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“The greatest of the House of Plantagenet.” e
** One of the greatest sovereigns that has swayed the
English sceptre.” tº © <>
“The most sagacious and resolute of English princes.”
“A great statesman and commander.” . ſº
“The model of a politic and warlike king.” e
“One of the best legislators and greatest politicians
that ever filled the throne of England.”
“This great king.” . tº ſe ſº
“A firm and capable prince, who knew how to con-
centrate and direct all the forces of society. In
him the State possessed a centre and a chief.”
“His glorious and triumphant reign.” . ©
“His legislative wisdom, and heroic valour.” º
“One of the greatest princes that ever swayed a
sceptre.” º ~ º º
“The heroic king.” . © e Q
KEIGHTLEY.
SHARON TURNER.
WALTER SCOTT.
MACRINTOSH.
FIUME:
HENRY.
P. FRASER TYTLER,
GUIZOT.
RAPIN.
AIISON.
LARDNER's Cyclopedia.
Encyclo. Metropolitana.
PR. E. F. A. C. E.
THE spirit of investigation which has, of late
years, pervaded much of our historical literature,
has worked many changes in the position and esti-
mation of some of the most prominent characters in
English history. Henry VIII. and Elizabeth, Crom-
well and William III., Marlborough and William
Penn, do not occupy, with us, the same places which
they occupied at the beginning of the present cen-
tury. The historians of the last age have come to
be regarded as not altogether well-informed ; and as
being, in many instances, under the dominion of
party or national prejudices.
There is, however, one period into which this
spirit of investigation has not yet penetrated ;—
although that period is, in some respects, the most
interesting and important of all : “The turning
point of English history,” according to one Writer,
X PREFACE.
There is no law of more universal application,
than that which prefers the evidence of a contem-
porary to that of a person writing long after the
events recorded. “As all original witnesses,” says
Sir G. C. Lewis, “must be contemporary with the
events which they attest, it is a necessary condition
for the credibility of a witness that he be a con-
temporary%.”
Now the English chroniclers who lived in Ed-
Ward's days were some ten or twelve in number;
namely, Hemingford, Trivet, Matthew of Westminster,
Wykes, Rishanger, Langtoft, Knighton, the Chron-
icles of Lanercost, Rochester, St. Alban’s, Abingdon,
&c. Against these there is not, on the side of the
Scots, one single line of contemporary evidence to
be produced.
Nor do we hear of s Scottish chronicle until some
seventy years after Edward's death. But when the
Bruces had passed away, and the Stewarts came in
their room, about the year 1375, Robert II. of Scot-
land employed Barbour to write an eulogistic history
of “The Bruce ;” for which work a pension was
* Lewis on Roman History, p. 16.
PREFACE. xi
afterwards granted him. Barbour had to describe
events which had happened long before he was born.
He had to windicate Bruce from the double guilt
of assassination and of many perjuries. And there
was no other way of doing this, than by loading
Edward’s memory with many grievous accusations.
After Barbour followed Fordun, who wrote in the
last years of the century, and Wyntoun, who wrote
between 1400 and 1420. These could only repeat
the stories already collected or invented by Barbour;
garnishing his fictions with new circumstances of
their own.
Yet upon these three writers, who compiled from
tradition, and by the help of their own imaginations,
histories of the events which happened in the days
of their grandfathers, do the modern Scotch histo-
rians, of all classes, resolve to pin their faith; pre-
ferring such third-rate testimony to that of the ten
or twelve English chroniclers who lived in Edward's
own day. They thereby violate, as we have said,
two of the plainest canons of historical writing.
They set aside the evidence of Several men who re-
corded the facts which passed before their own eyes,
and prefer that of two or three collectors of old
xii IPREFACE.
traditions, who lived a century after. And those
whose testimony they thus prefer, are writers who
wrote not merely with prejudice, but under the in-
fluence of feelings of the deepest hostility.
It is time that this great wrong should be re-
dressed. In doing this we need not reject or sum-
marily discredit the statements of the three Scottish
historians. They have a certain value, inasmuch as
they furnish us with the opposite view to that which
was naturally taken by Englishmen. Their narratives
should be calmly considered ; and only quite dis-
credited when they stand opposed to a higher
testimony, or to evident probability. A statement
which first sees the light some seventy or eighty
years after the date of the event to which it refers,
and which is not easily reconciled with facts which
are beyond a doubt, ought not, surely, to be received
with unhesitating belief. But a calm and reasonable
comparison of these two classes of writers has never
yet been undertaken. It is hoped that this desid-
eratum may be in some measure supplied in the
following pages.
For, besides the national prejudice which has
pervaded and perverted many histories of this reign,
f*REFACE. xiii
there are other reasons which render a new examina-
tion of the original evidence highly desirable. Few,
even of our English writers, have done full justice to
the high intellect and largeness of heart of this great
king. He is often represented as fond of arbitrary
power; and as yielding important concessions to his
people only from necessity, and under the pressure
of adverse circumstances. Yet no imputation could
be more undeserved ; no censure more unjust. But
we must not anticipate the result of the inquiry.
We merely assign it, in this place, as one of the
reasons for the present attempt, that, in our view,
no adequate justice has ever been rendered to the
nobleness, the practical wisdom, and the generosity
of soul, which are apparent in every act and decision
of the great founder of the English Constitution.
LONDON,
November 1860.
CON TENTS.
CHAPTER. I.-A.D. 1066–1239.
PAGE
THE TYRANNY ſº e º ſº l
CHAPTER II.-A.D. 1239–1258.
THE TRANSITION . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
CHAPTER III.-A.D. 1258–1267.
THE CONVULSION . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
CHAPTER IV.-A.D. 1268–1272.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS . . . . . . . . 78
CHAPTER. W.
I.—A.D, 1272–1278.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING : CoRONATION.—PARLIAMENT.
—FIRST SEVEN YEARS . . . . . . . . . . 90
II.-A.D. 1279–1284.
THE STATUTE OF MORTMAIN.—INSURRECTION IN WALES.—
WALEs subDUED.—STATUTES OF WALEs . . . . 119
III.-A.D. 1284–1290.
VISIT TO THE CoNTINENT.—TRIAL OF THE JUDGES.— .
DEATH OF THE QUEEN . . . . . . . . . . 140
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CONTENTS. xvii
CHAPTER XIV.—A.D. 1306–1307.
PAGE
ROBERT BRUCE.-HIS ASSASSINATION of CoMyN.—ExAS-
PERATION OF EDWARD.—WAR RENEWED.—DEATH
OF TEIE ISING & © e & e dº o o º º © ſº o © 362
A PP E N ID IX.
DESCENT OF PRINCE EDWARD . . . . . . . . 422
*
THE CLEMENCY OF EDWARD . . . . . . . . 424
B.
THE STORY OF ELEANOR's HEROISM . . . . . 425
C.
ON THE RISE of PARLIAMENTS IN ENGLAND . . 426
THE ALLEGED “MASSACRE OF THE BARDs” . . . 431
FICTIONS OF THE SCOTTISH HISTORIANs. . . . . 433
F.
THE STORMING OF BERWICK . . . . . . . . 438
G.
EDWARD's OBTESTATION . . . . . . . . . . 488
H.
THE NATURE OF WALLACE's SWAY IN SCOTLAND . 439
T.
WALLACE's RAVAGE OF THE NORTHERN Counties . 440
J.
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOIN . . . . . . . . . 441
K.
EDWARD OF CARNARVON . . . . . . . . . . 442
CLAIMANTs of THE CROWN OF SCOTLAND . . . . 444
º
EDWARD's ALLEGED AMBITION AND WINDICTIVENESS 445
N.
O. THE RELIGIOUs TonF OF EDWARD's CHARACTER . 447
A YEAR's ExPENDITURE OF THE KING . . . . . . 451
ORIGIN AND GROWTH OF THE ENGLISH LEGISLATURE . 454
ORIGIN AND GROWTH OF ENGLISH LEGISLATION . . . 456
Čht ©reatest of all the plantagenets,
CHAPTER THE FIRST.
T H E T Y. R A N N Y.
A.D. 1066–1239.
THERE is no fact upon which historians are more
entirely agreed, or upon which the evidence is more
abundant, than that of the grinding nature of the
Norman tyranny. Unlike the Saxons, who drove tile
Britons into the mountains and re-peopled the land,
the Normans were content to hold England as a
conquered possession. Yet they regarded the people
with contempt and aversion, and any amalgamation
of the two races must have appeared impossible.
“The English were oppressed : they rebelled, were
subdued, and oppressed again. Their risings were
without concert, and desperate. They wanted men
fit to head them, and fortresses to sustain their revolt.
After a few years they sank in despair, and yielded
for a century to the indignities of a small body of
strangers without a single tumult.” “The name
of Englishman was turned into a reproach. None
of that race for a hundred years were raised to any
dignity in the state or the church. Their language
B
2 THE TYRANNY.
and the character in which it was written were
rejected as barbarous.*.”
The effect of this state of things is shewn by a
few statistical details. “In the days of Edward
the Confessor, York had 1607 inhabited houses;
Oxford, 721; Derby, 243 ; Chester, 487. At the
compilation of Domesday-book, York had but 967;
Oxford, 243; Derby, 140; Chester, 282.”
Yet this dismal period must have had its darker
and its brighter days. Some of the Norman kings
were wiser and less ruthless than others; but still
the yoke grew increasingly heavy. None of these
rulers affected any love for England,-none of them
ever thought of it as a home. “Out of a reign of
six-and-thirty years, Henry I. spent no more than
five uneasy summers in his realm of England.”
Henry II. was born in France, and died there. He
was in Normandy when the English crown devolved
upon him ; and we notice his presence there in six-
and-twenty different years of his reign, which ter-
minated by his death at Chinon in 1189. His
successor, Richard, out of his reign of nine years,
spent only a few months in his English dominions.
Still, these Norman dukes deemed, and justly deemed,
their hold upon England to be in no sense a pre-
carious one. The conquered kingdom was well gar-
risoned. Every district was occupied by a Norman
captain of approved valour, who held his estate by
the tenure of military Service, and was answerable
for the tranquillity, or at least the quiet, of the ter-
ritory which he had received of his chief. Such
was the Conqueror's system, when he first took
* Hallam.
THE TYRANNY. 3
possession of the realm. “To Hugh de Abrincis,
he gave the whole county of Chester; to the earl of
Mortaigne, 97.3 manors; to the earl of Brittany,
442; to Odo, his half-brother, 439; to earl War-
renne, 298, with 28 towns or hamlets; to Henry
de Ferrers, 222,” and in like manner to many
others. The Bruces, one of whom afterwards seized
upon the crown of Scotland, obtained more than
40,000 acres of land in Yorkshire.
These Norman knights, for their own security
and grandeur, immediately began to build castles on
their newly-acquired possessions. The poor people
were thus compelled to toil in the dreary labor
of forging their own chains. A chronicler of the
period thus describes the process:—“They filled the
land full of castles, cruelly oppressing the wretched
people with castle-work. And when the castles were
built, they filled them with devils and wicked men.
They took those whom they supposed to have any
goods, and shut them up, and inflicted on them un-
utterable tortures”.”
Doubtless, during the reigns of the wisest of the
Norman kings, and also wherever the knight or
baron of the district had any tinge of humane feeling,
the people must have experienced some relief. But,
on the whole, the burdens of the nation grew con-
tinually more intolerable. In the time of Stephen,
the castles had increased to the number of eleven
hundred. And the uniform tenor of the English
chronicles, from the Conquest to the death of king
John, is of the most mournful and despairing cha-
racter. Properly to understand the general despon-
* Saaron Chronicle, A.D. 1137.
B 3
4 THE TYRANNY.
dency, we must cast a glance over a few of their
complainings:—
“ England could not breathe under the burdens
laid upon it. The king's minions seized on and sub-
verted everything; committing the most violent out-
rages with impunity. He ruined his neighbours by
extortion ; and his own people by continual fines,
levies, and exactions*.” “God sees the wretched
people most unjustly oppressed: first they are de-
spoiled of their possessions ; and then butchered.
This (1124) was a grievous yeart.” “Man rose up
against man,—discord was rife through the land,
wasting the substance of both high and low. Every
one spoiled his neighbour's goods. The powerful
oppressed the weak: death is the lot of him who
resists. The wealthy nobles store their castles with
provisions, and garrison them with armed bands;
and care little for the oppressions to which the
wretched sufferers without are exposed f.” “There
were many castles in England, each professedly
defending the neighbourhood ; but, really, laying it
waste. The garrisons seized sheep and cattle when-
ever they chose. Sometimes arresting such yeomen
as were Supposed to have money, they compelled
them by torture to promise a ransom. It was dis-
tressing to see England, once the home of peace and
tranquillity, reduced to such a pitch of misery that
not even the bishops or monks could pass in safety
from one town to another?.” “The whole aspect
of England presented a scene of calamity and sorrow,
misery and oppression. A crowd of fierce strangers,
* Henry of Huntingdon, A.D. 1100. # Saaron Chronicle.
; Florence of Worcester. § William of Malmesbury.
THE TYRANNY. 5
who had flocked to England to take service in the
wars, were scattered among the people. These men
were devoid of all bowels of mercy or feelings of
humanity. Dwelling in the castles, their sole business
was, to devise and carry out the most flagrant out-
rages. As the barons who employed them were not
able to find them regular pay, they had recourse to
the neighbouring towns, or monasteries, or any other
places which their force enabled them to tyrannize
over.” “On one occasion, the town of Cambridge,
taken by surprise, was plundered ; the churches bro-
ken open and rifled, and the place set on fire. This
was perpetrated by Geoffrey de Mandeville; who also
broke into the abbey of Ramsey, stripped the altars,
and expelled the monks, filled it with soldiers, and
made it a fortress. Yet this Geoffrey was a man of
note and power, who was often the king's represent-
ative ; holding the Tower of London, and having
castles in many places”.”
John must be reckoned the last of the Norman
kings; and, as our great modern historian has well
remarked, we owe to his weakness the vast benefit
of a severance of the connection between England
and Normandy. The change was total, and of the
highest moment. For a century and a half, England
had groaned under an essentially foreign yoke. “The
Conqueror and his descendants to the fourth genera-
tion were not Englishmen, most of them were born
in France; they spent the greater part of their lives
in France; their ordinary speech was French ; and
almost every high office in their gift was filled by
a Frenchmani.” With John, this state of things
* Acts of King Stephen. # Macaulay, vol. i., p. 14.
6 THE TYRANNY.
came to an end. For the first time for a hundred and
fifty years, England now received a king who was not
a Norman. Born at Winchester, and knowing nothing
of Normandy but as we ourselves know it, Henry III.
came by degrees to think of himself as “an English-
man.”
Yet we cannot date the commencement of Our
English history from the commencement of his reign;
nor can we assign to him the distinction of having
been the first English king. His reign was a period
of transition; and it was not until a considerable
portion of it had passed over, that he began to shew
a fondness for Saxon traditions, and a desire to
reckon himself among the descendants of Alfred and
Edward the Confessor. A weak, good-natured, but
vacillating man, he was ruled alternately by his Sa-
voyard and Poitevin relatives; and the struggles and
perils of his reign arose chiefly from the jealousy
felt by the old Norman barons of the rising power
of these new favorites.
Lord Macaulay has well described the splendid
period of English history which will presently come
before us, in the following terms:—“It was during the
thirteenth century that the great English people was
formed. Then first appeared with distinctness that
Constitution which has ever since preserved its
identity. Then it was that the house of Commons,
the archetype of all the representative assemblies
which now meet, held its first sittings. Then it was
that the Common Law rose to the dignity of a science;
then, that our most ancient Colleges and Halls were
founded ; and then was formed a language, in force,
in richness, and in aptitude, inferior to the tongue of
Greece alone.” Another writer adds, that “it was
THE TYRANNY. 7
this age, of all ages, to which every Englishman
ought to look back with the deepest reverence. In
this thirteenth century our Constitution, our laws,
and our language, all assumed a form which left
nothing for future ages to do, but to improve the
detail.” These representations are true ; but they
are not true of the troubled and distracted reign of
the third Henry. John, the basest and worst of
kings, performed for us the good work of setting
England free from Normandy; and his weak, but
well-meaning son, began to regard the realm as an
independent monarchy; but to achieve the great
works which have just been described, a more pow-
erful hand was needed. Henry III. was not “the
first English king;” but his reign was the link or
isthmus between the tyranny which was expiring,
and the constitutional monarchy which was about
to commence ; and in that light we must consider
some of the chief events of his long and troublous
reign.
Henry had married, in 1236, the daughter of the
count of Provence. Peter Langtoft thus describes
her :—
“The erle's dauhter of Provence; the fairest May of life :
Her name is Helianore, of gentle nurture,
Beyond the seas there was none such creature.”
As Henry's reign is the first in which we hear of a
Poet Laureate, it is probable that we owe the idea to
this queen; who was herself addicted to poetry, and
from whose pen, it is said, there is a poem still pre-
served in the Royal Library of Turin.
It was in 1239 that queen Eleanor gave birth to
her eldest son, under circumstances which seemed to
8 THE TYRANNY.
mark the commencement or the approach of a new
era. The Norman kings were usually of Norman
birth ; only latterly had one or two first seen the
light at Oxford or at Winchester. But now, for the
first time after the lapse of centuries, an heir to the
English throne was born in the metropolis of the
realm. In the king's palace at Westminster, on the
night of June 17-18, the queen presented her husband
with a son, who afterwards became “the greatest
of his race.” And now we perceive the ruling bent
of the king's mind, at that moment. He instantly
gave to this, his eldest son, the name of Edward,
“after the glorious king and confessor,”—says the
old chronicler,-4 Edward, whose body rests in the
church of St. Peter,” immediately adjoining. That
day, the 18th of June,—afterwards to be rendered
doubly memorable in the annals of England,-was a
day of general rejoicing in the capital city. The
nobles of the kingdom, says Matthew Paris, hastened
to offer their congratulations; and not the least
enthusiastic were the citizens of London, who were
delighted that the prince was born among them.
