetime, there was no disputing itsvalidity, and the court of Spalding was baffled. However, Tailleboissent some of his men to waylay the poor monk, and rob him of hisprecious parchment, intending then again to require the brotherhoodto prove their rights by its production; but brother Trig seems to havebeen a wary man, and, returning by a by-path, avoided pursuit, andbrought the charter safely home. A short time after, Ivo offended theking, and was banished, much to the joy of the Fen country. 

Rapine and oppression were in every corner of England and Normandy, thetwo brothers Robert and William setting the example by stripping theiryoungest brother, Henry, of the castle he had purchased with hisfather's legacy. One knight, two squires, and a faithful chaplain, alonewould abide by the fortunes of the landless prince. The chaplain, Rogerle Poer, had been chosen by Henry, for a reason from which no one couldhave expected the fidelity he showed his prince in his misfortunes, nor his excellent conduct afterward when sharing the prosperity of hismaster. He was at first a poor parish priest of Normandy, and Henry, chancing to enter his church, found him saying mass so quickly, that, quite delighted, the prince exclaimed, "Here's a priest for me!" andimmediately took him into his service. Nevertheless, Roger le Poer wasan excellent adviser, an upright judge, and a good bishop. It was he whocommenced the Cathedral of Salisbury, where it now stands, removing itfrom the now deserted site of Old Sarum. 

Robert had not added much to the tranquillity of the country byreleasing his uncle, the turbulent old Bishop Odo, who was continuallyraising quarrels between him and William. Odo's old friend, Earl Hughthe Wolf, of Chester, [Footnote: See the "Camp of Refuge. "] was at thistime better employed than most of the Norman nobles. He was guarding thefrontier against the Welsh, and at the same time building the heavy redstone pile which is now the Cathedral of Chester, and which he intendedas the Church of a monastery of Benedictines. Fierce old Hugh was areligious man, and had great reverence and affection for one of thepersons in all the world most unlike himself--Anselm, the Abbot of Bec. 

Anselm was born at Aosta, in Piedmont, of noble parents, and was wellbrought up by his pious mother, Ermengarde, under whose influence heapplied himself to holy learning, and was anxious to embrace a religiouslife. She died when he was fifteen years of age, and his father wascareless and harsh. Anselm lost his love for study, and fell intoyouthful excesses, but in a short time her good lessons returned uponhim, and he repented earnestly. His father, however, continued sounkind, and even cruel, that he was obliged to leave the country, andtook refuge, first in Burgundy and then in Normandy, where he sought theinstruction of his countryman, Lanfranc, then Abbot of Bec. 

He learnt, at Bec, that his father was dead, and decided on taking thevows in that convent. There he remained for many years, highly reveredfor his piety and wisdom, and, in fact, regarded as almost a saint. In 1092, Hugh the Wolf was taken ill, and, believing he should neverrecover, sent to entreat the holy Abbot to come and give him comforton his death-bed. Anselm came, but on his arrival found the old Earlrestored, and only intent on the affairs of his new monastery, theregulation of which he gladly submitted to Anselm. The first Abbot wasone of the monks of Bec, and Earl Hugh himself afterward gave up hiscountry to his son Richard, and assumed the monastic habit there. 

Whilst Anselm was on his visit to the Earl of Chester, there was someconversation about him at Court, and some one said that the good Abbotwas so humble that he had no desire for any promotion or dignity. "Notfor the Archbishopric?" shouted the King, with a laugh of derision;"but"--and he swore an oath--"other Archbishop than me there shall benone. "

Some of the clergy about this time requested William to permit prayersto be offered in the churches, that he might be directed to make a fitchoice of a Primate. He laughed, and said the Church might ask what shepleased; she would not hinder him from doing what he pleased. 

He knew not what Power he was defying. That power, in the followingspring, stretched him on a bed of sickness, despairing of life, and inan agony of remorse at his many fearful sins, especially filled withterror at his sacrilege, and longing to free himself from that patrimonyof the Church which seemed to be weighing down his soul. 

Anselm was still with Hugh the Wolf, probably at Gloucester, where theKing's illness took place. A message came to summon him without delay tothe royal chamber, there to receive the pastoral staff of Canterbury. Hewould not hear of it; he declared he was unfit, he was an old man, andknew nothing of business, he was weak, unable to govern the Church insuch times. "The plough should be drawn by animals of equal strength, "said he to the bishops and other friends who stood round, combatting hisscruples, and exulting that the king's heart was at length touched. "Would you yoke a feeble old sheep with a wild young bull?"

Without heeding his objections, the Norman clergy by main force draggedhim into the room where lay the Red King, in truth like to a wild bullin a net, suffering from violent fever, and half mad with impatienceand anguish of mind. He would not hear Anselm's repeated refusals, andbesought him to save him. "You will ruin me, " he said. "My salvation isin your hands. I know God will never have mercy on me if Canterbury isnot filled. "

Still Anselm wept, imploring him to make another choice; but the bishopscarried him up to the bedside, and actually forced open his clenchedhand to receive the pastoral staff which William held out to him. Then, half fainting, he was carried away to the Cathedral, where they chantedthe _Te Deum_, and might well have also sung, "The king's heart is inthe hand of the Lord, as the rivers of water. "

But though William had thus been shown how little his will availed whenhe openly defied the force of prayer, his stubborn disposition wasunchanged, and he recovered only to become more profane than ever. Gundulf, Bishop of Rochester, when congratulating him on hisrestoration, expressed a hope that he would henceforth show more regardto the Most High. "Bishop, " he returned, as usual with an oath, "I willpay no honor to Him who has brought so much evil on me. "

A war at this time broke out between William and his brother Robert, andthe King ordered all his bishops to pay him large sums to maintain hisforces. Canterbury had been so wasted with his extortions that Anselmcould hardly raise 500 marks, which he brought the King, warning himthat this was the last exaction with which he meant to comply. "Keepyour money and your foul tongue to yourself, " answered William; andAnselm gave the money to the poor. 

Shortly after, Anselm expostulated with William on the wretched state ofthe country, where the Christian religion had almost perished; but theKing only said he would do what he would with his own, and that hisfather had never met with such language from Lanfranc. Anselm wasadvised to offer him treasure to make his peace, but this he would notdo; and William, on hearing of his refusal, broke out thus: "Tell himthat as I hated him yesterday, I hate him more to day, and will hate himdaily more and more. Let him keep his blessings to himself; I will havenone of them. "

The next collision was respecting the Pallium, the scarf of black woolwith white crosses; woven from the wool of the lambs blessed by the Popeon St. Agnes' day, which, since the time of St. Augustine, had alwaysbeen given by the Pope to the English Primate. Anselm, who had now beenArchbishop for two years, asked permission to go and receive it; but asit was in the midst of the dispute between Emperor and Pope, there wasan Antipope, as pretenders to that dignity were called--one Guibert, appointed by Henry IV. Of Germany, besides Urban II. , who had beenchosen by the Cardinals, and whose original Christian name was reallyOdo. William went into a great fury on hearing that Anselm regardedUrban as the true Pope, without having referred to himself, convokedthe clergy and laity at Rockingham, and called on them to depose theArchbishop. The bishops, all but Gundulf of Rochester, were in favor ofthe King, and renounced their obedience to the Primate; but the noblesshowed themselves resolved to protect him, whereupon William adjournedthe council, and sent privately to ask what might be gained byacknowledging Urban as Pope. 

Urban sent a legate to England with the Pallium. The King first triedto make him depose Anselm, and then to give him the Pallium instead ofinvesting the Archbishop with it; but the legate, by way of compromise, laid it on the altar at Canterbury, whence Anselm took it up. 

Two years more passed, and Anselm came to beg permission to go to Rometo consult with the Pope on the miserable state of the Church. Williamsaid he might go, but if he did, he himself should take all the manorsof Canterbury again, and the bishops warned him they should be on theking's side. 

"You have answered well, " said Anselm; "go to your lord; I will hold tomy God. "

William banished him for life; but just before he departed, he came tothe King, saying, "I know not when I shall see you again, and if youwill take it, I would fain give you my blessing--the blessing of afather to his son. "

For one moment the Red King was touched; he bowed his head, and the oldman made the sign of the cross on his brow; but no sooner was Anselmgone forth from his presence, than his heart was again hardened, and heso interfered with his departure, that he was forced to leave England inthe dress of a pilgrim, with only his staff and wallet. 

In Italy, Anselm was able to live in quiet study, write and pray inpeace. He longed to resign his archbishopric, but the Pope wouldnot consent; and when Urban was about to excommunicate the King, heprevailed to prevent the sentence from being pronounced. 

William was left to his own courses, and to his chosen friend Ralph, alow-born Norman priest, beloved by the King partly for his qualities asa boon companion, partly for his ingenuity as an extortioner. He wasuniversally known by the nickname of Flambard, or the Torch, and wasbitterly hated by men of every class. He was once very nearly murderedby some sailors, who kidnapped him, and carried him on board a largeship. Some of them quarrelled about the division of his robes, a stormarose, and he so worked on their fears that they at length set him onshore, where William was so delighted to see him that he gave him thebishopric of Durham, the richest of all, because the bishop was also anearl, and was charged to defend the frontier against the Scots. 

He had promised to relax the forest laws, but this was only one of hispromises made to be broken; and he became so much more strict in hisenforcement of them than even the Conqueror, that he acquired thenickname of Ranger of the Woods and Keeper of the Deer. Dogs in theneighborhood of his forests were deprived of their claws, and there wasa scale of punishments for poachers of any rank, extending from the lossof a hand, or eye, to that of life itself. In 1099, another Richard, an illegitimate son of Duke Robert of Normandy, was killed in the NewForest by striking his head against the branch of a tree; and a beliefin a family fate began to prevail, so much so that Bishop Gundulf warnedthe King against hunting there; but William, as usual, laughed him toscorn, and in the summer of 1100 took up his residence in his lodge ofMalwood, attended by his brother Henry, and many other nobles. 

On the last night of July a strange sound was heard--the King callingaloud on St. Mary; and when his attendants came into his chamber, theyfound him crossing himself, in terror from a frightful dream. He badethem bring lights, and make merry, that he might not fall asleep again;but there were other dreamers. With morning a monk arrived to tell thathe had had a vision presaging the King's death; but William brayed hisown misgivings, and laughed, saying the man dreamt like a monk. "Givehim a hundred pence, and bid him dream better luck next time. "

Yet his spirits were subdued all the morning, and it was not till winehad excited him that he returned to his vein of coarse, reckless mirth. He called his hunters round him, ordered the horses, and asked for hisnew arrows--long, firm, ashen shafts. Three he stuck in his belt, theother three he held out to a favorite comrade, Walter Tyrrel, Lord dePoix, saying, "Take them, Wat, for a good marskman should have goodarrows. "

Some one ventured to remind him of his dream, but his laugh was ready. "Do they take me for a Saxon, to be frighted because an old woman dreamsor sneezes?"

The hunters rode off, Walter Tyrrel alone with the King. By-and-by acry rang through the forest that the King was slain. There was an eagergathering into the beech-shaded dell round the knoll of Stoney Cross, where, beneath an oak tree, lay the bleeding corpse of the RedWilliam, an arrow in his heart. Terror fell on some, the hope ofself-aggrandizement actuated others. Walter Tyrrel never drew rein tillhe came to the coast, and there took ship for France, whence he wentto the holy wars. Prince Henry rode as fast in the opposite direction. William de Breteuil (eldest son of Fitz-Osborn) galloped off to securehis charge, the treasury at Winchester, and; when he arrived, found theprince before him, trying to force the keepers to give him the keys, which they refused to do except at their master's bidding. 

Breteuil, who, as well as Henry, had sworn that Robert should reign ifWilliam died childless, tried to defend his rights, but was overpoweredby some friends of Henry, who now came up to the forest; and the nextmorning the prince set off to London, taking with him the crown, andcaused the Bishop of London to anoint and crown him four days after hisbrother's death. 

No one cared for the corpse beneath the oak, and there it lay tillevening, when one Purkiss, a charcoal-burner of the forest hamlet ofMinestead, came by, lifted it up, and carried it on his rude cart, whichdripped with the blood flowing from the wound, to Winchester. 

There the cathedral clergy buried it in a black stone coffin, ridgedlike the roof of a house, beneath the tower of the cathedral, manypeople looking on, but few grieving, and some deeming it shame that sowicked a man should be allowed to lie within a church. These thought ita judgment, when, next year, the tower fell down over the grave, and itwas rebuilt a little further westward with some of the treasure BishopWalkelyn had left. Never did any man's history more awfully show ahardened, impenitent heart, going back again to sin after a greatwarning, then cut off by an instantaneous death, in the full tide ofprosperity, in the very height of health and strength--for he was but inhis fortieth year. 

A spur of William Rufus is still preserved at the forest town ofLyndhurst; Purkiss's descendant still dwells at Minestead; part of theway by which he travelled is called the King's Lane, and the oak longremained at Stoney Cross to mark the spot where the King fell; and when, in 1745, the remains of the wood mouldered away, a stone was set up inits place; but the last of the posterity of William the Conqueror's"high deer" were condemned in the course of the year 1831. 

 A Minestead churl, whose wonted trade Was burning charcoal in the glade, Outstretched amid the gorse The monarch found: and in his wain He raised, and to St. Swithin's fane Conveyed the bleeding corse. 

 And still--so runs our forest creed-- Flourish the pious woodman's seed, Even in the self-same spot: One horse and cart, their little store, Like their forefather's, neither more Nor less, their children's lot. 

 And still in merry Tyndhurst hall Red William's stirrup decks the wall; Who lists, the sight may see. And a fair stone in green Mai wood, Informs the traveller where stood The memorable tree. 

 Thus in those fields the Red King died, His father wasted in his pride, For it is God's command Who doth another's birthright rive, The curse unto his blood shall cleave, And God's own word shall stand. 

Who killed William Rufus? is a question to which the answer becomes moredoubtful in proportion to our knowledge of history. Suspicion attachedof course to Tyrrel, but he never owned that the shaft, either by designor accident, came from his bow, and no one was there to bear witness. Some think Henry Beauclerc might be guilty of the murder, and he wasboth unscrupulous enough and prompt enough in taking advantage of thecircumstance, to give rise to the belief. Anselm was in Auvergne when heheard of the King's death, and he is said to have wept at the tidings. He soon received a message from Henry inviting him to return to England, where he was received with due respect, and found that, outwardly atleast, order and regularity were restored in Church matters, and theclergy possessed their proper influence. Great promises were madeto them and to the Saxons; and the hated favorite of William, RalphFlambard, was in prison in the Tower. However, he contrived to make hisescape by the help of two barrels, one containing wine, with which heintoxicated his keepers, the other a rope, by which he let himself downfrom the window. He went to Robert of Normandy, remained with him sometime, but at last made his peace with Henry, and in his old age was atolerably respectable Bishop of Durham. 

Anselm was in favor at court, owing to the influence of the "good QueenMaude, " and he tried to bring about a reformation of the luxuries thenprevalent especially long curls, which had come into fashion with theNormans of late. Like St. Wulstan, he carried a knife to clip them, but without making much impression on the gay youths, till one of themhappened to dream that the devil was strangling him with his own longhair, waked in a fright, cut it all off, and made all his friends do sotoo. 

As long as Henry was afraid of having his crown disputed by Robert, he took care to remain on excellent terms with the Church, and Anselmsupported him with all his influence when Robert actually asserted hisrights; but when the danger was over, the strife between Church andState began again. In 1103, Henry appointed four bishops, and requiredAnselm to consecrate them, but as they all had received the staff andring from the King, and paid homage for their lands, he considered thathe could not do so, conformably with the decree of the Lateran Councilagainst lay investiture. Henry was much displeased, and ordered theArchbishop of York to consecrate them; but two of them, convinced byAnselm, returned the staff and ring, and would not be consecrated by anyone but their true primate. 

Henry said that one archbishop must consecrate all or none, and thewhole Church was in confusion. Anselm, though now very old, offered togo and consult the Pope, Paschal II. , and the King consented; but whenPaschal decided that lay investiture was unlawful, Henry was so muchdispleased that he forbade the archbishop to return to England. 

The old man returned to his former Abbey of Bec, and thus remained inexile till 1107, when a general adjustment of the whole question tookplace. The bishops were to take from the altar the ring and staff, emblems of spiritual power, and to pay homage to the king for theirtemporal possessions. The election was to belong to the cathedralclergy, subject to the King's approval. The usual course became that theKing should send to the chapter a _congé d'élire_, that is, permissionto elect, but accompanied by a recommendation of some particular person;and this nominee of the crown was so constantly chosen, that the customof sending a _congé d'élire_ has become only a form, which, however, isan assertion of the rights of the Church. 

A similar arrangement with regard to the presentation of bishops wasaccepted in 1122 by Henry V. Of Germany, who married Matilda, thedaughter of Henry I. 

After the arrangement in 1107, Anselm returned to England, and goodQueen Maude came to meet him and show him every honor. His last year wasspent at Canterbury, in a state of weakness and infirmity, terminated byhis death on the 21st of April, 1109. 

A gentle, studious man was the pious Anselm, our second Italianarchbishop, thrust into the rude combat of the world against his will, and maintaining his cause and the cause of the Church with untiringmeekness and quiet resolution. 

 CAMEO XIII. 

 THE FIRST CRUSADE. (1095-1100. )

 _King of England_. William II. 

 _King of France_. Philippe II. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. Heinrich IV. 

 _Pope_. Urban II. 

In the November of 1095 was seen such a sight as the world neverafforded before nor since. The great plain of La Limagne, in Auvergne, shut in by lofty volcanic mountains of every fantastic and rugged form, with the mighty Puy de Dome rising royally above them, was scatteredfrom one boundary to the other with white tents, and each little villagewas crowded with visitants. The town of Clermont, standing on anelevation commanding the whole extent of the plain, was filledto overflowing, and contained a guest before whom all bowed inreverence--the Pope himself--Urban II. , whom the nations of the Westwere taught to call the Father of Christendom. Four hundred Bishopsand Abbots had met him there, other clergy to the amount of 4, 000, andprinces, nobles, knights, and peasants, in numbers estimated at 30, 000. Every one's eye was, however, chiefly turned on a spare and sunburntman, of small stature, and rude, mean appearance, wearing a plain, darkserge garment, girt by a cord round his waist, his head and feet bare, and a crucifix in his hand. All looked on his austere face with theveneration they would have shown to a saint, and with the curiosity withwhich those are regarded who have dared many strange perils. He wasPeter the Hermit, of Picardy, who had travelled on pilgrimage toJerusalem; had there witnessed the dreadful profanities of the infidels, and the sufferings they inflicted on the faithful; had conversed withthe venerable Patriarch Simeon; nay, it was said, while worshippingat the Holy Sepulchre, had heard a voice calling on him to summon thenations to the rescue of these holy spots. It was the tenth day ofthe council at Clermont, and in spite of the severe cold, the clergyassembled in the open air on the wide space in front of the dark stonecathedral, then, as now, unfinished. There was need that all shouldhear, and no building could contain the multitudes gathered at theirsummons. A lofty seat had been raised for the Pope, and Peter the Hermitstood by his side. 

All was silence as the Hermit stood forth, and, crucifix in hand, pouredforth his description of the blasphemy of the infidels, the desolationof the sacred places, and the misery of the Christians. He had seen thevery ministers of God insulted, beaten, even put to, death: he had seensacrilege, profanation, cruelty; and as he described them, his voicebecame stifle, and his eyes streamed with tears. 

When he ceased, Urban arose, and strengthened each word he had spoken, till the whole assembly were weeping bitterly. "Yes, brethren, " saidthe Pope, "let us weep for our sins, which have provoked the anger ofheaven; let us weep for the captivity of Zion. But woe to us if ourbarren pity leaves the inheritance of the Lord any longer in the handsof his foes. "

Then he called on them to take up arms for the deliverance of the HolyLand. "If you live, " said he, "you will possess the kingdoms of theEast; if you die, you will be owned in heaven as the soldiers ofthe Lord; Let no love of home detain you; behold only the shame andsufferings of the Christians, hear only the groans of Jerusalem, andremember that the Lord has said, 'He that loveth his father or mothermore than Me is not worthy of Me. Whoso shall leave house, or father, ormother, or wife, or children, and all that he has, for My sake, shallreceive an hundredfold, and in the world to come eternal life. '"

"_Deus vult; Deus vult;_"--It is God's will--broke as with one voicefrom the assembly, echoing from the hills around, and pealing with avoice like thunder. 

"Yes, it is God's will, " again spoke Urban, "Let these words be yourwar-cry, and keep you ever in mind that the Lord of Hosts is with you. "Then holding on high the Cross--"Our Lord himself presents you His ownCross, the sign raised aloft to gather the dispersed of Israel. Bear iton your shoulders and your breast; let it shine on your weapons and yourstandards. It will be the pledge of victory or the palm of martyrdom, and remind you, that, as your Saviour died for you, so you ought to diefor Him. " Outcries of different kinds broke out, but all were for theholy war. Adhemar de Monteil, Bishop of Puy, a neighboring See, firstasked for the Cross, and thousands pressed after him, till the numbersof Crosses failed that had been provided, and the cardinals and otherprincipal persons tore up their robes to furnish more. 

The crusading spirit spread like circles from a stone thrown into thewater, as the clergy of the council carried their own excitement totheir homes, and the hosts who took the Cross were beyond all reckoning. On the right or wrong of the Crusades, it is useless as well asimpossible to attempt to decide. It was doubtless a spirit of religion, and not of self-interest, that prompted them; they were positively thebest way of checking the progress of Mahometanism and the incursions ofits professors, and they were undertaken with far purer intentions thanthose with which they were carried on. That they afterward turned togreat wickedness, is not to be denied; some of the degenerate Crusadersof the latter days were among the wickedest of mankind, and the misuseof the influence they gave the Popes became a source of some of theworst practices of the Papacy. Already Pope Urban was taking on him todeclare that a man who perished in the Crusade was sure of salvation, and his doctrine was still further perverted and falsified till itoccasioned endless evils. 

Yet, in these early days, joined with many a germ of evil, was agrandeur of thought, a self-devotion, and truly religious spirit, whichwill hardly allow us to call the first Crusade other than a glorious anda Holy War. 

It was time, politically speaking, to carry the war into the enemy'squarters, and repress the second wave of Mahometan conquest. Islam[Footnote: Islam, meaning "the faith;" it is a barbarism to speak ofthe faith of Islam. ] has often been called the religion of the sword, and Mahomet and his Arabic successors, under the first impulse, conquered Syria, Persia, Northern Africa, and Spain, and met their firstcheck at Tours from Charles Martel. These, the Saracen Arabs, were agenerous race, no persecutors, and almost friendly to the Christians, contenting themselves with placing them under restrictions, and exactingfrom them a small tribute. After the first great overflow, the tide hadsomewhat ebbed, and though a brave and cultivated people, they wereeverywhere somewhat giving way on their orders before the steadyresistance of the Christians. Probably, if they had continued inPalestine, there would have been no Crusades. 

But some little time before the eleventh century, a second flood beganto rush from the East. A tribe of Tartars, called Turcomans, or Turks, embraced Mahometanism, and its precepts of aggression, joining with thewarrior-spirit of the Tartar, impelled them forward. 

They subdued and slaughtered the Saracens of Syria, made wide conquestsin Asia Minor, winning towns of the Greek Empire beyond where theSaracens had ever penetrated, and began to threaten the borders ofChristendom. They were very different masters from the Arabs. Activein body, but sluggish in mind, ignorant and cruel, they destroyedand overthrew what the Saracens had spared, disregarded law, andcapriciously ill-treated and slaughtered their Christian subjects andthe pilgrims who fell into their hands. It was against these savageTurks that the first Crusade was directed. 

Peter the Hermit soon gathered together a confused multitude ofpeasants, women, and children, with whom he set out, together witha German knight named Walter, and called by his countrymen by theexpressive name _Habe Nichts_, translated into French, _Sans avoir_, andless happily rendered in English, _The Penniless_. They were a poor, ignorant, half-armed set, who so little knew what they were undertaking, that at every town they came to they would ask if that was Jerusalem. Peter must either have been beyond measure thoughtless, or have expecteda miracle to help him, for he set out to lead these poor creaturesthe whole length of Europe without provisions. They marauded on theinhabitants of the countries through which they passed; the inhabitantsrevenged themselves and killed them, and the whole wretched host werecut off, chiefly in Hungary and Bulgaria, and Peter himself seems tohave been the only man who escaped. 

A better-appointed army, consisting of the very flower of chivalry ofEurope, had in the meantime assembled to follow the same path, though ina different manner. 

First in name and honor was Godfrey de Bouillon, Duke of Lorraine, oneof the most noble characters whom history records. He was pure in life, devotedly pious, merciful, gentle, and a perfect observer of his word, at the same time that his talents and wisdom were very considerable;he was a finished warrior, expert in every exercise of chivalry, ofgigantic strength, and highly renowned as a leader. He had been loyalto the Emperor Henry IV. Through the war which had taken place inconsequence of his excommunication by Gregory VII. He had killed inbattle the rebellious competitor for the imperial crown, who, when dyingfrom a wound by which he had lost his right hand, exclaimed, "With thishand I swore fealty to Henry; cursed be they who led me to break myoath. " Godfrey had likewise been the first to scale the walls of Rome, when Henry IV. Besieged Gregory there; but he, in common with manyothers of the besieging force, soon after suffered severely from malariafever--the surest way in which modern Rome chastises her invaders; andthinking his illness a judgment for having taken part against the Pope, he vowed to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Soon after, the Crusade waspreached, and Godfrey was glad to fulfil his vow with his good sword inhis hand, while Pope and princes wisely agreed that such a chieftain wasthe best they could choose for their expedition. 

Many another great name was there: Raymond, the wise Count of Toulouse;the crafty Boemond, one of the Normans of Sicily; his gallant cousin, Tancred, a mirror of chivalry, the Achilles of the Crusade; but ourlimits will only allow us to dwell on those through whom the Crusade isconnected with English history. 

The Anglo-Normans had not been so forward in the Crusade as theirenterprising nature would have rendered probable, but the fact was, that, with such a master as William Rufus, no one felt that he couldleave his home in anything like security. Helie de la Flèche, Count deMaine, [Footnote: Robert of Normandy had been betrothed in his childhoodto the heiress of Maine, but she died before she was old enough for themarriage to take place. In right of this intended marriage, the NormanKings claimed Maine, though Helie was the next heir. ] took the Cross, and asked William for some guarantee that his lands should not bemolested. "You may go where you like, " said William; "I mean to haveyour city. What my father had, I will have. "

"It is mine by right, " said Helie; "I will plead it with you. "

"I will plead, too. " said William; "but my lawyers will be spears andarrows. "

"I have taken the Cross; my land is under Christ's own protection. "

"I only warn you, " said William, "that if you go, I shall pay the goodtown of Mans a visit, with a thousand lances at my heel. "

So Helie stayed at home, and in two years' time was made a prisoner whenin a wood with only seven knights. Mans was seized, and he was broughtbefore the King. "I have you now, my master, " said William. 

"By chance, " said Helie; "but if I were free, I know what I would do. "

"What would you do, you knave?" said William. "Hence, go, fly, I giveyou leave to do all you can; and if you catch me, I ask nothing inreturn. "

Helie was set at liberty, and the next year, while William was absentin England, managed to retake Mans. The Red King was hunting in theNew Forest when he heard the tidings; he turned his horse's head andgalloped away, as his father had once done, with the words, "He wholoves me, will follow. " He threw himself into a ship, and ordered thesails to be set, though the wind was so boisterous that the sailorsbegged him to wait. "Fools, " he said, "did you ever hear of a drownedking?" He cruelly ravaged Maine, but could not take the city, and, having been slightly wounded, returned to meet his fate in the NewForest. 

After this story, no one could wonder that it required a great deal ofenthusiasm to persuade a man to leave his inheritance exposed to thegrasp of the Red King, who, unlike other princes, set at nought theanathemas by which the Pope guarded the lands of absent Crusaders. Stephen, Count de Blois, the husband of William's sister Adela, took theCross. He was wise in counsel, and learned, and a letter which he wroteto his wife is one of the chief authorities for the early part of theexpedition; but his health was delicate, and it was also said that hispersonal courage was not unimpeachable; at any rate, he soon returnedhome. 

One of the foremost of the Crusaders was, however, our own NormanPrince, Robert Courtheuse. Every one knows the deep stain ofdisobedience on Robert's early life; and yet so superior was he to hisbrothers in every point of character, that it is impossible not toregard him with a sort of affection, though the motto of his wholecareer might be, "Unstable as water, thou shalt not excel. "

Never was man more completely the tool of every villain who gainedhis ready ear. It was the whisper of evil counsellors that fired hisjealousy of his young brothers, and drove him into rebellion against hisfather; the evil counsel of William led him to persecute Henry, lovinghim all the time: and when in possession of his dukedom, his careless, profuse habits kept him in constant poverty, while his idle good-natureleft unpunished the enormities of the barons who made his countrymiserable. 

But in generosity he never failed; he heartily loved his brothers, whileduped and injured by them again and again; he always meant to be trueand faithful, and never failed, except from hastiness and weakness; andwhile William was infidel, and Henry hypocritical, he was devout andsincere in faith, though miserably defective in practice. 

The Crusade was the happiest and most respectable period of his life, and no doubt he never was more light-hearted than when he delivered overto William the mortgage of his dukedom, with all its load of care, andreceived in return the sum of money squeezed by his brother from allthe unfortunate convents in England, but which Robert used to equip hisbrave knights and men-at-arms, assisted by some of the treasures ofhis uncle, Bishop Odo, who had taken the Cross, but was too feeble andinfirm to commence the expedition. 

The Crusaders were not sufficiently advanced in the knowledge ofnavigation to attempt to enter Palestine by sea, and they thereforetraversed Germany, Hungary, and the Greek Empire, trusting to theEmperor Alexis Comnenus to give them the means of crossing theHellespont. Alexis was in great dread of his warlike guests; the schismbetween the Greek and Roman Churches caused continual heart-burnings;and at the same time he considered, very naturally, that all the landsin the East at present occupied by the Mahometans were his right. Hewould not, therefore, ferry over the Crusaders to Asia till they hadsworn allegiance to him for all that they might conquer, and it was along time before Godfrey would comply. At last, however, on conditionthat the Greeks would furnish them with guides and reinforcements, theytook the oaths; but as Alexis did not fulfil his part of the engagement, they did not consider themselves bound to him. 

At Nicea, the Crusading army, of nineteen different nations, of whom100, 000 were horse and 500, 000 infantry, came in sight of the Turks, and, after a long siege and several hotly-contested battles, wonthe town. They continued their march, but with much suffering anddifficulty; Raymond of Toulouse had an illness which almost brought himto the grave, and Godfrey himself was seriously injured by a bear, whichhe had attacked to save the life of a poor soldier who was in dangerfrom its hug. He killed the bear, but his thigh was much torn, and hewas a long time recovering from the effects of his encounter. 

At the siege of Antioch were their chief disasters; they suffered fromhunger, disease, inundations of the Orontes, attacks of the enemy, untilthe living were hardly enough to bury the dead. The courage of many gaveway; Robert of Normandy retired to Laodicea, and did not return till hehad been three times summoned in the name of the Christian Faith; andPeter the Hermit himself, a man of more enthusiasm than steadiness, began to despair, and secretly fled from the camp in the night. As hisdefection would have done infinite harm to the cause, Tancred pursuedhim and brought him back to the camp, and Godfrey obliged him to swearthat he would not again leave them. In the spring of 1098 a great battletook place, in which Godfrey, Robert, and Tancred each performed featsof the highest prowess. In the midst of the battle, Tancred made hisesquire swear never to reveal his exploits, probably as a mortificationof his own vanity in hearing them extolled. After a siege of more thanseven months, Boemond effected an entrance by means of an understandingwith some of the Eastern Christians within the town. It was taken, withgreat slaughter, and became a principality ruled by the Sicilian Norman. 

Another great victory opened the way to Palestine, and the Crusadersadvanced, though still very slowly. During the march, one of theknights, named Geoffroi de la Tour, is said to have had a curiousadventure. He was hunting in a forest, when he came upon a lionstruggling in the folds of a huge serpent; he killed the serpent, andreleased the lion, which immediately fawned upon him and caressed him. It followed him affectionately throughout the Crusade, but when heembarked to return to Europe, the sailors refused to admit the lion intotheir vessel. The faithful creature plunged into the sea to follow itsmaster, swam till its strength was exhausted, and then sank and wasdrowned. [Footnote: Michaud's _Histoire des Croisades_ gives this storyfrom two authorities. ]

It was on a glowing morning of June, 1098, that the Crusading host, Tancred first of all, came in sight of the object of all theirtoils--the City set upon a Hill. 

There it stood, four-square, on the steep, solid, fortification-likerocks, rising from the rugged ravines, Kedron, Siloam, Jehoshaphat, Gehenna, that form, as it were, a deep moat round the walls, and naturaldefences, bulwarks planted by the Lord's own hand around His own City, while He was still her Tower of Salvation, and had not left her to thespoiler. There stood the double walls, the low-built, flat-roofed, windowless houses, like so many great square blocks, here and thereinterspersed with a few cypresses and aloes, the mighty Tower of David, the Cross of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, and far above it, alas!the dome of the Mosque of Omar, with its marble gates and porphyrypillars, on the flat space on Mount Moriah, where the Temple had onceflashed back the sunlight from its golden roof. 

Jerusalem, enslaved and profaned, but Jerusalem still; the Holy City, the mountain whither all nations should turn to worship, the sacred namethat had been spoken with reverence in every holiest lesson, the termof all the toils they had undergone. "Jerusalem! Jerusalem!" cried theforemost ranks. Down fell on their knees--nay, even prostrate on theirfaces--each cross-bearing warrior, prince and knight, page and soldier. Some shouted for joy, some kissed the very ground as a sacred thing, some wept aloud at the thought of the sins they had brought with them, and the sight of the tokens of Zion's captivity--the Dome and theCrescent. Then once more their war-cry rose as with one voice, and MountZion and Mount Olivet echoed it back to them, "_Deus vult! Deus vult!_"as to answer that the time was come. 

But Jerusalem was only in sight--not yet won; and the Crusaders had muchto suffer, encamped on the soil of iron, beneath the sky of brass, whichis part of the doom of Judea. The vineyards, cornfields, and olive-treesof ancient times had given place to aridity and desolation; and theChristian host endured much from heat, thirst, and hunger, while theirassaults on the walls were again and again repelled. They pressedforward their attacks as much as possible, since they could not longexist where they were. 

Three great wooden towers were erected, consisting of different stagesor stories, where the warriors stood, while they were wheeled up to thewalls. Godfrey, Raymond, and Tancred each had the direction of one ofthese towers, and on the fourteenth of July the general assault began. The Turks, on their side, showered on them arrows, heavy stones, andGreek fire--an invention consisting of naphtha and other inflammablematerials, which, when once ignited, could not be quenched by water, but only by vinegar. It was cast from hollow tubes, and penetrating thearmor of the Christians, caused frightful agonies. 

Raymond's tower was broken down or burnt; Godfrey and Tancred foughton, almost overpowered, their warriors falling round them, the enemyshouting with joy and deriding them. At the moment when the Crusaderswere all but giving way, a horseman was seen on the Mount of Olives, hisradiant armor glittering in the sun, and raising on high a white shieldmarked with the red Cross. "St. George! St. George!" cried Godfrey'ssoldiers; "the Saints fight for us! _Deus vult! Deus vult!_" and on theyrushed again in an ecstasy of enthusiasm that nothing could resist. Somebroke through a half-opened breach, some dashed from the wooden towers, some scaled the fortifications by their ladders, the crowd came overthe walls like a flood, and swept all before them with the fury of thatimpulse. 

There was a frightful slaughter; the Crusaders, brought up in a pitilessage, looked on the Saracens as devoted to the sword, like the Canaanitenations, and spared not woman or child. The streets streamed with blood, and the more merciful chieftains had not power to restrain the carnage. Raymond did indeed save those who had taken refuge in the Tower ofDavid, and Tancred sent three hundred in the Mosque of Omar his owngood pennon to protect them, but in vain; some of the other Crusadersmassacred them, to his extreme indignation, as he declared his knightlyword was compromised. 

Godfrey had fought on as long as resistance lasted, then he threwhimself from his horse, laid aside his helmet and gauntlets, bared hisfeet, and ascended the hill of Calvary. It was Friday, and the ninthhour of the day, when the Christian chief entered the circular-vaultedchurch, and descended, weeping at once for joy and for sorrow, intothe subterranean crypt, lighted with silver lamps--the Holy Sepulchreitself, where his Lord had lain, and which he had delivered. Farfrom the sound of tumult and carnage, there he knelt in humility andthankfulness, and in time the rest of the chieftains gathered thitheralso--Tancred guided by the chant of the Greek Christians who had takenrefuge in the church. Peter the Hermit sang mass at the altar, and thusnight sunk down on Jerusalem and the victorious Christians. 

The following days confirmed the conquest, and councils began to be heldon the means of securing it. A King was to be elected, and it is saidthat the crown was offered to Robert of Normandy, and declined by him. Afterward, by universal consent, Godfrey de Bouillon was chosen to beKing of Jerusalem. 

He accepted the office, with all its toils and perils, but he wouldneither bear the title nor crown. He chose to leave the title of King ofJerusalem to Him to whom alone it belonged; he would not wear a crown ofgold where that King had Worn a crown of thorns, and he kept only hisknightly helmet, with the title of Defender and Baron of the HolySepulchre. 

Well did he fulfil his trust, ever active, and meeting the infidels withincreasing energy wherever they attacked him; but it was only for oneyear. The climate undermined his health; he fell sick of a fever, anddied in July, 1100, just one year from the taking of Jerusalem. He liesburied in the Church of the Holy Sepulchre, beneath a stone bearingthese words: "Here lieth the victorious Duke Godfrey de Bouillon, whowon all this land to the Christian faith. May whose soul reign withChrist. " His good sword is also still kept in the same church, and waslong used to dub the Knights of the Holy Sepulchre. 

 CAMEO XIV. 

 THE ETHELING FAMILY. (1010-1159. )

 _Kings of England_. Knute and his sons. Edward. Harold. William I. William II. Henry I. 

 _Kings of France_. Henry I. Philippe I. Louis VI. 

When, in 1016, the stout-hearted Edmund Ironside was murdered by EdricStreona, he left two infant sons, Edmund and Edward, who fell into thepower of Knute. 

These children were placed, soon after, under the care of OlafScotkonung, King of Sweden, who had been an ally of their grandfather's, and had sent to England to request that teachers of the Gospel mightcome to him. By these English clergy he had been baptized, and hiscountry converted, so that they probably induced him to intercede withKnute for the orphan princes. Shortly after, a war broke out betweenDenmark and Sweden, and Olaf, believing, perhaps, that the boys wereunsafe in the North, where Knute's power was so great, transferred themto Buda, to the care of Stephen, King of Hungary. 

It was a happy home for them. Stephen, the first king of Hungary, wasa most noble character, a conqueror and founder of a kingdom, humble, devout, pious, and so charitable that he would go about in disguise, seeking for distressed persons. He was a great lawgiver, and drew up anadmirable code, in which he was assisted by his equally excellent sonEmeric, and was the first person who in any degree civilized the Magyarrace. His son Emeric died before him, leaving no children; and, afterthree years of illness, Stephen himself expired in 1038. His name hasever since been held in high honor, and his arched crown, half-Roman, half-Byzantine, was to the Hungarians what St. Edward's crown is tous. After Hungary was joined to the German Empire, there was still aseparate coronation for it, and it was preserved in the castle of Buda, under a guard of sixty-four soldiers, until the rebellion of 1848, whenit was stolen by the insurgents, and has never since been recovered. 

After Stephen's death, there was a civil war between the heathen Magyarsand the Christians, ending in the victory of the latter, and theestablishment of Andrew in the kingdom. This was in 1051, and it wasprobably the sister-in-law of this Andrew whom the Saxon prince Edwardmarried. All we are told about her is, that her name was Agatha, andthat she was learned and virtuous. 

In 1058, Edward, the only survivor of the brothers, was invited by hiscousin, the childless Confessor, to return to England, and there beowned as Etheling, or heir to the crown. He came, but after his fortyyears' absence from his native country, his language, habits, andmanners were so unlike those of the English, that he was always known bythe name of Edward the Stranger. 

After two years, both the Stranger and his wife Agatha died, leavingthree young children, Christina, Margaret, and Edgar, of whom the boywas the youngest. His only inheritance, poor child, was his title ofEtheling, declaring a claim which was likely to be his greatest peril. Edward the Confessor passed him entirely over in disposing of hiskingdom; and as he was but six, or, as some say, ten years old, Haroldseems to have feared no danger from him, but left him at liberty withinthe city of London. 

There he remained while the battles of Stamford Bridge and Hastings werefought, and there, when the tidings came that the Normans had conquered, the little child was led forth, while a proclamation was made before himthat Edgar was King of England. But it was only a few faithfulcitizens that thus upheld the young descendant of Alfred. Some werefaint-hearted, others were ambitious; Edwin and Morkar said they wouldsupport him if the bishops would; the bishops declared that the Popefavored the Normans. The Conqueror was advancing, and from the walls ofLondon the glare of flame might be seen, as he burnt the villages ofHertfordshire and Surrey, and soon the camp was set up without thewalls, and the Conqueror lodging in King Edward's own palace ofWestminster. The lame Alderman Ansgard was carried in his litter to holdsecret conference with him, and returned with promises of security forlives and liberties, if the citizens would admit and acknowledge KingWilliam. They dreaded the dangers of a seige, and gladly accepted hisproposal, threw open their gates, and came forth in procession toWestminster to present him with the keys, basely carrying with them thehelpless boy whom they had a few weeks before owned as their king. 

Edgar was a fair child, of the old Saxon stamp of beauty, with flaxenhair and blue eyes; and the Duke of Normandy, harsh as he usually was, received him affectionately. Perhaps he thought of his own orphanhood atthe same age, and the many perils through which he had been preserved, and pitied the boy deprived of his kingdom, without one faithful handraised to protect him, and betrayed to his enemies. He took him in hisarms, kissed him, promised him favors and kindness, and never broke thepromise. 

For the next two years Edgar remained at the court of William, until thegeneral spirit of hatred of the Normans began to incite the Saxons torise against them. Cospatric, Earl of Durham, thought it best to securethe safety of the royal children, and, secretly withdrawing Edgar andhis two sisters from the court, he embarked with them for the Continent, intending to take them to their mother's home in Hungary. 

Contrary winds drove the ship to Scotland, and there the orphans werebrought to King Malcolm III. Never had an apparent misfortune beenin truth a greater blessing. Malcolm had but seven years before beenhimself a wandering exile, sheltered in the court of Edward theConfessor, after his father, the gracious Duncan, was murdered, and theusurper Macbeth on the throne. He had venerated the saintly Confessor, and remembered the untimely death of the Stranger, which had left thesechildren friendless in what was to them a foreign land; and he owed hisrestoration to his throne to the Saxon army under old Siward Bjorn. Gladto repay his obligations, he conducted the poor wanderers to his castleof Dumfermline, treated them according to their rank, and promised toassert Edgar's claim to the crown. 

He accordingly advanced into England, where, in many places, partialrisings were being made on behalf of "England's darling, " as the Saxonballads called young Edgar, after his ancestor Alfred. It was, however, all in vain: Malcolm did not arrive till the English had been defeatedon the banks of the Tyne, and the Normans avenging their insurrectionby such cruel devastation, that nine years after the commissioners ofDomesday Book found no inhabitants nor cultivation to record betweenYork and Durham. 

There is some confusion in both the English and Scottish historiesrespecting Malcom's exertions in Edgar's cause; indeed, the Borderwarfare was always going on, and now and then the King took part init. At length William and Malcolm, each at the head of an army, metin Galloway, and after standing at bay for some days, entered into atreaty. Malcolm paid homage to the English King for the two Lothians andCumberland, and at the same time secured the safety of Edgar Etheling. The boy solemnly renounced all claim to the English crown, engagingnever to molest the Conqueror or his children in their possession of it;while, on the other hand, he was endowed with estates in England, and apension of a mark of silver a day was settled upon him. He could not atthis time have been more than fourteen--there is more reason to think hewas but ten years old--but the oath that he then took he kept with themost unshaken fidelity, in the midst of temptations, and of examples ofsuccessful perjury. 

He returned with his friend to Scotland, where, the next year, hisbeautiful sister Margaret consented to become the wife of theirhost, the King Malcolm; but Christina, the other sister, preferred aconventual life, though she seems for the present to have continued withMargaret at Dumfermline. 

Gentle Margaret, bred in some quiet English convent; taught by hermother to remember the Greek cultivation and holy learning of good KingStephen's court; perhaps blessed by the tender hand of pious Edward theConfessor, and trained by the sweet rose, Edith, sprung from the thorn, Godwin; she must have felt desolate and astray among the rude, savageScots, wild chiefs of clans, owning no law, full of brawling crime andviolence, too strong to be kept in order by force, and their wivesalmost as untamed and rude as themselves. Her husband was a rough, untutored warrior, ruling by the main force of a strong hand, and askingcounsel of his own honest heart and ready wit, but perfectly ignorant, and probably uncouth in his appearance, as his appellation of Cean Mohrmeans Great-head. 

But Margaret was a true daughter of Alfred, and the traditions of theAlfred of Hungary were fresh upon her, and, instead of sitting down tocower alarmed amid the turmoils round her, she set herself to conquerthe evils in her own feminine way, by her performance of her queenlyduties. She was happy in her husband: Malcolm revered her saintly purityeven more than he loved her sweet, sunny, cheerful manner, or admiredher surpassing loveliness of person. He looked on her as something tooprecious and tender for his wild, rugged court, and attended to herslightest bidding with reverence, kissing her holy books which he couldnot read, and interpreting her Saxon-spoken advice to his rude Celts. She even made him help her to wash the feet of the poor, and aid her indisgusting offices to the diseased, and his royal treasury was open toher to take all that she desired for alms. Sometimes she would pretendto take it by stealth, and Malcolm would catch her by the wrists andcarry her to her confessor, to ask if she was not a little thief whodeserved to be well punished. In his turn he would steal away her books, and bring them back after a time, gilt and adorned with beautifulilluminations. 

The love and reverence with which so bold a warrior treated her, together with her own grace and dignity, had its effect on the unrulyScottish chieftains, and not one of them ventured to use a profane word, or make an unseemly jest before her. They had a rude, ungodly practiceof starting away from table without waiting for grace, and this thegentle queen reformed by sending, as an especial gift from herself, acup of wine to all who remained. In after times the last cup was called, after her, St. Margaret's cup, or the grace-cup. 

To improve the manners of the ladies, she gathered round her a number ofyoung girls, whom she brought up under her own eye, and she used to sitin the midst of them, embroidering rich vestments for the service ofthe Church, and permitting cheerful talk with the nobles whom sheadmitted--all men of whose character she had a good opinion. Sheendeavored to reform the Scottish Church which had become very sluggish, and did little to contend with Highland savagery. There were only threeBishops and those not with fixed sees. Margaret and her husband conveneda synod, when Margaret herself explained her views, and Malcolminterpreted. It was not a usual order of things, but to themselves quitesatisfactory, and thenceforth the Scottish Church became assimilatedto the rest of the Western communion. It was a Saxon immigration: theLowlands became more English than England then was, and Scotch is stillmore like Saxon than the tongue we speak. But the Celts bitterly hatedthe change; and thenceforth the land was divided. 

She was gay and playful; but her fasts and mortifications in secret werevery great. She cut off unnecessary food and sleep, and spent half thenight in prayer. She daily washed the feet of six poor people, andwashed, clothed, and fed nine orphan babes, besides relieving all whocame to ask her bounty, attending to the sick, and sending to ransomcaptives, especially her own countrymen the English, lodging her rescuedprisoners in a hospital which she had founded, till they could be sentto their own homes. 

Leading this happy and holy life, Edgar left his sister about two yearsafter her marriage, upon an invitation from Philippe I. Of France; buthe was shipwrecked on the coast of Normandy, and coming to Rouen, waskindly received by William, and remained with him. A close friendshipsprung up between the disinherited Etheling and Robert the heirof Normandy, who was only a year or two older. Both were brave, open-hearted, and generous, and their love for each other endured, onEdgar's side, through many a trial and trouble. Happy would it have beenfor Robert had all his friends been like Edgar Adeling, as the Normanscalled him. A few years more made Edgar a fine young man, expert in theexercises of chivalry, and full of the spirit of enterprise: but he didnot join his friend in rebellion against his father; and after Roberthad quitted Rouen, never to return thither in his father's lifetime, heobtained permission from William to go on pilgrimage, gave his pensionfor a fine horse, and set off for Italy with two hundred knights, foughtthere, or in Sicily, against the Saracens, for some time, and thencontinued his pilgrimage. 

He returned through Constantinople, where many of the English fugitiveswere serving in the Varangian guard. The Emperor Alexius Comnenus wasmuch pleased with him, and offered him high preferment if he wouldremain with him; but Edgar loved his own country too well, and proceededhomeward. 

He found a changed state of affairs on his arrival in Normandy. Williamthe Conqueror was dead, and Robert, with the aid of Henry Beauclerc, just preparing to assert his right to the English crown against RedWilliam. Edgar Etheling offered his sword to assist his friend; but hewas shamefully treated. William came to Normandy, sought a conferencewith Robert, cajoled or outwitted him into a treaty in which one of theconditions was that he should withdraw his protection from both Edgarand Henry, and deprive the former of all the lands in Normandy whichtheir father had given him. 

Edgar retired to Scotland to his sister Margaret, whom he found themother of nine children, continuing the same peaceful, active life inwhich he had left her, and her holy influence telling more and more uponher court. Many Saxons had come to live in the lowlands of Scotland, and the habits and manners of the court of Dumfermline were being fastmodelled on those of Westminster in the time of Edward and Edith. 

Malcolm and William Rufus were at war, and Edgar accompanied hisbrother-in-law to the banks of the Tyne, where they were met by Williamand Robert. No battle took place; but Edgar and Robert, meeting onbehalf of the two kings, arranged a treaty of peace. In return for thisservice, William permitted Edgar to return to England, being perhapspersuaded by Robert and Malcolm that the English prince was a man of hisword, though to his own hindrance. 

The peace, thus effected did not last long, most unhappily for Scotland. Malcolm, with his two eldest sons, Edward and Edmund, invaded England, and laid siege to Alnwick Castle, leaving the Queen at Edinburgh, seriously ill. At Alnwick the Scottish army was routed, and Malcolm andEdward were slain. The tradition is, that one of the garrison pretendedto surrender the castle, by giving the keys, through a window, on thepoint of a lance; [Footnote: Curiously in accordance with this story wefind, in the Bayeux tapestry, the surrender of Dinan represented by thedelivery of the keys in this manner to William the Conqueror. ] but thathe treacherously thrust the weapon into the eye of Malcolm, and thuskilled him. The story adds that thus the soldier acquired the name ofPierce-eye, or Percy; which is evidently incorrect, since the Percys ofAlnwick trace their origin to William de Albini, who married HenryBeauclerc's second queen, Alice of Louvain. 

An instant disturbance prevailed on the King's death. His army fled indismay; his corpse was left on the ground, till a peasant carried it toTynemouth; his men were dispersed, slain, or drowned in their flight;his young son Edmund, a stripling of eighteen or nineteen, justcontrived to escape to Edinburgh Castle. The first tidings that met himthere were, that his mother was dying; that she lay on her bed in greatanxiety for her husband and sons, and finding no solace except in holdinga fragment of the true Cross pressed to her lips, and repeating thefifty-first Psalm. 

The poor youth, escaped from a lost battle, and bearing such dreadfultidings, was led to her presence at once. 

"How fares it with your father and brother?" said she. 

He feared to tell her all, and tried to answer, "Well;" but sheperceived how it was too plainly, and holding out the Holy Cross, commanded him to speak the truth. "They are slain, mother--both slain!"

Margaret's thoughts must have rushed back to the twenty-three years ofuninterrupted affection she had enjoyed with her lord, to her gallantson, slain in his first battle, and onward to the unprotected state ofthe seven orphans she left in the wild kingdom. Agony indeed it was; butshe blessed Him who sent it. "All praise be to Thee, everlasting God, who hast made me to suffer such anguish in my death. "

She lingered on a few hours longer, while storms raged around. The wildCelts hated Malcolm's improvements and Saxon arts of peace, and hisbrother Donald was placing himself at their head to deprive his lawfulbrothers of their heritage. A troop of Highlanders were on their way tobesiege Edinburgh Castle, even when the holy Queen drew her last breath;and her friends had barely time to admire the sweet peacefulness thathad spread over her wasted features, before they were forced to carryher remains away in haste and secrecy, attended by her weeping, trembling children, to Dumfermline Abbey, where she was buried. 

Her children, seven in number (for Ethelred, the eldest, had died ininfancy), were left unprotected. Edmund was only eighteen, and timidand gentle. Donald seized the crown; and the orphans remained in greatdanger, till their brave uncle, Edgar Etheling, learnt the fataltidings, and, coming from England, fetched them all home with him, giving the two girls, Edith and Mary, into the care of their auntChristina, who was now Abbess of Wilton. It was at some danger tohimself that he took the desolate children under his protection. A mannamed Orgar accused him to William Rufus of intending to raise hisnephews to the English crown. A knight, named Goodwin, no doubt of Saxonblood, no sooner heard the aspersion, than he answered by avowing thehonor and faithfulness of his Etheling, threw down his glove, and defiedOrgar to single combat--"God show the right. " It was shown; Orgar fell, and Saxons and Normans both rejoiced, for the Etheling had made himselfmuch beloved. 

The Crusade was preached, and Robert invited Edgar to join in it; but hecould not forsake the charge of his sister's children, and was forced toremain at home. Revolutions, however, continued in Scotland. Donald wasoverthrown by Duncan, a son of Malcolm, born long before his marriage;and the Lowland Scots were impatient of the return to barbarism. Duncanwas killed, and Donald restored. Edgar hoped that his nephews mightbe restored. Edmund had chosen to renounce the throne and embrace areligious life; but the next in age, Edgar and Alexander, were spiritedprinces, and eager to assert their right. 

The Etheling had never shed blood to regain his own lost kingdom; but hewas a true knight-errant and redresser of wrongs. He asked leave fromWilliam to raise a Saxon army to restore his nephew to the Scottishthrone; and such was the reliance that even the scoffer William hadlearnt to place on his word, that it was granted. The English flockedwith joy round their "darling, " wishing, without doubt, that it was forthe restoration of the Saxon, instead of the Scottish Edgar, that theytook up arms. 

At Durham the monks of St. Cuthbert intrusted to the Etheling theirsacred standard--a curious two-winged ensign, with a cross, that wascarried on a car. It was believed always to bring victory, and at thefirst sight of it Donald's men abandoned him, and went over to Edgar. Donald was made prisoner, and soon after died. Young Edgar assumed thecrown, sent for the rest of his family, and had a happy and prosperousreign. 

Had Edgar Etheling been selfish and ambitious, he might now, at thehead of his victorious Saxons, have had a fair chance of dethroning thetyrant William; but instead of this, his thoughts were fixed on the HolyLand; and embarking with his willing army, he came up with the Crusadersjust in time for the siege of Jerusalem, where the English, under "EdgarAdeling, " fought gallantly in the assault in the portion of the armyassigned to Robert of Normandy. 

Edgar and Robert returned together, and visited the Normans of Apulia, where Edgar had been some years before. Robert here fell in love withSybilla, the beautiful daughter of the Count of Conversana, and soonafter married her. It was in the midst of the wedding festivities thatRalph Flambard, lately the wicked minister of William Rufus, arrivedfrom England, having escaped from prison, bringing the news that hismaster, the Red King, was slain, and Henry Beauclerc wore the crown. Thehasty wrath of Duke Robert was quickly fanned by Ralph Flambard, and heset off at once to attack his brother, and gain the kingdom which Henryhad sworn should be his. 

However, on his arrival, he at first only amused himself with conductinghis bride through his dukedom, and being feasted at every castle. Whentwo knights of Maine came to tell him that Helie de la Flèche wasbesieging their castles, he carelessly thanked them for their fidelity, but told them he had rather gain a kingdom, than a county, and so thatthey should make the best terms they could. 

Sybilla's dowry enabled Robert to raise a considerable army, and he hadlikewise the support of most of the barons whose estates lay both inNormandy and England, and who therefore preferred that the two statesshould be united; whereas those who had only domains in England heldwith Henry, wishing to be free from the elder and more powerful nobilityof Normandy. The Anglo-Saxons were for Henry, who had relieved them fromsome of their sufferings, and had won their favor by his marriage, whichconnected him with the Etheling. Edith, the eldest daughter of the goodQueen Margaret, had remained with her aunt Christina in the Abbey ofWilton, after her brother had been made King of Scotland. She was likeher mother in many respects; and her aunt wished to devote her to thecloister, and secure her from the cruel sorrows her mother had endured, under the black veil that she already wore, like the professed nuns, toshield her from the insults of the Norman knights, or their attempts tosecure a princess as a bride. But Edith remembered that her fatherhad once said that he destined her to be a queen, and not a nun. Sherecollected how her mother had moulded her court, and been loved andhonored there, and her temper rebelled against the secluded life in theconvent, so much that, in a girlish fit of impatience, she would, whenher aunt was out of sight, tear off her veil and trample upon it. 

At length the tidings came that Henry, the new King of England, wooedthe Princess of Scotland for his bride. 

A marriage of policy it evidently was; for, unlike the generous lovethat had caused Malcolm to espouse the friendless exile Margaret, Henrywas a perjured usurper, and dark stories were told of his conduct inNormandy. Christina strongly and vehemently opposed the marriage, as thegreatest calamity that could befall her niece: she predicted that, ifEdith persisted in it, only misery could arise from it; and when shefound her determined, tried to prove her to be already bound by thepromises of a nun. 

Here Christina went too far: a court was held by Archbishop Anselm, and it was fully proved that the Lady Edith was under no vows. She wasdeclared free to marry, and in a short time became the wife of Henry, changing her own Saxon name to the Norman Matilda, or Maude. In thefirst year of her marriage, when Henry was anxious to win the favorof the English, he conformed so much to their ways that the scornfulNormans used to call him and his young wife by the Saxon names of Godricand Godiva. The Saxons thus were willing to stand by King Henry, allexcepting the sailors, who were won by Robert's spirit of enterprise, and deserting, with their whole fleet, went to Normandy, and broughtRobert and his army safe to Portsmouth. 

This happened just as Edith Maude had given birth to her first child, at Winchester. Robert was urged to assault the city; but he refrained, declaring such would be an unknightly action toward his sister-in-lawand her babe. Henry soon came up with his forces, the brothers held aconference, and, as usual, Robert was persuaded to give up his rights, and to make peace. 

For the next four years Robert continued in Normandy, leading a gay andcareless life at first with his beautiful Sybilla; but she soon died, leaving an infant son, and thenceforward his affairs grew worse andworse, as he followed only the impulse of the moment. From riot anddrunkenness he fell into fits of devotion, fasting, weeping, andpraying; his poverty so great that he was at one time obliged to lie inbed for want of garments to wear; and his dukedom entirely uncared for, fields left uncultivated, and castles which were dens of robbers. 

The Normans begged that some measures might be taken for their relief, and King Henry came, and, with Robert's consent, set things on a betterfooting; but meanwhile he was secretly making arrangements with thebarons for the overthrow of his brother. In two years' time he hadtempted over almost every baron to desert the cause of their master, andin 1106 prepared to wrest the dukedom from him. The unfortunate Robertcame to him at Northampton, almost alone, forced himself into hispresence, and told him he would submit everything to him, if he wouldonly leave him the state and honor due to his birth. Henry turned hisback on him, muttering some answer which Robert could not hear, andwhich he would not repeat. In a passion, Robert reproached him with hisill faith and cruel, grasping temper, left him hastily, and returned toRouen, to make a last sad struggle for his inheritance. 

He placed his child in the Castle of Falaise, obtaining a promise fromthe garrison that they would give up their trust to no summons but hisown, or that of a trusty knight called William de Ferrières. Hardly avassal would rally round him in his dire distress; his only supporterswere two outlawed barons, whom Henry had driven out of England for theirviolence, and besides these there were two faithful friends of hisyouth, whose swords had always been ready in his cause, except in theunhappy war against his father. One was Helie de St. Saen, the otherwas Edgar Etheling, who quitted his peaceful home, and all the favor heenjoyed in England as uncle to the Queen, to bear arms for his despoiledand injured friend. 

Henry invaded Normandy, and all the nobles came over to his side. Robertmet him before the Castle of Tenchebray, and the two armies prepared forbattle the next day. In the evening a, hermit came to the English camp;his head strewn with ashes, and a cord about his waist. He conjuredHenry to cease from his unnatural war with a brother who had been asoldier of the Cross, "his brow still shining with traces of the crownof Jerusalem, " and prevailed so far as to gain permission to go andpropose terms of peace to the Duke of Normandy. On coming into hispresence, the hermit begged to kiss the feet which had trodden thepavement of the Holy Sepulchre, and then exhorted Robert to be contentedwith the kingdom reserved for him in heaven. He declared Henry's termsvery hard ones; but the Duke would have accepted them, but that he wasrequired to own himself vanquished; and against this his haughty spiritrevolted. He cast aside all offers of accommodation, and prepared forbattle. 

The fight of Tenchebray took place on St. Michael's Eve, 1106, the dayforty years since the Battle of Hastings; and when the Saxons in Henry'sarmy turned Robert's Normans to flight, they rejoiced as if they werewiping out the memory of the defeat of Harold. Yet in the vanquishedarmy was their own Etheling, the darling of England, who was madeprisoner together with the unfortunate Robert, and led before Henry. Itwas the last battle in which the two friends fought side by side; thedisinherited prince had fought for the son of the despoiler for the lasttime, and soon they were to part, to spend the many remaining years oftheir lives in a far different manner. 

Robert was made to summon the surrender of Rouen, and Ferrières was sentto receive Falaise, and the little William, heir of Normandy; but thefaithful garrison would not yield till Henry had conducted thither theDuke himself, who called on them to surrender, lest the castle should betaken by the wicked outlaw De Belesme. Little William was brought to theKing, and his tears and caresses for a moment touched Henry's heartso far that he gave the child into the charge of Helie de St. Saen, Robert's faithful friend, and husband of his illegitimate daughter. 

It was the last time Robert of Normandy saw the face of his only child. The boy went to Arques with the faithful Helie, while Robert was sentto England, and imprisoned in Cardiff Castle. At first he was honorablytreated, and allowed to indulge in hunting and other amusements; but hemade an attempt to escape, and was only recaptured in consequence of hishorse having plunged into a bog, whence he could not extricate himself. After this he was more closely guarded, and it is said that his eyeswere put out; but there is reason to hope that this may not be true. Hewas under the charge of Robert, an illegitimate son of Henry, who hadmarried Amabel Fitzaymon, heiress of Gloucester, and who was a noble, high-minded, chivalrous person, likely to do all in his power to cheerhis uncle's captivity. 

Here Robert from time to time heard of his son: first, how Henry hadsent messengers to seize him when St. Saen was absent from Arques; buthappily they came on a Sunday morning, when the child was at church, and the servants, warned in time, carried him off to meet their bravemaster. Then Helie chose to forfeit lands and castle rather than give uphis trust, and conducted his little brother-in-law from court to court, wherever he could hope for security, till young William was grown up, and raised an army, with the aid of Louis of France and Foulques ofAnjou, to recover his inheritance and rescue his father. But Foulqueswas detached from the alliance by the betrothal of his daughter toHenry's son William, and the battle of Brenville ruined the hopes ofWilliam of Normandy. Next, Robert learnt that the male line of theCounts of Flanders had failed, and his son, as the representative ofMatilda, the Conqueror's wife, had been owned as the heir of that richcountry. Shortly after, the captive Duke was one morning found weeping. He had had a dream, he said, in which he had seen his son dying of awound in the hand. The tidings came in due time that William had beenaccidentally pierced by the point of a lance in the hand, the wound hadmortified, and he expired at the end of a week. The prisoner still livedon, till, in the twenty-eighth year of his captivity, death at lengthreleased him. There is a story of his having starved himself to death ina fit of anger, because Henry had sent him a robe after wearing it once;but this is very improbable. Robert had reached a great age, and hiswas a character which was likely to be much improved when absent fromtemptation and with time for thought. He lies buried in GloucesterCathedral, under an effigy carved in bog oak, with the legs crossed, inmemory of his crusade, but unfortunately painted in such a manner as toentirely to spoil its effect. 

Edgar Etheling was soon allowed to ransom himself, and retiring to hisown estates, lived there in peace. His niece, the good Queen Maude, lived on in the English Court, trying to imitate her mother in hercharities, and being, like her, much beloved by the poor, to whose wantsshe ministered with her own hands; while her youngest brother David, then a gay-tempered youth, used to laugh at her for such mean toils, ashe called them. No help, such as her father had given St. Margaret, didMaude receive from her husband; she had only the pain of watching hisharshness, cruelty, and hypocrisy, during the eighteen years of hermarriage. She died in 1118, leaving three children--Maude, alreadymarried to the Emperor of Germany, and William and Richard. WilliamEtheling is reported to have been as proud as his sister Maude, and tohave talked of using the churl Saxons as beasts of burden. But thereare stories more in his favor. He seemed generously disposed toward hiscousin, the son of Robert; and he met his death in an attempt to savelife, so that it may be hoped that he was not entirely unworthy of thegood old name of Etheling, which he bore as heir to the throne. 

Our Etheling Edgar lived on in peace through all the troublous times ofStephen, without again appearing in history, till his death is noted in1159, ninety-three years after the Norman Conquest. 

It has been the fashion to call him a fool and a coward; and no doubtthe ambitious men who broke oath after oath, and scrupled at noviolence, so esteemed one whose right was the inheritance over whichthey quarrelled. Whether he was a fool, may be answered by showingthat, after he was fourteen, his name was never once brought forward byfactious men for their own purposes; that he conducted a treaty withScotland, and restored his nephew to the throne: and whether he was acoward, no one can ask who has heard of him hastening to attack theSaracens of Apulia, invading warlike Scotland, leading the English toscale the walls of Jerusalem, and, lastly, fighting in a cause thatcould only be desperate, in a battle that _must_ be lost, where he hadno personal interest, and only came to aid a distressed and injuredfriend. No one can inquire into the history of the last of the race ofAlfred without acknowledging in him one of the most perfect examples oftrue chivalry, in inviolate adherence to his word, and in redressing ofgrievances, for which his good sword was ever ready, though for his ownrights it was never drawn, nor was one drop of English blood shed thatEdgar Etheling might reign. 

 CAMEO XV. 

 THE COUNTS OF ANJOU. (888-1142. )

Having traced the ancestry of our Norman kings from the rocks of Norwayand the plains of Neustria, let us, before entering on the new racewhich succeeded them, turn back to the woodland birthplace of the houseof Plantagenet, on the banks of the Loire. 

The first ancestor to whom this branch of our royal line can be tracedis Torquatus, a native of Rennes in Brittany, and keeper of the forestof Nid de Merle in Anjou, for the Emperor Charles the Bald. Of RomanGallic blood, and of honest, faithful temper, he was more trusted byhis sovereign than the fierce Frank warriors, who scarcely owned theirprince to be their superior; and in after times the counts and kings hisdescendants were proud of deriving their lineage from the stout Woodmanof the Blackbird's Nest. 

His son Tertullus distinguished himself in battle, and died early, leaving an only son, named Ingelger, who was godson to the Countess deGastinois, and was brought up in her castle, the school of chivalry and"courtoisie" to the young vassals of the county. 

The lady was heiress of Gastinois in her own right, and as the monarchhad the power of disposing of his wards in marriage, she had beenobliged to give her hand to the seneschal of Charles the Bald, a personwhom she much disliked. One morning her husband was found dead in hisbed; and his nearest relation, whose name was Gontran, accusing her ofhaving murdered him, laid claim to her whole inheritance. 

The cause was brought before Charles the Bald, at Chateau Landon; andGontran offered to prove his words by the ordeal of battle, takingoff his gauntlet and throwing it down before the Emperor. Unless thecountess could find a champion to maintain her innocence, or unlessGontran was overthrown in single combat, she would be completelyruined, adjudged a murderess, and forced to hide her disgrace in aconvent. None of the knights present would undertake her cause; andafter gazing round at them in despair, she fainted away. 

Her godson Ingelger, who attended her as a page, could not bear thesight of her distress, and, as a last hope, threw himself on his kneesbefore the Emperor, entreating that, though he was only sixteen, and inthe last grade of chivalry, he might be allowed to take up the gauntlet, and assert the innocence of his godmother. 

Permission was granted; and Ingelger, trusting to the goodness ofhis cause, spent the night in prayer, went in early morning with thecountess to hear mass, and afterward joined her in giving alms to thepoor; then she hung a reliquary round his neck, and sent him to arm forthe decisive combat. 

The whole court were spectators; the Emperor Charles on his throne, andthe accused widow in a litter curtained with black. Prayers were offeredthat God would show the right; the trumpets sounded, and the championsrode in full career against each other. At the first onset Gontran'slance pierced his adversary's shield, so that he could not disengage it, and Ingelger was thus enabled to close with him, hurl him to the ground, and dispatch turn with a dagger. Then, while the lists rung withapplause, the brave boy rushed up to his godmother, and threw himselfinto her arms in a transport of joy. 

The countess, thus cleared, only desired to retire from the world, andbesought the Emperor's consent to her bestowing all her lands on heryoung defender. It was readily granted; and shortly after Charlesgave him, in addition, the government of the city of Angers, and theadjoining county of Anjou, whence he derives his title. [Footnote: Manysimilar tales of championship will occur to every one, in romance andballad. The Ginevra of Ariosto, our own beautiful English ballad of SirAldingar, where it is an angel in the form of a "tinye boy, " who appearsto vindicate the good fame of the slandered and desolate queen, the "SirHugh le Blond of Arbuthnot, in Scotland. " Perhaps this story may be theroot of all the rest. It is recorded in the "Gesta Andegavorum, " in thecompilation of which a descendant of Ingelger had a considerable share. ]

Little more is known of the first Count of Anjou, except that he bravelyresisted the Northern pirates; and for his defence of the clergy ofSt. Martin of Tours was rewarded by a canonry, and the charge of thetreasure of the chapter. He died in 888, and was succeeded by his sonCount Foulques le Roux, or the Red. From this time the house of Anjoubegan to acquire that character of violence, ambition, and turbulence, which distinguished the whole family, till, six hundred years after, thelast of the race shed her blood on the scaffold of the Tower of London. It therefore seems appropriate here to give the strange, wild story towhich they were wont to attribute their family temper, though it isgenerally told of one who came later in the line. It was said that thecount observed that his wife seldom went to church, and never at thecelebration of mass; and believing that she had some unholy dealings tocause this reluctance, he put her to the proof, by causing her to beforcibly held throughout the service by four knights. At the moment ofconsecration, however, the knights found the mantle alone in their hands;the lady had flown through the window, leaving nothing behind her but therobe, and a fearful smell of brimstone!

From the witch-countess, as she was called, her sons were thought toderive the wild energy and fierce mutual hatred which raged for so manycenturies, and at last caused the extinction of the line. Foulques leRoux was certainly not exempt, for he was believed to be the murderer ofhis own brother. His eldest son, Geoffrey, called the Beloved of Ladies, died before him; and Foulques, who succeeded him, though termed "_lebon_, " had little claim to such a title, unless it was derived from hislove of learning and his friendship with the monks of Tours. 

He composed several Latin hymns for the use of the Cathedral, and alwaystook part in the service on high festivals in his canonical dress, ashereditary treasurer. 

Once, when King Louis IV. Was present, he and his courtiers irreverentlyamused themselves during the service by making jests on the clericalcount. A few days after, Louis received the following letter:

 "The Count of Anjou to the King of France. Hail. Learn, my liege Lord, that an unlettered King is no better than a donkey with a crown on. "

In spite of his devotion, to St. Martin, Foulques sacrilegiously robbedthe treasury of two golden vessels, and did not restore them till asevere illness brought him to the point of death. The Bretons accuse himof a horrible crime. He married the widow of Duke Alan _barbe torte_, who brought with her to Angers her infant son, the little Duke Drogo. The child died, and the Bretons believed that, for the sake of retainingthe treasure brought by his subjects, his stepfather had murdered him, by pouring boiling water on his head while his body was in a cold bath, so that, the two streams mingling, it might appear that he had been onlyplaced in tepid water. 

However this might be, a war broke out between the Angevins and Bretons, and there was bitter hatred between the two races, which is scarcelyyet at an end. Indeed, an Angevin Count could hardly in these days be apeaceable man, bordering on such neighbors as Brittany, Normandy, andPoitou. The Angevins were much more French than any of these neighbors;and their domain being smaller, they generally held by the King. Theywere his hereditary grand seneschals, carving before him on greatoccasions; and Geoffrey Grise gonnelle, who succeeded Foulques le Bonin 958, was on the side of the crown in all the war with Richard theFearless of Normandy. His ogre-like surname of Grise gonnelle simplymeans gray gown, and is ascribed by the chronicle of Anjou to thefollowing chivalrous adventure:

In the course of the war with Normandy, when Harald Bluetooth'sNorwegians were ravaging France, and were encamped before the wallsof Paris, a gigantic Berserk daily advanced to the gate of the city, challenging the French knights to single combat. Several who acceptedit fell by his hand; and King Lothaire forbade any further attempts toattack him. Count Geoffrey was at this time collecting his vassals tocome to the King's assistance; and no sooner did he hear of the defianceof the Northman, than, carried away by the spirit of knight-errantry, hebade his forces wait for him at Chateau Landon; and, without divulginghis purpose, rode off, with only three attendants, to seek theencounter. He came to the bank of the Seine in early morning, caused amiller to ferry him and his horse across the river, leaving his squireson the other side, and reached the open space before the walls in timeto hear and answer the Northman's daily challenge. The duel ended in thedeath of the giant, and was witnessed by the French on the walls; butthey did not recognize their champion, and before they could come downto open the gates, and thank him, he was gone. He had cut off theenemy's head, and, bidding the miller carry it to the King, crossed theSeine again, met his squires at the mill, and rejoined his vassals atLandon, without letting any one know what had happened. 

Lothaire was very anxious to know who the champion was; but all themiller could tell him was, that it had been a man of short stature, andslight, active figure, a capital horseman, whom he was sure he shouldknow again anywhere. In due time the nobles collected with their troops, and Geoffrey among them. When they were in full assembly, Lothaireintroduced the miller, bidding him say whether the knight-errant waspresent. The man fixed his eyes on the Count of Anjou, who wore acassock of coarse gray wool over his armor. "Yes, " he said, "'tis he--_àla grise gonnelle_. "

It is also said that Geoffrey took his name from his frequentpilgrimages to Rome, in which he wore the gray "palmer's amice. " He wasa favorable specimen of the Angevin character, the knight-errant elementpredominating over its other points, and rendering him honorable anddevout, and not more turbulent than could be helped by a feudal chief ofthe tenth century. He died near Saumur, while besieging the castle of arefractory vassal, in the year 987. 

His son Foulques was surnamed Nerra, an old form of Le Noir, or TheBlack. The name was derived from his complexion; but he merited it byhis disposition, for he was the most wicked of all the counts of Anjou. He was very able, and, though little in stature, and lame, usually madehis wars turn out much to his advantage. In personal prowess he by nomeans equalled his father; indeed, there was a Danish warrior, whoguarded the town of Saumur for the Count de Blois, that he dreadedso much as always to gallop at full speed through the neighborhood, whenever he was obliged to pass that way. However, he was not backwardto risk his person on occasion, and in a battle with the Count de Bloisat Amboise was severely wounded, his standard taken, and his troopsforced to retreat, when his vassal, the alert Herbert _Eveille chiens_, of Mans, came up with fresh troops, fell on the men of Blois as theywere bathing and resting after the battle, cried the Angevin war-cry, "Rallie! rallie!" [Footnote: "Go at then again!" evidently the origin of"to rally. "] and taking them by surprise, turned the fortune of the day. This victory extended Foulques' domain to the bank of the Loire, andenabled him to lay siege to Saumur. The citizens were too few to defendboth gates, and, by the advice of the monks of St. Florent, resolved tocommit the defence of one to the relics of St. Doucelin, which had thereputation of working miracles. The reliquary was placed full before theeastern gate, in the hope that either the Augevins would be afraid tobreak through, or that some evil consequence might ensue on theirattempting it, and the Saumurois went to protect their western gate. However, Foulques Nerra seldom let scruples interfere, and marched inwithout regard to the saint. He was very cruel to his prisoners, andwith his own hand thrust out the eye of one who reproached him with hisunworthy treatment. He built new walls round Saumur, for which he wasobliged to destroy some buildings belonging to the monastery of St. Florent, and as he set fire to them with his own hand, he called out tothe saint to beg his pardon, swearing to build him a much finer house. 

It was the practice of Foulques Nerra to commit frightful crimes, andthen to expect to atone for them by vehemence in penance and devotion. He was recklessly barbarous in his wars, and a cruel tyrant to hispeople, filling his castle with miserable prisoners. He married a ladynamed Hildegarde, a pious and gentle dame, whose influence had someeffect in calming his fierce passions and lessening his cruelty; buttheir son Geoffrey Martel was as wild and violent as himself, thoughwith more generosity. A quarrel broke out, Geoffrey rebelled, wasconquered, and his father obliged him to come and ask pardon, crawlingon all fours, with a saddle on his back. 

"So, sir, you're tamed!" said the count, putting his foot on his neck. 

"True! but by no one but my father, " the proud youth made answer. AndFoulques was so pleased, that he took him into favor again. 

Foulques Nerra was a great founder of churches and convents, and made noless than four pilgrimages to the Holy Land, in the third of which hetravelled part of the way with another ancestor of our kings, Robert theMagnificent of Normandy. In the last, his penance exceeded all that hadyet been seen at Jerusalem. He stripped himself to his waist, and wentbarefoot to the Holy Sepulchre, followed by two servants, whom heobliged to beat him with rods, while at each step he exclaimed, "O Lord, have pity on the wretched, perjured traitor Foulques!"

Such violent penances are repugnant to all our ideas, and if these rudewarriors believed that by them their crimes could be atoned, they weregrievously mistaken: but at the same time it must be remembered thatthey were intended as tokens of repentance; and that, as we have seen inthe humiliation of the rebellious son of the count himself, it was thefashion to punish the body, because the mind was too little cultivatedto be alone addressed. 

Foulques III. Died at Metz, in the course of his return from thispilgrimage, in the year 1039. His son Geoffrey, called Martel, or theHammer, was a great warrior. William the Conqueror was his chief enemy, and the curious challenge that once passed between them has beenrelated. Indeed, Henry I. Of France, who was in dread of both, promotedtheir quarrels by making a grant to William of all that he might be ableto win from Anjou; and the Angevins had given bitter offence to the Dukeof Normandy when he was besieging the town of Hambrières, by hanging uphides over the walls, and shouting, "_A la pel! à la pel!_" (The hide!the hide!) in allusion to his mother being the daughter of a tanner. 

Their chief dispute was about the county of Maine--a name of evil omento their descendants. The only daughter of Count Herbert _Eveillechiens_ (Wake-dog) was betrothed to Robert Courtheuse; and though shedied before the marriage took place, William claimed the county for hisson on Herbert's death. Geoffrey, who was the feudal lord of Maine, tookthe part of the next heir, and invaded Normandy. On the river Dive, Geoffrey, with his chief followers, was imprudent enough to cross by anarrow bridge, leaving the main body of the troops on the other side, where they were attacked by William. The bridge gave way, and theAngevin army was destroyed in the sight of its lord. 

This disaster broke the spirit of Geoffrey Martel. He was still ayoung man, but he was worn out with disappointment. He had been twicemarried--the second time to a very learned lady, named Grecia, who isfamous for having bought a book of homilies for two hundred sheep, twelve measures of cheese, as much barley and millet, besides eightmarks of silver and some marten skins. Neither wife brought him anychildren: and at Whitsuntide, 1060, he sent for his two nephews, thesons of his sister Ermengarde, and divided his lands between them;giving Touraine and Landon to the eldest, Geoffrey the Bearded, andAnjou to Foulques, called _Le Réchin_, or The Quarrelsome, then onlyseventeen, whom he knighted. He died the next Martinmas, in the robes ofa monk; and thenceforth Foulques proved his right to his surname by hisperpetual wars and disputes with his brother. Geoffrey _le Barbu_ isfamed for nothing but his misfortunes, and for a curious suit which hehad with the monks of St. Florent respecting some woods on the banks ofthe Loire, which they declared to have been granted them by FoulquesNerra. They brought witnesses to support their claim, as they had notitle-deeds; and Geoffrey agreed to have recourse to the judgment ofHeaven, as a proof whether the testimony was true or false. The ordealwas to be by hot water. A great fire was lighted in the Church of St. Maurice, at St. Angers, and a cauldron of water placed on it, into whichwas plunged an old forester who had borne witness for the convent. Without appearing to suffer inconvenience from the heat, he repeatedwhat he had formerly said and Geoffrey was obliged to abide by theresult of the ordeal. The monks proceeded to cut down the woods, andsupplied their place by the vineyards which have ever since been thepride of the Loire. 

The strife respecting lay investiture was the ruin of the beardedGeoffrey; he claimed the investiture of the Abbot of Marmoutiers asa temporal baron, and thus caused himself to be excommunicated. Hisvassals fell from him and he became an easy prey to his brotherFoulques, who threw him into the castle of Chinon, and kept him prisonerfor thirty years. 

Foulques IV. , le Réchin, was a scholar, and wrote a Latin history ofAnjou, of which, however, only a fragment is preserved. He was as wickedas most of the race, fierce, violent, and voluptuous. He was no longer ayoung man, and had been twice married and once divorced (one traditionsays that he was the husband of the demon-countess), when, in 1089, hecast his eyes on the beautiful young Bertrade, daughter of the Count deMontfort, and promised Duke Robert of Normandy to make over to him thecounty of Maine, if he would use his influence with her parents toobtain her for him. 

The Count de Montfort would not give up his daughter to the wicked oldAngevin, till Robert, in his usual weak, good-natured fashion, hadyielded up a number of his own frontier castles as her purchase. Foulques did indeed put Maine into his hands; but he did not keep itlong, for Helie de la Flèche set up his claim, and maintained it as wehave seen. Nor did Foulques gain much by his bargain; for Bertrade hadno perfection but her beauty, and, in the fourth year of her marriage, abandoned him and her infant son, and went to the court of Philippe I. Of France, who had lately grown weary of his queen Bertha, the mother ofhis four children, and had shut her up in the castle of Montreuil. 

Philippe found some pretext for declaring that his first marriage andBertrade's were both null and void; but not one French bishop could befound to solemnize the disgraceful union he desired. He was obliged tolook beyond his own dominion, and it is said that it was the brotherof the Conqueror, Odo, Bishop of Bayeux, who consented to pronounce ablessing over their marriage. 

They were not, however, allowed to sin unmolested. Bertrade's husbandmade war on them on one side, Bertha's brother on the other. Philippe'sson Louis fled to the protection of the English; and the Pope laid themunder excommunication. For nine years, however, they persisted in theircrime; but at last they made a show of penitence; the King pretended torenounce Bertrade, and they were absolved. 

Bertrade had forsaken her child; but she was very anxious that heshould succeed his father, instead of his elder brother Geoffrey, ahigh-spirited youth, whom the peasantry of Anjou regarded as theirfriend and protector. She contrived to sow dissension between him andhis father, and at last caused him to be assassinated. 

Then she chose to come to Angers to see her son heir of Anjou, andactually brought the King with her; made Philippe and her husband behavein the most friendly manner, eat at the same table, sleep on the samecouch; and Foulques was even base enough to sit on a footstool atthe feet of this woman, who could scarcely have been better than thewitch-lady herself. 

After the death of Philippe she returned to Anjou, and went into theAbbey of Fontevraud, where she practised such rigorous penances that herhealth sank under them. 

Her son, Foulques V. , succeeded to the county in 1109, and was a muchbetter man than could have been expected from the son of such parents. His wife was Sybil, daughter of Helie de la Flèche, an excellent, gentle, and pious lady, whom he loved devotedly. 

His eldest daughter, the Alix, or noble maid of Anjou, whose name seemsto have been Matilda, was betrothed to William the Etheling, sonof Henry I. , in order to detach her father from the cause of theunfortunate William Clito of Normandy. 

Their marriage took place in the autumn of 1120, when the bridegroom wasseventeen and the bride twelve. It was celebrated with great splendor, and all the Norman barons did homage to young William as their futureDuke. Afterward the English court repaired to Barfleur, there to embarkfor their own island; but there was considerable delay in collectingshipping enough for so numerous a party, and it was not possible to setsail till the 25th of November. Just as the King was about to embark, amariner, named Thomas Fitzstephen, addressed him, with the offering of agolden mark, saying that his father had had the honor of carrying KingWilliam to the conquest of England, and entreating that his beautifulnew vessel, the Blanche Nef, or White Ship, with fifty good oarsmen, might transport the present King. 

Henry, always courteous, answered that his own arrangements were made, but that no doubt his son, the Etheling, and his companions, wouldgladly make the passage with him. The King then sailed, taking with himthe little bride, but leaving behind no less than eighteen ladies of thehighest rank--among them his niece, Lucy de Blois, Countess of Chester, and his illegitimate daughter, Marie, Countess de Perche--also anotherillegitimate son, named Richard, and all the gayest young nobles, whowere in attendance on the prince. Including the crew, the Blanche Nefwas expected to carry full three hundred persons across the Channel. Allwere in high spirits, in that reckless state of mirth which the graveScots deem as the absolute presage of a fearful catastrophe, as well asoften its cause; and the young Etheling, with open-hearted, imprudentgood-nature, presented the crew with three casks of wine to drink to hishealth and the success of the voyage. Such feasting took place, that allthe rest of the fleet had sailed; but Fitzstephen boasted that he wouldovertake and outstrip every ship before they reached England. Someprudent persons--among them young Stephen de Blois--left the ship; butno one else had any fears; and though the night came on, there was abright moon, and the water was calm. Every sail was set; the rowersplied their utmost strength, and thus it was with great violence thatthe ship ran foul of the rocks called the Ras de Catte. A lamentable cryreached the ships of the King's fleet; but no one guessed the cause. Aboat was lowered; Fitzstephen handed in the prince and a few rowers, andbade them make for the shore; but just as they had pushed off, Williamheard the agonized calls of his sister, the Countess de Perche, andcommanded the rowers to put back and save her. The masterless, terrifiedmultitude no sooner saw the boat approach, than they all flungthemselves headlong into it; down it went under them, and the wholefreight perished. The ship itself soon likewise foundered, and thereonly remained, clinging to the mast, a young baron, named Godfrey del'Aigle, and a butcher of Rouen. Fitzstephen, however, swam up, andcalled out to ask if the King's son had got off safe. When he heardtheir answer, he cried aloud, "Woe is me!" and sank like a stone. It wasa cold night, and, after some hours, young Godfrey became benumbed, losthis hold, and likewise sank; but the butcher, in his sheepskin coat, held on till daylight, when he was picked up by some fishermen, and toldhis piteous tale. 

Next day the news came to England, and every one knew it but the King. For some days no one could summon up resolution to inform him of thissurpassing calamity; but at last a little boy was sent to fall at hisfeet, and, weeping bitterly, to tell him all. The stern heart was wrung:Henry fell senseless on the ground; and he, whose gayety had once almosthidden his hard, selfish nature, never smiled again. 

The Count of Anjou sent for his daughter and her dowry. The daughtercame, and afterward became a nun at Fontevraud; but no dowry was sentwith her: and Foulques returned to the cause he had deserted, gave hersister Sybil to William Clito, and held with him till his early death. 

On the death of his countess, Foulques vowed to go on a crusade. Hiseldest son Geoffrey was but seven years old, and before setting out, hesolemnly placed the boy on the altar of St. Julian at Angers, saying, "Great Saint, I offer thee my son and my lands; be the protector ofboth!"

Foulques maintained a hundred men-at-arms in Palestine for a year, athis own expense, and signalized himself greatly. Baldwin I. , King ofJerusalem, the brother of Godfrey, had survived his brother eighteenyears, when, in 1118, the crown passed to Baldwin du Bourg, Count ofEssex, who, according to the usual fate of the Defenders of the HolySepulchre, felt his health fast giving way under the influence of toil, anxiety, and climate. He had been twice a prisoner, and had spent sevenyears in captivity among the Infidels; but his kingdom had been bravelydefended by the knights of the Temple and Hospital, aided by Crusadersfrom the West. Of these armed pilgrims the Count of Anjou was so muchthe most distinguished, that, after his return, a knight was sent tohim by King Baldwin, to propose to give him the hand of Melisende, theeldest princess of Jerusalem, and with it that crown of care and toil. 

The crusading spirit was, however, strong in the house of Anjou, andso continued for full three hundred years: and though Foulques wasconsiderably past forty, he accepted the offer, gave up his country tohis son Geoffrey, and set forth in 1127, married Melisende, and, fouryears after, became King of Jerusalem. It was an unloving marriage; buthe was much respected and beloved, and his biographer observes that, though he had red hair, he had not the faults common in men of thatcomplexion. He was continually in the field at the head of his knights, and won several victories, one of which gained the town of CaesareaPhilippi. He was killed by a fall from his horse, near Acre, in 1142;and left two sons by Melisende--Baldwin and Amaury, who afterward bothreigned at Jerusalem. 

 CAMEO XVI. 

 VISITORS OF HENRY I. (1120-1134. )

Henry Beauclerc was really a great King. His abilities were high evenfor one of the acute Normans, and he studied at every leisure moment. Hetranslated Aesop's fables, not from Latin into French--which would nothave been wonderful--but from Greek to English. He seems to have hada real attachment to the English, feeling that, in their sturdyindependence, he had the best preservative from the "outre cuidance" ofthe Normans. Indeed, the English mind viewed Brenville as making up forHastings. He wrote a book of maxims, even on etiquette; and though hisheart was almost as hard as those of his brothers, his demeanor was farmore gracious: moreover, he felt remorse, as his brothers never did, norhis father till his death. After he lost his son he had many a night ofanguish; when all the men of his kingdom seemed to come and reproachhim with their sufferings. But his reign, on the whole, was abreathing-time, when he carried out his father's policy, restrained thebarons, and raised the condition of the English. He was also greatlyrespected in other countries, and had many royal visitors, among thechief of whom may be reckoned his brother-in-law, David of Scotland, andLouis _l'éveillé_, the prince of France. In the Conqueror's lifetimeHenry and Louis had met at the court of France, where they hadquarrelled at chess, and Henry, in a passion, had struck Louis a violentblow. His elder brother, Robert, then in exile in Paris, came in at themoment, and was so alarmed for the consequences, that he dragged Henrydown stairs, called for their horses, and galloped away, never restingtill he had seen the youth safely on the bounds of Normandy, whereRobert himself might not enter. King Philippe's anger is said to havebeen one of the causes of the war in which William I. Met with hisdeath. 