The city was illuminated, that night, with large
lanthorns; bands of music were called into requisition;
and, as the season was favorable, dancing and other
sports marked it as a day of general rejoicing.
The kind of feeling which was excited by the birth
of an English prince in the English metropolis, and
by the king's evident desire to connect the young
heir to the throne with his Saxon ancestors, is shewn
in the Worcester Chronicle of that date. The fact is
thus significantly described :-
“On the 14th day of the calends of July (June 18),
Eleanor, queen of England, gave birth to her eldest
THE TYRANNY. 9
son, Edward;—whose father was Henry ; whose
father was John ; whose father was Henry ; whose
mother was Matilda the empress; whose mother was
Matilda, queen of England; whose mother was Mar-
garet, queen of Scotland; whose father was Edward;
whose father was Edmund Ironside ; who was the
son of Ethelred ; who was the son of Edgar; who
was the son of Edmund ; who was the son of Edward
the elder; who was the son of Alfred.”
Thus the old chronicler, whose thoroughly English
feeling is everywhere apparent, passes over in utter
silence the Norman kings. Edward is accepted as
an English prince, because his lineage can be traced
to Edmund Ironside, to Alfred, and thus, finally to
Egbert, the founder of the Anglo-Saxon line of kings.
It was this feeling, doubtless, which generally per-
vaded the public mind; and the king's hearty
reciprocation of it, by his instant reference to
Edward the Confessor, filled the people with joy;
called forth the Songs, the dances, the illuminations,
of the moment; and implanted in the popular heart
and soul a predilection for this “English prince,”
which never failed or suffered diminution, during the
long period of almost seventy years.
Henry’s reign seems, as we have said, the isthmus
or link between the days of the Norman tyranny and
that constitutional monarchy which arose in the days
of his son. But it is not easy to fix a date for the
commencement of this transition. It would not be
strictly accurate to place it in the first year of his
reign ; for a long time passed over before any change
of system became apparent. Not until he had reigned
more than twenty years; not until his marriage and
the birth of his eldest son, did Henry begin to shew
IO THE TYRANNY.
a wish to abandon the Norman traditions; and to
carry his own and his people's thoughts to Anglo-
Saxon times. For these reasons it seems to us, that
one of the most rational dates that can be assigned
for the commencement of this great transition, is that
of prince Edward’s birth.
CHAPTER THE SECOND.
T H E T R A N S IT I O N.
A.D. 1239—1258.
WE have reckoned, with the best English his-
torians, John to have been the last of the Norman
kings. We have recognized, with the same authorities,
the thirteenth century as the period when the England
of modern times first began to assume the character
and lineaments which she has ever since worn. But,
for so great a change, a period of transition was
necessary. That period is found in the latter portion
of the third Henry’s reign, and some of its features
are first discernible about the time of the birth of his
eldest son. The record left of this event, by the
principal historian of the time, runs thus:—
“This year (A.D. 1239), Edward, the eldest son of
the lord Henry the king and Eleanor the queen, was
born at Westminster on the 17th of June, late at
night; and he was called Edward, which name he
received after the most glorious king and confessor,
Edward, whose body rests in the church of St. Peter,
at Westminster: and, four days after, the lord
Otho, at that time legate, baptized him in the church
of the convent. He was borne to the font by the
lords Robert*, bishop of London, William, bishop
of Carlisle, the bishop elect of Norwich, the lord
Richard, brother of the king and earl of Cornwall;
* Or Roger, according to M. Paris.
12 THE TRANSITION.
Simon de Montfort, earl of Leicester; Henry de
Bohun, earl of Hereford and Essex; Simon, arch-
deacon of Norwich; Almeric, earl of St. Amand ;
with the countess of Pembroke, and many other
noble ladies”.”
The birth of the young prince gave occasion for
the exhibition of two of the worst points of Henry’s
character, his thoughtless fickleness, and his un-
kingly mendicancy. At the baptism of the young
prince, one of the chief persons present was Simon
de Montfort, son of the great Albigensic crusader.
He had married the king's sister, and might, there-
fore, very naturally claim to assist at the baptism of
his wife's nephew. Yet, when he presented himself,
a few weeks after, at the ceremony of the churching
of the queen, the king assailed him with the bitterest
reproaches; accused him of perjury, and of gaining
the princess's affections unlawfully ; and, finally,
drove him from his presence with many threats.
The earl, with natural indignation, took the princess,
his wife, and embarked almost immediately for the
continent. This was only one among many quarrels
between Henry and his able and ambitious brother-
in-law. Yet, at intervals, the king appeared recon-
ciled to him ; trusted him, and placed him in
positions of power and authority. In the end, the
patience of the earl was exhausted; and he, who
might have been Henry’s most valuable subject and
servant, became, in the end, his rival and his master.
Equally foolish, and equally fatal, was the king's
reckless waste of, and eager craving for, money. He
had a taste for splendour and magnificence, without
* Matthew of Westminster.
THE TRANSITION. 13
the least talent for financial affairs. Hence his
whole reign was one long series of pecuniary trou-
bles. His estates and his ordinary revenues were
insufficient to satisfy the greedy demands of the
Savoyard dependents on Eleanor the queen, and the
Poitevins, his half-brothers, who had been sent to
England by his own mother: consequently, any oppor-
tunity by which money could be obtained, was ea-
gerly seized by Henry. It was the custom of the
times for rich gratulatory presents to be made, on
occasion of such a birth as that of the prince. The
king sought for such presents, at this moment, with
such urgent avidity, as to give occasion to the re-
mark, -“God has given us a prince, but the king
sells him to us.”
These two faults in Henry’s character, his rash
and fickle impulsiveness, and his entire inability to
understand the conduct of his financial affairs,
made his reign a lengthened course of difficulty and
dishonor. Yet his character was not destitute of
more pleasing features. His failings partly arose
out of a too kind and facile disposition. He was
not ambitious, nor tyrannical, nor revengeful. He
was fond of architecture and the fine arts. Several
of our noblest cathedrals were upreared in his reign ;
and England saw in him, for the first time for two
hundred years, a king who was both faithful to his
consort, and beloved by his children.
The year which followed prince Edward’s birth
was a notable one in several respects. After causing
an oath of fealty to the young heir to the crown to
be publicly taken by the principal nobility, great
prelates, and the leading citizens of London, the
king attended, first, the consecration of the Temple
14 THE TRANSITION.
church, as it now stands; and, soon after, that of
the cathedral church of St. Paul, an enormous pile,
which perished in the fire of London, and which far
exceeded, in all its dimensions, the temple which
Sir Christopher Wren upreared in its room. Mean-
While, Westminster Abbey, during the greater part
of this king's reign, was slowly but constantly ad-
Vancing. It is at this period that the “Norman’
style ceases; and the “Early English ’’ takes its
place.
The king's taste for Saxon recollections grew
more and more predominant. The name selected for
his second son, was that of “Edmund,” the grandson
of King Alfred. About the same time, also, he
resolved to prepare a new and splendid shrine for
the reception of the remains of “the glorious king
and confessor, Edward,” after whom he had named
his eldest son. The work was entrusted to the best
artists that England could supply; and was, for
centuries, one of the richest ornaments of that noble
church in which the last Saxon king lay buried.
A great change, then, has taken place, or rather,
has commenced, in the temper and modes of thought,
of the governing classes in England. Normandy,
formerly the power which governed England, is now
scarcely ever named; and even Gascony, the remaining
English province of France, is neglected. Home
projects, English interests, have now a decided prefer-
ence. The king is a sincerely religious man, and the
church has great influence with him. Besides a pro-
digious expenditure on several noble cathedrals,
great sums are laid out, in every part of England, on
abbeys and monasteries of every kind. Festivals are
frequently mentioned, on the occasion of the com-
THE TRANSITION. 15
mencement or completion of some of these works.
And it is evident that these gatherings, to which
both Saxons and Normans must have been invited,
must have greatly tended to that fusion of the races,
and abatement of the old animosities, which we know
to have been at this time going on.
Henry's care for his son, and his early provision
for his education, are indicated in Some of the records
which still remain. As early as in the year 1242,
we find an order in these terms:—
“Pay out of our Treasury, to Hugh Giffard and
William Brun, £200, for the support of Edward, our
son, and his attendants residing with him at our
castle of Windsor’s.” And, in 1246, when prince
Edward was in his seventh year, and his brother still
younger, Hugh Giffard's death is noticed, and he is
styled “a nobleman of the household, and preceptor
to the princesſ.” It was in the following year that
prince Edward was seized with a dangerous illness;
and the king wrote to all the religious houses near
London, requesting their prayers for his recovery.
We are not informed who succeeded to Hugh
Giffard's post, but there can be no doubt that it was
quickly filled. Two men of great talent and ability
are found in attendance on the prince while in Pales-
tine; and they were both churchmen. Burnell
became bishop of Bath and Wells, and chancellor;
and Anthony Beck obtained the bishopric of Durham.
The first was the prince's chaplain and private Secre-
tary; and both are named executors in the will made
at Acre, in 1271, after the attempt on his life. It is
probable that one or both had some share in his
* Devon's Issues of the Eachequer, p. 18. f Matthew Paris.
16 TEIE TRANSITION.
education. That his tutor must have been a church-
man, we know, from the impossibility of finding a
competent person in any other walk of life. We find,
too, throughout Edward’s whole course, the clearest
indications of such a training. He was always a
devout man, frequent in pilgrimages, religious retire-
ments, and such observances; although he could
firmly withstand the pretensions of the clerical order
when carried to excess. In his letters, too, and in
his conversation, the language of Holy Scripture is
ever in his mouth. His reading appears to have been
chiefly confined to the Old Testament; and Joshua,
Moses, and David, seem to have been his great
exemplars. Whenever his justice, in after-life, seems
to wear a character of sternness, we generally find
that some passage from the Old Testament is pre-
dominant in his mind.
A few years pass over, and the young prince has
become a youth of fine stature, frequently spoken of
as “Edward with the flaxen hair.” The king was
evidently both fond and proud of him, and he seized
the earliest opportunity of giving him a position
of importance. This opportunity was soon found.
Guienne, though a noble possession, had been
treated in a careless and neglectful spirit. For some
years back its government had been given to the
king's brother, Richard, earl of Cornwall, who is
chiefly remarkable in history for his enormous wealth,
and for his attempt on the imperial crown. Richard
went to Bourdeaux, and received the homage of the
Gascons; and continued for Some years to hold the
government. But, as the young prince began to rise
towards manhood, Henry desired his brother to relin-
quish his post, that he might be able, after a While,
THE TRANSITION. 17
to confer the government on his son. Earl Richard
shewed great reluctance; whereupon the king revoked
his appointment, and expelled him from the province.
Needing, now, a man of ability, to hold the country
for him, he appointed Simon de Montfort to the govern-
ment. The earl held the post for several years ;
but the Gascons were often mutinous and discon-
tented, and it is probable that the weight of his hand
was painfully felt. The people of Bourdeaux sent
Over their archbishop, at the head of a deputation, to
bring heavy accusations against their governor. Earl
Simon, hearing of this, and knowing the fickleness
and uncertainty of Henry's temper, soon followed
them over to England, to plead his own cause.
A day being appointed, the king sat to hear the
whole matter. The Gascons stated their grievances,
and the earl replied to their charges. Matthew Paris,
who probably was himself present, tells us, that the
earl refuted and silenced the complaining parties;
but the king shewed an evident disposition to censure
or condemn him. The earl, feeling aggrieved, began
to charge the king with deserting him. The king,
full of anger, let fall the word “traitor.” The earl,
“highly incensed, told the king that he lied ; and
added, that, but for his place and dignity, it should
have been an evil hour for him in which he uttered
such a word.” “The king, who could hardly contain
himself for rage, would have ordered the earl to have
been seized, had he not been aware that the nobles
present would not have allowed such a step to be
taken. Friends on each side interrupted the dispute,
and so they separated.”
It is one of those strangely-sudden changes which
mark the weakness of Henry's character, that the
C
18 - THE TRANSITION.
next circumstance narrated is, that the king pro-
posed to earl Simon to return to his government of
Gascony”. As this was, in effect, an acquittal of the
earl of all charges brought against him, he accepted
it without hesitation, and forthwith embarked for
Bourdeaux. But Henry had evidently been actu-
ated, in making this suggestion, chiefly by fear of
the earl, and a wish to secure his absence. For, as
soon as he had quitted England, “the king ordered
all the Gascons who were in London, the arch-
bishop of Bourdeaux, and others who had accom-
panied him, to assemble immediately. He then
made a public declaration, that he gave Gascony to
his eldest son, prince Edward. This step was very
acceptable to the Gascons, who at once did homage
and swore fealty to the young prince. He then made
noble presents; and they all partook of a sumptuous
feast.” But the practical operation of this absurd
proceeding was just what might have been expected.
The king had given his sanction to two different and
incompatible governments. Earl Simon had resumed
his authority, and he was a man of talent and of
martial power. But the archbishop and the rest
of the deputation, returning home, set the earl at
nought, and declared the prince to be their rightful
governor. The greatest confusion naturally took place.
It was to be expected that the Gascons would rather
side with their own archbishop than with a foreign
soldier. But the earl was fully able to maintain his
own cause. Soon, therefore, the Gascons sent over
a message to the king, that unless he came imme-
diately to Gascony in person, he would assuredly
* Or Guienne :—the two names being constantly used, in the
chronicles of the times, as if they were synonymous.
THE TRANSITION. 19
lose all his possessions there. Henry, alarmed, sent
them word that he would visit them shortly ; and that
he, in the meanwhile, revoked Earl Simon’s appoint-
ment, and absolved them from all obedience to him.
Accordingly, on the 6th of August, 1253, Henry,
after appointing the queen and earl Richard his
brother, guardians of the kingdom, embarked at
Portsmouth, accompanied by a fleet of three hundred
vessels. “The prince, after his father had kissed
and wept over him at parting, stood Sobbing on the
shore, and would not leave it so long as a sail could
be seen.” The king, having taken a considerable
force with him, quickly regained possession of all
the fortified places in Gascony ; granting mild and
favorable terms to the revolted parties. But it was
soon seen that he had ulterior views of a larger and
most extensive kind. Alfonso of Castile had some
pretensions to Gascony; and there was a party in
the province prepared to support his claim. So soon,
therefore, as tranquillity had been restored, Henry
sent into Spain the bishop of Bath, and his favorite
minister, John Mansel, to propose to the Spanish
king an amicable arrangement of their respective
rights. This was to be effected by a matrimonial
alliance between the young prince, heir to the throne
of England, and the princess Eleanor, the sister
of king Alfonso. On Such a marriage, Alfonso
might transfer to his sister, as a kind of dowry,
“whatever rights he could or might have in Gas-
cony.” This proposal was accepted, and a special
treaty or charter sealed with gold, which is now
in the Chapter-house of Westminster, was soon
brought to Henry, and received by him with great
delight. The Spanish king, however, with the state-
C 3
20 THE TRANSITION.
liness of his nation, required, “that the prince should
be sent to him, that he might examine into his skill
and knowledge, and confer knighthood upon him.”
And thus was this royal marriage agreed upon, in
the absence of the parties, and without any previous
acquaintance having existed between them. But, of
all the marriages of this kind which are upon record,
there is probably no one which was productive of
more mutual happiness than this of Edward and
Eleanor. The qualities, both of mind and person,
possessed by the young prince and princess, must
have chiefly contributed to this result.
The king having communicated the news of his
success to his consort, queen Eleanor began, early
in 1254, to make preparations for a voyage, with her
son, into Gascony. One incident, which occurred in
the course of these preparations, seems to evince the
existence of a loyal attachment, either to the young
prince, or to the royal family generally. The people
of Winchelsea had prepared some ships for the Ser-
vice of the queen ; but those of Yarmouth fitted out
and sent to Winchelsea a large and handsome vessel,
well armed, and manned with thirty skilful seamen,
to be at the service of the prince himself. The Win-
Chelsea men, enraged at being outdone, got up a
quarrel, made a sudden attack, and succeeded in
burning the Yarmouth vessel. The queen, annoyed
at this quarrel, but concealing her annoyance as
much as she could, determined to embark at Ports-
mouth, from which place she took her departure on
the 29th of May, under the guardianship of the
archbishop of Canterbury, her uncle; having with
her, her two sons, Edward and Edmund; attended
by forty knights, and a noble retinue. She reached
THE TRANSITION. 21
Bourdeaux in safety; and from thence proceeded
across the Pyrenees to Burgos, where she arrived
On the 5th of August, 1254. Alfonso was much
pleased with the personal appearance and qualities of
the young prince. Edward’s bride, Eleanor of Cas-
tile, was well suited to him in personal loveliness.
The effigies of her which are still extant, suffice to
place this beyond a doubt.
The marriage festivities being concluded, the
prince returned, with his bride, to his father at
Bourdeaux. The king, with natural delight, but with
his usual disregard of expense, prepared So grand a
festival for his son's reception, as to excite the in-
dignation of some of the English lords, who could
easily foresee the consequences which would follow.
Henry returned to England laden with debts, in-
curred during his stay in Gascony, which exceeded
300,000 marks.
Still, on his way home, he could not be restrained
from similar indulgences of his passion for splendour
and magnificence. He paid a visit to Louis of France,
who had only recently been released from his cap-
tivity in Palestine. “Henry had in his own retinue
a thousand horses ridden by men of dignity and rank,
besides waggons and sumpter-horses.” Louis as-
signed to him for a lodging the Old Temple, in which
building, says Matthew Paris, “there was sufficient
room to lodge an army.” Here, Henry's first order
was, that as many poor as the place would accommo-
date should have a feast. Next, a sumptuous banquet
was prepared for the kings, queens, nobles, and “all
comers.” Matthew of Westminster says, “there were
present at this banquet, the two kings with their
queens, twenty-five dukes, twelve bishops, eighteen
22 THE TRANSITION.
countesses, and, of illustrious knights, a host.” The
next day Henry sent to the French nobles at their
abodes, “ rich cups, gold clasps, silk belts, and other
princely presents.”