Now, however, Louis was a fugitive from the persecution of the wickedBertrade, and found shelter and protection in England till his fatherbecame reconciled to him. 

Another royal visitor was Sigurd the Crusader, king of part of Norway. Eystein, Sigurd, and Olaf had been left orphans by the death of theirfather, King Magnus, when Eystein, the eldest, was only fifteen. According to the law of Norway, they all possessed an equal right to thekingdom; but this led to no disputes, and they lived together on themost friendly terms. Eystein was peaceably disposed and thoughtful, though lively; Sigurd, though enterprising and spirited, had a strain ofmelancholy which affected him when he was not actively employed: and onemorning, Eystein, observing that his looks were gloomy, drew from himthat he had had a dream. "I thought, " he said, "that we brothers wereall sitting on a bench in front of Christ Church in Drontheim, and ourkinsman, Olaf the Saint, came out in royal robes, glancing and splendid, and his face bright and joyous. He took our brother Olaf by the hand, saying, 'Come with me, friend, ' and led him into the Church. Soon after, King Olaf the Saint came forth again, but not so bright as before. Hecame to thee, brother, and led thee with him into the church. Then Ilooked for him to come to me and meet me; but it was not so: and I wasseized with great sorrow, and was altogether without strength; so that Iawoke. "

Eystein interpreted the dream to mean that Olaf would die young andinnocent; that the Saint was less radiant in coming for himself, becauseof his sins; and that Sigurd would be the longest-lived of the three. Itfell out much as the dream had presaged, for Olaf died in early youth. 

Sigurd had the restless spirit of the Sea-kings, and became a Crusader. He spent the first winter in England, the second in aiding theChristians of Spain against the Moors: he visited the Normans in Sicily, and, as the King of the whole Northern race, conferred on Count Roger deHauteville the title of King of Sicily, and then proceeded to Jerusalem. 

Baldwin I. Received him splendidly, and availed himself of his aid tocapture the town of Zidon. He left the Holy Land, taking as his rewarda piece of the wood of the True Cross, and returned throughConstantinople. There Alexius Comnenus gave him a magnificent reception, which he tried to requite by equal Ostentation, repeating Robert ofNormandy's invention of the golden horse-shoes. He was entertained withgrand games in the Hippodrome, where the ancient Greek statues were muchadmired by his followers and their Vaeringer brethren, who took them fortheir own ancient Asagods. On his departure, he gave Alexius all hisships, the figure-heads of which were made ornaments for one of thechurches at Constantinople; and some of the presents which he broughtaway are still extant in Norway. In one little remote church there haslately been found a curious Byzantine picture, representing the rescueof the True Cross from the Persians by the Emperor Heraclius. 

In the meantime, Eystein was leading a wise, beneficent, peaceable, andpious life in Norway. But their different dispositions are best shownin a discussion that the old Norwegian chronicle has recorded as takingplace soon after Sigurd's return. The two brothers were, in the ancientfashion, sojourning in the house of one of their bonders, and keepingopen table, when, one evening the ale was not good, Sigurd fell into oneof his moods of gloomy depression, and the guests sat round silent. 

The good-natured Eystein said, "Let us fall on some jest to amusepeople; for surely, brother Sigurd, all people are well pleased when weconverse cheerfully. "

"Do you talk as much as you please, but let me be silent, " returnedSigurd. 

"Nay, " said Eystein. "let us follow the old custom over the ale-tableof making comparisons. I will soon make it appear that, different as weare, we are both equal, and one has no advantage over the other. "

He succeeded in drawing his brother into the game; and Sigurd, who wasthe taller and stronger, answered, "Do you remember that I was alwaysable to break your back, if I had pleased, though you are a year older?"

"Yes, " said Eystein; "but you were not so good at games that needagility. "

"Do you remember that I could drag you under water, when we swamtogether, as often as I pleased?"

"Yes, " returned Eystein; "but I could swim as far as you, and dive aswell; and I could run on snow skates so well that no one could beat me, and you could no more do it than an ox. "

"I think, " said Sigurd, "you could hardly draw my bow, even if you tookyour foot to help. "

"I am not so strong at the bow, but there is less difference in ourshooting near. "

"Beside, " continued the tall Sigurd, "a chief ought to be taller thanother men, easily seen and distinguished. "

"Nay, " said Eystein, who was the handsomest man in Norway, "good looksmay be an equal distinction. Besides, I am more knowing in the law, andmy words flow more easily. "

"Well, you may know more law quirks. I have had something else to do, "said the rough warrior. "No one can deny you a smooth tongue; and somesay you do not keep to what you promise--which is not kingly. "

"Yes, I promise satisfaction to one party before I have heard the other, and then am forced to take something back. It would be easy to do likeyou--promise evil to all. I never hear any complaint of your not keepingthis promise to them. "

"Ay, and while I made a princely voyage, you sat at home like myfather's daughter. "

"There you take up the cudgel, " said Eystein, merrily; "but I know howto answer. If I did sit at home, like my father's daughter, you cannotdeny that, like a sister, I furnished you forth. "

Sigurd continued: "I was in many a battle in the Saracens' land, andalways came off conqueror; I won many precious goods, the like of whichwere never seen here before; and I was always the most highly esteemedwhere brave men met: while yours is but a home-bred renown. I went toPalestine, I came to Apulia; but I did not see you there, brother. Igave Roger the Great the title of King. I won seven battles; but youwere in none of them. I was at our Lord's grave; but I did not see youthere, brother. I went to Jordan, where our Lord was baptized. I swamacross the river; but I did not see you there. A willow grew on thebank, and I twisted the boughs into a knot, which is waiting there foryou; for I said that you should untie it, and fulfil the vow that isbound up in it. "

"I have little to set against this, " said Eystein; "but if you foughtabroad, I strove to be of use at home. In the north of Vaage I builtfish-houses, so as to enable the poor people there to earn a livelihood. I built a priest's house, and endowed a Church, where before all thepeople were heathen; and therefore I think they will recollect thatEystein was once King of Norway. The road from Drontheim goes over theDofrefield, and often travellers had to sleep in the open air; butI built inns, and supported them with money, and thus wayfarers mayremember that Eystein has been King of Norway. Agdaness was a barewaste, and no harbor, and many a ship was lost. Now, there is a goodharbor, and a Church. I raised beacons on the high ground; I built aroyal hall in Bergen, and the Church of the Apostles; I built Michael'sChurch, and a Convent beside. I settled the laws, so that all may obtainjustice. The Jemteland people are again joined to our realm, and more bykind words than by war. Now, though all these are but small doings, yetI am not sure if the people of our land have not been better served bythem than by your killing blue men in the land of the Saracens. Yourdeeds were great; yet I hope what I have done for the servants of Godmay serve me no less for my soul's salvation. So, if you did tie a knotfor me, I will not go to untie it; and if I had been tying a knot foryou, you would not have been King of Norway, when with a single ship youcame into my fleet. "

Eystein conferred many more benefits on his country, and on individualsmany acts of kindness--such as his undertaking by his conversation tocheer and console one of his friends who had been disappointed in love. This excellent King died at thirty-five, and it was said that there wasnever so much mourning in Norway. Sigurd's fate was sad; the shadowpredicted in his dream fell on him. His moodiness increased todistraction, and nothing could be more wretched in those early timesthan the condition of an insane king or of his country. He grewextremely violent, and often did fearful mischief; but he stillpreserved his generous spirit, and could always, even at the worst, betamed by any one who would boldly resist his fury. Happily, this onlylasted six years, for he died in 1330, at the age of forty. 

This has been a long digression; but as Sigurd was the last of ourNorthern visitors, we hope it may be pardoned for the sake of itsinterest. 

Henry I. Gave his only daughter Maude in marriage to Henry V. , Emperorof Germany, a rebellious son, who had taken advantage of the sentenceof excommunication on his father, to strip him of his domains, andabsolutely reduce him to beggary. Maude was married to Henry V. Ateleven years old, when she was so small that she could not stand underthe weight of her robes, and the Archbishop of Cologne was obligedto hold her in his arms during the celebration of the wedding. Theprincipal favorites of the King of England were at this time the sonsof his sister Adela, three in number: Theobald, Count de Blois andChampagne; Stephen, Count de Mortagne, whom the King married to Matilda, heiress, of Boulogne, the niece of good Queen Maude, and Henry, whom hemade Bishop of Winchester. 

Henry was persuaded to marry again, and his queen was the beautiful andgracious Alice of Louvaine, a fair young girl of eighteen. His daughterMaude returned from Germany in 1125; but there were strange stories thather husband, the Emperor, was not dead, but had fled in secret from hiscourt, to dwell as a hermit in penance for his crimes. His funeral had, however, been performed with full solemnity. King Henry regarded her asin truth a widow, and was very anxious to bestow her a second time inmarriage. He caused his vassals to take an oath of fealty to her ashis heiress, and foremost in making this promise were David, King ofScotland--as Earl of Huntingdon, in right of his wife, Waltheof'sdaughter--and Stephen de Blois, Count de Mortagne and Boulogne; whileHenry engaged at the same time that she should not be married withoutthe consent of the Barons. 

Very soon, however, he broke his word, with the desire of conciliatingthose troublesome neighbors of Normandy, the counts of Anjou. FoulquesV. Showed himself so much inclined to befriend the son of Robert, thatHenry resolved to attach him to his own party, and proposed to him togive Maude to his son Geoffrey, whom he desired should be sent atonce to Rouen, that he might see him, and confer on him the order ofknighthood. 

Young Geoffrey was only fifteen, but, unlike his ancestors, was verytall, and had also inherited the beauty and grace of his grandmotherBertrade. King Henry was delighted with him, and after examining himclosely on all the rules of chivalry, as well as on other points, towhich Geoffrey replied with much acuteness, showing himself a goodscholar even in Latin, resolved to make him his son-in-law. Hisknighthood was conferred with the greatest splendor and all theformalities of the time. The first day he entered the bath, the emblemof purity, and then was arrayed in fine linen, a robe woven with gold, and a purple mantle. A Spanish horse was presented to him, and he wasarmed in polished steel, and with a helmet covered with precious stones;his gilded spurs were buckled on, and his sword and lance given to him. He sprung on horseback without putting his foot in the stirrup, and sixdays were spent in jousting with twenty-nine young nobles, who wereknighted at the same time. At the close of the tourney, Henry conferredon him the accolade, or sword-blow, which was the chief part of theceremony. 

Henry had great difficulty in making his daughter consent to themarriage. Whether she believed her husband to be alive, or whether itwas from pride, or dislike to take so mere a boy as her bridegroom, herresistance was long; and it was not till 1127 that she was brought byher father to Mans, where the wedding took place, just before Geoffrey'sfather departed for Palestine. 

Maude was proud and disdainful, and treated her young husband in themost contemptuous way; and Geoffrey avoided her in return, spending mostof his time in hunting in the woods, where he used to wear the spray ofbroom that became the cognizance of his house, and caused their surnameof Plantagenet. Perhaps it was in contrast to his wife's haughtinessthat he chose to adopt this plant, considered as the emblem of humility, and reminding her that she had married the descendant of the woodmanTorquatus. 

Geoffrey seems to have been of a gay, lively temper, associating freelywith all who came in his way, and often doing kind actions. Once, as onChristmas-day he was entering the Church of St. Julian at Mans, he met apoor priest, meanly clad. 

"What tidings?" said the Count. 

"Glad tidings, " returned the priest. 

"What are they?"

"'To us a Child is born, to us a Son is given, '" the clerk made answer;and Geoffrey was so struck with his appropriate manner, that he gave hima valuable canonry. 

Geoffrey was hunting in a forest, when he lost his way, and wasbenighted; and, meeting a charcoal-burner, asked the road to Loches. Theman offered to become his guide, and accordingly the Count took him upon his horse, talking gayly, and asking what people said of the Count. The peasant answered that the Count himself was said to be friendly andfree-spoken, but his provost committed terrible exactions, of which hegave a full account. Geoffrey listened, and in the morning rode intothe town of Loches with the charcoal-burner still _en croupe_ (if hishaughty empress was there, he must have enjoyed provoking her), andthere he summoned all his provosts, himself examined their accounts, putan end to their exactions, and ended by making the charcoal-burner afree man instead of a serf. 

There is a report that Maude's first husband came to Angers in hispenance-garb, and on his death-bed told his confessor who he was; thatthe confessor fetched the empress; and that she attended him in secrettill his death; but the truth of this tale is very uncertain. Maude hadbeen six years married to Geoffrey when her first child was born, Henry, called by the Normans Fitz-Empress. 

This event in some degree cheered the latter years of his grandfather, King Henry, whose sin had found him out, in bitter remorse and fearfuldreams. Nobles, peasants, and clergy seemed in turn to be standing roundhis bed, calling him to account for his misdeeds toward them. Many othervictims of his ambition might have been conjured up by his remorse--suchas the citizen of Rouen, spared by Robert, whom Henry threw from the topof a high tower, whither he had treacherously invited him; the Normanbarons, with whom he had broken his faith; his gallant, generousbrother, so cruelly betrayed and imprisoned; his persecuted nephew, William Clito; the unhappy troubadour, Lucas de Barré, whom he hadblinded, for writing a satire on him, and who dashed out his brainsin despair on the prison wall; and--almost the worst of all--the poorchildren of his illegitimate daughter Juliana, left to the ferociousrevenge of Raoul de Harenc, by whom their eyes were put out and theirnoses cut off. With such recollections as these to haunt his lateryears, no wonder Henry's nights were times of agony and wakefulness. 

He tried to lose the thought of these horrors in activity, and wasconstantly passing between England and Normandy. It was in the lattercountry that he made his fatal supper of lampreys, after he had beenfatigued with hunting all day. A violent fever came on at night, and hedied on the 1st of December, 1135. 

The court of Scotland presented a far different scene. David, theyoungest of the children of St. Margaret, inherited the crown in 1124, on the death of his brother Alexander, and was treading in the samecourse as his mother, his sister Maude, and his brethren. He belonged, indeed, to a family of saints, and brought piety, firmness, cultivation, and a merciful temper to improve his rugged country. He was a bravewarrior: but he loved the arts of peace, and one of his favoriteamusements was gardening, budding and grafting trees. 

He administered strict justice, but shed tears as he ordered anexecution; and was so tender-hearted and ready to hear the poor, that hewould take his foot out of the stirrup when just ready for the chase, tolisten to the humblest complaint. Though lively and social in temper, hespent some hours every evening alone, in prayer and meditation. 

His wife was Matilda, daughter of that Earl Waltheof who was executed byWilliam I. She had previously been married to a Norman knight, Simon deSt. Liz, who died on pilgrimage, leaving her with two sons, Simon andWaltheof. Two sons were likewise born to David; but the eldest waskilled in his infancy by an accident: and shortly after David took homeas a companion to the little Henry, Aelred, the son of a Saxon priest atHexham. 

These four boys were brought up "in the nurture of good learning, " andin godliness; but their different tempers soon showed themselves. Simon, the little Earl of Northampton, while a child, was always playing atbuilding castles, and bestriding the "truncheon of a spear, " as awar-horse. Waltheof was a builder, too, but his were churches, and hisdelight was in making the sign of the Cross and singing chants. It wasstill the same as they grew older; Waltheof ever drew more apart, andspent more time in reading and prayer. His stepfather, the King, wouldtake him to the chase, and tell him to bear his bow; but he oftenfound his bow in the hands of another, and, after a search, discoveredWaltheof reading or praying in a secret glade, or under a tree. "Yourboy, " he said to the Queen, "will either die young, or leave us for thecloister. "

Aelred was Waltheof's chief friend; but, though very pious, he was moreof a scholar, and read both romances of King Arthur and such worksof Cicero as had found their way to Scotland. He was lively inconversation; David was fond of him, and used to tell him stories of hisown younger days; and Aelred became the loving chronicler of this happycourt. 

Prince Henry had the same holy temper, coupled with a bold spirit, thatwas needed by the heir of Scotland, and showed himself full of the noblequalities of his father and uncles. He was the true knight of the party, as bold as a lion, yet as strict and devout as a monk, even in the camp. Simon was no more than a rough, bold, tyrannical earl, and soon took uphis abode in England. 

Ere long Aelred became a monk, and Waltheof was not slow in followinghis example. Both entered the Cistercian order, and led holy lives, avoiding all preferment--a difficult matter for Waltheof, stepson to oneking and cousin to another. His brother Simon took such offence at hislowliness, that he actually threatened to burn down the convent ofWaldon, where Waltheof was living, because he thought it shame to see adescendant of Siward a common monk in a poor monastery. 

However, in time, promotion was thrust on them. Aelred became Abbot ofRivaux, and Waltheof Abbot of Melrose. 

Of the King and his son, more will be said in the next chapter. 

 CAMEO XVII. 

 THE BATTLE OF THE STANDARD. (1135-1138. )

 _King of England. 1135. Stephen. 1137. Louis VII. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1124. David I. 

 _Kings of France_. 1107. Louis VI. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1125. Lothar II. 1138. Konrad II. 

Earl Egbert of Gloucester was the son of Henry Beauclerc and of abeautiful Welsh princess named Nesta, who had fallen into his hands inthe course of the war which he maintained for his brother William Rufus, on the borders of Wales. Henry was much attached to the boy, and gavehim a princely education, by which he profited so as to become not onlylearned, but of a far purer and more chivalrous character than was oftento be found among the great men of his time. 

Henry I. Provided for him, by giving to him the hand of the Lady AmabelFitzaymon, heiress of Glamorgan, and a ward at the disposal of thecrown, in whose right he became Earl of Gloucester. 

Robert and his cousin, Stephen de Blois, both attended the death-bed ofHenry I. , and heard his dying words: "I leave to my children whatever Ihave gained. Let them do justice to those I have injured. "

No sooner had the King expired, than Stephen set off for England, wherehe was already very popular, partly on account of his courteous mannersand goodly person, partly for the sake of his wife, Matilda of Boulogne, who was treading in the steps of her aunt, the good Queen Maude. Helanded at Dover in the midst of a frightful thunder-storm, and though hefound that city and Canterbury closed against him, he met with a joyfulreception in London and Winchester. He bribed Hugh Bigod, the lateKing's seneschal, to swear that Henry had on his deathbed disinheritedMaude, and left the kingdom to him; and the Archbishop, William deCorboil, was credulous enough to believe the tale, and crown theusurper; but discovery of the falsehood hastened the old man's death. 

While this was passing, Robert of Gloucester was conducting the funeralof his father; causing his body to be _salted_, instead of embalmed, andbringing it to England to be buried at Reading, an abbey that Henry hadbuilt and endowed for his burial-place. It is now completely ruined, andfew vestiges remain to show what the buildings were, far less any traceof the tomb of the scholarly and cruel son of the Conqueror. 

The Empress Maude was at the same time attending her husband, GeoffreyPlantagenet, in a dangerous illness; and thus Stephen was enabledto obtain possession of both England and Normandy, and receivedthe submission of all the nobles. The Earl of Gloucester, thinkingresistance vain, took the oath of fealty; reserving, however, the rightof recalling it if any injury was offered to him or to his property. 

The next year Geoffrey de Bel raised an army, and entered Normandy; butwas met there by Stephen, wounded, and forced to retreat, leaving onlya few castles still holding out for the Empress. Stephen was besiegingthat of Bertran, with an army composed partly of Normans and partly ofnatives of his wife's county of Boulogne, when, while he was takinghis mid-day sleep, a quarrel arose between the two brothers. Waking inhaste, and alarmed for his Boulognais, he took part against the Normans, calling out, "Down with the traitors!" The Normans were greatlyoffended, and, having retired to their tents, they held a counciltogether, and ended by making him the following plain-spoken address:

"Sir, a folly is better ended than continued. By ill advice, we took youfor our lord for a little while. If you blame us for it, you will not bewrong. You have beaten our men, and called us traitors. Certes, we weretraitors when we left our rightful lady for a stranger. We have heldwith you against our lady the Empress, and we repent, for we have sinnedagainst God and man: but we will no longer continue in the sin; andtherefore we bid you mount, and leave this host, for we will not sufferyou to remain in this country, unless it be the will of our lady theEmpress. "

Stephen begged them to let him remain till the next day but they sworethat, if he did, it should be the worse for him, and immediatelyescorted him beyond the bounds of Normandy. They then brought backMaude, with her husband and children; and the dukedom continued in thehands of Geoffrey as long as he lived. 

At the same time David, King of Scotland, recollecting the oath toMaude, which he and Stephen had together sworn, took up arms in hercause, and invaded England, forcing the inhabitants to take the oathof allegiance. His troops were a fearfully wild, untamed race, undisciplined and cruel, and it was a dreadful thing to let loose sucha host of savage marauders without any possibility of restraining them. The Galwegians, Picts by race, were the worst; but the Highlanders andBorderers were also dreadfully cruel: and the English armed to protectthemselves against the inroad of their ancient foes. 

The clergy of the North even deemed it a sacred war, and, by theauthority of Thurstan, Archbishop of York, gathered their flocks, andcame, each priest at the head of his parishioners, to the place ofassembly at York, where three days were spent in prayer and fasting; andthen the old Archbishop administered to them an oath never to deserteach other, and dismissed them with his blessing. Raoul, Bishop ofDurham, was deputed by him to take the lead, and to have the charge ofthe consecrated standards of St. Cuthbert of Durham, St. Peter of York, St. John of Beverley, and St. Wilfred of Ripon. These were all suspendedfrom one pole, like the mast of a vessel, surmounted by a cross, in thecentre of which was fixed a silver casket, containing the consecratedwafer of the Holy Sacrament. The pole was fixed into a four-wheeled car, on which the Bishop stood. Such cars were much used in Italy, whereeach city had its own consecrated Gonfalone, on its caroccio, hung withscarlet cloth and drawn by oxen. The English collected under this sacredstandard were the stout peasants of the North, the bowmen of Yorkshireand Nottinghamshire; each with a bow of his own height, and a sheaf ofarrows two cubits long; and there were also many barons of Norman birth, of whom Walter L'Espee was the leader. Some of these barons held theirlands under David of Scotland, as Earl of Cumberland, and two of them, Bernard Baliol and Robert Bruce, the last an old friend of the King, went to the Scottish camp, to remonstrate with him. Bruce begged him toretreat, described the horrors committed by his wild Scots, told him ofthe strength of the English force, and ended by declaring with tearsthat it would now become his duty to renounce his allegiance, and arrayhimself against his beloved prince. Good King David shed tears, butWilliam Macdonochie, the fierce lord of Galloway, burst out with theexclamation, "Bruce, thou art a false traitor!" and the insulted baronrenounced all he held in Scotland, gave up his allegiance, and rode backto the English army, at Northampton, bringing tidings that the Scotswere coming. 

The host arrayed itself around their car, where the sacred standardwaved above their head, and the Bishop of Durham addressed them frombeneath it, reminding them of former victories. Walter L'Espee wasthe first to respond. Grasping the hand of the Earl of Albemarle, heexclaimed, "I pledge thee my troth that to-day I will overcome theScots, or die!" "So swear we all, " cried the other barons; and thewhole host knelt down, the Bishop pronounced over them the words ofabsolution, they replied with one mighty sound of united voices, "Amen!"and arose. The knights and squires sat with gathered reins and knees inrest, the yeomen stood each with his good yew bow ready strung, awaitingthe onslaught. 

Less union was there in the hostile army, where it might be said thatthere was no authority, for David was unable to restrain his wildsubjects from the North and West. The men of Galloway insisted onbeginning the attack; but as they wore no defensive armor, and had noweapons but long, thin pikes, besides being more fierce than steady, the king hesitated. "Why trust to a plate of steel or rings of iron?"exclaimed Malise of Strathern. "I, who wear no armor, will go as far asany one with breastplate of mail. " "You brag of what you dare not do!"said the Norman Alan de Percy. But the King found himself obliged toyield the precedence to the Galwegians, trusting far more to the lowlandknights and men-at-arms, whom he arrayed under his gallant son, PrinceHenry, while he himself commanded the reserve of Northern Scots. 

The fierce Kelts of Galloway, guided by a tall spear, wreathed withheather blossom, and shouting, "Albin! Albin!" with harsh, dissonantcries like the roar of a tempest, fell headlong on the English ranks, and at first their fury carried them on so that they burst through themas if they had been a spider's web. But the Norman chivalry round thestandard stood firm, and hewed down the undefended Galwegians, nor couldthe long claymores of the Highland clans, who next attacked them, breakthrough their steel armor. The charge of Prince Henry's horsemen hadmore effect, and at one time the youth had almost won his way to thestandard, when some traitor in the rear raised a bloody head on thepoint of a lance, shouting that the King was slain. In consternation theScots gave back; the English saw their advantage, and pressed upon them:and though David rode forward and displayed the dragon standard whichmarked his presence (inherited from the Saxon kings), he could not rallythem, and but just succeeded in protecting their flight to Carlisle, which then belonged to him as Earl of Cumberland. 

This first of the long series of Scottish defeats was called the Battleof the Standard, from the banner of St. Cuthbert, which was alwaysthought to bring success. It came forth at the battle of Nevil's Cross, and was again victorious, and it was preserved with great reverence tillthe Reformation, when, in 1549, Catherine Whittingham, the wife of theDean of Durham, burnt it, out of zeal against Popery. It is some comfortthat she was a Frenchwoman. 

Stephen had left his Northern subjects to take care of themselves, because he was full of perplexities in the South. He had tried to pleaseall parties, and by no means succeeded. He was a humane, kind-heartedman, and really wished to befriend the unfortunate Saxons; but, on theother hand, he was afraid to affront their Norman oppressors, whom hehad allowed to build castles, and strengthen themselves in the very waywhich it had been Henry Beauclerc's policy to prevent. Almost everyspot where green mounds and blocks of massive masonry remain within anancient moat, is said by tradition to have been "a castle in Stephen'stime, " and we wonder, considering that he reigned but nine years, howsuch immense works could have been effected. Dens of thieves they seemto have been, and misery and destruction reigned round them; while theleast attempt on the King's part to restrain the ferocity of theirowners was requited by a threat of bringing in our lady the Empress. 

Her party became continually stronger, and Stephen, living in constantmistrust, added to it by offending several Bishops, even his ownbrother, Henry de Blois, by trying, to deprive them of their fortifiedcastles. Next he made an attack on the Earl of Gloucester, who, beingthus freed from his engagement to keep the peace, after repulsingStephen, went to Normandy to fetch the Empress, and inform her that thiswas the time for establishing her right. 

Maude, gladly accepted his invitation, but her husband Geoffrey seems tohave been glad to be rid of her ungracious company, and chose to remainin Anjou. She landed in safety, for Stephen was at this time extremelyill, and her brother placed her in Arundel Castle, which belonged to herfather's widow, Queen Alice, lately married to William de Albini, theancestor of the noble line of Howard. Here Maude remained, while herbrother went to his own estates to raise troops; but in the meantimeStephen recovered, and advanced on Arundel Castle. Queen Alice sent totell him that her stepdaughter had come to seek her protection, and beghim not to make her do anything disloyal; and Stephen, who had many ofthe qualities of a courteous knight, forbore to make any personal attackon the ladies, but allowed the Empress to depart unmolested to meet EarlRobert. 

He brought her to his castle at Bristol, where she remained two years, while the warfare was carried on in a desultory manner, chiefly by thesiege of castles. At last Stephen laid siege to Lincoln, where Robert'sdaughter was, with her husband Ralf, Earl of Chester. Her father came toher relief with an army of 10, 000 men. Stephen was advised to retreat;but he thought his honor concerned, and gave battle. His forces weresoon overwhelmed; but he fought on desperately at the foot of hisstandard, so fiercely that no one dared to approach him, though hissword and battle-axe were both broken. At last a stone brought him tothe ground, and a knight, named William Kames, grappled with him andheld him fast; but even then he refused to yield the fragment of hissword to any but the Earl of Gloucester, who came up at the moment andprevented any further violence. 

Stephen was given into the keeping of Countess Amabel, and Maude wasconducted in state to Winchester, where Stephen's own brother, theBishop, proclaimed her Queen, standing on the steps of the altar. Heruncle, King David, came to visit her, and she held her court with greatsplendor. It was here that she disgusted every one by her disdainfulmanners, and treated her cousin, Stephen's queen, with such harshness asto drive her to take up arms again. London had always been favorable toStephen, and two months of negotiation were necessary before Davidand Robert could prevail on the citizens to receive her. At midsummer, however, they consented to admit her, and she came to Westminster; butas soon as a deputation of citizens were in her presence, she showedher pride and hostile spirit. They asked for charters; she replied byordering them to bring money, and telling them they were very bold totalk of their privileges, when they had just been aiding her enemies. Robert made speeches to try to soften matters, and David reasoned withher in vain, till she was convinced of her folly in a way for which hewas little prepared. It is said that she actually flew at him andstruck him; and if she could thus treat a royal uncle, how must not meninferior in rank have sped?

It was noon, and the deputies went home, as Maude thought, to dinner;but presently all the bells began to ring, and burghers, armed with bowsand bills, began to swarm in the streets. The followers of the Empresswere too few to resist; so, after a brief council, David galloped offto the North, and Robert rode with his sister to Oxford, while theLondoners opened their gates to Matilda, Stephen's wife, and her sonEustace. 

Robert went to raise more forces, and Maude, hearing that Bishop Henryde Blois was conferring with his sister-in-law, sharply summoned him toher presence. He quietly made answer, "_Parabo me_"--I prepare myself;and Maude, in a passion, set out, intending to surprise him atWolvesley, his palace at Winchester. She found it well fortified, andlaid siege to it from the castle at Winchester, where she was joined byher uncle and brother; and the town was in a miserable state, burnt byboth parties in turn. Twenty churches and two convents were destroyed, and the Bishop took Knut's crown out of the Cathedral--to save it fromthe enemy, as was said, but it was never seen again. At last Eustace deBlois and his mother brought such a force that the Empress was besiegedin her turn, and completely starved out. Her garrison resolved to breakthrough the enemy at all risks, and on Sunday they set forth, Mauderiding first with her uncle David, and Robert following with a band ofknights, under a vow to die rather than let her be taken. 

At Stourbridge the pursuers came up with them, many of the knights fell, and Robert was captured. So closely were the royal fugitives pursued, that David at one time was in the enemy's hands, and only escaped by thestratagem of his godson, David Olifant. Maude and one faithful knight, by the speed of their horses, reached Devizes, whence she was carried ina coffin to Gloucester. 

Maude could not make up her mind to release her foe, Stephen, even forthe sake of recovering her brother; but the Countess of Gloucester, considering the King as her own property, acted for herself, andexchanged him for her husband. Queen Matilda tried to make Robertpromise to bring about peace, to secure England to Stephen, and Normandyto Maude; but he would make no engagements which he knew she would notobserve, and matters continued in the same state. 

 CAMEO XVIII. 

 THE SNOWS OF OXFORD. (1138-1154. )

 _King of England_. 1135. Stephen. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1124. David I. 1153. Malcolm V. 

 _King of France_. 1137. Louis VII. 

 _Emperor Of Germany_. 1139. Konrad II. 

 _Popes_. 1130. Innocent II. 1143. Celestine II. 1144. Lucius II. 1145. Anastasius II. 1154. Adrian IV. 

On the 1st of November, 1138, Stephen was set at liberty, and Robert ofGloucester, being exchanged for him, rejoined his sister the Empress atGloucester; and during this time of quiet her fierce nature seems tohave somewhat softened. 

Stephen, meanwhile, had one of his terrible attacks of illness, in whichhe lay for hours, if not days, in a death-like lethargy, and, of course, his followers did nothing but build castles whenever the frost would letthem work, prey on their neighbors, and make the state of the countryfar worse than it had been under any of the Normans of hated memory. Maude's domain was in better order, as Robert's rule was modelled onthat of his father's, in its best points. It is wonderful that Robert, whose mother was a princess by birth, and had been treated as a wifetill the Etheling marriage had become a matter of policy, should haveput forward no pretensions to the crown, but have uniformly given hisstaunch support to his proud and ungrateful sister. In a council held atDevizes in the course of the winter, it was decided that he should goto Normandy to entreat the Count of Anjou to bring succors to his wife. Geoffrey, however, had no desire to return to her haughty companionship, and represented that there were still many castles in Normandyunsubdued. Robert gave efficient aid in taking these; but Geoffrey stillcould not persuade himself to meet his wife, though, at Robert'spersuasion, he consented to give into his charge Henry, his eldest son, a boy of ten years old, with a large body of troops. 

Maude had, in the meanwhile, been placed in the strong fortress atOxford; but no sooner had Stephen recovered from his illness, than hecollected his army, and marched southward. In the end of September hebesieged her at Oxford, where at first she thought herself safe; but hecrossed the river, set fire to the city in several places, and blockadedher in the castle. 

Her nobles collected at Wallingford, and sent defiances to Stephen tofight a pitched battle with them; but he knew his own advantage toowell, and took no notice. Earl Robert, landing near Wareham, tried tocreate a diversion by besieging that seaport; but he could not draw theenemy off from Oxford. Famine prevailed in the castle, and, after muchsuffering, it became impossible for the garrison to hold out any longer. The depth of winter had come, the ground was covered with snow, and theIsis was frozen over. Maude, whose courage never failed, caused herselfand three of her knights to be dressed in white, and let down from thebattlements upon the snow, where they were met by one of Stephen's men, whom they had gained over, and by him were led, unseen and unheard, through the camp of the enemy, hearing the call of the sentinels, andtrembling with anxiety. For six miles they crept over the snow, and atlast arrived at Abingdon, nearly frozen, for their garments had been fartoo scanty for the piercing weather; but they could not remain a momentfor rest or warmth, but took horse, and never paused till they reachedWallingford Castle. Thither, so soon as the news reached Earl Robert, hebrought her young son, and her troubles were forgotten in her joy. 

Thence she repaired with her son to Bristol Castle, where the boyremained under the care of a learned tutor named Matthew, who instructedhim under the superintendence of Earl Robert. 

This great Earl deserved the name of Beauclerc almost as well as hisfather; he was well read, and two histories were dedicated to him, William of Malmesbury's, and Geoffrey of Monmouth's wonderful chronicleof the old British kings, whose blood flowed in Robert's veins; thatchronicle--wrought out of queer Welsh stories--that served as afoundation for Edward's claims on Scotland, and whence came our Lear andCymbeline. 

All that knightly training could do for young Henry was done by EarlRobert, and the boy so far answered to his care as to have that mixtureof scholarliness and high spirit that was inherent in the Norman andAngevin princes. But the shrewd unscrupulousness and hard selfishness ofthe Norman were there, too--the qualities from which noble Gloucesterhimself was free. It may be, however, that the good Earl did not seethese less promising characteristics of his ward; for, after five yearsof the boy's residence at Bristol, and the old desultory warfare betweenthe partisans of King and Empress, Count Geoffrey sent for his son, totake leave of him before going on a crusade; and while Henry was absent, Earl Robert died, in 1147. It speaks much for Henry Beauclerc's courtthat such men should have grown up in it as Robert of Gloucester andDavid of Scotland. 

Geoffrey, in the meantime, paid a visit to his younger brother, BaldwinIII. Of Jerusalem, a very gallant prince. On his return, Maude came backto him, and after their eight years' absence, they met with affectionthey never had shown to one another before. She did not attempt to takethe government of Normandy, but left it wholly in Geoffrey's hands. 

Stephen, meanwhile, was unmolested in England till 1149, when Henrysailed for Scotland, there to be knighted by his uncle, King David;while, curiously enough, his younger brother Geoffrey was at the verysame time knighted by Stephen's elder brother, Theobald, Count de Blois. 

It was a year of grief to that excellent King, who suffered a greataffliction in the death of the chivalrous Henry, his only son, and thefather of a numerous infant family. His barons feared he would sinkunder his sorrow, and came to comfort him; but they found him cheerful. "I ought not to lament my son's being taken away from me, " he said, "since he is gone to enjoy the fellowship of my parents and my brethren, of whose souls the world was no longer worthy. Should I mourn, it wouldbe to arraign the goodness and justice of God for removing him to themansions of bliss before me. I should rather be thankful, and rejoicethat the Almighty endowed my son with so much grace to behave himself ina manner to be so beloved and lamented. Soon do I hope to follow, and, being delivered from temporal miseries, to enjoy a blessed eternity withthe saints in light. "

It was shortly after this that Aelred, the good Abbot of Rivaux, came toDunfermline, on the affairs of his order; and in the presence of thisholy man, the adopted brother of his beloved Henry, one of the fourpromising boys who had gladdened the early days of his reign, the King'sgrief broke freely forth, though still it was not the sorrow of one whohad no hope. He told Aelred he saw in this calamity a punishment for thedevastation he had caused in his invasion of England, and would fainhave laid down his royalty, and spent the rest of his days in penitencein a convent; but he was persuaded to relinquish the design, and guardthe crown for his grandsons. He shed tears as he tenderly embracedAelred, and both felt it was their last meeting. 

David did not long survive his son. He appointed his eldest grandchild, Malcolm, to succeed him, and set his affairs in order, redoubling allhis pious and charitable acts. One of the last things he was heard tosay, was, "Lord, I restore Thee the kingdom wherewith Thou didst entrustme. Put me in possession of that whereof the inhabitants are all kings. "He was soon after found dead, in the attitude of devotion. His bodywas buried at Dunfermline, and his name added to the list of Scottishsaints. 

His grandsons, Malcolm, William, and David, were all good and valiantmen. 

Waltheof, his stepson, lived peaceably at Melrose, strict in rule, gentle in manners, and peculiarly humble in demeanor, and poor in dress. He once had occasion to meet King Stephen, and rode in among the baronsin their armor, only clad in his coarse serge frock, and mounted, onan old gray horse. His brother Simon, who stood by the King, wasdispleased, and said, "See, my lord, how my brother and thy kinsman doeshonor to his lineage. " He met with a reply he little expected. "If thouand I had only the grace to see it, " said Stephen, "he is an honorindeed to us. He adorns our race, as the gem does the gold in which itis set!" And when he had parted with the meek abbot, Stephen exclaimed, with tears, "This man has put all worldly things under his feet; but weare presuming after this fleeting world, and losing both body and soulin the chase. "

This must indeed have, been brought home soon after to Stephen, by thefate of his wretched son Eustace. This fiery youth had desired to becrowned in his father's lifetime; but Archbishop Theobald, and all hissuffragans, perceiving that this would prevent the only hope of peace onStephen's death, steadily refused, though the King shut them all up inhis hall, and threatened them violently. The next year, when the treatywas made by which Henry of Anjou was to reign after Stephen, Eustacewas so enraged at finding himself excluded from the succession, that herushed off, accompanied by a party of lawless young men, and ravaged allCambridgeshire, committing dreadful excesses. It is to be hoped that hewas already under the influence of the brain-fever which came on in afew days' time, immediately after he had pillaged Bury St. Edmund's, andof which he died; leaving a belief among the country people, that, like King Sweyn, he had been struck by the avenging hand of the Sainthimself. His father, King Stephen, only lived a few months after, wornout by the toils and troubles which he had brought on himself by his ownambition. His son William, who would have opposed Henry's accession, was prevented, by breaking his leg by a fall from his horse, and Henrypeaceably gained the throne. His mother, Empress Maude, had in themeantime retired to Anjou, where she led a quiet life, giving up herrights to her son, and apparently profiting by the lesson she had beentaught when her prosperity was turned at its full tide by her own prideand presumption. 

Of the boys bred up in the good household of Dunfermline, Aelred was thelast survivor. Waltheof had the happiness, before his death, of seeinghis brother, the proud Earl Simon of Northampton, repent heartily, leavehis evil courses, found churches, and endow the convent of Waldon, whichhe had once persecuted for sheltering his brother. Waltheof was electedto be Bishop of St. Andrews, and Aelred, as head of the Cistercians inBritain, came to Melrose, to order him, on his canonical obedience, toaccept the see. But Waltheof was weak in health, and knew that anothercall had gone forth. He pointed to a stone slab on the floor of thechapter-house. "There, " said he, "is the place of my rest. Here will bemy habitation, among my children. "

And in a short time he died, in the year 1159. Aelred lived seven oreight years longer, and was highly honored and trusted by the youngMalcolm of Scotland. On his behalf the old Abbot undertook a journey, to treat with the wild men of Galloway, whom Malcolm had three timesdefeated in battle, and now wished to bring to terms. He succeededin persuading their chief to submit, and even to become a canon atHolyrood. 

He afterward attended a chapter of his order at Pavia, and died atRivaux, after a long illness, about 1166. 

 CAMEO XIX. 

 YOUTH OF BECKET. (1154-1162)

 _King of England_. 1154. Henry II. 

 _King Of Scotland_. 1153. Malcolm V. 

 _King of France_. 1137. Louis VII. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1138. Konrad II. 1152. Friedrich II. 

 _Popes_. 1154. Adrian IV. 1159. Alexander III. 

Henry of Anjou showed, in his journey to England, both courage andmoderation. He remained there for some little time, and then returnedhome to join his father in a war against the Count de Montreuil, whowas befriended by both Pope and King of France. The Pope excommunicatedGeoffrey, but he fought on, and made his enemy prisoner; then, at thecommand of the King of France, released him. When the Pope would haveabsolved Geoffrey, he refused, saying he had only done justice, and hadnot deserved the sentence. A few months after, in 1151, a cold bath, when he was heated with riding, brought on a fever that caused hisdeath. 

He left his son Henry his county of Anjou, to be resigned to Geoffrey ifhe should become King of England, and commanded that his body should notbe interred till Henry had taken an oath to that effect. From this oathHenry was absolved by Adrian IV, properly Nicholas Brakespeare, the onlyEnglish Pope, and stripped his brother of all his possessions. It wasno good omen for his own relations with his sons. His mother lived manyyears in retirement, and used her influence chiefly for good. She diedin 1167. 

Henry, meantime, had come to the throne in 1154, and was the mightiestKing who had yet reigned in England. More than half France washis--partly by inheritance, and partly by marriage with Eleanor, heiressof Aquitaine; and he was quite able to rule his vast dominions. Hisalertness and activity were the wonder of every one. He made journeyswith great rapidity, was always busy, and hardly ever sat down. He hada face like a lion, well-knit limbs, and a hardy temperament. He washeedless what he ate or wore, and was an embodiment of vehemence andactivity. He threw himself eagerly into the work of reducing to orderthe dreadful state of things allowed by Stephen. 

Down came the castles--once more the nobles found they had a strong handover them--no more dens of robbers were permitted--the King was here, there, and everywhere. He had English to tame Anglo-Normans, Angevinsto set on French Normans, Poitevins to turn loose on both. He knew whatorder was, and kept it; and the counsellor who aided him most must nowbe described. 

Here is the romantic ballad-tale of that counsellor's origin, though itis much to be feared that the fact cannot be established. 

In the reign of Henry I. The citizens of London were amazed by thesight of a maiden in an Eastern dress, wandering along the streets, plaintively uttering the word "Gilbert!" Certain seafaring men declaredthat she had prevailed on them to take her on board their vessel andbring her to England, by constantly repeating the name "London!"--theonly other word in the language that she knew. 

Poor lady! The mob of London were less compassionate than the sailorshad been. They hooted and hunted her, till she came to Southwark, infront of a house belonging to Gilbert à Becket, a rich and prosperousmerchant, who, with his faithful serving-man, Richard, had latelyreturned from pilgrimage. Richard, who had come out on hearing thenoise, hurried back into the house as soon as he perceived its cause;then, hastening out again, went up to the poor, persecuted maiden, whofainted away at the sight of him. He carried her to the house of anhonorable widow lady, desiring her, in his master's name to take care ofthe desolate stranger, with whom, on her revival, he held converse inher own tongue, and seemed to cheer her greatly. 

Meanwhile, Gilbert à Becket was on his way to St. Paul's, to consult theBishop of London. He related how, in the East, he and his man Richardhad been taken captive by the Saracens, and become slaves to a wealthyEmir. In the course of their services to their master, Gilbert hadattracted the notice of his daughter, who had more than once askedhim questions about his faith and country, and had at last offered tocontrive his escape, if he would take her for his wife, and bring her tohis own land. Gilbert, who did not trust her, effected his escape withRichard without her assistance, and returned to England, little thinkingthey should ever see her again. But she followed him, leaving herhome, her riches, and her father, and seeking him through his long anddangerous journey, ignorant of all save his name, and the name of hiscity. 

Five other prelates were present when he told the story, and one, theBishop of Chichester, exclaimed, that Heaven itself most have conductedthe damsel, and advised that Gilbert should at once marry her. The nextday she was brought to St. Paul's, and was there baptized by the name ofMatilda, Richard acting as interpreter; and shortly after the weddingtook place. 

This romantic story was the origin of several old English ballads, oneof which celebrates the Saracen lady by the extraordinary title of SusyPye, perhaps a vulgarism of her original Eastern name. 

In the first year of his marriage, Gilbert went on pilgrimage again, leaving his wife under the care of his man Richard. Soon after hisdeparture she gave birth to a son, to whom she gave the name of Thomas, and who was three years old by the time his father returned from theHoly Land. They afterward had two daughters, named Mary and Agnes, andlived in great piety and happiness, until the time of Matilda's death, at the end of twenty-two years. 

Thomas received a clerkly education from the Canons of Merton, andshowed such rare ability that his whole family deemed him destined forgreat things. He was very tall and handsome, and his aquiline nose, quick eyes, and long, slender, beautiful hands, accorded with thestory of his Eastern ancestry; and he was very vigorous and athletic, delighting in the manly sports of the young men of his time. In hisboyhood, while he was out hawking with a knight who used to lodge inhis father's house when he came to London, he was exposed to a seriousdanger. They came to a narrow bridge, fit only for foot-passengers, witha mill-wheel just below. The knight nevertheless rode across the bridge, and Thomas was following, when his horse, making a false step, fell intothe river. The boy could swim, but would not make for the bank, withoutrescuing the hawk, that had shared his fall, and thus was drawn by thecurrent under the wheel, and in another moment would have been torn topieces, had not the miller stopped the machinery, and pulled him out ofthe water, more dead than alive. 

It seems that it was the practice for wealthy merchants to lodge theircustomers when brought to London by business, and thus young Thomasbecame known to several persons of high estimation in their severalstations. A rich merchant called Osborn gave him big accounts to keep;knights noticed his riding, and clerks his learning and religious life. 

Some of the clergy of Theobald, Archbishop of Canterbury, who were amongthose guests, were desirous of presenting him to their master. He atfirst held back, but they at length prevailed with him: he became amember of the Archbishop's household, and, after he had improved himselfin learning, was ordained deacon, and presented with the Archdeaconry ofCanterbury, an office which was then by no means similar to what weat present call by that name. It really then meant being chief of thedeacons, and involved the being counsellor, and, in a manner, treasurerto the Bishop of the diocese; and thus, to be Archdeacon of Canterbury, was the highest ecclesiastical dignity in the kingdom, next to that ofthe prelates and great mitred abbots. 

Thomas à Becket was a secular clerk, bound by none of the vows ofmonastic orders; and therefore, though he led a strictly pure andself-denying life, he did hot consider himself obliged to abstain fromworldly business or amusements, and in the year 1150 he was appointedChancellor by Henry II. He was then in his thirty-eighth year, of greatability and cultivation, graceful in demeanor, ready of speech, clear inmind, and his tall frame (reported to have been no less than six feettwo in height) fitting him for martial exercise and bodily exertion. TheKing, a youth of little past twenty, delighting in ability wherever hefound it, became much attached to his gallant Chancellor, and not onlysought his advice in the regulation of England after its long troubles, but, when business was done, they used to play together like twoschoolboys. 

It must have been a curious scene in the hall of Chancellor Becket, when, at the daily meal, earls and barons sat round his table, andknights and nobles crowded, so thickly at the others, that the bencheswere not sufficient, and the floor was daily strewn with hay or straw inwinter, or in summer with green boughs, that those who sat on it mightnot soil their robes. Gold and silver dishes, and goblets, and therichest wines, were provided, and the choicest, most costly viands werepurchased at any price by his servants for these entertainments: theyonce gave a hundred shillings for a dish of eels. But the Chancellorseldom touched these delicacies, living on the plainest fare, as he satin his place as the host, answering the pledges of his guests, amusingthem with his converse, and providing minstrelsy and sports of all kindsfor their recreation. Often the King would ride into the hall, in themidst of the gay crowd seated on the floor, throw himself off his horse, leap over the table, and join in the mirth. 

These rich feasts afforded afterward plentiful alms for the poor, whowere never forgotten in the height of Becket's magnificence, andthe widow and the oppressed never failed to find a protector in theChancellor. 

His house was full of young squires and pages, the sons of the nobility, who placed them there as the best school of knighthood; and among themwas the King's own son Henry, who had been made his pupil. 

The King seems to have been apt to laugh at Becket for his strict lifeand overflowing charity. One very cold day, as they were riding, theymet an old man in a thin, ragged coat. 

"Poor old man!" said Henry, "would it not be a charity to give him agood, warm cloak?"

"It would, indeed. " said Becket: "you had better keep the matter inmind. "

"No, no; it is you that shall have the credit of this great act ofcharity, " said Henry, laughing. "Ha! old man, should you not like thisnice, warm cloak?" and, with those words, he began to pull at thescarlet and gray mantle which the Chancellor wore. Becket struggledfor it, and in this rough sport they were both nearly pulled off theirhorses, till the clasp gave way, and the King triumphantly tossed hisprize to the astonished old man. 

The Chancellor was in the habit of daily giving more costly gifts thanthese, both to rich and poor; gold and silver, robes and jewels, finearmor and horses, hawks and hounds--even fine new ships, were bestowedby him, from the wealth of the old merchant Gilbert, as well as from therevenues of his archdeaconry, and of several other benefices, which thelax opinions of his time caused him to think no shame to keep in his ownhands. 

We cannot call Thomas à Becket by any means a perfect character; butthoroughly conscientious he must ever have been, and very self-denying, keeping himself pure from every stain in the midst of the court, andguarding himself by strict discipline. He was found to be in the habitof sleeping on the bare boards beside his rich bed, and in secret hewore sackcloth, and submitted to the lash of penance. His uprightnessand incorruptibility as a judge, his wisdom in administering the affairsof state, and his skill in restoring peace to England, made the reign ofHenry Plantagenet a relief indeed to his subjects. 

In almost every respect he lived like a layman. He hunted and hawked, and was found fault with by the Prior of Leicester for wearing a capewith sleeves, which it seems was an unclerical garment. The priorsaid it was more unsuitable in one who held so many ecclesiasticalpreferments, and was likely to become Archbishop of Canterbury. 

To this Thomas answered: "I know three poor priests, each of whom Iwould rather see Archbishop than myself. If I had that rank, I know fullwell I must either lose the King's favor, or set aside my duty to God. "

When Henry went to war with France respecting the inheritance of Eleanorof Aquitaine, his wife, his Chancellor brought to his aid seven hundredknights of his own household, besides twelve hundred in his pay, andfour thousand foot soldiers. He fed the knights themselves at his owntable, and paid them each three shillings a day for the support of theirsquires and horses; and he himself commanded them, wearing armor, andriding at their head. He kept them together by the sound of a long, slender trumpet, such as was then used only by his own band; and incombat he showed himself strong and dexterous in the use of lance andsword, winning great admiration and respect even from the enemy. 

Henry resolved to come to a treaty, and to seal it by asking the Kingof France, Louis le Jeune, to give his daughter Margaret in marriage toHenry, the heir of England. Becket was sent on this embassy, and thesplendor of his equipment was such as might become its importance. 

Two hundred men on horseback, in armor or gay robes, were his immediatefollowers, and with them came eight waggons, each drawn by five horses, a groom walking beside each horse, and a driver and guard to everywaggon, besides a large, fierce dog chained beneath each. The waggonscarried provisions and garments, and furniture for the night: two werefilled with ale for the French, who much admired that English liquor;another was fitted up as a kitchen, and another for a chapel. There weretwelve sumpter horses carrying small articles, and on the back of eachof these sat a long-tailed ape!

Dogs and hawks, with their attendants, accompanied the procession, thewhole marshalled in regular order, and the men singing as they went;and the impression on the minds of all beholders was, "If such was theChancellor, what must be the King?"

At Paris all these riches were given away, and so resolved was Becketto keep up his character for munificence, that he did not choose to bemaintained at the expense of the French King; and when Louis, wishing toforce him into being his guest, sent orders to the markets round to sellnothing to the English Chancellor, his attendants disguised themselves, and bought up all the provisions in the neighborhood. King Louisacquired a great esteem and admiration for the Chancellor, and willinglygranted his request, betrothing Margaret, who was only seven years old, to Prince Henry. She, as well as her little husband, became Becket'spupils, by desire of King Henry, and she, at least, never seems to havelost her attachment to him. 

The time Becket dreaded came. The good, old, peaceable ArchbishopTheobald died in 1162, and Henry, who was then at Falaise, ordered hisChancellor to England, ostensibly to settle a disturbance in the westerncounties, but in reality, as he declared in a private interview, that hemight be elected to the primacy. 

Becket smiled, and, pointing to his gay robes, said, "You are choosing apretty dress to figure at the head of your monks of Canterbury. If youdo as you say, my lord, you will soon hate me as much as you love menow, for you assume an authority in Church affairs to which I shall notconsent, and there will be plenty of persons to stir up strife betweenus. "

Henry did not heed the warning, and King, Bishops, and the Chapterof Canterbury unanimously chose Becket as Archbishop, with only onereluctant voice, that of Gilbert Folliot, Bishop of London, who expectedthe same promotion himself. On Whit-Sunday Thomas received priest'sorders, and shortly after was consecrated Bishop by Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester, and brother of King Stephen. John of Salisbury, apriest of Becket's household, and his intimate friend, was sent to Rometo ask for the pallium; and, bringing it home, laid it on the altar ofCanterbury Cathedral, whence the Archbishop took it up. 

The magnificent Archdeacon was expected by King Henry to lead the samelife when Archbishop, and thus to secularize the Church. But Henry hadmistaken his man. Clever and clear-sighted as the King was, seven yearsof transacting business together, and of familiar intercourse with thefrank-hearted, free-spoken Thomas à Becket, had failed to make himconscious of the inner life and deep devotion, the mortification anduncompromising sense of duty, that was the true spring of his actions. It was no secret; Becket avowed it from the first; the King only did notsee it, because he _could_ not understand it. 

Becket had too high an idea of the office of a bishop to unite the careof state affairs with it, and he at once resigned the chancellorship. Outwardly there was not much difference--he still kept a magnificenttable, and entertained nobles and knights at his banquets; but hisself-discipline was secretly carried to a far greater extent thanbefore. He touched the wine-cup with his lips, to do honor to hisguests, but his drink was water in which hay had been boiled; and thoughcostly meats were placed before him, he hardly tasted them, and hischief food was bread. He doubled all the gifts that Archbishop Theobaldhad been wont to make to the poor convents and hospitals, and gave verylarge alms. Every day he washed the feet of thirteen beggars, then fedthem, and gave them each four shillings. This was, in fact, consideredas a religious duty, almost an obligation on certain occasions. It isa ceremony still performed by the Pope at Passion-tide; and QueenElizabeth herself used to do so on Maundy Thursday. The gifts nowdistributed by the Queen on that day are a relic of the custom. 

Archbishop Becket, when at Canterbury, often visited the cloisters, where he sat reading among the monks; and he often went to see andconsole the sick or infirm brethren, who were unable to leave theircells. He was much loved and respected by those who knew him best; butthe nobles, who had usurped lands belonging to his see, dreaded hismaintenance of his rights, and hoped for disagreements between him andthe King--especially one Randolf de Broc, who wrongfully held the Castleof Saltwood, near Canterbury. 

However, at the first meeting all was smooth. On the return of the courtthe Archbishop brought his pupil, Prince Henry, to meet his father atSouthampton, and was received with great affection. The King embracedhim eagerly, and spent much time apart with him, discussing all that hadtaken place in his absence. 

 CAMEO XX. 

 THE CONSTITUTIONS OF CLARENDON. (1163-1172. )

 _King of England_. 1151. Henry II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1165. William. 

 _King of France_. 1137. Louis VII. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1152. Friedrich II. 

 _Pope_. 1159. Alexander III. 

The strife between the Crown and the Mitre was not long in breaking outagain. The former strife had been on the matter of investiture; thestrife of the twelfth century was respecting jurisdiction. 

We sometimes hear the expression, "Without benefit of clergy, " and thereaders of the "Lay of the Last Minstrel" cannot have forgotten Williamof Deloraine's declaration, "Letter or line know I never a one, Were't my neck-verse at Harribee. "

These are witnesses of the combat between Henry II. And Thomas à Becket. The Church, as bearing the message of peace, claimed to be exempt fromthe sword of the State. Her sacred buildings protected the criminal, the inhabitants of her lands were spared in war, and offences committedeither by an ecclesiastic or against one, were not liable to be punishedby the temporal power. This protection was extended not only overactually ordained clergymen, but all who held any office in connectionwith ecclesiastical affairs--all students, nay, all who were clerksenough to read and write. Thus the wild borderers, when made prisoners, escaped the halter by pretending to read a verse of the _Miserere_, which they had learnt by heart in case of such an emergency, and calledtheir neck-verse; and "without benefit of clergy" was added to new laws, to prevent education from exempting persons from their power. 

But this arose long after the battle had been fought and won; and itis not to be supposed, that the Church left offenders unpunished. Imprisonment, loss of rank, and penance, fell heavily on them, andit was only very hardened and desperate men who would die underexcommunication rather than endure all that was required before theycould be reconciled to the Church. 

Henry II. Had found the course of justice seriously impeded by theseprivileges of the clergy, and convoking a council at Westminster, in1163, called on the bishops to consent that, as soon as a clerk shouldbe proved guilty of a crime, he should be deprived of his orders, andhanded over to receive punishment as a layman, at the hands of theKing's officer. 

According to our views in the present day, this demand was just, but tothe Church of the twelfth century it seemed an attempt to deprive herof powers committed to her trust; and considering the uncertainty ofjustice, and the lawless tyranny and cruelty often exercised by thesovereigns and nobles, the resistance made to Henry II. Cannot bewondered at. 

The bishops, however, first took the King's view, and argued that acrime was worse in a clerk than in another, so that he deserved noimmunity. To this Becket answered, that the loss of his orders was onepenalty, and it was not right that he should be punished twice for thesame offence. They said that the King would be displeased, and it wouldbe better to give up their liberties than to perish themselves. Thiscowardly plea Becket treated no better than it deserved, and broughtthem over to his side, so that they all answered the King, that theirduty forbade them to comply with his demand; Henry put the question inanother form, asking them whether they would in all things observe theroyal Constitutions of his ancestors. Becket replied, "We will in allthings, saving the privileges of our order;" and so, one by one, saidthey all, except Hilary of Chichester, who was afraid, and left outthe important restriction. But by this cowardice all he gained was theKing's contempt. Henry chose him as the one on whom to vent his passion, abused him violently, and quitted the council, in one of his furiousfits of rage. 

Thenceforth Henry was at war with Becket. One of his first acts ofspite, was exiling the Archbishop's friend, John of Salisbury, afaithful priest, and an excellent scholar, as his correspondence withhis master remains to testify. It is curious to read his account ofParis. "The people here seem to enjoy abundance of everything; theChurch ceremonies are performed with great splendor, and I thought, withJacob, 'Surely the Lord is in this place, and I knew it not;' also, inthe words of the poet, "'Blessed is the banish'd man who liveth here. '

"The French are much afraid of our King Henry, and hate him mostintensely; but this between ourselves. "

The Archbishop wrote to the Pope for counsel, but the King had stronginfluence at Rome, and the Pope only advised Becket to preserve peace;owning that what the King demanded was wrong, but recommending Becket togive way, and make friends, so that England might be once more at hisbeck and call. 

For this policy Becket was far too straight-forward, and his perplexitywas great, especially when the Archbishop of York, who had always beenhis enemy, the jealous and disappointed Gilbert Folliot of London, andthe time-serving Hilary of Chichester, all declared themselves of theKing's party. 

The Pope and his legate prevailed with Becket to consent to theConstitutions of the realm, without making any exception; the King saidthis must be done in public, and in January, 1164, convoked a councilfor the purpose at Clarendon, in Wiltshire. 

The Constitutions were read, and proved to contain much that wascontrary to the canons of the Church; they were discussed and commentedon for three days, and then, to Becket's surprise and dismay, he wasrequired not only to agree to them by word of mouth, as he had alreadydone, but to set his archiepiscopal seal to them. He rose, andexclaimed, much agitated, "I declare by God Almighty, that no seal ofmine shall ever be set to such Constitutions as these. "

The King left the room in a fury, and great confusion ensued, of whichwe have no clear account. The nobles broke in on the bishops, andthreatened them in the King's name; the Grand Master of the Templarspersuaded Becket, and it seems that his firmness in some degreegave way, though whether what he repented of was the sealing theConstitutions, or merely the promise he had given, we cannot tell. Theassembly broke up, the King and each of the Archbishops taking a copy ofthe Constitutions. 

Becket, as he rode away, lamented over what had passed, as his faithfulfriend and biographer, Herbert of Bosham, has recorded. "My sins are thecause why the Church of England is reduced to bondage, " he said. "I wastaken from the court to fill this station, a proud and vain man; notfrom the cloister, nor from a school of the Saviour, but from the palaceof Caesar. I was a feeder of birds, and I was suddenly made a feeder ofmen; I was a patron of players, and a follower of hounds, and I becamea shepherd over many souls. I neglected my own vineyard, and yet wasintrusted with the care of others. "

He fasted, and abstained from ministering at the altar, till he hadreceived from the Pope a letter of absolution for his act of weakness;and as the Pope gave no ratification of the Constitutions of Clarendon, he did not consider them binding. 

Henry shifted his ground, and, calling another Council at Northampton in1164, brought various petty charges against the Archbishop. The firstwas, that a man named John Marshall had failed to obtain justice in hiscourt. The truth was, that the man had been caught making oaths on ajest-book, instead of on the Gospels; and Becket, instead of cominghimself to state this, sent four knights with letters explaining it. 

For this neglect, as it was said, of the King's summons, Becket wascondemned to forfeit the whole of his personal property; and to this hesubmitted, but without appeasing the King, who went on to accuse him oftaking the public money while Chancellor, when, as every one knew, hehad spent far more largely than ever he had received in the King'sservice. Not a person was there who did not know that his characterstood far above such base charges; besides, an appointment to anecclesiastical dignity was always supposed to clear from all formercharges. 

Henry de Blois, Bishop of Winchester, brother of King Stephen, went tothe King, and offered to pay the whole sum required of Becket; but hewas not listened to, and the Bishops of Chichester and London plainlytold the Archbishop, that what was aimed at was to force him to resign. The plain, blunt Bishop of Lincoln said, "The man's life is in danger;he will lose it, or his bishopric; and what good his bishopric will dohim without his life, I do not see. "

On the decisive day on which he was expected to submit to judgment, Archbishop Thomas rose early and celebrated mass; after which, arrayedin his pontifical dress, except his mitre and pall, he set out for theplace of meeting, attended by his faithful clerks. He wished to havegone thither barefoot, and, bearing his cross, to have thrown himself atthe feet of the King, and intercede with him for the liberties of theChurch; but his clergy and the Templars persuaded him to relinquish thisdesign, contrary to his own judgment. He returned to it again so far, that, on dismounting in the Castle court, he took his cross fromAlexander Llewellyn, its bearer, and carried it himself into the hall. The Bishop of Hereford ran up to him, saying, "Suffer me, my lord, tocarry the cross; it is better than that you should carry it yourself. "

"Nay, my son, " he answered, "suffer me to retain it, as the banner underwhich I fight. "

A French archdeacon, who was present, said to the Bishop of London, "Mylord, do you allow the Archbishop to carry his own cross?"

"My good friend, " was Folliot's rude reply, "he always was a fool, andwill continue so to the end. "

But when all gave way before the majestic figure of the Archbishop, withthe cross in his hand, Gilbert went up to him, and tried to snatch itaway, telling him he was disturbing the peace; for the King would takethe sword, and then the King and Archbishop would be matched againsteach other. 

"So be it, " said Becket; "my cross is the sign of peace; the King'ssword is an instrument of war. "

He sat down to wait, while the other prelates were called to aconsultation with the King in another apartment. His clerks sat round, and Herbert de Bosham said, "If they lay violent hands on you, you canexcommunicate them all. "

"Far be that from our lord, " rejoined Fitzstephen, his secretary; "lethim rather follow the pattern of the ancient confessors and martyrs, andpray for his enemies and persecutors. "

One of the King's marshals touched Fitzstephen on the shoulder, tellinghim it was forbidden to speak to the Archbishop; upon which he glancedat his master, and pointed to the cross, to express what he wasforbidden to say. 

The King sat in his own chamber, and the bishops and barons were sent inturn with messages from him to the Archbishop. Becket appealed to thePope, and the bishops, on their side, appealed against the Archbishop;and then the Earls of Leicester and Cornwall were sent to pronouncesentence on him; but instead of allowing them to proceed, he declaredthat the King had no right to call him to account for what had happenedbefore he was Archbishop; for it had been expressly declared, when hewas appointed, that he was freed from all former claims. 

This was a point of view in which the Earls had not seen the case, andthey said they must go back to the King. "One word more, " said Becket:"as the soul is more worthy than the body, so you are bound to obey Godrather than the King. Can the son judge his father? I can receive nojudgment from you or the King; the Pope alone, under God, is my judge. Iplace myself and my Church under his protection. I call the bishops, whohave obeyed their King rather than God, to answer before his tribunal;and so, protected by the Holy Catholic Church and the power of theApostolic See, I leave this court. "

He rose, followed by his clerks. Cries of abuse followed him; Ranulf deBroc shot straws at him, and a relation of the King reproached him withsneaking away like a traitor. "If I were a knight, " said the Archbishop, "my sword should answer that foul speech. "

It was only the King's immediate followers that thus reviled him; thepoor crowded after him in multitudes, so that he could hardly holdin his horse, carry the cross, which he still retained, and give hisblessing to those who sought it. "See, " he said to his clerks, "what aglorious train escorts me home! These are the poor of whom Christ spake, partakers of my distress: open the door, and let us feast together!"

On coming to the monastery, they first went to the chapel, where heprayed, and laid down the cross; then went to the refectory to takefood. In talking over the events of the day, he bade his clerks bewareof retorting on their enemies the abuse that was poured on them. "Torail, " he said "is the mark of an inferior; to bear it, of a superior. If we would teach them to control their tongues, let us show that wecontrol our ears. "

In the reading that evening, at supper, the text occurred, "If theypersecute you in one city, flee to another. " This Becket took asdirection for his course, and sent to ask the King for a safe-conduct toreturn to Canterbury. The King said he should have an answer to-morrow, which Becket and his clerks considered as a sign that his life was notsafe. That night, therefore, he, with three of his clergy, mounted atthe postern of the monastery, and rode off, in such torrents of rain, that four times he was obliged to cut off a portion of his long cloak torelieve himself of the weight. He made for Kent, travelling by night andhiding by day, for twenty days, till he reached the coast, and at Estreywas hidden for several days in a little secret chamber opening intothe parish church, whence, at mass, he gave the blessing to thecongregation, though they knew it not. At last a small open boat wasprocured, and, embarking on the 2d of November, 1164, he safely landednear Gravelines. 

The county of Boulogne belonged to Mary de Blois, Stephen's daughter. She had taken the veil at Romsey, when a girl; but on the death of herbrothers, Eustace and William, became the heiress of her mother's countyof Boulogne, and had been stolen away and married, for the sake of herinheritance, by Matthew of Flanders. The Archbishop had opposed thismarriage, and the count was therefore his enemy, so that he was obligedto pass through his territory in the disguise of a Cistercian monk, calling himself Brother Christian. 

Twice he was in danger of discovery. The first time was when they met aparty of young men hawking. Becket, who had never lost his admirationfor the noble birds (for one of whom he had so nearly lost his life), showed so much interest in the falcons, that their owner, surprised atseeing so much sportsmanship in a monk, exclaimed, "You must be theArchbishop of Canterbury!" "What!" said another of the hawking party, "do you think the Archbishop travels in this sort?" And thus Becket wassaved from being obliged to make answer. The next time was at supper, when they had reached the inn at Gravelines, where his great height andbeautiful hands attracted attention; and the host, further remarkingthat he bestowed all the choicest morsels on the children, was convincedthat this must be the English Archbishop, whose escape was already knownon the Continent, and falling down at his feet, blessed the saints forbringing such a guest under his roof. Becket was much afraid the goodman might unintentionally betray him, and left Gravelines early the nextmorning, on his way to the monastery of St. Bertin's, at St. Omer. It isamusing to find Becket's faithful clerks, on the Friday when they wereto arrive at that hospitable convent, trying to coax their master togrant them leave, after their journey, to eat a little meat: "for, suppose there should be a scarcity of fish. " Here they were joined byHerbert de Bosham, who had been sent to Canterbury to collect such moneyand valuables as he could bring away. 

Henry had in the meantime sent an embassy to desire the King of Francenot to shelter "the late Archbishop;" but it met with no favorablereception from Louis. "He is a noble-minded man, " said he; "if I knewwhere to find him, I would go with my whole court to meet him. "

"But he did much harm to France, " said the Earl of Arundel, "at the headof the English army. "

"That was his duty, " said Louis; "I admire him the more. If he had beenmy servant, he would have done the same for me. "

Nor did the embassy meet with much better success on going to Sens, where Pope Alexander III. Then was. The Bishop of London began to abusethe Archbishop virulently, saying that he had fled, "as the Scripturesaith. 'The wicked fleeth when no man pursueth. '"

"Nay, " interrupted the Pope, "spare. I entreat you, spare--"

"I will spare him, holy father, " said Gilbert

"Not _him_, but _yourself_, brother, " said Alexander; and Gilbert wassilenced. 

Finding how favorably both Pope and King were disposed toward him, Becket left his retreat at St. Omer, and was received with much respectby Louis at Soissons, after which he proceeded to Sens. There he wastreated with high honor by Alexander, and almost his first measurewas to confess, with deep grief, that he considered his electionuncanonical, "the handiwork of men, and not of God, " and that thereforethese troubles had fallen on his Church. He therefore gave up his see;but the Pope would not accept his resignation, and assigned to him theCistercian Abbey of Pontigny as his dwelling-place. Here he remained twoyears, while the King persecuted his adherents and banished his kindred. Four hundred poor creatures were stripped of their goods, and turnedadrift in Flanders, where they must have perished, had not the Count andthe Empress Maude taken pity on them. 

 CAMEO XXI. 

 DEATH OF BECKET. 

 (1166-1172. )

 _King of England. _ 1154. Henry II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1165. William. 

 _King of France. _ 1137. Louis VII. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1152. Friedrich II. 

 _Pope_. 1159. Alexander III. 

In 1166, Pope Alexander III. Returned to Rome, after many vain attemptsto reconcile the King and Archbishop, and it was determined that Becketshould pronounce sentence of excommunication on the King and his chieffollowers in his uncanonical proceedings. Henry was at this timeseriously ill, and Becket therefore did not include him under thesentence; the others were excommunicated, and this so exasperated Henry, that he intimated to the monks at Pontigny that he should seize all thepossessions of the Cistercians in England, if they continued to harborhis enemy. 

The poor monks were much distressed, and laid the letter before theirguest, who could, of course, do no other than depart. "He who feeds thebirds of the air, and clothes the lilies of the field, will providefor me and my fellow-exiles, " said he; and he soon after received aninvitation from the King of France to choose any castle or convent inhis dominions for his abode. He selected the Abbey of St. Columba, alittle beyond the walls of Sens, and took leave of the brethren atPontigny, with such a burst of tears that the abbot remarked them withsurprise, and begged to know their cause. "I feel that my days arenumbered, " said Becket; "I dreamt, last night, that I was put to death. "

"Do you think you are going to be a martyr?" said the abbot. "You eatand drink too much for that. "

"I know that I am too self-indulgent, " said the Arch bishop; "but God ismerciful, albeit I am unworthy of His favor. "

Legates were sent by the Pope to negotiate, and many letters werewritten on either side, but without effect. The difference was said tolie in a nutshell; but where the liberties of the Church were concerned, Becket was inflexible. At the Epiphany, 1169, he was put to a severetrial; Henry himself, who had long been at war with Louis le Jeune, came to Montmirail, to hold a conference and sign a treaty, and he wassummoned to attend it. By the advice of the legates and other clergy, Becket had agreed to give up the phrase which had formerly given theKing so much offence at Clarendon, "Saving the privileges of my order, "but not without inserting in its stead an equivalent, "Saving the honorof God, " which, as being concerned in that of the Church, meant the samething. 

Yet on this the clergy of France, who were always extremely submissiveto the crown, were by no means of Becket's opinion, and tried so hard topersuade him, for the sake of peace, to suppress this clause altogether, and make no reservation, that the bold and faithful Herbert de Boshambegan to fear he might give way, and, pressing through the crowd as theArchbishop was advancing to the presence of the two kings, he whisperedin his ear, "Take heed, my lord--walk warily. I tell you truly, if youleave out the words, 'Saving God's honor, ' as you suppressed the otherphrase, saving your own order, your sorrow will be renewed, and the morebitterly. "

The throng was so dense, that Becket could only answer him by a look, and he remained in great anxiety as he watched his master advance andthrow himself at the feet of King Henry; then, when raised up by theKing, begin to speak, accusing himself of being by his unworthiness, thecause of the troubles of the English Church. "Therefore, " said he, "Ithrow myself on your mercy and pleasure, my lord, on the whole matterthat lies between us, only _saving the honor of my God. _"

Henry burst out in rage and fury, heaping on Becket a load of abuse;declaring, to the King of France that this was all a pretence and thathe himself was willing, to leave the Archbishop to the full as muchpower as any of his predecessors, but that he knew that, whatever theArchbishop disapproved, he would say was contrary to God's honor. "Now, "said Henry, "there have been many kings of England before me, someof greater power than I am, some of less; and there have been manyarchbishops of Canterbury before him. Now let him behave to me as theholiest of his predecessors behaved to the least of mine, and I amsatisfied. "

There was apparent reason in this, that brought over Louis to Henry'sside, and he said, rather insultingly, "My lord Archbishop, do you wishto be more than a saint?"

But Becket stood firm. He said there had indeed been holier and greaterarchbishops before him, each one of whom had corrected some abuse of theChurch; and had they corrected all, he should not have been exposed tothis fiery trial. Besides, the point was, that Henry was not leaving theChurch as it had been under them, but seeking to bind a yoke on her thatthey had never borne. Almost all the French clergy and nobles were nowagainst him; they called him obstinate and proud; the two kings mountedtheir horses and rode away together, without bidding him farewell; andsome of the last words his clerks heard from the French nobles were, "Hehas been cast out by England; let him find no support in France. "

Dreading what might come next, and grievously disappointed in theirhopes of returning to their homes, even his clerks were out of humor, and blamed his determination. As they rode back in the gloom toward St. Columba, the horse of one happened to stumble, and in his vexation heexclaimed, "Come up, saving the honor of the Church and my order. "

The Archbishop looked grieved, but was silent, and Herbert took thismoment for riding up to him, and saying, "Heaven be praised, my lord, that through all to-day's tribulation you have been sustained by theLord, and have not suffered that slippery member to betray you intoanything against the honor of God. "

The great ground of anxiety was the displeasure of Louis, who hadhitherto not only allowed the exiles to take shelter in his dominions, but absolutely maintained them; and if he was won over by theirpersecutors, what was to become of them?

Their alarm increased as they heard nothing from him of his usualmessages of kindness and friendship, and they were consulting togetheron their plans if they should be turned out of St. Columba. 

"Never fear, " said the Archbishop; "I am the only person King Henrywishes to injure: if I go away, no one will molest you. "

"It is for you we are anxious, " they said; "we do not see where you canfind refuge. "

"Care not for me, " he said: "my God can protect me. Though England andFrance are closed against me, I shall not be undone. I will not apply tothose Roman robbers, who do nothing but plunder the needy. I have heardthat the people who dwell on the banks of the Arar, in Burgundy, areopen-handed. I will go among them, on foot, with one comrade, and theywill surely have compassion on me. "

Just then a messenger came to desire the Archbishop to come to thelodgings of the French King. 

"There! it is to drive us out of his kingdom, " said one of the clerks. 

"Do not forebode evil, " returned Becket. "You are not a prophet, nor theson of a prophet. "

Becket could hardly have been prepared for the manner of his reception. Louis threw himself on his knees, crying out, "My father, forgive me;you were the only wise man among us. We were all blinded and besotted, and advised you to make God's honor give way to a man's will! I repentof it, my father, and entreat you to bestow on me absolution!"

Louis had been brought to this change of mind by a breach of promise onHenry's part, but he never again wavered in his confidence and supportof Becket. 

In the November of the same year there was another interview between thetwo kings and Becket, at Montmartre, near Paris. 

By this time, the Bishops of London and Salisbury had beenexcommunicated for disobedience to their primate; and Henry, expectingthe same stroke to fall on himself, was resolved to put an end to thequarrel, and, bringing back Becket to his kingdom, to deal with himthere as best he might. 

Becket did not, by any means, trust the King's intentions, and hadwritten to ask the Pope what pledge for his security he had betterrequire. Alexander answered, that it was not accordant with thecharacter of an ecclesiastic to stipulate for such pledges, but thathe had better content himself with obtaining from the King a kiss ofpeace. 

Now this kiss Henry would not give. He said he had sworn an oath neverto kiss the Archbishop, and this refusal immediately convinced every onethat evil was intended. Louis and all the Archbishop's friends concurredin advising him never to come to any terms without this seal of friendship, and entirely on this ground the treaty was broken off. One ofBecket's clergy remarked, that the meeting had taken place on the spotwhere St. Denys was put to death, adding, "It is my belief that nothingbut your martyrdom will insure peace to the Church. "

"Be it so, " said Becket; "God grant that she may be redeemed, even atthe sacrifice of my life. "

He began to make up his mind that, since the King had given up the pointat issue, he ought to allow no regard for his personal safety to keephim away from his flock; but just at this point the quarrel becamefurther complicated. Henry, in dread of excommunication, resolvedto have his son Henry crowned, to reign jointly with him, and thedifficulty arose that no one could lawfully perform the coronation butthe primate. Letters prohibiting the bishops from taking part in thecoronation were sent by Becket, but, in the meantime, Gilbert Folliothad been appealing to Rome against his own excommunication. The Pope, who had been shuffling throughout, would not absolve him himself, butgave him letters to the Archbishops of Rouen and Nevers, and theygranted him absolution; on which he returned triumphant to England, andjoined with Roger of York and Hilary of Chichester in setting thecrown on the head of young Henry. It was a measure which every personconcerned in it had bitterly to rue--king, prince, bishops, every one, except Margaret, young Henry's wife, who steadily avoided receiving thecrown from any one but her old tutor and friend, the primate. 

Pope and Archbishop both agreed that this contempt of prohibition mustbe visited by excommunication; and as Alexander had about this timeeffectually humbled the pride of the Emperor Frederick, Henry thought ittime to submit, at least in appearance, lest his realm should be laidunder an interdict. At Freitval, therefore, he met the Archbishop inthe autumn of 1170, and all was arranged. He consented to theexcommunication of those concerned in the coronation; he held Becket'sstirrup; he did everything but give the kiss of peace, but that heconstantly avoided. Even when they went to church together at Tours, when, in the course of the communion service, Henry must have receivedthe kiss from the Archbishop, he contrived to change the service to themass for the dead, in which the kiss did not occur. The last time theKing and Archbishop met was at Chaumont, near Blois, and here they had areturn of old feelings, talked cheerfully and in a friendly manner, andHenry was so much touched by his remembrance of his happiest and bestdays, when his noble Chancellor was his friend and counsellor, thathe exclaimed, "Why will you not do as I wish you? I would put all myaffairs into your hands. "

But Becket told his clerks that he recollected, "All these things will Igive Thee, if Thou wilt fall down and worship me. "

They parted for the last time, and Becket prepared for his return, after his seven years' exile, sending before him letters from the Pope, suspending the Archbishop of York, and excommunicating the other bishopswho had assisted at the coronation. At every step warnings met him thatthe English coast was beset with his foes, lying in wait to murder him;but he was resolved to proceed, and bold Herbert helped to strengthenhis resolution by his arguments. On the 3d of December he set sail fromthe Boulogne coast. "There is England, my lord!" cried the rejoicingclerks. 

"You are glad to go, " he said; "but, before forty days, you will wishyourself anywhere else. "

With extreme joy did the people of Sandwich see, for the first time forseven years, the archepiscopal cross, as it stood high above the prow ofthe ship. They thronged to receive their pastor and ask his blessing, and in every village through which he passed the parish priest cameforth, with cross or banner, his flock in procession behind him, and thebells pealing merrily, while the road was strewed with garlands. 

At Canterbury the joy was extreme; anthems were sung in all thechurches, and the streets resounded with trumpets and the shouts of thepeople in their holiday robes. The Archbishop rode through the midst, saluted each of the monks of Christ Church on the cheek, and then wentstraight to his own cathedral, where his greeting to his flock was asermon on the text, "Here we have no abiding city. "

After taking possession of his palace, Becket set out to London to visithis pupil, the young King, taking him a present of a fine horse; but hewas not allowed to see him, and the courtiers threatened him severely, because of the rejoicings of the citizens of London. At home he was muchannoyed by his old enemy, Ranulf de Broc, who from Saltwood Castle madeforays on all that were going to the archiepiscopal palace, stole hisbaggage, and cut off the tail of one of the poor horses that carried it. 

The bishops who had been placed under the censures of the Church were, meanwhile, in violent anger. Roger of York said he had 8, 000 crowns inhis coffers, and would spend every one of them in beating down Thomas'sinsolence: and together they all set out to make their complaints to theKing, who was at Falaise. 

It would seem that Henry either forgot, or did not choose to tell them, of the permission he had given Becket at Freital, and he went into apassion, saying, if all who were concerned in the coronation were to beexcommunicated, he ought to be one. The Archbishop of York talked ofpatience and good contrivance. "What would you have me do?" said Henry. 

"Your barons must advise you, " said one of the bishops (which, is notknown); "but as long as Thomas lives, you will never be at peace. "

Henry's eyes flashed. "A curse, " cried he, "on all the false varlets Ihave maintained, who have left me so long subject to the insolence of apriest, without attempting to rid me of him!"

A council of the barons was called, and Henry found them willing enoughto advise him as he wished. "The only way to deal with such a fellow, "said one, "is to plait a few withe in a rope, and have him up to agallows. " In the midst of the council, however, it was observed thatfour of the King's knights were missing--Reginald Fitzurse, WilliamTracy, Hugh Morville, and William Brito. It was remembered that they hadheard the King's words about the insolent priest, and, becoming alarmedfor the consequences, Henry sent off the Earl of Mandeville, and someothers, with orders to overtake them, and arrest the Archbishop. 

The four knights had held a hasty council, after which they set outseparately, agreeing to meet in Saltwood Castle, where they were sureof assistance in their designs from Randolf de Broc. They reached it onInnocents' day, and the next day set out for Canterbury, accompanied byseveral of the Broc family and their armed retainers. In the meantime, Becket had been keeping Christmas, and preaching his last sermon onthe text, "Peace on earth, good-will to men. " He had sent away hiscross-bearer, Alexander Llewellyn, and his high-minded friend, Herbertde Bosham, with letters to the Pope--perhaps because he was afraid thatHerbert's boldness might bring him into peril; and he was sitting in hisown chamber writing, when the four knights arrived, and desired to speakwith him. 

He received them with his clergy about him, and they began to threatenhim in the name of the King, and order him to leave the kingdom. He mustfully have understood the meaning of all this; but he stood firm, andquietly answered all their railing. They then told him his doings shouldrecoil on his own head; and on his replying that he was ready to suffermartyrdom, they noisily left the room, Fiturse shouting out, "Ho! clerksand monks, in the King's name seize that man, and keep him till justiceis done. "

"You will find me here, " answered Becket, standing by the door. 

The knights had gone back to arm themselves and join their retainers. In the meantime the terrified clergy fastened all the doors of themonastery, and besought the Archbishop to take shelter in the church;but he seemed the only person present who had no fear, and repliedthat he would not flee--he would remain where he was. At last he waspersuaded to come into church, as it was the hour for vespers, and setoff, with the cross borne before him. 

"My lord! my lord! they are arming!" cried one frightened monk; andanother brought word that they were upon them--Robert de Broc havingshown them the way through the orchard. Still Becket was calm; and asthe monks tried to drag him into the church, he stood at the door, saying, "Go on with the holy service. As long as you are afraid ofdeath, I will not enter. "

They proceeded, and he advanced up the aisle. As he was going up thesteps to the altar, there was a rush of monks into the church; forReginald Fitzurse, with a drawn sword, had just come through thecloister door, the other murderers following. Becket turned, on seeingthe monks trying to bolt and bar the church doors. "It is not right, "said he; "to make a fortress of the house of prayer. It can protectits own, even if its doors are open. We shall conquer our enemies bysuffering, not by fighting. "

The vespers ceased; the clergy threw themselves on the altars forprotection; the Archbishop stood alone with one canon, with Fitzstephenand Edward Grim, a priest who had come to visit him. In rushed the bandof armed men, crying out, "Where is the traitor, Thomas Becket?" To thishe made no answer; but when the cry was, "Where is the Archbishop?" hecame down the steps, saying, "Here I am; no traitor, but a priest of theLord. What would you of me?"

"Absolve those you have excommunicated. "

"They have not repented, and I will not. "

"Then you shall die. "

"I am ready, for the Lord's sake; but, in the name of Almighty God, Iforbid you to harm these, whether priests or laymen. "

"Flee, or you are a dead man!" cried one, striking him with the back ofhis sword, and unwilling, apparently, to slay him in the church. Theytried to push him away from the pillar against which he was standing, but in vain. Becket was a tall, powerful man, expert in the use ofweapons. Had he snatched a sword from one of these, he might have savedhis life; but temporal arms he had long since laid aside, and he onlystood still, clasped his hands in prayer, and commended his soul to hisGod. Reginald Fitzurse began to fear the people might break in to hisrescue, and struck a blow which wounded his head, as well as the armof Edward Grim, who fled to the altar; but Becket did not move hand orfoot--only, as the blood flowed from his face, he said, "In the name ofChrist, and for the defence of the Church, I am ready to die. " Tracystruck him again twice on the head: he staggered, and, as he wasfalling, the fourth stroke, given by Brito, cleft off the top of hisskull with such violence, that the sword broke against the pavement. 

The murderers, after making sure of his death, left the church; themonks took up his corpse, unwounded, save the crown of his head, whichwas shattered to pieces above his tonsure, and laid it out on the highaltar, deeming that he had indeed been a sacrifice, and weeping as theybeheld the beauty of his peaceful expression, as if he had calmly fallenasleep. They folded outward the haircloth shirt he had always wornsecretly; and as the blood still trickled from the wound, it was caughtin a dish. 

The threats of Randolf de Broc obliged them to bury him in haste thenext morning; and they were strictly forbidden to place his coffin amongthose of the former archbishops--a command which they obeyed, from thedread that otherwise his remains might be insulted. They had not long tofear. Europe rang with horror at the crime, and admiration, ratherthan compassion, for the victim. No one was more shocked than the Kinghimself, who was at Bure, in Normandy, when the news reached him. Forthree days he remained shut; up in his room, taking no food, and seeingno one, in an agony of grief and dismay at the consequence of his hastywords, and dwelling on those days of early friendship which he hadpassed with the murdered Becket. Not till these first paroxysms of griefwere over was he even able to think of the danger he was in; and he thensent off an embassy to explain to the Pope how far he was from intendingthe bloody deed, and to entreat forgiveness. 

He was at a loss how to treat the murderers. He could not punish whathis own words had been supposed to authorize, and he dared not let themescape, lest he should be supposed to be their defender. He thereforelet them reap the benefit of the liberties for which Becket had died:their crime was done on the person of a clerk; therefore it was left tothe censures of the Church. 

They had, in the meantime, fled to Morville's Castle, in Cumberland, where they found themselves regarded with universal execration; theirservants shrank from their presence, and, in the exaggerations oftradition, it was said that the very dogs would not approach them. 

Overwhelmed with remorse, they set out for Italy, and dreaded andavoided, as if they bore a mark like the first "murderer and vagabond, "they threw themselves at the feet of the Pope, and entreated to knowwhat they should do to obtain mercy. He ordered them to go on pilgrimageto Jerusalem; and they all went except Tracy, who, lingering behind, wasseized with a dreadful illness, and died at Cosenza. The others all diedwithin three years, with deep marks of penitence, and were buried beforethe door of the Church of the Holy Sepulchre. 

Henry obtained pardon from the Pope on giving up all attempts atsubjecting the Church to the law of the State, and on giving a large sumof money to maintain 200 knights for three years in the Holy Land. Healso largely endowed Mary and Agnes Becket, the Archbishop's sisters, with possessions in his newly-conquered domain in Ireland; and one ofthem became the ancestress of the noble family of Butler, Earls ofOrmonde. 

The cathedral at Canterbury had, in the meantime, been sprinkled withholy water, to purify it from the crime of sacrilege and murder therecommitted, and for which it had been a whole year left neglected, andwithout the celebration of Divine service. On its reopening, giftspoured in from all quarters, in honor of the Archbishop, and it wasrepaired and beautified to a great degree. The beautiful circular chapelat the east end was named Becket's Crown, and the spot by the northtransept, where he fell, was termed The Martyrdom. Reports of miracleshaving been performed at his intercession were carried to Rome, and PopeAlexander canonized him as St. Thomas of Canterbury. The next year, 1174, Henry II. , who was broken down with grief at the rebellion of hissons, rode from Southampton to Canterbury without resting, taking nofood but bread and water, entered the city, and walked through thestreets barefoot to the cathedral, and into the crypt, where he threwhimself prostrate on the ground, while Gilbert Folliot preached to thepeople. 

In the chapter-house Henry caused each of the clergy present, to thenumber of eighty, to strike him over the shoulders with a knotted cord, and afterward spent the whole night beside the tomb. He heard mass thenext morning, and returned to London. 

A few years after, Louis VII. Came to pray at the tomb of his friend forthe recovery of his son Philippe Auguste, who was ill of a fever. Hemade splendid gifts to the cathedral, and in especial a very largediamond, and a golden cup. In Italy Thomas was equally honored. Williamthe Good, of Sicily, who married Joan, daughter to Henry II. , placed acolossal statue of St. Thomas of Canterbury in his new foundation, the Church of Monreale; and at Agnani there is still preserved arichly-embroidered cope, presented by Pope Innocent III. , bearingthirty-six different scenes in delicate needlework, and among them thedeath of the English Archbishop. There are also many German and Frenchrepresentations of the subject; the murderers, in the more ancientones, carefully distinguished by their shields: Morville, _frettyfleur-de-lis_; Tracy, _two bars gules_; Brito, _three bears, headsmuzzled_; Fitzurse, _three bears passant_. 

In Henry III. 's reign a new shrine was built at Canterbury, and theArchbishop's relics were thither translated. No saint in England wasmore popular than St. Thomas of Canterbury, and frequent pilgrimageswere made to his shrine. The Canterbury Pilgrims of Chaucer are thitherjourneying, and Simon of Sudbury, the archbishop killed by Wat Tyler'smob, is said to have made himself unpopular by rebuking the superstitionthat made the ignorant believe in the efficacy of these pilgrimages. 