After a few days the English took their leave,
king Louis accompanying them a day's journey.
Henry was detained by the weather at Boulogne;
but reached Dover at the commencement of the new
year, 1255. After So many months of costly magni-
ficence, he had now to face an accumulation of debt
which, as he himself said, “it was horrible to think
of.” After his usual manner, he immediately began
to demand and to exact money from the Jews, from
the city of London, and from the clergy. But about
Easter he was forced, however unwillingly, to ask an
aid from a parliament, Summoned on the occasion,
to discharge some of the debts which, as he pleaded,
he had been forced to incur in quieting the disturb-
ances in Gascony.
The young prince and princess did not come to
England with the king. The prince was, in some
sense, the king's lieutenant or governor in Gascony;
and he seems to have remained there for more than
a twelvemonth, to make himself acquainted with the
province and its circumstances. The young princess
preceded him in her journey by about a month. She
landed at Dover, with a great retinue, in October,
1255, and reached London on the 17th of that month.
She was received with great state by the king, the
nobles, the lord mayor, and chief citizens, who went
out in a great procession to meet her, and who es-
corted her to the palace of Westminster. The prince
arrived in England in the last week of November,
and he then, With the princess, took up his abode at
THE TRANSITION. 23
the palace of the Savoy. The next Whitsuntide we
find him at Blythe ; where a tournament was held,
and where the prince, clad in light armour, attended
for further instruction in the laws and usages of
chivalry. In August, his sister, the young queen of
Scotland, with her husband, paid a visit to the
English court; and king Henry's fondness for splen-
dour and magnificence was again exhibited. The
Scottish king and queen were first received at the
palace of Woodstock, where, such was the concourse
of distinguished guests, that tents and pavilions were
erected in the grounds; and Oxford and all the villages
round were thronged with the visitors. From Wood-
Stock the royal party proceeded to London, where
the citizens received them with due honor; and John
Mansel, the king's favorite minister, entertained the
whole court, with the chief prelates and nobles, at a
festival, in which the first course is stated to have
consisted of seven hundred dishes.
Prince Edward had now entered upon public life.
The king professed to give him, on his marriage,
Gascony, Ireland, Wales, and the earldom of Ches-
ter. If these provinces failed to furnish him with
a revenue of 15,000 marks, (£10,000,) the king un-
dertook to make up the deficiency. As the money of
those days requires to be multiplied by fifteen, to
bring it to our present value, this was, evidently,
a noble revenue. But then, on the other hand, the
claims upon a prince who was regarded as the ruler
of Gascony, the owner of the earldom of Chester,
and in some sort the chief lord of both Wales and
Ireland, must have been both unceasing and large.
This soon became painfully clear. In conferring
such powers and honors on the young prince, Henry
24 THE TRANSITION.
had indulged two very distinct and different feelings.
He was proud of his son, and loved to place him in
a position of honor and authority; but he also was
very ready to shift any trouble or perplexity from
his own shoulders to the shoulders of another. And
in 1257, the year after the prince's settlement in
England, the Welsh made a new inroad, breaking
into the adjacent counties of England, and spreading
devastation wherever they went. Edward was then
in his eighteenth year, and he at once carried the
news to his father, of the invasion of his earldom of
Chester. The king, with his usual dislike of trouble,
exclaimed, “What is it to me?—the land is yours
Exert yourself,-gain fame in your youth, make
your enemies fear you ; as for me, I am occupied
with other matters.”
Thus called on, the prince began to endeavour to
meet the occasion. He borrowed of his uncle, the
earl of Cornwall, 4,000 marks, and set to work to em-
body a military force. He was now often seen at the
head of two hundred horsemen. But all that he could
do was quite inadequate to cope with the power of
Wales. The Welsh had in arms, says Matthew Paris,
nearly 30,000 men, including five hundred knights,
well armed; and they had also the advantage of being
able, whenever they chose, to retreat into mountain-
fastnesses, which to the English were quite inac-
cessible. Thence, when it suited them, they poured
into Cheshire or Herefordshire, wasting everything
With fire and sword. It seems probable that, once
Or twice, the young prince, with a few hundred men-
at-arms, tried to stop their progress, and was over-
powered. This, at least, is certain, that during the
greater part of Henry's reign, the Welsh, under
THE TRANSITION. 25
Llewellyn, were formidable and dreaded neighbours
to all the neighbouring parts of England.
Henry, meanwhile, with that want of judgment
and discretion which marked his whole course, in-
stead of concerning himself with the good government
of his own kingdom, was busied in forming wild
schemes with reference to France. The Welsh wasted
with fire and sword his western border; but he was
occupied in laying plans for the recovery of Nor-
mandy, which had been lost half a century before
by the folly of his father. “The king sent,” says
the chronicler, “the bishop of Worcester, the bishop
elect of Winchester, the earl of Leicester, the earl
marshal, and Peter of Savoy, on a special embassy
to the king of France, to make some arrangements
for the restoration of the possessions which belonged
to the crown of England in time of old.” Evidently,
to expect that France, strong and at peace, would
quietly relinquish a noble province like Normandy,
was utterly unreasonable. We read, without sur-
prise, that “the embassy met with nothing but hard
speeches and threats, and a flat refusal ’’ even to
entertain the question. Louis, however, was so far
alarmed by the application, as to order all the Nor-
man castles to be put into a state of defence; and
committed to the care of trustworthy persons; al-
though England was in no condition to undertake, at
that moment, an invasion of France.
It is to this period, doubtless, that we must refer
the MS. ballad which is found in the Royal Library
at Paris%, some of the verses of which are as
follows:—
* Bibl. du Roi. No. 7218, fo. 220, v".
26 THE TRANSITION.
“De ma ray d’Ingleters qui fu ä bon naviaus,
Chivaler vaelant, hardouin, et l’aus,
Et d'Adouart sa filz qui fi blont sa chaviaus,
Mai covint que je faites j. dit troute noviaus.”
Further on, Henry says—
“ (P)ar la v. plais à Diex, Parris fout vil mult grant
Il i a .i. chapel dont je fi coetant;
Je le ferra portier, a..i. charrier rollant,
A Saint Amont à Londres toute droit en estant.
“Quant j'arra Soz Parris mené tout me naviaus,
Je ferra le moustier Saint Dinis la Chanciaus
Corronier d’Adouart Soz sa blonde chaviaus.
La Voudra vous toer de vaches à porciaus.
“Je crai que vous verra lä endret grosse fest,
Quant d'Adouart arra corroné France test.
Il l’a bien asservi, ma fil; il n'est pas best;
Il fout buen chivaler, hardouin, et homestik.”
Henry's fondness for his son, as well as his utter
want of judgment and discretion, is apparent in this
wild scheme of setting him on the throne of France.
The sad reality was in terrible contrast to this
dreamy romance. While he was scheming the con-
quest of France, the little principality of Wales was
setting England at defiance. The prince was left to
defend Chester and Hereford from their attacks, with
no other force than a few hundreds of disorderly men-
at-arms; and with no funds even for the support of
this petty force, except what he could raise by
pledging his lordships to his uncle. The king at last
awakened to the danger; he called together his mili-
* See Political Songs. Camden Society. P. 68.
THE TRANSITION. 27
tary tenants, and proceeded with something like an
army to seek out and chastise the Welsh. But their
usual tactics were immediately resorted to. They
retreated into their mountain-fastnesses; and the
English army, after suffering much from cold and
hunger, was forced to withdraw. There can be no
doubt, however, that it was the experience gained in
these unsatisfactory struggles, that afterwards ena-
bled Edward, at the beginning of his own reign, to
deal with the Welsh in the masterly and triumphant
manner which we shall presently have to describe.
Another incident which occurred about this time,
throws light upon the strongly-contrasted characters
of the king and his son. Henry had professed to
give Gascony over to the prince's care and govern-
ment; his principal object being to rid himself of
trouble. But his officers did not withdraw, but con-
tinued as before to seize quantities of wine at Bour-
deaux for the king's use. The Gascons sent over to
the prince to make complaints, and to ask redress.
Edward went at once to his father; and declared
that “he would not tolerate such proceedings.”
“The king,” adds the chronicler, “with a deep sigh,
exclaimed, “My own flesh and blood assail me !—the
times of my grandfather, against whom his own
children rebelled, are returning !’” But the prince,
certain of the justice of the complaint, was firm, and
Henry was forced to promise that these wrong-
doings should cease.
These two princes, the father and the son, were
each now taking that place, and manifesting that cha-
racter, which they were respectively to occupy in the
page of history. The weaknesses of the king, his
impulsive unguardedness and want of control, were
28 THE TRANSITION.
becoming more and more manifest ; while his son
was rapidly maturing, in judgment, discretion, firm-
ness of character, and an unvarying love of justice.
Henry’s unkingly acts, his rashness, and his mean-
ness, frequently manifest themselves at this period.
In a council held in London in 1255, he had an
altercation with the earl marshal, whom in his
passion he called “a traitor.” The earl replied,
as Leicester had done on a former occasion, by
giving the king the lie ; and by challenging him to
say what offence he had committed, or with what
sentence he could visit him. “I can send and seize
your corn,” said the king, “ and thresh and sell it !”
“Yes!” replied the earl, “and I can send you the
heads of the threshers l’” On another occasion, one
of the judges, Sir Henry de Bath, had been so fla-
grantly corrupt, that he was accused in a parliament
held in London, of having seized a man’s estate to
his own use; and of having released a convicted
criminal for a sum of money. The judge knew his
case to be so indefensible, that he came to the parlia-
ment attended by many powerful friends; one of
whom, a knight, offered wager of battle to any of his
accusers. In the course of the altercation the king's
passions were so roused, that he exclaimed, “If any
one shall kill Henry of Bath, he shall be quit of
his death, and I declare him quit of the same !”
But Mansel, the king's chief minister, interposed,
saying, that the king, doubtless, on reflection, would
be sorry for that speech. Finally, the judge was
permitted to depart, and on paying a heavy fine, he
was pardoned.
And, when even the judges of the land were thus
corrupt, it was inevitable that disorders should
THE TRANSITION. 29
abound in other quarters. We learn, therefore, with-
out any surprise, that “the whole county of Hamp-
shire swarmed with felons and murderers;” until,
at last, “the king was obliged himself to sit on the
bench of justice at Winchester, trying and sentencing
the offenders; many of whom were wealthy, and
some of them his own servants.”
Yet there were brighter, as well as darker, parts
of the picture. Churches, abbeys, and cathedrals,
rose on every side. In 1258, the splendid cathedral
of Salisbury was consecrated. “On the day following
the feast of Michaelmas,” says Matthew Paris, “the
church of Salisbury was dedicated by Boniface, arch-
bishop of Canterbury, in the presence of the king,
and a numerous body of the prelates; the bishop
providing entertainment for all that came.” The
foundation of the church had been laid in the fourth
year of Henry’s reign, A.D. 1220. We have already
remarked the tendency of these celebrations to help
forward that amalgamation of the races which was
now going on. The consecration of a cathedral,—
the ordinary services of a cathedral,—the festivities
attending its consecration,-could not be confined
to a few Norman knights and their retainers. The
people who thronged together on these occasions by
thousands, must have been the English people, who
were chiefly Saxon. And a reign of more than fifty
years, spent in the cultivation of such tastes as
these, must have done much to produce that fusion
of races which first begins to be evident in the
conflict which will form the subject of the next
chapter.
Meanwhile, however, the weaknesses and foibles
of this weak but well-meaning king, were rapidly
30 THE TRANSITION.
bringing on that conflict. During all the latter
half of his reign, Henry was deeply involved in debt.
Repeatedly did he bring his wants and distresses
before councils and parliaments; and at last it
became a common thing for him to receive complaints
and reproaches instead of money. Thus, at a par-
liament held in 1248, “the king was severely blamed,”
says Matthew Paris, “for the indiscreet way in which
he invited foreigners into the kingdom, and for
lavishing his property and revenues on them. Also,
that he appointed to the great offices, only such
persons as served his pleasure in every way, not
seeking the public weal, but only their personal
advantage.” This discontent with the king's con-
duct, and with the conduct of his ministers, led the
parliament, more than once or twice, to refuse the
king's application, and to resolve upon granting no
“aid " or “benevolence.” These refusals often drove
Henry to downright mendicancy. At one time he
would write to men of substance in such terms as
these :—“I am a poor man, and entirely destitute of
money; and I find it necessary to ask for assistance.
I do not exact anything, but ask it as a favor. Who-
ever will do me this kindness, to him I will requite
it as opportunity offers; while, whoever refuses me,
to him will I also give a denial in my turn.” At
other times he would economize in his household
expenses, by paying visits, with the queen, to nobles
or other wealthy persons; all of whom were made to
understand, that the king expected Some rich present,
when he did a subject So much honor.
During all the latter half of Henry's reign, he
suffered every kind of humiliation from pecuniary
embarrassment. His applications to councils or
THE TRANSITION. 31
parliaments were repeatedly refused or sparingly
and grudgingly responded to. They reproached him
with his prodigality, and his wasteful fondness for
“ the foreigners.” He acknowledged his fault, and
promised amendment. They sometimes even required
an oath. He gave it ; but when the necessity was
over, the pledge was forgotten, and the revenues of
the crown were again lavished on these favorites.
“It was not that Henry was by inclination a vicious
man; he had received strong religious impressions:
—though fond of parade, he avoided every Scandalous
excess; and his charity to the poor, and attention to
public worship, were deservedly admired. But his
judgment was weak, and his will, it must be added,
was often at the command of others.”
CHAPTER THE THIRD.
THE CONV ULSIO N.
A.D. 1258—1267.
WE have spoken of Henry’s reign as, unquestion-
ably, a period of transition—a period during which
the old Norman tyranny gradually disappeared, and
that system of constitutional law began to uprear
itself, which has, in the course of five hundred years,
made England
“A land of settled government;
A land of just and old renown ;
Where Freedom broadens slowly down,
From precedent to precedent.”
It was in this thirteenth century, again to cite the
testimony of the most popular of modern historians,
—that the England in which we live, with its con-
stitution, laws, language, and institutions, first began
to rise into being.
Yet it would be an error were we to pretend
to find more than the first indications of such an ap-
proaching change in the reign of this weak though
well-meaning king ; and even these faint indications
are not perceptible until the middle of Henry’s reign.
We have spoken of the birth of his two sons, and
have remarked their baptism with Saxon names, as
a circumstance indicating the bent of the king's
mind, about the twenty-fifth year of his reign. Yet
THE CONVULSION. 33
we can hardly admit the claim, which was advanced
for Henry in his epitaph, of being “truly an Eng-
lishman,” in the face of the notorious fact, that
a fearful conflict arose, between the fortieth and
fiftieth years of his long reign, which conflict was
brought on chiefly by the king's unconcealed prefer-
ence for “foreigners.”
And what a strange and startling fact is this,
and how pregnant will it be found, when thought-
fully considered, with consequences of momentous
import. For several years the king never met
his council or parliament without being reproached
with his predilection for “foreigners.” What a
transition, or rather, what a total change, is here
implied
For, had not England been ruled, in the most
absolute manner, for nearly two centuries past, by
those whose greatest boast it was, that they were
in all respects, foreigners ? Out of seven kings
who succeeded each other, in turn, upon the throne
of England, had not all but one received birth in
France 2 And among their followers, during all these
generations, was not the name of Norman deemed a
boast, and that of Englishman, a contumely 7 We
are reminded that “May I become an Englishman if
I do!” was their ordinary imprecation; and “Do you
take me for an Englishman 2° their most indignant
denial”. What a wondrous change then, must have
taken place among these men, when they raised the
cry of “England for the English,” and banded them-
selves together to expel “all foreigners.”
Yet the chief motives for this change were suffi-
* Macaulay, vol. i. ch. i.
34 THE CONVULSION.
ciently evident. The Delacys, Bigods, Bohuns, Fer-
rerses, and others, who had shared with the Conqueror
in the invasion and partition of England, had now
been settled in their respective possessions for nearly
two hundred years; and, latterly, their intercourse
with Normandy had nearly ceased. England had
gradually become their home; the king of England
was their captain and leader; and the land of England
belonged to the king and to them. It became, there-
fore, increasingly easy for them to forget the ancient
origin of their houses, and to think and speak of
themselves as Englishmen. Meanwhile, causes of
alienation between the king, their feudal chief, and the
principal Norman barons, had occurred ; and new
rivals, recently imported from the continent, had
begun to excite their envy and resentment. John
had quarrelled with the barons, and Henry, his son,
had inherited some of his feelings of dislike and
dread for these old Norman chiefs. His marriage
with Eleanor of Provence led to a large influx of
her Savoyard connections into England; and his
mother, the widow of John, who had married the
count of Poiteau, sent her sons and other Poitevins
to seek a share in the honors and advantages of the
court of England. The king, facile and good-natured,
allowed these new favorites to monopolize all the
favors which he had it in his power to bestow; and
the great barons of England found themselves rivalled
and insulted at court, by those whom they deemed
nothing more than “foreign adventurers.”
Much of the indignation expressed by them was
doubtless genuine and sincere; but in some cases it
was evidently simulated. The great leader of the
discontented barons, Simon de Montfort, was, to all
THE CONVULSION. 35
intents and purposes, a foreigner; yet he was one of
the foremost to raise the cry against the Savoyards,
the Poitevins, and the Italians. But his own parents
were French, and the only connection of his family
with England arose from the marriage of his grand-
father, Simon the Bald, with a daughter of Blanch-
maines, earl of Leicester; after which marriage one
of the sons always set up a claim to that earldom.
This marriage took place in 1165 ; and a son of
Simon the Bald, after trying to gain the earldom of
Leicester, took up the crusade against the Albigeois,
and died count of Toulouse. His fourth son became
a soldier of fortune, and, calling himself “Earl of
Leicester,” came to England, where he gained,
clandestinely, the affections and the hand of king
Henry’s sister. The real titles and estates of the
family were in Evreux and Montfort ; and all of
them were, in England, “foreigners.”
We cannot, at the distance of five hundred years,
pretend to form a clear and positive opinion as to
earl Simon’s character. He enjoyed, in his lifetime,
vast influence and popularity; and was elevated by
the people, after his death, to the rank of a martyr.
He was, at least in profession, a very devout man;
and he probably resembled Cromwell in many of the
chief features of his character. Both were men of
great talent and force of intellect ; and both were
opposed to well-meaning but weak and deceitful
kings. It may be pleaded, as some extenuation of
their guilt, that circumstances led them into courses
which they never seriously purposed to take; and
that, like Hazael, if the future could have been pre-
dicted to them, each would have exclaimed, “Is thy
servant a dog, that he should do this thing?”
D 3
36 THE CONVULSION.
It was one of Henry's chief misfortunes, growing,
evidently, out of his mental weakness, that he never
succeeded in forming a cordial alliance with this great
earl. There was that evident shrinking, on Henry's
part, which is commonly manifested by weak minds
when brought into contact with energetic and power-
ful ones. The chroniclers tell us, that on one occasion,
when the king, in his barge, had embarked on the
Thames for a water-excursion, a thunderstorm came
on, which obliged him to seek a refuge. He landed
at the palace of the bishop of Durham, which was
then near the Strand. It so happened that earl
Simon was staying with the bishop ; and on the
approach of the king's barge, the earl went out to
meet it ; saying to the king, “There is nothing to
fear now, my lord, the storm is passing over.” The
king, annoyed at meeting him, exclaimed, with his
usual rashness, “I fear thunder and lightning not a
little ; but I fear you more than all the thunder and
lightning in the world !” To which the earl replied,
“It is strange, and most unjust, my lord, that you
should fear me, your real friend ; who have been
always faithful to you and yours;–much rather
should you fear your flatterers, who are your
greatest enemies—in fact, your destroyers.”
The time was now come, when upon the friend-
ship or enmity of this great leader the king's safety
and happiness would chiefly depend. We have al-
ready mentioned the increasing insolence of the
Welsh, and the failure of Henry’s expedition against
them. Early in 1258, the king summoned a “con-
cilium ” in London, to consider the state of affairs in
Wales, and to adopt measures for another campaign.
Thither came all the discontented barons,—the earl
THE CONVULSION. 37
marshal, and earl Simon, both of whom had already
given Henry the lie to his face, with many others
who had received affronts or injuries at his hands.
On the other side, stood in the front, those whose
aid was a Source of weakness to the king,-William
of Valence, earl of Pembroke, the chief of the
Poitevins, with his brethren, all of them hated by
the Norman lords. They were detested for their
arrogance, and envied for their wealth. For, while
the king was always poor, and always distressed for
Want of means, his nearest favorites, the earl
of Cornwall, the earl of Pembroke, John Mansel,
and others, were all enormously rich. A quarrel
might therefore be looked for; and the young prince,
then not quite nineteen years of age, was likely to be
introduced to scenes of eager and envenomed po-
litical conflict.
The king explained the state of affairs in Wales;
and urged the necessity of some immediate provision
for the ensuing campaign. William of Valence fol-
lowed, and bitterly complained of the ravages of the
Welsh in his county of Pembroke. The king, with
his usual thoughtlessness, turned upon his own fa-
vorite, and exclaimed, “Ah ! my dear brother, why
do you not help me with some of those hoarded
treasures of yours, and so relieve me from one of my
greatest difficulties 2" Pembroke, not relishing this
personal appeal, turned the discussion another way.
Earl Simon was understood to be in communication
with Llewellyn of Wales, and Pembroke replied, that
he “should not fear the Welsh, if it were not for the
traitors at home, by whom they were abetted and en-
couraged.” His glance was probably directed to-
wards Simon de Montfort, who instantly exclaimed,
38 THE CONVULSION.
“Who do you call traitors ?” “You, first of all!”
replied Pembroke, with equal pride and anger. Lei-
cester rushed upon him ; and if the king and the
other lords had not thrown themselves between,
the two earls would have joined in deadly encounter
in the royal presence.
Such a scene as this was not likely to abate the
anger of the confederated barons, who had already
proposed to themselves “the expulsion of the Poite-
wins' as one of their principal objects. The pride
and arrogance of William of Valence made that a
stedfast resolution which until then had only been
doubtfully contemplated. But the plans of earl
Simon and his friends were not yet sufficiently ma-
tured. A proposal was therefore made, which was
agreed to on both sides, that the meeting should
be adjourned for a few weeks; and that it should
reassemble at Oxford, which would be fifty miles
nearer to Wales, on the feast of St. Barnabas. On
that day, the 13th of June, the barons agreed to
meet the king, and to bring with them their proper
military contingents, So as to be prepared for a
Welsh campaign. And so the winter, or London,
sitting of this “concilium ” ended.
The 13th of June saw all the parties again in
presence of each other at Oxford. The barons had
kept their word, and had assembled their retainers,
and Oxford found itself suddenly a camp. One ac-
count states the force assembled by the barons at
60,000 men; but this is doubtless an exaggerated
estimate. Still, whether we suppose their followers
to have been 30,000 or 15,000—either number would
place the king wholly in their power. The want of
means had rendered it impossible for Henry to bring
THE CONVULSION. 39
together an army, even had he been so disposed;
but whatever his suspicion or dread of earl Simon
might have been, we discover no trace of any fore-
sight on his part of the grave events which were
about to take place. Earl Simon and his supporters,
however, came to Oxford well prepared, both to
dictate a new system of government to the king, and
also to compel his performance of the terms agreed
upon, so soon as such an agreement should have
been adopted. They followed, to a considerable ex-
tent, the course taken by the barons in the preceding
reign. John had been obliged to submit to be placed
under the control of a council of twenty-five barons.
Henry was required to resign all substantial power
into the hands of a council of twenty-four. There
was a greater apparent liberality exhibited in the
present case, inasmuch as Henry was permitted to
name twelve out of the twenty-four ; but then, on
the other hand, the cession of all real power into the
hands of this new council was more complete, in the
present instance, than it had been in the case of the
treaty of Runnymede. Unlimited authority was
given to these twenty-four barons; and the king was
required to swear that he would confirm all their
ordinances. Had he been able to bring against their
chosen twelve an equal number of men of influence
who were attached terhimself, the king might at
least have shared in the government. But scarcely
any of the nobles of the kingdom adhered to him.
His foolish fondness for his half-brothers, the Poite-
wins, and for the queen's Savoyard relations, had so
alienated the Norman lords, that all the authority of
the new council was practically wielded by earl Simon
and his friends.
.40 THE CONVULSION.
The testing question in all these discussions con-
stantly was, the possession of the castles. To have
these was to have power; to get the king's castles
into their own hands, was to have the authority of
the crown transferred to them ; and the application
of this test soon effected one of their purposes—the
expulsion of the Poitevins.
The king appears to have surrendered his sceptre
without a struggle; we do not hear of an hour's
resistance on his part. The next person called on
was the king's brother, the earl of Cornwall. He
was in Germany, but his son was present. Young
Henry, however, avowed his unwillingness to give in
his own adhesion, or his father's, till he should have
taken the earl’s pleasure. The barons consented to
a delay of forty days, peremptorily declaring, how-
ever, that if the earl did not then swear to the
“Provisions,” he should not retain an acre of land
in England.
The Poitevins, who were the parties chiefly
aimed at, were next called on. They declared with
one voice, that they would not swear to the Provi-
sions; nor would they give up one castle or one
manor that the king had bestowed upon them.
But earl Simon knew his power, and he was not
disposed to shew any tenderness in his dealings
with these insolent favorites. Meeting Pembroke's
arrogance with equal sternness, he said, “Know for
a certainty, and as a thing beyond all doubt, that
you shall either give up the castles you hold of the
king, or lose your head.” *
When matters had come to this pass, it was a
natural thing for the Poitevins to resolve upon
flight. In Oxford, surrounded on all sides by the
THE CONVULSION. 41
barons and their armed bands, they were not safe
for a single hour. Weiling their intentions, therefore,
under a convenient pretext, they fled, making for
Winchester, of which see, one of their own number,
Ethelmar, was bishop. In his castle they hoped to
find a refuge. But, the moment their flight was
discovered, the barons sent a force in pursuit. They
were overtaken, and forced to consent to leave the
realm. “They were conveyed to the sea-shore, and
put on board ship, having first been made to swear,
not to compass the hurt of England, by themselves or
others.” As soon as this expulsion had been effected,
their castles and estates were escheated and taken
into the king's (i. e., the baror 3') hands. Prince
Edward was just entering his twentieth year when
these scenes took place. We may easily imagine the
anguish they must have caused him. His father
humiliated, and in all but the name, deposed ; his
uncles banished, and their estates confiscated ; the
throne itself visibly tottering. He had warm affec-
tions, and must have endured unutterable pain, while
all these calamities were falling upon his family.
Yet, on the other hand, his mind was one distin-
guished by its remarkable uprightness and sagacity.
He could not be blind to his father's many faults and
transgressions, or deny the justice of many of the
accusations of earl Simon and his supporters. We
know of no finer instance of entire uprightness, than
his conduct at this crisis shewed. First, “the lord
Edward, being brought to it with great difficulty,
submitted himself to the ordinance and provision of
the barons.” But, secondly, when he so submitted,
he did it honestly and in good faith; not in duplicity,
purposing, like his father, or Charles I, four centuries
42 THE CONVULSION.
afterwards, to evade the fulfilment of his engage-
ments. Hard as he felt these conditions to be, he
refused, as we shall presently see, to avail himself of
the papal brief, which absolved him from his oath ;
and when his father took a sinister course, he sided
with Leicester against him. We can imagine no
more signal instance of uprightness, than was given
by this young prince ; when, after witnessing earl
Simon's triumph over his father, and his invasion of
the independence of the crown, he actually con-
curred with the earl in many of his subsequent
proceedings, and for the sake of truth and justice,
supported the rebellious lord, even against his own
parent.
The prince having yielded, and the Poitevins
having been sent out of the country, the earl
Warrenne, the only nobleman of any weight who
adhered to the king, gave in his submission also, and
so the contest, for the time, was ended.
“The Provisions of Oxford,” Sir Francis Palgrave
observes, “virtually deprived the king of the royal
authority. He still, indeed, retained the crown, and
all public enactments ran in his name; but all the
powers of government were wested in the barons.
These Provisions confirmed Magna Charta ; regu-
lated the free seisin of property; forbade the marriage
of wards with aliens, and the wasteful grants of lands
to foreigners; and required that all offices of state,
and the charge of the castles, should be given to
Englishmen only.” º
And forthwith warrants were issued, ordering the
constables of the castles of Dover, Northampton,
Nottingham, Corfe, Scarborough, Hereford, Exeter,
Sarum, Hadleigh, Winchester, Porchester, Bridge-
THE CONVULSION. 43
north, Oxford, Sherburne, Bamborough, Newcastle,
Rochester, Gloucester, Honiton, Devizes, and the
Tower of London, to deliver them up to the new
commandants therein named. The names of some
of the former constables, “Ebulo de Geneur, Walter
Bruges, Imbert Pugeis, Robert de Paytenin, Elias de
Rabaine, Nicholas de Mel, Thomas le Don, Henry de
Peneling, Jacob le Savage, Nicholas de Molis, William
de Trubieville,” &c., shew sufficiently that the royal
castles had not been in the hands of “Englishmen.”
Hugh Bigod was appointed grand justiciary—
an office apparently resembling that of our present
lord chancellor, in being set over the whole admi-
nistration of the laws. The triumphant and dominant
barons now separated, having effected, for a time at
least, a revolution.
We hear nothing of the expedition into Wales,
which had been the pretext for this gathering of
armed forces at Oxford. Probably, earl Simon, who
kept up a communication with the Welsh prince, was
able to assure the twenty-four barons, that as long as
he had the direction of affairs, there would be no
Welsh invasion.
The barons re-assembled in October, in London,
where they “sat for about a month, meeting every
day in consultation, well armed.” The support of
the city of London had been already secured; a
special deputation, consisting of earl Simon, the earl
marshal, and others, having met the mayor and alder-
men of the city at Guildhall, on the 22nd of July,
who then affixed the city seal to the Provisions of
Oxford. At the meeting of the barons, in October,
Philip Lovel, the king's treasurer, was dismissed, and
John de Crachale, archdeacon of Bedford, was
44 THE CONVULSION.
appointed in his room. Lovel died the Christmas
following, it was supposed of a broken heart. A
great many other persons holding office in the
exchequer were also discharged, and their places
filled up by the council of the barons. On the
11th of October, “the Provisions of Oxford ” were
solemnly proclaimed in every county, in Latin,
French, and English. One writer considers this
the first time that the English language was used
in any public document”.
About Christmas, the barons were considerably
disturbed by news of the expected return of earl
Bichard, the king's brother, who had been elected
king of the Romans, and who, having been abroad at
the time of the meeting of the parliament at Oxford,
had continued absent ever since. He had large
landed possessions, and naturally desired to revisit
England to look after his affairs. The council of
barons feared that he would return with a body of
followers—possibly with one or more of the Poi-
tevins—and would refuse to adhere to the Provisions
of Oxford; thus becoming the leader of a malcontent
or royalist party. They sent, therefore, a deputation
to meet the earl at Witsand, in Flanders, and to ask
of him a pledge not to interfere in public affairs, and
also some information as to the length of his stay.
At first the earl peremptorily refused to give any
such pledge, or any assurance as to the duration of
his visit. The barons, therefore, began to collect
a fleet to intercept him at Sea, and a body of forces
to oppose his landing. The earl then began to hesi-
tate, and the king was induced to write to him on the
* The Barons' War, by W. H. Blaauw: p. 63.
THE CONVULSION. 45
18th of January, 1259, to exhort him to comply with
the demands of the barons. Earl Richard accord-
ingly engaged to take the oath which the barons
tendered, immediately on his landing. He was then
allowed to land at Dover, which he reached at the
end of January ; but into that castle he was not ad-
mitted, although he was accompanied only by his
wife, his son, and a retinue of eight knights. The
king met him on his landing, and they proceeded at
once to Canterbury, where he was entertained by the
archbishop ; and the following day took an oath in
the Chapter-house, in the presence of the h ons,
“faithfully to join in reforming the kingdom o Eng-
land, and effectually to aid in expelling all disturbers
of the kingdom out of it.”
Earl Simon, it was remarked with wonder, had
been absent from all these later discussions, having
suddenly withdrawn to France. Already had a
dissension broken out among the reforming party,+
Leicester accusing Gloucester of insincerity, and the
latter “retorting with insulting speeches, the mat-
ter nearly terminating in bloodshed.” One result
of this disagreement was the failure of a treaty with
France, which had been brought to the verge of a
completion; but which, as the earl of Gloucester
alleged, the claims of the countess of Leicester to
certain rights in Normandy prevented from being
completed.
In July 1259, “Hugh Bigod, the high justiciary,
with Roger de Turkelby and Gilbert de Preston,
commenced the circuit of England, dispensing jus-
tice to all men according to their deserts.” In order
to prepare the work for them, four knights had been
appointed by the Oxford Provisions, to act as inquest-
46 THE CON VULSION.
men or grand jurymen, in each county, to discover
and bring before the justiciaries all excesses or
trespasses and wrongs done within the realm. This
was probably the chief benefit conferred on the
community at large by these famous Oxford Pro-
visions.
That there was some backwardness on the part
of the barons in giving full effect to the reforms
which they had promised to the people, is tolerably
clear. “The truth was, that the chiefs were un-
willing to divest themselves of the authority which
they had usurped. They had distributed among
their partisans all the lay offices and ecclesiastical
benefices in the gift of the crown; they received the
principal part of the royal revenues; and shared
among themselves the produce of the escheats, ward-
ships, and marriages of the king's tenants.” But for
reforms which limited their own feudal authority, they
appeared to feel very little inclination. The Annalist
of Burton gives us the following sketch of some
circumstances which took place in a “concilium ” or
parliament held towards the end of the year 1259.
At that parliament we are told,—
“The community of the bachelery of England
signified to the lord Edward, son of the king, to the
earl of Gloucester and others sworn of the council
at Oxford, that the lord king had done and fulfilled
all and each of the things which the barons had
provided and imposed upon him; but that the barons
themselves had done nothing for the benefit of the
commonweal, and according to their promise ; but
had minded their own interests only.” “Whereupon
the lord Edward answered for himself, that he had
taken a certain oath at Oxford, which, although he
THE CONVULSION. 47
had taken it against his will, he was disposed fully to
keep and observe:” “but be it made known to the
barons, that unless they fulfilled their aforesaid oath,
he would stand by the community even to the death,
and would cause the promises they had made to be
performed.” At length, the Annalist adds, “the
barons caused the following provisions to be pub-
lished:” provisions containing a number of Secu-
rities for the people against petty aggressions; and
which were re-enacted by Henry, in the fifty-second
year of his reign, in the well-known “Statute of
Marlborough.” -
At the end of this year 1259, king Henry, at the
desire of the council of barons, had gone over to
France, to complete the treaty respecting Normandy,
which was finally signed on the 15th day of De-
cember. He then began his journey homeward;
when he was stopped at Abbeville by a rumour that
earl Simon and the other barons were proposing to
place the prince on the throne in his room, and that
if he landed, he would probably be seized and
thrown into prison by the conspirators. “The
whole,” says Thomas Wykes, the chronicler, “was a
falsehood. The king, however, was struck with
terror, and delayed his return.” His brother, earl
Richard, at last allayed his fears. He got the
barons together in London, and caused a letter to
be written, to which he appended his own signature,
and the signature of the prince, and of the chief
nobles, assuring the king that he might boldly and
undoubtingly return. Whereupon the king em-
barked, and about the feast of St. George arrived
safely in England.