Then came the reaction. Henry VIII. , little able to endure such a saintas Becket, sent the spoilers to Canterbury. Lord Cromwell burnt hisrelics, and carried off the treasures of gold and jewels, which filledtwo chests, so heavy that six or eight men were wanted to carry each ofthem. Henry wore Louis VII. 's diamond in a ring. The costly shrine wasdestroyed, and the pavement, worn by the knees of the pilgrims, aloneremained to show where Becket's tomb had been. In London, the house ofGilbert à Becket, in Southwark, where the Saracen lady had ended hertoilsome journey, and where Thomas had been born, had, in Henry III. 'sreign, been made a hospital; Edward VI. Granted it for the same use; andthus it still remains, by its old name of St. Thomas's Hospital, whichperhaps would not so generally be given it, if it were known after whatsaint it was so called. His likeness was destroyed in every church andpublic building, so that but one head of St. Thomas à Becket is knownto exist in England--namely, one in stained glass, at the village ofHorton, in Ribblesdale--and even in missals and breviaries it wasdefaced. 

No one has met with more abuse than Becket, ever since the Reformation. Proud, ostentatious, hypocritical, and rebellious--these are the termsusually bestowed on him. How far he deserves them, may be judged from alife detailed with unusual minuteness by three intimate companions, noneof them treating him as faultless. Of the rights of the struggle we willnot speak. No one can doubt that Becket gave his life for the causewhich, in all sincerity, he deemed that of the Church against the World. 

The fate of the murderers has been questioned in later times. It is saidthat they died at home, in peace and fair prosperity; but the evidenceon either side is nearly balanced. 

 CAMEO XXII. 

 THE CONQUEST OF IRELAND. (1172)

Few histories are more strange and confused than the Irish. Theinhabitants of Ierne, or Erin, as far as anything credible can bediscovered about them, were of three different nations, who had in turnsubdued the island before the beginning of history. These were the Tuathde Dunans, the Firbolg, and the Scots, or Milesians. Who the two firstwere, we will not attempt to say, though Irish traditions declare thatsome of them were there before the Flood, and that one Fintan was savedby being transformed into a salmon, and so swimming about till the watersubsided, after which he resumed the human form, and lived so long thatthe saying was, "I could tell you much, if I was as old as Fintan. "

The Milesians are not much behind their predecessors in their claim, forthey say they are descended from a son of Japhet, and first discoveredwriting, and all the arts commonly said to have been derived from Egypt, but which they assert were carried thither by one Neill, who gave hisname to the river Nile, as well as to his sons, all the O'Neills ofIreland. 

It is more certain that these Milesians were Kelts, and were in earlytimes called Scots. A colony of them conquered the Picts; drove theCaledonians into Galway, and gave North Britain, or Albin the name ofLesser Scotland, while their own country, or Greater Scotia, returnedto its former name of Erin, called by the Romans Hibernia, and by theEnglish, Ireland. 

The Erse tongue is nearly the same as the Gaelic, and there was much inthe Irish and Highland institutions showing their common origin. Theclan system prevailed in Ireland, the clans being called Septs, andall having, as a surname, the name of the common ancestor. Hisrepresentative, the chief, was known as the Carfinny; but the successionwas not determined by the rules of primogeniture. It was always in onefamily, but the choice was made by election of the next heir. When aCarfinny died, another came into office who had been chosen on hisaccession as heir, or Tanist, and at the same time another Tanistwas chosen to succeed him as Carfinny at his death. The land was theproperty of the tribe, divided into holdings; and whenever the death ofa considerable proprietor took place, there was a fresh allotment ofthe whole, which, of course, as well as the choice of a Tanist, set thewhole population at war. 

There were four kingdoms--Ulster, Munster, Leinster, and Connaught--towhich the chiefs succeeded by tanistry, besides Meath, another kingdomwhich always belonged to the principal king, or Toparch, who was inlike manner elected as Tanist on each new accession; and the numberof battles and murders among these wild Irish princes is beyond allestimate. Out of 178 kings, 71 were slain in battle, and 60 murdered. 

Christianity was brought to Ireland about the year 400, by St. Colmanand St. Patrick. It does not seem to have materially softened themanners of the people at large, whose wars went on as fiercely as ever;but the churches were seats of peace and learning, whence teachers wentforth in numbers into Gaul, and among the heathen Saxons of England. TheRoman calender shows so many names of Irish hermits, priests, and nuns, that we do not wonder Erin once was known as the Isle of Saints. 

The Northmen made their cruel inroads on Ireland, and swept away muchof the beginnings of civilization. Turges, a Danish chief, was, in 815, King of all Ireland; and having forced Melachlin, or Malachy, King ofMeath, to give up his daughter to him, Melachlin sent with her, in thedisguise of female attendants, sixteen young men armed with skeynes, orlong knives. They killed Turges, and brought the princess back to herfather, who was waiting in ambush at no great distance with his armedmen, set upon the Danes, defeated them, and, being joined by the otherIrish princes, destroyed them all. 

It is said that shortly before, Melachlin, when at the court of Turges, had told him that Ireland was full of a kind of foul, ravenous bird, andasked his advice how to get rid of them; to which Turges answered, thathe had better destroy the nests--eggs, nestlings, and all--counsel whichthe Irish hardly needed; and the massacre of the Danish raven's broodwas frightful. 

During the lull brought about by Alfred's conquests, the Irish enjoyedthe halcyon days remembered as those of Malachy with the collar of gold(which he had torn from the neck of a conquered Dane), and those ofBrien Boromhe, or Boru, the great Brien, in whose reign a maiden, though

 "Rich and rare were the gems she wore, " travelled safely round the Green Isle unprotected, save by "Erin's honor and Erin's pride. "

But when England suffered again, Ireland shared its fate, and, in 1004, Brien Boru, at the age of eighty-eight, perished in the great battle ofClontarf, with his eldest son Morogh, and the Danes gained a permanentsettlement, besides making endless forays on the coast. King OlafTrygvesson, of Norway, conducted one of these descents; and whiledriving off a large herd of cattle, a peasant so piteously entreated tohave his own cows restored, that the king told him he might take them, if he could tell at once which they were, but that he must not delay themarch. The peasant said his dog knew them, and sent the animal into themidst of the herd, which consisted of several hundreds, when he droveout just the number his master had asked, and all bearing the same mark. The King desired to purchase the intelligent animal, but the man beggedthat he would take it as a gift; on which Olaf presented him with a goldring, and kept and valued the faithful Vige as "the best of dogs" formany years after. 

Turlogh, the contemporary of the Conqueror, seems to have beenprosperous, since his subjects were rich enough to buy the unfortunateEnglish, who were sold for slaves, till St. Wulstan put a stop to thetraffic. 

Morogh O'Brien, of Leinster, sent to William Rufus bog oak from thegreen of Oxmanton, on the Liffey, to serve for the timber of the roof ofWestminster Hall; and this wood, enjoying the universal Irish exemptionfrom vermin, is said never to harbor a spider. Morogh was once toldthat William Rufus intended to make a bridge of his ships, and conquerIreland. After some musing, Morogh asked, "Hath the King, in his greatthreatening, said, 'If it please God?'" "No!" "Then, seeing he puttethhis trust only in man, and not in God, I fear not his coming. "

Morogh was a peaceable man. Magnus, the Norse King of Man, by way ofdefiance, sent him his shoes, ordering him to hang them on his shoulderson Christmas-day, as he passed through his hall. The Irish were, ofcourse, much enraged at the insult offered to their master, but Moroghonly laughed at the folly of the conceit, saying, "I will not only bearhis shoes, but I had rather eat them, than that he should destroy oneprovince in Ireland. " Magnus did not, however, give up his purpose ofinvasion, but was killed in reconnoitring the coast. Morogh was murderedat Dublin about 1130, and thenceforward all was dire confusion. 

The Irish Church had never been decidedly under the dominion of Rome, and the Popes, in the divided state of the country, obtained neithermoney nor obedience from it. They thought much advantage might be gainedif it were under the rule of England; and in 1154, Adrian IV. , assumingthat all islands were at the disposal of the Church, gave Henry II. A bull, authorizing him to become Lord of Ireland, provided he wouldestablish the Pope's authority there. However, the Irish, not beinglikely readily to receive their new Lord, and Henry having fulloccupation at home, allowed his grant to rest in oblivion tillcircumstances arose to enable him to avail himself of it. 

Dermod MacMorogh, King of Leinster, a cruel savage, who had barbarouslyrevenged the death of his father, the good Morogh, had, in the year1152, stolen away Devorghal, the wife of Tigheirnach O'Rourke, Prince ofBreffny. The toparch, Turlogh O'Connor, was the friend of O'Rourke, andforced Dermod to make restitution, but the husband and lover, of course, remained bitter enemies; and when O'Connor died, the new chieftain, O'Lachlan, being on the side of Dermod, O'Rourke was severely oppressed, till the tables were turned by O'Lachlan being killed, and RoderickO'Connor, the son of Turlogh, becoming toparch. Thereupon Leinster wasinvaded in 1167, and Dermod was obliged to flee, setting fire to hiscapital at Ferns. He hastened to Henry II. In Normandy, and offered hisallegiance, provided the King would restore him. But Henry was too muchengaged in his disputes with France to attend to the matter, and allDermod could obtain was a letter permitting the English knights to takeup his cause, if they were so inclined. 

With these letters Dermod sought the fierce Normans whose estatesbordered on Wales. The first who attended to him was Richard de Clare, son of the Earl of Pembroke, and surnamed Strongbow--a bold, adventurousman, ruined by his extravagance, and kept at a distance by the King onaccount of his ambition. To him Dermod offered the hand of his daughterEva, and the succession of Leinster, provided he would recover for himthe kingdom. Richard accepted, but thought it prudent to obtain theKing's special permission; and in the meantime, Dermod, by his promises, further engaged in his cause a small band of other knights--RobertFitzstephen, Maurice Fitzgerald, Milo Fitzhenry, Hervé de Montmarais, and some others. In May, 1169, thirty knights, sixty men-at-arms, andthree hundred archers, landed at the Creek of Bann, near Wexford, toconquer Ireland. 

They first besieged Wexford, and took it; then attacked the Princeof Ossory, and gained a great victory; after which they had fullopportunity of seeing of what a savage they had undertaken the defence, for Dermod mangled with his teeth the face of his chief foe among theslain, to gratify his revenge. 

However, they fought not for the right, but for the spoil; and whenRoderick O'Connor sent to declare war against them, and inform them ofthe true character of their ally, they returned a scornful answer; and, with their heavy armor and good discipline, made such progress againstthe half-armed Irish kernes, that Richard Strongbow saw the speculationwas a good one, and was in haste for his share. He went to the King, tobeg him either to give him his inheritance, or to grant him leave toseek his fortune in other lands. "Go where thou wilt, for what I care, "said Henry. "Take Daedalus's wings, and fly away. "

Taking this as sufficient consent, Strongbow sent before him 3, 000 menunder his friend Raymond le Gros, and, landing on St. Bartholomew's day, joined his forces with Dermod, took Waterford, and in a few days wasmarried to Eva. The successes of the English continued, and on the deathof Dermod, which took place shortly after, he declared Earl Richard hisheir. However, the vassals would not submit to the Englishman, and theinvaders were for a time hard beset, and found it difficult to keep theenemy at bay, while the King in great displeasure peremptorily summonedStrongbow to return, and forbade men, horses, or arms to be sent to hisaid. On this Richard found himself obliged to make his peace with theKing, sending Raymond le Gros and Hervé de Montmarais before him. TheKing was at Newnham, in Gloucestershire, and at first refused to seehim, but soon relented; and Richard, on entering his presence, threwhimself on his knees, and gave up to him the city of Dublin, and allother towns and castles on the coast, after which Henry confirmed himin the possession of the rest of Leinster, and made him Seneschalof Ireland, though at the same time confiscating his castles inPembrokeshire, because his expedition had been unsanctioned. In Octoberof the next year, 1172, Henry himself came to Ireland, with 500 knightsand 4, 000 men-at-arms. The Irish princes felt that it was needful tosubmit to such power, nor was it with much reluctance on the part of thetoparchs, who had some pride in being under the sway of the mighty HenryFitzempress, rather than that of the petty chieftain of Meath. 

Henry professed not to come as a conqueror, but in consequence of thePope's grant, and soon received the submission of all the toparchs ofLeinster and Munster. Roderick O'Connor himself did not hold out, thoughhe would not come to the King, and only met Hugo de Lacy and WilliamFitz Adhelm on the Shannon, where he swore allegiance, but, as appearedafterward, with a mental reservation--Connaught he was willing to holdunder Henry, but Ireland he neither could nor did yield up. 

Henry invited all these new subjects of his to keep Christmas withhim at Dublin, where he entertained them in a temporary structure ofwicker-work, outside the gates; and after receiving their homage, hegave them a banquet of every kind of Norman delicacy, among which wereespecially noticed roasted cranes--a food hitherto held in abhorrence bythem, so that partaking of it was a sort of pledge that they were aboutto forsake their peculiar and barbarous habits. They are said to havebeen much impressed by the splendor of Henry's gold and jewels, the richrobes of his court, and the chivalrous exercises of the knights andnobles. Afterward he held a synod of the Irish clergy at Cashel, wherehe caused the bull of Adrian to be read, and regulations were made forthe Church, requiring the priests to catechize children and baptizethem, enforcing the payment of tithes, and the performance of Divineservice, as well as that corpses should receive Christian burial. Henryhad intended to subject Ireland to English law, but the danger in whichhe had been involved by the murder of Becket obliged him to return atEaster, before his arrangements were completed. The lands settled by theNormans around Dublin, which were called the English pale, were aloneunder English laws; besides five septs--the O'Neills, the O'Connors, theO'Briens, the O'Lachlans, and the MacMoroghs--all the rest were underthe Brehon, or Irish law; and an injury, or even murder done by anEnglishman on one of the Irish, was to be atoned for by a fine accordingto this code. 

Hugo de Lacy, [Footnote: The readers of "The Betrothed" will hererecognise a friend. ] constable of Chester, an old, experienced warrior, much trusted by the King, was made governor of Ireland with a grantof the county of Meath. Shortly after, Oraric, a chieftain of thatterritory, invited De Lacy to a conference on the hill of Tara, whithereach party was to come unarmed. The night before the meeting youngGriffith, the nephew of Maurice Fitzgerald, dreamt that he saw a herd ofwild boars rush upon his uncle and Hugo de Lacy, and tear them to pieceswith their tusks. Treating this dream as a warning, he chose seven tallmen of his own kindred, armed them well, and, leading them near theplace of conference, began to career about with them as if in chivalrousexercises, always watching the assembly on the hill. 

After a time Oraric retired a few steps from the rest, and made a sign, on which an Irishman came forward and gave him his weapons. He instantlyfell upon Hugo de Lacy, and would have cloven his skull, if theinterpreter had not thrown himself between, and saved his master, withthe loss of his own arm. Oraric's men sprung from their ambush, but atthe same moment the eight Fitzgeralds rushed to the rescue; the traitorfled, pursued by Griffith, who overtook him, thrust him through with alance, cut off his head, and sent it to King Henry. 

Hugo de Lacy kept tolerable order until the King recalled him in thetroubles occasioned by the rebellion of the young princes, when trustyfriends were scarce. Earl Strongbow became governor, and was at oncemore violent and less firm in the restraint of English and Irish. Hequarrelled with Raymond le Gros for presuming to gain the affectionsof his sister Basilia, and took from him the command, conferring it onHervé de Montmarais, a person much disliked. Raymond went home to Wales, to receive his inheritance, on his father's death; and the Irish, asold Campion's history says, rose "tagge and ragge;" headed by RoderickO'Connor. They be sieged Waterford and Dublin; and Strongbow, indistress, wrote to Raymond: "As soon as you read this, make all thehaste you can, bring all the help you can raise, and you shall have whatyou have so long desired. " No further summons was needed; and just asWaterford was on the point of being taken, and the wild Irish were aboutto massacre the English, Raymond, with twenty ships, sailed into theharbor, dispersed the Irish, relieved Dublin, and in his full armorwedded the Lady Basilia. The very next morning he pursued the Irish; hetook Limerick, and reduced Roderick to come to a final peace with theKing, to whom that prince sent messengers, disdaining to treat withStrongbow. 

Montmarais, being displaced, went in revenge to the King, and malignedRaymond, so that Henry empowered commissioners to inquire into hisconduct, and send him home. Just as he was departing, the O'Briens ofThomond broke out in insurrection, and besieged Limerick; the troopsrefused to march unless under Raymond, and the commissioners wereobliged to send him to chastise the rebels. He pushed his conquestsinto Desmond, and established his good fame. During his absence EarlStrongbow died, leaving, by Eva, one daughter named Isabel, who, beingof tender age, became the ward of the Crown. It is said that he also hada son by a former wife, and that this youth, being seized with a panicin a battle with the Irish, was afterward stricken through with a swordby his command, though given with streaming tears. He was buried atDublin, with an epitaph recording his cowardice. 

The friends of Montmarais were resolved to let no tidings of Strongbow'sdeath reach Raymond, that so they might first gain the ear of the King, and prevent him being made governor. They turned back all the servants, and intercepted all the letters sent to him with the news, till theywere outwitted by Lady Basilia. She wrote a letter to her husband, withno word of her brother, but full of household matters; among others, that she had lost the "master tooth which had been so long ailing, andshe sent it to him for a token. " The tooth was "tipped with gold andburnished featly, " but Raymond knew it was none of his lady's; andgathering her meaning, hurried home, and was made Protector of Irelandtill the King's pleasure should be known. Henry sent as governor WilliamFitz Adhelm, a selfish voluptuary, under whose command all went ill;and, indeed, the English rule never prospered except when in the handsof good old Hugo de Lacy, under whom "the priest kept his church, thesoldier his garrison, and the ploughman followed his plough. " But Henry, who was constantly tormented by jealousies of his Anglo-Irish nobles, was perpetually recalling him on suspicion, and then finding itnecessary to send him back again. He built many castles, and, whilefortifying that of Dernwath, was entreated by some of the Irish to allowthem to work for hire. Glad to encourage any commencement of industry, he took a pickaxe to show them how to work; when one of them, seizingthe moment when he bent forward to strike with it, cleft his head withan axe, and killed him on the spot. His less worthy nephew and namesakesucceeded to his Irish estates, and at times held the government. 

King Henry intended Ireland as the inheritance of his son John, andin 1185 wrote to request the Pope to grant him the investiture. Urbanreturned a favorable answer, and with it a crown of peacock's feathersset in gold--a more appropriate present than he intended for thefeather-pated prince, who was then sixteen years of age, and who, havingbeen knighted by his father, set off for Dublin, accompanied by a trainof youths of his own age, whom the steadier heads of the good knightPhilip Barry, and his clerkly relative Gerald, were unable to keep inorder. This Gerald Barry was the historian commonly known as GiraldusCambrensis, to whom we are chiefly indebted for the account of theconquest of Ireland. The Irish chiefs of Leinster flocked to pay theirrespects, but were most improperly received by John and his friends, whocould not restrain their mirth at their homely garb, and soon proceededto gibes and practical jokes; pricking them with pins, and rapping themon the head with a stick as they bent to pay homage, tweaking theirample mantles, and pulling their long beards and moustaches, all as ifthey had studied to enrage this proud and sensitive people. These werethe Irish of the friendly country; and when those of more distant andunsubdued regions heard what treatment they had met, they turned back, and soon broke out in insurrection. John and his gay companions did notstay to meet the storm they had raised, but hastily fled to England, andthe King wrote to Sir John de Courcy to take the government, and do hisbest to restore obedience. 

It is round this De Courcy that the interest of the Irish wars chieflycentres. [Footnote: This history of De Courcy is derived from an oldlife of him by an Irish priest, which is disputed by many historicalauthorities] In his youth, while serving the King in Normandy, he hadmade friends with Sir Almeric Tristrem, and, in true chivalrous style, the two knights plighted their faith in the Church of our Lady at Rouen, to be sworn brethren-in-arms, to live and die for each other, and todivide equally whatever they might gain in war. Their friendship wasnever broken till death, and their whole career was one of perfectchivalry. Almeric became the husband of his friend's sister, and inhonor of this closer alliance changed his surname to De St. Laurence, their wedding-day being the feast of that Saint. The twobrethren-in-arms came into Ireland with Henry in 1172, and De Courcyreceived a grant of Ulster, when he could conquer it. Sir Almeric atonce landed at Howth, and fought a bloody battle, in which he gained thevictory, but with the loss of seven of his kindred, and for that reasonHowth was made his portion, and long remained in his family. At thebattle of Daud, fought with Roderick O'Connor, the two friends, withseven hundred men, were again victorious, owing to a timely charge ofAlmeric's with his reserve of forty horse. The next midsummer anotherbattle took place, with the same result, though Sir Almeric was sosorely wounded that he was found lying, faint and bleeding, under ahedge, eating honeysuckles by way of cure, and his son Nicholas receivednine wounds, and was left for dead. These successes made the Irishsubmit, and De Courcy was acknowledged as their feudal chief. Heproceeded to build castles, and granted two of them to one MacMahon, whohad made every promise of fidelity. Within a month, De Courcy heard thatthe castles were pulled down, and, on his calling his refractory vassalto account, received a truly Irish answer: MacMahon said he had notpromised to hold stones, but land, and it was contrary to his nature tocouch within cold stones, when the warm woods were so nigh. 

De Courcy proceeded to foray his land, and was driving off a great herdof cattle, when a host of Irish set on him, and by their shouts sofrightened the cows, that they ran on the English, and more were killedby being trodden down by them than were slain by the Irish; and DeCourcy and De St. Laurence with difficulty collected the remnant in alittle fort. At night Almeric went out to survey the enemy, and reportedthat there were five thousand feasting and drinking at no great distance. If they should fall on the wearied, hungry, and wounded English the nextday, they would make them an easy prey, and he therefore advised anight-attack, to take them by surprise. The English sat silent, lookingat each other, til Sir John de Courcy spoke: "I looked all this whilefor some of these young gallants to deliver their courage; but, SirAlmeric, where are their horses bestowed?"

"Your white horse and my black, " said Sir Almeric, "I have cunninglyconveyed away, and the rest I can point out to you with my finger. "

"Then, " said Sir John, "let two men ride these two horses, gather theirhorses together, and drive them in on the enemy; then, all who can beararms shall follow, and we will serve them with their horses as they didus with our kine. "

The stratagem was completely successful; the Irish were entirely routedwith great slaughter, while the English lost only two--though thepreceding day had lost them four hundred men. 

By six battles, altogether, Sir John established his power, and he thenreceived from Henry the rank of Earl of Ulster. He governed Ireland fromthe time of Prince John's flight till the accession of Richard Coeur deLion, with great prosperity; and during this time Roderick O'Connor wasdethroned by his sons, and forced to retire to a convent, where he died. 

King Richard left the management of Irish affairs to his brother, whotook the government from De Courcy, and gave it to Hugo de Lacy, thenephew. He, comporting himself as a favorite, of John was likely todo, of course occasioned another war, and Cathal O'Connor, theBloody-handed, of Connaught, began to threaten Ulster. De Courcysummoned Almeric to his aid, and the good knight set out with twohundred foot and thirty horse; but, while passing through the enemy'scountry, he suddenly found himself beset by Cathal, at the head of anenormous host. The horsemen might easily have saved themselves by theirspeed; but though death was certain if he remained, this true knightwould not forsake the foot in their extremity. 

In Hanmer's affecting words, "Sir Almeric turned him to the footcompany, and hardly gathering breath with the sorrow of his heart, resolved himself thus: 'I have no power to fly, and leave my friends, myflesh and blood, in this extreme distress. I will live with them who formy sake came hither, if it so please God; or I will die with them, ifit be His pleasure, that, ending here, we shall meet again, bodies andsouls, at the last day. God and the world bear witness that we do asChristian knights ought to do. I yield my soul into God's hands; my bodyto return whence it came; my service to my natural prince; my heart tomy wife, and brother Sir John de Courcy; my might, my force, my bloodysweat, to the aid of you all that are in the field. ' He alighted, kneeled on his knees, kissed the cross of his sword, ran his horsethrough, saying, 'Thou shalt never serve against me, that so worthilyhast served with me. ' All the horses were then killed but two, on whichhe mounted two of the youngest of his followers, bidding them watch thefight from the next hill, then make all speed to bear his greetings tohis brother De Courcy, and report that day's service. "

When the Irish saw the devoted band so firmly awaiting their attack, they fancied that succor must be near, and did not venture their onsettill the whole country had been reconnoitred. Every Englishman wasslain, but one thousand Irish also fell, and the death of these bravemen was not in vain. Cathal was so impressed by their courage, that hesued for peace, and never ventured another pitched battle. He afterwardtold Sir Hugo de Lacy that he thought verily there never was the likeseen on earth; for, when the Englishmen could not stand, they setthemselves back to back, and fought on till the last man was slain. 

De Courcy long survived his faithful brother-in-arms, and stood so highin all men's estimation, that De Lacy in jealousy sent information toKing John, soon after the death of Arthur, that the Earl of Ulster wassowing disaffection by accusing him of his nephew's murder. This was thevery thing for which John had lately starved to death the Lady de Braoseand her children, and he sent orders to De Lacy to attack the person ofDe Courcy. Every means of open force failed, and De Lacy was reduced totamper with his servants, two of whom at length informed him that it wasvain to think of seizing their master when he had his armor on, ashe was of immense strength and skill, nor did he ever lay aside hisweapons, except on Good Friday, when he was wont to walk up and down thechurchyard of Downe, alone and unarmed. 

Accordingly, De Lacy sent a band of horsemen, who fell upon the betrayedknight. He caught up a wooden cross, and made brave resistance, and sodid his two nephews, sons of Sir Almeric, who were with him; but theyhad no weapon, and were both slain, while De Courcy was overpowered, andcarried a prisoner to London. The two traitors begged De Lacy to givethem passports to go to England; on which he gave them a sealed paper, on condition of their not opening it themselves, nor returning on painof death. Now, the paper set forth that they were traitors no betterthan Judas, and exhorted every true man to spit in their faces, anddrive them away. However, these letters were never delivered; for thewretched men were driven, by stress of weather, back on the coast ofIreland, and De Lacy had them hanged. 

De Courcy continued in captivity till one of the many disputes betweenJohn and Philippe Auguste was to be decided by the ordeal of battle. The most stalwart of all John's subjects was his prisoner, and heimmediately sent to release him from the Tower, offering him immenserewards if he would become his champion. The old knight answered thatKing John himself was not worthy to have one drop of blood shed for him;and as to rewards, he could never requite the wrongs he had done him, nor restore the heart's ease he had robbed him of. For John Lackland hewould never fight, nor for such as him, but for the honor of the Crown, and of England, he undertook the cause. The old warrior, wasted withimprisonment, was prepared by good feeding, and received his weapons:the Frenchman fled at once, and De Courcy prepared to return to Ireland. He made fifteen attempts to cross, and each time was forced to put back. At length, as old chronicles relate, he was warned in a dream to makethe trial no more: for, said the voice, "Thou hast done ill: thou hastpulled down the master, and set up the servant. "

This was thought to refer to his having newly dedicated the cathedral ofDowne in the name of St. Patrick, whereas before it had been the Churchof the Holy Trinity. He took blame to himself, submitted, and going toFrance, there died at an advanced age. For his championship, the rightof wearing the head covered in the presence of royalty was granted tohim and his heirs, and it is still the privilege of his descendants, theEarls of Kinsale;

 "For when every head is unbonneted They walk in cap and plume. "

 CAMEO XXIII. 

 THE REBELLIOUS EAGLETS. (1149-1189. )

 _King of England_. 1154. Henry II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1165. William. 

 _Kings of France_. 1137. Louis VII. 1180. Philippe II. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1152. Friedrich I. 

 _Popes of Rome_. 1154. Adrian IV. 1159. Alexander III. 1181. Lucius III. 1185. Urban III. 1187. Gregory VIII. 

"The gods are just, and of our pleasant sins make whips to scourge us. "This saying tells the history of the reign of Henry of the Court Mantle. 

Ambition and ill faith were the crimes of Henry from his youth upward, and he was a man of sufficiently warm affections to suffer severely fromthe retribution they brought on him, when, through his children, theyrecoiled upon his head. "When once he loveth, scarcely will he everhate; when once he hateth, scarcely ever receiveth he into grace, " waswritten of him by his tutor, Peter of Blois, and his life proved that itwas a true estimate of his character. 

The root of his misfortunes may be traced to his ambitious marriage withEleanor of Aquitaine, twelve years older than himself, and divorced byLouis VII. Of France on account of her flagrant misconduct in Palestine, in the course of the miserable expedition called the Second Crusade. Forher broad lands, he deserted the woman whom he loved, and who had lefther home and duty for his sake, and on his promise of marriage. 

Fair Rosamond Clifford was the daughter of a Herefordshire baron, withwhom Henry became acquainted in his seventeenth year, when he came toEngland, in 1149, to dispute the crown with Stephen. He lodged her atWoodstock, in the tower built, according to ballad lore, "most curiouslyof stone and timber strong, " and with such a labyrinth leading to itthat "none, but with a clue of thread, could enter in or out. " ThereRosamond remained while he returned to France to receive Normandy andAnjou, on the death of his father, and on going to pay homage to LouisVII. , ingratiated himself with Queen Eleanor, whose divorce was thenimpending. Eleanor and her sister Petronella were joint heiresses of thegreat duchy of Aquitaine, their father having died on pilgrimage to theshrine of Santiago de Compostella, and the desire of the fairest andwealthiest provinces of the south of France led the young prince toforget his ties to Rosamond and her infant son William, and never takeinto consideration what the woman must be of whom her present husbandwas resolved to rid himself at the risk of seeing half his kingdom inthe hands of his most formidable enemy. 

For some time Rosamond seems to have been kept in ignorance of Henry'sunfaithfulness; but in 1152, the year of his coronation, and of thebirth of her second child, Geoffrey, she quitted Woodstock, and retiredinto the nunnery of Godstow, which the King richly endowed. It has beenone of the favorite legends of English history, that the Queen tracedher out in her retreat by a ball of silk that had entangled itself inHenry's spurs, and that she offered her the choice of death by thedagger or by poison; but this tale has been refuted by sober proof;there is no reason to believe that Eleanor was a murderess; and it iscertain that Rosamond, on learning how she had been deceived, tookrefuge in the nunnery, where she ended her days twenty years after, inpenitence and peace, far happier than her betrayer. Her sons, Williamand Geoffrey, were honorably brought up, and her remains were placed inthe choir, under a silken canopy, with tapers burning round, while theSisters of the convent prayed for mercy on her soul and King Henry's. Even King John paid the costs of this supposed expiation; but St. Hugh, Bishop of Lincoln, not thinking it well that her history should bebefore the minds of the nuns, ordered the corpse to be interred in theordinary burial-place of the convent. 

During most of these twenty years of Rosamond's repentance, allapparently prospered with Henry. The rigorous justice administered byhis excellent chancellor, Ranulf de Glanville, had restored order toEngland; the only man bold enough to gainsay him had been driven fromthe kingdom. Ireland was in course of conquest, and his astute policywas continually overreaching the simple-minded Louis VI. , who, havingderived the surname of _le jeune_ from his age at his accession, was soboyish a character all his life as never to lose it. 

Four sons and three daughters were born to Henry and Eleanor, and intheir infancy he arranged such alliances as might obtain a still widerpower for them--nay, even the kingdom of France. Louis VI. Had marriedagain, but his second wife died, leaving two infant girls, namedMargaret and Alice, and to them Henry betrothed his two eldest sons, Henry and Richard. It was to ask the hand of Margaret for the princethat Becket took his celebrated journey to Paris, and the young pair, Henry and Margaret, were committed to his care for education; but thedisputes with the King prevented their being sufficiently long in hishands for the correction of the evil spirit of the Angevin princes. 

By threats of war, Henry obtained for Geoffrey, his third son, Constance, the only child of Conan, Duke of Brittany; though theBretons, who hated Normans, Angevins, and English with equal bitterness, were extremely angry at finding themselves thus connected with allthree. On Conan's death, Geoffrey, then ten years old, was called Dukeof Brittany, but his father took the whole government into his hands, and made it a heavy yoke. 

John, Count of Mortagne, for whom no heiress had been obtained, wasgayly called by his father Lackland--a name which his after-life fittedto him but too well. Richard was intended to be the inheritor of hismother's beautiful duchy of Aquitaine, where he spent most of his earlyyears. It was a strange country, where the ordinary events of lifepartook so much of romance that we can hardly believe them real. 

It had never been so peopled by the Franks as to lose either thelanguage or the cultivation left by the Romans. The _langue d'oc_ hadmuch resemblance to the Latin, and was beautifully soft and adapted topoetry; and when the nobles adopted chivalry, they ornamented it withall the graces of their superior education. The talent of improvisingverses was common among them; and to be a minstrel, or, as they calledit, a troubadour (a finder of verses), was essential to the character ofa complete gentleman. 

Courts of beauty and love took place, where arguments were held on casesof allegiance of a knight to his lady-love, and competitions in poetry, in which the reward was a golden violet. Each troubadour thought itneedful to be dedicated to the service of some lady, in whose honor allhis exploits in arms or achievements in minstrelsy were performed. Towhat an extravagant length this devotion was carried, is shown in thestory of Jauffred Rudel, Lord of Blieux, who, having heard from someCrusaders a glowing account of the beauty and courtesy of the Countessof Tripoli, on their report made her the object of his affections, andwrote poem after poem upon her, of which one has come down to our times:

 "No other love shall e'er be mine, None save my love so far away; For one more fair I'll never know, In region near, or far away. "

Thus his last verse may be translated, and his "_amour luench_, " or lovefar away, occurs in every other line. He embarked for Palestine for thesole purpose of seeing his _amour luench_, but fell sick on the voyage, and was speechless when he arrived. The countess, hearing to what acondition his admiration had brought him, came on board the vessel tosee him; the sight of her so charmed him, that he was able to say a fewwords to her before he expired. She caused him to be buried withgreat splendor, and erected a porphyry tomb over him, with an Arabicinscription. 

The romance of the Languedoçians was unhappily not accompanied by purityof manners, and much of Queen Eleanor's misconduct may be ascribed tothe tone prevalent in her native duchy, to which she was much attached. Her brave son, Richard, growing up in this land of minstrelsy, becamea thorough troubadour, and loved no portion of his father's domainsas well as the sunny south; and his two brothers, Henry and Geoffrey, likewise fell much under the influence of the poetical knights ofAquitaine, especially Bertrand de Born, Viscount de Hautefort, anaccomplished noble, who was the intimate friend of all the princes. 

The King's first disappointment was when, at length, a son was born toLouis VI. , who had hitherto, to use his own words, "been afflictedwith a multitude of daughters. " This son of his old age was christened"Philippe _Dieu donné_, " and the servant who brought the welcome tidingsof his birth was rewarded with a grant of three measures of wheat yearlyfrom the royal farm of Gonesse. Soon after, Louis dreamt that he sawhis son holding a goblet of blood in his hand, from which his valor waspredicted, and he did indeed seem born to visit the offences of thePlantagenets on their own heads. Even while quite a child, when presentat a conference between the two kings under the Elm of Gisors, he wasshrewd enough to perceive that Henry was unjustly overreaching hisfather, and surprised all present by exclaiming, "Sir, you do my fatherwrong. I perceive that you always gain the advantage over him. I cannothinder you now, but I give you notice that, when I am grown up, I willtake back all of which you now deprive us. " And, by fair means and foul, he kept his word. 

Next Henry began to find that the Church would not allow him to remainin peace while he kept the Archbishop in exile, and the dread ofexcommunication caused him to obviate the danger of his subjects beingreleased from their oaths of allegiance, by causing his eldest son tobe crowned, and receive their homage. The Princess Margaret was inAquitaine with Queen Eleanor; and when she found that the rights of herformer tutor, Becket, were neglected, and the ceremony to be performedby the Archbishop of York, she refused to come to England, and herhusband was crowned alone. It was then that his father carved at hisbanquet, and he made the arrogant speech respecting the son of a countand the son of a king. 

That year was marked by the murder of the Archbishop, and soon after thestorm began to burst. Young Henry, now nineteen years of age, went withhis wife to pay a visit to her father at Paris, and returned full ofdiscontent, complaining that he was a king only in name, since he hadnot even a house to himself, and insisting on his father's giving up tohim at once either England, Normandy, or Anjou. 

His complaints were echoed by Richard and Geoffrey, who were with theirmother in Aquitaine. Richard had received investiture of the county ofPoitiers, but the entire authority was in the hands of Castellanes, appointed by his father, and the proud natives were stirring up theyoung prince to shake off the bondage in which he, like them, was held. Geoffrey, though only fifteen, thought himself aggrieved by not havingyet received his wife's duchy of Brittany, and positively refused to payhomage for it to his eldest brother, when newly crowned to repair theirregularity of his first coronation, and for this opposition thehigh-spirited Bretons forgave his Angevin blood, and looked on him astheir champion. The boys' discontents were aggravated by their mother, and the state of feeling was so well known in the South, that whenHenry and his eldest son came to Limoges to receive the homage of CountRaymond of Toulouse, that noble, on coming to the part of the oath offealty where he was engaged to counsel his lord against his enemies, added, "I should warn you to secure your castles of Poitou andAquitaine, and to mistrust your wife and sons. "

Henry, who was aware of the danger, under pretext of hunting, visitedhis principal fortresses, and, to guard against the evil designs of hisson Henry, caused him to sleep in his own bedroom. At Chinon, however, the youth contrived to elude his vigilance, stole away, and escaped toParis, where he was received in a manner that reflects great discrediton the French monarch. 

When the elder Henry sent to Paris to desire the restoration of thefugitive, the messengers found him royally robed, and seated by the sideof the French King, who received them, asking from whom they came. 

"From Henry, King of England, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Count ofAnjou and Maine. "

"That is not true. Here sits Henry, King of England, who has no messageto send me by you. But if you mean his father, the late King of England, he has been dead ever since his son has worn the crown; and if he stillpretends to be a king, I will soon find a cure. "

Young Henry adopted a great seal, and wrote letters to the Pope, hismother, and brothers, exciting them against his father, and puttingforth a manifesto declaring that he could not leave unpunished the deathof "his foster-father, the glorious martyr St. Thomas of Canterbury, whose blood was crying out for vengeance. "

On receiving these letters, Richard and Geoffrey hurried to meet himat Paris, and Queen Eleanor was following in male attire, when she wasseized and made prisoner. Louis caused the two boys to swear that theywould never conclude a peace with their father without his consent, andthey were joined by great numbers of the Norman and Poitevin nobility, even from among the King's immediate attendants. Each morning some onewas missed from his court, and known to be gone over to the enemy, butstill Henry outwardly kept up his spirits, conversed gaily, and huntedas usual. 

Only once did he give way. Geoffrey, the son of Rosamond, wasdevotedly attached to him, and had at his own expense raised an army ofBrabançons, or mercenary soldiers, and defeated an inroad of the Scots, and he now brought his victorious force to the aid of his father. Rosamond was just dead in her nunnery, and at his first meeting with herson, Henry embraced him with tears, exclaiming, "Thou art my true andlawful son!" The bishopric of Lincoln was destined to Geoffrey, but hewas only twenty, and was unwilling to take orders, thinking himselfbetter able to help his father as a layman. 

The Brabançons were the only troops on whom the King could rely, andwith them he marched against the Bretons, who had been encouraged byLouis and their young Duke to rebel. They were defeated, and Louis, notwishing to run further risks, brought the three youths to the Elm ofGisors, and held a conference with them, where Henry showed himself farmore ready to forgive than his sons to ask pardon. 

Afterward young Henry and Geoffrey returned to Paris, and Richard toPoitou, whence he soon came to the French court, to receive the orderof knighthood from Louis--another insult to his father. The two queens, Eleanor and Margaret, were in the old King's hands, and kept in closecaptivity; the younger, who seems to have been a gentle and innocentlady, was soon allowed to join her husband, but Eleanor was retainedin confinement at Winchester. As long as his mother, whom he tenderlyloved, was imprisoned, Richard thought his resistance justified, andAquitaine echoed with laments for the Lady of the South in the dungeonof her cruel husband. Bertrand de Born, who had chosen her daughterEleanor, Queen of Castile, as the object of his songs, was especiallyardent in his lamentations. 

The elder King's grief at the continued misconduct of his sons led himto humble himself at the tomb of Becket, and the penance he underwentbrought on a fever. He thought, however, that he had received a token ofpardon, when news was brought that his faithful son Geoffrey of Lincoln, and his chancellor, Ranulf de Glanville, had defeated the King of Scots, William the Lion, and made him prisoner at Prudhoe Castle. But KingHenry had far more to suffer!

His eldest son was invading Normandy, and he was forced to march againsthim. After a battle at Rouen, the princes were reduced to obedience;Richard was the last of all to be reconciled, believing, as he did, thathis cause was his mother's, but he kept his oaths better than either ofthe others. 

A time of greater quiet succeeded, during which young Henry set out asa knight-errant, going from one country to another in search ofopportunities of performing deeds of arms. He came, in 1180, to attendthe coronation of young Philippe II. , who had just succeeded his father, in his fifteenth year, and had, or pretended to have, a great friendshipfor Geoffrey of Brittany. 

Richard had in the meantime affronted Bertrand de Born, by assisting hisbrother Constantine, whom he had deprived of his inheritance. Bertrandrebelled with other Poitevins, proceeded to lash up, by verses, youngHenry, to join them against Richard, rousing him to be no more a mereking of cowards, who had no lands, and never would have any. 

Henry was worked upon to go to his father, and insist on receivingRichard's homage; and as he threatened to take the Cross and go toPalestine, the old King, who doted on him, consented. Richard declaredthis would be giving up the rights of his mother; and though heconsented, at his father's entreaty, for the sake of peace, Henry wasnow affronted, would not receive it, and, with Geoffrey, placed himselfat the head of the rebels of Poitou, and a fresh war broke out, andtheir father was obliged to come to Richard's aid. It seems to have beenabout this time that the unhappy King caused a picture to be paintedof four eaglets tearing their father's breast. "It is an emblem of mychildren, " he said. "If John has not yet acted like his brethren, it isonly because he is not yet old enough!"

Henry and Geoffrey invited their father to a conference in Limoges, which he was besieging; but as he entered the town, a flight of arrowswas discharged from the battlements, some of which rattled against hisarmor, and one pierced his horse's neck. The King held one of them up, saying, "Ah, Geoffrey! what has thine unhappy father done that thoushouldest make him a mark for thine arrows?"

Geoffrey treated the matter lightly. His brother was, however, so muchshocked, that for a little while he joined his father, swearing he wouldnever again rebel. 

Only a few days had passed, before, on some trifling dispute, he againquitted his father, and, vowing he would take the Cross, joined Geoffreyand the rebel Poitevins. But this was indeed his last rebellion. He hadscarcely entered the town of Limoges, before a violent fever came on, and in terror of death he sent to entreat his father to come and givehis blessing and forgiveness. It was too late. After that last treason, the King could not trust himself in the rebel camp, and only sent theArchbishop of Bordeaux to carry his signet ring, and assure his son ofhis pardon. He found the unhappy young man in the agonies of death, lying on a bed of ashes, accusing himself of having been a "wicked, undutiful son, and bitterly disappointed at not seeing his father, toreceive the blessing he had once cast from him, and which in vain henow sought earnestly and with tears. " He died, fervently pressing thering to his lips. Surely his remorse might have served for a warning tohis brothers; but when the sorrowful father sent a priest to entreatGeoffrey to make peace over his grave, the fierce youth only answeredthat it was vain. "Our grandmother, the Witch, has left us a doom thatnone of us shall ever love the rest. It is our heirloom, and the onlyone of which we can never be deprived!"

However, Limoges was taken, and in it Bertrand de Born, who was ledbefore the King to receive the punishment he deserved, and there hestood silent and dejected. "Hast thou nothing to say for thyself?" saidthe King. "Where is all thy ready flow of fine words? I think thou hastlost thy wits!"

"Ah, sire!" said Bertrand, "I lost them the day the brave young Kingdied!"

The father burst into tears, and exclaimed, "Sir Bertrand, thou mightestwell lose thy senses with grief for my son. He loved thee more than anyman on earth; and I, for love of him, give thee back thy castles andlands. "

Geoffrey still held aloof, and spent his time with his friend Philippeof France. At Paris, in 1186, he who called hatred his inheritance, andspurned his father's forgiveness, died without space for asking it, leaving, indeed, his chosen heirloom to his innocent children. He wasin his twenty-fifth year, and the handsomest and the most expert inchivalrous exercises of all his brothers; but in the midst of a greattournament he was thrown from his horse, and trampled to death in thethrong before his squires could extricate him. 

Richard, the second son, inheriting the "lyonnous visage" that Peter deBlois ascribes to King Henry, and with it the Lion-heart, that gainedhim his surname, had far more feeling and generosity than his brothers, and, but for King Henry's own crimes, he might have been his blessingand glory. When Henry had provoked him, by desiring him, as being nowheir of Normandy and England, to yield up Poitou to his brother John, Richard had refused; but on the King bringing his mother to Aquitaine, and reinstating her in her duchy, he instantly laid down his arms, joyfully came to her, and continued perfectly peaceable and dutifulwhilst she still held her rights. 

But after all these warnings, Henry was sinning grievously against hiswife and son. Richard had been, in his infancy, betrothed to Alice ofFrance, who had been placed in his father's keeping; but he had reachedhis twenty-seventh year without having been allowed to see her, andthere was but too much reason to believe that the old King had wickedlybetrayed his trust, and corrupted her innocence. Richard had, in themeantime, become attached to a modest, gentle maiden, Berengaria, sisterto King Sancho of Navarre, and was anxious to know on what ground hestood with Alice; but the consequence of his first demonstration was, that Henry sent Eleanor back to her prison at Winchester. 

This broke the tie that held him to obedience, and he went to Paristo consult with Philippe, Alice's brother, on the best measures forbreaking off his unfortunate engagement, as well as on securing thesuccession to the crown, which he suspected his father of wishing toleave to his brother John. Philippe received him most affectionately; sothat it is said they shared the same cup, the same plate, and the samebed. 

Just at this time, Archbishop William of Tyre came to preach a newCrusade, and the description of the miseries of the Christians inPalestine so affected the two kings and Richard, that they took theCross, and agreed to lay aside their disputes, to unite in the rescue ofJerusalem. However, the concord did not last long; Richard quarrelledwith the Count of Toulouse, and a petty war took place, which the kingsagreed to conclude by a conference, as usual, under the Elm of Gisors. This noble tree had so large a trunk, that the arms of four men couldnot together encircle it; the branches had, partly by Nature, partlyby art, been made to bend downward, so as to form a sort of bower, andthere were seats on the smooth extent of grass which they shaded. KingHenry first arrived at this pleasant spot, and his train stretchedthemselves on the lawn, rejoicing in being thus sheltered from theburning heat of the summer sun; and when the French came up, laughed atthem, left beyond the shade, to be broiled in the sunbeams. This gaveoffence, a sharp skirmish took place, the English drew off to Vernon, and Philippe, mindful of the indignation he had felt in his boyhoodunder that tree, swore that no more parleys should be held under it, and his knights hewed it down with their battle-axes. 

The war continued, and Richard fought gallantly on his father's side;but as winter drew on, it was resolved that a meeting should be heldat Bonmoulins to re-establish peace. Richard thought this a fitopportunity, in the presence of Alice's brother, for endeavoring to havehis rights confirmed, and to clear up the miserable question of hisbetrothal. In the midst of the meeting he called on his father topromise him, in the presence of the King of France, that he would nolonger delay his marriage, and declaration as his heir. 

Henry prevaricated, and talked of bestowing Alice on John. 

"This, " cried Richard, "forces me to believe what I would fain havethought impossible! Comrades, you shall see a sight you did not expect. "

And ungirding his sword, he knelt down before Philippe, and did homageto him, asking his assistance to re-establish his rights. Henrywithdrew, followed by a very small number of knights. They mostly heldwith the young prince, won by his brilliant talents, great courage, andliberal manners; and the King found the grief renewed that his sonHenry had caused him, while he himself, aged by cares rather thanyears, was less able to cope with them: moreover, Richard was far moreformidable than his elder brother; Philippe a more subtle enemy thanLouis; and above all, the King's own faults were the immediate causeof the rebellion. He took no active measures; he only caused hiscastellanes in Normandy to swear that they would yield their keys up tono one but to Prince John, on whom he had concentrated his affections. He awaited the coming of the Cardinal of Anagni, who was sent by thePope to pacify these Crusaders, and remind them of their vows. 

Again the parties met, and the legate, with four archbishops, began tospeak of peace. 

"I consent, " said Philippe, "for the love of Heaven and of the HolySepulchre, to restore to King Henry what I have taken from him, providedhe will immediately wed my sister Alice to his son Richard, and secureto him the succession of the crown, I also demand that his son Johnshould go to Palestine with his brother, or he will disturb the peace ofthe kingdom. "

"That he will!" exclaimed Richard. 

"No, " said Henry; "this is more than I can grant. Let your sister marryJohn; let me dispose of my own kingdom. "

"Then the truce is broken, " answered the French King. The Cardinalinterfered, threatening to lay France under an interdict, andexcommunicate Philippe and Richard if they would not consent to Henry'sconditions. Their answers were characteristic. 

"I do not fear your curses, " said Philippe. "You have no right, topronounce them on the realm of France. Your words smell of Englishsterlings. "

"I'll kill the madman who dares to excommunicate two royal princes inone breath!" cried Coeur de Lion, drawing his sword; but his friendsthrew themselves between, and the Cardinal escaped, mounted his mule, and rode off in haste. 

The French took Mans, and pillaged it cruelly, while Richard looked onin shame and grief at the desolation of his own inheritance. His father, weak and unwell, resolved to make peace, and for the last time appointeda meeting with Philippe on the plain between Tours and Amboise. There itwas arranged that Richard should be acknowledged as heir, and Alice putinto the hands of the Archbishop either of Canterbury or Rouen, as heshould prefer, until he should return from the Crusade. The conferencewas interrupted by a vivid flash of lightning and a tremendous burst ofthunder. To the evil conscience of the elder King it was the voice ofavenging Heaven: he reeled in his saddle, and his attendants were forcedto support him in their arms and carry him away. He travelled in alitter to Chinon, where his first son had deserted him, and there, while he lay dangerously ill, the treaty was sent to him to receive hissignature, and the conditions read over to him. By one of them, thosewho had engaged in Richard's party were to transfer their allegiance tohim. 

"Who are they--the ungrateful traitors?" he asked. "Let me hear theirnames. "

His secretary began the list: "John, Count of Mortagne. "

"John!"--and the miserable father started up in his bed. "John! Itcannot be true!--my heart, my beloved son! He whom I cherished beyondthe rest--he for whose sake I have suffered all this--can he also havedeserted me?" He was told it was too true. "Well, " said he, falling backon his bed, and turning his face from the light, "let the rest go as itwill! I care not what becomes of me, or of the world!"

He was roused in a few moments by the entrance of Richard, come, as amatter of form, to ratify the treaty by the kiss of peace. The King, without speaking, gave it with rigid sternness of countenance; butRichard, as he turned away, heard him mutter, "May I but live to berevenged on thee!" and when he was gone, the King burst out into suchhorrible imprecations against his two sons, that the faithful Geoffreyof Lincoln and the clergy of Canterbury, who attended him, were shocked, and one of the monks reminded him that such hasty words had occasionedthe death of Becket. But he gnashed his teeth at them with fury. "I havebeen and I am your lord, traitors that ye are!" he cried. "Away withyou! I'll have none but trusty ones here. "

The monks left him; but one, turning round, said boldly, "If the lifeand sufferings of the martyr Thomas were acceptable with God. He will doprompt justice on thy body. "

The King threw himself out of bed, with his dagger in his hand; but wascarried back again, and continued to rave, though growing weaker. Inan interval of calm he was taken into the church, and absolution waspronounced over him; but no persuasion would induce him to revoke hiscurses against his sons: the delirium returned, and the last words thatwere heard from his dying lips were, "Shame, shame on a conquered King!Cursed be the day I was born! Cursed be the sons I leave!"

In his fifty-fifth year he thus miserably expired, and his son Geoffreyof Lincoln with difficulty found any one to attend to his funeral; theattendants had all fled away, with everything valuable that they couldlay their hands on. A piece of gold fringe was made to serve for acrown, and an old sceptre and ring were brought from the treasuryat Chinon; horses were hired, and the corpse was carried, as he haddesired, to be interred in the beautiful Abbey of Fontevraud. In themidst of the service a hurried step was heard. It was Richard, who, while laughing with his false friend Philippe over his ungraciousreception at Chinon, had been horror-struck by the news that his fatherwas dead, and that there was no more forgiveness to be looked for. 

He had hastily left the French, and now stood beside the coffin, lookingat the fine but worn and prematurely aged face, which bore the stampof rage and agony. A drop of blood oozed from the nostril--a token, according to the belief of those times, that the murderer was present. Richard hid his face in his hands in the misery of remorse, and groanedaloud, "Yes, it was I who killed him. " He threw himself on his kneesbefore the altar, so remained "about as long as it would take to say a_Pater_" and then, rising up in silence, dashed out of the church. 

Ten years later, his corpse was, by his own desire, laid in humility athis father's feet. 

 CAMEO XXIV. 

 THE THIRD CRUSADE. (1189-1193)

 _King of England_. 1189. Richard I. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1165. William. 

 _King of France_. 1180. Philippe II. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1152. Friedrich I. 1191. Henry VI. 

 _Popes_. 1183. Clement III 1191. Celestine III

The vices of the Christians of Palestine brought their punishment. Sybilla of Anjou, Queen of Jerusalem, had married the handsome butfeeble-minded Guy de Lusignan, who was no match for the Kurdishchieftain, Joseph Salah-ed-deen, usually called Saladin, who had risen tothe supreme power in Egypt and Damascus. The battle of Tiberias ruinedthe kingdom, and the fall of Jerusalem followed in a few weeks, fillingChristendom with grief. 

The archbishop and historian, William of Tyre, preached a Crusade inEurope, and among the first to take the Cross were the Plantagenetprinces and Philippe Auguste of France. 

The unhappy discord between Henry II. And Coeur de Lion hindered theenterprise until the death of the father, which left the son a prey tothe bitterest remorse; and in the hope to expiate his crimes, he hurriedon the preparations with all the vehemence of his impetuous nature. 

He hastened his coronation, and began to raise money by the mostunscrupulous means, declaring he would even have sold London itselfcould he have found a bidder. He made his half-brother, Geoffrey, pay£3, 000 for the possession of the temporalities of the see of York, andsold the earldom of Northumberland to the aged Bishop of Durham, HughPudsey, saying, laughing, that it had been a clever stroke to make ayoung earl of an old bishop. William the Lion of Scotland was alsoallowed to purchase exemption from his engagements to Henry II. , by thepayment of a large sum of money and the supply of a body of troops underthe command of his brother David, Earl of Huntingdon. 

These arrangements made, Richard marched to meet Philippe Auguste atVezelai, and agree on the regulations for the discipline of theirhost. If rules could have kept men in order, these were strict enough, forbidding all gaming, all foul language, all disputing, and allapproach to licence, and ordering all acquisitions to be equallydivided; but with a prince whose violent temper broke through allrestraint, there was little hope of their observance. The English worewhite crosses, the French red, the Flemings green, to distinguish thedifferent nations. 

They marched together to Lyons, whence Philippe proceeded across theAlps to embark at Genoa in the vessels he had hired, and Richard went toMarseilles, where his own fleet was appointed to meet him and transporthim to Messina, the place where the whole crusading army was to winter. He waited for his ships till his patience failed, and, hiring thosewhich he found in the harbor, he sailed to Pisa, whence he rode toSalerno, and there learning that his fleet had touched at Marseilles, and arrived at Messina, he set out for the coast, attended by only oneknight. On the way he saw a fine hawk, kept at a cottage in a smallvillage, and forgetting that there were no such forest laws as in hisown domains, he was enraged to see the bird in the keeping of mean"_villeins_" seized upon it, and bore it off on his wrist. This was notreatment for Italian peasants, who, in general, were members of small, self-ruling republics, and they swarmed out of their houses to recoverthe bird. One man attacked the King with a long knife, and thoughRichard beat him off with the flat of his sword, the assault with sticksand stones was severe enough to drive the King off the field, and forcehim to ride at full speed to a convent. 

He thence went to Bagnata, where he found his own ship _Trenc-la-Mer_awaiting him. In full state he sailed into the harbor of Messina at thehead of his fleet, streamers flying from the masts, and music playingupon the decks. He was received by the King of Sicily, Tancred, Count ofLecce, who without much right had assumed the crown on the recent deathof William the Good, the last of the direct Norman line. 

This William, had been married to Joan Plantagenet, Richard's youngestsister, who now came to join him, making complaints that Tancred waswithholding from her the treasures bequeathed to her by her husband; andthese were indeed of noted value, for she specified among them a goldentable twelve feet long, and a tent of silk large enough to contain twohundred knights. 

Tancred, who had lodged his royal guests, the one in a palace within thetown, the other in a pleasant house among the vineyards, was confoundedat these claims, and on his declaring that he had duly paid the Queen'sdowry, Richard seized upon two of his castles, and, on a slight quarrelwith the inhabitants, upon the city of Messina itself. 

Philippe Auguste interfered, not on behalf of the unfortunate Sicilian, but to obtain a share of the spoil; requiring that the French standardshould be placed beside the English one on the walls, and that half theplunder should be his. It was, however, agreed that the keeping of thecity should be committed to the Knights Templars until the three kingsshould come to an agreement. 

It was at this time that Richard again showed his violent nature. Apeasant happening to pass with an ass loaded with long reeds, or canes, the knights began in sport to tilt at each other with them, and Richardwas thus opposed to a certain Guillaume des Barres, who had once placedhim in great danger in a battle in Normandy. Both reeds were broken, andRichard's mantle was torn; his jest turned to earnest, and he dashed hishorse against Des Barres, meaning to throw him from the saddle; but heswerved aside, and the King's horse stumbled, and fell. He took another, and returned to the charge, but in vain; however, when the Earl ofLeicester was coming to his aid, he ordered him off. "It is between himand me alone, " he said. At length repeated failures so inflamed hisanger, that he shouted, "Away with thee! Never dare appear in mypresence again! I am a mortal foe to thee and thine!" and it was only onthe threat of excommunication that he could be prevailed on to consentto the knight remaining with the army. 

In March, a meeting took place between the Kings of England and Sicily, in which Tancred agreed to pay Richard and his sister 20, 000 ounces ofgold; and Richard remitted his share as a portion for Tancred's infantdaughter, whom he asked in marriage for his nephew, Arthur of Brittany. The two Kings were much pleased with each other, and an exchange ofpresents was made. 

Tancred disclosed that the French monarch had falsely sent him a warningthat it was useless to trust the King of England, who only intended tobreak his treaties; and when Richard refused to believe that his formerfriend would so slander him, showed him the very letters in whichPhilippe offered to assist in expelling him from the island. 

Unwisely, Richard called his rival to account for his treachery; onwhich Philippe retorted with the old engagement to his sister Alice, declaring that this was only an excuse, for casting her off. Richardanswered, that her conduct made no excuse necessary for not marryingher, and proved it so entirely, that Philippe was glad to hush thematter up, and rest satisfied with a promise that she should be restoredto her own count with a sufficient pension. 

It was time indeed for Richard to be free from his bonds to Alice, forhe had already sent his mother to conduct to him his own chosen andlong-loved lady, Berengaria of Navarre, a gentle, delicate, fair-haired, retiring maiden, to whom he had devoted his Lion-heart in his days ofpoetry and song in his beloved Aquitaine, and who was now willing toshare the toils and perils of his crusade. 

She arrived on the 29th of March; but the season of Lent prevented thecelebration of their wedding, and Queen Eleanor, placing her under thecharge of Joan, the widowed Queen of Sicily, returned to England towatch over her son's interests there. The next day the fleet set sail, Richard in his royal vessel, the ladies in another called the Lion; buta tempest arose and scattered the ships, and though a lantern was hungfrom the mast of _Trenc-la-Mer_ as a guide to the others, she was almostalone when she put into the harbor of Rhodes. 

The King had suffered so much from sea-sickness, that he was forced toremain there ten days, in much anxiety, and there his vessels graduallyjoined him, and he heard tidings of the rest. Philippe Auguste, with sixvessels, was safe at Acre, and the Lion had been driven to the coastof Cyprus. Isaac Comnenus, a Greek, who called himself Emperor ofthe island, had behaved with great discourtesy, forbidding the poorprincesses to land, and maltreating the crews of the vessels that hadbeen cast ashore. 

All Coeur de Lion's chivalry was on fire at this insult to his bride. Hesailed at once to Cyprus, made a rapid conquest of the whole island, and took prisoners both the Emperor and his daughter. The only requestComnenus made was, that he might not be put into iron chains; and he wasgratified by wearing silver ones, until his death, four years after. Hisdaughter became an attendant on Berengaria, and as the feast of Easterhad now arrived, Richard no longer deferred his marriage, which wascelebrated in the church of Limasol by the Bishop of Evreux. It iscertainly one of the strangest stories in our history, that one of ourKings should have been married in that distant isle of Cyprus, afterconquering it, as a sort of episode in his crusade. 

It was a victory not without great benefit to the Crusaders, for theisland was extremely fertile, and Richard appointed a knight, namedRobert de Turnham, to send constant supplies of provisions to the armyin the Holy Land; after which he set sail. 

Guy de Lusignan had already laid siege to St. Jean d'Acre, or Ptolemais, a city on the bay formed by the projection of the promontory of MountCarmel, admirably adapted as a stronghold, in which succor from Europemight be received. Leopold of Austria brought the first instalment ofCrusaders; next followed Philippe of France; but the increase of thenumber of besiegers only caused famine, until the conquest of Cyprusinsured supplies. Richard had sailed first for Tyre; but Conrade, Marquis of Montferrat, Prince of Tyre, who was related to the Comneni, had given orders that he should be excluded from the city; and hecontinued his course to Acre, capturing, on his way, a large galleyfilled with troops and provisions sent from Egypt to the relief of thebesieged. 

On his arrival, Richard at once resigned to Philippe half the booty, whereupon the French King claimed half the island of Cyprus: this Coeurde Lion replied he might have, if he was willing likewise to divide thecounty of Flanders, which had just fallen to his wife by the death ofher brother. The siege was pressed on with the greatest ardor on thearrival of the English, and Philippe was extremely jealous of thereputation acquired by the brilliant deeds of daring in which Richarddelighted, while he himself was left completely in the shade. Cool, wary, and prudent, he contemned the boisterous manners, animal strength, and passionate nature of his rival, and nothing could be more gallingthan to find himself disregarded, while all the "talk was of Richard theKing, " and all the independent bands from Europe clustered round thebanner of the Plantagenet. Philippe tried to win the hearts of the armyby liberality, and offered two pieces of gold a week to any knight whomight be distressed; Richard instantly promised four, adding a reward ofhigh value to any soldier who should bring him a stone from the walls ofthe city; and such allurements led many to leave the French service forthe English. 

The heat of the climate soon brought on fevers, and both the kings wereattacked. Richard, when unable to mount his horse, was carried on amattress to the front of the army, to superintend the machines andmilitary engines, often himself aiming a ballista at the walls. He thusslew a Saracen whom he beheld parading on the ramparts in the armor of aChristian knight who had lately fallen. Saladin was hovering aroundwith his army, attempting to relieve the town; but the Christian armyenclosed it, said the Arab writers, close as the eyelid does the eye, and he could only obtain intelligence from the inhabitants by means ofcarrier-pigeons; while at the same time some friend to the Christianswithin the town used to shoot arrows into the camp, with lettersattached, containing information of all the plans of the besieged. Thename of this secret ally was never discovered, but his tidings oftenproved of the greatest service. . 

A curious interview took place, between Saladin's brother, Malek-el-Afdal (Just King), and a deputy sent by Richard, to arrange fora conference on his recovery. The meeting was held in Saladin's camp. "It is the custom of our kings to make each other presents, even in timeof war, " said the deputy, "My master wishes to offer some worthy of theSultan. "

"The present shall be well received, " said Malek-el-Afdal, "so that weoffer others in return. "

"We have falcons, and other birds of prey, which have suffered much fromthe voyage, and are dying of hunger. Would it please you to give us somepoultry to feed them with? When recovered, they shall be a gift to theSultan. "

"Say rather, " returned Malek, "that your master is ill, and wishes forpoultry. He shall have what he will. "

Richard restored a Mussulman prisoner, and thereupon Saladin gave thedeputy a robe of honor, and sent an emir to the camp with presents ofDamascus pears, Syrian grapes, and mountain snow, which much conduced tothe convalescence of the Malek Rik, as the Saracens, who much admiredand feared King Richard, were wont to call him. 

On his recovery, the siege was pressed on, fierce battles daily takingplace, though the heat was such that the burning rays of the sun hadtheir share of the slain. At last Saladin, much to his grief, wasobliged to send permission to the inhabitants to surrender; which theydid, on condition of being allowed to ransom themselves for a fixed sumof money and the release of 2, 600 Christian captives. Thus ended thethree years' siege of Acre. The Kings of France and England set up theirstandards on the chief towers, and it was here that Richard insulted thebanner of Austria, which had been planted beside them. He caused it tobe torn down and thrown into the moat, demanding how a Duke dared assumethe rights of a King. Leopold maintained a sullen silence, brooding overthe indignity. 

This overbearing conduct of Richard alienated the chief Crusaders, andPhilippe Auguste, whose health was really much impaired, resolvedto return home, and sent a deputation to acquaint Richard with hisintention. They were so much grieved at their King abandoning theenterprise, that, when admitted into Richard's presence, they could notutter a word for tears. "It will be an eternal disgrace to himself andhis kingdom, " said Coeur de Lion; "but let him go, since he is dying forwant of his fair court of Paris. " He accordingly parted, after taking anoath to offer no injury to the English possessions in Richard's absence, and leaving Hugh, Duke of Burgundy, with the portion of his army whichremained in Palestine. There was a dispute, too, on the succession tothe crown of Jerusalem. Sybilla's death transferred her rights to hersister, Isabel, the wife of Conrade of Montferrat; but Guy de Lusignanrefused to give up the title of King, and the Christians' camp was rentwith disputes. 

At the end of August, Richard led his crusading troops from Acre intothe midst of the wilderness of Mount Carmel, where their sufferings wereterrible; the rocky, sandy, and uneven ground was covered with bushesfull of long, sharp prickles, and swarms of noxious insects buzzed inthe air, fevering the Europeans with their stings; and in addition tothese natural obstacles, multitudes of Arab horsemen harassed themon every side, slaughtering every straggler who dropped behind fromfatigue, and attacking them so unceasingly, that it was remarked thatthroughout their day's track there was not one space of four feetwithout an arrow sticking in the ground. 

Richard fought indefatigably, always in the van, and always ready toreward the gallant exploits of his knights. It was now that Guillaumedes Barres so signalized himself, that the King offered him hisfriendship, and forgot the quarrel at Messina. Here, too, a youngknight, who bore a white shield in hopes of gaining some honorablebearing, so distinguished himself, that Richard thus greeted him at theclose of the day: "Maiden knight, you have borne yourself as a lion, and done the deeds of six _croisés_" and granted him a lion betweensix crosses on a red field, with the motto "_Tinctus cruore Saraceno_"tinted with Saracen blood, whence he assumed the name of Tynte. 

At Arsoof, on the 7th of September, a great battle was fought. Saladinand his brother had almost defeated the two Religious Orders, and thegallant French knight, Jacques d'Avesne, after losing his leg by astroke from a scimitar, fought bravely on, calling on the English King, until he fell overpowered by numbers. Coeur de Lion and Guillaumedes Barres retrieved the day, hewed down the enemy on all sides, andremained masters of the field. It is even said that Richard and Saladinmet hand to hand, but this is uncertain. 

This victory opened the way to Joppa, where the Crusaders spent the nextmonth in the repair of the fortifications, while the Saracen forces layat Ascalon. While here, Richard often amused himself with hawking, and, one day, was asleep under a tree, when he was aroused by the approachof a party of Saracens, and springing on his horse Frannelle, which hadbeen taken at Cyprus, he rashly pursued them, and fell into an ambush. Four knights were slain, and he would have been seized, had not a Gasconknight, named Guillaume des Porcelets, called out that he himself wasthe Malek Rik, and allowed himself to be taken. Richard offered tennoble Saracens in exchange for this generous knight, whom Saladinrestored, together with a valuable horse that had been captured atthe same time. A present of another Arab steed accompanied them; butRichard's half-brother, William Longsword, insisted on trying thecreature before the King should mount it. No sooner was he on his back, than it dashed at once across the country, and before he could stopit, he found himself in the midst of the enemy's camp. The two Saracenprinces were extremely shocked and distressed lest this should besupposed a trick, and instantly escorted Longsword back, with gifts ofthree chargers which proved to be more manageable. 

Malek-el-Afdal was always the foremost in intercourse with theChristians; Richard knighted his son, and at one time had hopes thatthis youth might become a Christian, marry his sister Joan, the widowedQueen of Sicily, and be established as a sort of neutral King ofJerusalem; but this project was disconcerted in consequence of hisrefusal to forsake the religion of his Prophet. [Footnote: This is thegroundwork of the mysterious negotiations in the "Talisman" and ofMadame Cottin's romance of "Matilde. "]

From Joppa the Crusaders marched to Ramla, and thence, on New-Year'sDay, 1192, set out for Jerusalem through a country full of greaterobstacles than they had yet encountered. They were too full of spirit tobe discouraged, until they came to Bethany, where the two GrandMasters represented to Richard the imprudence of laying siege to suchfortifications as those of Jerusalem at such a season of the year, whileAscalon was ready in his rear for a post whence the enemy would attackhim. 

He yielded, and retreated to Ascalon, which Saladin had ruined andabandoned, and began eagerly to repair the fortifications, so as to beable to leave a garrison there. The soldiers grumbled, saying theyhad not come to Palestine to build Ascalon, but to conquer Jerusalem;whereupon Richard set the example of himself carrying stones, and calledon Leopold to do the same. The sulky reply, "He was not the son ofa mason, " so irritated Richard, that he struck him a blow. Leopoldstraightway quitted the army, and returned to Austria. 

The reports from home made Richard anxious to return, and he tried tobring the Eastern affairs to a settlement. He adjudged the crown ofJerusalem to Conrade of Montferrat, giving the island of Cyprus and itsprincess as a compensation to Lusignan; but Conrade had hardly assumedthe title of King, before his murder, by two assassins from the Old Manof the Mountain, threw everything into fresh confusion; and the baronsof Palestine chose in his place Henry of Champagne, a nephew ofRichard's, a brave knight, whom Queen Isabel was induced to accept asher third husband. 

It was not without great grief and many struggles that Coeur de Lionfinally gave up his hopes of taking Jerusalem. He again advanced as faras Bethany; but a quarrel with Hugh of Burgundy, and the defection ofthe Austrians, made it impossible for him to proceed, and he turned backto Ramla. 

While riding out with a party of knights, one of them called out, "Thisway, my lord, and you will see Jerusalem. "

"Alas!" said Richard, hiding his face with his mantle, "those who arenot worthy to win the Holy City, are not worthy to behold it!"

He returned to Acre; but there, hearing that Saladin was besiegingJoppa, he embarked his troops, and sailed to its aid. The Crescent shoneon its walls as he entered the harbor; but while he looked on in dismay, he was hailed by a priest, who had leapt into the sea, and swam out toinform him that there was yet time to rescue the garrison, though thetown was in the hands of the enemy. 

He hurried his vessel forward, leapt into the water breast-high, dashedupward on the shore, ordered his immediate followers to raise a bulwarkof casks and beams to protect the landing of the rest, and, rushing up aflight of steps, entered the city alone. "St. George! St. George!" Thatcry dismayed the Infidels; and those in the town, to the number of threethousand, fled in the utmost confusion, and were pursued for two milesby three knights who had been fortunate enough to find horses. 

Richard pitched his tent outside the walls, and remained there, with sofew troops that all were contained in ten tents. Very early one morning, before the King was out of bed, a man rushed into his tent, crying out, "O King! we are all dead men!"

Springing up, Richard fiercely silenced him. "Peace! or thou diest by myhand!" Then, while hastily donning his suit of mail, he heard that theglitter of arms had been seen in the distance, and in another moment theenemy were upon them, 7, 000 in number!

Richard had neither helmet nor shield, and only seventeen of his knightshad horses; but undaunted, he drew up his little force in a compactbody, the knights kneeling on one knee, covered by their shields, theirlances pointing outward, and between each pair an archer, with anassistant to load his cross-bow; and he stood in the midst, encouragingthem with his voice, and threatening to cut off the head of the firstwho turned to fly. In vain did the Saracens charge that mass of bravemen, not one-seventh of their number; the shields and lances wereimpenetrable: and without one forward step, or one bolt from thecrossbows, their passive steadiness turned back wave after wave of theenemy. At last the King gave the word for the crossbowmen to advance, while he, with seventeen mounted knights, charged lance in rest. Hiscurtal axe bore down all before it, and he dashed like lightning fromone part of the plain to another, with not a moment to smile at theopportune gift from the polite Malek-el-Afdal, who, in the hottestof the fight, sent him two fine horses, desiring him to use them inescaping from this dreadful peril. Little did the Saracen prince imaginethat they would find him victorious, and that they would mount two morepursuers! Next came a terrified fugitive, with news that 3, 000 Saracenshad entered Joppa! He summoned a few knights, and, without a word to therest, galloped back into the city. The panic inspired by his presenceinstantly cleared the streets, and, riding back, he again led his troopsto the charge; but such were the swarms of Saracens, that it was nottill evening that the Christians could give themselves a moment's rest, or look round and feel that they had gained one of the most wonderful ofvictories. Since daybreak Richard had not laid aside his sword or axe, and his hand was all one blister. 

No wonder the terror of his name endured for centuries in Palestine, andthat the Arab chided his starting horse with, "Dost think that yonderis the Malek Rik?" while the mother stilled her crying child by threatsthat the Malek Rik should take it. 

These violent exertions seriously injured Richard's health, and alow fever placed him in great danger, as well as several of his bestknights. No command or persuasion could induce the rest to commenceany enterprise without him, and the tidings from Europe induced him toconclude a peace, and return home. Malek-el-Afdal came to visit him, anda truce was signed for three years, three months, three weeks, threedays, three hours, and three minutes--thus so quaintly arranged inaccordance with some astrological views of the Saracens. Ascalon was tobe demolished, on condition free access to Jerusalem was allowed to thepilgrims; but Saladin would not restore the piece of the True Cross, ashe was resolved not to conduce to what he considered idolatry. Richardsent notice that he was coming back with double his present force toeffect the conquest; and the Sultan answered, that if the Holy City wasto pass into Frank hands, none could be nobler than those of the MalekRik. Fever and debility detained Richard a month longer at Joppa, duringwhich time he sent the Bishop of Salisbury to carry his offerings toJerusalem. The prelate was invited to the presence of Saladin, who spokein high terms of Richard's courage, but censured his rash exposure ofhis own life. 

On October 9th, 1193, Coeur de Lion took leave of Palestine, watchingwith tears its receding shores, as he exclaimed, "O Holy Land! I commendthee and thy people unto God. May He grant me yet to return to aidthee!"

The return from this Crusade was as disastrous as that from the siege ofTroy. David, Earl of Huntingdon, the Scottish King's brother (the SirKenneth of the Talisman), who had shared in all Richard's toils andglories, embarked at the same time, but was driven by contrary windsto Alexandria, and there seized and sold as a slave. Some Venetianmerchants, discovering his rank, bought him, and brought him to theirown city, where he was ransomed by some English merchants, and conductedby them to Flanders; but while sailing for Scotland, another stormwrecked him near the mouth of the Tay, near the town of Dundee, thename of which one tradition declares to be derived from histhankfulness--_Donum Dei_, the Gift of God. He founded a monastery incommemoration of his deliverance. 

The two queens, Berengaria and Joan, were driven by the storm to Sicily, and thence travelled through Italy. At Rome, to their horror, theyrecognized the jewelled baldric of King Richard exposed for sale; butthey could obtain no clue to its history, and great was their dread thathe had either perished in the Mediterranean waves, or been cut off bythe many foes who beset its coasts. 

His ship had been driven out of its course into the Adriatic, where thepirates of the Dalmatian coast attacked it. He beat them off, and thenprevailed on them to take him into their vessel and land him on thecoast of Istria, whence he hoped to find his way to his nephew Otho, Count of Saxony, elder brother of Henry, King of Jerusalem. This wasthe only course that offered much hope of safety, since Italy, France, Austria, and Germany were all hostile, and the rounding Spain was acourse seldom attempted; so that it was but a choice of dangers for himto attempt to penetrate to his own domains. Another shipwreck threw himon the coast between Venice and Aquileia; he assumed a disguise, and, calling himself Hugh the Merchant, set out as if in the train of oneof his own knights, named Baldwin de Bethune, through the lands of themountaineers of the Tyrol. The noblesse here were mostly relatives ofConrade of Montferrat; and Philippe Auguste having spread a report thatRichard had instigated his murder, it was no safe neighborhood. He sentone of his men to Count Meinhard von Gorby, the first of these, askingfor a safe-conduct, and accompanying the request with a gift of a rubyring. Meinhard, on seeing the ring, exclaimed, "Your master is nomerchant. He is Richard of England: but since he is willing to honor mewith his gifts, I will leave him to depart in peace. "

However, Meinhard sent intelligence to Frederic of Montferrat, Conrade'sbrother, through whose domains Richard had next to pass. He sent aNorman knight, called Roger d'Argenton, who was in his service, to seekout the English King; but d'Argenton would not betray his native prince, warned Richard, and told Frederic that it was only Baldwin de Bethune. Not crediting him, the Marquis passed on the intelligence to the Dukeof Austria; and Richard, who had left Bethune's suite, and was onlyaccompanied by a page, found every inhabited place unsafe, and wanderedabout for three days, till hunger, fatigue, and illness drove him to alittle village inn at Eedburg. 

Thence he sent his servant to Vienna, a distance of a few miles, tochange some gold bezants for the coin of the country. This attractednotice, and the page was carried before a magistrate, and interrogated. He professed to be in the service of a rich merchant who would arrive ina day or two, and, thus escaping, returned to his master, and advisedhim to hasten away; but Richard was too unwell to proceed, and remainedat the inn, doing all in his power to avert suspicion--even attendingto the horses, and turning the spit in the kitchen. His precautions weredisconcerted; the page, going again to Vienna, imprudently carried inhis belt an embroidered hawking-glove, which betrayed its owner to be ofhigh rank; and being again seized and tortured, confessed his master'sname and present hiding-place. 

Armed men were immediately sent to surround the inn, and the Mayor ofVienna, entering, found the worn-out pilgrim lying asleep upon his bed, and aroused him with the words, "Hail, King of England! In vain thoudisguisest thyself; thy face betrays thee. "

Awakening, the Lion-heart grasped his sword, declaring he would yield itto none but the Duke. The Mayor told him it was well for him that hehad fallen into their hands, rather than into those of the Montferratfamily; and Leopold, arriving, reproached him for the insult to theAustrian banner, which indeed was far more dishonored by its lord's foultreatment of a crusading pilgrim, than by its fall into the moat ofAcre. He was conducted to Vienna, and thence to the lonely Castle ofTierenstein, where he was watched day and night by guards with drawnswords. Leopold sent information of his capture to the Emperor, HenryVI. , who bore a grudge to Richard for his alliance with Tancred, who hadusurped Sicily from the Empress Constance; he therefore offered a pricefor the illustrious prisoner, and placed him in the strong Castle ofTriefels. Months passed away, and no tidings reached him from without. He deemed himself forgotten in his captivity, and composed an indignant_sirvente_ in his favorite Provençal tongue. The second verse we givein the original, for the sake of being brought so near to the royaltroubadour:

 "Or sachen ben, mici hom e mici baron, Angles, Norman, Peytavin, et Gascon, Qu'yeu non hai ja si pauore compagnon Que per ave, lou laissesse en prison. Faire reproche, certes yeu voli. Non; Mais souis dos hivers prez. "

Or, as it may be rendered in modern French:

 "Or sachent bien, mes hommes, mes barons, Anglais, Normands, Poitevins, Gascons, Que je n'ai point si pauvre compagnon Que pour argent, je le laisse en prison. Faire reproche, certes, je ne le veux. Non; Mais suis deux hivers pris. "

This melancholy line, "Two winters am I bound, " is the burden of thesong, closing the recurring rhymes of each stanza. In the next hecomplains that a captive is without friends or relations, and asks wherewill be the honor of his people if he dies in captivity. He lamentsover the French King ravaging his lands and breaking the oaths they hadtogether sworn while he is "_deux hivers pris_, " and speaks of two ofhis beloved troubadour companions by name, as certain to stir up hisfriends in his cause, and to mourn for his loss while he is "_deuxhivers pris_. "

He was right; the troubadours were his most devoted friends; Bertram deBorn was bewailing him, and Blondel de Nesle, guided by his faithfulheart, sang his King's own favorite lays before each keep and fortress, until the unfinished song was taken up and answered from the windows ofthe Castle of Triefels. 

The clue was found: Queen Eleanor wrote instantly to the Pope, callingon him to redress the injury offered to a returning pilgrim, yet signedwith the Cross, and sent two abbots and the Bishop of Ely to visit him. From them he learnt that his brother John and Philippe of France wereusing every means to prevent his return; but this gave him the lessconcern, as he said, "My brother John was never made for conqueringkingdoms. "

His ex-chancellor, William Longchamp, who had been expelled from Englandfor tyrannical government, thought to serve his cause by a forgery of aletter in Hebrew, Greek, and Latin, purporting to be from the Old Manof the Mountain, exculpating Richard from the murder of Conrade. It ranthus: "To Leopold, Duke of Austria, and to all princes and people of theChristian faith, Greeting. Whereas many kings in countries beyond theseas impute to Richard, King and Lord of England, the death of theMarquis, I swear by Him who reigns eternally, and by the law which wefollow, that King Richard had no participation in this murder. Done atour Castle of Shellia, and sealed with our seal, Midseptember, in theyear 1503 after Alexander. "

No one thought of inquiring what brought this confession from the fatherof assassins, or why he chose Alexander for his errand, the letter wasdeemed conclusive, gave great encouragement to Richard's partisans, andcaused many of the French to refuse to take up arms against him. 

Now that his captivity was public, Henry VI. Sent for him to Hagenau, where he pleaded his cause before the diet, was allowed more liberty, and promised permission to ransom himself, after performing homageto the Emperor, which probably was required of him to show thesubordination of the Royal to the Imperial rank. 

Philippe and John tempted the avarice of Henry by the offer of twice thesum if he would give them the captive, or 20, 000 marks for every monththat he was detained. However, the free princes of Germany, stirred upby Richard's nephew, the Count of Saxony, were so indignant at theirmaster's conduct, that he could not venture to accept the temptingoffer, and on the 28th of February, 1194, he indited this note tohis ally, the King of France: "Take care of yourself! The devil isunchained; but I could not help it. "

Philippe forwarded the warning to his accomplice, John, who tried toraise the English to prevent his brother from landing; but they wererejoicing at the return of their own King, and even before his arrivalhad adjudged John guilty of treason, and sentenced him to lose hismanors. 

March 20th, Richard landed at Sandwich, and two days after enteredLondon, among the acclamations of his subjects, who displayed all theirwealth to do him honor, and caused the Germans who accompanied him tosay that, if their Emperor had guessed at half the riches of England, his ransom would have been doubled. 

John was soon brought to sue for the pardon so generously given, and allranks vied with each other in raising the ransom. William the Lion ofScotland presented the King with 2, 000 marks, and the first instalmentwas sent to Germany; but before it arrived, Henry VI. Was dead, and theGermans were so much ashamed of the transaction, that they returned themoney. 

Thus ended the expedition, in which Richard had gained all the glorythat valor and generosity could attain, conquered a kingdom and givenit away, fought battles with desperate courage and excellent skill, and shown much fortitude and perseverance, but had marred all by hisunbridled temper. 

 CAMEO XXV. 

 ARTHUR OF BRITTANY. (1187-1206. )

 _Kings of England_. 1154. Henry II. 1189. Richard I. 1199. John. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1158. Malcolm IV. 1165. William. 

 _King of France_. 1180. Philippe II. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1152. Friedrich I. 1191. Henry VI. 

 _Popes. _ 1183. Clement IV. 1189. Celestine III. 1193. Innocent III. 

The son of Geoffrey Plantagenet and Constance, Duchess of Brittany, wasborn at Nantes, on Easter-day, 1187, six months after the death of hisfather. He was the first grandson of Henry II. , for the graceless youngKing Henry had died childless. Richard was still unmarried, and theelder child of Geoffrey was a daughter named Eleanor; his birth was, therefore, the subject of universal joy. There was a prophecy of Merlin, that King Arthur should reappear from the realm of the fairy Morgana, who had borne him away in his death-like trance after the battle ofCamelford, and, returning in the form of a child, should conquerEngland from the Saxon race, and restore the splendors of the BritishPendragons. 

The Bretons, resolved to see in their infant duke this champion of theirglories, overlooked the hated Angevin and Norman blood that flowed inhis veins, and insisted on his receiving their beloved name of Arthur. Thanksgivings were poured forth in all the churches in Brittany, and thealtars and shrines at the sacred fountains were adorned with wreaths offlowers. 

At the same a time a Welsh bard directed King Henry to cause search tobe made at Glastonbury, the true Avallon, for the ancient hero's corpse, which, as old traditions declared, had been buried between two pyramidswithin the abbey. There, in fact some distance beneath the surface, wasfound a leaden cross, inscribed with the words, "_Hic jacet sepultusinclytus Rex Arthurus in insula Avallonia_" (Here lies buried theunconquered King Arthur in the isle of Avallon). A little deeper was acoffin, hollowed out of an oak tree, and within lay the bones of therenowned Arthur and his fair Queen Guenever. His form was of giganticsize; there were the marks of ten wounds upon his skull, and by his sidewas a sword, the mighty Caliburn, or Excalibar, so often celebrated inromances. Guenever's hair was still perfect, to all appearance, and ofa beautiful golden color, but it crumbled into dust on exposure to theair. The Bretons greatly resented this discovery, which they chose toterm an imposture of Henry's, in order to cast discredit on Merlin'sprediction. 

They were, however, in no condition to oppose the grasping monarch;Henry entered Brittany, assembled the States at Nantes, and claimed theguardianship of his grandson's person and domains. They were at firstintimidated by his threats, but Constance showed so much spirit, thatshe obtained the keeping of her son, and the immediate government, though she was not to act without the advice and consent of the Kingof England, who received the oaths of the barons present. The widowedheiress suffered much persecution from the different suitors for herhand, among whom figured her brother-in-law, John Lackland; and Henry, fearing her marriage with some powerful prince, so tormented her bythreats of removing her son from her charge, that he forced her into amarriage with Ranulf de Blondeville, Count of Chester, grandson to anillegitimate son of Henry I. , a man of violent, and ambitious temper, and of mean and ungraceful appearance. In a dispute which took placebetween him and the Count de Perche, in Lincoln Cathedral, the lattercontemptuously called him a dwarf. "Sayest thou so?" cried Ranulf; "erelong I shall seem to thee as high as that steeple!"--and his words werefulfilled, when, as Duke of Brittany, he claimed the allegiance of theCount. 

He made himself extremely hated in Brittany by his cruelty andinjustice; and no sooner had the news arrived of the death of Henry II. , than the people rose with one consent, drove him away, and restored thepower to Constance. Richard I. Did not interfere in his behalf, and appeared favorable to his nephew Arthur, acknowledging him asheir-presumptive of England, and, when at Messina, betrothing him to thedaughter of Tancred, King of Sicily. It was probably in honor ofthis intended alliance that Richard presented Tancred with the swordExcalibar, which certainly should never have passed out of thepossession of the British. 

Constance remained at peace for the present, though Richard's absenceleft the other territories over which he asserted his power exposed tomuch disturbance. He had left the government of England in the hands ofHugh, Bishop of Durham (the young Earl), and William Longchamp, Bishopof Ely--a native of Beauvais, who had risen to high favor in the employfirst of Geoffrey, the son of Rosamond, Archbishop of York, and was nowchancellor, and afterward of Richard. He was an arrogant man, and brokethrough all restraint, imprisoned his colleague, deprived him of hisoffices, and forced him to resign his earldom; then, when Richarddespatched orders that he should be re-instated, declared that he knewwhat were the King's private intentions, and should obey no publicinstructions. He sealed public acts with his own seal instead of theKing's, kept a guard of fifteen hundred rapacious and disorderlymercenaries, plundered men of every rank, so that it was said "theknight could not keep his silver belt, the noble his ring, the lady hernecklace, nor the Jew his merchandise. " He travelled in great state, with a train of minstrels and jesters, who drowned the outcries of theinjured people by songs in his praise. Again Richard sent orders torestrain him, but in vain; he only declared them a forgery, and pursuedhis careless course. 

Geoffrey, Archbishop of York, had sworn not to enter the kingdom forthree years, but he now returned; whereupon the chancellor seizedhim while at mass, and kept him prisoner. John had no love for hishalf-brother: but this was a good opportunity of overthrowing thechancellor, after such an outrage on the person of an archbishop; and, at the head of the barons and bishops, he forced Longchamp to resign thechancellorship, and promise to give up the keys of the King's castles. 

To avoid yielding the castles, he attempted to escape from England indisguise, and arrived at the seashore of Kent in the dress of an oldwoman--a gown with large sleeves, a thick veil, and a bundle of linenand ell-wand in his hand. The tide did not serve, and he was forced toseat himself on a stone to wait for his vessel. Here the fisherwomencame up and began to examine his wares, and ask their price; but theEnglish chancellor and bishop understood no English, and only shookhis head. Thinking him a crazy woman, they peeped under his veil, and, "spying a great beard under his muffler, " raised a shout which broughttheir husbands to the spot, who, while he vainly tried to explainhimself, dragged him in derision through the mud, and shut him up in acellar. He was, however, released, gave up the keys, and left England. 

Geoffrey became chancellor in his stead, and took possession of the seeof York. The next disturbance was caused by the return of Philippeof France, begging Pope Celestine III. To absolve him of his oath torespect Richard's dominions. Celestine refused, and no one was found tosecond his plans but Richard's own brother John, whom he brought overby promises of securing to him the succession, and bestowing on himthe continental fiefs. The English, and with them William the Lion ofScotland and his brother David, maintained the rights of the youngArthur, and matters continued in suspense till Richard's release fromhis captivity. 

Easily subduing and more easily pardoning his traitor brother, Richardcarried his arms into France, gained a victory at Vendome, and took thegreat seal of France; then entered Guienne, where the turbulent nobilityhad revolted, and reducing them, enjoyed a short space of tranquillityand minstrelsy, and kept on a poetical correspondence with Count Guy ofAuvergne. 