On his arrival, the same attempts were renewed,
4-3 THE CONVULSION,
to sow discord between the king and the prince.
The Annalist of Dunstable tells us, that certain
malicious persons, by false reports, created distrust
between the father and son ; asserting that Edward
and his counsellors were conspiring against the king.
They succeeded so far as to keep the two apart for a
time ; the king exclaiming, “Let him not approach
me, for if I were to see him, I should not be able to
help kissing him.” These simple words, added to the
prince's conduct a few years before, on his father's
embarkation at Portsmouth, give us a lively idea of
the real affection which always existed between the
two. At last, a meeting was brought about at
St. Paul’s, where the prince denied every charge
brought against him; offering to submit everything
to the judgment of his father and uncle. “Where-
upon,” says Matthew of Westminster, “the truth
being sifted, and the falsity of the stories proved, the
son became reconciled to his father, to the great con-
fusion of his adversaries.”
The truth is, that the most solid refutation of
such a calumny is found in the fact, that the king
was not deposed. The two most powerful men in
the kingdom, at that moment, were, earl Simon, on
the popular side, and Edward, on the side of the
crown These were great men, great statesmen, and
great soldiers; while Henry had fallen into universal
contempt. Had the prince and the earl ever really
intended to set aside the king, and to place the former
on the throne, such a change would have been
effected in a single day. That it was not done, is
Quite sufficient proof, that it was not intended.
But a real, open, and avowed difference, was soon
to take place between Henry and his son.
THE CONVULSION. 49
The king was always insincere, vacillating, and
uncertain ; the prince was upright, straightforward,
and the very soul of honor. Edward had seen, at a
glance, the real character of the Provisions of
Oxford, he knew that they did, in fact, strip the
sovereign of all real power; and he had sworn to
them, as he always declared, “most unwillingly.”
But, throughout his life, a pledge given by him was
a sacred thing. In one instance only, towards the
close of his reign, did he, apparently, desire to cancel
an obligation which had been extorted from him. At
the present moment, he would not even think of a
departure from his engagements. Hence it was
almost inevitable that the king and the prince should
greatly differ, even to the verge of quarrelling, on the
course proper to be taken at this period.
The operation of the Provisions of Oxford must
have been the cause of daily-increasing annoyances
to king Henry. The council of barons drew, week
by week, and month by month, all power and all
revenues more and more into their own hands.
Thus, in 1260, says Matthew Paris, “the barons
ordered those who farmed the church estates held by
Italians, not to hold themselves responsible for their
farms to the said Italians, but to account for the
rents to the proctors of them the said barons.” It is
no wonder, that, after this, we should find the pope
Quite willing to set aside the Provisions of Oxford,
and to excommunicate all who adhered to them.
Such a bull of absolution, nullifying and setting
aside the Oxford Provisions, Henry obtained from
Rome about Easter 1261, and it is evident that he
must have applied for it in the previous year.
The poor king, doubtless, was urged on by his
E
50 TEIE CONVULSION.
favorites, who had been accustomed for many years
past to be gratified by him with perpetual gifts, and
who now found him, to their vexation, without power
and without money. In February 1261, he entered
the council of the barons, and told them, that they
had pretended a great desire to benefit him, and the
whole community, by enlarging his revenues and
discharging his debts; but that he now found by
experience, that they had been actuated mainly by a
regard to their own selfish ends; and had made him
their servant instead of their master. “There-
fore,” said he, “I desire you not to wonder, if I walk
no more by your counsels, but seek a remedy else-
where for the existing state of affairs.”
After this notice, Henry, who doubtless was in
expectation of the speedy arrival of the papal bull,
began to prepare for the resumption of the royal
authority. He took possession, personally, of the
Tower of London, and broke open the treasury there,
to get access to the money deposited in it. He suc-
ceeded, also, in getting the city, for a while, on his
side, in So far, that he had possession of the gates,
and the barons and their followers were obliged
to find themselves quarters without the wails.
The barons sent a deputation to him, which was
harshly treated; the king declaring that they had
not observed the Provisions, and neither should he ;
but in future, everybody must shift for himself.
At last, when hostilities seemed about to commence,
it was suggested and agreed to, that all matters
should be submitted to arbitration, but that the
arbitration itself should await the return of the prince;
for Edward himself, in company with his cousin
THE CONVULSION. 51
Henry, son of the earl of Cornwall, and two of the
Sons of earl Simon, had left England for a grand
tournament proclaimed in France. There the prince
carried off the honors of the tourney; but hearing of
the alarming state of affairs at home, he quickly left
the continent, and returned to England.
And now we immediately discover the difference,
in character, between the father and the son.
“Edward,” says Matthew of Westminster, “after
receiving full information concerning the king's vain
counsels and counsellors, became enraged against the
latter, and withdrew himself from his father’s sight,
and in all good faith declared his adhesion to the
barons, in conformity with his oath.”
Now the young prince was devotedly attached to
his father, who was by his valor, five years after-
wards, replaced on his throne ; and he was at all
times a thorough royalist. But none of these con-
siderations could overbear in his mind the sense of
right, the fixed determination of his soul to adhere
to honor and good faith. He had sworn,-his father
had sworn ; and there was no valid ground, as yet,
for any breach of their engagements.
“Struck with terror, Henry shut himself and his
evil advisers up in the Tower, and Edward, remaining
outside the gates with the barons, things assumed an
alarming aspect.”
At last the queen, who it may be feared was the
secret favorer of these evil counsellors, interposed,
and probably by her influence over her son, an ac-
commodation was effected. The king ventured out,
and John Mansel, his favorite, and probably one of
his “evil advisers,” succeeded in making his escape.
E 3
52 THE CON VULSION.
This man, the Wolsey of his day, who is said to have
held at one time seven hundred ecclesiastical bene-
fices, and who had entertained four crowned heads
at a single banquet, soon afterwards absconded to
France, where he died in penury.
But the contest was now only beginning. In May
1261, the king went to his castle at Winchester, and
there he kept Whitsuntide; and calling before him
the high justiciary and the chancellor lately made by
the council of the barons, he ordered them to give up
their seals of office. They replied that they could
not do this without the consent of the barons; where-
upon the king grew very warm, and appointed Sir
Philip Bassett high justiciary, and Sir Walter Mer-
ton chancellor, of his own will and pleasure. “The
barons being informed of this, and fearing that the
king was about to abandon the Provisions of Oxford,
began to draw towards Winchester with armed forces.”
The king, hearing of their approach, stole out of
Winchester, and made the best of his way back to
the Tower of London.
The years 1262 and 1263 must have been years
of great discomfort to all parties. The king's move-
ments were impeded by the death of the pope, and
by the uncertainty which was felt as to what part the
new pontiff might take in the controversy. Among
the barons dissensions prevailed; insomuch that earl
Simon seems to have absented himself from England
during the greater part of these two years. King
Henry himself was abroad once or twice, and writes
to his brother, from St. Germain's, September 30th,
1262 ; “so depressed and broken down by fever,
that he could scarcely get out of his bed;” he
laments that he could not yet pay him the money he
THE CONVULSION. 53
had borrowed of him, but thanks him for his labors
and vexations on his account.
In 1263, the Welsh having latterly been again
troublesome, prince Edward brought over a number
of Veteran soldiers, whom he had met with at the
tournaments which he had recently attended on the
continent; and with these he garrisoned some of the
border-castles, and strengthened the force at Windsor.
In April of this year we find mention of a par-
liament held at Oxford, and attended by earl Simon
and the barons, which is said to have been held
“without the privity of the king or his council.” At
this parliament it was enacted, “ that all who went
against the Provisions of Oxford, should be held to
be capital offenders.” And immediately after this we
hear that the earl of Leicester began to assemble a
numerous army, and that people flocked to join him
from all quarters.
It seems tolerably clear that the war had, in effect,
already commenced ; for now earl Simon had quitted
the continent, and had taken up his abode in England,
with the determination, apparently, of bringing the
controversy to a close. One historian of the time,
Thomas Wykes, describes him as “moulding the
barons with his own deep-cut impressions, especially
the younger ones, who were but as wax in his hands.”
Matthew of Westminster, writing of this period, the
summer of 1263, says, “The barons of England,
being bound by an oath to the statutes of Oxford,
and being supported by the advice and effectual as-
sistance of the most noble earl of Leicester, a
man most skilful in military affairs, no longer hesi-
tated to bring to a conclusion a design which they
had long entertained.” First and principally, they
B4 THE CONVULSION.
waged war against all foreigners. Peter, bishop of
Hereford, a Burgundian by birth, was arrested in
his own cathedral, and his treasure and all his farms
given up to plunder. The army then proceeded to
Gloucester, where Matthew de Besill, a foreigner,
was governor. The castle was stormed, and the
governor taken prisoner. Next, Worcester was 00-
cupied ; and in every place, says the chronicler, “ the
people miserably oppressed the foreigners with all
kinds of depredation and plunder.” Such was one
not unnatural result of the manner in which the
pope had filled the principal churches with Italians;
while the soreness occasioned by this grievance had
been augmented by the royal favor shewed to the
Savoyards and Poitevins.
And now, for the first time in this contest, We
begin to find prince Edward on his father's side.
How, indeed, could it be otherwise ? So long as the
Question was one of politics, so long as it remained
a matter to be discussed, the prince refused to
concur in the king's uncertain and vacillating course;
and he felt a just repugnance at any underhanded
attempt to evade the performance of positive en-
gagements. But if the sword was to be drawn, then
he could not forget that Henry was his father, and
that the throne itself would, in a few years, be his
own ; and that therefore every conceivable motive
united to urge him to resist the degradation of the
one, or the subversion of the other. An incident,
too, which occurred at this moment, probably much
aided him in coming to a definite conclusion.
Edward, with military discernment, and with
filial affection, had taken means to place the castle
of Windsor in a position of safety. He had garri-
TEIE CONVULSION. 55
soned it with about “one hundred most gallant
knights, and a much more numerous body of men-at-
arms, fortifying and strengthening the castle in a
most admirable manner.” And having done this, he
invited the queen, his mother, to leave London,
where she was cooped up in the Tower, and to take
up her abode in the more royal residence of Windsor.
On the 13th of July, queen Eleanor left the
Tower, intending to proceed up the Thames to Wind-
Sor, according to the proposed arrangements. But
When her barge neared London bridge, she found it
crowded by a prodigious concourse of people, who
uttered the most horrible exclamations, of which
cries of “Drown the witch 1” were among the mildest;
and the acts of this mob were of a piece with their
words. All kinds of filth were hurled down upon
the barge ; and large stones, in such numbers as to
endanger its safety. The barge was driven back,
and as, in all probability, even a return to the Tower
might have been difficult, the mayor of London felt
it his duty to offer his protection, and to escort the
queen to the house of the bishop of London. This
circumstance naturally made a deep impression on
the minds of both the queen and her son ; and the
prince took a heavy vengeance for the outrage, at
the battle of Lewes, before so much as one year had
elapsed. As for the queen, she, not unnaturally,
soon contrived to pay a visit, accompanied by the
young princess, to the continent ; whence she did
not return until the battle of Evesham had restored
to the king his rightful place and authority.
All this autumn was passed in repeated but
fruitless attempts at accommodation. In August,
earl Simon and his party, who had formed a camp at
56 THE CONVULSION.
Isleworth, marched towards Windsor, intending to
besiege the castle. Prince Edward, earnestly de-
siring to restore peace, proposed a conference at
Ringston, which was agreed to. But the veteran
politician was too crafty for the young prince, who
was then only in his twenty-fourth year. The con-
ference passed off amicably enough, and matters
seemed likely to be arranged ; but when the prince
was about to return home, earl Simon and his friends
“were too circumspect to let him get into Windsor
again l’” They “detained him ; ” and by this art-
ful manoeuvre, they compelled the prince, in order
to regain his own liberty, to surrender Windsor
Castle to them. It is no great wonder that this
trick, added to the outrage at London bridge a fort-
night before, should have tended to rid the prince's
mind of any leaning towards earl Simon or his
party.
Still Leicester found difficulties in his way, and
as one was removed, another immediately appeared.
The archbishop of Canterbury, the uncle of the
queen, fulminated, from Boulogne, sentences of ex-
communication against several of the earl's adherents,
“for the spoiling and robbing of churches.” And
a little later, Henry, the son of the earl of Cornwall
and nephew of the king, fell off from the barons'
party; as did Ralph Bassett, John de Vaux, Roger
de Leiburne, Hamo L’Estrange, and John Giffard, all
knights of high repute, who united their fortunes
with those of the prince. The pope, also, began to
take a warm interest in the quarrel, and even threat-
ened to proclaim a new crusade against the rebellious
barons, as the enemies of Holy Church. Very na-
turally, therefore, some of the bishops interposed,
TEIE CONVULSION. 57
and succeeded in procuring a reference of all matters
in dispute to the arbitration of king Louis of
France, a prince whose character for religion and
virtue has distinguished him in the French annals
by the name of “Saint.” To this reference, all
parties willingly agreed : earl Simon and his son,
Hugh le Despencer, Humphrey de Bohun, Nicholas
de Segrave, and a host of others, on the side of the
barons;–prince Edward, his cousin Henry, the earls
of Norfolk, Warrenne, and Hereford, with others, on
the king's part. King Louis accepted the office,
and, at the beginning of January 1264, he held a
court at Amiens to hear the parties on both sides.
King Henry, his son, and nephew, attended in
person. The earl of Leicester set off for Amiens,
but his horse fell with him, broke his leg, and he
was confined for some time at Kenilworth. The
barons deputed Humphrey de Bohun, the younger,
Henry and Peter de Montfort, Thomas Cantilupe,
and some others, to represent them at the hearing.
Louis heard the arguments on both sides, during
several days; and on the 23rd of January, 1264, he
gave his judgment, which is still to be read in the
archives of Paris. In that judgment, confirming
Magna Charta, “he annuls and makes void the Pro-
visions of Oxford, and ordains that the king and his
barons, and all others, be entirely discharged and
released from the same.” He then counsels mu-
tual forgiveness, concession, and good will, to all
parties.
The barons received this award with indignation,
and “utterly refused to abide by it.” And now, for
the first time, prince Edward found himself free.
The papal bull of 1261 could give no satisfaction to
58 THE CONVULSION.
his mind; nor reconcile his conscience to a breach of
obligations, deliberately, though reluctantly, under-
taken. But by this arbitration the position of affairs
was wholly changed. Earl Simon and his adherents
had themselves submitted the Oxford Provisions, and
all other matters in dispute, to the decision of king
Louis. They had sworn, that “whatever he should
ordain concerning the aforesaid things, should be by
them observed with good faith.” And king Louis had
ordained, that the Oxford Provisions should be can-
celled, and rendered null and void. The inference
was inevitable. All who had sworn to abide by his
decision, were bound to regard the Oxford Provisions
as utterly erased and rescinded. If the barons
refused to do so, they, and not the king or the
prince, would be morally responsible for the conse-
Quences.
Louis had ordained, that the king should be
restored to all his rights, and especially to the
possession of all his castles. Henry accordingly, on
his return home, demanded possession of Dover
Castle, but was refused admittance. He then passed
on to Canterbury; and early in March proceeded to
Oxford, where he convened a parliament. The barons,
however, refused to attend, and established their
head-quarters at Northampton, which they held
against the king.
Earl Richard, king of the Romans, the king's
brother, had, like his son Henry, gone a certain
length with earl Simon ; but he had now, like his
son, withdrawn from what was becoming a mere
rebellion, and began to shew himself on the king's
part. This defection enraged the Londoners, who,
“Sallying forth in immense numbers,” proceeded to
THE CONVULSION. 59
Isleworth, where earl Richard had a mansion, which
they rifled and burnt to the ground. They then
returned to Westminster, where he had another
house, which they also levelled with the ground.
The lord Walter de Merton, and the lord Philip de
Bassett, also had their houses destroyed, and the
judges made by the king were seized and thrown into
prison.
Through the months of February and March, a
sort of desultory warfare was kept up, at Gloucester,
Worcester, and on the borders of Wales. At Glou-
cester, the prince gave another proof of the frankness
and intrepidity of his character. He had entered
into the castle, and had signified his intention of
fighting the forces of the barons, outside, the next
day. But seeing among the opposing forces the two
sons of earl Simon, on whom he had himself con-
ferred knighthood only two or three years before, and
who had been his brethren in the great tournament
of 1261,–he went out to them, unarmed, with his
cousin Henry, to treat of the still remaining possi-
bility of peace. He succeeded in making a temporary
truce, till he should rejoin his father, and try to bring
about a pacification. The old earl, the chronicler
adds, was much vexed, remembering his Kingston
manoeuvre, “that the prince should have been so
foolishly released.”
On the 3rd of April, 1264, the king raised the
royal banner, and marched out of Oxford, with a
well-appointed army, led by prince Edward, his
uncle the earl of Cornwall, John Baliol, Robert de
Bruce, Philip Marmion, Philip Bassett, William de
Valence, and others. Their march was directed to
Northampton, before which town the royal army
60 THE CONVULSION.
appeared on the 5th. The younger Simon de Montfort
and his brother Peter defended the place, but a
breach was made, and the castle was successfully
stormed. There were taken here, fifteen knights
banneret, and above one hundred ordinary knights,
“with an infinite number of noble persons” (gentry).
Young Simon had been among the first to raise a rebel
standard against the king, and being captured, some
were for putting him to death; but the prince saved his
life; which kindness Simon requited by assassinating
Edward’s cousin, Henry, a few years after, in a
church at Viterbo. Earl Simon was in London when
the news of the loss of Northampton reached him,
and he would instantly have marched northwards, but
danger shewed itself in another quarter. A con-
spiracy had been detected among the Jews, who, it
was said, intended to set fire to the city on Palm
Sunday. And at Rochester Castle lay the earl
Warrenne, and other leading royalists, who, it was
supposed, would, in the confusion, make an attempt
to seize upon the city. Leicester, therefore, thought it
his first duty to get possession of this stronghold,
lying as it did so near to the metropolis; and he im-
mediately besieged it. The king, hearing of its peril,
felt the importance of retaining it so strongly, that
he quitted Northampton, and in five days, scarcely
allowing himself any rest, he reached Rochester.