Arthur, who was now nine years old, was, in 1196, introduced by hismother to the assembly of the States of Brittany, and associated withher in the duchy. His uncle at the same time claimed the charge of himas his heir, and invited Constance to a conference at Pontorson. On herway--it is much to be feared with his connivance--she was seized by abody of troops under her husband, the Earl of Chester, and carried aprisoner to the castle of St. James de Beuvron. 

Her nobles met at St. Malo, and deputed the seneschal of Rennes toinquire of her how they should act, and to assure her of their fidelity. She thanked them earnestly, but her whole entreaty was that they wouldguard her son, watch him like friends, servants, and parents, and savehim from the English. "As for me, " wrote she, "that will be as Godwills; but whatever may befall me, do your best for Arthur my son. Ishall always be well, provided he is well, and in the care of goodsubjects. "

The vassals wept at this letter, full of maternal love; they swore todevote themselves to their young lord, even to the death, and obtainedfrom him a promise never to treat with the English without theirconsent. They placed him under the charge of the Sieur de Vitré, whoconducted him from castle to castle with so much secrecy, that Richardcontinually failed in his attempts to seize on him. Treaties wereattempted, but failed, with mutual accusations of perfidy, and whileConstance continued a prisoner, a most desolating war raged in theunfortunate duchy. The dislike and distrust that existed betweenConstance and her mother-in-law, Queen Eleanor, seem to have been theroot of many of these troubles; Eleanor was all-powerful with her son, and contrived to inspire him with distrust of Constance--a suspicionnaturally augmented by her refusal to allow him the care of her son, hisown heir, whom she placed in the hands of the foe of the English. 

Richard's troops were chiefly Brabançon mercenaries, orfree-companions--a lawless soldiery, deservedly execrated; and theircaptain, Mercadet, was a favorite of the King on account of hisdauntless courage and enterprise. In a skirmish, Mercadot took prisonerthe Bishop of Beauvais, one of the warlike prelates who forgot theirproper office. The Pope demanded his liberation, and Richard returnedthe suit of armor in which the bishop had been taken, with the message, "See if this be thy son's coat, or no. "

"No, indeed, " said Celestine; "this is the coat of a son of Mars; I willleave it to Mars to deliver him. "

Vitré succeeded in lodging young Arthur, his charge, in the hands ofthe King of France, who espoused his cause as an excuse for attackingRichard. Several battles took place, and at length another treaty ofpeace was made, by which Constance was liberated, after eighteen months'captivity. Doubtless this would soon have proved as hollow as everyother agreement between the French King and the Plantagenet; but it wasCoeur de Lion's last. 

The Vicomte de Limoges, in Poitou, sent him two mule-burdens of silver, part of a treasure found in his hands. Richard rapaciously claimed thewhole. "No, " said the Vicomte, "only treasure in gold belongs to thesuzerain; treasure in silver is halved. "

Richard, in anger, marched to Poitou with his Brabançons, and besiegedthe Castle of Chaluz, where he believed the rest of the riches to beconcealed. In the course of the assault his shoulder was pierced by anarrow shot from the walls by an archer named Bertrand de Gourdon, andthough the wound at first appeared slight, the surgeons, in attemptingto extract the head of the arrow, so mangled the shoulder, that fevercame on, and his life was despaired of. Mercadet, in the meantime, pushed on the attack, took the castle, and brought Gourdon a prisoner tothe King's tent. 

"Villain, wherefore hast thou slain me?" said Richard. 

"Because, " replied Gourdon, "thou hast with thine own hand killed myfather and my two brothers. Torture me as thou wilt; I shall rejoice inhaving freed the world of a tyrant. "

The dying King ordered that the archer should be released, and have asum of money given to him; but the Brabançons, in their rage and grief, flayed the unhappy man alive. Richard's favorite sister Joan, Queen ofSicily, had married Raymond, Count of Toulouse, who was at thisjuncture in great distress from having taken the part of the persecutedAlbigenses. She travelled to her brother's camp to ask his aid, butarriving to find him expiring, she was taken ill, and, after givingbirth to a dead child, died a few hours after her brother. They wereburied together, at their father's feet, at Fontevraud. Queen Berengariasurvived him thirty years, living peacefully in a convent at Mans, whereshe was buried in the church of St. Julien, an English Queen who neverset foot in England. 

Loud were the lamentations of the troubadours of Aquitaine over theirminstrel King, Bertrand de Born especially, bewailing him as "_leroi des courtois, l'empereur des preux_, " and declaring that barons, troubadours, jongleurs, had lost their all. This strange, contradictorycharacter, the ardent friend yet the turbulent enemy of the Plantagenetprinces, ended his life of rebellion and gallantry as a penitent in theAbbey of Citeaux. Dante nevertheless introduces him in his Inferno, hishead severed from his body, and explaining his doom thus:

 "Sappi ch'i'son Bertram dal Bornio, quelli Che diedi al re Giovanni i ma' comforti I' feci'l padre e'l figlio in se ribelli Achitofel non fè pir d'Absalone E di David co' malvagi pungelli Perch' i' parti cosi giunte persone Partito porto il mio cerebro, lasso Dal suo principio ch'é n questo troncone cosi s'osserva in me lo contrapasso. "

Queen Eleanor's influence and Richard's own displeasure at the Duchessof Brittany so prevailed, that Arthur was not even named by the dyingCoeur de Lion; but he directed his barons to swear fealty to his brotherJohn, and the wish was universally complied with. 

Philippe Auguste's voice was the only one uplifted in favor ofArthur, but it was merely as a means of obtaining a bribe, which Johnadministered in the shape of the county of Evreux, as a marriage-portionfor his niece, Blanche, the eldest daughter of Eleanor Plantagenet, Queen of Castile. John, though half-married to various ladies, had norecognized wife, and to give her to Louis, the eldest son of the Kingof France, would therefore, as John hoped, separate France from theinterests of the Breton prince. He little thought what effect that claimwould have on himself! Queen Eleanor, though in her seventieth year, travelled to Castile to fetch her granddaughter, a beautiful and noblelady, innocent of all the intrigues that hinged on her espousal, and inwhom France received a blessing. 

Philippe Auguste brought young Arthur to this betrothal, and caused himto swear fealty to his uncle for Brittany as a fief of Normandy. Arthurwas now thirteen, and had newly received the order of knighthood, adopting as his device the lion, unicorn, and griffin, which traditiondeclared to have been borne by his namesake, and this homage must havebeen sorely against his will. He was betrothed to Marie, one of theFrench King's daughters, and continued to reside at his court, neverventuring into the power of his uncle. 

His mother, Constance, had taken advantage of this tranquillity toobtain a divorce from the hated Earl of Chester, and to give her hand tothe Vicomte Guy de Thouars; but the Bretons appear to have disapprovedof the step, as they never allowed him to bear the title of Duke. Shesurvived her marriage little more than two years, in the course of whichshe gave birth to three daughters, Alix, Catherine, and Marguerite, anddied in the end of 1201. 

Arthur set off to take possession of his dukedom, and was soon delightedto hear of a fresh disturbance between his uncle and the King of France, hoping that he might thus come to his rights. 

John had long ago fallen in love with Avice, granddaughter of EarlRobert of Gloucester, and had been espoused to her at his brother'scoronation; but the Church had interposed, and refused to permit theirunion, as they were second cousins. He was now in the south of France, where he beheld the beautiful Isabelle, daughter of the Count ofAngoulême, only waiting till her age was sufficient for her to fulfillthe engagement made in her infancy, and become the wife of Hugh deLusignan, called _le brun_, Count de la Marche, namely, the borders ofEnglish and French Poitou. Regardless of their former ties, John at onceobtained the damsel from her faithless parents, and made her his queen;while her lover, who was ardently attached to her, called upon the Kingof France, as suzerain, to do him justice. 

Philippe was glad to establish the supremacy of his court, and summonedJohn to appear. John promised compensation, and offered as a pledge twoof his castles; then broke his word, and refused; whereupon Philippetook up arms, besieged the castles, and had just destroyed them both, when Arthur arrived, with all the Breton knights he could collect, andburning with the eagerness of his sixteen years. 

At once Philippe offered to receive his homage for the county of Anjou, and to send him to conquer it with any knights who would volunteer tofollow him. Hugh de Lusignan was the first to bring him fifteen, andother Poitevin barons joined him; but, in all, he could muster but onehundred knights and four or five hundred other troops, and the wiserheads advised him to wait for reinforcements from Brittany. The fieryyoung men, however, asked, "When was it our fashion to count our foes?"and their rashness prevailed. Arthur marched to besiege the townof Mirabeau, where there resided one whom he should never haveattacked--his aged grandmother; but Constance had taught him nosentiment toward her but hatred, and with this ill-omened beginning tohis chivalry he commenced his expedition. 

The town was soon taken: but Eleanor's high spirit had not deserted her;she shut herself up in the castle, and contrived to send intelligenceto her son. John was for once roused, and marched to Mirabeau with suchspeed, that Arthur soon found himself surrounded in his turn. The Queenwas in the citadel, the prince in the town, besieging her, and himselfbesieged by the King on the outside; but the town wall was strong, andJohn could not easily injure his nephew, nor send succor to his mother. 

He recollected a knight named Guillaume dos Roches, who had once beenattached to Arthur's service, but was now in his camp; and sending forhim, the wily King thus addressed him: "It is hard that persons whoshould be friendly kindred should so disturb each other for want ofmeeting and coming to an understanding. Here is Eleanor, my honoredmother, discourteously shut up in a tower in danger of being broken downby engines of war, and sending forth nothing but cries and tears. Hereis Arthur, my fair nephew, who some day will be an honor to chivalry, going straight forward, fancying nothing can hurt him, looking onbattles as feasts and sports. And here am I, John, his lord and King, who could easily take from him at a blow all the rest of his life; I amwaiting, and endeavoring to spare him, though his men-at-arms may comeand catch me like a fox in the toils. Cannot you find some expedient?Can you remember no friend of my fair nephew who could help you torestore peace, and obtain a guerdon from me?"

"The only guerdon I desire, " replied Des Roches, "is the honor ofserving my lord; but one gift I entreat. "

"I grant it, by the soul of my father, " said John. 

"To-morrow, then, " said Des Roches, "the young Duke and all his younglords shall be at your disposal; but I claim the gift you granted me. Itis, that none of the besieged shall be imprisoned or put to death, andthat Duke Arthur be treated by you as your good and honorable nephew, and that you leave him such of his lands as rightfully pertain to him. "

John promised, and even swore that, if he violated his word, he releasedhis subjects from their oaths. Arthur's stepfather, Guy de Thouars, witnessed the agreement, and, thus satisfied, Des Roches introduced histroops into the town at midnight, and Arthur and his followers wereseized in their sleep. But for John's promise, he regarded it no morethan the wind; he sent twenty-two knights at once to Corfe Castle, chained two and two together in carts drawn by oxen, where all but Hughde Lusignan were starved to death by his orders. He threw the rest intodifferent prisons, and closely confined his nephew at Falaise. DesRoches remonstrated, upon which John attempted to arrest both him andDe Thouars, but they escaped from his dominions; and Des Roches was sogrieved at the fatal consequence of his treachery, that he became ahermit, and ended his life in penance. 

The old Queen, whose disposition had softened with her years, chargedJohn, on pain of her curses, not to hurt his nephew, and exerted herselfto save the victims from barbarity. She prevailed so far as to obtainthe life of Lusignan; but he was shut up at Bristol Castle, where Johnlikewise imprisoned the elder sister of Arthur, Eleanor, a girl ofeighteen, of such peerless beauty that she was called the Pearl ofBrittany. John held a parley with his nephew at Falaise, when thefollowing dialogue took place; [Footnote: These particulars are from oldchronicles of slight authority. ]

"Give up your false pretentions, " said John, "to crowns you will neverwear. Am I not your uncle? I will give you a share of my inheritance asyour lord, and grant you my friendship. "

"Better the hatred of the King of France!" exclaimed the high-spiritedboy; "he has not broken his faith, and with a noble knight there isalways a resource in generosity. "

"Folly to trust him!" sneered John. "French kings are the born enemiesof Plantagenets. "

"Philippe has placed the crown on my brow--he was my godfather inchivalry--he has granted me his daughter, " said Arthur. 

"And you will never marry her, fair nephew! My towers are strong; nonehere resist my will. "

The boy burst out proudly: "Neither towers nor swords shall make mecowardly enough to deny the right I hold from my father and from God. He was your elder brother, now before the Saviour of men. England, Touraine, Anjou, Guienne, are mine in his right, and Brittany through mymother. Never will I renounce them, but by death. "

"So be it, fair nephew, " were John's words, and with them he left hiscaptive alone, to dwell on the horrors thus implied. 

Soon after, John secretly sent a party of men into Arthur's dungeon, with orders to put out his eyes. The youth caught up a wooden bench, anddefended himself with it, calling so loudly for help as to bring to thespot the excellent governor of the castle, Hubert de Burgh, who had beenin ignorance of their horrible design. He sent away the assassins, and, as the only means of saving the poor prince, he caused the chapel bellto be tolled, and let it be supposed that he had perished under theirhands. All the world believed it, and Brittany and Normandy began torise, to call the murderer to account. Hubert thought he was doing aservice in divulging the safety of the prisoner, but the effect was, that John transferred the poor boy to Rouen, and to the keeping ofWilliam Bruce. 

He was an old man, and dreaded the iniquity that he saw would soon bepractised; and, coming to the King, gave up his charge in these words:"I know not what Fate intends for your nephew, whom I have hithertofaithfully kept. I give him up to you, in full health, and sound inlimb; but I will guard him no longer; I must return to my own affairs. "

John's eyes flashed fury; but the baron retired to his own fiefs, whichhe put in a state of defence. A few days after, John and his wickedsquire, Pierre de Maulac, left the court, giving notice that he wasgoing to Cherbourg, and, after wandering for three days in the woods ofMoulineau, came late at night in a little boat to the foot of the towerwhere Arthur was confined. Horses were ready there, and he sent Maulacto bring him his nephew. 

"Fair nephew, " said he, "come and see the day you have so long desired. I will make you free as air: you shall even have a kingdom to govern. "

Arthur began to ask explanations, but John cut him short, telling himthere would be time for questions and thanks; and Maulac helped him tohis horse, for he was so much weakened by his imprisonment that he couldhardly mount. They rode on, Arthur in front, till they came to a spotwhere the river flowed beneath a precipitous bank. It was John's chosenspot; and he spurred his horse against his nephew's, striking him downwith his sword. The poor boy cried aloud for mercy, promising to yieldall he required. 

"All is mine henceforth, " said John, "and here is the kingdom I promisedyou. "

Then striking him again, by the help of Maulac he dragged him to theedge of the rock, and threw him headlong into the Seine, whose watersclosed over the brave young Plantagenet, in his eighteenth year, endingall the hopes of the Bretons. The deed of darkness was guessed at, though it was long before its manner became known; and John himselfmarked out its consummation by causing himself to be publicly crownedover again, and by rewarding his partner in the crime with the hand ofthe heiress of Mulgrave. His mother, Queen Eleanor, is said to have diedof grief at the horror he had perpetrated. She had retired, after thesiege of Mirabeau, to the convent of Fontevraud, where she assumed theveil, and now shared the same fate as her husband, King Henry--like him, dying broken-hearted for the crimes of their son. She was buried besidehim and her beloved Coeur de Lion. 

The Bretons mourned and raged at the loss of their young duke. Hissister Eleanor was wasting her youth and loveliness in a prison, which she only left, after her oppressor's death, to become a nun atAmbresbury; and they therefore proclaimed as their duchess her littlehalf-sister, Alix de Thouars, who was, at four years old, presentedto the States in her father's arms, and shortly after married to anefficient protector, Pierre de Dreux, called, from his quarrels with theclergy, Mauclerc. 

Never had the enemy of the Plantagenets been so well served as by KingJohn. Such was the indignation and grief of the whole French noblesse, that, when Pope Innocent III sent out a legate to mediate between thetwo kings, the barons bound themselves by a charter, "to second theirlord, King Philippe, in his war against King John, notwithstanding thewill of the Pope, exhorting him to contrive it without being dismayed byvain words, and agreeing to give him all assistance, and enter into notreaty with the Pope save with his consent. "

Finding his nobles in this disposition, Philippe ventured on anunprecedented step, namely, that of summoning the King of England, ashis vassal for Normandy and Anjou, to answer for the crime done on theperson of his nephew, before his peers, namely, the other great crownvassals and barons holding fiefs directly from the King. 

John did not deny the competence of the court of peers, and sent Hubertde Burgh, and Eustace, Bishop of Ely, to declare that he would willinglyappear, provided a safe-conduct was sent to him. Philippe declared thathe certainly might come in safety; but when they asked if he guaranteedhis security, supposing he was condemned, he replied, "By all the saintsof France, no! That must be decided by the peers. " The bishop declaredthat a crowned head could not be tried for murder; the English baronswould not permit it. "What is that to me?" said Philippe. "The Dukes ofNormandy have certainly conquered England; but because a vassal augmentshis domain, is the suzerain to lose his rights?"

Two months were allowed for John's appearance in person; and on theappointed day the assembly was held in the Louvre: the nobles in erminerobes, and the heralds paraded the public places, calling on KingJohn to appear and answer for his felony; then, as no reply was made, judgment was pronounced that his fiefs of Normandy, Anjou, and Poitou, were forfeited to the Crown, Guienne alone being excepted, as itsheiress, his mother, was not at that time dead. 

The execution followed upon the sentence: Philippe instantly marchedinto Normandy, and seized upon towns, his flatterers said, as if hecaught them in a net. Chateau Gaillard, however, held out for more thana year, and Philippe was forced to blockade it. It had been fortified toperfection by Richard, who termed it his beautiful Castle on the Rock, and pertinaciously defended by Roger de Lacy. All the non-combatantswere driven out; but the French would not allow them to pass throughtheir lines, and they lived miserably among the rocks, trying to satisfytheir hunger with the refuse of the camp. One wretched man was foundgnawing a piece of the leg of a dog, and when some compassionate Frenchtried to take it from him, he resisted, declaring he would not part withit till he was satisfied with bread. They fed him, but he could hardlymasticate, though swallowing his food ravenously. 

One tower was at last overthrown, and another was gained by a bold"varlet, " named Bogis, who was lifted on the shoulders of his comrades, till he could climb in at an undefended window, where he drew up sixtymore with ropes. They burnt down the doors, and entered the castle, where only one hundred and fifty knights remained alive. Keeping them atbay, Bogis lowered the drawbridge, and admitted the rest of the army;the remains of the garrison retreated into the keep, still resolved notto surrender, though battering-rams, catapults, and every engine of warwas brought to bear on them. A huge piece of wall fell down, still therewas no surrender; but with night, all resistance ceased, and the French, entering in the morning, found every one of the garrison lying dead inthe dust and ruins, all their wounds in the face and breast--notone behind, "to the great honor and praise of chivalry, " said theirassailants, who rejoiced in their valor. 

Only one feeble attempt had been made by John to succor these nobleand constant men, though no further distant than Rouen, where he wasfeasting with his new queen. All his reply to messages of Philippe'sadvance was, "Let him alone; I will regain more in a day than he cantake in a year. "

Chinon was taken after a gallant defence, and in it Hubert de Burgh, forwhom John seems to have had an unusual regard. For a moment it grievedhim, and he awoke from his festivities to say to his queen:

"There, dame, do you hear what I have lost for your sake?"

"Sire, " said Isabella, who had learnt by this time at how dear a priceshe had purchased her crown, "on my part, I lost the best knight in theworld for your sake!"

"By the faith I owe you, in ten years' time we shall have no corner safefrom the King of France and his power!"

"Certes! sir, " she answered, "I believe you are very desirous of being aking checkmated in a corner. "

She seems to have taken every occasion of showing her contempt for themean-spirited wretch to whom she had given her hand: but at present hertreatment only incited the King's ardor of affection: he formed moreschemes of pleasure for her, and turned a deaf ear to all complaintsfrom his deserted subjects, until Falaise had surrendered, Mont St. Michael was burnt, and Rouen itself was threatened. Then he took flight, and returned to England, where he made his Norman war a pretext fortaxes; but when the Rouennais citizens, who still had a love for theline of Rollo, came to tell him that they must surrender in thirty daysunless they were succored, he would not interrupt his game at chess tolisten to them; and, when it was finished, only said, "Do as you can: Ihave no aid to give you. "

They were therefore forced to surrender, Philippe swearing to respecttheir rights and liberties; and thus, after three hundred years, did thedukedom that first raised the Norman line to the rank of princes passfrom the race of Rollo, disgracefully forfeited by a cowardly murder. The four little isles of Guernsey, Jersey, Alderney, and Sark, are theonly remnant of the duchy won by the Northman. They still belong to theQueen, as Duchess of Normandy, are ruled by peculiar Norman laws, andbear on their coinage only the three lions, without the bearings of herother domains. 

Anjou, Maine, and Touraine, were won by the French, without one blowstruck in their defence by Ingelger's degenerate descendant, "whosesinful heart made feeble hand. " The recovery of his continentaldominions served as a pretext for a tax of every tenth shilling; butthis being illegal, Geoffrey, the Archbishop of York, refused to consentto, and threatened excommunication to all in his diocese who should payit. John vowed vengeance, and placed his life in such danger that he wasforced to flee from the country, and his death abroad saved the Kingfrom the guilt of the murder of a brother. 

With the money John had raised, he levied a force of Brabançons andfree-companions, entered Anjou, burnt Angers, and besieged Nantes; buton hearing of Philippe's advance, retreated, and thus ended all hopes ofhis regaining his inheritance. The Norman barons, whose lands had passedto the French, told him that, if their bodies served him, their heartswould be with the French, and, for the most part, transferred theirallegiance, and he remained with his disgrace. Thus was Arthur avenged. 

 CAMEO XXVI. 

 THE INTERDICT. (1207-1214. )

_King of England. _ 1199. John. _King of Scotland_ 1163. William. _Kingof France_ 1180. Philippe II. _Emperors of Germany. _ 1208. Otho IV. 1209. Friedrich III. _Pope. _ 1198. Innocent III. 

The election of bishops still remained a subject of dispute in theChurch, in spite of the settlement apparently effected in the time ofArchbishop Anselm, when it was determined that, on the vacancy of a see, the King should send a _Congé d'élire_ (permission to elect) to thechapter of the cathedral, generally accompanied with a recommendation, and that the prelate should receive investiture from the Crown of thetemporalities of his see. However, in the case of archbishoprics, thematter was complicated by the right of the bishops to have a voice inthe choice of their primate, and by the custom of the Pope's presentinghim with a pall, which the grasping pontiffs of the thirteenth centurywould fain have converted into a power of rejection. At each election toCanterbury the debate broke out, enhanced by the jealousies between thesecular clergy, who often formed the majority of the bishops, and whousually held with the sovereign, and the regular monks of St. Augustine, who were the canons of the cathedral, and looked to the Pope. 

Richard, who succeeded Thomas à Becket, was a monastic priest, mild, andsomewhat time-serving, conniving at irregularities, and never apparentlyprovoked out of his meekness, except by the perpetual struggle forprecedence with the see of York--and no wonder, when, at a synod atWestminster, Roger, Archbishop of York, fairly sat down in his lap onfinding him occupying the seat of honor next to the legate. Upon thisthe Pope interfered, pronouncing the Archbishop of York, Primate ofEngland, and him of Canterbury, Primate of all England; but the jealousyas to the right of having the cross carried before them in each other'sprovinces continued for centuries to a lamentable and shameful degree. 

Baldwin, who succeeded him, seems to have been secular, but little isknown of him. He, with the consent of Richard Coeur de Lion, laid thefoundation of a convent at Lambeth, which he intended as a residence forthe primate, in order to lessen the preponderance of the canons of St. Augustine; he then accompanied the King on the Crusade, and died offever before the walls of Acre. 

Walter Hubert, Bishop of Salisbury, was also a Crusader, and a greatfriend of Richard, who, from his imprisonment, wrote letters to pointhim out as archbishop--a favor which he returned by great exertionsin raising the King's ransom. He was a completely worldly and secularpriest, continually giving umbrage to his chapter, who used to complainof him to the Pope, and obtain censures, of which he took no heed. WhenRichard made him Grand Justiciary, they declared that it was contraryto all rule for him to be judge in causes of blood; whereupon the Popeordered the King to remove him from the office, but without much effect. Sharing Richard's councils, he had the same dislike to Constance and herson, and willingly crowned John, making a dangerous and disloyal speech, in which he pronounced the kingdom elective, and to be conferred on themost worthy of the royal family. He accepted the chancellorship fromJohn, and was so fond of boasting of its riches and dignities, that hedrew on himself a rebuke from Hugh Bardolfe, one of the rude barons. "MyLord, with your leave, if you would consider the power and dignityof your spiritual calling, you would not undertake the yoke of layservitude. " But, unchecked by this rebuke, he gave offence to John byfoolishly trying to vie with the King in the richness of the raimentgiven at Christmas to his retainers--an affront to John which asumptuous feast at Easter could not efface. 

The chief grievance to the Augustine chapter at Canterbury was thenew foundation at Lambeth; they dreaded that Becket's relics might hetranslated thither, and they never ceased appealing to Pope InnocentIII. Till they had obtained an order for its demolition. This disputemade them more than ever bent on an archbishop of their own choice. 

Hubert died at Canterbury, July 18th, 1205, and the younger monks weremisled by party-spirit into the attempt to steal a march on the rest. They assembled on the night of his death, and elected their sub-priorReginald, conducted him to the cathedral, placed him on thearchiepiscopal throne, and hurried him off in secret to Rome, withstrict injunctions not to divulge his election till he had obtainedconfirmation of it from the Pope. 

Reginald was as imprudent as might have been expected from hisacceptance of a dignity thus conferred; he had no sooner crossed thesea, than he began to boast of his rank as archbishop-elect. Thesetidings coming back to England, his own supporters were ashamed of him, and, willing to have their transaction forgotten, joined with theirelders, the bishops, and the King, in appointing John de Gray, Bishop ofNorwich, a man apparently of the same stamp as Hubert, as he was one ofthe Justiciaries, and little attentive to the affairs of his diocese. Twelve of the canons of St. Augustine were despatched to Rome to explainthe affair to the Pope, offer him a present of 12, 000 marks, and obtainthe pall for Gray. 

The Pope examined into the subject, and pronounced, of course, Reginald's election null, and Gray's also null, because made before theformer claim had been disposed of. The twelve canons were therefore tomake a fresh election, and as this had been foreseen before they lefthome, the King had bound them by oath to choose no one but Gray. Innocent might justifiably object to such a person, but his proceedingswere in accordance with the violent and domineering spirit whichactuated him. His nominee was an Englishman named Stephen Langton, alearned man, who had taught in the University of Paris, of which he wasnow chancellor; he had been recommended from thence to Innocent, who hadgiven him high office at Rome, and made him a cardinal. His life wasirreproachable, and he was deeply learned in the Scriptures, which itis said he was the first to divide into verses. To so distinguished andexcellent a person Innocent hoped no objection could arise; and whenthe canons of St. Augustine demurred as to their oath, and the Kingand chapter's right, he silenced their scruples by threats ofexcommunication, and they all, excepting one named Elias de Braintefeld, concurred in appointing Langton and enthroning him, singing _Te Deum_while Elias stood at the door. 

Innocent wrote to John two letters. The first was merely complimentary, and contained four rings, with explanations of their emblematic meaning. Their circular form signified eternity; their number, constancy; theemerald was for faith; the sapphire for hope; the red granite forcharity; the topaz for good works. In his other letter, he recommendedLangton to the King, dwelling on his many high qualities, on which Johnhimself had previously complimented him. 

A good archbishop was the last thing John desired, especially a man ofhigh spirit and ability, who would act as a restraint on him, and herefused to receive the letters. The chapter of Canterbury, however, confirmed the election, and the Pope, after waiting in vain for ananswer from the King, consecrated Stephen Langton at Viterbo, June 17th. 

John certainly so far had the advantage that his opponents had placedthemselves in the wrong, but as no one could outdo him in that respect, he instantly fell on the unfortunate monks of Canterbury, and declaringthem guilty of high treason, sent two of his most lawless men-at-armsand their followers to drive them out of the country. At the same timehe wrote to the Pope that he was astonished at his thus treating acountry that contributed so largely to the papal revenues; that he wasresolved to support Gray's election, and that he was determined thatLangton should never set foot in England. 

Innocent remonstrated in vain, declaring that this should never be madea precedent for interference with future appointments. John held out, and at length the Pope availed himself of the power ascribed to him, toforce the King to compliance, by declaring his country under the ban ofthe Church. 

It is said that, in the midst of the horrible confusion that followedthe death of Charlemagne, the idea of such an expedient had firstarisen. In the Synod of Limoges, the Abbot Odolric had proposed that, till the nobles should cease from their ravages, the churches should bestripped of their ornaments, the mass not be celebrated, no marriagestake place, and the abstinence of Lent be observed. This universalmourning had brought the ferocious nobles to a sense of their guilt, andmore peaceful times had succeeded, so that an interdict was consideredas one of the mightiest weapons in the armory of the Church. 

Only a few years before, Innocent had, by an interdict on the kingdom ofFrance, forced Philippe Auguste to put away Agnes de Meranie, whom hehad married in the lifetime of his lawful wife Ingeberge. Then (if ever)it was properly employed, to enforce morality; but it was a differentthing to lay a whole nation under the ban of the Church merely for adispute respecting an appointment. 

Innocent sent orders to the bishops of London, Ely, and Worcester, topublish the interdict on the Monday of Passion week, 1208 (the secondbefore Easter). They went to the King, and besought him to be reconciledwith the Pope, and avert this dreadful edict. He grew pale with rage, foamed at the mouth, and threatened them furiously; swore at the clergy, drove them from his presence, and issued orders that his officersshould seize, the property of every man who paid any attention to theinterdict. "If you, or any of your body, dare to lay my states underinterdict, I will send you to Rome, and seize your goods; and if I catchone Roman priest in my realms, I will cut off his nose and put out hiseyes, that all may know he is a Roman!"

Nevertheless, on the appointed day it was pronounced by the threeprelates, according to the appointed form. 

At night the clergy assembled, each bearing a torch, and with one voicechanted the _Miserere_, and other penitential psalms and prayers, whilethe church-bells rang out the 'broken funeral-knell. Veils were hungover the crucifixes, the consecrated Wafer of the Host was consumed byfire, the relics and images of the saints were carried into the crypts, and then the bishops, in the violet robes of mourning used on GoodFriday, announced to the frightened multitude, in the name of Heaven, that the domains of John, King of England, were laid under the ban ofthe Church until he should have rendered submission to the Holy See. Every torch was then at once extinguished, in token that the light ofthe Gospel was denied them!

Thenceforth every church was closed; no bell pealed forth, no mass wasoffered, no matins nor vespers were sung. Only the dying were permittedto communicate, but their corpses were laid in the ground with maimedrites; infants were baptized, but their mothers were churched only inthe churchyard, where on Sunday a sermon was preached, and on GoodFriday the cross was carried out and exposed for the veneration of thepeople. 

The monasteries were allowed to carry on their services, on conditionthat they did so with closed doors, admitting no one from without; andthe Cistercian order considered it as their privilege to be exempt, andto open their churches for worship as usual. Neither did the King'sfavorite, Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester, nor De Gray himself, choose to acknowledge the interdict, so that the services continued asusual in their sees, and in many single parishes. These were the onlytwo bishops in England; for the three who proclaimed the interdicthad at once to flee for their lives, and the others, few in number atpresent, soon followed them. De Gray being soon after sent as deputy toIreland, Des Roches was the sole bishop left to all England. 

The King made light of it; and when, in the chase, he killed anunusually fat buck, he said, laughing, "Here is a fellow who hasprospered well enough without ever hearing matins or vespers. " But hewas much enraged; he imprisoned the relatives of the fugitive bishops, and announced himself ready to drive every priest who should obey theinterdict out of the kingdom, to be maintained, as he said, by the Pope. The Archdeacon of Norwich experienced his cruelty for consulting withhis brethren on enforcing it. The Angevin soldiers seized him, andsoldered on his neck a cope of lead, so that he perished in prison underits weight, and from hunger. 

Afterward, however, some terror seized on John, and he ordered hisofficers to allow the bishops enough to provide them two dishes of meateach day, while the secular clergy were to receive as much as should beadjudged needful for their support by four sworn men of their parish. Moreover, the man who, by word or deed, abused any of the clergy, shouldforthwith be hanged upon an oak!

The Pope followed up his interdict by excommunicating John, andabsolving his subjects from their oaths of allegiance, but a strictwatch was kept on the ports, and no one seems ever to have dared to laythe bull before the King. However, its existence was well known, andrendered John very uneasy. He wished to hear what his fate was to be, and his half-brother, William Longsword, brought him a hermit, namedPeter of Wakefield, who told him he would wear his crown no longer thannext Ascension Day. John flew into a rage, and called him idiot-knave;declared that, as idiot, he pardoned him, but, as knave, he imprisonedhim in Corfe Castle, till he should see whether his tale came true. 

The King, to preserve the obedience of the nobles, demanded theirchildren to be kept as hostages. One of those to whom the order came wasWilliam de Braose, Lord of Bramber, in Sussex, and of a wide district inIreland. Herds of the wild white cattle with red ears roamed about hisestate, and his wife is said to have boasted that she could victuala besieged castle for a month with her cheeses, and yet have some tospare. When John's squire, Pierre de Maulac, the hated governor ofCorfe, who was accused of having aided in the murder of Arthur, came todemand her children, the high-spirited lady answered that the King hadnot taken such care of his own nephew as to make her entrust her son tohis keeping. Her husband was alarmed for the consequences of her boldspeech, sent four hundred of the oxen as a present to the Queen, andfled with his wife to Ireland; but in his absence, two years after, Johnmade a progress thither, seized upon her and her children, and sent themback to Corfe, where Maulac, by his orders, starved them all to death inthe dungeons. The eldest son escaped, being with his father in France, where the unhappy Lord of Bramber died of grief on hearing of theirhorrible fate, the most barbarous action which has ever stained thepages of English history. 

Innocent now put forth a bull addressed to the King of France, sayingthat the prelates of Canterbury, London, and Ely, having declared to himthe cruel persecution of the English Church, he had, in presence of hiscardinals, solemnly deposed King John; and in order that a greater andmore noble prince might be summoned to the throne, he granted it toPhilippe Auguste, assuring him that all his efforts to conquer it shouldbe reckoned for the remission of his sins, and that he might transmithis conquests to his descendants. He wrote other letters, desiring theFrench nobles to second their King in their enterprise; and there weremany English who, grieved by the censures of the Church, and sufferingpersonal injuries from their tyrant, were ready to seek aid in a newdynasty. Walter Hubert's doctrine of the most worthy was an unfortunateone for such a king as John, and he began to reap the fruits of it whenplaced in comparison with Louis the Lion, whom, by the marriage with hisniece, Blanche of Castille, he had placed next in succession to his owninfant children. 

Louis collected a fleet and army, and put forth a proclamation; whileJohn forced money from his subjects, robbed the monasteries, andtortured the Jews. One of them, refusing to pay an exorbitant demand of10, 000 marks, was seized, and condemned daily to lose a tooth until heshould consent. He held out seven days, and did not yield up the sumtill he had lost all his double teeth. Scotland and Wales were alsostirred up against him; and though he made a treaty with William theLion, and defeated Llewellyn of Wales, his danger was pressing, and Johnde Gray, the chosen archbishop, is said to have done his best, to putthe Pope in the right, by advising his master to seek the alliance ofthe Emir of Cordova, Mahomet of Nesser, one of the brave, generous, andlearned Moors of Spain, who had it in his power seriously to damageFrance on the southern frontier, and thus make a diversion in his favor. 

Two knights and a clerk, it is alleged, were sent on this mission, proposing to Mahomet to take John under his protection on receiving atribute from him, and he even offered himself and De Gray to becomeMahometans, so as to be rid of Pope and cardinals together. 

The bearers of this base proposal were admitted to the palace. At thefirst door they found soldiers with drawn swords, in the second a bandof nobles, in the third a species of couch guarded by ferocious-lookingwarriors, who opened their ranks and let them approach the Saracenprince. They explained their mission, and gave him the King's letters, which were translated by an interpreter, while they studied the graveand majestic but gentle expression of his countenance. After someminutes' reflection, he thus spoke: "A few moments ago I was reading abook by a Greek sage; who was a Christian, by name Paul, whose wordsand acts please me exceedingly. One thing alone in him displeases me, namely, that, born under the Jewish law, he forsook the faith of hisfathers to adopt a new one. It is the same with your King of England, who, renouncing the religion to which he was born, is bent and mouldedlike wax. I know the Almighty is ignorant of nothing; and, had I beenborn with no religion, I might have chosen the Christian. But tell me, what is the King of England--what are the strength and riches of hisrealm?"

The clerk then spoke: "Our King is born of illustrious ancestors, hisdomains are rich in fertile pastures, forests, and mines; his peopleare mighty and handsome, possessed of sciences, and ruling over threetongues--Welsh, Latin, and French. The English understand all arts, especially mechanics and navigation, and they have gained the title ofIsland Kings. "

"Ah, ha!" said the Moor, smiling; "but how can the prince of so fair akingdom condescend, to offer to give up his freedom, pay tribute, andput himself under subjection? He must be sick. What is his age?"

"Between forty and fifty--strong and healthy. "

"I see how it is! He is losing his youthful spirit!" Then, after asilence, "Your King is nothing; he is only a kinglet growing enfeebledand old. I care not for him; he is unworthy to be united to me. Awaywith you! Your master's infamy stinks in my nostrils!"

The envoys retired in confusion; but the Emir had been struck by theappearance of the clerk, a small, deformed man, with a dark, Jewishface, one arm longer than the other, misshapen fingers, wearing thetonsure and clerical habit; and thinking there must be superiorintelligence to counterbalance so unprepossessing an aspect, he sentfor him in private, and asked him on oath respecting the morals andcharacter of his master. He was obliged to confess the whole truth; andMahomet asked, in surprise, "How can the English allow this cowardlytyrant to misuse them? Are they effeminate and servile?"

"No, indeed, " was the answer, "but they are very patient, until drivento extremity; then, like the wounded lion or elephant, they rise againsttheir oppressor. "

"I blame their weakness, " said the Emir: "they should put an end to thewretch. "

So, obtaining nothing for their master by his plan of apostasy, theenvoys were dismissed, the clerk alone having received a present fromthe Saracen prince, who had been pleased with his ability. While buoyedup by these hopes, John had shown some spirit; he had fitted out afleet, which suddenly crossed the Channel and burnt the French ships atDieppe, and he was at the head of an army of 60, 000 men in Kent. But hedid not trust his own forces, and, on hearing there was no aid to belooked for from Spain, his courage failed, and he was ready, after allhis threats, to make any concession. 

Hubert, Abbot of Beaulieu, the monastery founded by John in expiation ofArthur's murder, was secretly sent with offers of submission, and twoKnights of the Temple arrived at the camp with a message that CardinalPandulfo, the Pope's legate, would fain see the King in private. John consented, and Pandulfo, coming to him at Dover, terrified himdreadfully with the description of the French armament, and thenskilfully talked of the Pope's clemency and forgiveness. This took themore effect that Ascension Day was approaching, and the prediction ofPeter of Wakefield way preying on his mind. 

On the 13th of May, John consented, in the presence of four of hisnobles--the Earls of Salisbury, Boulogne, Warenne, and Ferrars--to atreaty such as had been previously offered to him, receiving Langton, recalling the exiled clergy, and making restitution for the injuriesthey had suffered. This deed was sealed by the King and the four earls, and it seemed as if all were arranged. 

Next day, however, the legate was closeted with the King; and on thefollowing, the eve of the Ascension, 1213, the English were amazed bythe proceedings of the King. 

He repaired to the church of the Temple early in the morning, and therean instrument was read aloud: "Ye know, " it said, in the name of John tohis subjects, "that we have deeply offended our Holy Mother the Church, and that it will be hard to draw on us the mercy of Heaven. Therefore wewould humble ourselves, and without constraint, of our own free will, bythe consent of our barons and high justiciaries, we give and confer onGod, on the holy Apostles St. Peter and St. Paul, on our Mother theChurch, and on Pope Innocent III. And his Catholic successors, thewhole kingdom of England and of Ireland, with all their rights anddependencies, for the remission of our sins; henceforth we hold themas a fief, and in, token thereof we swear allegiance and pay homage inpresence of Pandulfo, Legate of the Holy See. "

John seems to have found no chancellor who would seal the charter of hisshame, but to have had to set the great seal to it himself; thus givingto the Pope, "for the remission of his sins, " the crown which theSaracen had disdained! The cardinal legate seated himself on the vacatedthrone, John knelt at his feet, laid down the crown, and spoke the wordsof allegiance as a vassal, offering money as the earnest of the tribute. Pandulfo indignantly trampled on the coin, in token that the Churchscorned earthly riches; but earthly honors Rome did not scorn, and forfive days the crown remained in the cardinal's keeping. So John wasdiscrowned on Ascension Day, and Peter of Wakefield's prediction wasverified; but it did not save the poor prophet. The vindictive wretch, who pretended to have yielded his throne for the pardon of his sins, caused him and his son to be drawn at the tails of horses, and hanged ongibbets. 

The excommunication was removed, and the hateful John was declared afavored son of the Church, while Pandulfo went to put a stop to theFrench expedition. This was not quite so easy; Philippe Auguste had beenat great expense, and he could not endure to let his enemy escape him;he was the Pope's friend only when it suited him, and he swore that, Pope or no Pope, he would invade England. Ferrand, Count of Flanders, remonstrated and Philippe drove him away in a fury, "By all the saints, France shall belong to Flanders, or Flanders to France!"

So he burst into Flanders, and besieged Ghent. Ferrand sent to Johnfor aid, and the fleet under the command of the earls of Holland andSalisbury utterly destroyed the French fleet at Bruges, on whichPhilippe depended for provisions, so that he was forced to retreat tohis own country. The following year, as he was still in opposition tothe Pope, a league was formed for the invasion of France, between John, his nephew Otho, Emperor of Germany, and many other friends of Innocent, but it only resulted in a shameful defeat at Bouvines, where Philippesignalized his courage and generalship, and John and Otho fled indisgrace. In this battle the Bishop of Beauvais again fought, butthought to obviate the danger of being disavowed by his spiritual fatherby using no weapon save a club. 

In the meantime, Stephen Langton arrived in England, took possession ofhis see, and at Winchester received a reluctant kiss from the King, whobitterly hated the cause of his shame. The Cardinal Archbishop publiclyabsolved the King, and relieved the country from the interdict underwhich it had groaned for five years. 

It is a melancholy history of the encroachments of Rome, and of theatrocious wickedness of the English King; and perhaps the worst featurein the case was that his crimes went unreproved, and that it was onlyhis resistance to the Pope that was punished. The love of temporaldominion was ruining the Church of Rome. 

 CAMEO XXVII. 

 MAGNA CHARTA. (1214-1217. )

 _Kings of England_. 1199. John. 1216. Henry III. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1214. Alexander II. 

 _King of France_. 1180. Philippe II. 

 _Emperor of Germany. _ 1209. Friedrich II. 

 _Popes_. 1198. Innocent III. 1216. Honorius III. 

The first table of English laws were those of Ina, King of Wessex. Alfred the Great published a fuller code, commencing with the TenCommandments, as the foundation of all law. Ethelstane and St. Dunstan, in the name of Edgar the Peaceable, added many other enactments, bywhich the lives, liberties, and property of Englishmen were secured assoundly as the wisdom of the times could devise. 

These were the laws of Alfred and Edward the Confessor, which Williamthe Conqueror bound himself to observe at his coronation, but whichhe entirely set at nought, bringing in with him the feudal system, according to his own harsh interpretation. The Norman barons who ownedestates in England found themselves more entirely subject to the King, who brought them in by right of conquest, than they had been by ancientcustom to their duke in Normandy; and Saxons and Normans alike were newto the strict Forest Laws introduced by William. 

Every king of doubtful right tried to win the favor of the Saxons, asturdy and formidable race, though still in subjection, by engaging togive them the laws of their own dynasty. With this promise William Rufuswas crowned, and likewise Henry I. , who even distributed copies ofthe charter to be kept in the archives of all the chief abbeys, butafterward caused them, it seems, to be privately destroyed. Stephen madethe same futile promise, failing perhaps, more from inability than fromdesign; and after his death the nation was so glad of repose on anyterms, that there were no special stipulations made on the accession ofHenry II. He and his Grand Justiciary, Ranulf de Glanville, governedaccording to law, but it was partly the law of Normandy, partly oftheir own device; the Norman _parlement_ of barons, and the SaxonWittenagemot, were alike ignored. The King obtained sufficient suppliesfrom his own immense estates, and from the fines which he had the powerto demand at certain times as feudal superior, and did in fact obtain atwill, and exact even for doing men justice in courts of law. 

As long as there was an orderly sovereign, such as Henry II. Theunlimited power of the Crown was tolerable; under a reckless, impetuousprince like Coeur de Lion, it was a grievance; and, in a tyrant suchas John Lackland, it became past endurance. His fines were outrageousextortion, and here and there the entries in the accounts show the base, wanton bribery in his court. The Bishop of Winchester paid a tun of goodwine for not reminding the King to give a girdle to the Countess ofAlbemarle; Robert de Vaux gave five of his best palfreys that the Kingmight hold his tongue about Henry Pinel's wife; while a third paid fourmarks for permission to eat. Moreover, no man's family was safe, evenof the highest rank: the death of the Lady of Bramber was fresh inthe memory of all; and Matilda the Fair, the daughter of Robert LordFitzwalter, was seized, carried from her home, and, because she refusedto listen to the suit of the tyrant, her father was banished, hiscastles destroyed, and the maiden, after enduring with constancy twoyears' imprisonment in a turret of the White Tower of London, waspoisoned with an egg. 

The person of whom John stood most in awe, was his Grand Justiciary, Geoffrey Fitzpiers, who, though of low birth, had married the Countessof Essex, and was highly respected for his character and situation. 

One day the King, with his usual imprudence, pointed him out to theProvost of St. Omer. "Seest thou him yonder? Never did one man watchanother as he watches me, lest I should get some of his goods; but asmuch pains as he takes to watch me, so much do I take to gain them. "

Fitzpiers was not out of earshot, and his comment was, "Sir Provost, well did I hear what the King said to thee; and since he is so set on mywealth, he will surely get it; but thou knowest; and he knows, that Ican raise such a storm as he will feel many a day after my death. "

John's fears did not prevent him from imposing a fine of 12, 000 markson Geoffrey, which ended his patience. He entered into an understandingwith the barons, who had just been summoned by John to attend him on hisexpedition against France. They joined him, but sailed no further thanJersey, where they declared that the forty days they were bound to serveby feudal tenure were passed; and all, turning back, met ArchbishopLangton and the Grand Justiciary at St. Albans, where Fitzpierscommenced his retaliation, by proclaiming, in the King's name, the oldSaxon charter of Alfred and Edward, renewed by Henry I. , as well as therepeal of the Forest Laws. 

Back came John in rage and fury, and let loose his free-companions onthe estates of the confederates. At Northampton, Stephen Langton methim, and forbade his violence. "These measures are contrary to youroaths, " he said. "Your vassals have a right to be judged only by theirpeers. "

John reviled him. "Rule you the Church, " he said; "leave me to governthe State. "

Langton left him, but met him again at Nottingham, assuring himthe barons would come to have their cause tried, and threateningexcommunication to every one who should execute the King's barbarousorders. This brought John to terms, and all parties met in London, wherethe Archbishop had a previous conference with the barons, to which hebrought a copy of the Charter, with great difficulty procured from oneof the monasteries. He read it to them, commented on its provisions, andthey ended by mutually engaging to conquer, or die in defence of theirrights as Englishmen. The Norman barons were glad enough so to termthemselves, and to take shelter under English laws. 

But it was the Pope's kingdom now, not that of craven John; and Innocentsent a legate, Nicholas, Cardinal Bishop of Tusculum, to settle theaffair. John debased himself by repeating the homage and oath of fealty, and by giving a fresh charter of submission, sealed not with wax, butwith gold, as if to make it more binding. 

The injuries done to the barons by the free-companions were beyond theKing's power of restitution, but the Pope adjudged him to pay 15, 000marks for the present, after which John set off on his disastrousjourney to Bouvines. In his absence, Fitzpiers died, and this quiteconsoled him for his defeat. "It's well, " he cried; "he is gone to shakehands in hell with our primate Hubert! Now am I first truly a King!"

But Geoffrey's storm was near its bursting, precipitated perhaps bythe loss of this last curb on the lawless King. Langton was seriouslydispleased with the legate, who had taken all the Church patronageinto his hands, and was giving it away to Italians, foreigners, children--nay, even promising it for the unborn. The Archbishop sent hisbrother Simon to appeal to the Pope, but could get no redress. Innocentwas displeased with him for opposing the _protégé_ of the papal see; andcertainly he had no right to complain of the Roman patronage while heheld the see of Canterbury. 

However, he was too much of an Englishman to see his Church or hiscountry trampled down; and at Christmas, 1214, there was anotherassembly of the barons at Bury St. Edmund's. The plans were arranged, and an oath taken by each singly, kneeling before the high altar in thechurch of the royal Saxon saint, that if the laws were rejected, theywould withdraw their oaths of allegiance. 

They set out for Worcester to present their charter to the King, but hegot intelligence of their design, hastened to London, and put himselfunder the protection of the Knights of the Temple. They followed him, and on Twelfth Day laid the charter before him. He took a high tone, andonly insisted on their declaring by hand and seal that they would neverso act again; but finding this was not the way to treat such men, promised, on the security of the Archbishop, the Bishop of Ely, and Earlof Pembroke, to grant what they asked at Easter. 

He used the space thus gained in taking the Cross, that he might enjoythe immunities of a Crusader, fortifying his castles, and sending forfree-companions, while both parties wrote explanations to the Pope. John obtained encouragement, Langton was severely reprehended; Innocentdeclared all the confederacies of the barons null and void, and forbadethem for the future, under pain of excommunication. 

In Easter-week the barons met at Stamford, with 2, 000 knights andtheir squires. Their charter was carried to the King at Oxford by theArchbishop and the Earls of Pembroke and Warenne. They were receivedwith fury. "Why do not they ask my crown at once?" cried John. "Do theythink I will grant them liberties that would make me a slave?"

Then, with more moderation, he proposed to appeal to the Pope, and toredress all grievances that had arisen in his own time or in that of hisbrothers; but they still adhered to their demands, and when Pandulfocalled on the Primate to excommunicate the insurgent barons, Langtonmade answer that he was better instructed in the Pope's views, andunless the King dismissed his foreign soldiers, he should be obliged toexcommunicate them. 

John offered to refer the matter to nine umpires--namely, Innocent, fourchosen by himself, and four by the barons; but this also was rejected:the barons would have no terms short of their Great Charter; andelecting the most injured of all, Robert Fitzwalter, as their general, they marched against Northampton. It was garrisoned by the King'sforeign mercenaries, who refused all attempts to corrupt them; and asthe want of machines made it impossible to take it, the barons proceededto Bedford after fifteen days, their spirits somewhat damped. 

However, Bedford opened its gates, and tidings reached them that Londonwas favorably disposed. They therefore proceeded thither, and arrivedon the first Sunday in June, early in the morning, when the gates wereopened, and the burghers all at mass in the churches. They entered inexcellent order, took possession of the Tower, and thence sent forthproclamations, terming themselves the Army of God and of Holy Church, and calling on every one to join them, under pain of being used astraitors and rebels. 

The whole country responded; scarcely a man, Saxon or Norman, who wasnot with them in spirit; and John, then at Odiham, in Hampshire, foundhimself deserted by all his knights save seven. He was at first indeadly terror; but soon rallying his spirits, he resolved to cajole thebarons, pronounced that what his lieges had done was well done, anddespatched the Earl of Pembroke to assure them of his readiness andsatisfaction in granting their desires: all that was needed was a dayand place for the meeting. 

"The day, the 15th of June; the place, Runnymede, " returned his lovingsubjects. 

The broad, smooth, green meadow of Runnymede, on the bank of the Thames, spreading out fair and fertile beneath the heights of Windsor, became awatchword of English rights. 

The stalwart barony of England, Norman in name and rank, but with Saxonblood infused in their veins, and strength consisting of stout Saxonyeomen and peasantry, there arrayed themselves, with Robert Fitzwalterfor their spokesman and leader; and thither, on the other hand, came, from Windsor Castle, King John, accompanied by Cardinal Pandulfo, Amaury, Grand Master of the Temple, Langton, and seven other bishops, and Pembroke with twelve nobles, but scarcely one of these, except thetwo first, whose heart was not with the barons on the other side. 

The charter was spread forth--the Great Charter, which, in the firstplace, asserted the liberty of the Church of England, and then of itspeople. It forbade the King to exact arbitrary sums from his subjectswithout the consent of a council of the great crown vassals; it requiredthat no man should be made an officer of justice without knowledge ofthe law; and forced from the King the promise not to sell, refuse, ordefer right or justice to any man; neither to seize the person or goodsof any free man without the lawful judgment of his peers, or by the lawof the land. The same privileges were extended to the cities, but theserfs or villeins had no part in them; the nobility of England had notyet learnt to consider them worthy of regard. Much, however, was done bythe recognition of the law, and Magna Charta has been the foundation ofall subsequent legislation in England. A lesser charter was added on theoppressive Forest Laws, which it in some degree mitigated by lesseningthe number of royal forests, and appointing nobles in each county tokeep in check the violence of the King's keepers. 

The original Charter itself, creased with age and injured by fire, butwith John's great seal still appended to it, remains extant in theBritish Museum, a copy beside it, bearing in beautiful old writing inLatin the clear, sharp, lawyer-like terms with which the barons, who, rough and turbulent as they were, must have had among them men of greatlegal ability, sought to bind their tyrant to respect their lives andlands. 

Four-and-twenty of their number, and with them the Mayor of London, wereappointed to enforce the observance of the Charter, which was sent outto the sheriffs in all the counties to be proclaimed by them with soundsof trumpet at the market-crosses and in the churches; while twelve men, learned in the law, were to be chosen to inquire into and re dress allgrievances since the accession. Moreover, every Poitevin, Brabançon, and other free-companion in the King's service was to be immediatelydismissed, and the barons were to hold the city of London, and Langtonthe Tower, for the next two months. 

The Charter was thus sealed, June 15th, 1215; and John, as long as hewas in the presence of the barons, put a restraint on himself, and actedas if it was granted, as it professed to be, of his own free will andpleasure, speaking courteously to all who approached, and treating thematter in hand with his usual gay levity, signing the Charter with solittle heed to its contents that the wiser heads must have gathered thathe had no intention of being bound by them. However, they had achieveda great victory, and, after parting with him, amused themselves byarranging for a tournament to be held at Stamford; while John, whenwithin the walls of Windsor, gave vent to his rage, threw himself on theground, rolled about gnawing sticks and straws, uttering maledictionsupon the barons, and denouncing vengeance against the nation that hadmade him an underling to twenty-five kings. 

On recovering, he ordered his horse, and secretly withdrew to the Isleof Wight, where he saw no one but the piratical fishermen of the place, whose manners he imitated, and even, it is said, joined in some of theirlawless expeditions. At the same time he despatched letters to theBrabançons and Gascons, inviting them to the conquest of England, andpromising them the castles and manors of his present subjects. 

The barons gained some tidings of his proceedings, and were on theirguard. Robert Fitzwalter wrote letters appointing the tournament to beheld, not at Stamford, but on Hounslow Heath, summoning the knightsto it with their arms and horses, and promising, as the prize of thetournay, a she-bear, which the young lady of a castle had sent them. 

To what brave knight the she-bear was awarded, history says not; for inthe midst came the tidings that the Pope had been greatly enraged, hadannulled the Charter as prejudicial to the power of the Church, and hadcommanded the Archbishop of Canterbury to dissolve all leagues among thevassals under pain of excommunication. The barons, having the Archbishopon their side, thought little of the thunders of the Pope; but John wasemboldened to come forth, offer a conference at Oxford, which he did notattend, and then go to Dover to receive the free-companions, who flockedfrom all quarters. 

The barons sent Stephen Langton to Rome to plead their cause, and foundthemselves obliged to take up arms. William de Albini, one of thetwenty-five sureties, was sent to possess himself of the Castle ofRochester; but before he could bring in sufficient stores, he wasinvested by John, with Savary de Mauléon, called the Bloody, and aband of free-companions, whose _noms de guerre_ were equallytruculent--namely, the Merciless, the Murderer, the Iron-hearted. One ofthe archers within the walls bent his bow at the King's breast, and saidto the castellane, "Shall I deliver you from yonder mortal foe?" "No;hold thy hand, " said Albini; "strike not the evil beast; shouldst thoufail, thy doom would be certain. " "Then, betide what God will, I hold myhand!" said the archer. 

For two months these brave men held out, but by St. Andrew's Day theyhad eaten all their horses, and the walls were battered down, so thatAlbini was forced to surrender. John was for hanging the whole garrison, but Mauléon said, "Sir, the war is not over; the chances are beyondreckoning. If we begin by hanging your barons, your barons may end byhanging us. " So Albini and the nobles were spared, but the archers andmen-at-arms were hung in halters to every tree in the forest. 

Meanwhile, the Archbishop had failed at Rome, and partly by his ownfault, for he had tried to make his brother Simon, a man generallydetested, Archbishop of York, and thus had given Innocent good reasonfor again interfering. He was placed under sentence of suspension; thebarons, beginning with Fitzwalter, were excommunicated as rebels againsta Church vassal and Crusader, and termed as wicked as Saracens; and thecity of London was laid under an interdict. 

The Londoners boldly declared that the Pope had no power to meddle intheir case, kept their churches open, and celebrated their Christmas asusual; but beyond their walls it was less easy to be secure. 

John now had two great armies of foreigners, and had been joined byseveral of the barons' party; and he marched with one of them for theNorth, where young King Alexander of Scotland had laid siege to Norham, and had received the homage of the neighboring nobility. 

As John advanced, the barons burnt their houses and corn before him, while he and his marauders ruined all they approached; he every morning, with his own hands, set fire to his night's lodgings, and in eight daysfive principal towns were consumed, and the course of his army was likethe bed of a torrent. 

Vowing he would unkennel the young fox, as he called Alexander, onaccount of his red hair, John sent his troops into Scotland, where theylaid the whole country waste up to Edinburgh, and then, returning, reduced the castles and ravaged the lands of the barons in Yorkshire, and the same dreadful atrocities were perpetrated by his other army inthe south of England, till the country people called the free-companionsby no other name than Satan's Guards, and the Devil's Servants. 

The barons had no stronghold left them but London, and saw their rank, their families, and estates, at the mercy of the remorseless tyrant andhis savage banditti, backed by the support of their spiritual superiors. In this condition they deemed all ties between them and their sovereigndissolved, and, as their last resource, resolved to offer the crownto Louis, the son of Philippe Auguste, and the husband of Blanche ofCastile, the marriage made to separate France from the cause of Arthur. It was a step which even their extremity could not justify, passingover, as it did, the rights of the captive Pearl of Brittany, of John'sown innocent children, and of those of his eldest sister. But men haveseldom been harder pressed than were these barons; and they were furthertempted by the hope that all the mercenaries who were French subjectsmight be detached from the enemy by seeing their own prince's standardunfurled against him. 

Saher de Quincy, Earl of Winchester, and Robert Fitzwalter, weredeputed to carry letters to Prince Louis, who was then at war with theAlbigenses of Languedoc. The wary old King Philippe dissembled hisjoy at the promised triumph over the hated Plantagenet, and at firstdeclared that he could not trust his son's person in England, unlesstwenty-four nobles were first given up to him as hostages; but hepermitted Louis to send a favorable reply to England, and the baronswere so delighted at its reception, accompanied by a few Frenchvolunteers, that they held another tournament in its honor, but this wasclosed by the death of Geoffrey Mandeville, who was accidentally killedby the lance of a Frenchman. 

Innocent was much incensed at the enterprise of the French prince, forgetting that he had already shown him the way to England. He sent hislegate, Gualo, with letters to forbid Philippe's interference with afief of the Holy See, and these were laid before the court in fullcouncil. Philippe, who always tried to have the law apparently on hisside, began by saying he was the devoted subject of the Pope, and it wasby no counsel or advice of his that his son disobeyed the court of Rome;but as he declared that he had some rights to the English crown, it wasfair to hear him. 

A knight then arose, and declared that John had been attainted andcondemned by Philippe's own court on account of Arthur's murder; that hehad since given his crown away without the consent of his barons; and asno sovereign had any such right, the throne was vacant by his own act, and his barons had full power to elect, and Louis to accept. 

The legate declared John to be a Crusader, and therefore under theChurch's peace for four years. He was answered, that John had himselfviolated that peace; and then Louis, rising, and turning to his father, said, "Sir, if I am your liegeman for the lands you have given me here, you have no right to England, which is offered to me: you can decreenothing on that head. I appeal to the judgment of my peers, whether Iought to follow your commands or my rights. I beg you not to hinder mydesigns, for my cause is just, and I will fight to the death for mywife's inheritance. " Then, red with anger, Louis the Lion left theassembly, while the legate asked the King for a safe-conduct to England;and Philippe replied, that on the French territory he was safe enough;but if, on the coast, he fell into the hands of _King_ Louis's men, hecould not be responsible for his safety. 

Gualo, however, came safely to England, and joined John at Dover, wherehe promised him the succor of the Church; and Innocent, as an earnest, excommunicated Louis, and preached to his cardinals on Ezekiel xxi. 28:"The sword, the sword is drawn. " But this was one of the last publicacts of his life; he died at Perugia on the 8th of July, 1216, withouthaving been able to send any support to his obedient vassal. 

Meanwhile, Louis collected a great force, and embarked with it in 680vessels, under the command of Eustace the Monk, a recreant who hadbecome a pirate, and was reckoned the best mariner of his time. Johnfled from Dover, leaving it to the trusty and loyal Hubert de Burgh, while Louis disembarked at Sandwich, and was received by the barons, whowere charmed with his chivalrous and affable demeanor. They conductedhim to London, where, in St. Paul's, he received their homage, and madeoath to govern them by good laws, after which he appointed Simon Langtonhis chancellor. Nearly the whole country gave in their adhesion, Alexander of Scotland paid him homage, the North rose in his favor, andthe chief strongholds that remained to John were Windsor Castle; Corfe, where, under the care of his wicked follower, Pierre de Maulae, were hisqueen and little children; and Dover, gallantly defended by Hubert deBurgh. 

Nearly four months were spent by Louis in a vain attempt to take thisplace; his supplies were cut off by the sailors of the Cinque Ports, whowere in John's interest; and though Louis's father sent him a batteringmachine, called Malvoisine, or "Bad Neighbor, " he could make noimpression on the walls. Meantime, the estates of the barons weredevastated by John and his free-companions; and if ever the Frenchprince retook any of the castles, he retained them in his own hands, orgave them to his French followers, instead of restoring them to theirowners. They began to suspect that they were in evil case, moreespecially when the Vicomte de Melun, being suddenly seized by a mortalsickness, sent for all the nobles then in London, and thus spoke: "Igrieve for your fate. I, with the prince and fifteen others, have swornan oath, that, when the realm is his, ye shall all be beggared, orexterminated as traitors whom he can never trust. Look to yourselves!"

Suspicion thus excited, William Longsword and several other baronsreturned to their allegiance, and forty more offered to do the same onthe promise of pardon. Louis was forced to raise the siege of Dover, andJohn's prospects improved; he took Lincoln, and marched to Lynn, whencehe wont to Wisbech, intending to proceed by the Wash from Cross-keys toFoss-dyke, across the sands--a safe passage at low water, but coveredsuddenly by the tide, which there forms a considerable eddy on meetingthe current of the Welland. 

His troops were nearly all on the other side, when the tide began torush in. They gained the higher ground in safety; but the long train ofwagons, carrying his crown, his treasure, his stores of provision, weresuddenly engulfed, and the whole was lost. Some years since, one of thegold circlets worn over the helmet was found by a laborer in the sand, but, in ignorance of its value, he sold it to a Jew, and it has thusbeen lost to the antiquary. 

King John went into one of his paroxysms of despair at the ruin hebeheld, and, feverish with passion, arrived at the Cistercian conventof Swineshead, where he seems to have tried to forget his disaster ina carouse upon peaches and new ale, and in the morning found himselfextremely ill; but fancying the monks had poisoned him, he insisted onbeing carried in a litter to Sleaford, whence the next day he proceededto Newark, where it became evident that death was at hand. A confessorwas sent for, and he bequeathed his kingdom to his son Henry. As far asit appears from the records of his deathbed, no compunction visited him;probably, he thought himself secure as a favored vassal of the HolySee. When asked where he would be buried, he replied that he committedhimself to God and to the body of St. Wulstan (who had been canonized byInnocent III. In 1203). He dictated a letter to the new Pope, HonoriusIII. , and died October 19, 1216, in the forty-ninth year of his age, thelast and worst of the four rebellious sons of Henry II. , all cut off inthe prime of life. 

His death made a great difference in the aspect of affairs. His innocentsons had forfeited no claim to the affection of the English, and theirweakness was their most powerful claim. 

The Earl of Pembroke at once marched to Corfe Castle, and brought thetwo boys, nine and seven years old, to Gloucester, where young Henry'smelancholy coronation took place. In lieu of his father's lost anddishonored crown, a golden bracelet of his mother's was placed upon hishead by the papal legate, instead of his own primate, and he bent hisknee in homage to the see of Rome. The few vassals who attended him heldtheir coronation banquet, and afterward bound a white fillet aroundtheir heads, in token of their vow of fidelity to their little, helplessking. Magna Charta was revised a few days after at Bristol; Henry wasmade to swear to agree to it, and the Earl of Pembroke appointed as hisprotector. 

Meantime, Louis had received the news of his rival's death while againbesieging Dover, the capture of which was most important to him, assecuring his communications with his own country. He sent tidings of itto the garrison by two English barons, one of them Hubert's own brother, Thomas de Burgh. On their approach the sentinels sounded their horns, and, without opening the gates, the governor came to speak to them, withfive archers, their crossbows bent. They told him of the King's decease, and reminded him of the oath Louis had made to hang him and all hisgarrison if the town were taken by assault instead of surrender. Hisbrother said he was ruining himself and all his family, and the otherknight offered him, in the prince's name, the counties of Norfolk andSuffolk. But Hubert would hear no more. "Traitors that you are, " hecried, "if King John is dead, he leaves children! Say no more; if youopen your lips again, I will have you shot with a hundred arrows, notsparing even my brother. "

Louis was obliged to draw off his forces, returned to London, and tookHertford; Robert Fitzwalter claimed the keeping of the castle as afamily right, but Louis forgot the necessity of conciliating the barons, and replied that he could not trust a man who had betrayed his King. This, of course, led to further desertions on the part of the English, and the truce which prevailed through Lent added greater numbers to theyoung King's party than Blanche of Castile was able to collect in Francefor her lord. 

After Easter the Earl of Pembroke besieged Mountsorrel, inLeicestershire. The Count de Perche came to its relief, and, afterforcing him to retreat, attacked Lincoln Castle, which was bravely heldby the late castellane's widow, Nicolette de Camville. She contrived tosend the Earl tidings of her distress, and he set out from Newarkwith four hundred knights and their squires, two hundred and fiftycrossbowmen and other infantry, all wearing white crosses sewn on theirbreasts, and sent forth by the legate as to a holy war. The crossbowmen, under one of John's free-companions, were a mile in advance, and enteredthe castle by a postern, while the French, taking the baggage for asecond army, retreated into the town; but there the garrison made asally, and a battle was fought in the streets, which ended in the totaldiscomfiture of the French. The Count de Perche was offered his life, but swearing that he would yield to no English traitor, he was instantlyslain, and the Fair of Lincoln, as it was called, completely broke thestrength of Louis. 

He wrote word to his wife and father of his perilous situation, shutup within the walls of London, and the whole country in possession ofHenry, and entreated them to send him reinforcements. Fear of the Popeprevented Philippe from putting himself forward, but he connived atBlanche's exertions, and she succeeded in collecting three hundredknights, who were to embark in eighty large ships, under the command ofEustace the Monk. 

Hubert de Burgh, landsman as he was, resolved to oppose them to theutmost, and with much difficulty collected a fleet of forty ships of allsizes. Several of the knights, believing his attempt hopeless, declaredthat they knew nothing of sea fights, and refused to share his peril; andhe himself was so persuaded that he was sacrificing himself, that hereceived the last rites of the Church as a dying man, and left ordersthat, in case of his being made prisoner, Dover should on no account besurrendered, even as the price of his life. 

Midway in the strait he met the French fleet; his archers showeredtheir arrows and quarrels, and, being on the windward, threw clouds ofquicklime, which blinded the eyes of the enemy; then, bearing down onthem, grappled the ships with iron hooks, and boarded them so gallantly, that the French, little accustomed to this mode of warfare, soon gaveover resistance: many of the ships were sunk, and the rest completelydispersed; the pirate monk Eustace was taken, and, being considered as atraitor and apostate, was put to death, and his head carried on a poleto Dover in triumph. 

This defeat completely broke the hopes of Louis, and he sent to demand asafe-conduct for messengers to Henry, or rather to the Earl of Pembroke, offered to leave England, and concluded a peace, restoring theallegiance of the barons, and even engaging to give up Normandy andAnjou on his accession to the crown of France. He then returned to hisown country, where his father received him affectionately, blaming him, however, for the want of skill and judgment with which he had conductedhis affairs. His departure took place in the end of 1217, and thusclosed the wars which established the Great Charter as the foundation ofEnglish law. 

 CAMEO XXVIII. 

 THE FIEF OF ROME. (1217-1254. )

 _King of England_. 1216. Henry III. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1214. Alexander II. 1249. Alexander III. _Kings of France_. 1180. Philip III. 1223. Louis VIII. 1226. Louis IX. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1209. Friedrich II. 1250. Conrad IV. 

 _Popes_ 1198. Innocent III. 1216. Honorius III. 1227. Gregory IX. 1241. Celestin. IV. 1242. Innocent IV. 

The Fief of Rome! For many years of the reign of Henry III. Englandcould hardly be regarded in any other light. 

Henry's life was one long minority; the guardians of his childhood werereplaced by the favorites of his manhood, and he had neither power norwill to defend his subjects from the bondage imposed on them by hisfather's homage to Innocent III. 

The legates, Gualo and Pandulfo, undertook the protection of thedesolate child, and nominated to the government the excellent William, Earl of Pembroke, Earl Marshal; but on his death, shortly after, theadministration was divided between the justiciaries, Hubert de Burgh, and John's favorite, Peter des Roches, Bishop of Winchester. The latterwas a violent, ambitious, and intriguing prelate, and it was well forEngland and the King when he engaged in a Crusade, and left the field tothe loyal Hubert. 

Under the care of this good knight Henry grew up devoid of the vices ofhis father, with more of the Southern troubadour than of the Northernwarrior in his composition, gentle in temper, devout of spirit, tenderof heart, well-read in history and romance, skilled in music and poetry, and of exquisite taste in sculpture, painting, and architecture, Hubertmust have watched his orphan charge with earnest hope and solicitude. 

Gradually, however, there was a sense of disappointment; years wentby, and Henry of Winchester was a full-grown man, tall and wellproportioned, his only blemish a droop of the left eyelid; but nowarlike, no royal spirit seemed to stir within him; he thought not ofaffairs; he left all in the hands of his justiciaries, and, so long asmeans were given him of indulging his love of splendor, he recked not ofthe extortions by which the Italian clergy ruined his country, and hadno idea of taking on him the cares and duties of royalty. 

His young Queen encouraged all his natural failings. She was one of thefour daughters of Beranger, last Count of Provence, highly accomplishedyoung heiresses. One of them already was wedded to Louis IX. , the sonof Louis the Lion, who, by the death of his father and grandfather, hadbeen placed on the throne of France nearly at the same age and timeas Henry in England. Marguerite, whose device, the daisy, Louis woreentwined with his own lily, was a meek, peaceful lady, submittingquietly to the dominion exercised over her by Queen Blanche, hermother-in-law. Eleanor, the next sister, was the beauty and geniusof the family; she was called La Belle, and, at fourteen, composed aromance in rhyme on the adventures of one Blandin, Prince of Cornwall, which was presented to King Henry's brother, Richard, Earl of Cornwall, when, on returning from pilgrimage, he passed through Provence. 

Richard was struck with her beauty, and spoke of it to his brother, who, against the wishes of De Burgh, offered her his hand. Richard soon aftermarried Sancha, another of the sisters, and Beatrix, the fourth, was thewife of Charles, Count of Anjou, brother of Louis IX. The two queensseem to have been proud of their dignity, for they used to make theircountess sisters sit on low stools, while they sat on high chairs. Sancha and Beatrix pined to see their husbands kings, and in time hadtheir wish. Four uncles followed Queen Eleanor, young brothers of hermother, a princess of Savoy. They were gay and courtly youths, and theKing instantly attached himself to them, and lavished gifts and honorsupon them, among others, the palace in London still called the Savoy. 

Another tribe of his own relations soon followed. His mother's firstlove, Hugh de Lusignan, Count de la Marche, had been released fromdurance at Corfe Castle in 1206, and had offered his aid to John, oncondition of the infant Joan, the child of his faithless Isabelle, beingat once betrothed to him and placed in his own hands. Lodging her inone of his castles in Poitou, he went on a crusade, and, on his return, found her but seven years old, but her mother a widow, beautiful asever, and still attached to him. They were at once married, and Joanwas sent home to England, where she became the wife of Alexander II. OfScotland, and his sister, the Princess Margaret, was at the same timewedded to Hubert de Burgh. 

The Lusignans were an old family, who had given a King to Jerusalemand a dynasty to Cyprus; but they were a wild race, and a fairy legendaccounted for their family character. 

Raymond de Lusignan, a remote ancestor, met, while wandering in aforest, a maiden of more than mortal beauty, named Melusine, and, falling at once in love, obtained her hand, on condition that he shouldnever ask to behold her on a Saturday. Their marriage was happy, excepting that all their children had some deformity; but at last, in afit of curiosity, Raymond hid himself, in order to penetrate intohis lady's secret, and, to his dismay, perceived that from the waistdownward she was transformed into a blue-and-white serpent, anenchantment she underwent every Saturday. For years, however, he neverdivulged that he had seen her in this condition; but at length, when hiseldest son, Geoffrey (who had a tusk like a wild boar), had murdered hisbrother, he forgot himself in a transport of grief, and called her anodious serpent, who had contaminated his race. Melusine fainted at thewords, lamented bitterly, and vanished, never appearing again except asa phantom, which flits round the Castle of Lusignan whenever any of herdescendants are about to die. 

In this haunted castle the Queen contrived to gain a reputation forsorcery and poisoning, and the connection brought no good on her royalson, for she involved him in a war with France on behalf of her husband. He met with no success, and his French domains were at the mercy ofLouis IX. ; but that excellent prince would not pursue his advantage. "Our children are first cousins, " he said; "we will leave no seeds ofdiscord between them. " He even took into consideration the justice ofrestoring Normandy and Anjou, but concluded that they had been justlyforfeited by King John. 

Four young Lusignans, or, as they were generally called, De Valence, were sent by Isabelle to seek their fortune at the court of theirhalf-brother, who bestowed on them all the wealth and honors at hisdisposal; and gave much offence to the English, who beheld eight needyforeigners preying, as they said, upon the revenues. 

Feasts and frolics, songs, dancing, and pageantry, were the order of theday; romances were dedicated to the King, histories of strange feats ofchivalry recited, the curious old lays of Bretagne were translated andpresented to him by the antiquarian dame, Marie. Italian, Provençal, Gascon, Latin, French, and English, were spoken at the court, which theEnglish barons termed a Babel, and minstrels of all descriptions stoodin high favor. There was Richard, the King's harper, who had fortyshillings a year and a tun of wine; there was Henry of Avranches, the"archipoeta, " who wrote a song on the rusticity of the Cornishmen, to which a valiant Cornishman, Michael Blampayne, replied in a Latinsatire, politely describing the arch-poet as having "the legs of asparrow, the mouth of a hare, the nose of a dog, the teeth of a mule, the brow of a calf, the head of a bull, the color of a Moor!" There waspoor Ribault the troubadour, whose sudden madness had nearly been fatalto Henry. Imagining himself the rightful King, he rushed at midnightinto a chamber he supposed to be the King's, and was tearing the bed topieces with his sword, when Margaret Bisset, one of the Queen's ladies, who was sitting up reading a book of devotions, heard the noise; rousedthe guard, and he was secured. There, too, was the half-witted jester, who, we are sorry to say, was a chaplain, with whom the King and hisbrother Aymer were seen playing like boys, pelting each other withapples and sods of turf. 

The King was fond of ornamenting his palaces with curious tapestryand jewelry, worthy of the wedding-gift his wife had received from hersister, Queen Marguerite, namely, a silver ewer for perfumes, in theshape of a peacock, the tail set with precious stones. He adorned thewalls with paintings; there were Scripture subjects in his palace atWestminster; and at Winchester, his birthplace, were pictures ofthe Saxon kings, a map of the world, and King Arthur's round table, inscribed with the names of the knights, and Arthur's full-length figurein his own place. It has survived all changes; it was admired by aSpanish attendant at the marriage of Philip II. And Queen Mary; it wasriddled by the balls of the Roundheads, and now, duly refreshed withpaint, hangs in its old place, over the Judge's head in the County Hall. 

To do Henry justice, he spent as freely on others as on himself; heclothed and fed destitute children; and when in his pride, at the goodlyheight of his five-year-old boy, he caused him and his little sisters tobe weighed, the counterpoise was coined silver, which was scattered inlargesse among his lieges. 

Henry's special devotion was to a Saxon saint, the mild Confessor, towhom his own character had much likeness, and whose name he bestowed onhis eldest child, while he presented a shrine of pure gold tocontain his relics, and devoted £2, 000 a year to complete the littleWest-Minster of St. Peter's, the foundation and last work of St. Edward. He rendered it a perfect specimen of that most elegant of allstyles, the early-pointed, and fit indeed for the coronation church andburial-place of English kings. 

There was soon an end of Henry's treasure, however; and no wonder, when, besides his own improvidence, the Pope was sucking out the revenuesof the country. _Talliages_, of one tenth or one-twentieth of theirproperty, were demanded of the clergy; the tax of a penny, usuallycalled Peter-pence, was paid to him by every family on St. Peter's Day, and generally collected by the two orders of begging friars, who rodeabout on this errand in boots and spurs, and owning the rule of no onebut the Pope, were great hindrances to the bishops and parish clergy. Still worse was the power the Pope assumed to himself of seizing onChurch patronage, and thrusting in Italian clergy, often children orincapable persons, and perfectly ignorant of the language. At one time7, 000 marks a year were in possession of these foreigners, one of whomheld seven hundred places of preferment at once!

Innocent IV. , who was chiefly guilty of these proceedings, was engagedin a long struggle with Frederick II. Of Germany, respecting the kingdomof the two Sicilies, and the Guelf and Ghibelline struggle foreverraging in Italy, and it was this apparently remote quarrel which was inreality the cause of the oppression and simony that so cruelly affectedEngland. 

The English bitterly hated the foreign clergy, and quarrels were foreverbreaking out. When Otho, the legate, was passing through Oxford, andlodging at Osney Abbey, a terrible fray occurred. The students, astrange, wild set, came to pay him their respects; but his porter, beingafraid of them, kept them out, and an Irish priest, pressing forward tobeg for food, had some scalding water thrown in his face by the clerk ofthe kitchen, the brother of the legate, who, used to Italian treachery, entrusted to no one the care of his food. A fiery Welsh scholar shotthe legate's brother dead with an arrow, and a great riot ensued. Otholocked, himself up in the church-tower till night, then fled, throughfloods of rain, hunted by the students, all yelling abuse, and gettingbefore him to the fords, so that the poor man had to swim the river fivetimes, and came half dead to the King at Abingdon. Next morning thescene was changed. Earl Warenne and his bowmen came down upon Oxford, forty of the rioters were carried off in carts like felons, interdictsand excommunications fell on the university, and only when doctors, scholars, and all came barefoot to ask the legate's pardon, was theanger of the Pope appeased. 

Moreover, there was a widespread confederation among the gentryagainst these Italians, and rioters arose and plundered their barns, distributing the corn to the poor. 

Walter do Cantilupe, the young Norman Bishop of Worcester, was thoughtto be among those in the secret, and the outrages grew more serious whenan Italian canon of St. Paul's was seized and impressed by five men inmasks. Des Roches, the Bishop of Winchester, who had returned home, and was very jealous of Hubert de Burgh, thought this a fit time foroverthrowing him, and publicly accused him of being in the plot. A youngknight, Sir Robert Twenge, came forward and confessed that he had beenthe leader of the rioters under the name of Will Wither, and that thegood old justiciary had nothing to do with them. He was sent to dopenance at Rome, and Hubert's enemies continued their machinations. 

Henry and his Queen were tired of the sage counsels of the brave knight, and open to all Des Roches' insinuations, forgetting the wise thoughpunning warning of the wonderful Franciscan friar, Roger Bacon, who toldHenry there was nothing so dangerous in a voyage as "_les Pierres et lesRoches_. " At Christmas, the Bishop invited them to Winchester, and therehis sumptuous banquets and splendid amusements won the King's frivolousheart, and obtained his consent to dismiss Hubert from all his offices, even from the government of Dover, which he had saved. Soon afterorders were sent forth for his arrest, that he might be tried for thedisturbances against the Italians, and likewise for having seduced theKing's affections by sorcery and witchcraft. 

Hubert placed his wealth in the care of the Templars, and took sanctuaryin the church of Merton, in Surrey; but the Mayor of London was orderedto dislodge him, and the whole rabble of the city were setting forth, when the Archbishop and Earl of Chester represented the scandal to theKing, and obtained letters of protection for him until the time for histrial, January, 1233. Trusting to these letters, he set out to visit hiswife at Bury, but at Brentwood was waylaid by a set of ruffians calledthe Black Band, and sent by the Bishop of Winchester. He retreated intothe church, but they dragged him from the very steps of the altar, andcalled a blacksmith to chain his feet together. 

"No, indeed, " said the brave peasant, "never will I forge fetters forthe deliverer of my country. "

However, he was led into London with his feet chained under his horse. There the Bishop of London, threatening excommunication for thesacrilege, forced his enemies to return him to Brentwood church, which, however, they closely blockaded till hunger forced him to deliverhimself up to them. 

He bought his life by giving up his treasures, and was imprisoned atDevizes. Shortly this castle was given to Des Roches; and De Burgh, whoknew by experience how the change of castellane often brought death tothe captive, sought to escape. He gained over two of his guards, whocarried him to the parish church, for he was too heavily ironed towalk, and there laid him down before the altar. They could take him nofurther, and the warden of the castle cruelly beat him, and broughthim back; but, as before, the Bishop maintained the privileges of thesanctuary, and forced the persecutors to restore him, and though he wasagain hemmed in there by the sheriff, before he was starved out a partyof his friends came to his rescue, and he was carried off to the Welshhills, there remaining till recalled by the influence of the Archbishop. He was restored to his honors, and though he once again had to sufferfrom Henry's fickleness and the rapacity of his court, his old age waspeaceful and honored, as befitted his unsullied fame. 

This Archbishop was Edmund Rich, who had been elected in 1232, after twoshort-lived primates had succeeded Langton. He was of a wealthy family atAbingdon, and had been brought up entirely by an excellent mother, hisfather having retired into a monastery. His whole childhood had been apreparation for holy orders, and when he went to study at Oxford, heled a life of the strictest self-denial, inflicting on himself all therigorous discipline which he hoped would conduce to a saintly life. Whenhe had become a teacher in his turn, such was his contempt for money, that, when his pupils paid him, he would sprinkle it with dust, and say, "Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, " and would let it lie in the window, without heeding whether any was stolen. When, shortly after, madetreasurer of Salisbury, he kept an empty dish by his side at meals, andput into it what he denied himself, sending it afterward by his almonerto the sick poor. He was a constant reader of the Scriptures day andnight, always kissing the holy volume before commencing, and thus hederived the judgment and firmness which enabled him to battle with theevils of his day. 

Gifts were especially held in scorn and contempt by him. He was wontto say, that between _prendre_ and _pendre_ there was but one letter'sdifference; and in a court so full of corrupt and grasping clergy, thisgave him untold power. 

Peter des Roches was the head of these, representing King John's formerpolicy, and uniting himself with the young Gascon relations of the King, who were wont to say, "What are English laws to us?"

The family of Pembroke, Earls Marshal of England, were especiallyobnoxious to this party, as resolute supporters of Magna Charta, and ofmuch power and influence. William, the eldest son of the late Protector, was married to Eleanor, the King's sister. He died early, and this partytried to deprive his brother Richard of his inheritance; then, when thisdid not succeed, Des Roches wrote letters in the King's name to some ofthe Norman-Irish nobles, offering them all his lands in that island, provided they would murder him, ratifying these promises with the greatseal. 

The assassins stirred up the Irish to attack Pembroke's castles, so asto bring him to Ireland; they then pretended to join with him in puttingdown the rebellion, and, in the midst, waylaid him, and attacked himwhile riding with a few attendants. Some of these he ordered at once toconvey his young brother to a place of safety, and gallantly defendedhimself, but his horse was killed, and he was stabbed in the back; hisservants, returning, carried him home to his castle, but there theletter purporting to be from the King was shown him, and his grief wasso great that he would not permit his wounds to be dressed, and died ina few hours. 

Archbishop Edmund procured letters exposing this black treachery, andread them before the whole court. Henry and all present burst intotears, and the poor careless King confessed with bitter grief that hehad often allowed Des Roches to attach his seal to letters withoutknowing their contents, and that this must have been one of them. DesRoches was dismissed, and sent to his own diocese, where he soon afterdied at his castle of Farnham. He was the founder of many convents, several in Palestine, and others in his own diocese, among which wasNetley, or Letley (_Laeto Loco_), near Southampton, a beautiful specimenof the pointed style. 

Edmund could not prevent the King from intruding on the see ofWinchester the giddy young Aymar de Valence, already Bishop-designate ofDurham. "If my brother is too young, I will hold the see myself, " saidthe King. 

Every attempt Edmund made to repress the grievous evils that prevailedwas frustrated by the authority of Rome. 

The imperial family of Hohenstaufen were held in the utmost hatred bythe Popes; and Frederick II. , being likewise King of Naples and Sicily, was an object of great dread and defiance. Fierce passions on eitherside were raging, and Innocent IV. Regarded his spiritual powers ratheras weapons to be used against his foe the Emperor, than as given him forthe salvation of men's souls. 

As a warrior, he needed money: it was raised by exactions on the clergy, going sometimes as far as demanding half their year's income; as headof a party, he needed rewards for his friends, and bestowed beneficeswithout regard to the age, the character, or the fitness of the nominee;moreover, he trusted to the religious orders, especially those calledMendicant, for spreading his influence, and he did not dare to restrainor reform their disorders. 

Archbishop Edmund, with his two friends, Robert Grosteste, Bishop ofLincoln, and Richard Wych, Chancellor of Canterbury, did their best. Robert's history is striking. He was a nameless peasant of Suffolk, ofthe meanest parentage, and only called Grosteste from the size of hishead, needing plenty of stowage (says Fuller) for his store of brains. How he obtained education is not known, but he worked upward until hebecame a noted teacher at Oxford, and afterward at Paris, where helectured on all the chief authors then known in Greek and Latin. Hewrote two hundred books, many on sacred subjects, and several poemsin Latin and French; for he was a great lover of minstrelsy, and hiscontemporary translator tells us that

 "Next his chamber, besyde hys study Hys harper's chamber was thereby. "

This poet and scholar was a most active, thorough-going, practical man, and, when chosen as Bishop of Lincoln, showed his gratitude for thebenefits of his education by maintaining a number of poor studentsat the University. He set himself earnestly to reform abuses in hisdiocese, forcing the monasteries which held the tithes of parishes toprovide properly for their spiritual care, and making a strict inquiryinto the condition of the religious houses. They, however, appealed toRome; and Innocent, who had at first sanctioned his proceedings, wasafraid of losing their support, and ordered Grosteste to desist. Theresolute Bishop set off to Rome, and laid the Pope's own letters beforehis face. 

"Well, " said Innocent, "be content; you have delivered your own soul. IfI choose to show grace to these persons, what is that to you?"

Robert was anything but content, but he went home, and manfullystruggled with the evils that were rife, sometimes prevailing, sometimesdisappointed, always honest and steadfast. The more gentle Archbishopgave up the contest, worn out by the vain attempt to preserve purityand order between the fickle King, the oppressive Pope, the turbulentnobles, and the avaricious clergy. Orders to him, to Robert, and to theBishop of Salisbury, to appoint no one to a benefice till three hundredItalians were provided for, seemed finally to overpower him; he, withRichard Wych, secretly left London, and arrived at Pontigny, where, three years after, he died, in 1142, and has been revered as a saint. 

Canterbury remained vacant for several years, the revenues beingabsorbed by the King, and the refractory chapter tailing upon themto quarrel with Grosteste, and going so for as to excommunicate him;whereupon the sturdy Bishop trod the letter under foot, saying, "Suchcurses are the only prayers I ask of such as you. "

After three years the King appointed to Canterbury the Queen's uncle, Boniface of Savoy, a man of no clerical habits; but the Queen wrote apersuasive letter, by which she obtained the consent of Innocent. 

So many monstrous demands had been made by the Pope, that, in 1245, the nobles sent orders to the wardens of the seaports to seize everydespatch coming from Rome, and they soon made prize of a great number oforders to intrude Italians into Church patronage. Martin, the legate, complained to the King, who ordered the letters to be produced, but thebarons took the opportunity of laying before the King a statement of thegrievances of the Church of England, 60, 000 marks a year being in thehands of foreigners, while the whole of the royal revenue was but20, 000. Henry could only make helpless lamentations, and, under pretextof a tournament, the Barons met at Dunstable, and sent a knight toexpostulate with the legate. This envoy threatened him, that if heremained three days longer in England, his life would not be safe--anintimation which drove him speedily from the country. 

The barons, hearing that the Pope was holding a council at Lyons, sentdeputies thither, with a letter drawn up by the Bishop of Lincoln, sopowerfully enforced by William de Powerie, their spokesman, that theexposure of the enormities permitted in England called up a deep blushon the face of Innocent, and he allowed that he had been wrong inthrusting in these incompetent Italians. There was one good effectedat this council, namely, the appointment of Richard Wych to the see ofChichester. 

Richard was the son of a Worcestershire yeoman, and was early, with hiselder brother, left an orphan. He was a studious, holy, clerkly boy, looked on as fit for the cloister: but when his brother came of age, it was found that the guardians had so wasted their goods, that theirinheritance lay desolate. The brother was in despair, but young Richardcomforted him, bade him trust in God, and himself laying aside thestudies he delighted in, look up the spade and axe, and workedunceasingly till the affairs of the homestead were in a flourishingstate. Then, when prosperity dawned on the elder brother, the youngerobtained his wish, and went to study at Oxford, where he was so poorthat he and two other scholars had but one gown between them, livedhard, and allowed themselves few pleasures; but this he was wont to callthe happiest time in his life. 

Afterward he went to Bologna, and, after seven years there, returned, and was made Chancellor, first of Oxford, and afterward of Canterbury. There was a most earnest attachment between him and St. Edmund, whomhe followed into his exile. The Bishop whom the King had appointed toChichester was examined by Grosteste, and found deficient in theology, and the chapter and Pope agreed in choosing Richard Wych, who wasconsecrated by Innocent himself. Henry, in displeasure, took all thetemporalities of the see into his hands, and for a year Richard livedat the expense of a poor parish priest named Simon, whom he strove torequite by working in his garden, budding, grafting, and digging, as hehad once done for his brother. 

He went about his diocese visiting each parish, and doing his work likethe early bishops of poorer days, and all the time making his suit tothe King to do him justice; but whenever he went to Westminster, meetingonly with jests and gibes from the courtiers. 

The Pope was too busy to attend to him. That council at Lyons had endedin sentence of deposition upon Frederick, and the combat raged in Italytill his death, when Innocent, claiming Sicily as a fief of the Church, offered it, if he could get it, to Richard, Earl of Cornwall, who hadtoo much sense to accept such a crown. 

It then was offered to Henry for his son Edmund, whom he arrayed in therobes of a Sicilian prince, and presented to the barons of England, asking for men and money to win the kingdom. Not a man of them, however, would march, or give a penny in aid of the cause, and therefore Innocentraised money from the Lombard merchants in the name of the King ofEngland. 

No wonder Henry could not pay. His own household had neither wages, clothes, nor food, except what they obtained by purveying--in their caseonly a license to rob, since no payment was ever given for the goodsthey carried off. His pages were gay banditti, and the merchants, farmers, and fishers fled as from an enemy when the court approached;yet, at each little transient gleam of prosperity, the King squanderedall that came into his hands in feasting and splendor, then grasped atChurch revenues, tormented the Jews, laid unjust fines on the Londoners, or took bribes for administering justice, and all that he did wasimitated with exaggeration by his half-brothers, uncles, and favorites. 

His chancellor, Mansel, held seven hundred benefices at once, andso corrupted the laws, that one of the judges pronounced the sourcepoisoned from the fountain. Another chancellor was expelled from thecourt for refusing to set the great seal to a grant to one of theQueen's uncles of four-pence on every sack of wool, and at one timeEleanor herself actually had the keeping of the seal, and when theLondoners resisted one of her unjust demands, she summarily sent theLord Mayor and Sheriffs to the Tower. 

Isabel Warenne, the King's cousin, and widow of the Earl of Arundel, anexcellent and charitable lady, still young, came to the King's court toseek justice respecting a wardship of which she had been deprived. Shespoke boldly to Henry: "My Lord, why do you turn your face from justice?Nobody can obtain right. You are placed between God and us, but yougovern neither yourself nor us. Are you not ashamed thus to trample onthe Church, and disquiet your nobles?"

"What do you mean, lady?" said the King. "Have the great men of Englandchosen you for their advocate?"

"No, sir, " said the spirited lady; "they have given me no such charter, though you have broken that which you and your father have granted andsworn to observe. Where are the liberties of England, so often granted?We appeal from you to the Judge in heaven!"

All Henry could say, was, "Did you not ask me a favor because you weremy cousin?"

"You deny my right; I expect no favor, " and, so saying, Isabel left him. 

After two years, Richard of Chichester was permitted to assume thetemporalities of his see, and most admirably he used them, doing everykindness to the poor in his diocese, and always maintaining the right, though more gently than his friend at Lincoln. Those were evil days, andmen's sense of obedience and sense of right were often sorely divided. Richard died in the year 1253, after a short illness, in which he wasattended by his friend Simon, leaving the memory of his peaceful, charitable life, much beloved in his diocese, and was shortly aftercanonized. "Show us the Father, and it sufficeth us, " were among hislast words. 

The champion Robert Grosteste had one more battle to fight ere followinghis two saintly brethren. 

He was wont always to compare each bull which he received with theGospels and the canon law, and if he found anything in it that would notstand this test, he tore it in pieces. In 1254, one of these letterscommanded him to institute to a benefice a nephew of the Pope, a merechild, besides containing what was called the clause "_non obstante_"(namely, in spite of), by which the Pope claimed, as having power tobind and loose, to set aside and dispense with existing statutes andoaths, at his pleasure. 

Grosteste wrote an admirable letter in reply. He said most truly, "Onceallowed, this clause would let in a flood of promise-breaking, boldinjustice, wanton insult, deceit, and mutual distrust, to the defilementof true religion, shaking the very foundations of trust and security;"and he also declared that nothing could be more opposed to the preceptsof our Lord and His apostles, than to destroy men's souls by deprivingthem of the benefits of the pastoral office by giving unfit persons thecare of souls. He therefore absolutely refused to publish the bull, orto admit the young Italian to the benefice. 

Innocent flew into a passion on reading the letter. "What meaneth thisold dotard, surd and absurd, thus to control our actions? Did not ourinnate generosity restrain us, I would confound him, and make him aprodigy to all the world!"

One of the Spanish cardinals, however, spoke thus: "We cannot dealharshly with such a man as this. We must confess that he speakethtruth. He is a holy man, of more religious life than any of us; yea, Christendom hath not his equal. He is a great philosopher, skilled inGreek and Latin, a constant reader in the schools, preacher in thepulpit, lover of chastity, and hater of simony. "

Authorities are divided as to whether the Pope was persuaded tolay aside his anger, or not. Some say that he sent off sentence ofsuspension and excommunication; others, that he owned the justice ofGrosteste's letter. It made little difference to the good Bishop, wholay on his deathbed long before the answer arrived. He spoke much of thetroubles and bondage of the Church, which he feared would never beended but by the edge of a blood-stained sword, and grieved over thefalsehood, perfidy, and extortion, that were soiling his beloved Church;and thus he expired, uplifting his honest testimony both in word anddeed, untouched by the crimes of his age. 

Innocent IV. Did not long survive him, and there is a remarkable storyof the commencement of his last illness. He dreamt that the spirit ofRobert Grosteste had appeared, and given him a severe beating. Thedelusion hung about him, and he finally died in the belief that he waskilled by the blows of the English Bishop. 

Sewel, Archbishop of York, had the same contest with Rome. ThreeItalians walked into York cathedral, asked which was the Dean's seat, and installed one of their number there; and when the Archbishop refusedto permit his appointment, an interdict was laid on his see, and he diedunder excommunication, bearing it meekly and patiently, and his flockfollowing his funeral in weeping multitudes, though it was apparentlyunblest by the Church. 

These good men had fallen on days of evil shepherds, and lamentable wasthe state of Europe, when men's religious feelings were perverted tobe engines for exalting the temporal power of the popedom, and theirministers, mistaking their true calling, were struggling for an absoluteand open dominion, for which purity, truth, meekness, and everyattribute of charity were sacrificed. 

 CAMEO XXIX. 

 THE LONGESPÉES IN THE EGYPTIAN CRUSADES. (1219-1254. )

 _King of England. 1216. Henry III. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1214. Alexander II. 1249. Alexander III. 

 _Kings of France_. 1180. Philip III. 1223. Louis VIII. 1226. Louis IX. 

 _Emperors of Germany. _ 1209. Friedrich II. 1259. Conrad IV. 

 _Popes. _ 1216. Innocent III. 1227. Honorius III. 1241. Gregory IX. 1241. Celestin IV. 1242. Innocent IV. 

The crusading spirit had not yet died away, but it was often diverted bythe Popes, who sent the champions of the Cross to make war on Europeanheretics instead of the Moslems of Palestine. 

William Longespée, the son of Fair Rosamond, was, however, a zealouscrusador in the East itself. He had been with Coeur de Lion in the HolyLand, and in 1219 again took the Cross, and shared an expedition led bythe titular King of Jerusalem, a French knight, named Jean de Brienne, who had married Marie, the daughter of that Isabelle whom Richard I. Hadplaced on the throne of Jerusalem. Under him, an attempt was made tocarry the war into the enemy's quarters, by attacking the Saracens inEgypt, and with a large force of crusaders he laid siege to Damietta. The reigning Sultan, Malek el Kamel, marched to its relief, andencamping at Mansourah, in the delta of the Nile, fought two severebattles with doubtful success, but could not assist the garrison, who, after holding out for fifteen months, at length surrendered. The unhappycity was in such a state from the effects of hunger and disease, thatthe Christians themselves, suffering from severe sickness, did not dareto enter it, till the prisoners, as the price of their liberty, hadencountered the risk of cleansing it and burying the dead. 

Even then they remained, encamped outside, and Kamel continued to watchthem from Mansourah, where he built permanent houses, and formed hiscamp into a town, while awaiting the aid of the natural defender ofEgypt, the Nile, which, in due time arising, inundated the wholeChristian camp, and washed away the stores. The troops, already reducedby sickness, were living in a swamp, the water and mud ankle-deep, andwith currents of deeper water rushing in all directions, drowning theincautious; while want and disease preyed upon the rest, till Jean deBrienne was obliged to go and treat with the Sultan. When receivedcourteously in the commodious, royal tent at Mansourah, the contrast tothe miseries which his friends were enduring so affected him, that heburst into a fit of weeping, that moved the generous Kamel at once, without conditions, to send as a free gift a supply of provisions to hisdistressed enemies. A treaty was then concluded, by which the crusadersrestored Damiotta, after having held it for eight months, and wereallowed every facility for their departure. 

Though hardy, patient and enterprising as a crusader, Longespée waslawless and unscrupulous, and paid no respect to the ordinances ofreligion, neither confessing himself nor being a communicant; while hiswife, the lady Ella, Countess of Salisbury in her own right, continued adevout observer of her duties. 

Soon after his return from Egypt, Longespée, in sailing from Gascony toEngland, was in great danger, from a storm in the Bay of Biscay of manydays' continuance, and so violent, that all the jewels, treasure, andother freight, were thrown overboard to lighten the vessel. In theheight of the peril, the mast was illuminated, no doubt by that strangeelectric brightness called by sailors "St. Elmo's Light, " but which, tothe conscience-stricken earl, was a heavenly messenger, sent to convertand save him. It was even reported that it was a wax-light, shelteredfrom the wind by a female form of marvellous radiance and beauty, atwhose appearance the tempest lulled, and the ship came safely to land. 

The Countess Ella availed herself of the impression thus made upon herhusband to persuade him to seek the ghostly counsel of St. Edmund Rich, then a canon of Salisbury; and the first sight of the countenance ofthe holy man at once subdued him, so that he forsook his evil ways, devoutly received the rites so long neglected, and spent his fewremaining years in trying to atone for his past sins. 

In 1226, he was taken suddenly ill at a banquet given by Hubert deBurgh, and being carried home, sent for the Bishop of Salisbury, RichardPoer, who found him in a high fever; but he at once threw himself fromhis bed upon the floor, weeping, and crying out that he was a traitor tothe Most High: nor would he allow himself to be raised till he had madehis confession, and received the Holy Eucharist. 

He died a few days subsequently, and was buried at Old Sarum, whencehis tomb was afterward removed to the cathedral at Salisbury, where hiseffigy lies in the nave, in chain armor, with his legs crossed as acrusader. The Countess Ella founded a monastery at Laycock, where shetook the veil. Her eldest son, William Longespée, succeeded to theCastle of Sarum, but afterward offended the King by quitting the realmwithout the royal license, for which breach of rule Henry III. Seizedhis possessions, and he remained a knight adventurer. In this capacityhe followed his cousin, Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Cornwall, who tookthe Cross in 1240. 

By this time, Yolande, the daughter of Jean de Brienne, had carried herrights to her husband, Frederick II. , Emperor of Germany, the object ofthe bitter hatred of the Popes, who had thwarted him in every way, whenhe himself led an expedition to Palestine, and now, since the conquestsof the crusaders would go to augment his power, would willingly havechecked them. Gregory IX. Strove to induce the English party to commutetheir vow for treasure, but they indignantly repelled the proposal, andset forth, under the solemn blessing of their own bishops. In France, they were received with great affection by Louis IX. , and with muchenthusiasm by the people; so that their progress was a triumph, tillthey came to Marseilles, where they embarked, disregarding a prohibitionfrom the Pope which here met them. 

At Acre, they were received by the clergy and people in solemnprocession, chanting, "Blessed is he that cometh in the Name of theLord;" and high were the hopes entertained that their deeds wouldrival those of the last Richard Plantagenet and William Longespée. ButRichard, though brave and kindly-tempered, was no general; Palestinewas in too miserable a condition for his succor to avail it, and all hecould do was to make a treaty, and use his wealth to purchase freeingress to the holy places for the pilgrims; and, without himself enteringJerusalem, he returned home. He took with him as curiosities two Saracendamsels, trained to perform a dance with each foot, on a globe ofcrystal rolling on a smooth pavement, while they made various gracefulgestures with their bodies, and struck together a couple of cymbals withtheir hands. 

This was the whole result of the Crusade, for the treaty was set atnaught by the Templars and Hospitallers, who called him a boy, andrefused to be bound by his compact. In 1245, William Longespée againtook the Cross under a very different leader. 

In the previous year, Louis IX. , King of France, had been attacked by anillness of such severity that his life was despaired of; and at one timea lady, who was watching by his bed, thought him actually dead, and wasabout to cover his face. He soon opened his eyes, and, stretching outhis arms, said, "The light of the East hath shined on me, and called meback from the dead, " and he demanded the Cross, and at once took thevow for the deliverance of the Holy Sepulchre. To part with so just andexcellent a monarch on an expedition of such peril was grief and miseryto his subjects, and, above all, to his mother, Queen Blanche, and everymeans was taken to dissuade him; but he would neither eat nor drink tillthe sign was given to him; and as soon as he had strength to explainhimself, declared that he had, while in his trance, heard a voice fromthe East, calling on him, as the appointed messenger of Heaven, toavenge the insults offered to the Holy City. His mother mourned as forhis death, his counsellors remonstrated, his people entreated; butnothing could outweigh such a summons, and his resolution was fixed. The Bishop of Paris saying that the vow was made while he was not fullymaster of his senses, he laid the Cross aside, but only to resume it, soas to be beyond all such suspicion. 

The Crusade was preached, but it had now become a frequent practice, ofwhich Henry III. Was a lamentable example, lightly and hastily toassume the Cross in a moment of excitement, or even as a means of beingdisembarrassed from troublesome claims by the privileges of a Crusader, and then to purchase from the Pope absolution from the vow. It hadbecome such an actual matter of traffic, that Richard of Cornwallpositively obtained from Gregory IX. A grant of the money thus raisedfrom recreant Crusaders. The landless William of Salisbury, going to thePope, who was then at Lyons, thus addressed him: "Your Holiness seesthat I am signed with the Cross. My name is great and well known: it isWilliam Longespée. But my fortune does not match it. The King of Englandhas bereft me of my earldom, but as this was done judicially, not out ofpersonal ill-will, I blame him not. Yet, poor as I am, I have undertakenthe pilgrimage. Now, since Prince Richard, the King's brother, who hasnot taken the Cross, has obtained from you a grant to take money fromsuch as lay it aside, surely I may beg for the like--I, who am signed, and yet without resource. "

He obtained the grant, and thus raised 1, 000 marks, while Richard ofCornwall actually gained from one archdeacon £600, and in proportionfrom others. 

Louis, for three years, was detained by the necessity of arrangingmatters for the tranquillity of his own kingdom, and not till the Fridayin Whitsun-week, 1248, was he solemnly invested at St. Denis with thepilgrim's staff and wallet, and presented with the oriflamme, thestandard of the convent, which he bore as Count of Paris. His twobrothers, Robert Comté d'Artois, and Charles Comte d'Anjou, and his wifeMarguerite of Provence, accompanied him, together with a great numberof the nobility, among whom the most interesting was the faithful andattached Sieur de Joinville, Seneschal of Champagne, who has left us aminute record of his master's adventures. 

They sailed from Aigues Mortes, August 25th, 1248, and Joinvillereflected that he could not imagine how a man in a state of mortal sincould ever put to sea, since he knew not, when he fell asleep at night, whether morning would not find him at the bottom of the sea. On comingnear the coast of Barbary, Joinville's ship seems to have been becalmed, for it continued for three whole days in view of the same roundmountain, to the great dismay of the crew, until a _preux d'homme_priest suggested, that in his parish, in cases of distress, such asdearth, or flood, or pestilence, processions chanting the Litany weremade on three Saturdays following. The day was Saturday, and the crewacted on his advice, making the procession round the masts, even thesick being carried by their friends. The next day they were out of sightof the mountain, and on the third Saturday safely landed at Cyprus. Herethe Crusaders remained for eight months, since Egypt was the intendedpoint of attack, and they wished to allow the inundation of the Nile tosubside. At length, in the summer of 1249, they arrived before Damietta, which was even better fortified than when it had previously held out forfifteen months; but it now surrendered, after Fakreddin, the Mamelukecommander, had suffered one defeat under its walls, and the Christiansentered in triumph. Here Louis made an unfortunate delay, while waitingfor reinforcements brought by his brother Alfonse, Comte de Poitiers. 

To the rude and superstitious noblesse, a Crusade appeared a certainmeans of securing salvation, as indeed the clergy led them to believe;and this belief seemed to remove all restraint of morality from theill-disposed, so that the pure and pious King was bitterly grieved bythe license which he found himself unable to restrain. Much harm wasdone by the excess in which the troops indulged while revelling in theplunder of Damietta. The prudent would have reserved the stores therelaid up for time of need, but old crusaders insisted on "the good oldcustom of the Holy Land, " as they called it, namely, the distribution oftwo-thirds among the army; and though the King ransomed some portion, the money did as much harm in promoting revelry as the provisionsthemselves. 

Longespée arrived, with 200 English knights; but the small band ofEnglish and their landless leader met with nothing but contumely fromtheir allies, especially the King's brother, Robert Comte d'Artois, ahaughty and impetuous youth. The English took a small castle on the roadto Alexandria, where one of the Saracen Emirs had placed his harem. Itwas reported that Longespée had acquired a huge treasure there, andRobert insulted him to his face, and deprived him of his just share ofthe spoil. Longespée, complained to the King; but Louis could give himno redress. "You are no King, if you cannot do justice, " said William. 

Louis meekly suffered the reproach. He had, in his submission, made overhis judgment and authority to the papal legates--men far less fit thanhe to exercise power--and matters went chiefly as they and his fierybrothers chose to direct. Wiser counsellors recommended securing theother seaport, Alexandria; but Prince Alfonse declared, that the onlyway to kill a snake, was to strike the head, and persuaded the councilthat the move should be upon Grand Cairo, or, as the Crusaders chose tocall it, Babylon. 

On November 25th, 1249, the army advanced, and the conjuncture shouldhave been favorable, for the Sultan was just dead, and his son absentat Damascus; but nothing could have been worse concerted than theexpedition--ill-provisioned, without boats to cross the canals, withoutengines of war, the soldiery disorganized; while the Mameluke force werepicked soldiers, recruited from the handsomest Circassian children, bredup for arms alone, and with an _esprit de corps_ that rendered them aterror to friend and foe almost down to our own times. They harassed theChristians at every step, and destroyed their machines, and terrifiedthem excessively by showers of Greek fire, a compound of naphtha andother combustibles launched from hollow engines, which ignited as ittraversed the air, and was very hard to extinguish. 

The Franks regarded it with a superstitious horror, as a fiendishmystery, and compared it to a fiery dragon with a tail as long as alance; but it did not actually cause many deaths, and they met with noserious disaster till they came to the canal of Aschmoum, which flowedbetween them and Mansourah. They tried to build a causeway across it, but their commencement was destroyed by the Greek fire, and a Bedouinoffered, for 500 bezants, to show them a ford on the Shrove Tuesdayof 1250. Robert d'Artois begged to lead the vanguard, and secure thepassage of the rest; and when the King hesitated to confide so importanta charge to one so rash and impetuous, he swore on the Gospels that, when he should have gained the bank on the other side, nothing shouldinduce him to leave it till the whole army should have crossed. The Kingconsented, but placed the command in the hands of the wise Guillaumede Sonnac, Grand Master of the Templars, who, with his knights, theHospitallers, Longespée and the English, and Robert's own band, formed abody of 1, 400. 

The Saracens who guarded the ford were taken by surprise, and fled inconfusion; and the Christians, mounting the bank, beheld the inhabitantsand garrison of Mansourah hurrying away in terror. 

The temptation made the impetuous prince forget his promises, and he wasdashing forward in pursuit, when the Grand Master tried to check him, byrepresenting that, though the enemy were at present under the influenceof panic terror, they would soon rally, and that the only safety for theI, 400 was to wait, with the canal in their rear, until the rest of thearmy should have crossed; otherwise, as soon as their small numbershould be perceived, they would infallibly be surrounded and cut off. 

The fiery youth listened with scorn and impatience. "I see, " cried he, "that it is well said, that the Orders have an understanding with theInfidel! They love power, they love money, and so will not see the warended. This is the way that so many crusading princes have been servedby them. "

"Noble Count, " said Pierre de Villebride, the Grand Master of St. John, trying to calm him, "why do you think we gave up our homes and tookthese vows? Was it to overthrow the Church and lose our own souls? Suchthings be far, far from us, or from any Christian. "

But De Sonnac would not parley; he called to his esquire, "Spread widethe Beauséant banner. Arms and death must decide our honor and fate. Wemight be invincible, united; but division is our ruin. "

Longespée interposed. "Lord Count, " said he, "you cannot err in followingthe counsel of a holy man like the Grand Master, well tried in arms. Youngmen are never dishonored by hearkening to their elders. "

"The tail! that smacks of the tail!" exclaimed the headstrong Robert. 

[Footnote: On Thomas á Becket's last journey to Canterbury, Raoul deBroc's followers had cut off the tails of his pack-horses. It was a vulgarreproach to the men of Kent that the outrage had been punished by thegrowth of the same appendage on the whole of the inhabitants of thecounty; and, whereas the English populace applied the accusation to theKentishmen, foreigners extended it to the whole nation when in a humor forinsult and abuse, such as that of this unhappy prince. ]

"Count Robert, " rejoined William, "I shall be so forward in perilto-day, that you will not even come near the tail of my horse. "

With these words they all set out at full gallop, Robert's old deaftutor, Sir Foucault de Nesle, who had not heard one word of theremonstrance, holding his bridle, and shouting, "_Ores à eux! ores à, eux!_" They burst into the town, and began to pillage, killing theSaracen Emir Fakreddin, as he left his bath; but in the meantime, Bendocdar, another Mameluke chief, had rallied his forces, threw a troopbetween them and the ford, and thus, cutting them off, attacked them inthe streets, while the inhabitants hurled stones, boiling water, andburning brands from above. 

Separated and surprised as they were, the little band sold their livesdearly, forgot their fatal quarrels, and fought as one man from teno'clock till three. Robert entrenched himself in a house, defendedhimself there for a long time, and finally perished in its ruins. Longespée was killed at the head of his knights, who almost all fellwith him; and his esquire, Robert de Vere, was found with his bannerwrapped around his dead body. Only thirty-five prisoners were made, among them Pierre de Villebride. Sonnac, after having lost a hundredand eighty of his knights, fought his way through with the loss of aneye. 

The King had, in the meantime, crossed the canal, and grievous was hisdisappointment on finding that the Saracens were between him and hisbrother. Every effort was made to break through to the rescue, but invain; and at one moment Louis himself was in the utmost danger, findinghimself singly opposed to six Saracens, whom, however, he succeeded inputting to flight. With difficulty could his forces even maintain theirfooting on the Mansourah side of the canal, and it was not till aftera long and desperate conflict that there was time to inquire for themissing. The Prior de Rosnay came to the royal tent, to ask whetherthere were any tidings of the Count, "Only that he is in Paradise, " saidthe King. "God be praised for what He sends to us. " And he lifted up hiseyes, while the tears flowed down his cheeks. 

It was believed, in England, that the Countess Ella of Salisbury had onthat day a vision of her son received into Paradise. 

The bon Sieur de Joinville had his part in the brave deeds of the day:he, with the Comte de Soissons and four other knights, guarded a bridgeagainst a mighty force of Saracens. "Seneschal, " cried the Count, "letthis canaille roar and howl; you and I will yet talk of this day in ourlady's chamber. "

And Joinville fought on cheerfully, though twice dismounted, and ingreat danger. But he kept up his heart, crying out, "Beau Sire, St. James, help me, and succor me in my need!" and he came off safely, though pierced with five arrows, and his horse with fifteen wounds. 

The following day was a doubly sorrowful Ash-Wednesday in the Christiancamp; while the Mussulmans triumphed, calling the battle of Mansourahthe key of joy to true believers; and fancying, from the fleur-de-lys onthe surcoat, that the corpse of Robert was that of Louis himself, theyproclaimed throughout their camp, "The Christian army is a trunk withoutlife or head!"

They learnt their error on the Friday, when they made a furious attackon the Crusaders, and Louis's valor made itself felt, as he dashedthrough showers of arrows and of Greek fire, and drove back the enemy asthey were surrounding his brother Charles. His other brother, Alfonse, was for a moment made prisoner, but being much beloved, the butchers, women, and servants belonging to the army, suddenly rushed forward andrescued him. The Grand Master of the Templars lost his other eye, andwas soon after killed; and though the Christians claimed the victory, their loss was so severe, especially in horses, that it was impossibleto advance to Cairo, and they therefore remained encamped beforeMansourah. 

Nothing more fatal could have been done: the marshy ground, the numberof dead bodies that choked the stream, the feeding on fish that hadpreyed upon them--for the Lenten fast prevented recourse to solidfood--occasioned disease to break out--fever, dysentery, and a horribledisorder which turned the skin as black and dry (says Joinville) as anold boot, and caused great swelling and inflammation of the gums, sothat the barbers cut them away piecemeal. 

The Saracens let them alone, only now and then launching volleys ofGreek fire. The King, on seeing these coming, would kneel down, and cry, "Lord, spare my people!" But worse enemies were at work. Warrior afterwarrior succumbed to his sufferings, and the clergy, going about amongthe dying, caught the infection, till there were hardly sufficient toperform the daily offices of religion. Joinville rose from his bed tolift up his chaplain, who, while singing mass, fainted on the step ofthe altar. Supported in his arms, he finished the mass, but, says theSeneschal, "he never chanted more. "

Patiently and steadfastly all was borne: the Christians repentedof their late license, and suffered without murmurs, desertion, orsubmission, encouraged by their good King, who spent his time in goingfrom one bed to another to encourage the sick, attend to their wants, and offer his prayers with them. He was vainly entreated not to exposehimself to the infection. But love and duty equally led him among hispeople, and his sad, resigned face never failed to cheer the sufferers, till he too was laid on a bed of sickness. 

Easter came, but famine was added to their miseries, and those who wererecovering from illness died of hunger. The new Sultan, Touran Chah, orAlmoadan, had at length arrived, and Louis tried to negotiate with him, offering to surrender the town of Damietta, provided Jerusalem wereplaced in his hands. The Sultan would have agreed, but required hostages, and, when Louis offered his two brothers, refused any guarantee but theperson of the King himself. With one voice the French knights vowed thatthey would all be killed rather than make a pledge of their King, and theproject was ineffectual. 

Louis now resolved to attempt to retreat in secret, and on the 5th ofApril he collected as many boats as possible upon the canal, there bynight to embark the sick, that they might ascend the Nile to Damietta. Those who yet had strength to fight were to go by land; and he, thoughvery ill, refused to desert his army, and resolved to accompany them. Inthe midst of the embarkation the Saracens discovered what was going on, and fell upon them, shooting arrows at the sick as they were carried onboard. They hurried the vessels off, notwithstanding loud cries from theland army of "Wait for the King! wait for the King!"--for the Frenchsoldiery only longed to see their King in safety; but he came not, andthey pushed off. Before long the Sultan's galleys met them with suchshowers of Greek fire, that Joinville, one of those unfortunate sick, declares that it seemed as if all the stars were falling. Soon theywere boarded by the enemy; Joinville gave himself up for lost, threwoverboard all his relics, lest they should be profaned, and prayedaloud; but a Saracen renegade who knew him, came up to him, and bycalling out, "The King's cousin!" saved his life, and that of a littleboy in his company. All who seemed capable of paying a ransom were madeprisoners; the rest had the choice of death or apostasy, and too manychose the last. 

The rest of the army fared no better by land. Louis had mounted hishorse, though so weak that he could not wear his armor, and rode amongthe knights, who strove to cut their way through the foe. The two goodknights, Geoffroi de Sargines and Gautier de Chatillon rode on each sideof him, and, as he afterward said, guarded, him from the Saracens as agood servant guards his master's cup from flies. They were obliged tosupport him in his saddle after a time, so faint and exhausted did hebecome; and at last, on arriving at a little village named Minieh, Sargines look him from his horse, and laid him down just within a house, his head on the lap of a Frenchwoman whom he found there, and watchedover him, expecting each breath to be the last. 

Chatillon defended the entrance, rushing each moment on the Saracens, and only resting to draw out the arrows with which he was covered. Atlast he was overcome by numbers, and slaughtered; and another knight, Philippe de Montfort, making his way to the King, who had somewhatrevived, told him that five hundred knights remained in full force, and, with his permission, he could make good terms. Louis consented, and theSaracen Emir was in the act of concluding a truce, when a traitor criedout, "Sir French knights, surrender! the King bids you! Do not cause himto be slain!" They instantly laid down their arms unconditionally, andthe Emir, whose ring had been already off his finger, looking round, said, "We make no truce with prisoners. "

All was thus lost. The Saracens entered the village, and finding theKing, loaded him with chains, and placed him on board a vessel. Hisbrothers were likewise taken, and even the knights who were far advancedon the way to Damietta, on hearing of their monarch's captivity, droppedtheir arms, and became an easy prey. The crosses and images of theSaints were trodden under foot and reviled by the Mussulmans, and theprisoners, when all those of importance had been selected, were placedin an enclosure, and each man who would not deny his faith was beheaded. 

The news of the ruin of the army and the captivity of her husbandreached Queen Marguerite at Damietta, where she was daily awaiting thebirth of an infant. Her despair and terror were such, that her life wasin the utmost danger, and nothing soothed her except holding the hand ofan old knight, aged eighty years, who did his utmost to calm her. If sheslept for a few moments, she awoke starting, and fancying the room wasfull of Saracens, and the old knight had to assure her that he wasthere, and she need fear nothing. Once she sent every one else out ofthe room, and, kneeling down, insisted that he should make oath to dowhat she should require of him. It was, that, should the enemy take thecity, he would sweep off her head with his sword, rather than let herfall into their hands. "Willingly, " said the old knight. "Had you notasked it of me, I had thought of doing so. "

The morning after, a son was born to her, and named Jean Tristan, onaccount of the sadness that reigned around. On that very day word wasbrought to her that the Genoese and Pisans, who garrisoned the town, were preparing their vessels to depart. The poor Queen sent for theirleaders, and as they stood round her bed, she held up her new-born babe, and conjured them not to desert the town and destroy all hopes for theKing. They told her that they had no provisions: on which she sentto buy up all in the town, and promised to maintain them at her ownexpense; thus awakening sufficient compassion and honor to make thempromise at least to await her recovery. Her first pledge of hope wasa bulbous root, on which, with a knife, had been cut out the word"_Espérance_, " the only greeting the captive King could send to her. Nowonder that plant has ever since borne the well-omened name. 

Louis, meanwhile, was carried by water to Mansourah, where he lay veryill, and only attended by one servant and two priests. A book of Psalmsand the cloak that covered him were the sole possessions that remainedto him; but with unfailing patience he lay, feebly chanting the Psalms, never uttering one word of complaint, and showing such honor to theoffice of the priests, that he would not endure that they should performfor him any of the services that his helplessness required. Nor did hemake one request from his enemies for his own comfort; though TouranChah, struck with his endurance, sent to him a present of fifty robesfor himself and his nobles; but Louis refused them, considering that towear the robes of the Saracen would compromise the dignity of his crown. The Sultan next sent his physician, under whose care his health began toreturn, and negotiations were commenced. The King offered as his ransom, and that of his troops, the town of Damietta and a million of bezants;but the Sultan would not be contented without the cities of theCrusaders in Palestine, Louis replied that these were not his own; andwhen Touran Chah threatened him with torture or lifelong captivity, hisonly reply was, "I am his prisoner; he can do as he will with me. "

His firmness prevailed, and the Sultan agreed to take what he offered. Louis promised the town and the treasure, provided the Queen consented;and when the Mahometans expressed their amazement at a woman beingbrought forward, "Yes, " he said, "the Queen is my lady; I can donothing without her consent. "

The King ransomed all his companions at his own expense, and there wasgeneral rejoicing at the hopes of freedom; but, alas! the Sultan, TouranChan, was murdered by his own Mamelukes, who hunted him into the river, and killed him close to the ship where Joinville had embarked. They thenrushed into the vessels of the Christians, who, expecting a massacre tofollow, knelt down and confessed their sins to each other. "I absolve you, as far as God has given me power, " replied each warrior to his brother. Joinville, seeing a Saracen with a battle-axe lifted over him, made thesign of the Cross, and said, "Thus died St. Agnes. " However, they wereonly driven down into the hold, without receiving any hurt. 

Louis was in his tent with his brothers, unable to account for thecries he heard, and fearing that Damietta had been seized, and that theprisoners were being slain. At last there rushed in a Mameluke with abloody sword, crying, "What wilt thou give me for delivering thee froman enemy who intended thy ruin and mine?"

Louis made no answer. 

"Dost thou not know, " said the furious Mameluke, "that I am master ofthy life? Make me a knight, or thou art a dead man. "

"Make thyself a Christian, " said the undaunted King, "and I will makethee a knight. "

His calm dignity overawed the assassin; and though several others camein, brandishing their swords and using violent language, the sight ofthe majestic captive made them at once change their demeanor; they spokerespectfully, and tried to excuse the murder; then, putting their handsto their brow, and salaaming down to the ground, retired. They soundedtheir drums and trumpets outside the tent, and it is even said theydeliberated whether to offer their crown--since the race of Saladin wasnow extinct--to the noble Frank prince. Louis had decided that he wouldaccept it, in hopes of converting them, but the proposal was never made. 

The Mamelukes returned to the former conditions of the treaty with theKing, but, when the time came for making oaths on either side for itsobservance, a new difficulty arose. The Emirs, as their most solemndenunciation, declared that, "if they violated their promises, theywould be as base as the pilgrim who journeys bareheaded to Mecca, or asthe man who takes back his wives after having put them away. "

In return, they required the King to say that, if he broke his oath, heshould be as one who denied his religion; but the words in which thiswas couched seemed to Louis so profane, that be utterly refused topronounce them. 

The Mahometans threatened. 

"You are masters of my body, " he said, "but you have no power overmy will. " His brothers and the clergy entreated in vain, though theMamelukes, fancying that his resistance was inspired by the latter, seized the Patriarch of Jerusalem, an old man of eighty, and tied him upto a stake, drawing the cords so tight round his hands that the bloodstarted. 

"Sire, sire, take the oath!" he cried; "I take the sin upon myself. "

But Louis was immovable, and the Emirs at last contented themselves withhis word, and retired, saying that this was the proudest Christian thathad ever been seen in the East. 

They knew not that his pride was for the honor of his God. 

On the 6th of May, Geoffroi de Sargines came to Damietta, placed theQueen and her ladies on board the Genoese vessels, and gave up the keysto the Emirs. 

The King was, on this, set free, but his brother Alfonso was to remainas a hostage till the bezants were paid. The royal coffers at Damieltacould not supply the whole, and the rest was borrowed of the Templars, somewhat by force; for Joinville, going to their treasurer in hisworn-out garments and his face haggard from illness, was refused thekeys, till he said "he should use the royal key, " on which, with aprotest, the chests were opened. 

Philippe de Montfort managed to cheat the Mamelukes of 10, 000 bezants, and came boasting of it to the King; but Louis, much displeased, senthim back with the remaining sum. 

The King then embarked, still in much anxiety whether the Emirs wouldfulfil their engagements and liberate his brother; but, late at night, Montfort came alongside of the vessel, and called out, "Sire, speak toyour brother, who is in the other ship!"

In great joy Louis cried, "Light up! light up!" and the signals of thetwo princes joyfully answered each other in the darkness. 

The King sailed for Acre, and after some stay there, finding that hisweakened force could effect nothing, and hearing that the death of hismother, Queen Blanche, had left France without a regent, he returnedhome, and landed 5th of September, 1254, six years after his departure. 

The Countess Ella and her son Nicholas, Bishop of Salisbury, raised aneffigy to William like that of his father, and the figures of the fatherand son lie opposite to each other in the new cathedral founded byBishop Poore. 

 CAMEO XXX. 

 SIMON DE MONTFORT. 

 (1232-1266. )_King of England. _ 1216. Henry III. 

 _Kings of Scotland. _ 1214. Alexander II. 1249. Alexander III. 

 _Kings of France. _ 1226. Louis IX. 

 _Emperor of Germany. _ 1209. Friedrich II. 1249. Conrad IV. 1255. William. 

 _Popes. _ 1227. Gregory IX. 1241. Celestin IV. 1242. Innocent IV. 1254. Alexander IV. 1261. Urban IV. 

The lawlessness of John Lackland led to the enactment of Magna Charta;the extravagance of Henry of Winchester established the power ofParliament, and the man who did most in effecting this purpose was aforeigner by birth. 

Amicia, the heiress of the earldom of Leicester, was the wife of Simon, Count de Montfort, an austere warrior, on whom fell the choice ofInnocent III. To be leader of the so-called crusade against theunfortunate Albigenses. Heretics indeed they were; but never before hadthe sword of persecution been employed by the Church, and their fate isa grievous disgrace to Rome, and to the Dominican order. Strict in life, but of cruel temper, Count Simon was a fit instrument for the massacrescommitted; and being a leader of great skill, he gained completevictories over the native princes of the heretics, who, though notholding their opinions, were unwilling to let them perish withoutprotection. Raymond de St. Gilles Count de Toulouse, Gaston Count deBéarn, and all the most famous names of the south of France, took uparms in their defence; and even Pedro, King of Aragon, joined, theconfederacy; but at the battle of Muret all were totally defeated, andPedro lost his life. 

The nobles were imprisoned, the peasants murdered by wholesale, villagesburnt down and the inhabitants slain, with out distinction of Catholicor heretic, and all the time the followers of Montfort deemed themselvesreligious men. The Lateran Council actually invested Simon with thesovereignty of the counties of Toulouse and Carcassonne; but he wasextremely hated there, and Count Raymond, recovering his liberty, attacked him, and regained great part of his own dominions. Montfort wasbesieging the town of Toulouse, when, while hearing mass, intelligencewas brought to him that the garrison were setting fire to his machines. He rose from his knees, repeating the first verse of the Song of Simeon, and rushing out to the battle, was struck on the head by a stone from amangonel on the walls, and killed on the spot, June 25, 1218. He was aremarkable type of that character fostered by the system of the MiddleAges, where ambition and cruelty existed side by side with austeredevotion, and were encouraged as if they did service to Heaven. 

His second son, Simon, had the same strong sense of religion, togetherwith equal talents, and unusual beauty of person, skill in arms, andwinning grace of deportment. The elder son, Amaury, was the heir ofthe county of Montfort, and for some time Simon remained landless, theearldom of Leicester having been forfeited on account of the adherenceof the family to the party of Louis the Lion in the wars that followedthe signing of Magna Charta. 

In 1232, however, young Simon came to England to attempt the recovery ofhis mother's inheritance, and his graceful manners and Southern tongueat once delighted Henry III. Another heart was at the same time gained;the King's sister, Eleanor, who had been left a widow at sixteen by thedeath of the brave Earl of Pembroke, had, in her first despair, made avow of perpetual widowhood, and received the ring of dedication from theArchbishop; but at the end of six years all this was forgotten; shefell in love with the handsome Provençal, and prevailed on the King tosanction with his presence a hasty private wedding in St. Stephen'sChapel. 

For some time the marriage remained a secret, and when it became known, great was the indignation alike of clergy and laity. The Barons evencollected troops, and headed by Richard, the King's brother, whom theycalled the Staff of Fortitude, assembled at Southwark, and dreadfullyalarmed the poor King; but Montfort, who always possessed a great powerover men's minds, managed to reconcile himself to Prince Richard, and todisperse the other nobles. Still, the Archbishop termed it no marriageat all, and Simon therefore set out at once for Rome, carrying lettersfrom Henry, and raising money by every means in his power, till he wasable to offer a sufficient bribe to obtain from the Pope a dispensation, with which he returned to England a few days before the birth of hiseldest child, Henry. 

Simon was now in high favor; the Barons, who at first looked on him asone of the hated Southern adventurers, were gained over by his addressand adoption of their manners; and when, by the royal favor and theformal cession by his brother Amaury, he obtained the earldom ofLeicester, they readily identified him with themselves. At court he washighly beloved; his children were constantly at the palace; and in 1239, when Edward, heir of the crown, was baptized, he was one of the ninegodfathers--an honor, perhaps, chiefly owing to his wealth, for this wasat one of the times when Henry's finances were at so low an ebb thathe, or his messengers, made the birth of the child an excuse for theirrapacity. Each noble to whom the tidings were sent was obliged to make acostly gift; and if he did not offer enough, his present was returned onhis hands with intimation that it must be increased. "God has given usthis child, " said a jester; "the King sells him to us. "

Montfort's English popularity seems suddenly to have rendered the fickleKing jealous; for, to his great surprise, on the day of the churchingof the Queen, Henry suddenly met him, and forbade him to join in theservice, reviling him furiously for the circumstances of his marriage, and ordering him at once to leave his dominions. Returning with his wifeto his lodgings, he was at once followed by messengers, ordering themboth away; and before sunset he was obliged to embark with Eleanor in asmall vessel, leaving behind them their infant son. 

He placed his wife in safety in France, and proceeded to the Holy Land, where he highly distinguished himself, and, as usual, gained every one'saffection, so that the Barons of Palestine would fain have had himfor their leader in the absence of their young Queen Yolande and herhusband, Friedrich II. Of Germany. 

King Henry had forgotten his displeasure by the time he returned, andthe next ten years were spent in peace by the Earl and Countess, attheir castles of Kenilworth and Odiham, and the government of Gascony. Their five sons were brought up as the playfellows of their royalcousins, and were under the tutorship of the great Robert Grosteste, while the noble and magnificent earl stood equally well with sovereignand people. His chaplain, Adam de Marisco, seems to have been anadmirable man, who never failed to administer suitable reproofs to theCountess for love of dress and other failings, all which she seems tohave taken in good part. 

Meantime Henry was plunging deeper in debt and difficulty. Every timehis council met they charged him with breaches of the Great Charter, andrefusing, in spite of his promises and pleas, to grant him any money, left him to devise means of obtaining it by extortion. The Jews hadalways been considered a sort of lawful property of the sovereign, who plundered them without remorse; but even this resource was notinexhaustible, and he looked with covetous eyes on the prosperouscitizens of London. Once, when he was in great distress, and it wassuggested to him to pawn to them his plate and jewels, he broke outpassionately: "If the treasures of Augustus were put up to sale, theseclowns would buy them. Is it for them to assume the style of Barons, and live sumptuously, while we are in want of the necessaries of life?"Thenceforth he made still more unscrupulous demands of the citizens, under the name of New-Year's gifts, loans, &c. ; and Queen Eleanor hadeven less consideration, so that their Majesties became the objects ofthe utmost hatred in the city. 

In 1252 the Earl of Leicester was summoned from Gascony to answervarious charges of maladministration. His brother-in-law, PrinceRichard, took his part, with the two great Earls of Gloucester andHereford, and it was reported that he had pledged the Gascons by asolemn oath not to make any complaint of his government. At any rate, they declared their intention of withdrawing their allegiance if he weresuperseded, and he himself refused to resign his post unless he wererepaid the sums he had expended. 

"I am not bound to keep my word with a traitor, " said Henry--words whichput Simon into a passion, and he replied:

"It is a lie! and whoever said so, I will compel to eat his words. Whocan believe you to be a Christian prince? Do you ever go to confession?"

"A Christian I am; I have often been to confession. "

"Vain confession, without repentance and reparation!"

"I repent of nothing so much, " cried the King, "as having fattened onewho has so little gratitude and so much ill manners. "

The friends of Simon checked further reply. Henry's wrath was like strawon fire; but he forgot that by it he lighted a flame more enduring, though at first less visible; and he was vexed when the offendedMontfort removed his eldest son, Henry, from court. However, Gascony waswanted as a government for Prince Edward, who was only thirteen yearsold, and therefore Leicester was forced to resign, though he would notdo so without full compensation, such as Henry was ill able to afford. Yet, affronted as he was, when the office of high steward of France wasoffered to him, he would not accept it, by the advice of Grosteste, lesthe should seem unfaithful to his master. 

To carry Prince Edward to Guienne was at present Henry's favoritescheme, and for this end every means of raising money was resortedto. The King met the parliament, as he had done often before, withentreaties for a grant to enable him to go and redeem the HolySepulchre; but this had been far too frequently tried, and wasunnoticed; so he next tried the bribe of confirmation of the charters. All the assembly went to Westminster Abbey, the bishops and abbotscarrying tapers, and there the Archbishop of Canterbury pronouncedsentence of excommunication against whosoever should infringe thesecharters. As he spoke, the tapers were dashed at once on the ground, with the words, "May his soul who incurs this sentence be thusextinguished for ever!" while Henry added, "So help me God! I willkeep these charters, as I am a man, as I am a Christian, as I am aknight, as I am a king crowned and anointed. "

Yet a few days after, when the parliament was dismissed and the money inhis hands, the temptation to transgress the charter again occurred. Hisconscience was still overawed, and he hesitated; but his uncles andhalf-brothers bade him remember that, while he kept his oath, he was butthe shadow of a King, and that, should he scruple, three hundred markssent to the Pope would purchase his dispensation and discharge him ofguilt. 

There was real need in Guienne; for Alfonso, King of Castile, had setup a claim to that county, and threatened to invade it. Arriving there, Henry gained some advantages, and concluded a peace, which was to besealed by a marriage between Edward of England and Dona Leonor ofCastile, Alfonso's sister. Young as they were--Edward only fourteen andLeonor still younger--they were at once brought to Burgos and thereunited; after which a tournament was held, and the prince receivedknighthood from the sword of Alfonso. Bringing his bride back to hisfather at Bordeaux, Edward was received with a full display ofluxury; all Henry's money, and more too, having been laid out on thebanquetting, so that the King himself stood aghast, and dismallyanswered one of his English guests, "Say no more! What would they thinkof it in England?"

The young bride, Eleanor, as the English called her, was brought toEngland, while Edward remained in Guienne, sometimes visiting the Frenchcourt, and going wherever tournaments or knightly exercises invited him. He was far better thus employed, and in intercourse with St. Louis, thanin the miserable quarrels, expedients, and perplexities, at home; andthus he grew up generous, chivalrous, and devout, his whole characterstrongly influenced by the example he had seen at Paris. His featureswere fair, and of the noblest cast, perfectly regular, and onlyblemished by a slight trace of his father's drooping eyelid; theexpression full of fire and sweetness, though at times somewhat stern. His height exceeded that of any man in England, and his strength was inproportion; he was perfectly skilled in all martial exercises, and weare told that he could leap into the saddle when in full armor withoutputting his hand on it. 

All the wealth in the family had always been in the hands of PrinceRichard, Earl of Cornwall, whose tin mines yielded such a revenue thathe was esteemed the richest prince in Europe. He had wisely refused thePope's offer of the crown of Sicily; but at this time, the death ofFriedrich II. , and of his son Conrad, leaving vacant the imperial crown, he was so far allured by it, that he set off to offer himself as acandidate, carrying with him thirty-two wagons, each drawn by eighthorses, and laden with a hogshead of gold. Judiciously distributed, it purchased his election by the Archbishop of Mainz and some of theelectors, while others gave their votes to Alfonso of Castile, whoseoffers had been also considerable. 

Alfonso thenceforth was called _El Emperador_, and Richard was generallyknown as King of the Romans, and his son as Henry d'Almayne, or ofGermany; but the Germans took no notice of either claimant beyond takingtheir presents, and the only consequence was, that Richard was a poorerman, and that his brother, the King, was ruined. 

It was in 1258, while Richard was gone to be crowned at Aix-la-Chapelle, that the long-gathering peril began to burst. There had been a severefamine, which added to the general discontent; and though Richard senthome forty vessels laden with corn, his absence was severely felt, andhis mediation was missed. The King saw Simon de Montfort in conferencewith the nobles, and feared the consequences. Once, when overtaken by asudden storm on his way to the Tower, Henry was forced to take refugeat Durham House, then the abode of the Earl, who came down to meet him, bidding him not to be alarmed, as the storm was over. 

"Much as I dread thunder and lightning, I fear thee more than all, " saidthe poor King. 

"My Lord, " said Montfort, "you have no need to dread your only truefriend, who would save you from the destruction your false councillorsare preparing for you. "

These words were better understood when, on the 2d of May, Henry, ongoing to meet his parliament at Westminster, found all his Baronssheathed in full armor, and their swords drawn. These they laid asideon his entrance, but when he demanded, "What means this? Am I yourprisoner?" Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk, a proud, violent man, who hadonce before given the lie to the King, answered:

"Not so, sir; but your love of foreigners, and your own extravagance, have brought great misery on the realm. We therefore demand that thepowers of government be entrusted to a committee of Barons and Prelates, who may correct abuses and enact sound laws. "

William de Valence, one of Henry's half-brothers, took upon him toreply, and high words passed between him and the Earl of Leicester; butthe royal party were overmatched, and were obliged to consent to givea commission to reform the state to twenty-four persons, half from theKing's council, and half to be chosen by the Barons themselves, in aparliament to be held at Oxford. 

This meeting, noted in history as the Mad Parliament, commenced onthe 11th of June, and the Barons brought to it their bands of armedretainers, so as to overpower all resistance. The regulations were madeentirely at their will, and the chief were thus: That parliaments shouldassemble thrice a year, that four knights from each county should laybefore them every grievance, and that they should overlook all theaccounts of the Chancellor and Treasurer. For the next twelve yearsthis committee were to take to themselves the power of disposing of thegovernment of the royal castles, of revoking any grant made withouttheir consent, and of forbidding the great seal to be affixed to anycharter--the same species of restraint as that under which King John hadbeen placed at Runnymede. 

The King's half-brothers would not yield up the castles in theirpossession, but Montfort told William de Valence that he would havethem, or his head, and brought charges against them before the council, which so alarmed them, that they all fled to Wolvesham Castle, belongingto Aymar, as intended Bishop of Winchester. Thither the Barons pursuedthem, and, making them prisoners, sent them out of the realm, with onlysix thousand marks in their possession. 

Their defeat proved how vain was resistance, and the whole royal familywere obliged to swear to observe the Acts of Oxford, as they werecalled. The King's nephew, Henry d'Almayne, protested that they were ofno force in the absence of his father, the King of the Romans. "Let yourfather look to himself, " said Leicester. "If he refuse to act with theBarons of England, not a foot of land shall he have in the whole realm. "

And accordingly, on his return, Richard was not allowed to land till hehad promised to take the oath, which he did at Dover, in the presence ofthe King and Barons. 

Queen Eleanor expressed herself petulantly as to the oath, and PrinceEdward was scarcely persuaded to take it; but at length he was forcedto yield, and having done so, retired from the kingdom in grief andvexation; for, having sworn it, he meant to abide by it, not beingas well accustomed to oaths and dispensations as his father, who, ofcourse, quickly sent to Rome for absolution. 

On the other hand, when the twenty-four had to swear to it, the mostbackward to do so was Simon de Montfort himself, who probably discernedthat the pledge was likely to be a mere mockery. When he at lengthconsented, it was with the words, "By the arm of St. James, though Itake this oath, the last, and by compulsion, yet I will so observe itthat none shall be able to impeach me. "

Prince Edward might have said the same; he even incurred the displeasureof his mother for refusing to elude or transgress his oath, and was fora time accused of having joined the Barons' party. Meanwhile, the Kingand Queen were constantly and needlessly affronting their subjects. "What! are you so bold with me, Sir Earl?" said the King to Roger Bigod. "Do you not know I could issue my royal warrant for threshing out allyour corn?"

"Ay, " returned the Earl; "and could not I send you the heads of thethreshers?"

The hot-tempered, light-minded Queen Eleanor's open contempt of theEnglish drew upon her such hatred, that vituperative ballads were madeon her, some of which have come down to our times. One attacks even hervirtue as a wife, and another is entitled a "Warning against Pride, being the Fall of Queen Eleanor, who for her pride sank into the earthat Charing Cross, and rose again at Queenhithe, after killing the LadyMayoress. " Unfortunately, popular inaccuracy has imputed her errors tothe gentle Eleanor of Castile, her daughter-in-law, and thus the balladcalls her wife to Edward I. , instead of Henry III. "A Spanish dame, "was a term that might fairly be applied to the Provençal Eleanor, whoselanguage was nearly akin to Spanish, and whose luxury was sufficient tolead to the accusation of

 "Bringing in fashions strange and new, With golden garments bright;"

And that

 "The wheat, that daily made her bread Was bolted twenty times: The food that fed this stately dame Was boiled in costly wines. The water that did spring from ground She would not touch at all, But washed her hands with dew of heaven That on sweet roses fall. She bathed her body many a time In fountains filled with milk, And every day did change attire In costly Median silk. "

Eleanor of Provence, when "drest in her brief authority" as LadyChancellor, had arbitrarily imprisoned the Lord Mayor, and this theballad converts into a persecution of the unfortunate Lady Mayoress, whom she sent"--into Wales with speed, And kept her secret there, And used her still more cruelly Than ever man did bear. She mude her wash, she made her starch, She made her drudge alway, She made her nurse up children small, And labor night and day, "and in conclusion slew her by means of two snakes. 

Afterward her coach stood still in London, and could not move, when shewas accused of the crime, and, denying it, sunk into the ground, androse again at Queenhithe; after which she languished for twenty days, and made full confession of her sins!

The real disaster that befell Queen Eleanor in London was an attack bythe mob as she was going down the Thames in her barge. She was peltedwith rotten eggs, sheeps' bones, and all kinds of offal, with loud criesof "Drown the witch!" and at length even stones and beams from somehouses building on the bank assailed her, and she was forced, to returnin speed to the Tower. 

Prince Edward was not always blameless. He had been employed against theWelsh, and after the campaign, not knowing whither to turn for means ofpaying his troops, he broke into the chests of the Knights Templars, to whom his mother's jewels had been pledged, and carried off not onlythese, but much property besides that had been committed to the keepingof the order by other parties. 

As to the unfortunate Jews, each party considered them fair game; andthere were frequent attacks upon them, and frightful massacres, when thechoice of death or of Christianity was offered to them, and the Baronsseized their treasures. The curses of Deuteronomy, of the tremblingheart, and the uncertainty of life and possession, were indeed fulfilledon the unhappy race. 

For four years the committee of twenty-four held their power with fewfluctuations, until matters were driven to extremity by a proposal torender the present state of things permanent, and at the same time by anattack on the property of the moderate and popular King of the Romans onthe part of the Barons. 

On this the royal party determined to submit the dispute to thearbitration of the King of France, whose wise and fair judgments were souniversally famed that the Barons readily consented, with the exceptionof Leicester, who was convinced that Louis would incline to the side ofHenry, both as fellow-king and as brother-in-law, and therefore refusedto attend the conference, or to consider himself bound by its decisions. 

The judgment of Louis IX, was perfectly just and moderate. He declaredthat Magna Charta was indeed binding on the King of England, and thathe had no right to transgress it; but that the coercion in which he hadbeen placed by the Mad Parliament was illegal, and that the Acts ofOxford were null, since no subjects had a right to deprive theirsovereign of the custody of his castles, nor of the choice of hisministers. 

As Montfort had foreseen, the Barons would not accept this decision, andits sole effect was to release Prince Edward's conscience, and open theway to civil war. The two Eleanors, of Provence and Castile, were leftunder the charge of St. Louis; and their namesakes of the other party, the Countess of Leicester and her daughter, the Damoiselle de Montfort, fortified themselves in their castle of Kenilworth, while arms weretaken up on either side. 

Leicester, who held that the guilt of perjury rested with the otherparty, and who had with him the clergy opposed to the Italianusurpation, deemed it a holy war, and marked the breasts of his soldierswith white crosses, imagining himself the champion of the truth, as hehad been taught to think himself, when bearing his first arms under hisfather in what was esteemed the Provençal Crusade. Alas, when honorableand devout minds have the fine edge of conscience blunted! Thus did thegallant and beloved "Sir Simon the Righteous" become a traitor and arebel. 

The scholars of Oxford, who had not at all forgotten their quarrel withking and legate, came out _en masse_ under the banner of the University(for once disloyal), to join Leicester's second son, Simon, who wascollecting a body of troops to lead to his father in London. 

Prince Edward, however, attacked them at Northampton, and effected abreach in the wall. Young Montfort attempted a desperate sally, butwas defeated, and his life only saved by his cousin, the Prince, whoextricated him from beneath his fallen steed, and made him prisoner. 

The King and Prince next marched to seize the Cinque Ports, and, whilein Sussex, Leicester followed them, and came up with them in a hollowvalley near Lewes. Here, with a sort of satire, the Barons sent to offerthe King 30, 000 marks if he would make peace, and a like sum to the Kingof the Romans if he would bring him to terms. The proposals were angrilyrepelled by Edward, who, with accusations of his godfather as traitorand "_foi menti_, " sent him a personal challenge. 

Leicester spent the night in prayer, and in early morning knightedGilbert de Clare, the young Earl of Gloucester, who was at this timeenthusiastically attached to him. The battle then began, each army beingarrayed in three divisions. Prince Edward and Henry d'Almayne wereopposed to their two cousins, Henry and Guy de Montfort, with the bandsfrom London. Mindful of the outrage that his mother had sustained fromthe citizens, Edward charged them furiously, and pursued them with greatslaughter, never drawing rein till he reached Croydon. 

But, as they rode back to Lewes, the impetuous young soldiers beheld asight very different from their triumphant anticipations. The fieldwas scattered with the corpses of the Royalists, and the white-crossedtroops of the Barons were closely gathered round the castle and prioryof Lewes. In dismay, William and Guy de Lusignan turned their horses, and rode off to embark at Pevensey. Seven hundred men followed them, andEdward and Henry were left with the sole support of Roger Mortimer, aWelsh-border friend of the former, with his followers. 

The hot pursuit of the fugitive plunderers had ruined the day. Montforthad concentrated his forces, and had totally routed the two kings;Richard was already his prisoner, and Henry had no chance of holding outin the priory. The princes undauntedly strove to collect their shatteredforces, and break through to his rescue, but were forced to desist by amessage that, on their first attack, the head of the King of the Romansshould be struck off. 

To save his life, the two cousins therefore agreed to a treaty calledthe Mise of Lewes, May 15th, 1264, by which they gave themselves up tothe Barons as hostages for their fathers, stipulating that the matter atissue should be decided by deputies from the King of France, and thatthe prisoners on either side should be set free. 

Now began the great trial of Simon de Montfort--that of power andprosperity--and he failed under it. Whatever might have been his firstintentions in taking up arms, he now proved himself unwilling to layaside the authority placed in his hands, even though he violated hisoaths in maintaining it, and incurred the sentence of excommunicationwhich the Pope launched against him. But when the most saintly Englishbishops of their own time had died under it, it lost its power on theconscience. 

No measures were taken for the French arbitration, nor were theprisoners set free. The King of the Romans was confined at Kenilworth, and the two young princes at Dover, the custody of which castle wascommitted to one of their cousins, the Montforts, who allowed them noamusement but the companionship of Thomas de Clare, the young brother ofthe Earl of Gloucester. King Henry was indeed nominally at liberty, butwatched perpetually by Leicester's guards, and not allowed to take astep or to write a letter without his superintendence; and when theMayor of London swore fealty to him, it was with the words, "As longas he was good to them. " Edward was made, on promise of liberation, toswear to terms far harder than even the Acts of Oxford, and when thebitter oath had been taken, he was pronounced at full liberty, and thencarried off, under as close a guard as ever, to Wallingford Castle. 

Queen Eleanor was acting with great spirit abroad, gathering money andcollecting troops in hopes of better times, and seven knights still heldout Bristol for the King. They made a sudden expedition to Wallingford, in hopes of rescuing the Prince; but the garrison were on the alert, andcalled out to them that, if they wanted the prince, they might havehim, but only tied hand and foot, and shot from a mangonel; and Edwardhimself, appearing on the walls, declared that, if they wished to savehis life, they must retreat. 

This violent threat went beyond the instructions of Leicester, whoremoved his nephew from the keeping of this garrison, and placed him atKenilworth. 

But Simon was made to feel that he had little control over hisfollowers, and especially over his wild sons, who had learnt no respectto authority at all, and outran in their violence even the doings of theLusignan family. Henry de Montfort seized all the wool in England, whichwas sold for his profit, while Simon and Guy fitted out a fleet andplundered the vessels in the Channel, without distinction of English orforeigners, and thus turned aside the popularity which Leicester hadhitherto enjoyed in London. The Barons, too, already discontented athaving only changed their masters, so as to have the mighty Montfortover them instead of the weak Plantagenet, could not bear with theadditional lawlessness of sons who made themselves vile withoutrestraint. A violent quarrel arose between these youths and Earl Gilbertde Clare, who challenged them to a joust at Dunstable; but their father, dreading fatal consequences, forbade it, and Gloucester retired to hisestates in high displeasure. 

Here he was joined by his brother Thomas, who came full of descriptionsof the princely courtesy and sweetness of manner of the royal Edward, which contrasted so strongly with the presumption of his upstart cousinsthat the young Earl was brought over to concert measures with thePrince's friend, Roger Mortimer. 

In order to overawe the Welsh borderers, who were much attached toEdward, Simon had carried his captive to Hereford Castle, whither Thomasde Clare now returned as his attendant, taking with him a noble steed, provided by Mortimer, with a message that his friends would be on thealert to receive him at a certain spot. 

Edward mounted his horse, rode out with his guard, set them to race, andlooked on as umpire, till, their steeds being duly tired, he gallopedoff, and the last they saw of him was far in advance meeting with aparty of spears, beneath the pennon of Mortimer. And now the Earl ofLeicester experienced that "success but signifies vicissitude. " Afterhis reign of one year, his fall was rapid. 

The Earl of Gloucester had at once joined Edward, and in vain didLeicester use the King's name in calling on the military tenants of theCrown; only a small proportion of his old partisans came to his aid, andhe remained on the banks of the Severn, waiting to be joined by his sonSimon, who had been besieging Pevensey, but now marched to his aid. 

On his way, young Simon summoned Winchester, but was refused admittance. However, the treacherous monks of St. Swithin's let in his forcesthrough a window of their convent on the wall, and the city was horriblysacked, especially the Jewry. Afterward he went to the family castleof Kenilworth, where he awaited orders from his father. A woman namedMargot informed the Prince that it was the habit of Simon and hisknights to sleep outside the walls, for the convenience of bathing inthe summer mornings; and Edward, suddenly making a night-march, fellupon them while in the very act, and took most of them prisoners, Simonjust escaping into the castle with his pages in their shirts anddrawers, all his baggage and treasures being taken. 

Ignorant of this disaster, the Earl of Leicester proceeded, in hopes ofeffecting a junction with his son, and had just arrived at Evesham whenbanners were seen in the distance. Nicholas, his barber, who pretendedto have some knowledge of heraldry, declared that they belonged to SirSimon's troops; but the Earl, not fully satisfied, bade him mount thechurch-steeple and look from thence. The affrighted barber recognizedthe Lions of England, the red chevrons of De Clare, the azure bars ofMortimer, waving over a forest of lances. 

"We are dead men, my Lord, " he said, as he descended. 

And truly, when the Earl beheld the marshalling of the hostile array, hecould not help exclaiming, "They have learnt this style from me! Now Godhave mercy on our souls, for our bodies are the Prince's!"

Henry, the only son who was with him, exhorted him not to despair. 

"I do not, my son, " replied the Earl; "but your presumption, and thepride of your brothers, have brought me to this pass. I firmly believe Ishall die for the cause of God and justice. "

He prayed, and received the sacrament, as he always did before goinginto battle; then arrayed his troops, bringing out the poor old King, inorder to make his followers imagine themselves the Royalists. He triedin vain to force the road to Kenilworth; then drew his troops into acompact circle, that last resource of gallant men in extremity, suchas those of Hastings and Flodden. Their ranks were hewn down little bylittle, and the Prince's troops were pressing on, when a lamentable crywas heard, "Save me! save me! I am Henry of Winchester!"

Edward knew the voice, and, springing to the rescue, drew out a woundedwarrior, whom he bore away to a place of safety. In his absence, Leicester's voice asked if quarter was given. 

"No quarter for traitors, " said some revengeful Royalist; and at thesame moment Henry de Montfort fell, slain, at his father's feet. 

"By the arm of St. James, it is time for me to die!" cried the Earl;and, grasping his sword in both hands, he rushed into the thickest ofthe foe, and, after doing wonders, was struck down and slain. Terribleslaughter was done on the "desperate ring;" one hundred and sixtyknights, with all their followers, were slain, and scarcely twelvegentlemen survived. The savage followers of Mortimer cut off the headand hands of Leicester, and carried the former as a present to theirlady; but this was beyond the bounds of the orders of Prince Edward, whocaused the corpses of his godfather and cousin to be brought into theabbey church of Evesham, wept over the playfellow of his childhood, andhonored the burial with his presence. 

The battle of Evesham was fought on the 4th of August, 1265, fourteenmonths after the misused victory of Lewes. 

So died the Earl of Leicester, termed, by the loving people of England, "Sir Simon the Righteous"--a man of high endowments and principles ofrectitude unusual in his age. His devotion was sincere, his charitiesextensive, his conduct always merciful--no slight merit in one bred upamong the savage devastators of Provence--and his household accountsprove the order and religious principle that he enforced. His friendswere among the staunch supporters of the English Church, and, unlikehis father, who thought to merit salvation as the instrument of theiniquities of Rome, he disregarded such injunctions and threats of hersas disagreed with the plain dictates of conscience. Thinking for himselfat length led to contempt of lawful authority; but it was an age whenthe shepherds were fouling the springs, and making their own profit ofthe flock; and what marvel was it if the sheep went astray?

He was enthusiastically loved by the English, especially the commonalty, who, excommunicate as he was, believed him a saint, imputed manymiracles to his remains, and murmured greatly that he was not canonized. After-times may judge him as a noble character, wrecked upon greattemptations, and dying as befitted a brave and resigned man drawn intofatal error. 

 "If ever, in temptation strong, Thou left'st the right path for the wrong, If every devious step thus trode Still led thee further from the road, Dread thou to speak presumptuous doom On noble 'Montfort's' lowly tomb; But say, 'he died a gallant knight, With sword in hand, for England's right. '"

For, though the rebellion cannot be justified, it was by the efforts andstrife of this reign that Magna Charta was fixed, not as the concessionwrung for a time by force from a reluctant monarch, but as the basis ofEnglish law. 

Prince Edward, in the plenitude of his victory, did not attempt torepeal it; but, at a parliament held at Marlborough, 1267, led hisfather to accept not this only, but such of the regulations of theBarons as were reasonable, and consistent with the rigid maintenance ofthe authority of the Crown. 

Evesham was the overthrow of the Montfort family. Henry was there slainwith his father--though, according to ballad lore, he had anotherfate--the blow only depriving him of sight, and he being found on thefield by a "baron's faire daughter, " she conveyed him to a place ofsafety, tended him, and finally became his wife, and made him "gladfather of pretty Bessee. " For years he lived and throve (as it appears)as the blind beggar of Bethnal Green, till his daughter, who had beenbrought up as a noble lady, was courted by various suitors. On hermaking known, however, that she was a beggar's daughter, "'Nay, then, ' quoth the merchant, 'thou art not for me. ' 'Nor, ' quoth the inn-holder, 'my wiffe shalt thou be. ' 'I lothe, ' said the gentle, 'a beggar's degree; And therefore adewe, my pretty Bessee. '"

However, there was a gentle knight whose love for "pretty Bessee" wasproof against the discovery of her father's condition and the entreatiesof his friends; and after he had satisfied her by promises not todespise her parents, the blind beggar counted out so large a portion, that he could not double it, and on the wedding-day the beggar revealedhis own high birth, to the general joy. 

Unfortunately, it does not appear as if Henry de Montfort might not haveprospered without his disguise. His mother was generously treated bythe King and Prince, and retired beyond sea with her sons Amaury andRichard; and her daughter Eleanor, and his brother Simon, a desperateand violent man, held out Kenilworth for some months, which was withdifficulty reduced; afterward he joined his brother Guy, and wanderedabout the Continent, brooding on revenge for his father's death. 

The last rebel to be overcome was the brave outlaw, Adam de Gourdon, who, haunting Alton Wood as a robber after the death of Leicester, wassought out by Prince Edward, subdued by his personal prowess, and led tothe feet of the King. 

The brave and dutiful Prince became the real ruler of the kingdom, andEngland at length reposed. 

 CAMEO XXXI. 

 THE LAST OF THE CRUSADERS. (1267-1291. )

 _Kings of England_. 1216. Henry III. 1272. Edward I. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1249. Alexander III. 1285. Margaret. (Interregnum. )

 _Kings of France_. 1226. Louis IX. 1270. Philippe III. 1285. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1273. Rodolph I. 

 _Popes_. 1265. Clement IV. 1271. Gregory X. 1276. Innocent V. 1277. John XXI. 1277. Nicholas III. 1281. Martin IV. 1285. Honorius IV. 1288. Nicholas IV. 

A hundred and seventy years had elapsed since the hills of Auvergne hadre-echoed the cry of _Dieu le veult_, and the Cross had been signed onthe shoulders of Godfrey and Tancred. Jerusalem had been held by theFranks for a short space; but their crimes and their indolence had ledto their ruin, and the Holy City itself was lost, while only a fewfortresses, detached and isolated, remained to bear the name of theKingdom of Palestine. The languishing Royal Line was even lost, becomingextinct in Conradine, the grandson of Friedrich II. And of Yolande ofJerusalem, that last member of the house of Hohenstaufen on whom thePope and Charles of Anjou wreaked their vengeance for the crimes of hisfore-fathers. Charles of Anjou, brother of St. Louis, but of utterlydissimilar character, had seized Conradine's kingdom of the twoSicilies, and likewise assumed his title to that of Jerusalem, thusacquiring a personal interest in urging on another Crusade for therecovery of Palestine. 

Less and less of that kingdom existed. Bibars, or BendocdarElbondukdari, one of the Mameluke emirs, who had become Sultan of Egyptduring the confusion that followed the death of Touran Chah, was sogreat a warrior that he was surnamed the Pillar of the MussulmanReligion and the Father of Victories--titles which he was resolved tomerit by exterminating the Franks. Cesarea, Antioch, Joppa, fell intohis hands in succession, and Tripoli and Acre alone remained in thepossession of the Templars and Hospitallers, who appealed to theirbrethren in Europe for assistance. 

The hope of a more effective crusade than his first had never beenabsent from the mind of Louis IX. ; he had carried it with him throughcourt and camp, dwelt on it while framing wise laws for his people, instructing his nobles, or sitting to do justice beneath the spreadingoak-tree of Vincennes. Since his return from Damietta, he had alwayslived as one devoted, never wearing gold on his spurs nor in his robes, and spending each moment that he could take from affairs of state inprayer and reading of the Scripture; and though his health was stillextremely frail and feeble, his resolution was taken. 

On the 23d of March, 1267, he convoked his barons in the great hall ofthe Louvre, and entered the assembly, holding in his hand that sacredrelic, the Crown of Thorns, which had been found by the Empress Helenawith the True Cross. He then addressed them, describing the needs oftheir Eastern brethren, and expressing his own intention of at oncetaking the Cross. There was a deep and mournful silence among hishearers, who too well remembered the sufferings of their last campaign, and who looked with despair at their beloved King's worn and wastedform, so weak that he could hardly bear the motion of a horse, and yetbent on encountering the climate and the labors that had well-nighproved fatal to him before. 

The legate, the Cardinal Ottoboni, then made an exhortation, after whichLouis assumed the Cross, and was imitated by his three sons, Philippe, Tristan, and Pierre, and his son-in-law, Thibault, King of Navarre, withother knights, but in no great numbers, for the barons were saying toeach other, that it was one of the saddest days that France had everseen. "If we take the Cross, " they said, "we lose our King; if we takeit not, we lose our God, since we will not take the Cross for Him. " TheSire de Joinville absolutely refused on account of his vassals, andopenly pronounced it a mortal sin to counsel the King to undertake suchan expedition in his present state of health; but Louis' determinationwas fixed, and in the course of the next three years he collected anumber of gallant young Crusaders. 

He had always had a strong influence over his nephew, Edward of England, and the conclusion of the war with Montfort, as well as a personalescape of his own, had at this period strongly disposed the Prince toacts of devotion. While engaged in a game at chess with a knight atWindsor Castle, a sudden impulse seized him to rise from his seat. Hehad scarcely done so, when a stone, becoming detached from the groinedroof over his head, fell down on the very spot where he had beensitting. His preservation was attributed by him to Our Lady ofWalsingham, and the beautiful church still existing there attests theveneration paid to her in consequence, while he further believed himselfmarked out for some especial object, and eagerly embraced the proposalof accompanying the French King on his intended voyage. 

Ottoboni preached the Crusade at Northampton on the 25th of June, 1269, after which he gave the Cross to King Henry, to the Princes Edward andEdmund, to their cousin Henry of Almayne, son to Richard of Cornwall, and to about one hundred and fifty knights. The King intended as littleto go on the expedition as on any of the former ones, and he soon madeover his Cross to his son. Edward, who was fully in earnest, made everyarrangement for the safety of the realm in his absence, taking withhim the turbulent Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester, and appointingguardians for his two infant sons, John and Henry, in case the old Kingshould die during his absence. His wife, Eleanor of Castile, insisted onaccompanying him; and when the perils of the expedition were representedto her, she replied, "Nothing ought to part those whom God hath joinedtogether. The way to heaven is as near, if not nearer, from Syria asfrom England or my native Spain. "

The last solemnity in which Edward assisted before his departure was thetranslation of the remains of Edward the Confessor to their new tomb inWestminster Abbey, the shrine of gold and precious stones being borneupon the shoulders of King Henry himself, after which the princes tookleave of their father, and commenced their expedition, meeting on theway their uncle, the King of the Romans, who was bringing home a youngGerman wife, Beatrice von Falkmart. Embarking at Dover on the 20th ofAugust, 1270, the princes made all speed to hasten across France, so asto come up with Louis, who had set sail from Aigues Mortes on the 1st ofJuly, with his three sons, his daughter Isabelle, and her husband theKing of Navarre, and Isabelle the wife of his eldest son Philippe, aswell as a gallant host of Crusaders. He had appointed Cagliari as theplace of meeting with Edward of England, and with his brother Charles, King of Sicily; but he found his sojourn there inconvenient; the Pisans, who held Sardinia, were unfriendly, provisions were scarce, and thewater unwholesome, and he became desirous of changing his quarters. 

The reasons which conduced to his fatal resolution have never beenclearly ascertained: whether he was influenced by his brother, the Kingof Sicily, who might reasonably wish to see the Moors of Tunis, his nearneighbors, overpowered; or whether he was drawn along by the impatienceof his forces, who were weary of inaction, and thought the plunder ofany Mahometan praiseworthy; or whether he had any hope of convertingthe King of Tunis, Omar, with whom he had at one time been incorrespondence. When some ambassadors from Tunis were at his court, aconverted Jew had been baptized in their presence, and he had said tothem, "Tell your master that I am so desirous of the salvation of hissoul, that I would spend the rest of my life in a Saracen prison, andnever see the light of day, if I could render your King and his peopleChristians like that man. " It does not seem improbable that Louis mighthave hoped that his arrival might encourage Omar to declare himself aChristian. But be this as it might, he sailed from Cagliari, and on the17th of June appeared upon the coast of Africa, close to the ruins ofancient Carthage. 

All the inhabitants fled to the mountains, and the shore was deserted, so that the French might have disembarked at once; but Louis hesitated, and waited till the next morning, when they found the coast coveredwith Moors. However, the landing proceeded, the Moors all takingflight--happily for the Christians, for their disorder was so great, that a hundred men might have prevented their disembarkation. Aproclamation was then read, taking possession of the territory in thename of our Lord, and of Louis, King of France. His servant. 

The spot where the army had landed was a sandy island, a league inlength, and very narrow, separated from the mainland by a channelfordable at low water, without any green thing growing on it, and withonly one spring of fresh water, which was guarded by a tower filled withMoorish soldiers. A hundred men would have been sufficient to dislodgethem; but few horses had been landed, and those were injured by theirvoyage, and the knights could do nothing without them. The men whowent in search of water were killed by the Moorish guard, and thirst, together with the burning heat of the sun reflected by the arid sand, caused the Christians to suffer terribly. 

As to the King of Tunis, far from fulfilling Louis' hopes, he sent himword that he was coming to seek him at the head of 100, 000 men, and thathe would only seek baptism on the field of battle; and at the same timehe seized and imprisoned every Christian in his dominions, threateningto cut off all their heads the instant the French should attack Tunis. 

After three days' misery in the island, the Christians advanced acrossthe canal, and entered a beautiful green valley, where Carthage once hadstood, full of rich gardens, watered by springs arranged for irrigation. The Moors buzzed round them, throwing their darts, but galloping offon their advance without doing any harm. There was a garrison in thecitadel, which was all that remained of the once mighty town; and theGenoese mariners, supported by the cavalry, undertook to dislodge them. This was effected, and the ruinous city was in the hands of the French. A number of the inhabitants had hidden themselves, with their riches, inthe extensive vaults and catacombs, and, to the shame of the Crusaders, their employment was to search these wretches out and kill them, oftenby filling the vaults with smoke. 

Louis had promised his brother Charles to wait for him before marchingagainst Tunis, and messengers daily arrived with intelligence that theSicilian troops were embarking; but, as the days passed on, the malariaof the ruined city and the heat of the climate were more fatal to theFrench army than would have been a lost battle. The desert winds whichswept over them were hot as flame, and brought with them clouds of sand, which blinded the men and choked up the wells, while the water of thesprings swarmed with insects, and all vegetable food failed. Diseasecould not be long wanting in such a situation, and a week after thetaking of Carthage the whole camp was full of fever and dysentery, tillthe living had not strength to bury the dead, but heaped them up in thevaults and the trenches round the camp, where their decay added to theinfection of the air. The Moors charged up to the lines, and killed thesoldiers at their posts every day; and a poet within Tunis made themenacing verses: "Frank, knowest thou not that Tunis is the sister ofCairo? Thou wilt find before this town thy tomb, instead of the houseof Lokman; and the two terrible angels, Munkir and Nekir, will take theplace of the eunuch Sahil. "

Lokman and Sahil had been Louis' guards in his Egyptian captivity, andthe Moorish poet contrasts them with the two angels whom the Mahometansbelieved received and interrogated the dead. 

As long as his strength lasted, Louis went about among the tents, encouraging and succoring the sufferers; but nearly at the same timehimself and his two sons, Philippe and Tristan, were attacked by themalady. On Tristan, a boy of sixteen, born in the last Crusade, theillness made rapid progress, and the physicians judged it right to carryhim from his father's tent and place him on board ship. His strengthrapidly gave way, and he expired soon after the transit. Louisconstantly inquired for his son, but was met by a mournful silence untilthe eighth day, when he was plainly told of his death, and shed manytears, though he trusted soon to rejoin his young champion of the Crossin a better world. The Cardinal of Alba, the papal legate, was the nextto die; and Louis' fever increasing, so that he could no longer attendto the government of the army, he sent for his surviving children, Philippe and Isabelle, and addressed to them a few words of advice, giving them each a letter written with his own hand, in which the sameinstructions were more developed. They were beautiful lessons in holyliving, piety, and justice, such as his descendant, the Dauphin, son ofLouis XV. , might well call his most precious inheritance. He bids hisdaughter to "have one desire that should never part from you--that is tosay, how you may most please our Lord; and set your heart on this, that, though you should be sure of receiving no guerdon for any good you maydo, nor any punishment for doing evil, you should still keep from doingwhat might displease God, and seek to do what may please Him, purelyfor love of Him. " He desires her, in adornment, to incline "to the lessrather than the more, " and not to have too great increase of robes andjewels, but rather to make of them her alms, and to remember that shewas an example to others. His parting blessing is, "May our Lord makeyou as good in all things as I desire, and even more than I know how todesire. Amen. "

To her he gave two ivory boxes, containing the scourge and hair-clothwhich he used in self-discipline, and which she afterward employed forthe same purpose, though unknown even to her confessor, until shementioned it at her death. 

To Philippe he said much of justice and mercy, desiring him always totake part against himself, and to give the preference to the weak overthe strong. He exhorted him to be careful in bestowing the benefices ofthe Church, and to keep a careful watch over his nobles and governors, lest they should injure the clergy or the poor. To reverence in church, and to guarded language, he also exhorted him. Indeed, Joinvillerecords, that in all the years that he knew the King, he never heardfrom him one careless mention of the name of God, or of the saints, nor did he hear him ever lightly speak of the devil; and in this theSeneschal so followed his example, that a blow was given in the Castleof Joinville for every profane word, so that he hoped the ill habit wasthere checked. 

The good King thus concludes: "Dear son, I give thee all the blessingthat father can and ought to give to son. May God of His mercy guard anddefend thee from doing aught against His will; may He give thee grace todo His will; so that He may be honored and served by thee; and this mayour Lord grant to me and thee by His great largesse, in such mannerthat, after this mortal life, we may see and laud and love Him withoutend. "

His children then took leave of him, and he remained with hisconfessors, after which he received the last rites of the Church, and was so fully conscious, that he made all the responses in thepenitential Psalms. When the Host was brought in, he threw himself outof bed, and received it kneeling on the ground, after which he refusedto be replaced in bed, but lay upon a hair-cloth strewn with ashes. Thiswas on Sunday, at three o'clock, and from that time, while voice lasted, he never ceased praising God aloud, and praying for his people. "LordGod, " he often said, "give us grace to despise earthly things, and toforget the things of this world, so that we may fear no evil;" or, "MakeThy people holy, and watch over them. " On Monday he became speechless;but he often looked around him _débonnairement_, and fixed his eyes onthe cross planted at the foot of his bed, while sometimes his attendantscaught a faint whisper of "O Jerusalem! Jerusalem!"

It was the heavenly Jerusalem that was before him now; and after lyingas if asleep for half an hour, he joined his hands, saying, "Good Lord, have mercy on the people that remain here, and bring them back to theirown land, that they may not fall into the hands of their enemies, norbe forced to deny Thy holy name!" Soon after, "Father, into Thy hands Icommend my spirit, " and, looking up to heaven, "I will enter into Thyhouse, and worship in Thy tabernacle. "

It was three o'clock in the afternoon of the 25th of August, when Louisdrew his last breath, and his chaplains were still standing round hisbed of ashes, when, the sound of trumpets fell on their ears. TheSicilian fleet had anchored, and the troops had landed while all theFrench were hanging in suspense on each report of the failing strengthof their King, and had not even watched for that long-delayed arrival. The dead silence that met the newcomers was their first intimation ofthe calamity; and when Charles of Anjou reached his brother's tent, andsaw his calm features fixed in death, he threw himself on his knees, andbitterly reproached himself for his tardiness in coming to his aid. 

The Sicilian troops gained some advantages over the Moors, and it wasproposed to finish the enterprise St. Louis had begun; but sicknessstill made great ravages in the army, and the new King, Philippe III. , was so ill, that a speedy departure could alone save his life: a peacewas therefore concluded with the Tunisians, which was hardly signed whenEdward, with his English force, arrived upon the coast. He accompaniedthe melancholy remains of the French army to Trapani in Sicily, whithermisfortunes still followed them. The young wife of Philippe III. Wasthrown from her horse, and died in consequence; and his sister Isabelle, and her husband the King of Navarre, both sank under the disordersbrought from Carthage. Broken in health and spirit, Philippe resolved todesist from the Crusade, and both he and his uncle would have persuadedthe English to do the same, since their small force alone could effectnothing; but Edward was undaunted. "I would go, " said he, "if I had noone with me but Fowen, my groom. "

Philippe set out on his return to France, carrying with him fivecoffins--those of his father, his brother, his wife, his sister, andbrother-in-law. Henry d'Almayne took the opportunity of his escort toreturn to England, since the failing health of Henry III. , and of hisbrother Richard, made his presence desirable. He had arrived at Viterbo, when he entered a church to hear mass. The Host had just been elevated, when a loud voice broke on the solemnity of the service, "Henry, thoutraitor, thou shalt not escape!"

Henry turned, and beheld his cousins, Simon and Guy de Montfort, the latter of whom had married the daughter of the Italian CountAldobrandini, and was living in the neighborhood. Their daggers wereraised, and Henry was unarmed. He sprang to the altar, and the twoofficiating priests interposed; but the sacrilegious Montforts killedone, and left the other for dead, and, piercing Henry again and again, slew him at the foot of the altar. Then going to the church-door, wheretheir horses awaited them, one of them said, "I have satisfied myvengeance. "

"What!" said an attendant, "was not your father dragged through thestreets of Evesham?"

At these words the savages returned, and dragged the corpse by the hairto the door of the church, after which they rode safely off. 

Henry's body was carried home, and buried in the Abbey of Hales. Hisfather probably never was aware of his death, for his own took place afew months after. 

The murderers were never traced out, and the remissness on the part ofPhilippe and Charles left an impression on Edward's mind that they hadconnived at the murder. Of this Philippe at least may be acquitted; hecompleted his sad journey, and buried his father at St. Denis, amid themourning of the whole nation, and yet their exultation, for miracleswere thought to be wrought at his tomb, and the Papal authority enrolledhim among the Saints. Old Joinville was cheered by a dream, in which hebeheld him resplendent with glory, and telling him that he would notquickly depart from him, whereupon he placed an altar in the castlechapel to his honor, and caused a mass to be said there every day. 

St. Louis' wisdom should be judged of rather by his admirable conduct indaily life, and in the government of his people, than by his actions inhis unfortunate Crusades, when he seemed to give up all guidance andcommon sense. At home he was so prudent, just, and wise, that few kingshave ever equalled him, and even the enemies of the faith that promptedhim cannot withhold their testimony that "virtue could be pushed nofurther. "

In the spring, Edward, with 300 knights, sailed for Acre, and, onarriving here [Footnote: Edward at Acre, 1271], made an expedition toNazareth, where he put all the garrison to the sword. He spent the winterin Cyprus, and returned again to Syria in the spring; but he could nevercollect more than 7, 000 men under his standard, and an advance onJerusalem was impossible. He therefore remained in his camp before Acre, while his knights went on pilgrimage to Jerusalem, and, while there, henarrowly escaped becoming a seventh royal victim, to the Crusade. 

The heat of the weather had affected his health, and he was lying on hiscouch, only covered with a single garment, when a messenger approachedwith letters purporting to be from the Emir of Joppa. While he wasreading them, the man suddenly drew out a poniard, and was striking athis side, when Edward, perceiving his intention, caught the blow on hisarm, and threw him to the ground by a kick on the breast. The murdererarose, and took aim again, but had only grazed his; forehead, when thePrince dashed out his brains with a wooden stool. The attendants rushedin, and were beginning to make up for their negligence by blows on thecorpse, when Edward stopped them, by sternly demanding what was the useof striking a dead man. 

It is on the authority of a Spanish chronicle that we hear that Eleanor, apprehending that the weapon had been poisoned, at once sucked the bloodfrom her husband's wounds. The fear was too well founded, and Edward wasin great danger; so that his men, in their first rage, were about to putto death all their Saracen captives, when he roused himself to preventthem, by urging, that not only were these men innocent, but that theenemy would retaliate upon the many Christian pilgrims absent from thearmy. 

The Grand Master of the Templars brought a surgeon, who gave hopes ofsaving the gallant English prince by cutting out the flesh around thewound. Edward replied by bidding him work boldly, and spare not; butEleanor could not restrain her lamentations, till he desired his brotherEdmund to lead her from the tent, when she was carried away, strugglingand sobbing, while Edmund roughly told her that it was better she shouldscream and cry, than all England mourn and lament. 

The operation was safely performed, but Edward made his will, andresigned himself to die. In fifteen days, however, he was able to mounthis horse, and nearly at the same time Eleanor gave birth to her eldestdaughter, Joan, called of Acre, whose wild, headstrong temper was littlefitted to the child of a Crusade. 

The army was weakened by sickness, and Edward decided on prolonging hisstay no longer; therefore, as soon as Eleanor had recovered, he leftthe Holy Land, with keen regret, and many vows to return with a greaterforce. These vows were never fulfilled, nor was it well they shouldhave been. Acre was a nest of corruption, filled with the scum of theEuropean nations, and a standing proof that the Latin Christians wereunworthy to hold a foot of the hallowed ground; and in 1291, eighteenyears after the conclusion of the seventh Crusade, it was taken by theSultan Keladun, after a brave defence by the Templars and Hospitallers;and since that time Palestine has remained under the Mahometan, dominion. 

Louis and Edward were the last princely Crusaders, though the idea livedon in almost every high-souled man through the Middle Ages. Henry V. And Philip le Bon of Burgundy both schemed the recovery of the HolySepulchre; and the hope that chiefly impelled the voyage of Columbuswas, that his Western discoveries might open a way to the redemption ofthe Holy Land. "Remember the Holy Sepulchre!" is a cry that can neverpass from the ears of men. 

Death had been busy in England as in the crusading host, and the tidingsmet Edward in Sicily that his home was desolate. His kind and generousuncle, Richard, his gentle, affectionate father, and his two youngchildren, had all died during his absence. The grief that the sternEdward showed for his father's death was so overpowering, that Charlesof Sicily, who probably had little esteem for Henry, and thought thekingdom a sufficient consolation, marvelled that he could grieve morefor an aged father than for two promising sons. "The Lord, who gave methese, can give me other children, " said Edward; "but a father can neverbe restored!"

Before his return to England, Edward obtained from Pope Gregory X. Justice upon the murderers of Henry d'Almayne. Simon was dead, but Guywas declared incapable of inheriting or possessing property, or offilling any office of trust, and was excommunicated and outlawed. AfterEdward had left Italy, the unhappy man ventured to meet the Pope atFlorence in his shirt, with a halter round his neck, and implored thathis sentence might be changed to imprisonment. The Pope had pity on him, and, after a confinement of eleven years, he was liberated, and returnedto his wife's estates. He afterward was taken prisoner in the wars inSicily, but his subsequent fate does not appear. 

The history of the last of the Crusaders must not be quitted withoutmentioning that the scene of St. Louis' death is now in the hands of theFrench, and that the spot has been marked by a chapel erected by hisdescendant, Louis Philippe; and that our own Edward sleeps in hisfather's church of Westminster, beneath a huge block, unornamentedindeed, but of the same rock as the hills of Palestine; nay, it isbelieved that it is probably one of those great stones whereof it wassaid; that not one should remain on another. 