Having placed this fortress in a position of safety, he
marched to Tunbridge, where he took the castle of the
earl of Gloucester; proceeding onwards to Winchelsea
and the Cinque ports. Leicester, having made LOn-
don secure, now felt it necessary to go in quest of
the king. He enlisted about 15,000 of the citizens
in his army, and marched towards Lewes, where the
THE CONVULSION. 61
castle of earl Warrenne would, he well knew, form a
probable base of operations for the royal army. He
reached the village of Fleching, about nine miles
north of Lewes, about the 11th of May, 1264. Here
the first step taken, was to despatch the bishops of
London and Worcester to king Henry, with an offer
of peace. The letter, still extant, signed by the earls
of Leicester and Gloucester, is vague in its phrase-
ology, and abounds with professions of loyalty;
but the verbal offers made by the prelates embraced
a payment of 50,000 marks to the king and his
brother, for the damage done at Isleworth and else-
where, provided the Provisions of Oxford were still
adhered to.
On the statement of these terms, “a mighty
clamour arose,”—the royalists being confident of
their strength, and indignant that the now defunct
Provisions should again be brought into discussion.
The instant reply was penned and sent back, that,
“Since it manifestly appears, by the war and general
disturbance already raised by you in our kingdom,
that you do not observe your allegiance to us, nor
have any regard to the security of our person, we
value not your faith or love, but defy you, as
our enemies.” Such was the message carried back
to the army of the barons on the evening of the 13th
of May. That night was spent by earl Simon in
anxious preparations, and by Sunrise of the next day
his force was in the field.
Most accounts give the Superiority in numerical
force to the royal army; but, in those days, even
more than in our own, mere numbers were of less
importance than knightly prowess and skill in the
conduct of an army; and we have no reason to
62 THE CONVULSION.
suppose that, at Lewes, among many valiant knights,
there were more than two men of pre-eminent military
talent. These were, the able and experienced Simon
de Montfort, and the young prince Edward, who was
but in his twenty-fifth year, and who was now to
witness his first great battle.
Henry, taking the command of the centre, and
his brother the left wing, it devolved upon the prince
to lead the right. Edward thus found himself
opposed to the Londoners; and all the chronicles
agree, that he rejoiced at the opportunity to repay
them for the insults offered only a few months before
to the queen, his mother.
The trumpets Sounded, and Edward in a moment
was upon the Londoners. Before his charge nothing
could stand. His whole life furnishes no instance in
which his onset could be resisted. The leaders of the
London division of the barons' army, Hastings and
Segrave, were distinguished men, but their efforts
were unavailing. The whole body was driven back,
and the front retiring upon the rear, all became con-
fusion ; and as Edward and his knights came
thundering after them, Henry de Hastings, Geoffrey
de Lucy, and Humphrey de Bohun, the younger, were
seen flying for their lives. Numbers were drowned in
attempting to cross the river Ouse, and for two or
three miles the sword of the pursuers was busy, till a
rapid flight at last saved those fugitives who could gain
the steeper heights. This division of the barons’
army was utterly broken up. The actual loss sus-
tained by it is commonly stated at 3,000 or 4,000
Iſle]].
But meanwhile, the other great leader had not
been idle. Pleased to see the prince drawn off on
THE CONVULSION. 63
the right, earl Simon and his equally dauntless sons
set upon the centre and left wing, and quickly threw
them into confusion. Matthew of Westminster says
of the royal forces, that “the greater part of them
marched forward that day without any order, and
with precipitation, and fought unskilfully.” It is
perfectly clear, that so soon as prince Edward had
gone in pursuit of the Londoners, all the military
talent in the field was on the side of earl Simon.
Hence, before Edward could return, the main body
of the royal army had been defeated, and the earl
Warrenne, with three or four hundred knights, had in
a disgraceful manner fled the field, and escaped to
Pevensey; the king had taken refuge in the priory;
and his brother, the earl of Cornwall, was a prisoner.
The prince, on his return from the chase of the
Londoners, was met by these disastrous news : he
carried his force round the town, to the priory, where
he found his father, and he proposed the next day to
renew the fight. But Leicester was always a politic
man; he often relied on negotiation; and he had
already seen what Edward could achieve in the
open field. That evening, he despatched to the priory
two or three friars, with offers of a negotiation, and
with assurances of his earnest desire of peace and
reconciliation. As he was in possession of the field,
and as the royal army was Sorely diminished and
discouraged, it was natural that such offers should
be readily received. The earl proposed to release all
his prisoners, to set the earl of Cornwall at liberty,
to refer all matters in dispute to six distinguished
men, as umpires, only providing, which was the
gist of the whole scheme, that prince Edward and
his cousin Henry should give themselves up as
64 THE CONVULSION.
hostages for the fulfilment of whatever the said
umpires should enjoin.
Edward was not the man to offer any objection
to a plan which proposed to release his father and
his uncle by the sacrifice of himself. He willingly
assented; the earl’s object was accomplished, and
the prince was immediately sent to Dover Castle,
under the care of Henry de Montfort, his former
friend. A political Song of that day thus jeers at
him :—
“Be the luef, be the loht*, Sire Edward,
Thou shalt ride sporeless othy lyard,
All the righte way to Dovere ward.”
Wykes says, that the prince was treated “less
honorably than was becoming.” Another writer adds,
“In prison mere a yere was Edward in a cage.”
But we may reasonably conclude, that the prince,
beyond his seclusion, was subjected to no insults;
since we find him personally attending the funeral
of Henry de Montfort, after the battle of Evesham,
as one for whose memory he still felt a regard.
Leicester was now, practically, supreme. The
king was in his hands,--a state prisoner, forced to
sign whatever mandates were prescribed to him ;
and the earl made good use of his opportunity.
He made Henry send orders to the governors of
all his castles, to surrender them at once to earl
Simon’s captains. He forced him to sign commis-
sions to the sheriffs of the counties, enjoining them
to take up arms against all that should oppose the
orders of the barons. The prince, meanwhile, was
* i.e. “Be thou willing, or unwilling.”
THE CONVULSION. 65
safely cooped up in Dover Castle, and the queen
was in Flanders, where she immediately began to
collect a force for her husband's release. A long
succession of contrary winds, however, quite frus-
trated all her purposes.
The rest of the year passed over, in vain
attempts on the part of earl Simon to satisfy the
king of France and the papal legate, of the fair-
ness of his intentions.
Christmas, 1264, saw the earl in his castle of
Kenilworth, where he kept that festival with un-
usual state. One hundred and sixty knights graced
his board, and, apparently, both the king and the
prince were ostensibly his guests, but in reality his
prisoners. In March a fresh manoeuvre was adopted.
The prince was brought to a council or parliament
at Westminster, professedly to be set at liberty;
but, says Rapin, “this concession was clogged with
conditions which rendered it of no use ; namely,
that he should remain with the king his father, and
obey him in all things. Clearly, to ordain that
Edward should be set at liberty, and yet continue
with his father, who was himself a prisoner, was
merely to change his prison.” “Edward,” says
Florence of Worcester, “being released from pri-
son, was led about, with the king, by the earl de
Montfort, wherever he went.” Yet, for this merely
delusive concession, the prince was required to pay
the enormous price of assigning the whole county
of Chester to the ambitious earl. This was done by
a formal act, still extant, bearing date, “London,
the last day of March, 1265.”
The Chronicle of Mailros narrates an incident
which exhibits, in a very forcible light, the humili-
F
56 THE CONVULSION.
ating mockery of freedom to which the prince was
at this time subjected. “A venerable man, Oliver,
abbot of Dryburgh, was sent to Edward from his
sister, the queen of Scotland. Simon, hearing of his
arrival, conducted him to the prince, who was seated
on a raised chair or high seat. The earl proceeded
with the abbot up the steps to the prince, and
remained there, while, after a friendly salutation,
they conversed together. Standing by them, he
kept his eyes fixed upon them, so as to guard against
any sign or other communication passing between
them ; and when the abbot rose to depart, earl
Simon followed him as he left the prince, interposing
between them So as to prevent anything from pass-
ing.” Such insults as these, obviously, the prince
would have borne from no one but the old earl
himself; yet, says the Chronicle, “these precautions
were moderate, compared with other steps taken by
the earl.”
But Leicester was now rapidly undermining the
foundations of his own power. Two of his chief
confederates in the war with the king had been the
earl of Derby and the earl of Gloucester. The
first of these noblemen he now sued in the king's
name, and shut him up in the Tower. Gloucester
had some reason to fear that a similar purpose was
entertained towards him, and being invited by the
younger de Montforts to a tournament, he declined
to attend. Rishanger says, that he was disgusted to
find that Leicester took to his own use a great part
of the revenues of the kingdom, and all the moneys
received for the ransom of prisoners, which Glou-
cester expected would have been divided. Wykes
adds, that earl Simon had appropriated to himself
THE CONVULSION. 67
eighteen confiscated baronies; and most of the
chroniclers agree, that the pride and arrogance of
the younger de Montforts had altogether alienated
the earl of Gloucester.
Roger Mortimer, one of the lords marchers,
Who had been associated with prince Edward in the
Welsh wars, had always been a firm royalist. With
him, Gloucester now entered into communication,
and between them a plan was soon agreed upon for
effecting the prince's release.
Earl Simon heard of some hostile proceedings
of the lords marchers, and thought it necessary
to proceed into the west, to look after these matters.
As usual, he carried the king and the prince into
the west with him. Lying at Hereford, prince
Edward’s attendants (or keepers) seem to have
been Thomas de Clare, Robert de Ros, and Henry
de Montfort. That they were, in fact, charged with
his custody, is clear from the circumstances which
followed.
Mortimer contrived to have sent to the prince,
as a present from some unsuspected party, a re-
markably fleet horse. One day, Edward, having
this horse kept near, first proposed races with his
attendants, and in this manner galloped their horses
until they were sufficiently tired. Then, mounting
his fresh and fleet courser, he jocosely told them
that he had had as much of their company as he
wished, and then bade them “Good morning.” They
followed as they might, but after a while a party,
sent by Mortimer, issued from a wood, surrounded
the prince, and rode off joyfully with him.
Gloucester and Mortimer soon joined the prince
with what force they could make, and earl Warrenne,
F 3
68 THE CONVULSION.
William of Walence, and Hugh Bigod, landed nearly
about the same time, at Pembroke, with a hundred and
twenty knights and cross-bow-men. Giffard soon after
came in with a large body of men, and the royal army
received hourly reinforcements from many quarters.
The cities of Gloucester and Worcester quickly fell
into the prince's hands. Earl Simon’s force was then at
Hereford, and in Glamorganshire. The prince knew
Renilworth to be a stronghold of the De Montfort
family; and hearing from a spy that the younger
Simon, who had come up from the south, with a con-
siderable body of men, to his father's assistance, and
was then at Kenilworth, kept but a careless guard, he
left Worcester on a fine summer night, August 1st., and
effected a complete surprise of the Kenilworth party.
Enowing of no enemy near, and being probably
too numerous to be cooped up in the castle, they
were preferring the rural pleasures of the villages to
the confinement of stone walls, and the royal forces
came upon them in the early dawn, while asleep in
the town or village near the castle. Some were seen
to fly with a single garment; some in their shirts,
others, with their clothes under their arms. Young
Simon escaped with difficulty, almost naked, by a boat
across the lake, and so got into the castle. Among
the prisoners were twenty bannerets, including Robert
de Vaux, earl of Oxford, William de Monchensy,
Richard de Gray, Baldwin Wake, and Hugh Neville.
A rich booty was taken, and a large number of
valuable horses belonging to the captured knights”.
But the old earl was not far distant ; he had been
informed of the prince's march, and knew the impor-
* Chronicle of Mailros.
THE CONVULSION. 69
tance of stopping, if it were possible, his progress.
The troops, however, which he had with him were
probably not numerous, and the larger portion of them
were merely Welsh irregulars; and he greatly desired
a junction with his son Simon, and the Kenilworth
forces. He manoeuvred, therefore, to pass by, if
possible, the prince's army, and to march upon Kenil-
worth, or at least, to establish a communication with
his son, wherever he might be. With this view, he
reached Kempseye, a palace belonging to the bishop
of Worcester, on Sunday or Monday, August 2nd or
3rd, 1265; knowing that the prince's army was near
the city of Worcester, but not desiring to come into
contact with it until he had effected a junction with
his son.
The prince was informed of his movements, and
knowing that he would march in an eastward direc-
tion, so as to approach Warwickshire, he resolved to
move in a parallel line, and thus to fall in with the
earl near Evesham. Edward had now passed his
youth, and began to exhibit more and more of that
prudence and discretion in military tactics which
characterized him through life. He had just gained
one great advantage by surprising his foes; and he
wished, as far as it might be possible with so expe-
rienced a warrior as earl Simon, to keep him also in
the dark as to his movements. Considering it to be
most probable that all his proceedings were watched,
and that the earl would receive intelligence of the
course he took, he left Worcester by the northern
road, as though he intended to march towards
Stafford or Shrewsbury. Allowing time for the spies
to fly to earl Simon with this news, he then suddenly
wheeled to the right, and turned towards Evesham,
70 THE CONVULSION.
where he rightly judged he should find the earl. A
second precaution he had learned from a device
practised by earl Simon at the battle of Lewes ;
where the old earl cunningly displayed his banner at
a point of the field where he himself was not. Having
just captured at Kenilworth the banners of twenty
knights of fame, the prince ordered these banners to
be vauntingly displayed in the front of his army.
The earl saw the devices, and rejoicingly said, “They
are our banners, my son is close at hand.” By this
manoeuvre the prince was enabled to gain a com-
manding position on Elyn hill, without any opposition
from the earl. But now, Nicholas, the earl’s barber,
had gone up into Evesham tower, to view the
approaching army, and called out quickly, “It is not
your son as you suppose; but I see the prince's ban-
ner in the van, the earl of Gloucester's in another part,
and Roger Mortimer's in a third.” The earl went
up to view them, and exclaimed, “By the arm of
St. James 1 they advance most skilfully, but it is
from me they learned it.” Soon after, finding his
foes manoeuvring to surround him, and perceiving
their superior force, he exclaimed, “ May the Lord
have mercy on our Souls l—for our bodies are the
prince's l’’
His sons would fain have had him escape, while
they sustained the prince's onset; but such a pro-
posal was naturally scorned by one of the first
soldiers in Europe. “Far be it from me,” he ex-
claimed, “to bring an illustrious career to such a
close.” Walter Hemingford says, that he told his
sons that it was their pride and presumption that had
brought him to this end; but still, he added, “I trust
I die for the cause of God and justice.”
THE CONVULSION. 71
The battle began soon after noon, and lasted until
evening. The old earl, in this crisis of his fate, drew
round him a body of gallant knights, resolving to
meet death with intrepidity. His Welsh auxiliaries,
alarmed at the state of affairs, took to flight at an
early period of the engagement. Against the solid
phalanx which gathered round the old warrior, the
prince made his most vehement attack. But Leicester
and his followers were not men to fly; and there was
nothing for it but to ply the steel and the lance, till
nought remained to offer any resistance. Gloucester,
meanwhile, had gained the rear, and the remnant of
the earl’s army was now surrounded on all sides.
Most of them died a knightly death. “Their shields
were cut to pieces, their coats of mail pierced and
torn to shivers, and countless spears and swords
were dyed with their blood.” There fell, in heaps of
dead, the old earl, his son Henry, lord Hugh
Despencer, lord Ralph Basset, lord Thomas Hestelet,
lord William de Mandeville, lord John Beauchamp,
lord Guy de Baliol, lord Roger de Rouce, Peter de
Montfort, Walter de Crepinge, William of York,
Robert de Tregor, and many other knights, to the
number of a hundred and sixty, besides a very large
number of young men of quality. The prince had
been desirous of taking the earl and his sons prisoners;
but it is clear that a spirit of animosity existed among
some of the royalist party, which contemned the idea
of quarter on either side. -
It was this feeling which even proceeded so
far as actually to mutilate the dead body of the old
warrior, and to send his head to lady Mortimer at
Wigmore Castle. Yet some prisoners were taken,_
such as Guy de Montfort, Peter de Montfort the
72 THE CONVULSION.
younger, John St. John, Henry de Hastings, Hum-
phrey de Bohun the younger, John de Vesci, and
Nicholas de Segrave.
The death of young Henry de Montfort gave the
prince great concern. He attended his funeral, and
the interment of the remains of the old earl, and of
lord Hugh Despencer, in the conventual church at
Evesham, as chief mourner. King Henry, who had
been carried into the battle by earl Simon, was
rescued by his son, and placed in safety. He had
been thrown into a position of real peril, being
attacked by some of the prince's followers, to
Whom he was obliged to cry out, “I am Henry of
Winchester l’” -
“The barons' war” was now practically at an end.
A parliament was summoned to meet at Winchester,
in the month of September, when all the acts of the
earl, done under the king's name, were rescinded, and
sundry forfeitures were declared of the estates of the
rebel barons. It is, however, remarked as well
worthy of note, that not one of the party of the
earl of Leicester suffered any punishment, excepting
the forfeiture of estates : and these forfeitures were
commuted, in 1267, by the Dictum of Kenilworth,
for the payment of fines, varying from one to five
years’ value. Surely a penalty of five years' rent
must be regarded as lenient, in the case of those who
had actually fought against their sovereign in the
open field. High treason had been their offence, and
yet not one of the surviving rebels suffered either
death or imprisonment. Even Hume remarks, “The
clemency of this victory is remarkable. No blood
was shed on the scaffold: no attainders, except of
the Montfort family, were carried into execution.”