 CAMEO XXXII. 

 The CYMRY. (B. C. 66 A. D. 1269. )

In ancient times the whole of Europe seems to have been inhabited by theKeltic nation, until they were dispossessed by the more resolute tribesof Teuton origin, and driven to the extreme West, where the barrierof rugged hills that guards the continent from the Atlantic waves haslikewise protected this primitive race from extinction. 

Cym, or Cyn, denoting in their language "first, " was the root of theirname of Cymry, applied to the original tribe, and of which we findtraces across the whole map of Europe, beginning from the CimmerianBosphorus, going on to the Cimbri, conquered by Marius, while in our owncountry we still possess Cumberland and Cambria, the land inhabited bythe Cymry. 

The Gael, another pure Keltic tribe, who followed the Cymry, havebestowed more names, as living more near to the civilized world, andbeing better known to history. Even in Asia Minor, a settlement of themhad been called Galatians, and the whole tract from the north of Italyto the Atlantic was, to the Romans, Gallia. The name still survives inthe Cornouailles of Brittany and the Cornwall of England (both meaningthe horn of Gallia), in Gaul, in Galles, in the Austrian and SpanishGalicias, in the Irish Galway and the Scottish Galloway, while the Gaelthemselves are still a people in the Highlands. 

Mingling with the Teutons, though receding before them, there wasa third tribe, called usually by the Teuton word "_Welsh_"meaning strange; and these, being the first to come in contact withthe Romans, were termed by them Belgae. The relics of thisappellation are found in the German "Welschland, " the name givento Italy, because the northern part of that peninsula had a Kelticpopulation, in Wallachia, in the Walloons of the Netherlands, who havelately assumed the old Latinized name of Belgians, and in the Welsh ofour own Wales. 

This last was the region, scarcely subdued by the Romans, where theCymry succeeded in maintaining their independence, whilst the Angles andSaxons gained a footing in the whole of the eastern portion of Britain. The Britons were for the most part Christian, and partly civilized bythe Romans; but there was a wild element in their composition, and aboutthe time of the departure of the Roman legions there had been a reactiontoward the ancient Druidical religion, as if the old national faith wasto revive with the national independence. The princes were extremelysavage and violent, and their contemporary historian, Gildas, gives amelancholy account of their wickedness, not even excepting the greatPendragon, Arthur, in spite of his twelve successful battles with theSaxons. Merlin, the old, wild soothsayer of romance, seems to haveexisted at this period under the name of Merddyn-wilt, or the Wild, andbequeathed dark sayings ever since deemed prophetic, and often curiouslyverified. 

Out of the attempt to blend the Druid philosophy with Christianity arosethe Pelagian heresy, first taught by Morgan, or Pelagius, a monk ofBangor, and which made great progress in Wales even after its refutationby St. Jerome. It was on this account that St. Germain preached inWales, and produced great effect. The Pelagians gave up their errors, and many new converts were collected to receive the rite of baptism atMold, in Flintshire, when a troop of marauding enemies burst, on them. The neophytes were unarmed and in their white robes, but, borne up bythe sense of their new life, they had no fears for their body, and withone loud cry of "Hallelujah!" turned, with the Bishop at their head, tomeet the foe. The enemy retreated in terror; and the name of Maes Garmanstill marks the scene of this bloodless victory. 

After this the heresy died away, but the more innocent customs of theDruids continued, and the system of bards was carried on, setting apartthe clergy, the men of wisdom, and the poets, by rites derived fromancient times. Be it observed, that a Christian priest was notnecessarily of one of the Druidical or Bardic orders, although this wasgenerally preferred. Almost all instructions were still oral, and, forconvenience of memory, were drawn up in triads, or verses of three--amystic number highly esteemed. Many of these convey a very deepphilosophy. For instance, the three unsuitable judgments in any personwhatsoever: The thinking himself wise--the thinking every other personunwise--the thinking all he likes becoming in him. Or the threerequisites of poetry: An eye that can see Nature--a heart that can feelNature--a resolution that dares to follow Nature. And the three objectsof poetry: Increase of goodness--increase of understanding--increaseof delight. 

Such maxims were committed to the keeping of the Bards, who wereadmitted to their office after a severe probation and trying initiatoryrites, among which the chief was, that they should paddle alone, ina little coracle, to a shoal at some distance from the coast ofCaernarvonshire--a most perilous voyage, supposed to be emblematic bothof the trials of Noah and of the troubles of life. Afterward the Bardwore sky-blue robes, and was universally honored, serving as thecounsellor, the herald, and the minstrel of his patron. The domesticBard and the chief of song had their office at the King's court, withmany curious perquisites, among which was a chessboard from the King. The fine for insulting the Bard was 6 cows and 120 pence; for slayinghim, 126 cows. With so much general respect, and great powers ofextemporizing, the Bards were well able to sway the passions ofthe nation, and greatly contributed to keep up the fiery spirit ofindependence which the Cymry cherished in their mountains. 

When the Saxons began to embrace Christianity, and Augustine came onhis mission from Rome, the Welsh clergy, who had made no attempts atconverting their enemies, looked on him with no friendly eyes. Hebrought claims, sanctioned by Gregory the Great, to an authority overthem inconsistent with that of the Archbishop of Caerleon; and theperiod for observing Easter was, with them, derived from the East, anddiffered by some weeks from that ordained by the Roman Church. An oldhermit advised the British clergy, who went to meet Augustine, to tryhim by the test of humility, and according as he should rise to greetthem, or remain seated, to listen to his proposals favorably orotherwise. Unfortunately, Augustine retained his seat: they rejected hisplans of union; and he told them that, because they would not preach tothe Angles the way of life, they would surely at their hands suffer death. 

Shortly after, the heathen king, Ethelfrith, attacked Brocmail, theWelsh prince of Powys, who brought to the field 1, 200 monks of Bangorto pray for his success. The heathens fell at once on the priests, and, before they could be protected, slew all except fifty; and this, thoughthe Welsh gained the victory, was regarded by the Saxon Church as ajudgment, and by the Welsh, unhappily, as a consequence of Augustine'sthroat. The hatred became more bitter than ever, and the Welsh would noteven enter the same church with the Saxons, nor eat of a meal of whichthey had partaken. 

Cadwallader, the last of the Pendragons, was a terrible enemy to thekings of Mercia and Northumbria, and with him the Cymry consider thattheir glory ended. Looking on themselves for generation after generationas the lawful owners of the soil, and on the Saxons as robbers, theyshowed no mercy in their forays, and inflicted frightful cruelties ontheir neighbors on the Marches. Offa's curious dyke, still existing inShropshire, was a bulwark raised in the hope of confining them withintheir own bounds:

"That Offa (when he saw his countries go to wrack), From bick'ring withhis folk, to keep the Britons back, Cast up that mightly mound of eightymiles in length, Athwart from sea to sea. "

The Danish invasions, by ruining the Saxons, favored the Welsh; andcontemporary with Alfred lived Roderic Mawr, or the Great, who had hisdomains in so peaceful a state, that Alfred turned thither for aid inhis revival of learning, and invited thence to his court his bosomfriend Asser, the excellent monk and bard. Roderic divided hisdominions--Aberfraw, or North Wales, Dinasvawr, or South Wales, andPowys, or Shropshire--between his three sons; but they became unitedagain under his grandson, Howell Dha, the lawgiver of Wales. 

Actuated perhaps by the example of Alfred, Howell collected his clergyand bards at his hunting-lodge at Tenby, a palace built of peeled rods, and there, after fasting and praying for inspiration, the collectivewisdom of the kingdom compiled a body of laws, which the King afterwardcarried in person to Rome to receive the confirmation of the Pope; andmuch edified must the Romans have been if they chanced to glance overthe code, since, besides many wise and good laws, it regulated theminute etiquettes and perquisites of the royal household. If any oneshould insult the King, the fine was to be, among other valuables, agolden dish as broad as the royal face, and as thick as the nail ofa husbandman who has been a husbandman, seven years. Each officer'sdistance from the royal fire was regulated, and even the precedence ofeach officer's horse in the stable--proving plainly the old saying, thatthe poorer and more fiery is a nation, the more precise is their pointof honor. It seems to have been in his time, as a more enlightenedprince, that the Welsh conformed their time of keeping Easter to that ofthe rest of the Western Church. But Howell was no longer independent ofthe English: he had begun to pay a yearly tribute of dogs, horses, andhawks, to Ethelstane, and the disputes that followed his death broughtthe Welsh so much lower, that Edgar the Peaceable easily exacted histoll of wolves' heads; and Howell of North Wales was one of the eightroyal oarsmen who rowed the Emperor of Britain to the Minster of St. John, on the river Dee. 

The Welsh had destroyed all their wolves before the close of Dunstan'sregency, and Ethelred the Unready not being likely to obtain muchrespect, the tribute was discontinued, until the marauding Danes againexacted it under another form and title of "Tribute of the Black Army. "

Fierce quarrels of their own prevented the Welsh from often takingadvantage of the disturbances of England. As in Ireland, the right ofgavelkind was recognized; yet primogeniture was also so far regarded asto make both claims uncertain; and the three divisions of Wales wereconstantly being first partitioned, and then united, by some prince whoruled by the right of the strongest, till dethroned by another, who, toprove his right of birth, carried half his genealogy in his patronymic. 

Thus Llewellyn ap Sithfylht, under whom "the earth brought forth double, the cattle increased in great number, and there was neither beggar norpoor man from the South to the North Sea, " was slain in battle, in 1021, by Howell ap Edwin ap Eneon ap Owayn ap Howell Dha, who reigned overSouth Wales till the son of Llewellyn, or, rather, Gryflyth ap Llewellynap Sithfylht ap, &c. , coming to age, dispossessed him, and gained allWales. It was this Gryffyth who received and sheltered Fleance, theson of Banquo, when flying from Macbeth, and gave him in marriage hisdaughter Nesta, who became the mother of Walter, the ancestor of theline of kings shadowed in Macbeth's mirror. 

In the early part of Gryffyth's reign, the Welsh flourished greatly. Earl Godwin, in his banishment, made friends with him, and, favored bySaxon treachery, he overran Herefordshire, and pillaged the cathedral. But, after Godwin's death, Harold, as Earl of Wessex, deemed it timeto repress these inroads, and, training his men to habits of diet andmethods of warfare that rendered them as light and dexterous as the wildmountaineers, he pursued them into their own country, and burnt thepalace and ships at Rhuddlan, while Gryffyth was forced to take refugein one of his vessels. 

Harold set up a pillar with the inscription, "Here Harold conquered;"and the Welsh gave hostages, and promised to pay tribute, while Harolderected a hunting-seat in Monmouthshire, and made an ordinance that anyWelshman seen bearing weapons beyond Offa's dyke should lose his righthand. Welshwomen might marry Englishmen, but none of the highborn Cymrymight aspire to wed an Englishwoman. Hating the prince under whomthey had come to so much disgrace, the Welsh themselves captured poorGryffyth, and sent his head, his hands, and the beak of his ship, toEdward the Confessor, from whom they accepted the appointment of threeof their native princes to the three provinces. 

Thus the strength of Wales was so far broken, that William the Conquerorhad only to bring a force with him, under pretext of a pilgrimage to theshrine of St. David, to obtain the submission of the princes; and, infact, the Cymry found the Norman nobles far more aggressive neighborsthan the Angles had been since their first arrival in Britain. 

The mark, or frontier, once the kingdom of Mercia, was now called theMarch of Wales, where the Norman knights began to effect settlements, bythe right of the strongest, setting up their impregnable castles, roundwhich the utmost efforts of the Welsh were lost. Martin de Tours was oneof the first, and his glittering host of mail-clad men so overawed theinhabitants of Whitchurch that they readily submitted, and he quietlyestablished himself in their bounds, treating them, as it appears, withmore fairness and friendliness than was then usual. He was a greatchess-player, and the sport descended from father to son, even among thepeasantry of Whitchurch, who long after were most skilful in the game. 

Hugh Lupus, the fierce old Earl of Chester, was likewise a Lord Marcher, and had, like the Bishop of Durham, the almost royal powers of a CountPalatine, because, dwelling on the frontier, it was necessary thatthe executive power should be prompt and absolute. Indeed, the LordsMarchers, as these border barons were called, lived necessarily in astate of warfare, which made it needful to entrust them with greaterpowers than their neighbors, around whom they formed a sort of _cordon_, to protect them from the forays of the half-savage Welsh. 

Twenty-one baronies were formed in this manner along the March of Wales, which constantly travelled toward the west. Robert Fitzaymon, by analliance with one Welsh chief, dispossessed another of Glamorgan, whichhe left to his daughter Amabel, the wife of Earl Robert of Gloucester;and Gilbert de Clare, commonly called Strongbow (the father of the IrishConqueror), obtained a grant from Henry I. Of Chepstow and Pembroke, buthad to fight hard for the lands which had more lawful owners. In andout among these Lords Marchers, and making common cause with them, were settlements of Flemings. Flanders, that commercial state wherecloth-weaving first flourished as a manufacture, had suffered greatlyfrom the inundations of the sea, and the near connection subsistingbetween the native princes and the sons of the Conqueror had led to anintercourse, which ended in the weavers, who had lost their all, beinginvited by Henry I. To take up their abode in Pembrokeshire, where theycarried on their trade while defending themselves against the Welsh, and thus first commenced the manufactures of England. Resolute inresistance, though not rash nor aggressive, and of industrious habits, they acted as a great protection to the English counties, and down evento the time of Charles I. They had a language of their own. 

Owayn ap Gwynned, King of Aberfraw, or North Wales, had many warswith Henry II. ; and, uniting with the bard king, Owayn Cyvelioc, ofPowysland, did fearful damage to the English, which Henry attempted torevenge by an incursion into Merionethshire; but though he gained abattle at Ceiroc, he was forced to retreat through the inhospitablecountry, his troops harassed by the weather, and cut off by the Welsh, who swarmed on the mountains, so that his army arrived at Chester ina miserable state. He had many unfortunate hostages in his hands, thechildren of the noblest families, and on these he wreaked a cowardlyvengeance, cutting off the noses and ears of the maidens, and puttingout the eyes of the boys. 

Well might Becket, in his banishment, exclaim, on hearing such tidings, "His wise men are become fools; England reels and stagers like a drunkenman. "

"You will never subdue Wales, unless Heaven be against them, " said anold hermit to the King. 

However, Henry had been carried by a frightened horse over a ford, ofwhich the old prophecies declared that, when it should be crossed by afreckled king, the power of the Cymry should fall, and this superstitiontook away greatly from satisfaction in the victory. The Welsh princeswere becoming habituated to the tribute, and in 1188, under pretext ofpreaching a Crusade, Archbishop Baldwin came into Wales, and assertedthe long-disputed supremacy of Canterbury over the Welsh bishopries. He was attended by Gerald Barry, or Giraldus Cambrensis, a half-Normanhalf-Welsh ecclesiastic, who was one of the chief historians of theperiod, and had the ungracious office of tutor to Prince John. 

When Owayn ap Gwynned died, in 1169, the kingdom of Aberfraw, or NorthWales, was reduced to the isle of Anglesea and the counties of Merionethand Caernarvon, with parts of Denbigh and Cardigan. A great disputebroke out for the succession. Jorwarth, the oldest son, was set asidebecause he had a broken nose; and Davydd, the eldest son by a secondwife, seized the inheritance, and slew all the brethren save one, namedMadoc, who sailed away to the West in search of new regions. Severalyears after, he again made his appearance in Aberfraw, declaring that hehad found a pleasant country, and was come to collect colonists, withwhom, accordingly, he departed, and returned no more. Many have believedthat his Western Land was no other than America, and on this suppositionDrayton speaks of him, in the "Polyolbion, " as having reached the greatcontinent "Ere the Iberian powers had found her long-sought bay, or any western ear had heard the sound of Florida. "

Southey has, in his poem, made Madoc combine with the Aztecs in thesettlement of Mexico, but traces were said to be found of habits andcountenances resembling those of the Welsh among the Indians of theMissouri; and, in our own days, the traveller Mr. Buxton was struck byfinding the Indians of the Rocky Mountains weaving a fabric resemblingthe old Welsh blanket. If this be so, Christianity and civilization musthave died out among Madoc's descendants: but the story is one of theexciting riddles of history, such as the similar one of the earlyNorwegian discovery of America. 

 CAMEO XXXIII. 

 THE ENGLISH JUSTINIAN. (1272-1292. )

 _King of England_. 1272. Edward I. 

 _Kings of Scotland_. 1249. Alexander III. 1285. Margaret. 

 _Kings of France_. 1270. Philippe III. 1235. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1273. Rodolph I. 

 _Popes_. 1271. Gregory X. 1276. Innocent V. 1277. John XXI. 1277. Nicholas III. 1281. Martin IV. 1288. Nicholas IV. 

Never was coronation attended by more outward splendor or more heartfeltjoy than was that of Edward I. And Eleanor of Castile, when, fresh fromthe glory of their Crusade, they returned to their kingdom. 

Edward was the restorer of peace after a lengthened civil strife; hisprowess was a just subject of national pride, and the affection of hissubjects was further excited by the perils he had encountered. Not onlyhad he narrowly escaped the dagger of the Eastern assassin, but while atBordeaux, during his return, while the royal pair were sitting on thesame couch, a flash of lightning had passed between them, leavingthem uninjured, but killing two attendants who stood behind them. At Châlons-sur-Marne he had likewise been placed in great danger bytreachery. The Count de Châlons had invited him to a tournament, and hehad accepted, contrary to the advice of the Pope, who warned him of evildesigns; but he declared that no king ever refused such a challenge, andarrived at Châlons with a gallant following. The Pope's suspicionswere verified; the Count, after breaking a lance with the King, made asudden, unchivalrous attack on him, throwing his arms round his body, and striving to hurl him from the saddle; but Edward sat firm as a rock, and, touching his horse with his spur, caused it to bound forward, dragging the Count to the ground, where he lay, encumbered with his heavyarmor; and Edward, after harmlessly ringing on the steel with his sword, forced him to surrender to an archer, as one unworthy to be reckoned aknight. A fight had, in the meantime, taken place between the attendantson either side, and so many of the men of the French party were killed, that the fray was termed the Little Battle of Châlons. 

Two years had elapsed since the death of King Henry, when, on the 18thof August, 1274, the city of London welcomed their gallant, crusadingKing. The rejoicings attested both his popularity and the prosperitywhich his government had restored, for each house along the streets wasdecked with silk and tapestry hangings, the aldermen showered handfulsof gold and silver from their windows, and the fountains flowed withwhite and red wine. The King rode along the streets, in the pride ofmanhood, accompanied by his beautiful and beloved Eleanor; by hisbrother Edmund and his young wife, Eveline of Lancaster; his sisterMargaret and her husband, Alexander II. , the excellent King of Scotland;the young Princess Eleanor, a girl of eleven, who alone survived of thechildren left in England, and her infant brother Alfonso, who had beenborn at Maine, and was looked on as heir to the throne. The Princess, Joan of Acre, was left with her grandmother, the Queen of Castile. 

The two kings, the princes, and nobles, on arriving at WestminsterAbbey, released their gallant steeds to run loose among the people, afree gift to whoever should he able to catch them; for Edward had learntfrom his kindly father that the poor should have a plenteous share inall his festivities. 

There stood the West Minster on the bank of the Thames, rising amidgreen fields and trees, at a considerable distance from the walled city, and only connected with it by here and there a convent or church. Stillincomplete, the two fair towers showed the fresh creaminess of newstonework, their chiselings and mouldings as yet untouched by time, unsoiled by smoke, when Edward and his five hundred bold vassals sprangfrom their steeds before the gates. 

Among the train came a captive. Gaston de Monçda, Count de Béarn, one ofhis Gascon vassals, had offended against him, and appealing to thesuzerain, the King of France, had been by him delivered up to Edward'sjustice, and was forced to ride in the gorgeous procession with a halterround his neck. 

As soon as Archbishop Kilwardby had anointed and crowned the King andQueen, and the barons offered their homage, the unfortunate culprit cameforward on his knees to implore pardon, and Edward graced his coronationby an act of clemency, restoring Gaston fully to his lands and honors, and winning him thus to be his friend forever. 

The royal banquet was held in Westminster Hall, and far beyond it. Wooden buildings had been erected with openings at the top to let outthe smoke, and here, for a whole fortnight, cooking and feasting went onwithout intermission. Every comer, of every degree, was made welcome, and enjoyed the cheer, the pageantries, and the religious ceremonies ofthe coronation. Three hundred and eighty head of cattle, four hundredand thirty sheep, four hundred and fifty swine, besides eighteen wildboars, and two hundred and seventy-eight flitches of bacon, with poultryto the number of 19, 660, were only a part of the provisions consumed. 

However, the country still felt the effects of the lawless reign ofHenry III. , and Edward's first care was to set affairs on a more regularfooting. He sent commissioners to inquire into the title-deeds by whichall landed proprietors held their estates, and, wherever these weredefective, exacted, a fee for freshly granting them. The inquisitionmight be expedient, considering the late condition of the nation, but the King's own impoverished exchequer caused it to be carried onungraciously, and great offence was given. When called on to provehis claims, the Earl Warrenne drew his sword, saying, "This is theinstrument by which I hold my lands, and by the same I mean to defendthem. Our forefathers, who came in with William, the Bastard, acquiredtheir lands by their good swords. He did not conquer alone; they werehelpers and sharers with him. " The stout Earl's title was truly foundamply sufficient!'

Not so was it with the Jews, who inhabited England in great numbers, and were found through purchase, usury, or mortgage, to have becomepossessors of various estates, which conferred on them the power ofappearing on juries, of, in some cases, presenting to church benefices, and of the wardship of vassals. This was a serious grievance; and theKing interfered by decreeing that, in every instance, the lands shouldbe restored either to the original heirs on repayment of the originalloan, or disposed of to other Christians on the same terms. The Kingwas, by long custom of the realm, considered the absolute master of thelife and property of every Jew in his dominions, so that he was thoughtto be only taking his own when he exacted sums from them, or forced themto pay him a yearly rate for permission to live in his country and to actas money-lenders. Edward thus believed himself to be making a sacrificefor the general good when he forbade the Jews ever to lend money on usury, and in compensation granted them permission to trade without paying toll;and he further took the best means he could discover for procuring theconversion of this people. The Friars Preachers were commanded to instructthem, and the royal bailiffs to compel their attendance on this teaching;every favor was shown to proselytes, and a hospital was built for thesupport of the poorer among them, and maintained by the poll-tax obtainedfrom their race by the King. Should a Jew be converted, the King at oncegave up his claim to his property, only stipulating that half should goto support this foundation. One young maiden, child of a wealthy Jew ofLondon, on being converted, became a godchild of Edward's eldest daughter, Eleanor, whose name she received; and she was shortly after married to theCount de la Marcho, the King's cousin, and one of the noble line ofLusignan--a plain proof that in the royal family there was not the loathingfor the Israelite race that existed in Spain. 

The Jews were obliged to wear a distinctive mark on their dress--ayellow fold of cloth cut in the form of the two tables of the Law; and, thus distinguished, often became a mark for popular odium, which fastenedevery accusation upon them, from the secret murder of Christian childrento the defacing of the King's coin. There was, in fact, a great quantityof light money in circulation, and as halfpence and farthings wereliterally what their name declares--silver pennies cut into halves andquarters--it was easy for a thief to help himself to a portion of theedge. However, Edward called in these mutilated pieces, and issued acoinage of halfpence and farthings--that which raised the delusivehopes of the Welsh. The clipping became more evident than ever, and theresult was an order, that all suspected of the felony should be arrestedon the same day. Jews, as well as Christians were seized; the possessionof the mutilated coin was taken as a proof of guilt; and in 1279, aftera trial that occupied some months, and in which popular prejudice woulddoubtless make the case strong against the Jews, two hundred and eightypersons, male and female, were hanged on the same day; after which apardon was proclaimed. 

The English nation continued to hold the Jews in detestation, which wasregarded as a religious duty, and, year after year, petitioned the Kingto drive them out of his dominions; but his patience was sustained bycontinual gifts from the persecuted race until the year 1287, when, forsome unknown offence, he threw into prison the whole of them in hisdominions, up to the number of 15, 000; and though their release waspurchased by a gift of £12, 000, in 1290, their sentence of banishmentwas pronounced. He permitted them to carry away their property withthem, and sent his officers to protect them from injury or insult intheir embarkation; but in some instances the sailors, who hated theirfreight, threw them overboard, and seized their treasures. Thesemurders, when proved, were punished with death; but it was hard to gainjustice for a Jew against a Christian: and the edict of banishment wasregarded by the nation as such a favor, that the King was rewarded by agrant of a tenth from the clergy and a fifteenth from the laity. 

The merchants had earlier given him a large subsidy as a return for thetreaty which he had made in their favor with Flanders, which derived itswool from England. Edward was very anxious to promote manufactures here, and had striven to do so by forbidding the importation of foreign cloth;but this not succeeding, the mutual traffic was placed on a friendlyfooting. There was violent jealousy of foreigners among the English, and it was only in Edward's time that merchants of other countries wereallowed to settle in England, and then only under heavy restrictions. 

Edward I. Was the sovereign who, more than any other since Alfred, contributed to bring the internal condition of England into a state ofsecurity for life and limb. Robberies and murders had become frightfullycommon; so much so, that the Statute of Winton, in 1285, enacted that noditch, bush, or tree, capable of hiding a man, should be left within twohundred feet of any highway. If anything like this had been previouslyin force, it was no wonder that Davydd of Wales objected to having aroad made through his forest. 

In all walled towns the gates were to be kept shut from sunset tosunrise, and any stranger found at large after dark was liable to beseized by the watch; nor could he find lodging at night unless his hostwould be his surety. Thieves seem to have gone about in bands, so thattheir capture was a matter of danger and difficulty, and therefore, onthe alarm of a felony, every man was to issue forth with armor accordingto his degree, and raise the hue and cry from town to town till thecriminal was seized and delivered to the sheriff. The whole hundred wasanswerable for his capture--a remnant of the old Saxon law, and a mostwise regulation, since it rendered justice the business of every man, and also accustomed the peasantry to the use of arms, the great cause ofthe English victories. Judges were first appointed to go on circuit inthe year 1285, when they were sent into every shire two or three times ayear to hold a general jail delivery. But Edward had to form his judgesas well as his constitution, for, in 1289, he discovered that the wholebench were in the habit of receiving bribes, from the Grand Justiciarydownward: whereupon he threw them all into the Tower, banished the chiefoffenders, degraded and fined the rest, and caused future judges to besworn to take neither gift nor fee, only to accept as much as a breakfast, provided there was no excess. 

Still, the jurymen, [Footnote: On Thomas á Becket's last journey toCanterbury, Raoul de Broc's followers had cut off the tails of hispack-horses. It was a vulgar reproach to the men of Kent that theoutrage had been punished by the growth of the same appendage on thewhole of the inhabitants of the county; and, whereas the Englishpopulace applied the accusation to the Kentishmen, foreigners extendedit to the whole nation when in a humor for insult and abuse, such asthat of this unhappy prince. ] who were as much witnesses as what wenow call jurors, were often liable to be beaten and maltreated in revenge, and officers, called "justices of _trailebaston"_ were sent to search outthe like offences, which they did with success and good-will; and in, order that speedy justice might be done in cases of minor importance, local magistrates were appointed, the commencement of our present justicesof the peace. They were at first chosen by the votes of the freeholders, but in Edward III. 's time began to be nominated by the Crown. 

Robert Burnel, the Chancellor, Bishop of Bath and Wells, probably hada great share in these enactments. He was a better Chancellor thanBishop, but he left to his see the beautiful episcopal palace still inexistence at Wells. He also built a splendid castle at his native place, Acton Burnel, where some of the early Parliaments were held. 

These Parliaments were only summoned by Edward I. When in great want ofmoney, for in general he raised the needful sums by gifts and talliages, and only in cases of unusual pressure did he call on his subjects forfurther aid. Four knights were chosen from each shire, and two burgesses[Footnote: For a lively picture of a trial of the thirteenth century, see Sir F. Palgrave's "Merchant and Friar. "] from every town, ofconsequence; and, besides, bishops and the barons, who had their seatsby their rank; but the two houses were not always divided:--except, indeed, that sometimes the Northern representatives met at York, theSouthern at Northampton, and the county palatine of Durham had a littleparliament to itself. Serving in Parliament was expensive and unpopular, and the sheriff of the county had not only to preside over the electionof the member, but to send him safe to the place of meeting; and oftenthe Commons broke up as soon as they had granted the required sum, leaving the Lords to deliberate on the laws, or to bring grievancesbefore the King, such things being quite beyond their reach. 

It was a time of great prosperity to the whole country, and suchinternal tranquillity had scarcely prevailed since the time of HenryII. , when the difference between Saxon and Norman was far less smootheddown than at present, and the feudal system weighed far more heavily. 

Splendid castles were built, the King setting the example, and makingmore arrangements for comfort in the interior than had yet been venturedupon; and sacred architecture came to the highest perfection it has everattained. 

Wherever we find a portion of our cathedrals with deep mouldings inmassive walls, slender columns of darker marble standing detached fromfreestone piers, sharply-pointed arches, capitals of rich foliagefolding over the hollow formed by their curve, and windows either narrowlancet, or with the flowing lines of flamboyant tracery, there we arecertain to hear that this part was added in the thirteenth century. 

Edward gave liberally to the Church, especially to the order ofDominican, or Preaching Friars; but it was found that in some instancesthe clergy had worked on men's consciences to obtain from them thebequest of lands to the injury of their heirs, and a statute wastherefore passed to prevent such legacies from being valid unless theyreceived the sanction of the Crown. This was called the Statute of_Mortmain_, or Dead Hands, because the framers of the act considered thehands of the monastic orders as dead and unprofitable. 

Even the world itself could hardly award the meed of unprofitable to thestudies of Roger Bacon, a native of Ilchester, born in 1214, who, afterstudying at Oxford and at Paris, became a member of the Franciscan, orMinorite Friars, and settled again at Oxford, where he pursued his studiesunder the patronage of Bishop Robert Grostête. He made himself a perfectmaster of Greek in order to understand Aristotle in the original, andworking on by himself he proceeded far beyond any chemist of his time indiscoveries in natural philosophy. Grostête and the more enlightened menof the university provided him with means to carry on his experiments, and, in twenty years he had expended no less than £2, 000: but not withoutmighty results; for he ascertained the true length of the solar year, mademany useful discoveries in chemistry and medicine, and anticipated many ofthe modern uses of glass, learning the powers of convex and concave lensesfor the telescope, microscope, burning-glasses, and the camera obscura. 

Above all, he was the inventor of gunpowder, the compound which wasdestined to change the whole character of warfare and the destiny ofnations. But he was too much in advance of his time to be understood, andthe friars of his order, becoming terrified by his experiments, decidedthat he was a magician, and after the death of his friend Grostête, kepthim in close confinement, and only permitted one copy of hisworks to pass out of the monastery, and this, which was sentto the Pope, Clement IV. , procured his liberation. A few yearsafter, the General of the Franciscans, again taking fright, imprisoned him once more, and this lasted eleven or twelve years; but PopeNicholas IV. Again released him, and neither age nor imprisonment couldbreak down his energy; he continued steadily to pursue his discoveries, and add a further polish to his various works, till his death, in 1292. Little as he was appreciated, he left a strong impression on the popularmind. 

Tradition declares that he constructed a huge head of brass, whichuttered the words, "Time is! Time was! Time will be!" and has connectedthis with Brazen-Nose College, which, not having been founded till onehundred years after, must in that case, as Fuller says, make time to beagain. 

He is a hero of the popular chap-books of old times, where he and hisassociate, Friar Bungay, are represented as playing tricks on hisservant Miles, and as summoning the spirits of Julius Caesar and Herculesfor the edification of the kings of France and England, from whom, however, he would accept no reward. Legends vary between his being flownaway with bodily by demons, and his making a grand repentance, when heconfessed that knowledge had been a heavy burden, that kept down goodthoughts, burnt his books, parted with his goods, and caused himself tobe walled up in a cell in the church and fed through a hole, and finallydug his grave with his own nails! Thus, probably, has ignorant traditionperverted the sense that coming death would surely bring, that earthlyknowledge is but vanity. 

Still worse has fared his friend, Michael Scott of Balwirie, called bythe learned the Mathematician, by the unlearned, the Wizard. After theusual course of university learning at Oxford and Paris, he went toItaly, where he gained the patronage of the Emperor Friedrich II. He waslearned in Greek and in Arabic, and an excellent mathematician, buthe bewildered himself with alchemy and astrology; and, though he diedunmolested in his own country, in 1290 his fame remained in no goododor. Dante describes him among those whose faces were turned backward, because they had refused to turn the right way:

 "Michele Scotto fu, che veramente De le magiche frode seppe il gioco. "

In Scotland marvellous tales were current of him, and his own clansman, Sir Walter, in his lay, has spread the mysterious tale of the Wizard andhis mighty book far and wide. 

It was a period of very considerable learning among the studious amongthe clergy in all countries, and every art of peace was making rapidprogress in England, under the fostering care of the King and Queen. Nosovereign was more respected in Europe than Edward; his contemporary, Dante, cites him as an instance of a gallant son of a feeble parent: andhe was often called on as the arbiter of disputes, as when the kings ofArragon and France defied each other to a wager of battle, to take placein his dominions in Southern France, which combat, however, never tookplace. He was a most faithful and affectionate husband and indulgentfather, and the household rolls afford evidences of the kindlyintercourse between him and his numerous daughters, judging by theinterchange of gifts between them. Eleanor, the eldest, who as princesscould only give a gold ring, when Duchesse de Bar brought as aChristmas-gift a leathern dressing-case, containing a comb, a mirrorsilver-gilt, and a silver bodkin, so much valued by the King that hekept them with him as long as he lived. 

Joan of Acre, a wilful, lively girl, was wedded when very young toher father's turbulent friend, Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester;Margaret was married, at fifteen, to the Duke of Brabant; and Mary wasdevoted to the cloister. She became a nun of Fontevraud at the prioryAmbresbury, in accordance with the exhortations of the clergy toher parents; but there was not much vocation to the cloister in herdisposition, and she was as often present at court pageants as hersecular sisters. The Abbess of Fontevraud would fain have had theprincess among her own nuns, but Mary resisted, and remained in thebranch establishment, probably by exerting her influence over herfather, who seems seldom to have refused anything to his children. 

Stern in executing his duty, gentle to the distressed, most devout inreligious exercises, pure in life, true to his word, a wise lawgiver, and steady in putting down vice, Edward seemed to be well deserving ofthe honor of being the nephew of St. Louis, and to be walking in hisfootsteps, but with greater force of character and good sense. The HolyLand was still the object of his thoughts, and he had serious intentionsof attempting to rescue it, with forces now more complete and bettertrained than those which he had drawn together in his younger days. His views of this kind were strengthened by a serious illness, and heannounced his determination to take the Cross. 

But in the twentieth year of Edward's reign came his great temptation. Ambition was the latent fault of his character, and a decision wasbrought before him that placed a flattering prize within his grasp. Heyielded, and seized the prey; injustice, violence, anger, and crueltyfollowed, promises were violated, his subjects oppressed, his honorforfeited, and his name stained. From the time that Edward I. Gave wayto the lust of conquest, his history is one of painful deterioration. 

It was unfortunate for him that, at the very time that the lure washeld out to him, he was deprived of the gentle wife whose influence hadalways turned him to the better course. Eleanor of Castile was on herway to join him on his first expedition to the Scottish border, when shefell sick at Grantham, in Lincolnshire; and though he travelled day andnight to see her, she died before his arrival, on the 29th of November, 1292. In overwhelming grief Edward accompanied her funeral toWestminster, a journey of thirteen days. Each evening the bier restedin the market-place of the town, where the procession halted, till theclergy came to convey it with solemn chantings to the chief church, where it was placed before the high altar. At each of theseresting-places Edward raised a richly-carved market cross in memory ofhis queen; but, of the whole thirteen, Northampton and Waltham are theonly towns that have retained these beautiful monuments to the graciousEleanor, one of the best-beloved names of our English history. 

 CAMEO XXXIV. 

 THE HAMMER OF THE SCOTS. (1292-1305. )

 _King of England_. 1272. Edward I. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1292. John Balliol. 

 _King of France_. 1285. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1292. Adolph. 1298. Albert I. 

 _Popes_. 1287. Nicholas IV. 1291. Boniface VIII. 1294. Celestine V. 1303. Benedict XI. 

The gallant line of Scottish kings descended from "the gracious Duncan"suddenly decayed and dwindled away in the latter part of the thirteenthcentury. They had generally been on friendly terms with the English, towhom Malcolm Ceanmore and Edgar both owed their crown; they had usuallymarried ladies of English birth; and holding the earldom of Huntingdon, the county of Cumberland, and the three Lothians, under the Englishcrown, they stood in nearly the same relation to our Anglo-Normansovereigns as did these to the kings of France. If France were esteemeda more polished country, and her language and manners were adopted bythe Plantagenet kings, who were French nobles as well as independentsovereigns of the ruder Saxons, so, again, England was the model ofcourtesy and refinement to the earlier Scottish kings, who, in the rightof inheritance from St. David's queen, Earl Waltheof's heiress, werebarons of the civilized court of England, where they learnt modes oftaming their own savage Highland and island domains. 

Thus, with few exceptions, the terms of alliance were well understood, and many of the Cumbrian barons were liegemen to both the Englishand Scottish kings. Scotland was in a flourishing and fast-improvingcondition, and there was no mutual enmity or jealousy between the twonations. 

Alexander III. Was the husband of Margaret, the eldest sister of EdwardI. , and frequently was present at the pageants of the English court. Hewas a brave and beloved monarch, and his wife was much honored and lovedin Scotland; but, while still a young man, a succession of misfortunesbefell him. His queen died in 1275, and his only son a year or twoafter; his only other child, Margaret, who had been married to Eric, Prince of Norway, likewise died, leaving an infant daughter namedMargaret. 

Finding himself left childless, Alexander contracted a second marriagewith Yolande, daughter of the Count de Dreux; and a splendid bridal tookplace at Jedburgh, with every kind of amusements, especially mummingand masquing. In the midst, some reckless reveller glided in arrayed inghastly vestments, so as to personate death, and after making fearfulgestures, vanished away, leaving an impression of terror among theguests that they did not quickly shake off--the jest was tooearnest. 

Less than a year subsequently, Alexander gave a great feast to hisnobles at Edinburgh, on the 15th of March, 1286. It was a mostunsuitable day for banquetting, for it was Lent; and, moreover, popularimagination, always trying to guess the times and seasons only known tothe Most High, had fixed on tins as destined to be the Last Day. 

But the Scottish nobles feasted and revelled, mocking at the delusionof the populace, till, when at a late hour they broke up, the night wasdiscovered to be intensely dark and stormy. King Alexander was, however, bent on joining his queen, who was at Kinghorn--perhaps he had promisedto come to calm her alarms--and all the objections urged by his servantscould not deter him. He bade one of his servants remain at home, sincehe seemed to fear the storm. "No, my lord, " said the man, "it would illbecome me to refuse to die for your father's son. "

At Inverkeithing the storm became more violent, and again the royalfollowers remonstrated; but the King laughed at them, and only desiredto have two runners to show him the way, when they might all remain inshelter. 

He was thought to have been "fey"--namely, in high spirits--recklesslyhastening to a violent death; for as he rode along the crags close aboveKinghorn, his horse suddenly stumbled, and he was thrown over its headto the bottom of a frightful precipice, where he lay dead. The spot isstill called the King's Crag. 

Truly it was the last day of Scotland's peace and prosperity. Thomas ofEreildoune, called the Rymour, who was believed to possess second sight, had declared that on the 16th of March the greatest wind should blowbefore noon that Scotland had ever known. The morning, however, rosefair and calm, and he was reproached for his prediction. "Noon is notyet gone!" he answered; and ere long came a messenger to the gate, withtidings that the King was killed. "Gone is the wind that shall blowto the great calamity and trouble of all Scotland, " said Thomas theRymour--a saying that needed no powers of prophecy, when the onlyremaining scion of the royal line was a girl of two years old, the childof a foreign prince, himself only eighteen years of age. 

The oldest poem in the Scottish tongue that has been preserved is alament over the last son of St. David. 

 "When Alysander, our king, was dead, That Scotland led in love and lee, Away was sons of ale and bread, Of wine and wax, of game and glee; Our gold was changed into lead. Christ, born in to virginity, Succour Scotland, and remede That stead is in perplexity. "

The perplexity began at once, for the realm of Scotland had never yetdescended to the "spindle, " and the rights of the little "Maid ofNorway" were contested by her cousins, Robert Bruce and John Balliol, two of the Cumbrian barons, half-Scottish and half-English, who, thoughtheir claims were only through females, thought themselves fitter torule than the infant Margaret. 

Young Eric of Norway sent to entreat counsel from Edward of England, andthus first kindled his hopes of uniting the whole island under his sway. "Now, " he said, "the time is come when Scotland and her petty kingsshall be reduced under my power. " The Scottish nobles came at the sametime to request his decision, which was readily given in favor of thelittle heiress, whom he further proposed to betroth to his only son, Edward of Caernarvon; and as the children were first cousins onceremoved, he sent to Rome for a dispensation, while Margaret sailed fromNorway to be placed in his keeping. Thus would the young Prince havepeaceably succeeded to the whole British dominions; but the will ofHeaven was otherwise, and three hundred years of war were to elapsebefore the crowns were placed on the same brow. 

The stormy passage from Norway was injurious to the tender frame of thelittle Queen: she was landed in the Orkney Isles, in the hope of savingher life, but in vain; she died, after having scarcely touched herdominions, happy in being spared so wild a kingdom and so helpless ahusband as were awaiting her. 

Twelve claimants for the vacant throne at once arose, all so distantthat it was a nice matter to weigh their several rights, since the verynearest were descendants of Henry, son of St. David, five generationsback. 

The Scots agreed to refer the question to the arbitration of onehitherto so noted for wisdom and justice as Edward I. They little knewthat their realm was the very temptation that was most liable to drawhim aside from the strict probity he had hitherto observed. 

He called on the competitors and the states of Scotland to meet him atNorham Castle on the 10th of May, 1291, and the conference was opened byhis justiciary, Robert Brabazon, who, in a speech of some length, called on the assembly to begin by owning the King as Lord Paramount ofScotland. 

It had never been fully understood for how much of their domains theScottish kings did homage to the English, and the more prudent princeshad avoided opening the question, so that there might honestly be twoopinions on the subject. Still Edward was acting as the King of Francewould have done had he claimed to be Paramount of England, becauseEdward paid homage for Gascony, and he ought to have known that he wastaking an ungenerous advantage of the kingless state of his neighbors. 

They made answer that they were incapable of making such anacknowledgment; but Edward answered, "Tell them that by the holy St. Edward, whose crown I wear, I will either have my rights recognized, ordie in the vindication of them. "

He gave them three weeks to consider his challenge, but in themeantime issued writs for assembling his army; and thus left the morequietly-disposed to expect an invasion, without any leader to oppose it;while each of the twelve claimants could not but conceive the hope ofbeing raised to the throne, if he would consent to make the requiredacknowledgment. 

Accordingly, they all yielded; and when the next meeting took place atHollywell Haugh, a green plain close to "Norham's castled height, "the whole body owned Edward as their feudal superior; after which thekingdom of Scotland was delivered over to him, and the great seal placedin the joint keeping of the Scottish and English chancellors. 

In the following year, on the 17th of November, the final decision wasmade. Nine of the claimants had such frivolous claims, that no attentionwas paid to them, and the only ones worth consideration were thosederived from David, Earl of Huntingdon, the crusading comrade of Coeurde Lion, and son of Henry, son of St. David. This Earl had left threedaughters, Margaret, Isabel, and Ada. Margaret had married Allan ofGalloway, and John Balliol was the son of her only daughter Devorgoil. Isabel married Robert Bruce, and her son, Robert, Earl of Carrick, wasthe claimant; and Ada had left a grandson, Florence Hastings, Earl ofHolland. 

A baron leaving daughters alone would divide his heritage equally amongthem, and this was what Hastings desired; but Scotland was pronouncedindivisible, and he retired from the field. Bruce contended that, as sonof one sister, he was nearer the throne than the grandson of the other, although the elder; but this was completely untenable, and Balliol, having been adjudged the rightful heir, was declared King of Scotland, was crowned, and paid homage to Edward. 

He soon found that the fealty he had sworn was not, as he had hoped, to be a mere dead letter, as with the former kings. Edward used tothe utmost the suzerain's privilege of hearing appeals from thevassal-prince--a practice never put in force by his predecessors, andexcessively galling to the new Scottish King, who found himself fetteredin all his measures, and degraded in the eyes of his rude and savagesubjects, who regarded him as having given away the honor of theircrown. Whenever there was an appeal, he was cited to appear in person atthe English court, and was treated, in fact, like a mere feudal noble, instead of the King of a brave and ancient kingdom. Indeed, the Scotscalled him the "toom tabard, " or empty herald's coat--a name notunsuited to such a king of vain show. 

By and by a war broke out between England and France, and Edward sentsummonses to the Scottish barons to attend him with their vassals. Itwas no concern of theirs, and many flatly refused to come, whereuponhe declared them to have forfeited their fiefs, and thus pushed hisinterference beyond their endurance. John Balliol, their unfortunateKing, who was personally attached to Edward, and at the same timegreatly in dread of his fierce vassals, was utterly confused anddistressed; and finding no help in him, his subjects seized him, placedhim in a fortress, under the keeping of a council of twelve, and in hisname declared war against England. 

Robert Bruce, Earl of Carrick. To whom his father's claims haddescended, remained faithful to King Edward, who, to punish therebellion of the Scots, collected an army of 30, 000 foot and 4, 000horse, and, with the sacred standards of Durham at their head, marchedthem into Scotland. Berwick, then a considerable merchant-town, closedher gates against him, and further provoked him by the plunder of someEnglish merchant-ships. He offered terms of surrender, but these wererefused; and he led his men to the assault of the dyke, that was theonly defence of the town. He was the first to leap the dyke on his horseBayard, and the place was won after a brave resistance, sufficient toarouse the passions of the soldiery, who made a most shocking massacre, without respect to age or sex. 

The report of these horrors so shocked John Balliol, that he sent torenounce his allegiance to Edward, and to defy his power. "Felon andfool!" cried Edward, "if he will not come to us, we must go to him. "

So frightful ravages were carried on by the English on one side and theScots on the other, till a battle took place at Dunbar, which so utterlyruined the Scots, that they were forced to make submission, and Balliolsued for peace. But Edward would not treat with him as a king, and onlysent Anthony Beck, the Bishop of Durham, to meet him at Brechin. He wasforced to appear, and was declared a rebel, stripped of his crown androbes, and made to stand with a white rod in his hand, confessing thathe had acted rebelliously, and that Edward had justly invaded hisrealm. After this humiliation, he resigned all his rights to Scotland, declaring himself worn out with the malice and fraud of the nation, which was probably quite true. He was sent at first to the Tower, butafterward was released, lived peaceably on his estates in France, andfounded the college at Oxford that bears his name and arms. 

The misfortunes endured by this puppet did not deter the Earl of Carrickfrom aspiring to his seat; but Edward harshly answered, "Have I nothingto do but to conquer kingdoms for you?" and sent him away with hiseldest son, a third Robert Bruce, to pacify their own territories ofCarrick and Annandale. Edward did nothing without law enough to make himbelieve himself in the right, and poor Balliol's forfeiture gave him, as he imagined, the power to assume Scotland as a fief of his own. Hecaused himself to be acknowledged as King of Scotland, destroyed the oldScottish charters, and transported to Westminster the Scottish crown andsceptre, together with the stone from Scone Abbey, on which, from timeimmemorial, the Kings of Scotland had been placed when crowned andanointed. All the castles were delivered up into his hands, and everynoble in his dominions gave him the oath of allegiance, excepting one, William, Lord Douglas, who steadily refused, and was therefore carriedoff a prisoner to England, where he remained to the day of his death. 

Edward did not come in as a severe or cruel conqueror; he gaveprivileges to the Scottish clergy, and re-instated the families of thebarons killed in the war. Doubtless he hoped to do great good to the wildpopulation, and bring them into the same order as the English; but theflaw in his title made this impossible; the Scots regarded his soldiery astheir enemies and oppressors, and though the nobles had given in aself-interested adhesion to the new government, they abhorred it all thetime, and the mutual hatred between the English garrisons and Scottishinhabitants led to outrages in which neither party was free from blame. 

As Hereward the Saxon had been stirred up against the Norman invaders, so a champion arose who kept alive the memory of Scottish independence. 

William Wallace was the younger son of Sir Malcolm Wallace of Ellerslie, near Paisley, one of the lesser gentry, not sufficiently high in rank tobe required to take oaths to the English King. William was a youth ofunusual stature, noble countenance, and great personal strength andskill in the use of arms, and he grew up with a violent hatred to theEnglish usurpers, which various circumstances combined to foster. Whilevery young, he had been fishing in the river Irvine, attended by a boywho carried his basket, when some English soldiers, belonging to thegarrison of Ayr meeting him, insisted on seizing his trout. A fray tookplace, and Wallace killed the foremost Englishman with a blow from thebutt of his fishing-rod, took his sword, and put the rest to flight. 

This obliged him to fly to the hills. But in those lawless times suchadventures soon blew over, and, a year or two after, he was walking inthe market-place of Lanark, dressed in green, and with, a dagger by hisside, when an Englishman, coming up, insulted him on account of his gayattire, and his passionate temper, thus inflamed, led to a fray, inwhich the Englishman was killed. He then fled to the house where he waslodging, and while the sheriff and his force were endeavoring to breakin, the lady of the house contrived his escape by a back way to a rockyglen called the Crags, where he hid himself in a cave. The disappointedsheriff wreaked his vengeance on the unfortunate lady, slew her, andburnt the house. 

Thenceforth Wallace was an outlaw, and the most implacable foe to theEnglish. In his wild retreat he quickly gathered round him other menill-used, or discontented, or patriotic, or lovers of the wild lifewhich he led, and at their head he not only cut off the parties sent toseize him, but watched his opportunity for marauding on the English ortheir allies. There is a horrible story that the English governor ofAyr, treacherously inviting the Scottish gentry to a feast, hung themall as they entered, and that Wallace revenged the slaughter withequal cruelty by burning the English alive in their sleep in the verybuildings where the murder took place, the Barns of Ayr, as they werecalled. The history is unauthenticated, but it is believed in theneighborhood of Ayr, and has been handed down by Wallace's Homer, Blind Harry, whose poem on the exploits of the Knight of Ellerslie waspublished sixty years from this time. 

The fame of Wallace's prowess swelled his party, and many knights andnobles began to join him. He raised his banner in the name of King Johnof Scotland, and, with the help of another outlaw chief, Sir WilliamDouglas, pounced on the English justiciary, Ormesby, while holding hiscourt at Scone, put him to flight, and seized a large booty and manyprisoners. 

His forays were the more successful because the King was absent inEngland, and the Chancellor, Hugh Cressingham, was not well agreed withthe lay-governor, John de Warrenne, Earl of Surrey. Many of the highernobility took his side, among them the younger Robert Bruce; but as theEnglish force began to be marshalled against him, they took flight fortheir estates, and returned to the stronger party. It may have been thatthey found that Wallace was not a suitable chief for more than a merepartisan camp; brave as he was, he could not keep men of higher rank inobedience. He lived by plunder, and horrible atrocities were constantlycommitted by his men, especially against such English clergy as hadreceived Scottish preferment. Whenever one of these fell into theirhands, his sacred character could not save him; his arms were tiedbehind his back, and he was thrown from a high bridge into a river, while the merciless Scots derided his agony. 

Warrene and Cressingham drew together a mighty force, and marched to therelief of Stirling, which Wallace had threatened. The Scots had cometogether to the number of 40, 000, but they had only 180 horse; andWarrenne had 50, 000 foot and 1, 000 horse. The Scots were, however, in afar more favorable position, encamped on the higher ground on the bankof the river Forth; and Warrenne, wishing to avoid a battle, sent twofriars to propose terms. "Return to your friends, " said Wallace; "tellthem we came with no peaceful intent, but determined to avenge ourselvesand set our country free. Let them come and attack us; we are ready tomeet them beard to beard. "

On hearing this answer, the English shouted to be led against the boldrebel; but the more prudent leaders thought it folly to attempt to crossthe bridge, exposed as it, was to the enemy, but that a chosen bodyshould cross a ford, attack them in the flank, and clear the way. Cressingham thought this policy timid. "Why, " said he to Warrenne, "should we protract the war, and spend the King's money? Let us pass on, and do our duty!"

Warrenne weakly gave way, and the English troops began to cross thebridge, the Scots retaining their post on the high ground until SirMarmaduke Twenge, an English knight, impetuously spurred up the hill, when about half the army had crossed, and charged the Scottish ranks. Inthe meantime, Wallace had sent a chosen force to march down the side ofthe hill and cut off the troops who had crossed from the foot ofthe bridge, and he himself, rushing down on the advancing horsemen, entirely, broke them, and made a fearful slaughter of all on that sideof the river, seizing on the bridge, so that there was no escape. One ofthe knights proposed to swim their horses across the river. "What!" saidSir Marmaduke Twenge, "drown myself, when I can cut my way through themidst of them by the bridge? Never let such foul slander fall on me!"He then set spurs to his horse, and, with his nephew and armor-bearer, forced his way back to his friends, across the bridge, by weight ofman and horse, through the far more slightly-armed Scots. Warrennewas obliged to march off, with, the loss of half his army, and ofCressingham, whose corpse was found lying on the plain, and wasbarbarously, mangled by the Scots. They cut the skin into pieces, andused it for saddle-girths; even Wallace himself being said to have had asword-belt made of it. 

This decisive victory threw the greater part of Scotland into Wallace'shands; and though most of the great earls still held with the English, the towns and castles were given up to him, and the mass of the peoplewas with him. He plundered without mercy the lands of such as wouldnot join him, and pushed his forays into England, where he frightfullyravaged Cumberland and Northumberland; and from St. Luke's to St. Martin's-day all was terror and dismay, not a priest remaining betweenNewcastle and Carlisle to say mass. At last the winter drove him back, and on his return he went to Hexham, a rich convent, which had beenplundered on the advance, but to which three of the monks had justreturned, hoping the danger was over. Seeing the enemy entering, theyfled into a little chapel; but the Scots had seen them, and, rushing onthem, demanded their treasures. "Alas!" said they, "you yourselves bestknow where they are!" Wallace, coming in, silenced his men, and bade thepriests say mass; but in one moment, while he turned aside to take offhis helmet, his fierce soldiery snatched away the chalice from thealtar, and tore off the ornaments and sacred vestments. He ordered thatthe perpetrators should be put to death, and said to the priests, "Mypresence alone can secure you. My men are evil-disposed. I cannotjustify, I dare not punish them. "

On returning to Scotland, he assumed the title of Governor, and stroveto bring matters into a more regular state, but without success; thegreat nobles either feared to offend the English, or would not submit tohis authority. 

In 1298, Edward, having freed himself from his difficulties in Englandand France, hurried to the North to put down in person what in his eyeswas not patriotism, but rebellion. How violently enraged he was, wasshown by his speech to Sir John Marmaduke, who was sent by Anthony Beck, Bishop of Durham, to ask his pleasure respecting Dirleton Castle and twoother fortresses to which he had laid siege. "Tell Anthony, " he said, "that he is right to be pacific when he is acting the bishop, but that, in his present business, he must forget his calling. As for yourself, you are a relentless soldier, and I have too often had to reprove youfor too cruel an exultation over the death of your enemies. But, now, return whence you came, and be as relentless as you choose; you willhave my thanks, not my censure; and, look you, do not see my face againtill those three castles be razed to the ground. "

The castles were taken and overthrown, but the difficulties of theEnglish continued to be great; the fleet was detained by contrary winds, and this delay of supplies caused a famine in the camp. Edward wasobliged to command a retreat; but at that juncture, just as the countrywas so nearly rescued by the wise dispositions of Wallace, two Scottishnobles, the Earls of Dunbar and Angus, were led by a mean jealousy tobetray him to the English, disclosing the place where he was encamped inthe forest of Falkirk, and his intention of making a night-attack uponthe English. 

Edward was greatly rejoiced at the intelligence. "Thanks be to God, " heexclaimed, "who has saved me from every danger! They need not come afterme, since I will go to meet them. "

He immediately put on his armor, and rode through the camp, calling onhis soldiers to march immediately, and at three o'clock in the afternoonall were on their way to Falkirk. They halted for the night on a heath, where they lay down to sleep in their armor, with their horses picketedbeside them In the course of the night the King's horse trod upon him, breaking two of his ribs; and a cry arose among those around him that hewas slain, and the enemy were upon them. But Edward, regardless of thepain, made the alarm serve as a reveillè, mounted his horse, rallied histroops, and, as it was near morning, gave orders to march. The light ofthe rising sun showed, on the top of the opposite hill, the lances ofthe Scottish advanced guard; but when they reached the summit, theyfound it deserted, and in the distance could see the enemy preparingfor battle, the foot drawn up in four compact bodies of pikemen, theforemost rank kneeling, so that the spears of those behind rested ontheir shoulders. "I have brought you to the ring; hop if ye can, " wasthe brief exhortation of the outlawed patriot to his men; and grim wasthe dance prepared for them. 

Edward heard mass in a tent set up on the hill, and afterward held acouncil on the manner of attack. An immediate advance was determined on, and they charged the Scots with great fury. The horse, consisting of thetime-serving and cowardly nobility, fled without a blow, leaving Wallaceand his archers unsupported, to be overwhelmed by the numbers of theEnglish. Wallace, after a long resistance, was compelled to retreat intothe woods, with a loss of 15, 000, while on the English side the slainwere very few. 

Edward pushed on, carrying all before him, and wasting the country withfire and sword; but, as has happened in every invasion of Scotland, famine proved his chief enemy, and he was obliged to return toEngland, leaving unsubdued all the lands north of the Forth. But hisdetermination was sternly fixed, and he made everything else give way tohis Scottish wars. 

The last stronghold which held out against him was Stirling Castle, under Sir William Oliphant, who, with only one hundred and forty men, for ninety days resisted with the most desperate valor; when the wallswere broken down, taking shelter in caverns hewn out of the rock onwhich their fortress was founded. Edward, who led the attack, was oftenexposed to great danger; his horse was thrown down by a stone, and hisarmor pierced by an arrow; but he would not consent to use greaterprecautions, saying that he fought in a just war, and Heaven wouldprotect him. At last the brave garrison were reduced to surrender, andcame down from their castle in a miserable, dejected state, to implorehis mercy. The tenderness of his nature revived as he saw brave men insuch a condition. He could not restrain his tears, and he received themto his favor, sending them in safety to England. 

Scotland was now completely tranquil, and entirely reduced. Every noblehad sworn allegiance, every castle was garrisoned by English. Balliolwas in Normandy, Bruce in the English army, and at last, in August, 1305, the brave outlaw, Sir William Wallace, was, by his former friend, Monteith, betrayed into the hands of the English. He was brought toWestminster, tried as a traitor to King Edward, and sentenced to die. Hehad never sworn fealty to Edward, but this could not save him; and onthe 23d of August, 1305, he was dragged on a hurdle to Smithfield, and suffered the frightful death that the English laws allotted to atraitor. His head was placed on a pole on London Bridge, and his severallimbs sent to the different towns in Scotland, where they were regardedfar more as relics than as tokens of disgrace. 

Had Edward appreciated and pardoned the gallant Scot, it would havebeen a noble deed. But his death should not be regarded as an act ofpersonal, revenge. Wallace had disregarded many a proclamation ofmercy, and had carried on a most savage warfare upon the Scots who hadsubmitted to the English with every circumstance of cruelty. Edward, who believed himself the rightful King, was not likely to regard him asotherwise than a pertinacious bandit, with whom the law might properlytake its course. More mercy might have been hoped from the prince whofought hand to hand with Adam de Gourdon; but ambition had greatlywarped and changed Edward since those days, and the fifteen years ofeffort to retain his usurpation had hardened his whole nature. 

Wallace himself, half a robber, half a knight, has won for himself aplace in the affections of his countrymen, and has lived ever since instory and song. To the last century it was regarded as rude to turn aloaf in the presence of a Monteith, because that was the signal for theadmission of the soldiers who seized Wallace; and there can be littledoubt that this constant recollection was well deserved, sinceassuredly it was the spirit of resistance maintained by Wallace, thoughunsuccessful, that lived to flourish again after his death. 

He was one of those men whose self-devotion bears visible fruits. 

 CAMEO XXXV. 

 THE EVIL TOLL. (1294-1305. )

 _King of England_. 1272. Edward I. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1296. Edward I. 

 _King of France_. 1285. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1292. Adolf. 1298. Albert I. 

 _Popes_. 1294. Boniface VIII. 1303. Benedict XI. 

Unlike the former Plantagenets, Edward I. Was a thorough Englishman; hisschemes, both for good and evil, were entirely insular; and as he becamemore engrossed in the Scottish war, he almost neglected his relationswith the Continent. 

One of the most wily and unscrupulous men who ever wore a crown wasseated on the throne of France--the fair-faced and false-heartedPhilippe IV. , the "pest of France, " the oppressor of the Church, and themurderer of the Templars; and eagerly did he watch to take any advantageof the needs of his mighty vassal in Aquitaine. 

Edward had made alliances to strengthen himself. He had married hisdaughter Eleanor to the Count of Bar, and Margaret to the heir ofBrabant, and betrothed his son Edward to the only daughter of GuyDampierre, Count of Flanders, thus hoping to restrain Philippe withoutbreaking the peace. 

Unluckily, in 1294, a sailors' quarrel took place between the crews ofan English and a Norman ship upon the French coast. They had both landedto replenish their stock of water, and disputed which had the rightfirst to fill their casks. In the fray, a Norman was killed, and hisshipmates, escaping, took their revenge by boarding another Englishvessel, and hanging a poor, innocent Bayonne merchant from the masthead, with a dog fastened to his feet. Retaliation followed upon revenge; andwhile the two kings professed to be at peace, every ship from theirports went armed, and fierce struggles took place wherever there was anencounter. Slaughter and plunder fell upon the defeated, for the sailorswere little better than savage pirates, and were unrestrained byauthority. Edward, who had a right to a share in all captures made byhis subjects, refused to accept of any portion of these, though he didnot put a stop to them. The Irish and Dutch vessels took part with theEnglish, the Genoese with the French. At last, upward of two hundredFrench ships met at St. Mahé in Brittany, and their crews rejoiced overthe captures which they had obtained, and held a great carousal. Eightywell-manned English vessels had, however, sailed from the Cinque Ports, and, surrounding St. Mahé, sent a challenge to their enemies. It wasaccepted; a ship was moored in the midst, as a point round which the twofleets might assemble, and a hot contest took place, fiercely foughtupon either side; but English seamanship prevailed over superiornumbers, every French ship was sunk or taken, and, horrible to relate, not one of their crews was spared. 

Such destruction provoked Philippe, and he summoned Edward, as Duke ofAquitaine, to deliver up to him such Gascons as had taken part in thebattle. This Edward neglected, whereupon Philippe sent to seize thelands of Perigord, and, on being repulsed by the seneschal, called onEdward to appear at his court within twenty days, to answer for hismisdeeds, on pain of forfeiting the province of Gascony. Edward sentfirst the Bishop of London, and afterward his brother Edmund Crouchback, to represent him. Edmund's second wife was the mother of Philippe'squeen, and it was therefore expected that he would the more easily cometo terms, especially as he was commissioned to offer the hand of hisroyal brother to Blanche, the sister of Philippe, a maiden who inheritedthe unusual beauty of her family. Apparently all was easily arranged:Philippe promised Edmund that if, as a matter of form, Gascony were putinto his hands by way of forfeit, it should be restored at the end offorty days on the intercession of the two ladies, and Blanche should bebetrothed to the King. 

All was thus arranged. But at the end of the forty days it proved thatwhat Philippe had once grasped he had no notion of releasing; and, moreover, that Blanche la Belle was promised to Albert of Hapsburg! IfEdward chose to marry any French princess at all, he was welcome toher little sister Marguerite, a child of eleven, while Edward wasfifty-five. The excuse offered was, that Edward, had not obeyed thesummons in person, and that another outrage had been perpetrated on thecoast. After another summons, he was adjudged to lose not only Gascony, but all Aquitaine. 

On discovering how he had been duped, Edward's first impulse was to sendout his writs to collect his vassals to recover Gascony, chastise theinsolent ill faith of Philippe, and to stir up his foreign connectionsto support him. He collected his troops at Portsmouth, hoping to augmenthis army by a general release of prisoners, Scottish, Welsh, andmalefactors alike; but while he was detained seven weeks by contrarywinds, all these men, after taking his pay, made their escape, andeither returned to their countries, or marauded in the woods. A greatinsurrection broke out in Wales, and he was forced to hasten thither, and from thence was called away to quell the rising of the Scottishbarons against Balliol. 

Meanwhile, it fared ill with his foreign allies. The Duke of Brabant, father-in-law to his daughter Margaret, was killed in a tournament atthe court of her sister Eleanor; and when Eleanor's husband, Henri ofBar, took up arms in the English cause, and marched into Champagne, hewas defeated, and made prisoner by the Queen of France. The poor oldCount of Flanders and his Countess were invited to Paris by Philippe, who insisted that they should bring his godchild and namesake, thebetrothed of young Edward, to visit him. When they arrived, they wereall thrown into the prison of the Louvre, on the plea that Guy had noright to bestow his daughter in marriage without permission from hissuzerain. 

Edward's head was so full of Scotland, that he was shamefullyindifferent to the sufferings of his friends in his behalf. Poor Eleanorof Bar, after striving hard to gain her husband's freedom, died ofgrief, after a few months; and Guy of Flanders contrived to obtain hisown release by promising to renounce the English alliance; but Philippewould not set free the poor young Philippa, whom he kept in his hands asa hostage. 

One cause of the King's neglect was his great distress for money. Hehad learnt to have recourse to his father's disgraceful plea of a shamCrusade, and thus, for six years, gained a tenth of the Church revenues;but in 1294, requiring a further supply, he made a demand of half theyear's income of the clergy. The new Archbishop, Robert Winchelsea, wasgone to Rome to receive his pall; the Dean of St. Paul's, who was sentto remonstrate with the King, died suddenly in his presence; but Edwardwas not touched, and sent a knight to address the assembled clergy, telling them that any reverend father who dared to oppose the royal willwould be considered to have broken the King's peace. In terror theyyielded for that time; but they sent a petition to the Pope, who, inreturn, granted a bull forbidding any subsidies to be paid by churchlands to the King without his permission. 

Little did Edward reck of this decree. He knew that Boniface VIII. Hadhis hands full of his quarrels with the Romans and with Philippe le Bel, and his own ambition was fast searing the conscience once so generousand tender. Again he convened the clergy to grant his exactions, butArchbishop Winchelsea replied that they had two lords, spiritual andtemporal; they owed the superior obedience to the spiritual lord, andwould therefore grant nothing till the Pope should have ratified thedemand; for which purpose they would send messengers to Rome. 

The lay barons backed Edward in making a declaration of outlawry againstthe clergy, and seizing all the ecclesiastical property, both lands andtreasures, except what was within churches or burying-grounds, declaringthat, if not redeemed by submission before Easter, all should beforfeited forever. The Archbishop of York came to terms; but theArchbishop of Canterbury held out, and was deprived of everything, retiring to a country village, where he acted as parish priest, andlived upon the alms of the parishioners. He held a synod, whereexcommunication was denounced on those who seized church property;but the censures of the Church had lost their terrors, and the clergygradually made their peace with the King, Winchelsea himself among thelast. 

The laity had looked on quietly at the oppression of the clergy, andindeed had borne their share of exactions; but these came at last toa point beyond endurance, and Edward's need, and their obstinateresistance, led to another step in the formation of our constitution. 

In 1297 he made a new alliance with Guy of Flanders, and was fittingout three armies, against Scotland, Guienne, and Flanders. To raise themeans, he exacted five marks as a duty on each sack of wool exported toFlanders, and made ruinous requisitions for wheat on the landowners. Merchants and burghers, barons and clergy, took counsel together, andfinding each other all of one mind, resolved to make a stand againstthis tax on wool, which was called the "Evil Toll, " and to establishwhat Magna Carta had already declared, that the nation would not betaxed against its own consent. 

The King's brother, Edmund of Lancaster, had lately died whilecommanding in Guienne, and Edward, meeting his vassals at Salisbury, gave the command of the army, thus left without a head, to HumphreyBohun, Earl of Hereford, and Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk--the oneConstable, the other Marshal of England. To his great wrath, theyanswered that their offices only bound them to attend the King's personin war, and that they would not go. Edward swore a fierce oath that theyshould either go, or hang. Bigod coolly repeated the same oath, that hewould neither go nor hang, and back to their own estates they went, andafter them thirty bannerets, and 1, 500 knights, who, by main force, hindered the King's officers from making any further levies on theirbarns and storehouses. 

Nothing was left Edward, but to speak them fair. He summoned his vassalsto meet him in London, reconciled himself to Archbishop Winchelsea, andon the 14th of July, 1297, when all were assembled at Westminster, hestood forth on a platform, attended by his son, the Primate, and theEarl of Warwick, and harangued the people. He told them that he grievedat the burthens which he was forced to impose on them, but it was fortheir defence; for that the Scots, Welsh, and French thirsted for theirblood, and it was better to lose a part, than the whole. "I am going torisk my life for your sake, " he said. "If I return, receive me; and Iwill make you amends. If I fall, here is my son: he will reward you, iffaithful. "

His voice was broken by tears; and his people, remembering what he oncehad been rather than what he was now, broke into loud shouts of loyalaffection. He appointed his son as regent, and set out for Flanders, butnot in time to prevent poor Guy from again falling into captivity, andpursued by requisitions, to which he promised to attend on his return. All the nobles who held with him accompanied him, and Bohun and Bigodwere left to act in their own way. 

They rode to London with a large train, lodged complaints of the illegalexaction before the Exchequer, and then, going to the Guildhall, workedup the citizens to be ready to assert their rights, and compel theKing to revoke the evil toll, and to observe the charter. They hadscrupulously kept within the law, and, though accompanied by so manyarmed followers, neither murder nor pillage was permitted; and thus theyobtained the sympathies of the whole country. 

Young Edward of Caernarvon was but thirteen, and could only submit; anda Parliament was convoked by his authority, when the present taxes wererepealed, the important clause was added to the Great Charter whichdeclared that no talliage or aid should thenceforth be levied withoutthe consent of the bishops, peers, burgesses, and freemen of the realm, nor should any goods be taken for the King without consent of theowners. 

Further, it was enacted that Magna Charta should be rehearsed twice ayear in all the cathedrals, with a sentence of excommunication on allwho should infringe it. The Archbishop enforced this order strictly, adding another sentence of excommunication to be rehearsed in eachchurch on every Sunday against any who should beat or imprisonclergymen, desiring it to be done with tolling of bell and putting outof candle, because these solemnities had the greater effect on thelaity. This statute is a sad proof how much too cheaply sacred thingswere held, and how habit was leading even the clergy to debase them byover-frequent and frivolous use of the most awful emblems. 

Young Edward and his council signed the acts, and they were sent to theKing for ratification, with a promise that his barons would thereuponjoin him in Flanders, or march to Scotland, at his pleasure. He wasthree days in coming to his resolution, but finally agreed, though itwas suspected that he might set aside his signature as invalid, becausemade in a foreign country. 

Wallace's proceedings in Scotland made Edward anxious to hasten thitherand rid himself of the French war. He therefore accepted the mediationof Boniface VIII. , and consented to sacrifice his unfortunate ally, Guyof Flanders, whom he left in his captivity, as well as his poor youngdaughter. Both died in the prison to which the daughter had beenconsigned at twelve years old. The Prince of Wales, for whose sake herbloom wasted in prison, was contracted to Isabelle, the daughter of herpersecutor, Philippe le Bel; and old King Edward himself received thehand of the Princess Marguerite, now about seventeen, fair and good. Aquitaine was restored, though not Gascony; but Edward only wanted tobe free, that he might hasten to Scotland. And, curiously enough, theoutlaw Wallace, whatever he did for his own land, unconsciously foughtthe battles of his foes, the English nation; for it was his resistancethat weakened Edward's power, and made necessity extort compliance withthe demands of the Barons. 

At York, Bigod and Bohun claimed a formal ratification of the charterof Westminster. He put them off by pleading the urgency of affairs inScotland, and hastened on; but when he returned, in 1299, the staunchBarons again beset him, and he confirmed the charter, but added thephrase, "Saving the rights of the Crown, " which annulled the whole forceof the decree. The two barons instantly went off in high displeasure, with a large number of their friends; and Edward, to try the temper ofthe people, ordered the charter to be rehearsed at St. Paul's Cross; butwhen the rights of the Crown were mentioned, such a storm of hootingsand curses arose, that Edward, taught by the storms of his youth not topush matters to extremity, summoned a new parliament, and granted theright of his subjects to tax themselves. 

This right has often since been proved to be the main strength of theParliament, by preventing the King from acting against their opinion, and by rendering it the interest of all classes of men to attend to theproceedings of the sovereign: it has not only kept kings in check, but it has saved the nobles and commonalty from sinking into thatindifference to public affairs which has been the bane of foreignnations. For, unfortunately, the mass of men are more easily kept onthe alert when wealth is affected, than by any deeper or higherconsideration. 

When we yearly hear of Parliament granting the supplies ere the close ofthe session, they are exercising the right first claimed at Runnymede, striven for by Simon de Montfort, and won by Humphrey Bohun, whosucceeded through the careful self-command and forbearance whichhindered him from ever putting his party in the wrong by violence ortransgression of the laws. He should be honored as a steadfast bulwarkto the freedom of his country, teaching the might of steady resolution, even against the boldest and ablest of all our kings. In spite of roughwords, Edward and Bohun respected each other, and the heir of Hereford, likewise named Humphrey, married Elizabeth, the youngest survivingdaughter left by good Queen Eleanor. Another of Edward's daughters hadbeen married to an English earl. Joan of Acre, the high-spirited, wilfulgirl, who was born in the last Crusade, had been given as a wife to herfather's stout old comrade, Gilbert de Clare, Earl of Gloucester. Hedied when she was only twenty-three, and before the end of a year shesecretly married her squire, Ralph de Monthermer, and her father onlydiscovered the union when he had promised her to the Count of Savoy. Monthermer was imprisoned; but Edward, always a fond father, listened toJoan's pleading, that, as an Earl could ennoble a woman of mean birth, it was hard that she might not raise a gallant youth to rank. Ralphwas released, and bore for the rest of his life the title of Earl ofGloucester, which properly belonged only to Joan's young son, Gilbert. Joan was a pleasure-loving lady, expensive in her habits, and neglectfulof her children; but her father's indulgence for her never failed: helent her money, pardoned her faults, and took on himself the educationof her son Gilbert, who was the companion of his own two young sons byhis second marriage, Thomas of Brotherton and Edmund of Woodstock. 

Their mother, Margaret of France, was a fair and gentle lady, who livedon the best terms with her stepdaughters, many of whom were her elders;and she followed the King on his campaigns, as her predecessor Eleanorhad done. Mary, the princess who had taken the veil, was almost alwayswith her, and contrived to spend a far larger income than any of hersisters, though without the same excuse of royal apparel; but she wasluxurious in diet, fond of pomp and display; never moving withouttwenty-four horses, and so devoted to amusement that she lost large sumsat dice. She must have been an unedifying abbess at Ambresbury, thoughnot devoid of kindness of heart. 

Archbishop Winchelsea held a synod at Mertoun in 1305, where variousdecrees were made respecting the books and furniture which each parishwas bound to provide for the Divine service. The books were to be "alegend" containing the lessons for reading, with others containingthe Psalms and Services. The vestments were "two copes, a chasuble, adalmatic, three surplices, and a frontal for the altar. " And, besidesthese, a chalice of silver, a pyx of ivory or silver, a censer, twocrosses, a font with lock and key, a vessel for holy water, a greatcandlestick, and a lantern and bell, which were carried before the Hostwhen taken to the dying, a board with a picture to receive the kiss ofpeace, and all the images of the Church. The nave, then as now, was thecharge of the parish; the chancel, of the rector. 

This synod was Archbishop Winchelsea's last act before the King tookvengeance on him for his past resistance. His friend and supporter, Boniface VIII. , was dead, harassed to death by the persecutions ofPhilippe IV. ; and Clement V. , the new Pope, was a miserable time-server, raised to the papal chair by the machinations of the French King, andready to serve as the tool of any injustice. 

Edward disliked the Archbishop for having withstood him in the matter ofthe tithe, as well as for having cited him in the name of the Pope toleave Scotland in peace. The King now induced Clement to summon him toanswer for insubordination. Winchelsea was very unwilling to go to Rome;but Edward seized his temporalities, banished eighty monks for givinghim support, and finally exiled him. He died in indigence at Rome. 

He was a prelate of the same busy class as Langton, not fulfilling thehighest standard of his sacred office, but spirited, uncompromising, andan ardent though unsuccessful champion of the rights of the nation. 

If Langton be honored for his part in Magna Charta, Winchelsea merits aplace by his side, for it was the resistance of his party to the "EvilToll" that placed taxation in the power of the English nation, and inthe wondrous ways of Providence caused the Scottish and French wars towork for the good of our constitution. 

 CAMEO XXXVI. 

 ROBERT THE BRUCE (1305-1308. )

 _King of England_. 1272. Edward I. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 

 _King of France_. 1285 Philippe IV. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1298. Albert I. 

 _Pope_. 1305. Clement V. 

The state of Scotland had, ever since the death of the good KingAlexander, been such that even honest men could scarcely retain theirintegrity, nor see with whom to hold. The realm had been seized by aforeign power, with a perplexing show of justice, the rightful King hadbeen first set up and then put down by external force, and the onlyauthority predominant in the land was unacknowledged by the heart ofany, though terror had obtained submission from the lips. 

The strict justice which was loved and honored in orderly England, wasloathed in barbarous Scotland. It would have been hated from a nativesovereign; how much more so from a conqueror, and, above all, from ahostile race, exasperated by resistance! Whether Edward I. Were anintentional tyrant or not, his deputies in Scotland were harsh rulers, and the troops scattered throughout the castles in the kingdom used suchcruel license and exaction as could not but make the yoke intolerable, and the enmity irreconcilable, especially in a race who never forgot norforgave. 

The higher nobility were in a most difficult situation, since to them itfell to judge between the contending parties, and to act for themselves. Few preserved either consistency or good faith; they wavered betweenfear of Edward and love of independence; and among the lowland baronagethere seems to have been only William Douglas, of Douglasdale, who nevercommitted himself by taking oaths of fealty to the English king. Somefamilies, who were vassals at once of the English and Scottish crowns, were in still greater straits; and among these there was the line ofBruce. Robert de Brus had come from Normandy with William the Conqueror, and obtained from him large grants in Yorkshire, as well as the lordshipof Annandale from one of the Scottish kings; and thus a Bruce stoodbetween both parties, and strove to mediate at the battle of theStandard. His grandson married Isabel of Huntingdon, the daughter of thecrusader, David of Scotland, and thus acquired still larger estatesand influence in both countries. His son Robert made another Englishmarriage with Isabel de Clare, daughter of the Earl of Gloucester. The eldest son, Robert Bruce, had gone as a crusader to Palestine, incompany with his friend Adam de Kilcontack, who was Earl of Carrick inright of his wife Martha. Kilcontack died at the siege of Acre, andBruce, returning, married the young countess, and had a large family. 

There were three Robert Bruces living at the time of the judgment atNorham--the father, Lord of Annandale; the son, Earl of Carrick; andthe grandson, still a child. As he grew up, he was sent to serve in theEnglish army, and for some time did so without apparent misgivings; andthe connection was drawn closer by his marriage with Joan de Valence, one of the cousins of Edward I. In order to secure a part of theproperty at all events, the father gave up his Scottish fiefs to hisson, and returned to England, there to live in unbroken allegiance toEdward. 

When Balliol was driven to declare against Edward, he confiscated theestates of all who adhered to the English, and gave Annandale to JohnComyn of Badenoch, the son of his sister Marjory. The Red Comyn, ashe was called, seized Bruce's Castle of Lochmaben, and sowed seeds ofdeadly hatred; but on the downfall of Balliol he shared the captivity ofthe unfortunate "toom tabard, " and did not return to Scotland for someyears. When Wallace's revolt broke out, young Bruce, who was onlytwenty-three, at first followed his instinct of obedience to Edward, andtook an oath to support him against all his enemies, and in pursuanceof it ravaged the lands of the brave Douglas, and carried his wife andchildren into captivity. Some sense either of ambition or patriotism, however, stirred within him, and assembling his men of Annandale, hetold them that he had taken a foolish oath, but that he deeply repentedof it, and would be absolved from it, inviting them to join him inmaintaining the cause of their country. They took alarm, and alldisappeared in the course of the night, and he joined the patriotsalone, but not with all his heart, for he soon made his peace withEdward, and gave his only child, Marjory, as a hostage. Thenceforward hevacillated, sometimes inclining to the King, sometimes to the Scottishparty, and apparently endeavoring to discover how far he could be secureof the Scots giving him their crown, provided he took their part. Heshowed a lamentable contempt for his word; for, on his father's death, he again did homage, and swore fealty to Edward, both for his lands inEngland and Scotland, and at the same time he was making secret treatieswith Lamberton, Bishop of St. Andrew's, and with Comyn. Balliol havingresigned the crown, and being in prison with all his family, wasconsidered to be set aside, and Bruce proposed to Comyn, that whicheverof them should claim the kingdom, should purchase the support of theother by resigning to him his own inheritance. Comyn appeared to agree, and, to prevent suspicion, Bruce attended the court in London; but whilehe was there, Comyn wrote to betray his proposal to Edward, who tookmeasures for seizing the conspirator; but these becoming known to hiscousin, young Gilbert de Clare, the King's grandson, he contrived togive Bruce warning by sending him a pair of spurs and some pieces ofgold. 

Bruce understood the hint, and galloped off with his horse's shoesturned backward, so as to baffle pursuit. He came safely, on the fifthday, to his own border castle of Lochmaben, where he found his brotherEdward. Keeping watch, they seized a messenger on his way to the Englishcourt, bearing letters from Comyn, which explained to Bruce what theperil had been, and who the traitor. Still he was forced to dissemble, and went as usual to the court of the English justiciary at Dumfries, which he was bound to attend. Comyn was likewise present, and there weredeadly glances between the two. Bruce called Comyn to hold a privateinterview with him in the church of the Minorite friars, and, whiletheir words waxed fierce, Bruce reproached Comyn with treachery. Theanswer was, "You lie!" and Bruce, enraged, struck with his dagger at hisenemy; then, horror-struck at seeing him fall, rushed out of the church, and called, "To horse!" Two of his attendants, Lindsay and Kirkpatrick, struck by his pale looks and wild eyes, asked what had befallen him. 

"I doubt, " he said, "that I have slain the Red Comyn!"

"You doubt!" cried Kirkpatrick; "I'll mak sicker"--or sure: and, sosaying, hurried back into the church, and slew not only the wounded man, but his uncle, Sir Robert Comyn, who tried to defend him. The "bloodydirk" and the words "mak sicker" were adopted as crest and motto by theKirkpatrick family. Strange instance of barbarism, that the dastardly, sacrilegious murder of a helpless man on the steps of the altar shouldbe regarded as an achievement worthy of pride!

Still, the fruits of that deed were the deliverance of Scotland. The manwho had hitherto wavered, cast about by circumstances, and swayed byfamily interest, assumed a new character, and became the patient, undaunted champion of his country. 

In utter desperation, Bruce's first measure was to defend himselfagainst the English justiciaries, and, rallying his friends, he tookpossession of the castle of Dumfries, where they were holding theircourt in a hall. They barricaded themselves within, but the fierce Scotsset fire to the doors, and they surrendered, whereupon Bruce permittedthem to depart in safety. 

Nothing was left for Bruce, blood-stained and branded with treachery andimpiety, but to set up his standard and fight to the last; since he hadoffended too deeply ever to find mercy, and the lot of Davydd or ofWallace were samples of what he had to expect. He was handsome, welleducated, of great personal strength and prowess, and frank, winningaddress, and the Scots had suffered so much under their oppressors, thatthey were ready to rally round the first leader who offered himself. 

Going to his castle of Lochmaben, he mustered his adherents. Theyamounted only to three bishops, two earls, and fourteen barons, withtheir followers, and his own four brothers, Edward, Nigel, Thomas, and Alexander. With his little force he get out for Scone, where theScottish kings were crowned, and on his way met a young knight, ridingalone, but well mounted and well armed. As he raised his visor to dohis homage to the King Robert of Scotland, and showed his dark hair andcomplexion, he was recognized as James, the eldest son of that William, Baron Douglas, of Douglasdale, who alone had withheld his allegiancefrom Edward, and whose lands, after Bruce himself had ravaged them, hadbeen given to the English Lord Clifford. The youth had been educated inFrance, and brought the graces of a gentler school of chivalry when hecast in his lot with his ill-used country men. Thus began the lifelongfriendship of Bruce and "good Sir James Douglas, " who was, "wise, wight, and worthy, "

 "Was never over-glad in winning, nor over-sad in tyneing. "

From Scone, the crown, royal stone, and robes had been carried off toEngland; and the Earl of Fife, who, since the days of Macduff, had hadthe right of placing the King upon his throne, was in the hands of theEnglish: but the Bishop of Glasgow provided rich raiment; a littlecirclet of gold was borrowed of an English goldsmith; and Isabel, Countess of Buchan, the sister of the Earl of Fife, rode to Scone, bringing her husband's war-horses, and herself enthroned King Robert. The coronation took place on the Feast of the Annunciation, 1306, andthus began a dynasty whose fate was remarkably similar to the sacrilegeand murder in which their rise was founded. Never was royal line of whomit could so truly be said, that the sword never departed from them, andthere was not an old man in their house for ever. High endowments andhonest purposes could not redeem them, and Scotland never rested nor waspurified from deadly hate and the shedding of innocent blood till thelast of them was dying, a childless exile, and her sceptre was in thehands of that power against which Bruce arose. 

The news of Brace's coronation filled Edward I. With rage. Fourteenyears' work, at the cost of honor, mercy, and the love of his people, all was undone, and the spirit of independence still uncrushed. 

Edward regarded Bruce as so sacrilegious a traitor, that a war with himwas almost sacred; he swore to revenge Red Comyn's death, and preparedfor the war in the most solemn manner. His son Edward was in his 22dyear, and had not yet been knighted, and the King convoked all the youngnobles to share in the solemnity. 

On Whitsun-eve three hundred tents were erected in the Temple gardens, and in each was a young esquire of noble blood, clad in white linen andscarlet cloth, from the King's own wardrobe. Around the circular churchof the Temple they watched their armor, and in the early morning thePrince received knighthood in private from the hands of his father, whohad become too unwell to encounter the whole fatigue of the day. ThePrince conferred the order on his companions, and a magnificent banquettook place in Westminster Hall, where the old King himself presided. Inthe midst a golden net was brought in containing two swans, the emblemsof constancy and truth; and laying his hand on these, the King vowedthat he would never sleep two nights in the same place till he shouldhave chastised the Scots, and that he then would embark for Palestine, and die in the holy war. All the young knights made the same vow; andEdward made them swear that, if he should die in the course of thewar, they would keep his body above ground till the conquest should becompleted. 

In the meantime, Clement V. Had visited Bruce's crime withexcommunication; and though the primate, Lamberton, would not receivethe letters bearing the sentence, it was less easy to be inattentiveto the enormous force that Edward I. Had despatched under his viceroy, Aymar de Valence, Earl of Pembroke, while he followed with mind onlybent on revenge. 

Bruce ravaged Galloway, and marching on Perth, where De Valence was ingarrison, challenged him to come out to battle. Aymar answered that itwas too late in the day, and he must wait till morning; and the Scotssettled themselves in the wood of Methven, where they were cooking theirsuppers, when Valence ungenerously took them by surprise, falling onthem with a far superior force. Robert was on the alert, and killedAymar's horse; but three times he was himself unhorsed: and oncePhilippe Mowbray was crying out that he had the new-made King, whenChristopher Seton came to the rescue, and killed the Englishman. Robert, with about five hundred men, retreated safely into the rugged countryof Athol; but he lost many of his best friends, who were slain or madeprisoners, the latter being for the most part hung as rebels, excepthis sister's son, Thomas Randolph, who made his peace by renouncing hisuncle. 

King Edward had advanced as far as Carlisle. But he was now in his 67thyear, and though his blue eye was not dim, nor his tall form bent, agewas beginning to tell on him, and he was detained by sickness. Hisarmies advanced, and while their cruelties shocked even his stern heart, he set them a fatal example by the unsparing manner in which he orderedthe execution of all whom he considered as accomplices in rebellion. 

The King and his small band of followers lived a wild, outlaw life, inthe hills, hunting and fishing; and his English wife, Joan de Valence, with his two sisters, Mary and Christian, and the Countess of Buchan, came, under the escort of young Nigel Bruce, to join them. A few weeksensued in the wilds of Bredalbane which had all the grace of "As You LikeIt. " The Queen and ladies were lodged in bowers of the branches of trees, slept on the skins of deer and roe, and the King and his young knightshunted, fished, or gathered the cranberry or the whortleberry for theirfood; while the French courtliness of James Douglas, and the graciousbeauty of young Nigel, threw a romance over the whole of the sufferingsso faithfully and affectionately endured. 

But advancing autumn forced them to think of providing shelter, andas they advanced toward the Tay, they came into the country of JohnMacdougal, Lord of Lorn, a son-in-law of the Red Comyn, and therefore atdeadly feud with the Bruces. He collected his Highland vassals, and setupon the little band in a narrow pass between a lake and a precipice, where they could not use their horses: and the Highlanders did dreadfulexecution with their Lochaber axes; James Douglas was wounded, and somany of the horses destroyed, that Bruce ordered a retreat, and sethimself to cover it, almost alone. Lorn himself was reminded of theheroes of Highland romance, as he saw the knightly figure riding calmlyalong the shore of the lake, guarding his flying army by the might ofhis presence, and the Archdeacon of Aberdeen found a simile for him inthe romances of Alexander; but three men named M'Androsser, a fatherand two sons, all of great strength, sprang forward, vowing to slay thechampion, or make him prisoner. One seized his rein, and at the samemoment Bruce's sword sheared off the detaining hand, but not before theother brother had grasped his leg to hurl him from the saddle. With atouch of the spur the horse leaped forward, and as the man fell, hishead was cleft by the King's sword. The grapple with the father was moresevere; he grasped the King's mantle, and when Bruce dashed out hisbrains with his mace, the death-clutch was so fast, that Bruce wasforced to undo the brooch at his throat to free himself from the deadman. The brooch was brought as a trophy to Lorn, whose party could nothelp breaking out into expressions of admiration, which began to angerhim. 