THE CONVULSION. 73
And lord Campbell says, “Prince Edward is cele-
brated for the merciful disposition he displayed. No
blood was shed on the scaffold, and all who submitted
were pardoned.”
Renilworth Castle and the isle of Ely held out
for Some months against the king ; but in the course
of 1266-1267 they were subdued. The Londoners, for
their zeal, repeatedly shewn against the king, were
sentenced to pay a fine of 20,000 marks. And now
Queen Eleanor might return home to her palace and
her husband. For nearly two years had she lived
in exile, during the whole of which time her efforts
had been unceasing in her consort’s cause. To her
influence with the king of France, the barons attri-
buted the unfavorable sentence of that monarch, by
which the Provisions of Oxford were set aside. By
her efforts, also, bulls had been procured from the
pope, Urban IV., confirming the award of king Louis,
abrogating the Provisions of Oxford, and directing
ecclesiastical censures on all who should observe
those Provisions. But, not content with mere fulmi-
nations, “this most gallant woman,” to use Matthew
of Westminster’s words, “bravely labored to suc-
cour her lord, and Edward his son, with all possible
energy and manly courage.” By selling all her
jewels, and pledging her credit to the utmost, she
managed to draw together at Bruges, and at Damme,
such an army and such a fleet as to excite in England
the most lively alarms. But a long succession of
adverse winds kept them in harbour, until their pro-
visions were exhausted ; and this host dispersed and
melted away, leaving English quarrels to be decided
by English swords and English men. The king, when
peace was restored, was obliged to give to his con-
74 THE CONVULSION.
sort, not only the whole fine of the city of London,
but many other ransoms and levies, in order to clear
off the debts she had incurred.
Several of the princesses of that day bore the
name of Eleanor. With the queen returned also
“Eleanor of Castile,” the fair and gentle consort of
the prince. Unlike her mother-in-law, whose energy,
talent, and determination, are celebrated by all the
chroniclers, the young Eleanor appears never to
have interfered in politics; and instead of becoming,
like Eleanor of Provence, “one of the most unpopular
of queens,” she seems to have acquired and to have
deserved, the affectionate esteem of all classes. Her
magnificent funeral in 1290,—one of the most striking
scenes ever witnessed in England,-proved how en-
tirely she had gained the affections of one of the
noblest of men.
But while restored freedom and prosperity awaited
these two princesses, the battle of Evesham sounded
the knell of many lofty aspirings in the hearts of
two other ladies, also bearing the name of Eleanor.
Henry's sister, Eleanor, had been wedded seven-and-
twenty years before to earl Simon de Montfort, and
she had borne him five gallant sons and a young
Eleanor. She had faithfully shared the earl’s varied
fortunes, and was, says the chronicler,
“Gode woman thoru' al.”
For nearly two years she had been the wife of the
ruler of the land. Queen Eleanor had fled away; the
king and his son were in bondage; and earl Simon bore
sway in England, keeping Christmas in Kenilworth
Castle, with a hundred and sixty knights at his hos-
THE CONVULSION. 75
pitable board. But even when she was absent from her
lord, and living in Dover Castle, “a quarter of a tun
of Gascon wine, and half a tun of bastard wine,” was
the daily allowance of her table. When she was
at Odiham, just four months before the battle of
Evesham, her stable-keepers had to provide for three
hundred and thirty-four horses . At this time her two
nephews, prince Edward and his cousin Henry, in
charge of Henry de Montfort, were her guests. As
April opened, the earl her husband parted from her,
and they never met again. In June she heard of the
prince's escape, and removed to Dover Castle for
safety, her train consisting of eighty-four horses.
She passed by Porchester, Bramber, Battle, and Win-
chelsea, in her way to Dover. At Winchelsea, on
Sunday, the 14th of June, she gave a dinner to the
burgesses, at which two oxen and thirteen sheep were
consumed”.
On the 15th of August she received the fatal
tidings, that her husband and son were slain, and that
she was a banished outlaw. Probably the tidings,
or rumours of the battle, may have reached her rather
earlier ; but we find an entry, on the 15th, of the
arrival of a messenger with letters from prince Edward.
He had not forgotten that the countess Eleanor was
his aunt, and that he had but recently been her guest.
What an interesting document would that letter now
be, had it been preserved
After various efforts to excite the king's compas-
sion, she quitted England in October, having pre-
viously sent over two of her sons, with a sum of
* Manners and Household Eaſpenses. Roxburgh Club. P. 47.
76 THE CONVULSION.
11,000 marks, the wreck of her fallen fortunes. The
nunnery of Montargis, which had been founded by
her husband's sister, received her. Laying aside her
purple robes, she assumed for the rest of her days
the garb of widowhood, wearing nothing but wool
nearest her skin. Fasting of the severest kind be-
came habitual to her”; and no reconciliation with her
brother king Henry seems ever to have taken place.
There is, however, still extant, a letter from Henry
to the king of France, in which, while he dwells on
the injuries which he had received from the earl and
his family, he promises to agree to anything which
the king shall recommend. But there is no record
of any concession during the short remainder of that
reign. It was reserved for the more generous spirit
of Edward to accord to her a full pardon; and to
restore to her, so soon as he was seated on the throne,
her dower as countess of Pembroke.
The youngest of the four Eleanors was educated
at Montargis by her mother, for her intended station
as princess of Wales. Earl Simon had always culti-
vated the friendship and alliance of Llewellyn, from
whom he had obtained that body of Welsh troops
which deserted him at the battle of Evesham.
Leicester had promised the Welsh prince his
daughter in marriage, and Llewellyn's heart seems
# It is probable that, like her brother the king, and her
husband the earl, the countess Eleanor was a sincerely religious
woman. Her sons were sent for education to bishop Grossetete,
“holy bishop Robert.” Among her household expenses we find
a payment of 10s. for vellum for a pocket breviary; and 148. for
the writer. At the present value of money this would make the
whole cost of the breviary about £18.
THE CONVULSION. 77
to have been wholly set upon this union. But, in
1275, when the intended bride was on her way, under
the care of her brother Almeric, to become the wife
of the prince of Wales, the ship was captured by an
English cruiser off Bristol, and the young Eleanor
was presented to king Edward. He treated her
courteously, and made her reside at Windsor, as
companion to the queen ; but as Llewellyn was then
contumacious, Edward refused to send to him his
bride. At last, the Welsh prince submitted, peace
was restored, and at Worcester, in 1278, the marriage
took place, the king and queen gracing the ceremony
with their presence.
CHAPTER THE FOURTH.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
A.D. 1268–1272.
WITH earl Simon’s death the rebellion ended;
and nothing remained for the prince to do, but to
break up some insurgent bands which still held the
isle of Ely and Kenilworth Castle; and then, at a
parliament held at Marlborough in 1269, to procure
the enactment, as a permanent law, of the beneficial
regulations which, as we have seen, his own firmness
had extorted from the council of barons just ten
years before. We notice, too, on this occasion, the
bent of the prince’s mind, in the form and style
observed in this parliament. It was now, for the
first time, that the concurrence of the people was dis-
tinctly recognised as essential to the enactment of a
new law. It is stated, that “the more discreet men
of the realm being called together,” the following
“statute” was agreed upon. Only five other documents
regarded as laws emanated from Henry during his
long reign” ; and all of these, previous to the Statute
of Marlborough, bear the character of edicts or de-
crees, issued by the king and his council. But the
prince had latterly acquired a natural and paramount
influence in all affairs of state ; and throughout his
whole life we shall find the constant recognition of
* See Statutes of the Realm, vol. i.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 79
the principle distinctly asserted by him in 1297, that
“what concerns all, should be by all approved.”
It would be tedious to go through the details of
the suppression of the remains of the insurrection
at Kenilworth and in the isle of Ely, or to describe
the troubles excited, for a while, by the earl of
Gloucester. The great men who had joined the
prince, and who had aided him in re-establishing the
monarchy, now expected and demanded large re-
wards; while, on the other hand, “the disinherited,”
—those who had taken arms with earl Simon and the
barons,—shewed a natural dislike to the punish-
ments, in the shape of pecuniary fines, which were
justly inflicted on them. But the prince's judgment
and discretion, after a while, overcame all these diffi-
culties; and, as we have already seen, even un-
friendly historians have been compelled to admit,
that “the clemency which followed the victory of
Evesham is remarkable.”
The circumstances of the times gave full scope
to the soldierly and princely qualities of Edward.
A strong right arm was often absolutely needed. If
the king's enemies required to be kept in check, the
king's friends were often almost equally troublesome.
We have alluded to the fractiousness of the earl of
Gloucester, who, at one time, held London itself
against the king. Another great earl, Warrenne,
was always faithful to the crown ; but he could not
bring his passions into subjection to the laws. It
was in 1269, Matthew Paris tells us, that “in con-
sequence of some hasty words which passed between
them, John de Warrenne, earl of Surry, slew with
his own hand, in Westminster Hall, Alan de la Zouch,
the king's justiciary.” This was clearly no ordinary
80 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
offence, and the earl, in just alarm, fled to his castle
at Reigate. The prince immediately took the matter
in hand, gathered a sufficient force, and invested the
castle. The earl saw that there was but one course
left for him : he issued forth, unarmed, and threw him-
self on the prince's mercy. He was carried to London,
where, after some consideration, a fine of 10,000
marks,—a very large sum,--was imposed upon him,
and after some imprisonment, his pardon was granted.
Much about the same time, an incident occurred,
in the course of Edward's labors for the pacifica-
tion of the country, which can hardly be passed
over. In the forest near Alton in Hampshire, there
dwelt a noted leader of free lances, named Adam
Gordon, or Gourdon, whose exploits made him the
terror of the neighbourhood. The prince, hearing
of his fame, sought him out, and at last caught
sight of him, one evening, just as he and his fol-
lowers were retiring into their fastnesses. Desiring
his attendants not to interfere, Edward leaped the
ditch, and at once engaged Gordon in single combat.
Both being valorous knights and skilled in arms, the
issue was long in doubt. At last, says Matthew of
Westminster, Gordon was wounded, and yielded him-
self. Edward, always delighted to meet “a foeman
worthy of his steel,” instantly received his submis-
sion, ordered his servants to bind up his wounds,
took him into his favor, and presented him, that
night, to the queen his mother, at her castle at
Guildford. He became from that time attached to
Edward's service, and proved himself a faithful fol-
lower and friend”.
* See Appendix B.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERs. 81
The old chroniclers give us another anecdote of
a similar kind. Edward was amusing himself, on
one occasion, with his hawks, and one of the lords
in attendance overlooked a falcon who had made a
stoop on a duck among the willows. The prince re-
buked him rather sharply; and the other answered,
with some pertness, that “he was glad the river was
between them l’” Instantly Edward had plunged
into the stream, careless of its depth, and having
with some difficulty urged his horse up the opposite
bank, he pursued the offender, sword in hand. The
other, knowing the prince, immediately flung off his
cap, bared his neck, and approaching with signs of
submission, threw himself on the prince's mercy.
Edward's wrath sank as quickly as it had risen ; he
sheathed his weapon, gave instant forgiveness, and
the two rode home in amity together.
In these incidents we see Edward’s real charac-
ter. Irascible and impetuous, whoever dared his
anger soon found that he had roused a lion. But
no one ever had a more noble or a more susceptible
heart; and to crave his mercy, unless justice for-
bade, was to have it. In the course of a reign
of five-and-thirty years, a few—a very few—cases
occurred, in which forgiveness would have involved
a moral wrong: but the general habit of his mind
was vividly expressed, when, towards the end of his
reign, his judges suggested, in a special case, that he
might shew mercy, if he chose to do so. “May
shew mercy l’’ was Edward’s indignant reply, “why,
I will do that for a dog, if he seeks my grace l’”
It was in the year already denoted, 1269, that all
enemies having been subdued, the prince began to
call to mind a vow which he had made in his time
G
82 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
of trouble, that he would pay, according to the cus-
tom of the times, a religious visit to the IIoly Land.
In this purpose, too, he was furthered and encou-
raged by Louis, Saint Louis, the eminently reli-
gious king of France. Bent upon a similar design,
Louis “sent special messengers to Edward, entreat-
ing an interview.” The prince soon crossed the
channel, and the French king, “after closely em-
bracing him,” explained, that he purposed immedi-
ately to revisit the Holy Land, and that he greatly
desired to have his company in that enterprise. “In
fact,” says Matthew Paris, “Edward was a man of
such courage, daring, and puissance”,” that the king
“ desired above all other things to have such a com-
panion.”
But to visit Palestine as a princely crusader, at
the head of a suitable array, was a different thing
from visiting it as a pilgrim-knight, kneeling at the
holy places in fulfilment of a vow. “My lord,”
said Edward, “you know that the substance of
England has been wasted in the late civil war, and
my means are not sufficient to carry out such an
undertaking with such a personage as yourself.”
The king instantly answered, “I will gladly lend
you 30,000 marks,—or, in fact, I will give you
that sum, if you will only comply with my wishes.”
So urged, the prince consented; returning home,
however, though he was now in his thirtieth year,
“to obtain permission of the king his father, which
was given, though not without tears.”
We see a proof of the entire pacification of
England in this purpose of the prince, and in his
* “Mighty in arms.”—Matthew of Westminster.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 83
father's consent, given without any difficulty. In
truth, there was now no longer “any adversary, or
evil occurrent.” The only one of the great barons
whose uncertain temper might have caused some
disquiet,_the earl of Gloucester, was induced to
accompany the prince ; and in the spring of 1270,
we find Edward and his beloved consort, Eleanor,
embarking at Portsmouth for Bourdeaux, whence
fhe English division of the crusading army was to
sail for Syria. The princess resolved to brave the
perils of the East, despite all the remonstrances of
her female friends. She had to bid farewell, also,
to her two young Sons, whom she never saw again.
They both died of some infantile disorder before
she returned to England.
The king of France, whose whole soul was en-
gaged in an enterprise which he regarded as one
eminently religious, moved with an army of 60,000
men, on this, the last great crusade. Prince Edward
carried with him his brother Edmund, his cousin
Henry, four earls, four barons, and about a thousand
men. But this small force had a great captain at
its head; while the French army, wanting such a
leader, lost its way, never arrived on the scene of
action, suffered dreadfully from sickness, and at last
left Edward, with his inconsiderable force, to do all
that might be done.
When he reached Sicily, Edward heard that Acre
was besieged by the Turks, and was in great peril.
He sent the garrison a promise of relief. But day
after day passed over, and no tidings were heard
of the French army. It was at Tunis, suffering
from disease. Discouragement at these delays be-
gan to spread, and many found excuses for returning
G 3
84 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
home. One of these was Henry, the son of the earl
of Cornwall, and cousin of the prince. He quitted the
expedition, and set out on his return; but fell into
a greater danger than those which he had left behind
him. At Viterbo, in Italy, he was met by Simon
and Guy de Montfort, who watched him while enter-
ing a church, and followed and slew him on the very
steps of the altar. This was their revenge for their
father's death at Evesham. That death had been in
a great measure caused by their own pride and arro-
gance, which had raised up many foes. And now,
as wretched outlaws, they showed themselves as
unable to bear adversity with fortitude, as they had
been to use prosperity with discretion.
All hope of the arrival of the French forces
began to vanish, and Acre was in imminent danger.
Many of Edward’s followers proposed an abandon-
ment of the expedition, and several actually took
their departure. But Edward had promised the Acre
garrison that they should have relief; and to “keep
his word ” was at all times a first principle of action
with him. He struck his breast, when others ex-
horted him to retreat, and declared that were he left
with no other follower than his groom, to Acre he
would go. Those who remained, animated by his
example, pledged themselves to be true to him ; and
without any further delay, they departed for Syria.
Entering Acre, the prince found, that but for the
aid he had brought, the place would have been sur-
rendered on the fourth day following.
“All the Latins in Palestine now crowded round
the banner of the English prince, and he soon took
the field at the head of 7,000 men.” He stormed
and took Nazareth, defeating a Saracen force which
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 85
came to its relief. A few days after, he met them
again at a place called by Hemingford, “Kakehowe,”
and again defeated them, inflicting on them the loss
of 1,000 men.
But the Saracens began now to dread the arm of
this second Coeur de Lion; and in despair of coping
with him in fair and equal warfare, they sent to him,
with some pretended message, an “assassin.” This
messenger, obtaining a private interview, contrived
to divert the prince's attention another way, and in
an instant had inflicted three wounds with a poignard.
But he had not reached a vital part, and he was
in the hands of a man of valour and decision. In
an instant he was hurled to the ground, and de-
spatched, either with his own dagger, or with a stool
suddenly snatched up. The prince's attendants
rushed in on hearing the scuffle, and fell upon the
prostrate wretch, till the prince asked them, what was
the use of striking a man who was dead” ”
The wounds given by the assassins were generally
considered to be poisoned ; and it is certain that in
Edward's case, although the hurts were not in them-
selves mortal, the surgeons found that the wounds
refused to heal. Much anxiety was felt, and Edward
perceived from the looks of his attendants, that they
entertained fears. He asked them, without hesita-
tion, “What is it that you are whispering about 7
Cannot I be cured ? Tell me, and do not be afraid.”
The English surgeon replied at once, “You may be
* The prince's minstrel is mentioned as forward in this at-
tack on the slain assassin; by which we learn, that the prince,
besides the attendance of Beck and Burnel, two churchmen of
distinguished talent, and of one or two able physicians, had also
a musician of his own among his suite.
86 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
cured, but it can only be effected by an operation of
a painful kind.” The prince answered, “Do you
promise me a cure if I submit to it?” The surgeon
answered, “I will answer for your cure.” To which
Edward replied, “Then I put myself wholly into
your hands; do with me what you will.” The sur-
geon said, “Are there any of your friends here in
whom you can entirely trust?” The prince named
several, especially his brother Edmund, and the lord
de Vesci. The surgeon then said to these two, “Do
you love your lord 2’” They said, “Yes.” “Then,”
said he, “carry this lady away, and let not her lord
see her again until I tell you.” So the princess was
carried out, weeping and crying aloud. But they
said to her, “Permit us, lady, for it is better that
you should weep, than that all England should have
to make lamentation%.”