"It seems to give you pleasure, " he said, "to see such havoc made amongus. " "Not so, " answered one; "but be he friend or foe who achieves highdeeds of knighthood, men should do faithful witness to his valor. "

When the King had safely conducted his friends from this danger, hedecided that the ladies should be placed in Kildrummie Castle, in Mar, under the keeping of young Nigel, while his followers dispersed for thewinter, and he would shelter in the Hebrides. It was a sad and longparting, for Kildrummie Castle was soon taken, and Edward sternlycondemned Nigel to be hung, in spite of his youth and innocence; andChristopher Seton, the King's dearest friend, was soon after taken, andshared the same fate. The bishops were carried in chains to England, and Queen Joan also was sent home as a prisoner with her little daughterMarjory. Mary Bruce and Isabel of Buchan were still more harshlytreated, being each shut up in an open cage of latticed wood, exposedto the weather and to the public gaze, the one at Berwick, the otherat Roxburgh Castle. Christian had the better fate of being placed in aconvent. 

In the meantime, Bruce and his few friends had wandered on to the banksof Loch Lomond, where they could only find one leaky boat, unable tohold more than three. Bruce, Douglas, and one other were the firstto cross, and the third then rowed back for another freight, whilethroughout this tedious waiting the King made his friends forget theirtroubles by reciting poems and tales of chivalry. He spent part of thewinter in Kentire, and the rest at the little island of Rachrin, so entirely lost to the knowledge of his enemies, that derisiveproclamation was made for Robert Bruce, lost, stolen, or strayed. ThePope's legate solemnly excommunicated him at Carlisle, with bell, book, and candle; and Annandale was given to the Earl of Hereford, and Carrickto Henry Percy, whilst the executions of his relatives and adherentswere both savage and cruel. 

It was while depressed by such dreadful tidings that Bruce, as he lay onhis bed at Rachrin, drew counsel and encouragement from the perseveringspider, resolved to stake his fortunes on another cast, and, ifunsuccessful, to die as a warrior in the Holy Land. The spring of 1307was coming on, and he had found a friend in Christina, the Lady of theIsles, who furnished him with some vessels, in which Douglas descendedupon the Isle of Arran, and surprised Brodick Castle, which was full ofsupplies. 

Bruce was not long in following them, and, landing secretly, blew hisbugle horn. 

"The King!" cried James Douglas; "I know his manner of blowing!"

"The King!" cried Robert Boyd; "let us make speed to join him!". 

Bruce had brought with him thirty-three galleys, and, meditating alanding in his own county of Carrick, just opposite, he sent a trustyfriend, named Cuthbert, to feel his way; agreeing that, if he foundthe people favorably disposed, he should light a fire as a signal onTurnberry Head. The flame burst out at night, and Bruce and his littleband embarked; but, on landing, he found no welcome on the shore, onlyCuthbert, who knelt in dismay to assure the King that he knew not whathand had kindled the blaze; it was none of his, for the people wereterror-stricken, Turnberry Castle was full of English, and he fearedthat it was the work of treachery. Nor has that strange beacon ever beenaccounted for; it is still believed to have been lit by no mortal hand, and the spot where it shone forth is called the Bogle's Brae. Whethermeteor or watch-fire, it lit the way to Robert Bruce's throne. 

He took counsel whether to return, or not; but his fiery brother, Edward, vowed that, for his part, he would never return to the sea, butwould seek his adventures by land, and Bruce decided on being led by hisstrange destiny. Percy's horses and men were quartered in the villagesround, and falling on them by surprise, he made a rich booty, and drovethe remainder to take refuge in the castle. 

A lady of Bruce's kindred brought him forty men and a supply of moneyand provisions, but, on the other hand, she told him the sad news of theloss of Kildrummie and the death of Nigel; and nearly at the same time, his two youngest brothers, who had been to collect forces in Ireland, were met as they landed by the Macdowalls of Galloway, routed, wounded, and made prisoners. They were taken to King Edward at Carlisle, and atonce hanged without mercy. Bruce vowed a deadly vengeance, but he wasagain put to dreadful straits. He had four hundred men with him atAmmock, in Ayrshire, when Aymar de Valence and John of Lorn pursued himwith eight hundred Highlanders and men-at-arms, setting on his traces abloodhound, once a favorite of his own, and whose instinct they baselyemployed against his master. 

Bruce, hoping to confuse them, divided his followers into three bands, appointing them a place of meeting; but the hound was not to be thusbaffled, and followed up his master's footsteps. Again the royal partybroke up, the King keeping with him only his foster-brother; but againthe hound singled out his traces, and followed him closely. Lorn senton five of his fleetest Highlanders to outstrip the dog, believing themable to cope with the two whose footmarks he saw. Bruce soon saw themdashing alter him, and asked his foster-brother, "What aid wilt themmake?"

"The best I can, " he said; and the King undertook to deal with three, leaving the other two to his foster-brother; but he had to turn asidefrom his own combat to rescue his companion, and four out of the fivefell by his hand; yet he thanked his foster-brother for his aid inthe encounter. The baying of the hound came near enough to be heard, revealing why the enemy had so well distinguished his tread: and Bruce, who had been sitting under a tree, spent with fatigue, sprang up, exclaiming that he had heard that to wade a bow-shot through a streamwould make any dog lose scent, and he would put it to proof by walkingdown the little stream that crossed the wood. This device succeeded, therunning water effaced the scent, the hound was at fault, and Lorn gaveup the attempt. 

Still the hunted pair were in evil case; they had lost their way, andwere spent with fatigue, and they could not extricate themselves fromthe forest. By and by they met three wild, vagabond-looking men comingwith swords and axes, and one with a sheep thrown over his shoulders. The King accosted them, and asked whither they were bound. They saidthey sought Robert Bruce, since, wherever he was, there would befighting. 

"Come with me, " he said; "I will take you to him. "

At this they changed countenance, so that he suspected them, andinsisted that they should walk on before him in front, without the twoparties mingling together. At nightfall they came to an empty shed, where they killed the sheep; but Bruce, still on his guard, chose tohave a separate fire, and to eat and sleep apart beside it, himself andhis foster-brother taking turns to watch. The foster-brother, heavy andexhausted, dropped off to sleep on his watch, and almost at the samemoment the three robbers fell upon them. Bruce, who slept lightly, wason the alert in a moment, and slew the whole three, but not in time tosave his foster-brother, who died under a blow from the marauders. TheKing then went mournfully on his way to the place of rendezvous, and byand by came to a farm, where he was welcomed by a loyal goodwife, who declared that she wished well to all travellers for the sake ofone--King Robert. Here he was joined by one hundred and fifty men, withhis brother Edward, and James Douglas; and the first remedy thought offor all their fatigues was to fall on their pursuers, who were carousingin the villages. Attacking them suddenly, they inflicted far more injurythan had been suffered through this day of pursuit. 

Bruce was gathering men so fast, that he ventured to give battle toAymar de Valence at London Hill, and defeated him chiefly by using thelong spears of the Scottish infantry against the horse of the English. Aymar went to explain the state of affairs to King Edward at Carlisle. Such tidings lashed the old monarch to more vehement action; he preparedto set forth at once against the enemy; but it was not to be. Wars wereover with him forever. The sudden death of his daughter, Joan, stronglyaffected him, and at only one day's march from Carlisle he became soill, that he was forced to rest at Burgh on the Sands, where he speedilydeclined. His last injunctions to his son were, to be kind to his littlebrothers, and to maintain three hundred knights for three years in theHoly Land. The report went, that he further desired that his flesh mightbe boiled off his bones, and these wrapped in a bull's hide to serve asa standard to the army; but Edward's hatred never was so mad as thiswould have been, and there is no reason to believe in so absurd a story. 

There could perhaps be found no more appropriate monument than that inWestminster Abbey, contrasting, as it does, its stern simplicity withthe gorgeous grace of his father's inlaid shrine, and typifying well thewhole story of the fallen though still devout crusader--the dark-grayslab of Purbeck marble, with the inscription:

 Edwardus Primus. Malleus Scotorum, 1308. Pactum Serva. Edward the First. The Hammer of the Scots. Keep covenants. 

 CAMEO XXXVII. 

 THE VICTIM OF BLACKLOW HILL. 

 _King of England_. 1307. Edward II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 

 _King of France_. 1385. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1308. Henry VII. 

 _Pope_. 1305. Clement V. 

"The foolishness of the people" is a title that might be given to manya son of a wise father. The very energy and prudence of the parent, especially when employed on ambitious or worldly objects, seems tocause distaste, and even opposition, in the youth on whom his father'spursuits have been prematurely forced. Seeing the evil, and weary ofthe good, it often requires a strong sense of duty to prevent him fromflying to the contrary extreme, or from becoming wayward, indifferent, and dissipated. 

This has been the history of many an heir-apparent, and of none moredecidedly than of Edward of Carnarvon. The Plantagenet weakness, insteadof the stern strength of the house of Anjou, had descended to him; andthough he had what Fuller calls "a handsome man-case, " his fair andbeautiful face was devoid of the resolute and fiery expression of hisfather, and showed somewhat of the inanity of regular features, withouta spirit to illuminate them. Gentle, fond of music, dancing, and everykind of sport, he had little turn for state affairs; and like hisgrandfather, Henry III. , but with more constancy, he clung to any onewho had been able to gain his affections, and had neither will norjudgment save that of the friend who had won his heart. 

His first friend--and it was a friendship till death--was PiersGaveston, the son of a knight of Guienne. Piers was a few years olderthan the Prince, and so graceful, handsome, ready of tongue, andcomplete in every courtly accomplishment, that Edward I. Highlyapproved of him as his son's companion in early boyhood; and Piersshared in the education of the young Prince of Wales and of his favoritesister, Elizabeth. Edward I. Was a fond father, and granted his son'sfriend various distinguished marks of favor, among others the wardshipof Roger, the son and heir of the deceased Edmund Mortimer, warden ofthe Marches of Wales. Whatever were the intentions of Gaveston, RogerMortimer did little credit to his education. The guardian had a licenseto use his ward's property like his own till his majority, in order thathe might levy the retainers for the King's service, and he obtained ahandsome gratuity from the relatives of the lady to whom he gave theyouth in marriage, and this, probably, was the extent of the obligationsto which Gaveston considered himself as bound. 

Both he and his Prince were strongly sensitive to all that was tastefuland beautiful; they were profuse in their expenditure in dress, inornament, and in all kinds of elegances, and delighted in magnificententertainments. They gave one in the Tower of London to the princesses, on which occasion an immense expenditure was incurred, when the Princeof Wales was only fifteen; and his presents were always on the grandestscale to his sisters, who seem to have loved him as sisters love an onlybrother. 

By and by, however, generosity became profusion, and love of pleasureran into dissipation. Grave men grew uneasy at the idle levity of thePrince, and were seriously offended by the gibes and jests in which thetongue of Gaveston abounded, and at which he was always ready to laugh. In 1305, the Prince made application to Walter Langley, Bishop ofLitchfield, the King's treasurer, to supply him with money, but wasrefused, and spoke improperly in his anger. It is even said that hejoined Gaveston in the wild frolic of breaking into Langley's park, andstealing his deer. At any rate, at Midhurst, on the 13th of June, theBishop seriously reproved him for his idle life and love of low company;and the Prince replied with such angry words, that the King, in extremedispleasure, sent him in a sort of captivity to Windsor Castle, withonly two servants. 

All his sisters rose up to take their brother's part, and assure him oftheir sympathy. The eager, high-spirited Joan, Countess of Gloucester, sent him her seal, that he might procure whatever he pleased at hercost; and Elizabeth, who was married to Humphrey de Bohun, the greatEarl of Hereford, wrote a letter of warm indignation, to which hereplied by begging her not to believe anything, save that his father wasacting quite rightly by him; but a few weeks after, he wrote to begher to intercede that his "two valets, " Gilbert de Clare and Perot deGaveston, "might be restored to him, as they would alleviate much ofhis anguish. " He addressed a letter with the like petition to hisstepmother, Queen Margaret, and continued to evince his submission byrefusing his sister Mary's invitations to visit her at her convent atAmbresbuiy. At the meeting of parliament, Edward met his father again, and received his forgiveness. All went well for some time, and hegracefully played his part in the pageantry of his knighthood and thevow of the Swans. 

Gaveston still continued about his person, and accompanied him to thenorth of England. At the parliament of Carlisle, in 1307, the Princebesought his father to grant his friend the earldom of Cornwall, therichest appanage in the kingdom, just now vacant by the death of hiscousin, Edmund d'Almaine, son of the King of the Romans. Whether thispresumptuous request opened the King's eyes to the inordinate power thatGaveston exercised over his son, or whether he was exasperated againsthim by the complaints of the nobles, his reply was, to decree that, after a tournament fixed for the 9th of April, Gaveston must quit thekingdom forever; and he further required an oath from both the friends, that they would never meet, again, even after his death. Oaths werelightly taken in those days, and neither of the gay youths was likely toresist the will of the stern old monarch; so the pledge was taken, andthe Prince of Wales remained lonely and dispirited, while Piers hoveredon the outskirts of the English dominions, watching for tidings thatcould hardly be long in coming. 

So much did Edward I. Dread his influence, that, on his deathbed, heobliged his son to renew his abjuration of Gaveston's company, and laidhim under his paternal malediction should he attempt to recall him. It does not appear that Gaveston waited for a summons. He hurried topresent himself before his royal friend, who had, in pursuance of hisfather's orders, advanced as far as Cumnock, in Ayrshire. 

Both had bitterly to rue their broken faith, and heavily did thefather's curse weigh upon them; but at first there was nothing buttransport in their meeting. The merry Piers renewed his jests andgayeties; he set himself to devise frolics and pageantries for his youngmaster, and speedily persuaded him to cease from the toils of war indreary Scotland, and turn his face homeward to the more congenialdelights of his coronation, and his marriage with the fairest maidenin Europe. To have made peace with Bruce because the war was an unjustaggression, would have been noble; but it was base neither to fight norto treat, and to leave unsupported the brave men who held castles inhis name in the heart of the enemy's country. But Edward was onlytwenty-two, Gaveston little older, and sport was their thought, insteadof honor or principle. Piers even mocked at the last commands of thegreat Edward, and not only persuaded the new King to let the funeraltake place without waiting for the conquest of Scotland, but to bestowon him even the bequest set apart for the maintenance of the knights inPalestine. At Dumfries, on his first arrival, the coveted earldom ofCornwall was granted to him; and, on his return, he was married to theKing's niece, Margaret de Clare, daughter to Joan of Acre. He held hishead higher than ever, and showed great discourtesy to the nobility. Hehad announced a tournament at Wallingford in honor of his wedding, andhearing that a party of knights were coming to the assistance of thebarons who had accepted his encounter, he sallied out privately withhis followers, and attacked and dispersed the allies, so as to have theadvantage in his own hands in the melée. Such a dishonorable trick wasnever forgotten, though probably the root was chiefly vanity, whichseems to have been the origin of all his crimes, and of his ruin. 

The chancellor and all the late King's tried ministers were displaced, and some, among whom was the good Bishop of Litchfield, were imprisonedfor two years. Gaveston, without any regular appointment, took the greatseal into his own keeping, and set it to charters which he filled upafter his fancy. In the meantime, the King set off for France, tocelebrate his marriage with Isabel, the daughter of Philippe le Bel, the princess for whose sake the Flemish maiden was pining to death incaptivity. The seal of this most wretched of unions was, that Philippetook this opportunity of persuading the gentle, reluctant Edward II, towithdraw his protection from the Templars in his dominions, and givethem up to the horrible cruelty and rapacity of their exterminator. Isabel's dowry was furnished from their spoils. The wedding took placeon St. Paul's Day, 1308, in the presence of four kings and queens, andthe festivities lasted a fortnight; after which the young bride andbridegroom set off on their return to Dover, where Edward's favoritesister, Elizabeth, was already come to greet the little Queen, abeautiful girl of thirteen, proud, high-spirited, and exacting, veryunwilling to be treated as a child. Her two uncles came with her, anda splendid train of nobles; and two days after their landing, Gavestonarrived at Dover, when, at first sight of him, Edward rushed into hisarms, calling him brother, and disregarding every one else. Almost atthe same time the King gave his favorite the whole of the rich jewelryand other gifts which had been bestowed on him by his father-in-law, Philippe le Bel; and this was regarded as a great affront by the youngQueen and her uncles. Gaveston had a childish complaint of his ownto make--men would not call him by his new title; and presently aproclamation came out, rendering it a crime to speak of him as Piers, Piers Gaveston, or as anything but the Earl of Cornwall. 

It was the more resented because he was not respectful with other men'stitles, and amused the King with nicknames for the nobles. Thomas, Earlof Lancaster, the son of Edmund Crouchback, was "the old hog" andthe "stage-player;" pale, dark, Provençal Aymar de Valence, Earl ofPembroke, he called "Joseph the Jew;" the fierce Guy, Earl of Warwick, "the black dog of Ardennes. " The stout Earl swore that he should findthat the dog could show his teeth; and when Gaveston announced atournament for the 18th of February at Feversham, no one chose to attendit, whereupon he jeered at them as cowards. 

The King issued writs summoning his nobles to meet for his coronation onthe 25th of February, but they took the opportunity of insisting thatGaveston should be dismissed from favor. Edward evasively answered thathe would attend to their wishes at the meeting of parliament, and theywere obliged to be content for the present; but they were exceedinglyangry that, at the coronation, Piers appeared more splendidly and richlyattired than the King himself, and bearing on a cushion the crown of St. Edward, while the Earl of Lancaster carried curtana, the sword of mercy, and his brother Henry the rod with the dove. The Bishop of Winchesterperformed the ceremony, Archbishop Winchelsea not having returned fromhis exile; and the King and Queen made magnificent offerings: theKing's being first, a figure of a king in gold, holding a ring; thesecond, of a pilgrim given the ring; intended to commemorate the visionin which St. Edward received the coronation-ring from St. John theEvangelist. 

Gaveston arranged the whole ceremony; but as his own display was hischief thought, he managed to affront every one, and more especially theyoung Queen and her uncles, so that Isabel wrote a letter to her fatherfull of complaints of her new lord and his favorite, and Philippeentered into correspondence with the discontented nobility. In thetournaments in honor of the coronation, Piers came off victorious overthe Earls of Lancaster, Hereford, Pembroke, and Warrenne, and thismortification greatly added to their dislike. At the meeting ofparliament, the Barons were so determined against the favorite, thatfinally Edward was obliged to yield, and to swear to keep him out of thekingdom; though, to soften the sentence, he gave him the manors of HighPeak and Cockermouth, and made him governor of Ireland, bestowing onhim, as a parting token, all the young Queen's gifts to himself--rings, chains, and brooches; another great vexation to Isabel. He was obliged, at the same time, to grant forty other articles, giving greater securityto the people. 

Gaveston made a better governor of Ireland than could have beenexpected, repressed several incursions of the wild Irish, and repairedthe castles on the borders of the English pale; but his haughtydeportment greatly affronted the Irish barons of English blood, and theywere greatly discontented with his rule. 

The King was, in the meantime, doing his utmost to procure the recallof the beloved Earl. He wrote to the Pope to obtain absolution from hisoath, and to the King of France to entreat him to relax his hostility;and he strove to gain his nobles over one by one, granting offices toLancaster, and making concessions to all the rest. Philippe le Bel madeno answer; Clement V. Sent exhortations to him to live in harmony withhis subjects, but at last absolved Gaveston, on condition that he shoulddemean himself properly, and submit his differences with the Barons tothe judgment of the Church. 

Gaveston hurried home on the instant; his master flew to meet him, andreceived him at Chester with raptures of affection. Thence Edward sentexplanations to the sheriffs of each county, saying, that Gavestonhaving been unjustly and violently banished, it was his duty to recallhim, to have his conduct examined into according to the laws. TheBarons, on the other hand, put forth other declarations, persuading thepeople that the King having violated one of the oaths, he evidentlymeant to break the other forty, which regarded their personal liberties. 

Gaveston did nothing to mitigate the general aversion. He had not learntwisdom by his first fall, and though the clergy and commons meeting atStamford granted a twenty-fifth of the year's produce to the King, andconsented to his remaining so long as he should demean himself properly, he soon disgusted them also. He wore the crown-jewels openly, andaffected greater contempt than ever for the Barons, till it becamepopularly said that there were two Kings, the real one a mere subject tothe false. The young Queen wrote piteous complaints to her father of herhusband's neglect; and the Countess of Cornwall had still greater wrongsfrom Gaveston to complain of to her brother, the Earl of Gloucester. Dances, sports, and gayeties were the occupation of the court, heedlessof the storm that was preparing. The Barons, jealous, alarmed, andirritated, looked on in displeasure, and on the All-Saints' Day of 1310, after high mass at St. Paul's, the bold-spirited Archbishop Winchelsea, in his pontifical robes, standing on the step of the altar, made adiscourse to the Earls of Lancaster, Lincoln, Pembroke, Hereford, andeight other persons, after which he bound them by an oath to unite todeliver the kingdom from the exactions of the favorite, and pronouncedsentence of excommunication against any who should reveal any part oftheir confederation before the time. 

The Earl of Lincoln, the last of the Lacys, shortly after fell sick, andmade what he thought a death-bed exhortation to the Earl of Lancaster, who had married his only daughter, not to abandon England to the Kingand the Pope, but, like the former barons, to resist all infractions oftheir privileges. 

This Earl of Lancaster was the son of Edmund Crouchback and of Blancheof Artois, mother of the Queen of France. He was a fine-looking man, devout and gracious, and much beloved by the people, who called him theGentle Count; but Gaveston's nickname for him of the "stage-player"may not have been unmerited, for he seems to have been over-greedy ofpopular applause and influence, and to have had much personal ambition;and it does not seem certain, though Gaveston might be vain, andhis master weak and foolish, that Lancaster and his friends did notexaggerate their faults, and excite the malevolence of a nation nevertolerant either of royal favorites or of an expensive court. Pembrokewas Aymar de Valence, son of one of the foreign brothers who had beenthe bane of Henry III. ; but now, becoming a thorough Englishman, he borethe like malice to the unfortunate Gascon who held the same post as hisown father had done. Hereford, though husband to the King's favoritesister Elizabeth, was true to the stout old Bohun, his father, whohad sworn to Edward I. That he would neither go nor hang. Two poorbutterflies, such as Edward II. And Gaveston, could have done littleinjury to the realm, but the fierce warriors were resolved to crushthem, impatient of the calls upon their purses made needful by theirextravagance. 

A tournament had been announced at Kennington, and preparations weremade; but Gaveston's jousts were not popular. None of the Baronsaccepted the invitation, and in the night the lists and scaffolding weresecretly carried away. This mortification was ominous, but Edward'sfunds were so low that he could not avoid summoning a parliament to meetat Westminster; and at their meeting the nobles again resorted to thedevice of Montfort at the Mad Parliament. They brought their armedfollowers, and forced the King to consent to the appointment of acommittee of ordainers, who made him declare that this measure proceededof his own free will, and was not to prejudice the rights of theCrown; but that their office would expire of itself on the ensuingMichaelmas-Day. So strangely and inconsistently did they try to bringabout their own ends without infringing on the constitution. 

Gaveston had either previously hidden himself, or was driven away bythe ordainers; but the King, anxious to escape from their surveillance, proclaimed an expedition to Scotland, and summoned his vassals to meethim at York. Hardly any noble came except Gaveston, and they made anineffectual inroad into Scotland together, after which Gaveston shuthimself up in Bamborough Castle, while the King went to London toreceive the decision of the ordainers. The foremost was, of course, thebanishment of Gaveston; and he went, but only again to appear, beforetwo months were past, in the company of the King, at York. 

Lancaster and his friends now look up arms and marched northward. Edwardand his court had proceeded to Newcastle, but no army was with them; andon the report of the advance of the enemy the King fled to Tynemouth, and embarked in a little boat with his friend, leaving behind him hiswife, discourteously perhaps, but hardly cruelly, for Isabel was theniece of Lancaster, and probably would have been in more danger froma sea-voyage in a rude vessel, than from the rebel lords. She was, however, greatly offended, and was far more inclined to her uncle, whowrote her an affectionate letter, than to her regardless husband. 

Edward and Piers landed at Scarborough, where the King was obliged toleave his friend for security, while he went on to raise his standardat York. Few obeyed the summons, and Pembroke hastened to besiegeScarborough. It was impossible to hold out, and Gaveston surrendered, Pembroke and Henry Percy binding themselves for his safety to the King, under forfeiture of life and limb. Gaveston was to be confined in hisown castle of Wallingford, and the Earl proceeded to escort him thither. But at Dedington Pembroke left the party to visit his wife, who was inthe neighborhood, and, on rising in the morning, Gaveston beheld theguard changed. They bore the badge of Warwick, and the grim black dogof Ardennes rode exulting at their head. The unhappy man was set upona mule, and carried to Warwick Castle, where Lancaster, Hereford, andSurrey, were met to decide his fate in the noble pile newly raised byEarl Guy, to whom the loftiest tower owes its name. 

They set Piers before them, and gave him a mock trial. At first therewas a reluctance to shed blood, but a voice exclaimed, "Let the foxgo, and you will have to hunt him again. " And it was resolved that, indefiance of law and of their own honor, Piers Gaveston should die. 

He flung himself on his knees before Lancaster, and implored mercy; butin vain he called him "Gentle Count. " "Old hog" rankled in the mind ofthe Earl, who, with his two confederates, rode-forth to Blacklow Hill, a knoll between Warwick and Coventry, and there, beneath the clump ofragged pine-trees, they sternly and ruthlessly looked on while, on June19th, 1312, the head of the unfortunate young Gaveston was struck off, avictim to his own vanity and the inordinate affection of his master. 

Pembroke, regretting either his carelessness or his treachery, when hesaw the dreadful consequences, went to the King, and satisfied him ofhis innocence. Poor Edward was at first wild with grief and rage, buthis efforts to punish the murderers were fruitless; and gradually hiswrath cooled enough to listen to the mediation of the Pope and King ofFrance, and he consented to grant the Barons a pardon. They wanted toforce him, for their own justification, to declare Gaveston a traitor;but weak as Edward was, his affection could not be overcome. He couldforgive the murderers, but he could not denounce the memory of themurdered friend of his youth. And the Barons were forced to contentthemselves with receiving a free pardon after they had come to professtheir penitence on their knees before the King enthroned in WestminsterHall. 

Gaveston had been buried by some friars at Oxford; but, twelve yearsafter, Edward showed how enduring his love had been, by transporting thecorpse to the church he had newly built at Langley, and placing with hisown hands two palls of gold on the tomb. 

 CAMEO XXXVIII. 

 BANNOCKBURN. (1307-1313. )

 _King of England_. 1307. Edward II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 

 _King of France_. 1285. Philippe IV. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1308. Henry VII. 

 _Pope_. 1305. Clement VI. 

While the son of the Hammer of the Scots wasted his manhood in silkenease, the brave though savage patriots of the North were foot by footwinning back their native soil. 

Lord Clifford had posted an English garrison in Douglas Castle, andreigned over Douglasdale, which had been granted to him by Edward I. Onthe forfeiture of Baron William. It sorely grieved the spirit of JamesDouglas to see his inheritance held by the stranger, and, with Bruce'spermission, he sought his own valley in disguise, revealing himself onlyto an old servant, named Thomas Dickson, who burst into tears at thefirst sight of his young lord, and gave him shelter in his cottage. 

Here Douglas lay concealed, while Dickson conducted to him, one by one, his trusty vassals, and measures were concerted with total disregard tothe sacred holiday. Once, all Passion-tide would have been peaceful forthe sake of the Truce of God; but the wrongs of the Scots had blottedout all the gentler influences that soften war, and in their eyesjustified treachery and sacrilege. On the Palm-Sunday of 1307, whenthe English troops would come forth in procession to the Church ofSt. Bride, carrying willow boughs in memory of the palm-branches atJerusalem, the adherents of Douglas intended to attack and beset them onall sides, and Douglas, by way of encouragement, made a grant to Dicksonof the lands of Hisleside. Dickson and the other secret friends of theScots mingled in the procession, with their arms concealed, and enteredthe church with the English, and no sooner had they disappeared withinthe low doorway, than the loud slogan of "Douglas! Douglas!" was heardwithout. Dickson drew his sword and ran upon the English, but the signalhad been given too soon, and he was overthrown and slain before SirJames came up. The English bravely defended the chancel, but Douglasand his armed followers prevailed, killed twenty-six, took twelveprisoners, and set out for the castle, which, in full security, hadbeen left with all the gates open, with no one within but the porter, and the cook dressing the dinner, which was eaten by very differentguests from those whom they expected. Douglas had not men enough to holdthe castle, and had a great dislike to standing a siege. "I had ratherhear the lark sing, than the mouse squeak, " was his saying, and hetherefore resolved to return to his king on the mountains, and carry offall the treasure and arms that could be transported from Douglasdale. Asto the remainder, he showed that French breeding had not rooted thebarbarian even out of the "gentil Lord James. " He broke up every barrelof wheat, flour, or meal, staved every cask of wine or ale among them onthe floor of the hall, flung the corpses of dead men and horses uponthem, slew his prisoners on the top of the horrible compound, andfinally set fire to the castle, calling it, in derision, the DouglasLarder. 

Clifford, enraged at this horrible foray, came in person to Douglasdale, cleansed the fire-scathed walls, built a new tower, and entrusted thedefence to a captain named Thirlwall. Him Sir James deluded by sendingfourteen men to drive a herd of cattle past the castle, when Thirlwall, intending to plunder the drovers, came forth, fell into the ambush laidfor him by Douglas, and was slain with all his men. 

It went forth among the English, that Black Sir James had made oaththat, if he abode not within his father's castle, neither should anyEnglishman dwell there. The knights of Edward's court named it the"Perilous Castle of Douglas, " and Lord Clifford found that even bravemen made excuses, and were unwilling to risk the dishonor of the loss, or to run the chance of serving to furnish a second Douglas larder. Atthis juncture a young lady, enthusiastic in romance, bethought her ofmaking her hand the reward of any knight who would hold out the PerilousCastle for a year and a day. The spirited Sir John de Walton took thedamsel at her word, and shut himself up in Douglas Castle; but hisprudence did not equal his courage, and he fell a prey to the samestratagem which had deluded Thirlwall, except that the bait, in thiscase, was sacks of corn instead of wandering cattle. The young knightwas slain in the encounter, when his lady's letters were found inhis bosom, and brought to Sir James, who was so much touched by thischivalrous incident that he spared the remainder of the garrison, andgave them provisions and money to return in safety to Clifford[Footnote: The wild adventures at the Perilous Castle derive a mostaffecting interest from the chord they never failed to touch in theheart of "The Last Minstrel. " Seen by him when a schoolboy, the Dale ofDouglas, the ruin of the castle, and the tombs at St. Bride's, aided toform his spirit of romance; the Douglas ballad lore rang in his earsthrough life, stirring his heart and swelling his eyes with tears; andthe home of the Douglas was the last spot he sought to explore, in theland which he loved with more than a patriot's love. Castle Dangerouswas the last tale he told; and though the hand was feeble, the brainover-tasked, and the strain faltering, yet still the same heart breathedin every word, and it was a fit farewell from Scott to the hauntedcastles, glens, and hills of his home. ]

Douglasdale, Ettrick Forest, and Jeddart, were thus made too terrible tobe held by the English; but Bruce himself was for a long time disabledby a severe illness which gave slight hope of recovery. At Inverary, theEarl of Buchan made an attack on him when he was still so weak as to beobliged to be supported on horseback by a man on either side of him;but he gained a complete victory, and followed it up by such a dreadfuldevastation, that "the harrying of Buchan" was a proverb for half acentury. The oaks sunk deep in the mosses bear marks of fire on theirtrunks, as if in memory of this destruction. 

Another victory, a "right fair point of chivalry, " was gained inGalloway by Edward Bruce, who in one year, 1308, took thirteenfortresses in that district. Robert might well say that "he was moreafraid of the bones of Edward I. Than of the living Edward ofCaernarvon, and that it was easier to win a kingdom from the son thanhalf a foot of land from the father. " Edward II. Was always intending tocome to Scotland in person, and wasting time in preparations, spendingsubsidies as fast as he collected them, and changing his governors. Inless than a year six different rulers were appointed, and, of course noconsistent course could be pursued by nobles following each other insuch quick succession. 

At a lonely house near Lyme Water, Sir James Douglas captured the King'ssister's son, Thomas Randolph, and led him to Bruce. 

 "Nephew" said Bruce, "you have forgotten your allegiance. "

"Have Done nothing of which I have been ashamed, " returned Randolph. "You blame me, but you deserve blame. If you choose to defy the Kingof England, why not debate the matter like a true knight in a pitchedfield?"

"That may be hereafter, " replied Bruce, calmly; "but since thou art sorude of speech, it is fitting thy proud words should be punished, tillthou learn my right and thy duty. "

Whatever was, strictly speaking, Bruce's _right_, his nephew learntin captivity to respect it, gave in his adhesion to King Robert, wascreated Earl of Moray, and became one of the firmest friends ofhis throne. The world was beginning to afford the successful mancountenance, and the cunning Philippe le Bel wrote letters which wereto pass through England under the address of the Earl of Carrick, but, within, bore the direction to King Robert of Scotland. 

A vain march of Edward II into Scotland was revenged by a horribleinroad of the Scots into Northumberland, up to the very gates of Durham. On his return, Robert tried to surprise Berwick, but was prevented bythe barking of a dog, which awakened the garrison. He next besiegedPerth. After having discovered the shallowest part of the moat, he madea feint of raising the siege, and, after an absence of eight days, madea sudden night-attack, wading through the moat with the water up to hisneck, and a scaling-ladder in one hand, while with the other he felt hisway with his spear. 

"What, " cried a French knight, "shall we say of our lords, who live athome in ease and jollity, when so brave a knight is here risking hislife to win a miserable hamlet?"

So saying, the Frenchman rushed after the King and his men, and thetown was taken before the garrison were well awake. 

About the same time Douglas came upon Roxburgh, when the garrison wereenjoying the careless mirth of Shrovetide. Hiding their armor with darkcloaks, Sir James and his men crept on all-fours through the brushwoodtill they came to the very foot of the battlements, and could hear awoman singing to her child that the Black Douglas should not touch it, and the sentries saying to each other that yonder oxen were out late. Planting their ladders, the Scots gained the summit of the tower, killed the sentinels, and burst upon the revelry with shouts of"Douglas! Douglas!" The governor, a gallant Burgundian knight, namedFiennes, retreated into the keep, and held out till he was badlywounded, and forced to surrender, when he was spared, and retreatedto die in England, while the castle was levelled to the ground byEdward Bruce. 

The destruction of these strongholds was matter of great joy to thesurrounding peasantry, who had been cruelly despoiled by the Englishsoldiers there stationed; and a farmer, named Binning, actually made anattempt upon the great fortress of Linlithgow, which was wellgarrisoned by the English. He had been required to furnish the troopswith hay, and this gave him the opportunity of placing eight strongpeasants well armed, lying hidden, in the wagon, by which he walkedhimself, while it was driven by a stout countryman with an axe at hisbelt, and another party were concealed close without the walls. 

The drawbridge was lowered, and the portcullis raised to admit theforage, when, at the moment that the wagon stood midway beneath thearch, at a signal from the farmer, the driver with his axe cut asunderthe yoke, the horses started forward, and Binning, with a loud cry, "Call all! call all!" drew the sword hidden under his carter's frock, and killed the porter. The eight men leaped out from among the hay, andwere joined by their friends from the ambush without; the cart underthe doorway prevented the gates from being closed, and the pile ofhay caught the portcullis as it fell. The Englishmen, surprised anddiscomfited, had no time to make head against the rustics, and wereslaughtered or made prisoners; the castle was given up to the King, and Binning received the grant of an estate, and became a gentleman ofcoat-armor, with a wagon argent on his shield, and the harnessed head ofa horse for a crest. 

Jedburgh, Stirling, and Edinburgh, were the last castles still in thehands of the invaders. The Castle of Edinburgh, aloft on the rockfrowning above the town, had been held by the English full twenty years, and, when Randolph was sent to besiege it, was governed by a Gasconknight named Piers Luband, a kinsman of Gaveston. In hatred andsuspicion of all connected with the minion, the English soldiers roseagainst the foreigner, threw him into a dungeon, and, electing a freshcaptain, made oath to hold out to the last. The rock was believed to beinaccessible, and a blockade appeared to be the only means of reducingthe garrison. This had already lasted six weeks, when a man named Frank, coming secretly to Randolph, told him that his father had formerly beengovernor, and that he, when a youth, had been in the habit of scramblingdown the south face of the rock, at night, to visit a young damsel wholived in the Grass-market, and returning in the same manner; and heundertook to guide a party by this perilous ascent into the very heartof the castle. 

Randolph caught at the proposal, desperate as it was, and, selectingthirty men, chose an excessively dark night for the adventure. Frankwent the first, climbing up the face of the precipice with hands andfeet; then followed Sir Andrew Grey; thirdly, Randolph himself; andthen the rest of the party. The ascent was exceedingly difficult anddangerous, especially in utter darkness and to men in full armor, fearing to make the slightest noise. Coming to a projecting crag, closeunder the wall, they rested to collect their breath, and listen. Itwas the moment when the guards were going their rounds, and, to theirhorror, they heard a soldier exclaim, as he threw a pebble down on them, "Away! I see you well!" A few more stones, and every man of them mighthave been hurled from the cliff by the soldiers merely rolling downstones on them. They dared not more, and a few moments' silence provedthat the alarm had been merely a trick to startle the garrison--a jestsoon to turn to earnest. 

When the guard had passed on, the brave Scots crept to the foot of thewall, where it was only twelve feet high, and fixed the iron hook oftheir rope-ladder to the top of it. Ere all had mounted, the clankof their weapons had been heard, shouts of "Treason!" arose, and thesentinels made a brave resistance; but it was too late, and, after somehard fighting, the survivors of the garrison were forced to surrender. Sir Piers Luband, on being released from his dungeon, offered hisservices to King Robert, whereupon the English laid all the blame ofthe loss of the castle upon him, declaring that he had betrayed them. Randolph's seizure of Edinburgh was considered as the most daring of allthe many gallant exploits of the Scots. 

Bruce forayed Cumberland, and threatened Berwick, so that the poorCountess of Buchan was removed from thence to a more secure place ofcaptivity. He also pursued his enemies, the Macdougals of Lorn, up thepasses of Cruachan Ben, and even hunted them into the Isle of Man, wherehe took Rushyn Castle, and conquered the whole island. In his absence, Edward Bruce took Dundee, and besieged Stirling, until the governor, Philip Mowbray, was reduced to such straits by famine, that he beggedfor a truce, in which to go and inform the King of England of the stateof affairs, promising to surrender on the Midsummer Day of the followingyear, if he were not relieved before that time. Edward Bruce grantedthese terms, and allowed Mowbray to depart. Robert was displeased atsuch a treaty, giving a full year to the enemy to collect their forces:but his brother boldly answered, "Let Edward bring every man he has; wewill fight them--ay, and more too!" King Robert saw more danger than didthe reckless prince, but he resolved to abide by his brother's word, though so lightly given. It was, in fact, a challenge to the decisivebattle, which was to determine whether Bruce or Plantagenet should reignin Scotland. 

Mowbray's appeal met with attention at court. Edward II. Had newlyrecovered from the loss of Gaveston, and hoped by some signal successto redeem his credit with his subjects. He sent his cousin, the Earlof Pembroke, who was well experienced in Scottish wars, to the North;despatched writs to ninety-three Barons to meet him with their retainersat Newcastle, three weeks after Easter, 1313; summoned all the Irishchiefs under his obedience to come with Richard de Burgh, Earl ofUlster; called in Gascon troops, placed a fleet under the charge ofJohn of Argyle, and took every measure for the supply of his army withprovisions, tents, and every other necessary. For once the activity andspirit of his father seemed to have descended upon him, and, as thesummer of 1313 drew on, he set out with Queen Isabel, and their infantson the Prince of Wales, to St. Alban's Abbey, where, amid prayers andofferings for the success of his enterprise, he bade her farewell. 

At Berwick he met his host, and, to his disappointment, found that fourof the disaffected earls, Lancaster, Warwick, Arundel, and Warrenne, had absented themselves; but they had sent their vassals in full force. Edward's troops, at the lowest computation, could not have been lessthan 100, 000, of whom 40, 000 were mounted, and 3, 000 of these wereknights and squires, both men and horses sheathed in plate-armor. 

To meet this force, Bruce could only muster 40, 000 men, poorly armed, and few of them mounted, and those on small, rough mountain steeds, utterly incapable of withstanding the shock of the huge Flemish chargersridden by the English knights. The fatal power of the English long-bowwas like wise well known to the Scots; but Bruce himself was a triedcaptain, and the greater part of his followers had been long trained bysuccession of fierce conflicts. They had many a wrong to revenge, andthey fought for home and hearth; stern, severe, savage, and resolute, they were men to whom defeat would have brought far worse thandeath--unlike the gay chivalry who had ridden from England as to asummer excursion. 

The army met in the Torwood, near Stirling, and were reviewed withcheerfulness by King Robert. He resolved to compensate for theinferiority of his cavalry by fighting on foot, and by abiding theattack in a field called the New Park, which was so covered with treesand brushwood, and broken by swamps, that the enemy's horse would losetheir advantage; and on the left, in the only open and level groundnear, he dug pits and trenches, and filled them with pointed stakes andiron weapons called calthorps, so as to impede the possible charge ofthe knights. 

The little burn, or brook, of Bannock, running through rugged groundcovered with wood, protected his right, and the village of St. Ninianwas in front. He divided his little army into four parts: the firstunder his brother Edward; the second under Douglas and young Walter, High Steward of Scotland; the third under Randolph; and the fourth body, the reserve, under his own command. The servants and baggage were placedon an eminence in the rear, still called Gillies Hill. 

By this time it was the 23d of June, and early on Sunday morning thesoldiers heard mass and confessed as dying men, then kept the vigil ofSt. John by fasting on bread and water. Douglas and Sir Robert Keithrode out to reconnoitre, and came back, reporting to the King thatthe enemy were advancing in full force, with banners displayed and inexcellent array; but warily spreading a rumor among the Scots that theywere confused and disorderly. 

In effect, Edward II. Had hurried on so hastily and inconsiderately, that his men and horses were spent and ill-fed when he arrived in theneighborhood of Stirling. Two miles from thence, he sent 800 horsemenwith Sir Robert Clifford, with orders to outflank the Scottish army, andthrow themselves into the town. Concealed by the village of St. Ninian, this body had nearly effected their object, when they were observed bythe keen eye of Bruce, who had directed his nephew to be on the watchagainst this very manoeuvre. Riding up on his little pony to Randolph, he upbraided him, saying, "Thoughtless man, you have lightly kept yourtrust! A rose has fallen from your chaplet!"

Randolph at once hurried off with a small body of his best men to repairhis error; but presently his little party were seen so hotly pressedby the English, that Douglas entreated to be allowed to hasten to hisrescue. "You shall not move, " said the King. "Let Randolph free himselfas he may. I will not alter my order of battle, nor lose my vantage ofground. "

"My liege, " cried Lord James, as the heavily-armed knights and horsesclosed in on the few Scottish foot, "I cannot stand by and see Randolphperish, when I can give him help! By your leave, I must go to hissuccor!"

Robert sighed consent, and Douglas hastened off; but at that momenthe beheld the English troop in confusion, some horses rushing awaymasterless, and the rest galloping off, while the Scots stood compactlyamong their dead enemies. 

"Halt!" then said Douglas, "they have won; we will not lessen theirglory by seeking to share it. "

By this time the foremost English battalions, with the Earls ofGloucester and Hereford, had come into the New Park, and were nearenough to see King Robert, with a gold crown on his helmet, riding onhis pony along the front of his lines. A relation of Hereford's, SirHenry Bohun, upon this sight, rode impetuously forward to make a suddenattack on the leader, expecting to bear him down at once by the weightof his war-horse. 

Bruce swerved aside, so as to avoid the thrust of the lance, and at thesame moment, rising in his stirrups, with his battle-axe in hand, hedealt a tremendous blow as Sir Henry was carried past; and such was theforce of his arm, that the knight dropped dead from his horse, with hisskull cleft nearly in two. 

The Scottish chiefs, proud of their King's prowess, but terrified by theperil he had run, entreated him to be more careful of his person; but heonly returned by a tranquil smile, as he looked at the blunted edge of. His weapon, saying "he had spoilt his good battle-axe. "

In revenge for this attack, the Scots pursued the English vanguard fora short distance, but the King recalled them to their ranks, and made aspeech, calling on them all to be in arms by break of day, forbiddingany man to break his line for pursuit or plunder, and promising that theheirs of such as might fall should receive their inheritance without theaccustomed feudal fine. 

All night there was the usual scene; the smaller and more resolute armywatched and prayed, the larger revelled and slept. Edward, among hisfavorites and courtiers, had hardly believed that there would "beany battle, and had no notion of generalship, keeping his whole armycompressed together, so that their large numbers were encumberinginstead of being available. Five hundred horse were closely attached tohis person, with the Earl of Pembroke, Sir Ingeltram de Umfraville, andSir Giles de Argentine, the last a gallant knight of St. John. When herode forward in the morning, Edward was absolutely amazed at thesight of the well-ordered lines of Scottish infantry, and turning toUmfraville, asked if he really thought those Scots would fight. At thatmoment Abbot Maurice, of Inchaffray, who had just been celebrating mass, came barefooted before the array, holding up a crucifix, and raising hishand in blessing, as all the army bent to the earth, with the prayers ofmen willingly offering themselves. 

"They kneel! they kneel!" cried Edward. "They are asking mercy. "

"They are, my liege, " said Umfraville, "but it is of God, not of us. These men will win the day, or die upon the field. "

"Be it so, " said the King, and gave the word. 

The Earls of Gloucester and Hereford rushed to the charge with loudwar-cries. Each Scot stood fast, blowing wild notes on the horn he woreat his neck, and the close ranks of infantry stood like rocks againstthe encounter of the mailed horse, their spears clattering against thearmor in the shock till the hills rang again. Randolph meanwhile led hissquare steadily on, till it seemed swallowed up in the sea of English;and Keith, with the five hundred horsemen of the Scots army, making asudden turn around Milton Bog, burst in flank upon the English archery, ever the main strength of the army. The long-bow had won, and was againto win, many a fair field; but at Bannockburn the manoeuvre of theScots was ruinous to the yeomanry, who had no weapons fit for a closeencounter with mounted men-at-arms, and were trodden down and utterlydispersed. 

The ground was hotly contested by the two armies; banners rose and fell, and the whole field was slippery with blood, and strewn with fragmentsof armor, shivers of lances and arrows, and rags of scarfs and pennons. The English troops began to waver. "They fail! they fail!" was theScottish cry, and as they pressed on with double vehemence, there rosea shout that another host was coming to their aid. It was only theservants on the Gillies Hill, crowding down in the excitement ofwatching the battle, but to the dispirited English they appeared aformidable reinforcement of the enemy; and Robert Bruce, profiting bythe consternation thus occasioned, charged with his reserve, and decidedthe fate of the day. His whole line advancing, the English array finallybroke, and began to disperse. Earl Gilbert of Gloucester made an attemptto rally, and, mounted on a noble steed--a present from the King--rodefuriously against Edward Bruce; but his retainers hung back, and hewas borne down and slain before his armorial bearings were recognized. Clifford and twenty-seven other Barons were slain among the pits, andthe rout became general. The Earl of Pembroke, taking the King's horseby the bridle, turned him from the field, and his five hundred guardswent with him. Sir Giles de Argentine saw them safely out of the battle, then, saying, "It is not my custom to fly!" he bade Edward farewell, andturned back, crying, "An Argentine!" and was slain by Edward Bruce'sknights. 

Douglas followed hotly on the King, with sixty horse, and on the way metSir Laurence Abernethy with twenty more, coming to join the English; butfinding how matters stood, the time-serving knight gladly proceeded tohunt the fugitives, and they scarcely let Edward II. Draw rein till hehad ridden sixty miles, even to Dunbar, whence he escaped by sea. 

Bannockburn was the most total defeat which has ever befallen an Englisharmy. Twenty-seven nobles were killed, twenty-two more and sixty knightsmade prisoners, and the number of obscure soldiers slain, drowned in theForth, or killed by the peasantry, exceeds calculation. The camp wastaken, with an enormous booty in treasure, jewels, rich robes, finehorses, herds of cattle, machines for the siege of towns, and, in short, such an amount of baggage that the wagons for the transport werenumerous enough to extend in one line for sixty miles. Even the King'ssignet was taken, and Edward was forced to cause another to be made tosupply its place. One prisoner was a Carmelite friar named Baston, whomEdward of Caernarvon had brought with him to celebrate his victory inverse; whereupon Robert imposed the same task by way of ransom; and thepoem, in long, rhyming Latin verses, is still extant. 

The plunder was liberally shared among the Scottish army, and theprisoners were treated with great courtesy and generosity. The slainwere reverently buried where they fell, except Lord Clifford and theEarl of Gloucester, whose corpses were carried to St. Ninian's kirk, andsent with all honor to England. 

Bruce had not forgotten that the blood of the Clares ran in his ownveins, and that Gloucester had warned him of his danger at King Edward'scourt: he not only lamented for the young Earl, but he released Ralph deMonthermer, the stepfather of Earl Gilbert, and gave him the signet-ringof Edward II. To bear home. 

Gilbert was the last male of the stout old line of De Clares. Gloucester, and his estates descended to his three sisters--Margaret, the widow of Gaveston; Eleanor, the wife of Hugh le Despenser; andElizabeth, who shortly after married John de Burgh, Earl of Ulster. 

The Earl of Hereford had taken refuge in Bothwell Castle, but was unableto hold it out, and surrendered. He was exchanged for captives no lessprecious to Robert Bruce than his well-earned crown. The wife, daughter, and sister, who had been prisoners for eight years, were set free, together with the Bishop of Glasgow, now blind, and the young Earl ofMar. Marjory Bruce had grown from a child to a maiden in her Englishprison, and she was soon betrothed to the young Walter, Steward ofScotland; but it was enacted that, if she should remain without abrother, the crown should descend to her uncle Edward. 

That midsummer battle of Bannockburn undid all the work of Edward I. , and made Scotland an independent kingdom for three hundred years longer. Ill-government, a discontented nobility, and a feeble King, had broughtEngland so low, that the troops could not shake off their dejection, and a hundred would flee before two or three Scottish soldiers. Bruce ravaged the northern counties every summer, leaving famine andpestilence behind him; but Edward II. Had neither spirit nor resolutionto make war or peace. The mediation of the Pope and King of Francewas ineffectual, and years of warfare passed on, impressing habits ofperpetual license and robbery upon the borderers of either nation. 

 CAMEO XXXIX. 

 THE KNIGHTS OF THE TEMPLE. (1292-1316. )

 _Kings of England_. 1272. Edward I. 1307. Edward II. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 

 _Kings of France_. 1285. Philippe IV. 1314. Louis X. 

 _Emperors of Germany_. 1292. Adolph. 1296. Albert I. 1308. Henry VII. 1314. Louis V. 

 _Popes_. 1296. Boniface VIII. 1303. Benedict XI. 1305. Clement V. 

Crusades were over. The dream of Edward I. Had been but a dream, andself-interest and ambition directed the swords of Christian princesagainst each other rather than against the common foe. The WesternChurch was lapsing into a state of decay and corruption, from which shewas only partially to recover at the cost of disruption and disunion, and the power which the mighty Popes of the twelfth century had gatheredinto a head became, for that very cause, the tool of an unscrupulousmonarch. 

The colony of Latins left in Palestine had proved a most unsuccessfulexperiment; the climate enervated their constitutions; the _poulains_, as those were called who were born in the East, had all the badqualities of degenerate races, and were the scorn, and derision of Arabsand Europeans alike; nor could the defence have been kept up at all, hadit not been for the constant recruits from cooler climates. Adventurousyoung men tried their swords in the East, banished men there sought torecover their fame, the excommunicate strove to win pardon by his sword, or the forgiven to expiate his past crime; and, besides these irregularaids, the two military and monastic orders of Templars and Hospitallerswere constantly fed by supplies of young nobles trained to arms anddiscipline in the numerous commanderies and preceptories scatteredthroughout the West. 

Admirable as warriors, desperate in battle, offering no ransom buttheir scarf, these knightly monks were the bulwark of Christendom, andwould have been doubly effective save for the bitter jealousies of thetwo orders against each other, and of both against all other Crusaders. Not a disaster happened in the Holy Land but the treachery of one orderor the other was said to have occasioned it; and, on the whole, thegreater degree of obloquy seems usually, whether justly or not, to havelighted on the Knights of the Temple. They were the richer and theprouder of the two orders; and as the duties of the hospital were notincluded in their vows, they neither had the same claims to gratitude, nor the softening influence of the exercise of charity, and were simplystern, hated, dreaded soldiers. 

After a desperate siege, Acre fell, in 1292, and the last remnant of theLatin possessions in the East was lost. The Templars and Hospitallersfought with the utmost valor, forgot their feuds in the common danger, and made such a defence that the Mussulmans fancied that, when oneChristian died, another came out of his mouth and renewed the conflict;but at last they were overpowered by force of numbers, and were finallyburied under the ruins of the Castle of the Templars. The remains ofthe two orders met in the Island of Cyprus, which belonged to Henry deLusignan, claimant of the crown of Jerusalem. There they mustered theirforces, in the hope of a fresh Crusade; but as time dragged on, andtheir welcome wore out, they found themselves obliged to seek newquarters. The Knights of the Hospital, true to their vows, won sword inhand the Isle of Rhodes from the Infidel, and prolonged their existencefor five centuries longer as a great maritime power, the guardians ofthe Mediterranean and the terror of the African corsairs. The KnightsTemplars, in an evil hour for themselves, resolved to spend their timeof expectation in their numerous rich commanderies in Europe, where theyhad no employment but to collect their revenues and keep their swordsbright; and it cannot but be supposed that they would thus be temptedinto vicious and overbearing habits, while the sight of so formidable aband of warriors, owning no obedience but to their Grand Master and thePope, must have been alarming to the sovereign of the country. Stillthere are no tokens of their having disturbed the peace during thetwenty-two years that their exile lasted, and it was the violence of aking and the truckling of a pope that effected their ruin. 

Philippe IV. , the pest of France, had used his power over the Frenchclergy to misuse and persecute the fierce old pontiff, Boniface VIII. , and it was no fault of Philippe that the murder of Becket was notparodied at Anagni. Fortunately for the malevolent designs of the King, his messengers quailed, and contented themselves with terrifying the oldman into a frenzied suicide, instead of themselves slaying him. The nextPope lived so few days after his election, that it was believed thatpoison had removed him; and the cardinals remained shut up for ninemonths at Perugia, trying in vain to come to a fresh choice. Finally, Philippe fixed their choice on a wretched Gascon, who took the name ofClement V. , first, however, making him swear to fulfil six conditions, the last and most dreadful of which was to remain a secret until thetime when the fulfilment should be required of him. 

Lest his unfortunate tool should escape from his grasp, or gain theprotection of any other sovereign, Philippe transplanted the whole papalcourt to Avignon, which, though it used to belong to the Roman empire, had, in the break-up after the fall of the Swabian house, become ineffect part of the French dominions. 

There the miserable Clement learned the sixth condition, and, not daringto oppose it, gave the whole order of the Templars up into his cruelhands, promising to authorize his measures, and pronounce theirabolition. Philippe's first measure was to get them all into his hands, and for this purpose he proclaimed a Crusade, and actually himself tookthe Cross, with his son-in-law Edward II. , at the wedding of Isabel. 

Jacque de Molay, the Grand Master, hastened from Cyprus, and convokedall his chief knights to take counsel with the French King on thislaudable undertaking. He was treated with great distinction, and evenstood godfather to a son of the King. The greater number of the Templarswere at their own Tower of the Temple at Paris, with others dispersedin numbers through the rest of France, living at ease and securely, respected and feared, if not beloved, and busily preparing for anonslaught upon the common foe. 

Meanwhile, two of their number, vile men thrown into prison for formercrimes--one French, the other Italian--had been suborned by Philippe'semissaries to make deadly accusations against their brethren, such asmight horrify the imagination of an age unused to consider evidence. These tales, whispered into the ear of Edward II. By his wilyfather-in-law, together with promises of wealth and lands to be wrestedfrom them, gained from him a promise that he would not withstand themeasures of the French King and Pope; and, though he was too much shockedby the result not to remonstrate, his feebleness and inconsistencyunfitted him either to be a foe or a champion. 

On the 14th of September, 1307, Philippe sent out secret orders to hisseneschals. On the 13th of October, at dawn of day, each house of theTemplars was surrounded with armed men, and, ere the knights could risefrom their beds, they were singly mastered, and thrown into prison. 

Two days after, on Sunday, after mass, the arrest was made known, andthe crimes of which the unfortunate men were accused. They were to betried before the grand inquisitor, Guillaume Humbert, a Dominican friar;but in the meantime, to obtain witness against them, they were starved, threatened, and tortured in their dungeons, to gain from them someconfession that could be turned against them. Out of six hundredknights, besides a much greater number of mere attendants, there couldnot fail to be some few whose minds could not withstand the misery oftheir condition, and between these and the two original calumnies, amass of horrible stories was worked up in evidence. 

It was said that, while outwardly wearing the white cross on their robe, bearing the vows of chivalry, exercising the holy offices of priests, and bound by the monastic rules, there was in reality an inner society, bound to be the enemies of all that was holy, into which they wereadmitted upon their reviling and denying their faith, and committingoutrages on the cross and the images of the saints. It was further saidthat they worshipped the devil in the shape of a black cat, and wore hisimage on a cord round their waists; that they anointed a great silverhead with the fat of murdered children; that they practised every kindof sorcery, performed mass improperly, never went to confession, and hadbetrayed Palestine to the Infidels. 

For the last count of the indictment the blood that had watered Canaanfor two hundred years was answer enough. As to the confessional, theaccusation emanated from the Dominicans, who were jealous of theTemplars confessing to priests of their own order. With respect to themass, it appears that the habits of the Templars were similar to thoseof the Cistercian monks; who, till The Lateran Council, had not elevatedthe Host to receive adoration from the people. 

The accusation of magic naturally adhered to able men conversant withthe East. The head was found in the Temple at Paris. It was made ofsilver, resembled a beautiful woman, and was, in fact, a reliquarycontaining the bones of one of the 11, 000 virgins of Cologne. But truthwas not wanted; and under the influence of solitary imprisonment, hunger, damp and loathsome dungeons, and two years of terror and misery, enough of confessions had been extorted for Philippe's purpose by theyear 1309. 

Many had died under their sufferings, and some had at first confessedin their agonies, and, when no longer tortured, had retracted all theirdeclarations with horror. These became dangerous, and were thereforedeclared to be relapsed heretics, and fifty-six were burnt by slowdegrees in a great inclosure, surrounded by stakes, all crying out, andpraying devoutly and like good Christians till the last. 

Having thus horribly intimidated recusant witnesses, the King caused thePope to convoke a synod at Paris, before which the Grand Master, Jacquesde Molay, was cited. He was a brave old soldier, but no scholar, anddarkness, hunger, torture, and distress had so affected him, that, whenbrought into the light of day, he stood before the prelates and barons, among whom he had once been foremost, so utterly bewildered andconfused, that the judges were forced to remand him for two days torecover his faculties. 

When brought before them again, he was formally asked whether he woulddefend his order, or plead for himself. He made answer that he shouldbe contemptible in his own eyes, and those of all the world, did he notdefend an order which had done so much for him, but that he was in suchpoverty that he had not fourpence left in the world, and that he mustbeg for an advocate, to whom he would mention the great kings, princes, barons, bishops, and knights whose witness would at once clear hisknights from the monstrous charges brought against them. 

Thereupon he was told that advocates were not allowed to men accused ofheresy, and that he had better take care how he contradicted his owndeposition, or he would be condemned as relapsed. His own deposition, as three cardinals avouched that he had made it before them, was thentranslated to him from the Latin, which he did not understand. Inhorror-struck amazement at hearing such words ascribed to himself, theold knight twice made the sign of the cross, and exclaimed, "If thecardinals were other sort of men, he should know how to deal with them!"

He was told that the cardinals were not there to receive a challenge tobattle. "No, " he said, "that was not what he meant; he only wished thatmight befall them which was done by the Saracens and Tartars to infamousliars--whose heads they cut off. "

He was sent back to prison and brought back again, less vehement againsthis accusers, but still declaring himself a faithful Christian, andbegging to be admitted to the rites of religion; but he was left tolanguish in his dungeon for two years longer, while two hundred andthirty-one witnesses were examined before the commissaries. In May, 1311, five hundred and forty-four persons belonging to the order wereled before the judges from the different prisons, while eight of themost distinguished knights, and their agent at Rome, undertook theirdefence. Their strongest plea was, that not a Templar had criminatedhimself, except in France, where alone torture had been employed;but they could obtain no hearing, and a report was drawn up by thecommissaries to the so-called Council of Vienne. This was held byClement V. In the early part of 1312; and on the 6th of March it passeda decree abolishing the Order of the Temple, and transmitting itspossessions to the Knights of St. John. 

There were other councils held to try the Templars in the other landswhere they had also been seized. In England, the confessions of theknights tortured in France were employed as evidence, together with thewitness of begging friars, minstrels, women, and discreditable persons;and on the decision of the Council of Vienne, the poor knightsconfessed, as well they might, that their order had fallen under evilreport, and were therefore pardoned and released, with the forfeiture ofall their property to the hospital. Their principal house in England wasthe Temple in Fleet street, where they had built a curious round churchin the twelfth century, when it was consecrated by the PatriarchHeraclius of Jerusalem. The shape was supposed to be like the HolySepulchre, to whose service they were devoted; but want of space obligedthem to add a square building of three aisles beyond. This, with therest of their property, devolved on the Order of St. John, who, inthe next reign, let the Temple buildings for £10 per annum to thelaw-students of London, and in their possession it has ever sincecontinued. The ancient seal of the knights, representing two men mountedupon one horse, was assumed by the benchers of one side of the Temple, though in the classical taste of later times the riders were turned intowings, and the steed into Pegasus; while their brethren bear the lamband banner, likewise a remembrance of the Crusaders who founded theround church, eight of whom still lie in effigy upon the floor. 

In Spain the bishops would hardly proceed at all against the Templars, and secured pensions for them out of the confiscated property. InPortugal they were converted into a new order for the defence of therealm. In Germany, they were allowed to die out unmolested; but in ItalyPhilippe's influence was more felt, and they were taken in the same netwith those in France. There the King's coffers were replenished withtheir spoil, very little of which ever found its way to the Knights ofSt. John. The knights who half confessed, and then recanted, were put todeath; those who never confessed at all, were left in prison; those whoadmitted the guilt of the order, were rewarded by a miserable existenceat large. The great dignitaries--Jacques de Molay, the Grand Master, andGuy, the son of the Dauphin of Auvergne, the Commander of Normandy, andtwo others--languished in captivity till the early part of 1314, whenthey were led out before Notre Dame to hear their sentence read, condemning them to perpetual imprisonment, and rehearsing their ownconfession once more against them. 

The Grand Master and Guy of Auvergne, both old men, wasted withimprisonment and torture, no sooner saw the face of day, the grand oldcathedral, and the assembly of the people, than they loudly protestedthat these false and shameful confessions were none of theirs; thattheir dead brethren were noble knights and true Christians; and thatthese foul slanders had never been uttered by them, but inventedby wicked men, who asked them questions in a language they did notunderstand, while they, noble barons, belted knights, sworn Crusaders, were stretched on the rack. 

The Bishops present were shocked at the exposure of their treatment, andplaced them in the hands of the Provost of Paris, saying that they wouldconsider their case the next morning. But Philippe, dreading a reactionin their favor, declared them relapsed, and condemned them to the flamesthat very night, the 18th of March. A picture is extant in Germany, saidto have been of the time, showing the meek face of the white-haired, white-bearded Molay, his features drawn with wasting misery, his eyesone mute appeal, his hands bound over the large cross on his breast. Hedied proclaiming aloud the innocence of his order, and listened to withpity and indignation by the people. His last cry, ere the flames stifledhis voice, was an awful summons to Pope Clement to meet him before thetribunal of Heaven within forty days; to King Philippe to appear therein a year and a day. 

Clement V. Actually died on the 20th of April; and while his nephews andservants were plundering his treasures, his corpse was consumed by firecaught from the wax-lights around his bier. His tyrant, Philippe le Bel, was but forty-six years of age, still young-looking and handsome; butthe decree had gone forth against him, and he fell into a bad state ofhealth. He was thrown from his horse while pursuing a wild boar, and theaccident brought on a low fever, which, on the 29th of November, 1314, brought him likewise to the grave. He left three sons, all perishing, after unhappy marriages, in the flower of their age, and one daughter, the disgrace and misery of France and England alike. 

So perished the Templars; so their persecutors! It is one of the darkesttragedies of that age of tragedies; and in many a subsequent page shallwe trace the visitation for their blood upon guilty France and on theline of Valois. They were not perfect men. They have left an evil name, for they were hard, proud, often, licentious men, and the "Red Monk"figures in many a tradition of horror; but there can be no doubt thatthe brotherhood had its due proportion of gallant, devoted warriors, whofought well for the cross they bore. Their fate has been well sung byLord Houghton:

 "The warriors of the sacred grave, Who looked to Christ for laws, And perished for the faith they gave Their comrades and the cause;

 They perished, in one fate alike, The veteran and the boy, Where'er the regal arm could strike, To torture and destroy:

 While darkly down the stream of time, Devised by evil fame, Float murmurs of mysterious crime, And tales of secret shame. 

 How oft, when avarice, hate, or pride, Assault some noble hand, The outer world, that scorns the side It does not understand, Echoes each foul derisive word, Gilds o'er each hideous sight, And consecrates the wicked sword With names of holy right. 

 Yet by these lessons men awake To know they cannot bind Discordant will's in one, and make An aggregate of mind. 

 For ever in our best essays At close fraternal ties An evil narrowness waylays Our present sympathies;

 And love, however bright it burns For what it holds roost fond, Is tainted by its unconcern For all that lies beyond. 

 And still the earth has many a knight By high vocation bound To conquer in enduring tight The Spirit's holy ground. 

 And manhood's pride and hopes of youth Still meet the Templar's doom, Crusaders of the ascended truth, Not of the empty tomb. "

 CAMEO XL. 

 THE BARONS' WARS. (1310-1327. )

 _King of England_. 1307. Edward II. 1314. Louis X. 1316. Philippe V. 1322. Charles IV. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 1314. Louis V. 

 _Kings of France_. 1285. Philippe IV

 _Emperors of Germany. 1308. Henry VII. 

 _Popes_. 1305. Clement V. 1316. John XXII. 

It was the misfortune of Edward of Caernarvon that he could not attachhimself in moderation. Among the fierce Earls, and jealous, distrustfulBarons, he gladly distinguished a man of gentle mould, who could returnhis affection; but he could not bestow his favor discreetly, and alwaysended by turning the head of his favorite and offending his subjects. 

There was at his court a noble old knight, Sir Hugh le Despenser, whoseancestors had come over with William the Conqueror, and whose father hadbeen created a Baron in 1264, as a reward for his services against Simonde Montfort. To this gentleman, and to his son Hugh, Edward becamewarmly attached; and apparently not undeservedly, for they were bothgallant and knightly, and the son was highly accomplished, and of fineperson. Edward made him his chamberlain, and gave him in marriageEleanor de Clare, the sister of the Earl of Gloucester who was killed atBannockburn, and one of the heiresses of the great earldom, with all itsrights on the Welsh marches. 

Still, the love and sympathy of the nation were with the King's cousin, Thomas, Earl of Lancaster, who probably obtained favor by liberality, orby the arts for which poor Gaveston had named him the "stage-player, "since his life seems to have been dissolute under much appearanceof devotion. The last great Earl of Lincoln had chosen him as hisson-in-law, while the intended bride, Alice, was yet a young child. In1310, just after Gaveston's fall, Lincoln died, and the little CountessAlice, then only twelve years old, became the wife of Lancaster; but in1317 mutual accusations were made on the part of the Earl and Countess, and Alice claimed to be set free, on account of a previous promise ofmarriage; while Lancaster complained of Earl Warrenne for having alloweda humpbacked knight, named Richard St. Martin, to carry Alice off to oneof his castles, called Caneford, and there to obtain from her the trothnow pleaded against him. Edward II. Told Lancaster that he might proceedagainst Warrenne in the ordinary course of law: but this he would notdo, as he did not wish to prove his wife's former contract, lest heshould lose her great estates with herself; and instead of goinghonorably to work, he added this reply to his list of discontentsagainst the King. 

His friends even set it about that Edward II. Was not the true son ofEdward I. ; and a foolish man, named John Deydras, even came forwardprofessing to be the real Edward of Caernarvon, who had been changed atnurse; but no one believed him, and he was hanged for treason. A likestory was invented, and even a ballad was current, making Queen Eleanorof Provence confess that Edmund Crouchback, not Edward I. , was therightful heir, but that he was set aside on account of his deformity;and Lancaster, as Edmund's son, was on the watch to profit by the King'sunpopularity. Discontents were on the increase, and were augmented by asevere famine, and by the constant incursions of the Scots. Such was thewant of corn, that, to prevent the consumption of grain, an edict wasenacted that no beer should be brewed; and meat of any kind was soscarce, that, though the King decreed that, on pain of forfeiture, an oxshould be sold for sixteen shillings, a sheep for three and sixpence, and a fowl for a penny, none of these creatures were forthcoming on anyterms. Loathsome animals were eaten; and it was even said that parentswere forced to keep a strict watch over their children, lest they shouldbe stolen and devoured. 

While the King and Queen were banquetting at Westminster, atWhitsuntide, 1317, a masked lady rode into the hall on horseback, anddelivered a letter to the King. Imagining it to be some sportivechallenge or gay compliment, he ordered that it should be read aloud;but it proved to be a direful lamentation over the state of England, andan appeal to him to rouse himself from his pleasures and attend to thegood of his people. The bearer was at once pursued and seized, when sheconfessed that she had been sent by a knight; and he, on being summoned, asked pardon, saying he had not expected that the letter would be readin public, but that he deemed it the only means of drawing the King'sattention to the miseries of his people. It may be feared that theletter met with the fate of Jeremiah's roll. 

A cloud was already rising in the West, which seemed small andtrifling, but which was fraught with bitter hatred and envy, ere long toburst in a storm upon the heads of the King and his friends. The firstseeds of strife were sown by the dishonesty of a knight on the bordersof Wales, one William de Breos. He began his career by trying to cheathis stepmother of her dower of eight hundred marks; and when the lawdecided against him, he broke out into such unseemly language againstthe judge, that he was sentenced to walk bareheaded from the King'sBench to the Exchequer to ask pardon, and then committed to the Tower. In after years he returned to his lordship of Gower, and there committedan act of fraud which led to the most fatal consequences. Having twodaughters, Aliva and Jane, the eldest of whom was married to John deMowbray and the second to James de Bohun, he executed a deed, settlinghis whole estate upon Aliva, and, in case of her death without children, upon Jane. But concealing this arrangement, he next proceeded to sellGower three times over--to young Le Despenser, to Roger Mortimer, and tothe Earl of Hereford; and having received all their purchase-money, heabsconded therewith. 

Mowbray took possession of Gower in right of his wife, and was thusfirst in the field; but Hugh le Despenser, whose purchase had beensanctioned by the King, came down upon him with a strong hand, and drovehim out of the property. Thereupon Mowbray made common cause with allthe other cheated claimants, De Bohun joining the head of his house, thegreat Earl of Hereford, who, with Roger Mortimer and his uncle, anotherMortimer of the same name, revenged their wrongs by a foray upon LadyEleanor le Despenser's estates in Glamorganshire, killing her servants, burning her castles, and driving off her cattle, so that in a few nightsthey had done several thousand pounds' worth of damage. The King, muchincensed, summoned the Earl of Hereford to appeal before the council;but the Earl demanded that Hugh le Despenser should be previously placedin the custody of the Earl of Lancaster until the next parliament; and, on the King's refusal, made another inroad on the lands of theDespensers, and betook himself to Yorkshire, where the Earl of Lancasterwas collecting all the malcontents. 

The two Earls, the Lords of the Marches or borders of Wales, andthirty-four Barons and Knights, bound themselves by a deed, agreeing toprosecute the two Despensers until they should be driven into exile, andto maintain the quarrel to the honor of Heaven and Holy Church, and theprofit of the King and his family. Lancaster proceeded to march uponLondon, allowing his men to live upon the plunder of the estates of thetwo favorites. From St. Alban's he sent a message to the King, requiringthe banishment of the father and son, and immunity for his own party. Edward made a spirited answer, that the father was beyond sea in hisservice; the son with the fleet; that he would never sentence any manunheard; and that it would be contrary to his coronation oath to promiseimmunity to men in arms against the public peace. 

The Barons advanced to London, and, quartering their followers inHolborn and Clerkenwell, spent a fortnight in deliberation. It appearsthat the token of adherence to their party was the wearing of a whitefavor, on which account the session of 1321 was called the Parliament ofthe White Bands. One day, when these white ensigns mustered strongly, the Barons brought forward an accusation on eleven counts against thetwo Despensers, and on their own authority, in the presence of the King, banished them from the realm, and pardoned themselves for their risingin arms. Edward had no power to resist, and, accordingly, the act wasentered on the rolls, and the younger Hugh was driven from Dover, tojoin his father on the Continent. 

This success rendered the Barons' party insolent, and about two monthsafter, when Queen Isabel was on pilgrimage to Canterbury, and had senther purveyors to prepare a lodging for her at her own royal Castleof Leeds, the Lady Badlesmere, wife to the Castellane, who was alsogovernor of Bristol and had received numerous favors from Edward, refused admittance, fearing damage to her party; and the Queen riding upin the midst of the parley, a volley of arrows was discharged from thecastle, and six of the royal escort were killed. 

Isabel of course complained loudly of such a reception at her own castle, whereupon Bartholomew Badlesmere himself wrote from Bristol Castle animpudent letter, justifying his wife's conduct. Isabel was much hurt, since she had always been friendly to the Barons' party; and when shefound that even her uncle of Lancaster stood by the Badlesmeres, shepersuaded the King to raise an army to revenge the affront offered to her. Summonses were therefore sent out, and the Londoners, with whom the Queenwas very popular, came in great force, and laid siege to Leeds Castle. Lady Badlesmere expected to be succored by Lancaster; but he would notcome forward, and in a few days her castle was taken, her steward, WalterCulpepper, hanged, and herself committed to the Tower. 

Such a bold stroke on the King's part emboldened the elder Le Despenserreturn to England and join his master. Thereupon Lancaster summoned theother nobles to meet him at Doncaster, to consult what measures shouldbe taken against the minions, and led an army to seize Warwick Castle, which, during the minority of Earl Thomas of Warwick, belonged to theKing. In the meantime, Hugh followed his father, but, with Englishrespect for order, put himself under custody until his sentence ofbanishment should be revoked. The matter was tried before the Bishops ofthe province of Canterbury, when it was argued, on behalf of Hugh, that Magna Charta had been set at naught by his condemnation without ahearing, and that the King's consent had been extorted by force; and theEarl of Kent, Edward's brother, with several others, making oath thatthey had been overawed by the White Bands, the banishment was declaredillegal, and the prisoners set at liberty. 

Lancaster proceeded to raise the north of England; Hereford and the twoMortimers went to the marches of Wales to collect their forces; andEdward, for once under the wise counsel of the Chancellor John deSalmon, set forth alertly in December toward the West, that he mightdeal with the two armies separately. He was very popular on the Welshborder, and met with rapid success, breaking up the forces of the LordsMarchers before they could come to a head, and finally making both theMortimers prisoners, sending them to the Tower. Hereford, with 8, 000 men, made his way to join Lancaster, who was at the head of a considerableforce, and had already taken the miserable step of entering intocorrespondence with Robert Bruce, Douglas, and Randolph. Elated by thesuccor which they promised, Lancaster advanced and laid siege to TicknallCastle, but was forced to retreat on the approach of the King. AtBurton-upon-Trent, however, they halted for three days, with Edwardopposite to them. 

 "Upon the mount the King his tentage fixt, And in the town the Barons lay in sight, When as the Trent was risen so betwixt, That for a while prolonged the unnatural fight. "

However, a ford was found, and the royal army crossing, Lancasterset fire to Burton, and retreated into Yorkshire, writing again fromPuntefract Castle under the signature of King Arthur, to ask aid fromthe Scots, and secure his retreat. 

As Michael Drayton observes, "Bridges should seem to Barons ominous;"for at Boroughbridge, upon the Ure, Lancaster found Sir Andrew Harclayand Sir Simon Ward, Governors of York and Carlisle, with a band ofnorthern troops, ready to cut off his retreat. The bridge was too narrowfor cavalry, and Hereford therefore led a charge on foot; but in thisperilous undertaking he was slain by a Welshman who was hidden under thebridge, and who thrust a lance through a crevice of the boarding intohis body as he passed. His fall discomfited the rest, and Lancaster, whohad been attempting a ford, was driven back by the archery. He tried tobribe Sir Andrew Harclay. And, failing, begged for a truce of one night, still hoping that the Scots might arrive. Harclay granted this, but inearly morning summoned the sheriff and the county-force to arrest theEarl. Lancaster retired into a chapel and, looking on the crucifix, said, "Good Lord, I render myself to Thee, and put myself into Thymercy. " He was taken to York for one night, and afterward, to his ownCastle of Pontefract, where, on the King's last disastrous retreatfrom Scotland, he had mocked and jeered at his sovereign from thebattlements: and Harclay took care to make generally known thetreasonable correspondence with Scotland, proofs of which had been foundon the person of the dead Hereford. 

The King presently arriving at Pontefract, brought Lancaster to trialbefore six Earls and a number of Barons; and as his treason wasmanifest, he was told that it would be to no purpose to speak in his owndefence, and was sentenced to the death of a traitor. In considerationof his royal blood, Edward remitted the chief horrors of the execution, and made it merely decapitation; but as the Earl was led to a hilloutside the town, on a gray pony without a bridle, the mob pelted himand jeered him by his assumed name of King Arthur. "King of Heaven, "he cried, "grant me mercy! for the king of earth hath forsaken me. " Heknelt by the black with his face to the east, but he was bidden to turnto the north, that he might look toward his friends, the Scots; and inthis manner he was beheaded. The inhabitants of the northern countieswere not likely to think lightly of the offence of bringing in theScots, and yet in a short time there was a strong change of feeling. Lancaster was mourned as "the good Earl, " and miracles were said to bewrought at his tomb. The King was obliged to write orders to the Bishopof London to forbid the people from offering worship to his picture hungup in St. Paul's Church; and Drayton records a tradition that "grasswould never grow where the battle of Boroughbridge had been fought. " Itseemed as if Lancaster had succeeded to the reputation of Montfort, asa protector of the liberties of the country: but to our eyes he appearsmore like a mere factious, turbulent noble, acting rather from spite andparty spirit than as a redresser of wrongs; never showing the respectfor law and justice manifested by the opponents of Edward I. ; and, infact, constraining the Royalists to appeal to Magna Charta against him. Still there must have been something striking and attractive about him, for, after his death, even his injured cousin Edward lamented him, andreproached his nobles for not having interceded for him. Fourteenbannerets and fourteen other knights were executed, being all who weretaken in arms against the King; the others were allowed to make peace;and the Mortimers, who had been condemned to death, had their sentencechanged to perpetual imprisonment. Hereford's estates passed on to theeldest of his large family, the King's own nephews. Lancaster left nochildren, but his brother, Henry Wryneck, Earl of Derby, did notreceive his estates till they had been mulcted largely on behalf ofthe Despensers. The father was created Earl of Winchester, and the sonreceived such bounty from the King, that all the old hatred againstPiers Gaveston was revived, though it does not appear that Hugh provokeddislike by any such follies or extravagances. 

The elder Roger Mortimer, the uncle, died in the Tower. The youngercontrived, after a year's imprisonment, to make interest with one of theservants in the Tower, Gerard de Asplaye, with whose assistance he gavean entertainment to his guards, drugged their liquor, so as to throwthem into a heavy sleep, broke through the wall into the royal kitchen, and thence escaped by a rope-ladder. Report afterward averred that itwas the fairest hand in England that drugged the wine and held the rope, and that Queen Isabel, "From the wall's height, as when he down did slide, Had heard him cry, 'Now, Fortune, be my guide!'"

Thus far is certain, that Isabel and Mortimer were inmates of the Towerat the same time, in the year 1321; for she was left there while theKing was gone in pursuit of Lancaster, and she there gave birth to herfourth child, Joan. Whether the prisoner then sought an interview withher, is not known, but he was a remarkably handsome man, and Isabel, attwenty-six years of age, was beautiful, proud, and with bitterness inher heart against her husband for his early neglect. She had been onfairly good terms with him ever since the birth of the Prince of Wales, and her grace and beauty, her affable manners, and the idea that she wasill-used, made her a great favorite with the English nation; but she wasangered by the execution of her uncle, the Earl of Lancaster, and fromthe time of the King's return she proceeded to manifest great discontent, and as much dislike and jealousy of the Despensers as she had previouslyshown toward Gaveston. 

Mortimer escaped to France, and subsequent events made it seem as ifshe had been acting in concert with him. He had married a French lady, Jeanne de Joinville, and was taken at once into the service of KingCharles IV. 

Charles IV. , le Bel, was the youngest of Isabel's brothers, who hadsucceeded each other so quickly that it seemed as though thesacrilegious murder of the Templars was to be visited by the extinctionof the male line of Philippe IV. To Charles, Isabel sent greatcomplaints, declaring that she was "married to a gripple miser, and wasno better than a waiting-woman, living on a pension from theDespensers. " There had, in fact, been a fierce struggle with them forpower, and they had prevailed to have all her French attendantsdismissed, very probably on the discovery of the transactions withMortimer in the Tower, and a yearly income had been assigned to her inlieu of her royal estates. This was very irregularly paid, for affairswere in a most confused and disorderly state, managed in a most childishmanner. It appears that, when hunting at Windsor, the Chancellor Baldockgave the great seal to the King to keep, and that the King made it overto William de Ayremyne. 

There were no doubt grounds for complaint on both sides; but Charles leBel saw only his sister's view of the question, and resolved to quarrelwith his brother-in-law. Homage for the Duchy of Aquitaine had not beenrendered to him, and on this pretext he began to exercise all possiblemodes of annoyance on the borders, and to give judgment against anyGuiennois or Poitevins who sued against Edward as their liege lord, Edward remonstrated in vain, and sent his brother Edmund, Earl of Kent, a fine-looking but weak young man of twenty-two, to endeavor to makepeace, but in vain: on the first pretext, a war on the borders brokeout. 

Thereupon Edward took into his custody all the castles belonging to hiswife, declaring that he could not leave them in her hands while she wasin correspondence with the enemies of the country; and yet, with hisusual inconsistent folly, he listened to a proposal from her that sheshould go to Paris to bring about a peace with her brother. 

With four knights, Isabel crossed the sea, and presently made herappearance at Paris in the character of an injured Princess, kneelingbefore her brother, and asking his protection against the cruelty of herhusband; to which Charles replied, "Sister, be comforted; for, by myfaith to Monseigneur St. Denis, I will find a remedy. "

Isabel was lodged at the court of France, and treated with distinction. Mortimer and all the banished English repaired to her abode, and all thechivalry of France regarded her as an exiled heroine. She wrote to herhusband that peace might be scoured by the performance of the neglectedhomage, and he was actually setting out for the purpose, when, in asecond letter, she told him that his own presence was not needed, butthat his ceremony might be gone through by his son Edward, Prince ofWales, provided the duchy were placed in his hands as an appanage. 

This proposal met with approval, and young Edward, then twelve yearsold, under the charge of the Bishops of Exeter and Oxford, was sent toParis, after having promised his father to hasten his return, and not tomarry without his consent. 

No sooner had the boy arrived, than the homage was performed, and Edwardexpected the return of both mother and son; but they still delayed, andon receiving urgent letters from him, the Queen made public declarationthat she did not believe her life in safety from the Despensers. 

Poor King Edward, amazed, and almost thinking her under a delusion, roused all the prelates in the realm to write to her in defence of hisfriends, and himself wrote to her brother, saying that she could have noreasonable fear of any man in his dominions, since, if Hugh or any otherperson wished to do her any harm, he himself would be the first toresent it. He wrote likewise pre-emptorily to the Prince to return, butall in vain; and a light was thrown on their proceedings, when WalterStapleton, Bishop of Exeter, returned home as a fugitive, havingdiscovered a plot on Mortimer's part against his own life, and bringingword that Isabel's affection for Mortimer was the true cause of delay. It would also seem that the Bishop had in part detected a conspiracyagainst his master, for there were orders instantly sent to search allletters arriving at any of the ports. 

After Stapleton's return, Edward's letters to Charles, and even to thePope, became so pressing, that for very shame Charles could not allowhis sister to remain at Paris any longer, and, rather than provoke awar, he dismissed her. She was a woman of great plausibility andfascination, and she not only persuaded her young son to believe her indanger from his father, but she also won over her brother-in-law, theEarl of Kent, as well as her cousin, the Sieur Robert d'Artois; andsetting out from Paris in their company, she proceeded to theindependent German principalities in the guise of a dame-errant ofromance, misused by her husband, maltreated by her brother, denied arefuge even in her native country, and seeking aid from foreign princes. 

Every chivalrous heart, deluded by appearances, glowed with enthusiasm. At Ostrevant, John, the brother of the Count of Hainault, came and vowedhimself her knight, promising to redress her wrongs. He conducted her tohis brother's court at Hainault; and there the young Edward first beheldthe plump, blue-eyed, fair-haired, honest Philippa, a girl of about hisown age, and a youthful true-love sprang up between them--the sole gleamof light in this dark period. 

Isabel's beautiful face and mournful tale deluded the young, as didMortimer's promises the covetous. She finally set sail from Dort with2, 500 French and Brabançons, under the charge of Sir John of Hainault, and landed at Orwell, in Suffolk. The King had ordered that any one wholanded on the coast should be treated as a traitor, except the Queenand the Prince, and had set a price on the head of Mortimer; but noone attended to him. Isabel had won the sympathy of the nation by herfancied wrongs; and Adam Orleton, Bishop of Hereford, a former partisanof Lancaster, was working in her cause. 

Both the King's brothers, and his cousin, Henry of Lancaster, were ofher party; and the universal dislike and jealousy of Despenser made themore loyal disinclined to exert themselves in the King's behalf. Hesummoned the Londoners to take up arms, but was answered, that thoughthey would shut the gates against all foreigners, they would not be ledmore than a day's march beyond the city walls. He could only seek arefuge among his more attached subjects, the Welsh; and leaving hisyounger children and his niece, the wife of Hugh le Despenser, in theTower, he set off for the marches of Wales. No sooner was he gone, thanthe citizens rose, seized the Tower, and murdered the loyal Bishop ofExeter at St. Paul's Cross, throwing his body into the mud of the river, and sending his head to the Queen. 

The Queen, whose army increased every day, had arrived at Oxford, whereAdam Orleton preached a disgraceful sermon on the text, "My head, myhead acheth, " wherein he averred the startling prescription that thecure for an aching head was to cut it off, and that the present head ofEngland needed this decisive remedy. 

The poor King had gone to Gloucester, whence he sent the elder LeDespenser to hold out Bristol Castle; but the townspeople proved sodisaffected, that the castle was forced to surrender to the rebels onthe third day. The Queen appointed a judge, who sentenced the old man, ninety years of age, to be put to death; and the murder was committedthe following day, with all the circumstances of atrocity that had beenspared to Lancaster. At Bristol, Isabel became aware that her husbandhad fled farther to the West; he had, in fact, sailed, with Hugh leDespenser and the Chancellor Baldock, for Ireland, but he was drivenback by contrary winds, and forced to land in Glamorganshire. Hewandered from castle to castle, and was besieged at Caerphilli, whenceit is said that he escaped at night in the disguise of a peasant; and, to avoid detection, himself assisted in carrying brushwood to feed thefires of the besiegers. He next took refuge in a farmhouse, where thefarmer tried to baffle the pursuers by setting him to dig; but hisawkwardness in handling the spade had nearly betrayed him. For a shorttime he tarried at Neath Abbey, but left it lest the monks should sufferfor giving him shelter. At the end of another week Despenser and Baldockwere discovered, and delivered up to Henry of Lancaster; and on thisEdward came forward and gave himself up, to save them, or to share theirfate. 

There was no hope; the King was kept in close custody, and Baldock wasso ill-treated that he died shortly after. Hugh le Despenser would eatno food after he was taken; and, lest death should balk revenge, he wasat once brought to a sham trial, and accused of every misfortune thathad befallen England--of the loss of Bannockburn; of conspiracy againstthe Queen; of counselling the death of Lancaster; and of suppressingthe miracles at his tomb. For all which deeds Sir Hugh le Despenser wassentenced to die as a wicked and attainted traitor; and immediatelyafter he was drawn to execution in a black gown, with his scutcheonreversed, and a wreath of nettles around his head--but, happily, nearlyinsensible from exhaustion--and was hanged on a gallows fifty feet high. His son Hugh, a spirited young man of nineteen, held out CaerphilliCastle manfully, until he actually obtained a promise of safety, andlived to transmit the honors of the oldest barony now existing inEngland. 

The Earl of Arundel was likewise executed, and Mortimer seized hisproperty; after which the Queen set out for London, summoning theParliament to meet at Westminster. 

In this Parliament Adam Orleton began by making outrageous speeches asto the certain death it would be to the Queen and Prince if the Kingwere released and restored to his authority, and he called upon theLords to choose whether father or son should be King. The London mobclamored in fury without, ardent for the ruin of the King; and theArchbishop, saying, _Vox populi vox Dei_, added his influence. YoungEdward was led forward, and a few hymns being hastily sung, received theoaths of allegiance of all the peers present, except the prelates ofYork, London, Rochester, and Carlisle, who boldly maintained the rightsof the captive King, though with great danger to themselves. 

The Bishop of Rochester was thrown down by the furious mob, and nearlymurdered; and the sight so terrified the other friends of the poor King, that not a voice was raised in his defence. A bill was passed declaringEdward II. Deposed, and Edward III. The sovereign; whereupon Isabel, tokeep up appearances, lamented so much, that she actually deceived herson, who came forward, and with great spirit declared that he wouldnever deprive his father of the crown. 

The King was at Kenilworth, honorably treated by his cousin, Henry ofLancaster, and thither a deputation was sent to force him to resign hisdignity. The Bishops of Winchester and Lincoln were first sent to him toargue, threaten, and persuade, and, when they thought him sufficientlyprepared, led him in a plain black gown to make his formal renunciation. At the sight of his mortal enemy, Orleton, Edward sank to the ground, but recovered enough to listen to a violent discourse from that rebelprelate, reproaching him with all his misconduct, and requiring himto lay aside his crown. Meekly, and weeping floods of tears, Edwardreplied, that "he was in their hands, and they must do what seemed goodto them; he only thanked them for their goodness to his son, and ownedhis own sins to be the sole cause of his misfortunes. "

Then Sir William Trussel, in the name of all England, revoked the oathof allegiance, and the steward of the household broke his staff ofoffice, as he would have done had it been the funeral of his master. Would that it had been his funeral, must have been the wish of theunfortunate Sir Edward of Caernarvon, as he was thenceforth termed;disowned, degraded, with wife, son, and brothers turned against him; notone voice uplifted in his favor; all his friends murdered. He wrote somemelancholy Latin verses during his captivity, full of sad complaints ofthe inconstancy of Fortune; but he had not yet experienced the worstthat was in store for him. At first, presents of clothes and kindlymessages were sent to him by the Queen; and when he begged to see her orhis children, she replied that it would not be permitted by Parliament. He pleaded again and again, and Henry of Lancaster began so far toappear his friend, that Isabel took alarm. The Pope refused her requestthat Thomas of Lancaster should be canonized as a saint and martyr, andshe feared that he might even interfere on the King's behalf, and obligeher to give up Mortimer, and return to her husband. 

Orleton had been sent on an embassy to the Papal court, but he was thereconsulted by the Queen whether the King should be allowed to live. Hisanswer was the ambiguous line: "Edwardum occidere nolite timere bonumest. " (Edward to kill be unwilling to fear it is good. )

Doubt, in such a case, is certain to end in evil. That the King shoulddie, was determined, and the charge of the unfortunate monarch wastherefore transferred to Maurice, Lord Berkeley, and to Sir JohnMaltravers. The latter set out with two men, named Ogle and Gurney, toescort the King from Kenilworth. At Bristol such demonstrations weremade in his favor, that, taking alarm, his keepers clad him in mean andscanty garments, and made him ride toward Corfe in the chilly Aprilnight, scoffing and jeering him; and when, in the morning, they pausedto arrange their dress, they set a crown of hay in derision on his head, and brought him, in an old helmet, filthy ditch-water to shave with. With a shower of tears he strove to smile, saying that, in spite ofthem, his cheeks were covered with pure warm water enough. They broughthim to Berkeley Castle, on the Severn, and there, it is said, tried topoison him; but his strength of constitution resisted the potion, anddid not fail, under confinement or insufficient diet. At last, whenBerkeley was ill, and absent, came the night, "When Severn should re-echo with affright The sounds of death through Berkeley's roofs that ring, Shrieks of an agonizing king. "

At those cries many a countryman awoke, crossed himself, and prayed asfor a soul departing in torment. Seven months after his deposition, Edward of Caernarvon lay dead in Berkeley Castle, and the gates werethrown open, and the chief burghers of Bristol admitted to see hiscorpse. No sign of violence was visible, but the features, once sobeautiful, were writhed into such a look of agony, that the citizenscame away awed and horrified; and hearing the villagers speak of thecries that had rung from the walls the night before, felt certain thatthe late King had perished by a strange and frightful murder. 

But those were no days for inquiry, and the royal corpse was hastilyborne to Gloucester Abbey Church, and there buried. The impression, however, could not be forgotten; multitudes flocked to pray at theshrine of the dead sovereign, whom living no one would befriend: andsuch offerings were made at his tomb, that the monks raised a beautifulnew south aisle to the church; nay, they could have built the churchover again with the means thus acquired. A monument was raised over hisgrave, and his effigy was carved on it--a robed and crowned figure, withhands meekly folded, and a face of such exquisite, appealing sweetness, dignity, and melancholy, that it is hardly possible to look at itwithout tears, or to help believing that even thus might Edward havelooked when, in all the nobleness of patience, he stood forgiving hispersecutors, as they crowned him in scorn with grass, and derided hismisfortunes. A weak and frivolous man, cruelly sinned against, Edward ofCaernarvon was laid in his untimely grave in the forty-third year of hisage. 

Thus ended the Barons' Wars, no patriotic resistance of an oppositionwho used sword and lance instead of the tongue and the pen, but thefactious jealousy of men who became ferocious in their hatred offavoritism. 

 CAMEO XLI. 

 GOOD KING ROBERT'S TESTAMENT. (1314-1329. )

 _Kings of England_. 1307. Edward II. 1327. Edward III. 1322. Charles IV. 

 _King of Scotland_. 1306. Robert I. 

 _King of France_. 1314. Louis X. 1316. Philippe V. 

 _Emperor of Germany_. 1314. Louis V. 

 _Popes_. 1305. Clement V. 1316. John XXII. 

As England waxed feebler, Scotland waxed stronger and became aggressive. Robert's queen was dead, and he married Elizabeth, daughter of the Earlof Ulster, thus making his brother Edward doubtful whether the Scottishcrown would descend to him, and anxious to secure a kingdom for himself. 

Ireland had not been reconciled in two centuries to the domination ofthe Plantagenets. The Erse, or Irish, believed themselves brethren ofthe Scots, and in all their wanderings and distresses the Bruces hadfound shelter, sympathy, and aid in the wild province of Ulster. Itseemed, therefore, to Edward Bruce a promising enterprise to offer theIrish chieftains deliverance from the English yoke; and they eagerlyresponded to his proposal. In 1314, he crossed the sea with a smallforce, before any one was ready for him, and was obliged at once toreturn, having thus given the alarm; so that Sir Edward Butler, the LordDeputy, hurried to the defence, and had mustered his forces by the timeEdward Bruce arrived, the next spring, with 6, 000 men. He was actuallycrowned King, and laid siege to Carrickfergus, while the wild chieftainsof Connaught broke into the English settlements, and did great mischief, till they were defeated at Athenry by the Earl of Ulster's brother andSir Richard Bermingham. After the battle, Sir Richard Bermingham sentout his page, John Hussy, with a single attendant, to "turn up andperuse" the bodies, to see whether his mortal foe O'Kelly were amongthem. O'Kelly presently started out of a bush where he had been hidden, and thus addressed the youth: "Hussy, thou seest I am at all pointsarmed, and have my esquire, a manly man, beside me. Thou art thin, anda youngling; so that, if I loved thee not for thine own sake, I mightbetray thee for thy master's. But come and serve me at my request, and Ipromise thee, by St. Patrick's staff, to make thee a lord in Connaughtof more ground than thy master hath in Ireland. " Hussy treated the offerwith scorn, whereupon his attendant, "a stout lubber, began to reprovehim for not relenting to so rich a proffer. " Hussy's answer was, to cutdown the knave; next, "he raught to O'Kelly's squire a great rap underthe pit of the ear, which overthrew him; thirdly, he bestirred himselfso nimbly, that ere any help could be hoped for, he had also slainO'Kelly, and perceiving breath in the squire, he drawed him up again, and forced him upon a truncheon to bear his lord's head into the hightown. "

These notable exploits were rewarded by knighthood and the lordship ofGaltrim. 

Robert Bruce brought a considerable army to the assistance of hisbrother, and wasted the country up to the walls of Dublin; but RogerMortimer coming to the relief of the city, he was forced to retreat. Itwas a horrible devastation that he made, and yet this was only what wasthen supposed to be the necessity of war, for it was while burning manya homestead, and reducing multitudes to perish with famine, that Brucehalted his whole army to protect one sick and suffering washerwoman. 

 "This was a full great courtesy, That swilk a king and so mighty Gert his men dwell on this manner But for a poor lavender. "

Bruce was one of the many men tender to the friend, ruthless to the foe;merciful to sufferings he beheld, merciless to those out of his sight. He returned to Scotland, and Mortimer to England, both leaving horriblehunger and distress behind them, and Mortimer in debt £1, 000 to the cityof Dublin, "whereof he payde not one smulkin, and many a bitter curse hecarried with him beyond sea. "

Edward Bruce continued to reign in Ulster until the 5th of October, 1318, when the last and nineteenth battle was fought between him and theEnglish, contrary to the advice of his wisest captains. His numbers werevery inferior, and almost the whole were slain. Edward Bruce and SirJohn Malpas, an English knight, were found lying one upon the other, slain by each other's hands in the deadly conflict. Robert, who was onthe way to bring reinforcements to his brother, turned back on hearingthe tidings, and employed his forces against his old foe, John ofLorn, in the Western Isles, and it was on this occasion that, to avoiddoubling the Mull of Cantire, he dragged his ships upon a wooden slideacross the neck of land between the two locks of Tarbut--a feat oftenperformed by the fishermen, and easy with the small galleys of hisfleet, but which had a great effect on the minds of the Islemen, forthere was an old saying--

 "That he should gar shippes sua Betwixt those seas with sailis gae Should win the Islis sua till hand, That nane with strength should him withstand. "

Accordingly they submitted, and Lorn, being taken, was shut up for lifein Lochleven Castle. 

It was about the time of Edward Bruce's wild reign in Ulster that DublinUniversity was founded by Archbishop Bigmore; and in contrast to thisadvance in learning, a few years later, a horrible and barbarous warfareraged, because Lord de la Poer was supposed to have insulted Maurice ofDesmond by calling him a rhymer. Moreover, at Kilkenny, a lady, calledDame Alice Kettle, was cited before the Bishop of Ossory for witchcraft. It was alleged that she had a familiar spirit, to whom she was wont tosacrifice nine red cocks, and nine peacocks' eyes; that she had a staff"on which she ambled through thick and thin;" and that between complineand twilight she was wont to sweep the streets, singing, "To the house of William, my son, Hie all the wealth of Kilkenny town. "

She was acquitted on the charge of witchcraft, but her enemies nextattacked her on the ground of heresy, and succeeded in accomplishing herdeath. 

The Pope at Avignon assisted the English cause by keeping Bruce and hiskingdom under an interdict; but the Scots continued to make inroadson England, and year after year the most frightful devastation wascommitted. In 1319, the Archbishop of York, hoping for another Battle ofthe Standard, collected all his clergy and their tenants, and ledthem against Douglas and Randolph at Mitton; but their efforts wereunavailing, and such multitudes were slain, that the field was coveredwith the white surplices they wore over their armor, and the combat wascalled the Chapter of Mitton. 

For many long years were the northern provinces the constant prey ofthe Scots, as the discords of the English laid their country open toinvasion. Bruce himself was indeed losing his strength, the leprosycontracted during his life of wandering and distress was gaining groundon his constitution, and unnerving his strong limbs; but Douglas andRandolph gallantly supplied his place at the head of his armies, andhis affairs were everywhere prospering. He had indeed lost his eldestdaughter Marjorie, but she had left a promising son, Robert Stuart; andto himself a son had likewise been born, named David, after the royalSaint of Scotland, and so handsome and thriving a child, that it wasaugured that he would be a warrior of high prowess. 

Rome was induced, in 1323, to acknowledge Robert as King, on his promiseto go on a crusade to recover the Holy Land--a promise he was littlelikely to be in a condition to fulfil; and Edward II began to enter intonegotiations, and make proposals, that disputes should be set aside bythe betrothal of the little David and his youngest daughter, Joan. Butthese arrangements were broken off by the rebellion of Isabel, and thedeposition of Edward of Caernarvon; and Bruce sent Douglas and Randolphto make a fresh attack upon Durham and Northumberland. The wild armywere all on horseback; the knights and squires on tolerable steeds, thepoorer sort on rough Galloways. They needed no forage for their animalssave the grass beneath their feet, no food for themselves except thecattle which they seized, and whose flesh they boiled in their hides. Failing these, each man had a bag of oatmeal, and a plate of metal onwhich he could bake his griddle-cakes. This was their only baggage; trueto the Lindsay motto, the stars were their only tents: and thus theyflashed from one county to another, doing infinite mischief, and thedread of every one. 

While young Edward III was being crowned, they had well-nigh seized theCastle of Norham. The tidings filled the boy with fire and indignation. He was none of the meek, indifferent stock that the Planta Genistasometimes bore, but all the resolution and brilliancy of the line haddescended on him in full measure, and all the sweetness and courtesy, together with all the pride and ambition of his race, shone in his blueeye, and animated his noble and gracious figure. He was well-read inchivalrous tales, and it was time that he should perform deeds of armsworthy of his ladye-love, the flaxen-haired Philippa of Hainault. 

Strange was the contrast of the pure, ardent spirit, with the scenes ofshame and disgrace of which he was as yet unconscious. He knew not thathe was a usurper--that one parent was perishing in a horrible captivity, the other holding himself and his kingdom in shameful trammels, andgiving them over into the power of her traitorous lover. 

But Edward was sixteen, and Isabel and Mortimer could only hope tocontinue their dominion by keeping him at a distance; and he wastherefore placed at the head of a considerable army, with Sir John ofHainault as his adviser, and sent forth to deliver his country from theScots. 

Good Sir John of Hainault, accustomed to prick his heavy Flemishwar-horse over the Belgian undulating plains, that Nature would seemto have designed for fair battle-fields, was no match for the lighthorsemen of the Scots, trained to wild, desultory warfare. He and hisyoung King thought the respectable way of fighting was for one side towait civilly for the other, interchange polite defiances on either side, take no advantage of ground, but ride fairly at each other with pennonsflying and trumpets sounding, like a tournament; and they did not at allapprove of enemies of whom they saw no trace but a little distant smokein the horizon, and black embers of villages wherever they marched. There was no coming up with them. The barons set forth in the morning, fierce, and wound up for a battle, pennons displayed, and armorburnished; but by and by the steeds floundered in the peat-bogs, thesteep mountain-sides were hard to climb for men and horses cased inproof armor, and when shouts or cries broke out at a distance, and withsore labor the knights struggled to the spot in hopes of an engagement, it proved to have been merely the hallooing of some other part of thearmy at the wild deer that bounded away from the martial array. When, atnight, they reached the banks of the Tyne, and had made their way acrossthe ford, they found themselves in evil case, for all their baggageand provisions were far behind, stuck in the bogs, or stumbling up themountain-sides, and they had nothing to eat but a single loaf, whicheach man had carried strapped behind him, and which had a taste of allthe various peat-bogs into which he had sunk. The horses had nothing toeat, and there was nothing to fasten them to, so that their masters wereforced to spend the whole night holding them by the bridles. They hopedfor better things at dawn, but with it came rain, which swelled theriver so much that none of the foot or baggage could hope to cross, nor, indeed, could any messenger return to find out where they were. Thegentlemen were forced to set to work with their swords to cut down greenboughs to weave into huts, and to seek for grass and leaves for theirhorses. By and by came some peasants, who told them they were fourteenmiles from Newcastle and eleven from Carlisle, and no provisions couldbe obtained any nearer. Messengers were instantly sent off, promisingsafety and large prices to any one who would bring victuals to thefamishing camp, and the burghers of Newcastle and Carlisle seem to havereaped a rich harvest, by sending a moderate supply of bread and wineat exorbitant prices. For a whole week of rain did the army continue inthis disconsolate position, without tents, fire, or candle, and withperpetual rain, till the saddles and girths were rotted, the horseswasted to skeletons, and the army, with rusted mail and draggled bannersand plumes, a dismal contrast to the gay troops who had lately setforth. 

After waiting a week, fancying the Scots must pass the ford, they gaveup this hope, and resolved to re-cross higher up. Edward set forth aproclamation, that the man who should lead him where he could cope ondry ground with the Scots, should be knighted by his own hand, andreceive a hundred pounds a year in land. Fifteen gentlemen, thusincited, galloped off in quest of the enemy, and one of them, an esquirenamed Thomas Rokeby, who made toward Weardale, not only beheld the Scotsencamped on the steep hill-side sloping toward the Wear, but was seizedby their outposts, and led before Douglas. Sir James was in aposition where he had no objection to see King Edward, with a naturalfortification of rocks on his flanks, a mountain behind, and the riverfoaming in a swollen torrent over the rocks in the ravine in front ofhim. So, when Rokeby had told his tale, Douglas gave him his ransomand liberty, on the sole condition that he should not rest till he hadbrought the tidings to the King--terms which he was not slow to fulfil. He found the English army on the Derwent, at the ruined Augustinianmonastery of Blanchland; and, highly delighted, Edward gave the promisedreward, and the army prepared for a battle by confession and hearingmass. Then all set forth in high spirits, and came to the spot, wherethey were so close to the enemy that they could see the arms on theshields of the nobles, and the red, hairy buskins of the ruder sort, shaped from the hides of the cattle they had killed. 

Edward made his men dismount, thinking to cross the river; but, onexamination, he found this impossible. He then sent an invitation to theScottish leaders to come out and have a fair fight; but at this theylaughed, saying that they had burnt and spoiled in his land, and it washis part to punish them as he could; they should stay there as long asthey pleased. As it was known that there was neither bread nor wine intheir camp, it was hoped that this would not be very long; but from themerriment nightly heard round the watchfires, it seemed that oatmealand beef satisfied them just as well, and the English were far moremiserable in their position. 

On the third night, though the fires blazed and the horns resounded atmidnight, by dawn nothing was to be seen but the bare, gray hill-side. The Scots had made off during the night, and were presently discoveredperched in a similar spot on the river side, only with a wood behindthem, called Stanhope Park. 

Again Edward encamped on the other side of the river, and watched thefoe in vain. One night, however, Douglas, with a small body of men, crept across the river at a ford higher up, and stealing to theprecincts of the camp, rode past the sentry, crying out in an Englishtone, "Ha, St. George! no watch here!" and made his way into the midstof the tents, smiling to himself at the murmur of an English soldier, that the Black Douglas might yet play them some trick. Presently, withloud shouts of "Douglas! Douglas! English thieves, ye shall die!" hismen fell on the sleeping army, and had slain three hundred in a veryshort time, while he made his way to the royal tent, cut the ropes, and as the boy, "a soldier then for holidays, " awoke, "by his couch, a grisly chamberlain, " stood the Black Lord James! His chaplain threwhimself between, and fell in the struggle, while Edward crept out underthe canvas, and others of the household came to his rescue. The wholearmy was now awakened, and Douglas fought his way out on the otherside of the camp, blowing his horn to collect his men. On his return, Randolph asked him what he had done. "Only drawn a little blood, " saidDouglas. 

"Ah!" said Randolph, "we should have gone down with the whole army. "

"The risk would have been over-great, " said Douglas. 

"Then must we fight them, by open day, for our provisions are failing, and we shall soon be famished. "

"Nay, " said Sir James, "let us treat them as the fox did the fisherman, who, finding him eating a salmon before the fire in his hut, drew hissword, and stood in the doorway, meaning to slay him without escape. Butthe fox seized a mantle, and drew it over the fire; the fisherman flewto save his mantle, and Master Fox made off safely with the salmon bythe door unguarded!"

On this model the wary Scot arranged his retreat, making a multitude ofhurdles of wattled boughs to be laid across the softer places in the bogbehind them, and giving secret orders that all should be ready to moveat night. This could not be done so secretly that some tidings did notreach the English; but they expected another night-attack, and, thoughthey continued under arms, made no attempt to ascertain the proceedingsof the enemy till daybreak, when, crossing the river, they found nothingalive but five poor English prisoners bound naked to trees, with theirlegs broken. Around them lay five hundred large cattle, killed becausethey went too slowly to be driven along, three hundred skins filled withmeat and water hung over the fires, one hundred spits with meat onthem, and ten thousand of the hairy shoes of the Scots--the enemy wereentirely gone; and Edward, baffled, grieved, and ashamed, fairly burstinto tears at his disappointment. 

His army was unable to continue the pursuit, and in two days arrived atDurham, where the honest burghers had stored under outhouses all thewagons that had been left behind in the advance thirty-two days before, each with a little flag to show whose property it was. Tidings beingbrought that the Scots had gone to their own country, Edward turnedhis face southward, and, by the time he reached York, had had themortification of losing all his horses, from the privations the poorcreatures had undergone; while the discontent of his subjects foundvent in ascribing all the misfortunes to Roger Mortimer's treachery--anadditional crime of which he may fairly be acquitted. Edward continuedat York all that autumn, apparently keeping aloof from his mother'scourt; or else it was her object to prevent him from perceiving theguilty counsels that there prevailed, and which resulted in the murderof his father. To York Sir John of Hainault fetched the young bride, his niece Philippa, and the marriage took place in the cathedral on St. Paul's Day, 1328, the two young people being then sixteen and fifteenyears of age. Meantime, Robert Bruce, partially recovering, laid siegeto Norham, and in the exhausted state of England it was decided to offerhim peace, fully acknowledging his right to the throne, yielding up theregalia and the royal stone of Scotland, and uniting his son David withthe little Princess Joan. 

The nation were exceedingly angry at the peace, necessary as it was, andcharged the disgrace upon Mortimer. They rose in tumult, and preventedthe coronation-stone from being taken away, and they called the marriagea base alliance. Even Edward himself refused to be present with hisyoung wife at the marriage of his little sister, which was to take placeat Berwick. His mother tried to induce him to come, by arranging ajoust; she had six spears painted splendidly for his use, others forhis companions, and three hundred and sixty more for other Englishgentlemen; but he was resolved to keep his Philippa aloof from thecompany of Mortimer and his mother, and remained with her at Woodstock, notwithstanding all temptations to display. 

Bruce was too ill to go to Berwick, but gave his son, then five yearsold, into the charge of Douglas and Randolph. The little bride, calledby the Scots Joan Makepeace, was conducted by her mother and Mortimerwith the most brilliant pomp. 

Mortimer's display and presumption outdid even poor Piers Gaveston: hehad one hundred and eighty knights in his own train alone, and theirdress was so fantastically gay that the Scots jested on them, and maderhymes long current in the North:

 "Longbeards, heartless, Gay coats, graceless, Painted hoods, witless, Maketh England thriftless. "

Queen Isabel herself was wont to wear such a tower on her head, thatdoorways had to be altered to enable her to pass under them; and herexpenses were so great, that no revenue was left to maintain her youngdaughter-in-law Philippa. 

Henry, sometimes called Wryneck, Earl of Derby, brother of the rebelThomas of Lancaster, and Thomas and Edmund, Earls of Norfolk and Kent, the youngest sons of Edward I. , had begun bitterly to repent of havingbeen deceived by this wicked woman. Even Adam Orleton had quarrelledwith her for attempting to exact a monstrous bribe for making him Bishopof Winchester; but Mortimer was determined to keep up his power byviolence. At a parliament at Salisbury, where the young King and Queenwere presiding, he broke in with his armed followers, and carried themoff in a sort of captivity to Winchester. The three Earls took up arms, but the Earls of Kent and Norfolk, who seem to have had their full shareof the family folly, deserted Lancaster, and he was forced to makepeace, after paying an immense fine. 

Still Isabel and Mortimer felt their insecurity, or else they had suchan appetite for treachery and murder, that they were driven on to commitfurther crimes. A report was set about that Edward of Caernarvonwas still living in Corfe Castle, and one of his actual murderers, Maltravers, offered the unfortunate Edmund of Kent to convey lettersfrom him to his brother; nay, it was arranged, for his furtherdeception, that he should peep into a dungeon and behold at a distance acaptive, who had sufficient resemblance to the late King to be mistakenfor him in the gloom. Letters were written by the Earl and his wife tothe imaginary prisoner, and entrusted to Maltravers, who carried themat once to Queen Isabel. A sufficient body of evidence having thus beenprocured for her purposes, the unfortunate Edmund was arraigned beforethe parliament at Winchester, when he confessed that the letters hadbeen written by himself; and, further, that a preaching friar hadconjured up a spirit on whose authority he believed his brother to bealive. He was found guilty of treason, and sentenced to death by personswho expected that his rank would save him; but the She-wolf of Francewas resolved on having his blood, and decreed that he should die thenext day. Such was the horror at the sentence, that the headsman stolesecretly away from Winchester to avoid performing his office, and forfour long hours of the 13th of March, 1329, did Earl Edmund Plantagenetstand on the scaffold above the castle gate, waiting till some one couldbe found to put him to death, in the name of his own nephew and by thewill of his mother's niece. He was only twenty-eight, and had fourlittle children; and, in those dreary hours, what must not have been hishopes that the young Edward would awaken to a sense of the wickednessthat was being perpetrated, so abhorrent to his warm and generousnature! But hopes were vain. Queen Isabel "kept her son so beset" allday, that no word could be spoken to him respecting his uncle, and atlength a felon was sought out, who, as the price of his own pardon, dealt the death-stroke to the son of the great Edward. 

After this act of intimidation, Mortimer's insolence went still farther, and England was fully sensible that the minion now reigning unitedall the faults of the former ones--the extravagance and rapacity ofGaveston, and the pride and violence of the Despensers; and as if tobring upon himself their very fate, he caused himself to be appointedWarden of the Marches of Wales, and helped himself to manor after manorof the Despenser property. His name and lineage were Welsh, and inmemory of King Arthur he held tournaments which he called Round Tables, and made this display so frequent, that his own son Geoffrey becameashamed of them, and called him the King of Folly. 

Meantime, the modest and innocent young court at Woodstock was madehappy by the birth of the heir to the crown--a babe of such promise andbeauty that even grave chroniclers pause to record his noble aspect, andthe motherly fondness of the youthful Philippa, then only seventeen. Again Queen Isabel was obliged to trust her son out of the hands ofherself and her minions. Her last brother, King Charles IV. , was dead, leaving only daughters; and though she fancied the claim of her sonEdward to the French crown to be nearer than that of Philippe, Count ofValois, the son of her father's brother, it was not convenient to pressthe assumption, and it was therefore resolved that young Edward shouldgo to Amiens to perform his homage to Philippe. He was only fifteen daysabsent from England, and duly swore fealty to Philippe; the one robed inblue velvet and golden lilies, the other in crimson velvet worked withthe English lions; but the pageant was a worthless ceremony, and thejourney was chiefly important as bringing him to a full sense of theesteem in which his mother was held at home and abroad. Edward wasnearly nineteen, and was resolved that he and his country should be heldin unworthy bondage no longer. He confided his plans to Sir WilliamMontacute, and they agreed to bring about the downfall of Mortimer atthe next parliament, which was summoned to meet at Nottingham. 

So suspicious were the Queen and her favorite, that they always travelledwith a strong guard, and, on entering Nottingham Castle, the locks onall the gates were changed, and the keys were every night brought to theQueen, who hid them under her pillow. Edward himself was admitted, butwith only four attendants; and the Earls of Lancaster and Hereford werenot even allowed to lodge their followers in the town, but with insolentwords were quartered a mile off, to their own great discontent and thatof the country-folk. 

Montacute meanwhile held counsel with Sir Robert Eland, the governor ofthe castle, who told him that far without the walls lay a cave, whencea subterraneous gallery led into the keep of Nottingham Castle. It wasbelieved to have been made for a means of escape in the days of Danishinroads, and it was still practicable to lead a body of men through it. Montacute undertook the enterprise on the 19th of October, 1330. Whetherthe King crept through the passage, or only joined Montacute after heemerged on the stairs, is not certain; but together, and with a troopof armed men behind them, they broke into the room where Mortimer wasconsulting with the Earl of Lincoln, and seized upon his person. TheQueen, nearly undressed, hurried out of the next room, and Edward stoodbehind the door, that she might not see him; but she guessed that hewas present, and cried out piteously, "Fair son, have pity on gentleMortimer!" Her cries were unheeded, and Mortimer was, in the earlymorning, sent off to the Tower of London, while all Nottingham rang withshouts of joy. 

Edward broke up the parliament, and summoned a new one to meet atWestminster, where he called Mortimer to account for a tissue of suchhorrible crimes that one alone would have secured his condemnation. ThePeers were asked what his sentence should be, and they all answered thathe ought to die like his victim, Hugh le Despenser, who had not had amoment to speak in his own defence. Perhaps Edward dreaded to hear hismother's crimes disclosed, for he forbade the confession to be madeknown of two of the accomplices in his father's murder, and causedMortimer to die a traitor's death at once at Tyburn--the inauguratingexecution at that melancholy spot. This hasty sentence stood Mortimer'sfamily in good stead; for, as there was no sentence of attainder, theycontinued to hold the earldom of March. Edward little thought that thegrandson of his father's murderer would become the heir to his ownthrone. 

The Pope wrote to Edward to intercede with him for his mother, but theexhortation was hardly needed, for he showed the most delicate andfilial respect throughout for her name, and what truth and necessitycompelled him to declare against her, he charged on the evil influenceof Mortimer. Her grief and despair threw her into an absolute fit ofmadness at the time of Mortimer's execution, and she continued subjectto fits of distraction for many years after. She was shut up in RisingsCastle, and respectfully attended upon by a sufficient train; her sonvisited her from time to time, but she never saw any others of herfamily; and when, after twenty-eight years, she died, she chose to beburied in the church of the Gray Friars, at Newgate, where lay theremains of Mortimer. 

While these events were taking place in England, one of the greatspirits of the time was passing away at Cardross, in Scotland. Robertthe Bruce lay on his death-bed, and, calling for his nobles, bade themswear fealty to his infant son, and appointed Randolph, Earl of Moray, as regent for the child; for Sir James Douglas he reserved a yet dearer, closer charge. Long ago, as he lay on his bed at Rachrin, had he vowedto go on pilgrimage to Jerusalem; but before he had given rest to hiscountry, the deadly sickness had seized on him which was cutting him offin his fifty-fifth year. He therefore entreated that Douglas would carryhis heart, to fulfil his vow, instead of himself, and that, making hisway to Jerusalem, he would lay it finally in the Holy Sepulchre. 

Weeping so that he could hardly speak, Sir James thanked his master forthe inestimable honor, and vowed, on his faith as a knight, to do hisbidding. Robert likewise gave his nobles a set of counsels for thedefence of his kingdom, showing how truly he estimated its resources andmethod of warfare; for it is said that no reverse ever afterward befellthe Scots but by their disregard of what they called "Good King Robert'sTestament"--precepts he had obeyed all his life, and which stood nearlythus in old Scottish:

 "On foot should be all Scottish war, By hill and moss themselves to ware; Let woods for walls be; bow and spear And battle-axe their fighting gear: That enemies do them na dreir, In strait places gar keep all store, And burn the plain land them before: Then shall they pass away in haste, When that they find nothing but waste; With wiles and wakening of the night. And mickle noise made on height; Then shall they turn with great affray, As they were chased with sword away. This is the counsel and intent Of Good King Robert's Testament. "

With these fierce, though sagacious counsels, the hero of Scotland diedon the 7th of June, 1329. He was buried in Dunfermline Abbey, after hisheart had been extracted and embalmed according to his command; but thedissolution of the convents made sad havoc among the royal tombs ofScotland, and two churches had risen and fallen above his marble tombbefore it was discovered among the ruins in 1819, and his remains werefound in a winding-sheet of cloth of gold, and the breastbone sawnthrough. Multitudes were admitted to gaze on them, and there were manytears shed, for, in the simple and beautiful words of Scott, "There wasthe wasted skull which once was the head that thought so wisely andboldly for his country's deliverance; and there was the dry bone whichhad once been the sturdy arm that killed Sir Henry de Bohun betweenthe two armies at a single blow, the evening before the battle ofBannockburn. "

The Bruce's heart was enclosed in a silver case, and hung round the neckof Douglas, who sailed at once on his pilgrimage, taking with him aretinue befitting the royal treasure that he bore. But on his wayhe landed in Spain, and esteeming that any war with any Saracen wasagreeable to his vow, he offered his aid to King Alfonso, of Castile. But he was ignorant of the Moorish mode of fighting, and, riding toofar in advance with his little band, was inclosed and cut off by thewheeling horsemen of the Moors. Still he might have escaped, had he notturned to rescue Sir William St. Clair, of Roslyn; but in doing this hewas so entangled, that he saw no escape, and taking from his neck hisprecious charge, he threw it before him, shouting aloud, "Pass onward asthou wert wont! I follow, or die!" He followed, and died. His corpsewas found on the battle-field lying over the heart of Bruce, and hisfriends, lifting up the body, bore it back again to his own littlechurch of St. Bride of Douglas, where it lies interred; while thecrowned and bleeding heart shines emblazoned on the shield of the greatDouglas line, a memorial of the time and hearty love that knit together, through adversity and prosperity, the good King Robert and the good LordJames. The heart itself was given into the charge of Sir Simon Locard, of Lee, already the keeper of the curious talisman called the Lee Penny, brought by Earl David of Huntingdon from the East; but he did not deemit needful to carry his burthen to Jerusalem, and it was buried beneaththe altar at Melrose Abbey, Sir Simon changed his name to Lockhart, andbore on his shield a heart with a fetterlock, on his crest a hand with akey, and for his motto, "_Corda serrata pando. _"

Here, then, we close the first series of Cameos, during which we haveseen the Norman conquerors gradually become English, and the kingdomtake somewhat of its present form. In another volume we hope to show thelong wars of the Middle Ages. 

INDEX. 

Acre, the siege of, Prince Edward there, its final conquest by the Saracens, Adela, William the Conqueror's daughter, married to Stephen of Blois, Adrian IV. , Pope, Nicholas Brakespeare, an Englishman, his grant of Ireland to Henry II. , Aelred, Abbot of Rivaux, his visit to King David of Scotland, death, Agatha, wife of Edward the Etheling, Alain Fergeant, married to William the Conqueror's daughter Constance, Alberic, friend of Robert Courtheuse, Albigenses, the war against, led by Simon de Montfort, Aldred, Archbishop of York, consecrates Bishop Wulstan, dies of grief, Alexander III. , Pope, his support of Becket, Alexander III. , of Scotland, at the coronation of Edward I. , his character, his shocking death, troubles in Scotland after this, Alexis Comnenus, Greek Emperor, his conduct to the crusaders, Alfonso I. Of Castile, William the Conqueror's daughter Matilda promised to, Alfred, Archbishop of York, crowns Harold king of England, Alfred Atheling, son of Ethelred the Unready, his expedition against Harold Harefoot, his murder, Alftrude, tradition of Hereward's love for, Algar, son of Earl Leofric, Alice of France, Richard Coeur de Lion bethrothed to, disputes about this, Alice of Louvain, second wife of Henry I. Married secondly to William de Albini, Almayne, Henry of, son of Richard king of the Romans, joins the last crusade, his murder by the De Montforts, punishment of his murderers, Anjou, history of the Counts of, loss of, by the English to Philippe Auguste, Anjou, Charles, Comte d', joins the crusade of Louis IX, seizes the crown of the Two Sicilies, his conduct in the last crusade, at the death of Louis IX. , Prince Edward's reply to him, Anselm, Archbishop: Bishop Wulstan assists at his consecration, his birth and parentage, enters the Abbey of Bec, the Archbishopric of Canterbury forced upon him, his collision with William Rufus, banished for life, returns on the death of Rufus, disputes with Henry I. , again banished, his return, death and character, Ansgard, Alderman, his conference with William the Conqueror, Antioch, siege of, in the first crusade, Apulia, the Normans in, Aquitaine, acquired by Henry II's marriage with Eleanor, account of the duchy of, Arnulf, Count of Flanders, the foe of William Longsword, makes war against Richard the Fearless, Richard's generosity to him, Arques, Count d', his conspiracy against William the Conqueror, Arthur, King: history of his round table at Winchester, Arthur of Brittany, the joy at his birth, Richard I. Acknowledges him heir, his residence at the court of Philippe Auguste, at the siege of Mirabeau, taken prisoner by King John, the parley between them, John's attempted cruelty, his murder by John, avenged by Philippe Auguste, Artois, Robert, Comte d', joins the crusade of Louis IX. , insults Longespée, his impetuous character, killed at Mansourah, Ascalon, the crusaders at, Atheling, _vide_ Etheling. Augustine, his dispute with the Welsh Church, Auvergne, Guy of, his cruel treatment and death, Avignon, the papal court removed to, Ayr, story of the barns of, Bacon, Roger, account of, Baldwin, Archbishop of Canterbury, Baldwin, Count of Flanders, William the Conqueror's overtures to, Baldwin I. King of Jerusalem, Baldwin II. King of Jerusalem, Balliol, John, lays claim to the crown of Scotland, declared king, treated as a vassal by Edward I. , humiliation of, and subsequent career, Bangor, slaughter of the monks of, Bannockburn, battle of, its results, Bards, the, account of, Barons, the, assembly of, to adopt the charter, their revolt, their meeting with King John at Runnymede, their war with King John, offer the crown to Louis the Lion, their demands at the Parliament of Westminster, the meeting of, in the Mad Parliament, their dispute with Henry III. Referred to Louis IX. , refuse Louis IX. 's decision, their war with the king, their discontent with Montfort, their proceedings against Gaveston, against the Despensers, Batalha in Portugal, account of the Abbey of, Battle Abbey, history of, the roll of, unsatisfactory compared with Domesday Book, Bayeux tapestry, description of the, Bec, Lanfranc abbot of, Anselm there, Beck, Anthony, Bishop of Durham, Edward I. 's envoy to Balliol, Edward I. 's message to, Becket, Gilbert à, legend of, Becket, Thomas à, birth of, his character and splendor, appointed Archbishop of Canterbury, his humility, his quarrel with Henry II. On the privileges of the clergy, his reluctant consent to the Constitutions of Clarendon, the King's sentence against him, his acts at the Council of Northampton, his flight to the Continent, supported by the Pope, &c. , retires to Pontigny, conference with King Henry II. At Montmirail, at Montmartre, the King's submission, his return to Canterbury, events of his martyrdom, fate of his murderers, his canonization, general honor paid to him, pilgrimages to his shrine, its spoliation by Henry VIII, summary of his character, Benefit of clergy, meaning of, Berengaria, Richard I. 's attachment to, their marriage, her death, Bernard, Count of Harcourt, the friend of William Longsword, his support of Richard the Fearless, Bertrade, marries Foulques IV. Of Anjou, leaves him for Philippe I. , Bertram de Born, the troubadour, laments Queen Eleanor's imprisonment, affronted by Richard I. , his interview with Henry II. , his laments for Richard I. , his death, Dante's mention of him in the "Inferno, "Berwick, Edward I. 's cruelty at, Bigod, Roger, Earl of Norfolk, his answers to Henry III. , his opposition to the exactions of Edward I. , Binning, his capture at Linlithgow, Bishops, dispute between King and Pope respecting the election of, Blanche of Castile, her marriage to Louis the Lion, death of, Blondel, discovers Richard I. In captivity, Blondeville, Ranulf de, his marriage to Constance of Brittany, Boemond, joins the first crusade, his conduct at the siege of Antioch, Bohun, Humphrey, Earl of Hereford, his opposition to Edward I. , his success and high character, Bohun, Sir H. , his encounter with King Robert Bruce, Boniface VIII. , Pope, opposes Edward I. 's exactions on the clergy, death of, Border warfare with the Scots, Bosham, Herbert de, the friend of Archbishop Becket, Brand, Abbot of Peterborough, confers knighthood on Hereward, Braose, William de, King John's cruelties to, Bretons, their joy at the birth of Prince Arthur, their enmity to Richard I. , Brien Boru, King of Ireland, Brihtric Meau, Queen Matilda's love for, her vengeance on his disdain, Brito, William, murderer of Becket, his armorial bearings, Britons, the, after the departure of the Romans, Bruce, the line of, history of, troubles of Scotland under, Bruce, Edward, besieges Stirling Castle, commands a division at Bannockburn, his invasion of Ireland, death, Bruce, Robert, lays claim to the crown of Scotland, Bruce, Robert, the younger, joins Wallace, lives in allegiance to Edward I. , Bruce, Robert III. , vacillation of his early conduct, his murder of the Red Comyn; revolts against Edward I. ; coronation at Scone; his excommunication; his disaster at Methven; wanderings, and adventures; escape from the Lorns; defeats Aymer de Valence; his progress in the recovery of Scotland; his preparations to meet Edward II. ; encounter with Sir Henry Bohun; his victory at Bannockburn; his invasion of Ireland; inroads upon England; recognised by the Pope; his right to the throne acknowledged by England; his dying injunctions and death; fate of his heart. Bruce, William, resigns the charge of Prince Arthur. Bungay, Friar, the associate of Friar Bacon. Burgh, Hubert de, governor of Prince Arthur; taken prisoner by the French; his defence of Dover; defeats the French fleet; his care of the minority of Henry III. ; machinations against him; his imprisonment and escape; subsequent history. Burnel, Robert, Bishop, Edward I. 's chancellor. Bury St. Edmund's, assembly of the Barons at. 

Cadwallader, the last of the Pendragons. Caen, the two abbeys founded at, by William the Conqueror and Matilda; Abbaye aux Dames at, William the Conqueror's eldest daughter becomes Abbess of; William the Conqueror buried at. Camp of refuge established in the Isle of Ely; the principal fugitives there; attacks on, by William the Conqueror; betrayed by the monks of Ely; cruelty to the captives taken there. Canterbury and York, jealousy between. Canterbury Cathedral, murder of Becket at; Henry II. Does penance in; Becket's shrine at. Capet, Hugh, succeeds to the throne of France; supported by Richard the Fearless; importance of his recognition. Cardinals, the, choice of the Pope vested in. Carthage, Louis IX. 's camp at; his sickness and death there. Cecily, William the Conqueror's eldest daughter, becomes Abbess of Caen. Châlons, Count de, his treachery to Edward I. Charlemagne, receives the crown of the Holy Roman Empire; degeneracy of his descendants; overcome by the Northmen; the race of, retire to Lorraine. Charles Martel, exploits of. Charles the Simple, King of France; his contests with Rollo; cedes Neustria to him; Rollo marries his daughter. Charles IV. , his conduct in Queen Isabel's quarrel with Edward II. Charter, the Great, adopted by the Barons; King John promises to grant it; his prevarication; its enactments; signed by John; annulled by Pope Innocent III. ; the war of the Barons to obtain it; Henry III. Made to agree to it; end of the wars about it; its acceptance by Henry III. ; renewal of, by the Barons, under Edward I. Chateau Gaillard, the siege of. Christina, daughter of Edward Etheling; retires to a convent; becomes Abbess of Wilton. Christianity, conversion of the early French kings to; acceptance of, by the Vikings. Church and State, struggles between, in the eleventh century; theory of; adjustment of the disputes between; further disputes. Church building in the early Norman days. Church patronage, quarrel of the Barons with Innocent IV. Respecting. Clapham, derivation of its name. Clare, Gilbert de, Earl of Gloucester, knighted by Montfort; secedes from the Barons; joins the last crusade; married to Joan of Acre, daughter of Edward I. ; death of. Clarendon, the Council and Constitutions of. Clement V. , Pope, character of; excommunicates Bruce; gives absolution to Gaveston; elected Pope by the influence of Philippe IV. ; gives up the Knights Templars to him; abolishes the Templars; his death. Clergy, the privileges of, Henry II. 's opposition to; Becket's support of. Clermont, council of, Peter the Hermit at. Coinage, the, Edward I. 's laws upon. Comyn, Earl of Durham, murder of, by the townsmen. Comyn the Red, his treachery to Robert Bruce; murdered by Bruce. Congé d'élire, origin of. Conrad, King of Burgundy, makes war upon Richard the Fearless. Conrade of Montferrat, his enmity to Richard I. ; made King of Jerusalem; his assassination. Constance, daughter of William the Conqueror, account of. Constance of Brittany, her marriage with Geoffrey Plantagenet; has the care of Prince Arthur; her second marriage; is seized and imprisoned; her death. Constantinople, Robert the Magnificent at, Harold Hardrada's adventures there, Cordova, Emir of, King John's embassy to, Cressingham, Hugh, chancellor to Edward I. , his expedition against Wallace, killed at the battle of Stirling, Crusades, the, remarks upon, the first led by Peter the Hermit, its disastrous end, followed by Godfrey de Bouillon and others, account of, the third account of, the last history of, the great abuse of them, Curfew bell, origin of, Cymry, the, original tribe of the Kelts, Cyprus, conquest of, by Richard Coeur de Lion, Damietta, the crusaders at, Danish conquest of England, effects of, David, Earl of Huntingdon, joins the third crusade, his adventures on his return home, David I. King of Scotland, a visitor of Henry I. , swears fealty to Maude, his character, invades England in favor of Maude, defeated at the battle of the Standard, his sorrows and death, De Courcy, Sir John, made governor of Ireland, his government there, made Earl of Ulster, treachery against him, his imprisonment, undertakes the championship of England, privilege granted to him and his descendants, Despensers, the, favorites of Edward II. , the Barons procure their banishment, their return, the King's bounty to them, their capture and execution, Des Roches, Guillaume, King John's promise to, respecting Prince Arthur, his remorse at the King's treachery, Des Roches, Peter, Bishop of Winchester, refuses to acknowledge the interdict, justiciary under Henry III. , his intrigue against Hubert de Burgh, causes the death of the Earl of Pembroke, his dismissal and death, Divine service, decrees for, at the Synod of Mertoun, Domesday book, account of, Donald Bane seizes the crown of Scotland, Douglas Castle, contests in its recovery and defence, Douglas, Sir James, his first meeting with Bruce, 391; his constant adherence, recovers his castle from the English, his capture of Roxburgh Castle, chivalrous conduct to Randolph, his exploits on the Border, Bruce's dying injunction to, carries Bruce's heart to Spain, his death there, Dover besieged by Louis the Lion, the siege raised, battle of, Dublin University, foundation of, Dunbar, battle of, Earl, derivation of title of, from the Danes, Edgar Atheling, son of Edward the Stranger, William the Conqueror's friendship for, account of him, proclaimed King of England, William the Conqueror's conduct to, efforts of Malcolm III. In his favor, renounces his claim to the crown of England, his subsequent career, his death and character, Edgar of Scotland restored to the throne, Edinburgh Castle captured from the English, Edith, wife of Edward the Confessor, character of, Edith of the Swan neck finds the body of Harold, Edith, daughter of Margaret of Scotland, marries Henry I. , changes her name to Matilda or Maude, See Maude. Ediva, mother of Hereward, Edmund Ironside, his two sons, Edward the Confessor, son of Ethelred the Unready, his gentle nurture in Normandy, comes to his brother's court in England, his character, &c. , why called the Confessor, instance of his gentleness, his Norman propensities, visited by Duke William of Normandy, founds Westminster Abbey, death and burial there, his desire to leave his crown to William of Normandy, conversation with Harold on his death-bed, William the Conqueror's friendship for, Henry III. 's devotion to, translation of his remains, Edward I. , his marriage to Eleanor of Castile, his character, his conduct in taking the oath to the acts of Oxford, his robbery of the Templars, conduct at the siege of Northampton and the battle of Lees, delivers himself up to the Barons, his escape from Herford, rescues his father at the battle of Evesham, joins Louis IX. In the last Crusade, his embarkation, arrives at Acre, attempted assassination there, returns to England, his tomb in Westminster Abbey, Coronation of, his treatment of the Jews his laws, parliaments, prosperity of the kingdom in the early part of his reign, respect shown him on the continent, account of his daughters, deterioration of his character in his later years, death of his Queen Eleanor; claims to be Lord paramount of Scotland; the claim acknowledged; invades Scotland; deposes Balliol and gets himself acknowledged King; his rage against Wallace; wins the battle of Falkirk; cruelty to Wallace; duped by Philippe IV. ; is distressed for funds; seizure of ecclesiastical property; imposes the "evil toll, "; marriage with Margaret of France; grants the right of taxation to his subjects; his vengeance on Abp. Winchelsea; rage at Bruce's revolt; his vow against the Scots; arrives at Carlisle; cruelty to Bruce's brothers; his last injunctions and death; his dread of Gaveston's influence over his son. Edward II. , appointed regent in his father's absence; ceremony of his knighthood; his appearance and character; influence of friends over him; his inordinate attachment to Piers Gaveston; neglects his father's injunctions respecting Scotland; his marriage to Isabel of France; the nobles demand Gaveston's dismissal; his coronation; disputes with his nobles respecting Gaveston; his expedition against Bruce; his defeat at Bannockburn; his attachment to the Despensers; discontent of his subjects; his queen's complaints against him; her invasion of England; his wanderings and capture; deposition; captivity and ill-treatment; his murder in Berkeley Castle; his monument in Gloucester Cathedral. Edward III. , his march to the Border; account of his warfare there; his narrow escape from Douglas; causes Mortimer's arrest and execution; his respectful conduct to Queen Isabel. Edward the Atheling, his infant son Edgar; his daughters;Edward, son of Edmund Ironside; his marriage; owned as Etheling. Edwin, grandson of Earl Leofric; enemy of Harold; submits to the conqueror; and is betrothed to his daughter Matilda; joins the Camp of Refuge; is killed in combat. Eghelemar, Bp. Of Elmham. Eghelsie, Bp. Of Selsey. Eghelwin. Bp. Of Durham, joins the Camp of Refuge; dies in captivity. Egypt, crusade in, under William Longespée the Elder; under Louis IX. . Eleanor of Aquitaine, married to Henry II. ; evils resulting from this; not the murderess of Fair Rosamond; kept in captivity by her husband; her dislike to Constance of Brittany; beseiged at Mirabeau by Prince Arthur; intercedes for Prince Arthur; dies of grief at Fontévraud. Eleanor of Castille, married to Edward I. ; accompanies him to the Holy Land; sucks the poison from his wounds; her death; the crosses erected to her memory. Eleanor of Provence, married to Henry III. ; vituperative ballads made on her; her unpopularity; her spirited conduct in the Barons' war. Elgiva, William the Conqueror's daughter, representation of, in the Bayeaux tapestry. Ely, Isle of, the Camp of Refuge established there. Emma, daughter of the Count of Paris, betrothed to Richard the Fearless. Emma, daughter of Richard the Fearless, wife of Ethelred the Unready and Knut; invites her sons to claim the throne of England. Emperors of the West, their influence on the election of Popes; deprived of this by the Lateran Council; their struggle to regain it. England, effects of the Danish conquest upon; sad state of, under William Rufus; granted to France by Pope Innocent III. ; a fief of Rome; the laws of, adhered to by the Norman kings; ignored by Henry II. , prosperity of, in the early part of Edward the First's reign; increase of learning in; discontented state of, under Edward II. . Ermengarde, mother of St. Anselm. Espriota, wife of William Longsword. Estates, inquisition into, by Edward I. . Etheling, account of the family of; meaning of the term. Ethelred the Unready, husband of Emma, daughter of Richard the Fearless; father of Edward the Confessor. Eustace, Count de Mantes, events of his visit to Edward the Confessor. Eustace de Blois, son of Stephen; his excesses and death. Evesham, battle of. Evil Toll, the, imposed by Edward I. ; opposition to, by the barons; results in the right of self-taxation. Exchequer, supposed derivation of. Eystein, son of Magnus, King of Norway; his discussion with his brother Sigurd; his conduct as King of Norway. 

Fair Rosamond, history of. Falaise, William the Conqueror born at; Prince Arthur in captivity there. Falkirk, battle of. Fescamp, Abbey of, Richard the Fearless buried there. Fitzadhelm, William, Governor of Ireland. Fitzosborn, William, the chief friend of William the Conqueror; his counsel to William on Harold's usurpation; his charge at Hastings. ---- Roger, imprisoned by William the Conqueror. Fitzpiers, Geoffrey, Grand Justiciary under King John. Fitz-Richard, Gilbert, his noble conduct. Fitzurse, Reginald, murderer of Becket; his arms. Fitzwalter, Lord, King John's outrage upon; the Barons make him their general. Flambard, Ralph; made Bp. Of Durham by William Rufus; his subsequent career. Flemings, the, settlement of, in Pembrokeshire. Folliott, Gilbert, Bp. Of London, his disappointment at Becket's promotion; supports the king against Becket; the pope's reproof to him; his excommunication. Fontévraud, the burial-place of Henry II. ; of Richard I. And Joan of Sicily; of Eleanor of Aquitaine. Forest laws, the grievance of, under William the Conqueror; their severity increased by William Rufus; mitigated by Magna Charta. Foulques I. , le Roux, Count of Anjou. Foulques II. , le Bon, Count of Anjou. Foulques III. , Ferra, Count of Anjou; his violent crimes and penances. Foulques IV. , le Réchin, Count of Anjou; events of his marriage with Bertrade. Foulques V. , Count of Anjou; joins the crusade; becomes King of Jerusalem. Franks, the conversion of their early kings to Christianity. France, the Northmen in; becomes a kingdom. Franco, Abp. , intercedes with the Northmen for Rouen; his influence over Rollo. Frederick II. , struggle between, and Pope Innocent IV. ; deposed by Council of Lyons. Frithric, Abbot of St. Alban's, his opposition to William the Conqueror; joins the Camp of Refuge, and dies there. 

Gael, the, a Keltic tribe. Gascony, seized by Philippe IV. Gastinois, countess de, accused of murdering her husband; vindicated by Ingelger. Gattorm, brother of St. Olaf, story of his childhood. Gaveston, Piers, account of; Edward of Caernarvon's attachment to; banished by Edward I. ; returns on the accession of Edward II. ; his vanity and advancement; his affronts to the nobles; they demand his dismissal; the king obliged to banish him; his recall; union of nobles against him; his surrender; his mock trial and death. Geoffrey, Count of Anjou, his war and personal combat with Duke William. Geoffrey, Grisegonelle, Count of Anjou; legend of his name. Geoffrey Martel, Count of Anjou. Geoffrey, son of Foulques V. , Count of Anjou. Geoffrey of Anjou, his appearance and character; married to Empress Maude; origin of his surname Plantagenet; death. Geoffrey le Barbu, Count of Touraine. Geoffrey, third son of Henry II. , married to Constance of Brittany; rebels against his father; his death. Geoffrey of Lincoln, son of Fair Rosamond, his fidelity to his father; becomes Abp. Of York and Chancellor; driven abroad by King John, and dies there. Geoffroi de la Tour and the lion. Gerbervi, Robert Courtheuse besieged by his father there. Germain, St. , effect of his preaching in Wales. Gifford, Walter, Count of Longueville, besieges Arques. Gillow, makes known to Duke William the conspiracy against him. Gisèle, the wife of Rollo. Gisors, the elm of, conferences under; description of. Glanville, Ranulf de, Chancellor and Grand Justiciary to Henry II. Godfrey de Bouillon, his noble character; conduct of, at the siege of Antioch; at Jerusalem; chosen King of Jerusalem; dies, and is buried there. Godiva, Lady, probably date of the tradition of. Godstow, Fair Rosamond retires to. Godwin, Earl of Wessex; traditions respecting his origin; his services to Knut; has Harold Harefoot crowned king; his treachery to Alfred Atheling; policy toward Edward the Confessor; characters of his sons; is driven into exile; his reconciliation to Edward; death and character. Goodwin sands, origin of. Gourdon, Adam de, the outlaw. Gourdon, Bertrand de, cause of death of Richard I. Goutran, his accusation against the Countess de Gastinois; overcome by Ingelger. Gray, John de, elected Abp. Of Canterbury; his election declared null by the Pope, refuses to acknowledge the Interdict; his advice to King John. Gregory VII. , Pope, his struggle with Henry IV. Of Germany. Grosteste, Robert, Bp. Of Lincoln, history of; his contest with the Pope for the rights of the Church; his death. Gryffyth, King of Wales. Gualo, the Pope's legate; takes charge of the minority of Henry III. Guerrin de Lire, abbot of Malmesbury. Guibert, the Antipope. Guimond of St. Leufroi, his noble rebuke of William the Conqueror. Gundred, doubts as to her being the daughter of William the Conqueror. Gundulf, Bp. Of Rochester, his answer to William Rufus; supports Anselm against the King; warns Rufus against hunting in the New Forest. Guy of Burgundy, his conspiracy against William of Normandy. Guy of Flanders, treachery to, by Phillipe IV. ; Edward I. 's alliance with; his death in prison. Gyda, wife of Earl Godwin. Gyrtha, his advice to his brother Harold; death at Hastings. Gytha, mother of Harold, her advice to her son. 

Hainault, Sir John of, heads Queen Isabel's invasion of England; accompanies Edward III. To the Border; marriage of Edward III. To his niece. Hako, grandson of Earl Godwin, hostage to William of Normandy. Halfdan, brother of St. Olaf, story of his childhood. Haro, supposed origin of the cry. Harold Bluetooth, his support of Richard the Fearless. Harold Hardrada, Tostig seeks his alliance against Harold of England; stories of his childhood, succeeds to the crown of Norway; accepts Tostig's invitation to invade England; Killed at Stamford bridge. Harold Harefoot, crowned King of England. Harold Harfagre, King of Norway. Harold, son of Earl Godwin; his character; his popularity with the king and people; hopes to secure the crown, becomes prisoner to William of Normandy, his oath to assist him to the crown of England; conversation at the death-bed of Edward the Confessor, is crowned King of England, defeats Harold Hardrada at Stamford Bridge; marches south to oppose William of Normandy; his entrenchment at Heathfield; wounded in the battle of Hastings; his body found by Edith; his burial at Waltham, tradition of surviving the battle of Hastings, his proceedings with the Welsh. Harthaknut becomes King of England; revenges his brother's wrongs; sends for his brother Edward from Normandy; his sudden death. Hasting the Sea-king at Rouen; his exploits; his interview with Rolf, settlement in France. Helie de la Flèche, conduct to, of William Rufus; his claim to the county of Maine. Helie de St. Saen, friend of Robert Courtheuse. Henry I. , Beauclerc, fourth son of William the Conqueror; his interview with his father on his death-bed; ill-treated by his brothers; secures the crown on the death of William Rufus; suspicion that he murdered Rufus; his disputes with Anselm; marries Edith of Scotland; Robert Courtheuse renounces his English rights in his favor, invades Normandy; his misery at the shipwreck of his son; his great abilities and learning; marries Alice of Louvain; declares his daughter Maude his successor, marries her to Geoffrey Plantagenet; remorse of his latter years; his death. Henry II. , Fitz-Empress, birth of; his training by the Earl of Gloucester; accession to the throne; marriage to Eleanor of Aquitaine; large dominions, activity and appearance; his opposition to the privileges of the clergy; quarrels with Becket on this subject, condemns Becket to forfeit his property; his proceedings at the Council of Northampton; conferences with Becket at Montmirail and Montmartre; complication of the quarrel; submits to Becket, his hasty imprecation against Becket; his grief at Becket's murder; conditions of his pardon, his penance at Becket's tomb; invades Ireland; the native princes submit to him; his crimes, his marriage the root of his misfortunes, his family; rebellion of his sons; arrogance of his son Henry; his conduct to his queen; conference with his sons at Limoges; excites his son Richard to rebellion, last interview with Phillippe Auguste, grief at the treachery of his son John, his miserable death and burial, his proceedings in Brittany respecting Prince Arthur, ignores the Old English laws. Henry III. , coronation of, made to agree to Magna Charta, his guardians during his minority, his character, foreign favourites at his court, his extravagance, poverty and rapacity, his dispute with Simon de Montfort, swears to keep the Great Charter, his dispute with the Barons, referred to Louis IX. , his position after the battle of Lewes, his death. Henry VIII. , his spoliation of Becket's shrine. Henry I. , of France, William of Normandy placed under his protection. Henry IV. , of Germany, his struggle with Pope Gregory VII. , appoints an antipope. Henry V. , of Germany marries Matilda, daughter of Henry Beauclerc, strange stories about. Henry VI. , of Germany, his conduct to Richard I. . Henry de Blois made Bp. Of Winchester, besieged at Winchester by Maude, consecrates Becket Abp. Of Canterbury, his generous support of Becket. Henry Plantagenet, eldest son of Henry II. , his marriage with Margaret of France, coronation of, in his father's lifetime, rebels against his father, his arrogance to his father, dispute with his brother Richard, his unhappy death. Henry, son of David I. Of Scotland, his character. Hereward le Wake, parentage of, attacks the Normans on his estate, establishes the Camp of Refuge, his prowess and courage, his principal followers, attacked by William the Conqueror at the Camp of Refuge, his exploits there, makes peace with William, tradition of his love for Alftrude, his latter days and death, valued by William the Conqueror. Herluin, Count of Montreuil, the ally of William Longsword, suspected of causing his death, killed by the Danes. Hervé de Montmarais, his proceedings in Ireland. Hilary, Bp. Of Chichester, supports Henry II. Against Becket, his ex-communication. Hilda, mother of Rolf Ganger. Hildebrand frees the Pope from the subjection of the Emperor. See Gregory VII. Hildegarde, wife of Foulques III. , Count of Anjou. Holy Land, the position of the Christians there at the last Crusade, its colonization by the Latins unsuccessful. Holy Roman Empire, the, its foundation, Charlemagne the first Emperor, its extent, France falls away from it. Hospitallers and Templars, their jealousy of each other, valor of the Hospitallers at the fall of the Acre, their settlement at the Isle of Rhodes. Houghton, Lord, his poem on the fate of the Templars. Howell Dha, the Lawgiver of Wales. Hugh the White, Count of Paris, his daughter betrothed to Richard the Fearless. Hugh the Wolf, Earl of Chester, his friendship for Anselm, retires to a monastery, his conduct as a Lord Marcher. 

Ingelger, the legend of, becomes first Count of Anjou. Ingulf of Croyland, his recollections of Queen Edith. Innocent III. , Pope, nominates Stephen Langton Abp. Of Canterbury, places England under an interdict, annuls Magna Charta, interferes against the crown of England being given to Louis the Lion, his death. Innocent IV. , Pope, his exactions on England, contests with Frederick II. , his exactions on the clergy, interference with the English Church, quarrel with the English Barons respecting Church patronage, Bp. Grosteste opposes his encroachments, his death. Inquisition into estates by Edward I. . Interdict, the, of England, by Pope Innocent III. . Ireland, depredations of the pirates in, the slave-trade with, stopped by Bps. Wulstan and Lanfranc, confusion of its early history, its conversion to Christianity, inroads of the Northmen, Pope Adrian IV. Grants it to Henry II. , invaded by Strong bow, submission of, to Henry II. , regulations for the Church, granted to John Lackland as his inheritance, invasion of, by Edward and Robert Bruce. Isabelle of Angoulème engaged to Hugh de Lusignan, marries King John, her contempt for her husband, marries Hugh de Lusignan, her reputation for sorcery. Isabel of France, her marriage to Edward II. , her complaints against Gaveston, report of her aiding the escape of the younger Mortimer, complains to the King of France of her treatment; goes to the French court; her affection for Mortimer; invades England; her successes against her husband; her conduct with Mortimer; cruelty to the Earl of Kent; her pleading for Mortimer; despair at his execution; her death. Italian clergy thrust into the English Church; hatred of the English to these. Ivo de Grantmesnil, friend of Robert Courtheuse. Ivo Taillebois, Lord of Spalding; his overbearing conduct; his expeditions against Hereward; taken prisoner by him; his outrages on Croyland Abbey; banished by William Rufus. 

Jerusalem, Robert the Magnificent at; emotion of the first Crusaders at beholding it; the slaughter there, at its capture from the infidels; King Richard's grief at his inability to take it. Jews, the persecution of, under Henry III;their treatment by Edward I. Joan, sister of Richard I. , Queen of Sicily, dispute with King Tancred about; takes charge of Berengaria; dies, and is buried with her brother. Joan of Acre, birth of; marriage of, to Gilbert de Clare; her second marriage to Ralph de Monthermer; character; her sudden death. John Lackland, Ireland given him as his inheritance; his unworthy conduct there; reason of his name; his father's affection for him; turns traitor to his father; his conduct respecting Richard's captivity; Richard's generous pardon to him; bequeaths him the crown; his marriage to Isabelle of Angoulême; his promises respecting Prince Arthur; imprisons him at Falaise; his parley with him there and attempted cruelty; murders Prince Arthur; summoned by Philippe Auguste to answer for this; his French fiefs declared forfeit; conquered from him by Philippe; his Queen's contempt for him; his dispute with the Pope about the election to the See of Canterbury; his reply to the threat of an interdict; excommunicated; deposed; his embassy to the Emir of Cordova; submission to the Pope; yields himself a vassal to Rome; his outrageous exactions; the Barons revolt against these; promises to grant the Great Charter; attempts to cajole the Barons; signs the Charter; his rage, and efforts to annul it; his war with the Barons; contest with Louis the Lion and the Barons; loss of his treasure at the Wash; his despair and death. Joinville, Sieur de, accompanies Louis IX. On his crusade; his bravery at Mansourah; is taken prisoner; opposes Louis's second crusade; his notices of Louis IX. Joppa, the Crusaders at. Judith, wife of Earl Waltheof; her perfidy to her husband. Jumièges, Abbey of, restored by William Longsword. 

Kelts, the history of. Kent, Edmund, Earl of, Queen Isabel's treachery and cruelty to. Kent, the men of, their treaty with William the Conqueror. Kings lost in battle, legends of their survival. Kirkpatrick, his share in the murder of the Red Comyn. Knut, husband of Emma, daughter of Richard the Fearless; legends respecting his murder of Ulf. 

Lacy, Hugo, made Governor of Ireland; his murder. Lacy, Hugo de (2d), made Governor of Ireland by King John; his treachery to De Courcy. Lancaster, Earl of, Gaveston's nickname for; unites with other nobles against Gaveston; his part in the downfall and death of Gaveston; his discontent toward Edward II; his proceeding against the Despensers; his arrest and execution; his character. Lanfranc, the first rise of; his reputation at Rome; becomes Abp. Of Canterbury; his esteem for Wulstan; William the Conqueror's friendship for; commanded by William the Conqueror to crown Rufus King of England; favors the views of Gregory VII; his death. Langley, Walter, Bp. Of Lichfield, reproves Edward of Caernarvon; his imprisonment. Langston, Simon, brother of the abp. Langton, Stephen, nominated by the Pope Abp. Of Canterbury; refused by King John; acknowledged by John; takes possession of the see; forbids John's violence; his support of Magna Charta against the Pope; gets the Barons to adopt it; his mission to Rome on behalf of it and the Barons. Lateran Council, the, exactions of. Laws of England, adhered to by the Norman Kings; ignored by Henry II; their violation by King John; Edward I's code of. Lay investiture of bishops, disputes about their settlement, Leofric, Earl of Mercia, assists Edward the Confessor against Godwin, his death, Leofric, father of Hereward, . Leofwyn, his advice to his brother Harold, death at Hastings, Leopold of Austria at the siege of Acre, his banner insulted by Richard, his quarrel with Richard at Ascalon, seizes Richard on his return, Lewes, the battle of, its results, Lillebonne, the parliament at, Limoges, meeting of Henry II. And his sons at, Lincoln, the fair of, Linlithgow, the capture of, from the English, Lion, anecdote of its faithfulness, Lockhard, origin of the name of, London, becomes the Royal residence under the Danes, preserves its rights at the Norman Conquest, submits to William the Conqueror, Longchamp, William, Bp. Of Ely, chancellor, arrogant character of, his disgrace, Longespée, William, son of Fair Rosamond, history of, his death, Longespée, William, the second son of the above, joins Richard Plantagenet's crusade, gets a grant from the Pope for it, joins the crusade of St. Louis, his advice to Robert d'Artois, killed at Mansourah, Lords Marchers of Wales, the, Lorn, John of, Bruce's combat with, his pursuit of Bruce, is captured and imprisoned, Lothaire, son of Louis IV. , companion of Richard the Fearless, becomes hostage for his father, succeeds to the throne of France, his treachery to Richard the Fearless, Richard's victory over him, Louis l'éveillé of France sheltered by Henry I. , Louis IV. Of France, carries off Richard the Fearless, declares war against the Normans, is taken prisoner, his death, Louis VI. , le Jeune, why so named, Louis VII. , divorced from Eleanor of Aquitaine, his support of Becket, turns against him at Montmirail, their reconciliation, his tributes to Becket's memory, excites Henry II. 's sons to rebellion. Louis IX. , becomes King of France, takes the cross, his embarkation, arrival at Damietta, at the battle of Mansourah, his encampment there, taken captive by the Saracens, his conduct to the Memelukes, release and return, the dispute between Henry III. And his Barons referred to him, again takes the Cross, joined by Prince Edward of England, his expedition against Tunis, his expedition against Tunis, his disasters at Carthage, his sickness there, last hours and death, his character, Louis Philippe's chapel on this spot of his death, Louis the Lion, his marriage to Blanche of Castile, the crown of England offered to him, interference of the Pope against this, his invasion of England, the Barons' suspicious of him, his various contests, concludes a peace and returns home, 285. Lusignan, Guy de, King of Jerusalem, Lusignan, Hugh de, Count de la Marche, engaged to Isabelle of Angoulême, takes part with Prince Arthur, imprisoned by King John, marries Isabelle after John's death, Lusignan, de, legend of the house of, the family favored by Henry III. , See Valence de. Lyons, council of, the English deputies at, deposes Frederick II. , Macmorogh Dermod, King of Leinster, his outrage and reverses, gets assistance from Strongbow and others, Madoc, the story of, Mad Parliament, the, meeting of, at Oxford, its acts declared void by Louis IX. , Magna Charta. See Charta. Magnus, King of Norway, gives his kingdom to Harold Hardrata, Mahometans, contract between the Saracenic and Turkish, Malachy, King of Meath, legends of, Malcolm III. Of Scotland, his kindness to the Etheling family, his marriage to Margaret, his character and reverence for his wife, manner of his death, troubles in Scotland after this, Malek el Afdal, Saladin's brother, his courtesy to Richard I. , Malek el Kamel, sultan, opposes the Egyptian Crusaders, his generosity, Mamelukes, the, revolt of, in St. Louis's crusade, Mansourah, contests at, in the first Egyptian crusade, battle of, in St. Louis's crusade, horrors of encampment there, Mantes, the insurrection at, William the Conqueror's fatal accident at, March of Wales, the, under the Normans, Margaret, daughter of Edward the Etheling; marries Malcolm III. Of Scotland; her beneficial influence on Scotland and the Scottish Church; her death. Margaret, the infant Queen of Scotland, death of. Marguerite of Provence, Queen of France, character of; accompanies St. Louis on his crusade; her sad position at Damietta. Marguerite of France, her marriage to Edward I. ; her character. Marlborough, the parliament of. Marmion of Fontenaye, William the Conqueror's champion at his coronation. Maine, loss of, by England to Philippe Auguste. Martin, abbot of Jumièges, his advice to William Longsword. Matilda of Anjou, married to William the Etheling; retires to a nunnery. Matilda of Boulogne, wife of Stephen of Blois. Matilda of Flanders, her marriage to William the Conqueror; founds the Abbaye aux Dames at Caen; her help toward the invasion of England; works the Bayeux tapestry; her coronation; character; her affection for Robert Courtheuse; her death; her husband's tender love for. Matilda of Huntingdon, married to David I. Of Scotland. Matilda, daughter of William the Conqueror, betrothed to Edwin; her touching death. Matilda, daughter of Henry I. , marries Henry V. , of Germany. See Maude. Maude, the good queen, her support of Abp. Anselm; her character and death. Maude, or Matilda, daughter of Henry I. ; married to Henry V. , of Germany; Henry declares her his heir; married secondly to Geoffrey Plantagenet; her pride and haughtiness; deprived by Stephen of the English crown; her cause increases in strength; proclaimed queen; her disdainful manners; her reverses at Winchester; besieged by Stephen at Oxford; escapes over the snow; retires to Anjou. Maulac, Pierre de, aids in the murder of Prince Arthur; his further cruelties. Melisende, Princess of Jerusalem; marries Foulques V. Of Anjou. Melusine of Lusignan, legend of. Mercia, earldom of. Mertoun, the Synod of. Messina, Richard Coeur de Lion at. Methven, battle of. Milesians, the, myths concerning. Mirabeau, siege of, by Prince Arthur. Mitton, the Chapter of, the combat so called. Molay, Jacques de, grand master of the Templars; his trial; his cruel treatment and death. Monteil, Adhemar de, Bp. Of Puy, takes the Cross at the Council of Clermont. Montfort, Guy, lawless conduct of; murders Henry d'Almayne; his excommunication and subsequent fate. Montfort, Henry, lawless conduct of; his death at the battle of Evesham; ballad lore version of his fate. Montford, Simon, the elder, history of; his death. Montford, Simon, the younger, marries a sister of Henry III. ; his popularity; the king's jealousy of him; his dispute with the king; his conduct in taking the oath to the Acts of Oxford; in the Barons' war; his behavior in prosperity; violence and lawlessness of his sons; his death at the battle of Evesham; his noble character; fate of his family. Montford, Simon (3d), his conduct at the siege of Northampton; his lawless conduct; sacks Winchester; his escape from Kenilworth; murders Henry D'Almayne. Montgomery, Roger, messenger of Duke William of Normandy. Monthermer, Ralph de, his marriage to Joan of Acre. Montmirail, conference between Henry II. And Becket at. Morkar, the grandson of Leofric; the enemy of Harold; submits to William the Conqueror; joins the Camp of Refuge; ends his life in captivity. Morogh O'Brien, King of Ireland; sends William Rufus oak for Westminster Hall. Mortimer, Roger, at the battle of Lewes; aids the escape of Prince Edward from Hereford. Mortimer, Roger, senior and junior, join the Barons against the Despensers; taken prisoners by Edward II. ; sentenced to perpetual imprisonment; death of the elder in the Tower. Mortimer, Roger, the younger, his escape from the Tower; Queen Isabel's affection for him; anger of the nation at his display and presumption; his arrest at Nottingham; execution at Tyburn. Morville, Hugh, murderer of Becket; his armorial bearings. 

Neustria, the district in France conquered by Rollo; ceded to him by the king; afterward termed Normandy. New Forest, formation of, by William the Conqueror; Richard, son of Robert Courtheuse, killed there; death of William Rufus in. Nicaea, Robert the Magnificent dies at; the crusading army at. Norham, conference at, respecting the Crown of Scotland. Norman Barons, their character at the accession of Duke William. Normandy, origin of its name; sad state of, under William Rufus; its troubles under Robert Courtheuse; invasion and conquest of, by Henry I. ; lost to the English by John. Normans, the, character of; their exploits in Apulia; put in possession of English estates; beneficial effect of this on the English race; their opinion of Hereward; their rapacity in England; support the popes against the emperors. Northampton, council of, proceedings against Becket at; besieged by the Barons. Northmen, the, account of; their character as pirates; as settlers; gave the name to Normandy; change in their character; their inroads on Ireland. See Normans. Northumbria, the earldom of. 

O'Connor, Roderick. King of Ireland; his opposition to the invaders. Odo, Bp. Of Bayeux, joins William the Conqueror in his invasion of England; commands the reserve at Hastings; representation of him in the Bayeux tapestry; his disgrace and imprisonment; released by Robert Courtheuse; takes the Cross; blesses the unlawful marriage of Philippe I. Olaf, St. , his prophecies of his young brothers; his death in battle. Olaf Scotkonung, King of Sweden, his charge of Edmund Ironside's children. Olaf Trygvesson in Ireland. Oraric of Meath, treachery of. Orleton, Adam, Bp. Of Hereford, his enmity to Edward II. ; his answer to Queen Isabel; his quarrel with her. Osborn, Counte De Breteuil, murder of. Osgood, Clapa, the Dane, gives the name to Clapham. Osmund de Centeville, his fidelity to Richard the Fearless. Otho, Emperor of Germany, makes war against Richard the Fearless. Otho, the Pope's legate, tumult against, at Oxford. Ottoboni, Cardinal, preaches the Crusade in France and England. Oxford, Mande besieged at, by Stephen; escapes from, over the snow; meeting of the Mad Parliament at; its acts declared void by Louis IX. 

Pallium, the, Anselm's dispute with William Rufus about. Pandulfo, the Pope's legate, King John's submission to; takes charge of Henry III. In his minority. Parliament, the, of Westminster; the Mad, of Oxford; those under Edward I. ; increase of its power through the right of self-taxation. Patriarch, the, of Rome, acknowledged by the conquering tribes. Paschall II. , Pope, Anselm consults. Pelagian heresy, the, in Wales. Pembroke, Richard, Earl of, assassination of. Pembroke, William, Earl of, has Henry III. Crowned; appointed his governor during his minority. Percy, legend of the origin of the name. Peter the Hermit, his appearance at the Council of Clermont; leads the first Crusade; defection of, at the siege of Antioch; sings mass at the Holy Sepulchre. Pevensey, landing of the Normans at. Philippa of Hainault, Edward III. 's first meeting with; her marriage to him. Philippe I. Of France, refuses to aid William the Conqueror's invasion of England; aids Robert Courtheuse against his father; supports the insurrection at Mantes; his connection with Bertrade, wife of Foulques of Anjou. Philippe August, his birth and early character; his accession to the throne of France; agrees to join Richard Coeur de Lion in a crusade; his last meeting with Henry II. ; sets out with Richard on the Crusade; his intended treachery; his jealousy of Richard; returns home; his conduct respecting Richard's captivity; conduct toward Prince Arthur; quarrel with King John; summons John to answer for the murder of Prince Arthur; invades his French fiefs; wins back Normandy, Anjou, &c. , from the English; England granted to him by the Pope. Philippe III. , his father's last advice to him; gives up the Crusade. Philippe IV. , character of; his deceit to Edward I. ; his treachery to the Count of Flanders; persecution of Boniface VIII. ; causes the election of Clement V. ; his proceedings against the Templars; his death. Plantagenet, Richard. See Richard. Poer, Roger le, chaplain to Henry I. , Bp. Of Salisbury. Poitiers, Alfonse, Count de, at the Crusade of St. Louis; left as a hostage. Pontigny, Becket retires to; driven from thence. Pope, the, rescued from the Lombards by Charlemagne; signification of the word; early power of; becomes head of the Western Church; atrocities attending the election of, the election of, transferred from the emperor to the cardinals; the struggle to regain this, Purkiss carries the body of William Rufus to Winchester; his descendants still living in the New Forest. 

Ralph Flambard, Bishop of Durham, the friend of Rufus; incites Robert Courtheuse against Henry I. Randolf de Brock, enemy of Becket; assists his murderers. Randolph, Thomas, his reply to Robert Bruce; gives him his allegiance; captures Edinburgh Castle; his exploits in border warfare; appointed regent of Scotland. Raoul, Bp. Of Durham, at the battle of the Standard. Raymond le Gros, friend of Strongbow; his exploits in Ireland; made Protector of the kingdom. Raymond of Toulouse joins the first crusade; his conduct at the siege of Jerusalem. Reginald, elected Abp. Of Canterbury; his election declared null by the Pope;Rhodes, conquered by the Hospitallers. Rich, Edmund, Abp. Of Canterbury, character of; exposes the treachery of Des Roches; his retirement and death. Richard, Apb. Of Canterbury, character of. Richard Coeur de Lion, second son of Henry II. , betrothed to Alice of France; his love of Languedoc; rebels against his father; his dispute with his brother Henry; origin of his surname; agrees to join Philippe Auguste in a crusade; disputes respecting his betrothal to Alice of France; his attachment to Berengaria; does homage to Philippe; his last interview with his father; remorse at his father's death; his preparations for the crusade; joins with Philippe; instances of his violent nature; his dispute with Tancred of Sicily; his conquest of Cyprus; his marriage to Berengaria; gallantry at Acre, exploits in the march from Acre; quarrel with Leopold of Austria; his grief at being unable to take Jerusalem; his daring courage at Joppa, a truce signed with Saladin; sets out on his return home; his adventures by the way, capture and imprisonment; discovered by Blondel; his release and return home; his dispute with Constance of Brittany; besieges the castle of Chaluz, manner of his death there. Richard Plantagenet, Earl of Cornwall, undertakes a crusade; its results; elected King of the Romans; takes the oath to the acts of Oxford; taken prisoner at Lewes; his death. Richard, son of Robert Courtheuse, killed in the New Forest. Richard the Fearless, son of William Longsword and Espriote; succeeds to the dukedom, carried off by Louis IV. His escape, does homage for his duchy; his betrothal; the wars against him, attempts at his assassination; his victory over Lothaire; his character; death, piety, etc. Richard the Good, succeeds his father Richard the Fearless; his character; his protection of the sons of Ethelred. Richard, son of Richard the Good. Richard, William the Conqueror's second son, early death of. Robert, Bp. Of Hereford, the friend of St. Wulstan. Robert, count of Eu, joins William the Conqueror in his invasion of England. Robert, Count of Paris. Robert Courtheuse, William the Conqueror's eldest son; his dispute with his brothers at L'aigle; his rebellion against his father; his mother's affection for him; encounters his father in battle; his war with William Rufus; takes the cross; superiority of his character to his brothers'; mortgages his dukedom to Rufus; his conduct at the siege of Antioch; declines being King of Jerusalem; his friendship with Edgar Atheling; his marriage; gives up his rights to Henry I. ; Henry's intrigues against him, ; is taken prisoner; imprisoned in Cardiff castle, ; his last years and death. Robert, Earl of Gloucester, son of Henry I. ; espouses the cause of the Empress Maude; is taken prisoner; exchanged for Stephen; his staunch support of Maude; his learning. Robert the Magnificent, his character; resolves on a pilgrimage to the Holy Land; declares his son (William the Conqueror) his heir, his pilgrimage and death. Rochester, the siege of, by King John. Rockingham, the convocation at. Roderick Maur, the Welsh prince. Roger, Abp. Of York, the enemy of Becket; his excommunication, his jealousy of the Abp. Of Canterbury, Rognwald, earl, father of Rolf Ganger, Rolf Ganger, origin of his name, outlawed for piracy, attacks Rouen, his rude generosity, interview with Hasting, conquests in France, Neustria (Normandy) ceded to him, tradition of his homage to the King of France, embraces Christianity, his government of Normandy, his history very doubtful, Rollo, the French name for Rolf, Roll of Battle Abbey, account of, Roman Empire, the, decay of, Rome, England a fief ofRosamund Clifford, history of, Rouen attacked by Rolf Ganger, its surrender, made the capital of the territory, William Longsword buried at, besieged by the enemies of Richard the Fearless, the Abp. Of, excommunicates William the Conqueror, Roxburgh, capture of, by Sir James Douglas, Rudel, Jauffred, the troubadour, the story of, Runnymede, the Great Charter signed at, Ryes, Hubert de, his service to Duke William, Sailors' quarrel between France and England, St. Laurence, Sir Almeric de, brother in arms of Sir John de Courcy, his exploits in Ireland, St. Mahé, the sea-fight at, St. Patrick, the conversion of Ireland by, St. Thomas's hospital, named after Archbishop Becket, Saladin obtains supreme power in Palestine, his courtesies to Richard I. , Salisbury, John of, the friend of Becket, exiled by Henry II. , Samson le Breton, messenger of Queen Matilda, Saracen Arabs, the, character of, Savoy palace, the, origin of, Saxons, the, held in no favor at Rome, cause of their ruin at the Conquest, their derision of the Normans, Scandinavia, the nurse of the Teuton race, Scotland, depredations of the pirates in, its troubles after the death of Malcolm III. , decay of the kings of, the troubles of, following the death of Alexander III. , claims to the crown of, referred to Edward I. , Edward I. Claims to be Lord paramount, harsh government of, under Edward I. , the troubles of, under the Bruce dynasty, the strength of, under Robert Bruce, peace concluded with, by England, Scottish Church, the, reformed by Queen Margaret, Scott, Michael, the wizard, account of, Septs, system of, in Ireland, Sepulchre, the Holy, the crusaders at, Sewell, Abp. Of York, his opposition to the encroachments of Rome, Ship, the White, story of the wreck of, Sigurd the Crusader, visitor to Henry I. , his career, his discussion with his brother Eystein, his sad fate, Simon, Earl of Northampton, son of Matilda of Scotland, his character, his contempt for his brother Waltheof, his repentance and death, Siward Biorn, Earl of Northumbria, assists Edward the Confessor against Godwin, his death, Sonnac, Guillaume de, in the Egyptian crusade, Stamford Bridge, battle of, Standard, the, battle of, Stapleton, Walter, Bp. Of Exeter, his murder at Paul's Cross, Stephen, Count of Blois, married to William the Conqueror's daughter Adela, takes the Cross, his character, Stephen (II. ) of Blois, favorite of Henry I. , swears fealty to Maude, his proceedings on the death of Henry I. , obtains possession of England and Normandy, his good qualities, taken prisoner at Lincoln, regains his liberty, besieges Maude at Oxford, retains the throne unmolested, his death, Stephen, King of Hungary, his charge of Edmund Ironside's children, his character, Stigand, Abp. , his absence from the coronation of Harold, suspicion of, by the Court of Rome, his deposition, Stiklestad, battle of, Stirling, battle of, siege of, siege of the castle by Edward Bruce, Randolph's conduct at, Strongbow, Earl of Pembroke, his invasion of Ireland, Henry II. Makes him seneschal, and governor, his death, Swend, quarrel of, with Harold Hardrada, Sweyne, son of Earl Godwin, his character and crimes, Sybil, daughter of Helie de la Flèche, marries Foulques V. Of Anjou, Sybilla, wife of Robert Courtheuse, Taillefer, the minstrel knight at Hastings, Tancred de Hauteville, the kingdom of the Two Sicilies founded by his sons. Tancred joins the first Crusade; his prowess at Antioch; at Jerusalem. Tancred of Sicily, disputes between him and Richard Coeur de Lion; Prince Arthur betrothed to his daughter. Templars, the Knights, jealousy between them and the Hospitallers; their valor at the fall of Acre; their proceedings afterward; given up by Clement V. To Philippe IV. ; their arrest and the accusations against them; their order abolished by the Pope; persecution of, in different kingdoms; their character and fate. Temple, the, in London, history of. Teuchebray, battle of. Teutons, the, reared in Scandinavia; their law regarding land. Theobald, Count de Blois, favorite of Henry I. Thibaut, Count de Chartes, his treachery toward Richard the Fearless; his submission to him. Thorer the Silent, son of Earl Rognwald. Thorold, Abbot of Malmesbury, appointed to Peterborough; his expedition against Hereward; is taken prisoner. Thurstan, Abp. Of York. Torfrida, wife of Hereward. Torguatus, ancestor of the Anjou family. Tostig, son of Earl Godwin; becomes Earl of Northumbria; banished by Harold; becomes his bitter enemy; invites Harold Hardrada to invade England; his interview with his brother Harold; is killed at Stamford Bridge. Touraine, loss of, by the English to France. Tracy, William, the murderer of Becket; his armorial bearings. Triefels, castle of, Richard Coeur de Lion immured in. Troubadours, the, account of; their lament for Coeur de Lion. Tunis, Louis IX. 's expedition against. Tunstan the White, standard-bearer at Hastings. Turges, the Dane, King of Ireland. Turks, the, character of; the first crusade directed against them. Turlogh, King of Ireland. Tynte family, origin of their name and armorial bearings. Tyrrell, Walter, alone with Rufus at his death in the New Forest. 

Ulf, Earl Godwin's brother-in-law, legends respecting. Ulfnoth, father of Earl Godwin; remains in captivity till death. Ulfnoth son of Earl Godwin, hostage to William of Normandy. Urban II. , Pope, elected by the cardinals; presides at the Council of Clermont; urges the first crusade. 

Val des Dames, the battle of. Valence de, the English cognomen of the Lusignan family. Valence, Aymar de, his contest with Bruce; his pursuit of him; defeated by Bruce at Loudon Hill; Gaveston's nick-name for him; unites with other nobles against Gaveston; his character; his conduct at the death of Gaveston; sent by Edward II. To Scotland against Bruce. Valence, William de, half-brother to Henry III. , opposition between him and the Barons. Varangian guard, the. Vikings, the, account of. 

Wakefield, Peter, of his prediction to King John; John's cruelty to him. Wales, early history of. Walkelyn, Bishop of Winchester, grant of timber to him by William the Conqueror. Wallace, William, history of; declares against Edward I. ; wins the battle of Stirling; assumes the title of Governor; defeated at the battle of Falkirk; his betrayal and execution. Wallingford Castle, Maude escapes to. Walsingham, our Lady of, origin of the church of. Walter, Hubert, Abp. Of Canterbury, account of. Walter l'Espee at the battle of the Standard. Walter the Penniless joins the first crusade. Waltham Abbey, Harold and his brothers buried at. Waltheof, Earl of Huntingdon, son of Siward Biorn; rejects submission to William the Conqueror; perfidious conduct of his wife; executed at Winchester. ---- son of Matilda of Scotland, character of; becomes abbot of Melrose; his meeting with King Stephen; elected Bp. Of St. Andrew's. Warrenne, John de, Earl of Surrey, his sword his title to his estate; his expedition against Wallace; his conduct at the battle of Stirling. ---- Isabel, her appeal to Henry III. Wash, the, loss of King John's treasure at. Welsh, the, a Keltic tribe; their fierce internal quarrels; their position under the Saxon and Norman kings. Wessex, the earldom of. Western Church, the, degeneration of, after the Crusades. Western Empire, the, break up of. Westminster Abbey, foundation of, by Edward the Confessor; Henry III. 's benefactions to; its appearance temp. Edward I. Westminster Hall, the oak for the roof sent from Ireland. White Ship, the story of the wreck of. William the Conqueror, son of Robert the Magnificent, acknowledged his father's heir; his accession; early conspiracies against him; defeats the rebels; his war with Anjou; marriage with Matilda of Flanders; founds the Abbey of St. Stephen at Caen; his grave and burial there; his visit to Edward the Confessor; Edward leaves the crown of England to him; Harold becomes his prisoner; obtains an oath of assistance from him; receives tidings of Harold's coronation; summons a parliament at Lillebonne; prepares for the invasion of England; lands at Pevensey; his appearance at the battle of Hastings; his victory there; his coronation; his mode of satisfying his followers; attacks the Camp of Refuge; makes peace with Hereward; his high character; his principal friends; his many disappointments; character of his wife; of his daughters; of his sons; rebellion of Robert Courtheuse against him; his grief at Queen Matilda's death; his fatal accident at Mantes; interview with his sons on his death-bed; leaves the crown of England to William Rufus; his death; history of the submission of London to him; his dealings with the Welsh. William Rufus, his father's love for him; interview with his father on his death-bed; he nominates him successor to the crown of England; his oppression of the Church and people; rapine under him in England and Normandy; his remorse at his sacrilege; makes Anselm Abp. Of Canterbury; his war with his brother Robert; his disputes with Anselm; exiles him for life; his friend Ralph Flambard; increases the severity of the Forest laws; his dream the night before his death; his death in the New Forest; burial at Winchester; relics of his death still remaining; doubts by whom he was killed; his conduct to Helie de la Flèche. William Etheling, eldest son of Henry I. ; marries Matilda of Anjou; drowned in the White Ship. William Fitzosborne de Breteuil, his proceedings on the death of Rufus. William of Scotland, captivity of; purchases his freedom. William, son of Rollo, his father leaves him his dukedom; surnamed Longsword; his character; father of Richard the Fearless; his base murder; burial at Rouen. William, son of Robert Courtheuse; given in charge of Helie de St. Saen; his career and early death. Winchelsea, Robert, Abp. Of Canterbury, opposes Edward I. 's exactions on the Clergy; their reconciliation; holds the Synod of Mertoun; Edward's vengeance on him; his death and character; his denunciations of Gaveston. Winchester, the council of; burial of Rufus at; Maude besieged there; sacking of, by Simon de Montfort. Wolves' heads, the tribute of, from Wales. Woodstock, Fair Rosamond at. Worcester cathedral, rebuilt by Wulstan. Wulstan, the last Saxon bishop, account of; chosen Bp. Of Worcester; his conduct at the council of Winchester; legend of his staff at the Confessor's tomb; retains his bishopric; rebuilds his cathedral; his death; William the Conqueror's friendship for him. Wych, Richard, Bp. Of Chichester, history of; his good works and death. 

York and Canterbury, jealousy between. 

Zoe, Empress of Constantinople, her love for Harold Hardrada. 

THE END