This attempt at assassination having failed, the
Soldan, professing ignorance of the crime, proposed
a treaty of peace. Edward, disappointed of the
expected support of France, and feeling the insuf-
ficiency of his own resources, willingly accepted the
proposal, and agreed to bring his short but brilliant
enterprise to a conclusion. In July 1272, the English
quitted Palestine, proceeding first to Sicily, and
thence to Naples, and to Civita Vecchia, where the
papal court was then residing. Here the prince
asked and obtained from the pope an official con-
demnation of Simon and Guy de Montfort, and
* A Spanish writer, relating this story two centuries after, adds
a romantic incident which has found its way into most of our
histories. But it is read in no contemporary writer; and there-
fore can deserve no place in authentic history. See Appendix C.
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 87
of all other persons concerned in his cousin's as-
Sassination.
It was in Sicily that the tidings reached Edward,
first, of the death of his eldest son, and, soon after,
of his father's decease, which called him to the
throne of England. His host, the Sicilian king, was
surprised to observe the deeper grief with which the
latter news was received ; and expressed some as-
tonishment, that the loss of an aged parent should
seem to affect Edward more than that of his eldest
child. The prince made the natural and simple re-
mark, that other children might replace that which
he had lost; but that he could never have another
father.
Various incidents of this kind, at different periods
of his life, leave no room to doubt that Edward was
distinguished by the warmth of his natural affections.
He could not be blind to the failings of his parents;
yet was his attachment to both of them most un-
questionable and most sincere. As we proceed with
our story, we shall observe the same warmth of feel-
ing towards his mother, his wife, and his children.
And it is the more needful to remark these
things, inasmuch as the union of So high an intellect
and so resolute a will, with affections so warm and
so pure, is not of common occurrence; and the chief
injustice which has been done to Edward in modern
times, has consisted in denying to him all the softer
and gentler emotions of the heart. A greater wrong
has scarcely ever been perpetrated to the memory of
a departed hero. “Edward,” says old John Foxe,
“ had always been a loving child to his father,
whom he had delivered out of prison and captivity,
—and Almighty God, for his piety shewn to his
88 THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS.
father, rewarded him with great success, felicity, and
long reign.”
He was, also, through life, a man of sincerely
religious feelings. The period, indeed, in which he
lived, was one of the thickest gloom,-not even a
Wicklif or a Huss, those forerunners of the reforma-
tion, having yet appeared. Hence the faith of a
Bernard, an Anselm, or a Grossetete, was the best
and highest which any man in Edward’s position
could be expected to possess. But some such faith
as this seems to shine out at various periods of his
eventful career. For his deliverance from the usurp-
ation of earl Simon, a vow was offered, and his
pilgrimage to the Holy Land was the fulfilment of
that vow. At several other periods, similar vows
seem to have been made. One of these is particularly
noted by some of the chroniclers of his day. He
was engaged, on a particular occasion, in a game of
chess with a friend, when some sudden call summoned
him from the table. He had scarcely quitted his
seat, when a ponderous stone fell upon the very spot
where he had been sitting, a stone whose weight
would have crushed him, had he remained there.
Immediately a pilgrimage to a celebrated shrine
expressed his thankfulness. “In this preservation,”
says old Foxe, “I see the hand and mighty provi-
dence of the living God; but in Edward I note a
fault or error worthy of reprehension, in that he,
after receiving such a lively benefit at the hand of
the living God, gave thanks, not only to God, but also
to a rotten block.”
“If there be a willing mind,” says St. Paul, “it
is accepted according to that a man hath, and not
according to that he hath not.” (2 Cor. viii. 12.)
THE SUBSIDING OF THE WATERS. 89
We have already remarked, that the period in which
Edward lived, was that of the thickest gloom of
mediaeval darkness. Yet even in this midnight of
the christian church, a few lights were distinguishable.
Scarcely in the whole range of ecclesiastical history
do we meet with a brighter example than that left, in
Edward's day, by Grossetete, “holy bishop Robert,”
of Lincoln : whom Foxe designates “this godly and
learned bishop,”—“this reverend and godly bishop.”
Yet Grossetete, we cannot doubt, offered up the mass,
and in all probability prayed for the dead. Huss
and Jerome died as martyrs; yet they had scarcely
cast off any of those superstitions which, to us, form
the external deformities of Popery. Luther himself,
a century after Wicklif had preached and written,
remained a devoted Papist long after he had become
an earnest Christian ; and, in like manner, we must
regard Edward, not with reference to absolute truth,
but to that measure of truth which had been made
known to him ; trusting, that if, in the highest kind
of knowledge, only a single talent had been bestowed
upon him, still in the use of that one talent, he
shewed so honest and hearty a sedulity, as might
gain, at last, the approving award, “Thou hast
been faithful over a few things; enter thou into the
joy of thy Lord.”
CHAPTER THE FIFTH.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
I. CORONATION.—PARLIAMENT—FIRST SEVEN YEARS.
A.D. 1272–1278.
KING HENRY THE THIRD died at Westminster on
the 16th of November, 1272, and was buried on the
20th, in front of the great altar, in that noble church,
upon the re-edification of which he had lavished so
much treasure which he could but poorly spare.
On the same day, before the tomb had been closed,
the great men of the realm, the earl Warrenne, the
earl of Gloucester, and all the chief of the clergy
and laity then present, went forward to the high
altar, and swore fealty to the absent prince,—now
king of England. Three guardians, or regents, im-
mediately entered upon the government in the king's
absence :-namely, Edmund, Son of the late earl of
Cornwall, brother to Henry III.; Walter, archbishop
of York; and Gilbert, earl of Gloucester. So entire
was the loyalty and submission of all classes to the
new king, that the affairs of the realm were carried
on without difficulty during an absence of nearly two
years; and the king shewed, by the deliberateness
of his approach, his entire reliance on the attachment
of the people to his person.
He appears to have been in Sicily or Italy when
the tidings of his father's death reached him. Before
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 91
his visit to the pope at Civita Vecchia had terminated,
he was known throughout Italy to be king of England;
and as he proceeded through Tuscany and northern
Italy, “the people of all the cities came forth to meet
him, with processions and trumpets, and with loud
acclamations of “Long live king Edward I’” While
passing through that country, he received an invita-
tion or challenge to a grand tournament, which was
about to be given by the count of Chalons, a noble-
man of Some fame, and a knight of great strength and
stature. A hint was given to Edward by the pope,
that some mischief was intended, and that, as a king,
he was under no obligation to accept such a challenge;
but Edward would not stoop to avail himself of such
a privilege ; fear being a sentiment to him quite
unknown. Meanwhile, many of the English nobility
and gentry had gone to meet him, so that he rode
into Chalons at the head of 1,000 men. But the
count had assembled more than twice that number ;
and it was soon seen that a determination had been
taken to humble the English. Hemingford says, that
“the Burgundians, in their confident boastings, had
been bargaining over their wine-cups, for some days
before, for the horses and armour of the English,
already, in imagination, discomfited.”
The tournament opened, and the count, as cham-
pion of Burgundy, naturally encountered the Eng-
lish king. But his strength and skill failed to give
him any triumph over Edward. Probably his lance
shivered in the encounter; for we find that, at last,
throwing away his weapons, he had recourse to mere
bodily strength and weight. Grasping Edward round
the neck, he strove to pull him from his horse. But
to dismount the king of England was a feat which no
92 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
one had ever yet accomplished. Edward gave his
horse the spur, the noble steed sprang forward, and
the ponderous Burgundian was dragged from his
saddle and thrown upon the ground. The king, enraged
at this barbarous kind of warfare, chastised the count
while on the ground with the staff of his lance, and
refused to accept his sword, obliging him to give it
up to a mere man-at-arms, a Sore disgrace for a
knight and a noble. But now defeat had spread exas-
peration among the count’s party. Many were killed
on both sides, and the tournament became “a little
battle.” When the Burgundians were chased off the
field, the townspeople wounded many of the English;
until Edward was obliged at last to threaten that he
would burn the town. The English knights, at last,
at their leisure withdrew, having carried off all the
honors of the combat.
Edward next visited the king of France, and did
homage for all the territories which he held of him as
superior lord. He then passed northward to Gas-
cony, where he found it needful to take measures
against a troublesome noble, named Gaston de
Bierne. He also had affairs to arrange with the
countess of Limousin, and the countess of Flanders,
which detained him some time longer. At last, in
July 1274, he began his journey homewards, and on
the 2nd of August, he landed at Dover. The two
great earls, Warrenne and Gloucester, were the first
to greet his arrival; and he became, in turn, the
guest of each, at their castles of Reigate and Tun-
bridge. A week given to each of these noblemen, filled
up the time between the king's arrival and his coro-
nation.
On the 19th of August, 1274, this ceremony took
>
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 93
place. Edward, now king, and beyond all doubt the
most popular king that England had known since the
days of Alfred, was crowned at Westminster, with his
beloved Eleanor, by Robert Kilwardby, archbishop of
Canterbury. There were present, besides all the great
men of the realm, Edward's two brothers by marriage,
—Alexander, king of Scotland, and John, duke of
Bretagne, with their consorts, the sisters of the king.
On the following day king Alexander of Scotland
paid his accustomed homage.
The feast was one of royal magnificence. The
orders given are still extant; and they include 380
head of cattle; 430 sheep; 450 pigs; 18 wild boars;
278 flitches of bacon, and nearly 20,000 capons or
fowls. Provision was made for a fortnight’s festivity;
for the king's hospitality was so extensive, that
although many new buildings had been erected, it
was impossible to find room for all the guests, except
by a feast continued during many days. The citizens
of London warmly participated in the public rejoicing;
—their streets being hung with tapestry; the conduits
flowing with wine; and the wealthier men scattering
handfuls of silver out of their windows to the people.
The great nobles had devised a still more costly kind
of liberality. The chroniclers tell us, that “when
the king was seated on his throne, king Alexander of
Scotland came to do him worship, and with him an
hundred knights, mounted and accoutered: and when
they had lighted off their horses, they let the horses
go whither they would, and they that could catch them
had them to their own behoof. And after these came
Sir Edmund, the king's brother; and with him the
earl of Gloucester; and after them came the earl of
Pembroke and the earl Warrenne; and each of these
94 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
led an hundred knights, who also, when they had
alighted, let their horses go, and they that could take
them, had them to their liking.”
Such was Edward's welcome to his throne; and
never did prince more entirely deserve, or more heartily
return, the love of his people, than he who was now
opening, amidst all this rejoicing, “ his active and
splendid reign.”
But now, the feast being ended, and the sound of
the trumpets having ceased, let us begin the real
business of the new reign. The subject needs a
careful consideration, for we know of no portion of
history, the facts of which are ascertainable and
within reach, which has been so grossly distorted
and misrepresented, as that of the first twenty years
of this king's reign.
One of the most able of all our modern historians”
commences his narrative, after an opening paragraph,
in the following terms:—
“Laying aside his disputes with his neighbours as
a French prince, his active and splendid reign may
be considered as an attempt to subject the whole
island of Great Britain to his sway.”
Another justly, esteemed writeri tells us, that :
“The reign of Edward was that of a prince
whose sedate judgment and active talents advanced
the civilization and power of his country. It may
be considered under four heads:—his incorporation
of Wales; his wars in Scotland ; his foreign trans-
actions; and his internal regulations.”
Hume, Henry, Hallam, and most other modern
* Sir J. Mackintosh. + Mr. Sharon Turner.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 95
writers, take the same course; fixing their eyes chiefly
on the invasion of Scotland, and the contest with the
two earls; and forgetting that Edward had reigned
for nearly a quarter of a century before either of
these occurrences took place. They thus, with one
consent, persist in taking a telescopic view of this
reign ; placing a glass to their eyes which brings dis-
tant objects near, but which throws quite out of view
those which are close at hand. But, like all other
departures from truth, this course is essentially un-
just. It is as if an historian should commence his
narrative of the reign of George III. with a sketch
of the French revolution ; or open a biography of
the duke of Wellington with an account of his op-
position to the Reform Bill.
The simplest way of rectifying all these untrue
representations, is, by a plain and accurate statement
of the facts, in their own order. It is only necessary
to narrate the several events, just as they really
occurred ; and all these fictions at once vanish away.
But as “annals,” properly so called, or records of
events recounted year by year, might be too formal to
retain any interest, we will group the events of five or
six years in each chapter, and in this manner we
shall soon accomplish a survey of the first twenty
years.
Edward’s arrival in England, then, and his coro-
nation, took place in the autumn of 1274. Imme-
diately after this, he would naturally find a great
variety of questions waiting for his decision; questions
concerning the various establishments of the crown,
its castles, palaces, forests, the royal household, and
the royal revenues; all of which were now, for the
first time for at least a century, to be put into
96 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
a state of order and efficiency. The regulation of
all these affairs would necessarily occupy the re-
maining weeks of the year, and we can feel no Sur-
prise that the meeting of Edward's first parliament
did not take place until February 1275. In this year
the actual business of the reign commenced. And
in what manner does it commence 2 Surely it is
strange, that no historian should have pointed out,
with any sort of emphasis or particularity, this great
epoch,-the real daybreak of the English constitution.
Most writers have been led astray by the mere
phrase “Parliament,” and have indulged in re-
searches and disquisitions on the early history of
those assemblies. Much discussion has taken place on
the question, whether Simon de Montfort, or Edward,
ought to have had the credit of first adding the
borough representatives to the English parliament”.
But such questions are comparatively insignificant
and immaterial. “Councils,” though not until Ed-
ward’s time called “Parliaments,” had existed in
former reigns; but they were merely called to de-
liberate on granting the king “an aid.” Never,
until the very end of Henry IIId’s reign, when the
prince's influence began to be felt, was any par-
liament asked to assist in making any laws. In like
manner, parliaments existed in France under the
most despotic of the Bourbons, and under more
recent despotisms still, without implying the existence
of liberty; for these parliaments were not, properly
speaking, LEGISLATURES. It is the peculiar glory of
Edward's reign, that he first, and perhaps alone,
among all the sovereigns of the mediaeval time, had
* See Appendix D.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 97
the wisdom to conceive, and the noble courage to
Carry into execution, a plan by which the people
should take part in their own government, and should
assist in making the laws under which they were to
live. From the first moment of his assuming any
influence or power, the two ideas, of a system of
Laws, and of a Legislature in which the people should
participate, seem to have been always present in his
mind. These principles were again and again enun-
ciated, and always with increased breadth and fulness,
during his whole life, advancing years having no
effect in chilling or contracting that noble heart.
During his reign of five-and-thirty years, we shall
find the popular branch of the legislature continually
growing and increasing under the king's fostering
care; the first idea appearing in the preamble to the
Statute of Marlborough, in his father's reign ; and
the latest parliament of his own, which met in 1307,
containing representatives from no fewer than a hun-
dred and sixty-five of the cities and boroughs of
England.
John Locke, when describing, four centuries after,
the nature and characteristics of a free state, said:—
“The freedom of men under government is, to have
a standing rule to live by, common to every one of
that society, and made by the legislative power
erected in it.” Hence, he argues, “absolute monarchy
is inconsistent with civil Society, and so can be no
* form of civil government’ at all.” For the very
object, he urges, “ of civil society, is, to authorize a
legislature to make laws for us, as the public good
shall require.” In a state of nature, he adds, “there
wants an established, settled, known law ; received
and allowed by common consent to be the standard
H
98 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
of right and wrong; and the common measure to
decide all controversies between them.” And it is,
he reminds us, from a sense of the want of this, that
men give up the freedom of a state of nature, and
join together in civil society. Now, under the Nor-
man kings, absolute monarchy, checked only by the
power of the great barons, had been the system of
government in England. The only abatement or
modification known, was that vouchsafed in certain
charters, which were in most cases merely local,
and which the king usually assumed to exist only
during his pleasure. Magna Charta was the first
great blow struck at the fortress of despotism ; but
Magna Charta, while it was, indeed, a great and
noble statute, said nothing about either laws or
legislatures for future times. It is noticed in a
public document, as “remarkable, that no article of
Magna Charta has reference to the previous existence
of any assembly for the purpose of legislation; or
contains any provision for the calling of any such
assembly for the future.” Soon after this began the
transition-period of the weak and incapable Henry.
Our present statute book opens with his reign. But
during those fifty-six years, only six laws or decrees
were framed. The first of these is styled “the Pro-
visions of Merton,” and it recites, that “it was
provided at the court of our lord the king, held at
Merton.” Next comes “the Statute of Ireland,”
which is merely a royal proclamation. Theenty years
pass over, and then we have “a Provision for Leap-
year,” which is also a royal proclamation. Next,
three years after, “Provisions made by the king and
his council.” Then, seven years after, “the Dictum
of Kenilworth,” which is only “an award between
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
the king and his commons.” But lastly, towards
the end of Henry’s reign, and when prince Edward
naturally began to take the lead in the king's council,
We find for the first time, a Statute,_the first docu-
ment So called,—in the preamble of which it is
recounted, that “the more discreet men of the realm
being called together.” •
Edward, and John Locke, lived in different ages;
but the king, in his day, was as wise and as just
as the philosopher in his ; and if Edward had no
John Locke to guide him, he had one of a very
kindred spirit. Old Bracton, one of the earliest and
ablest of our English lawyers, had thus written :-
“The king ought not to be subject to man, but to
God, and to the law ; for the law maketh the king.
Let the king, therefore, render to the law, what
the law hath invested in him with regard to
others, dominion and power : for he is not truly
hing where will and pleasure rule, and not the law.”
And again, “The king also hath a superior: namely,
God; and also the law, by which he was made a king.”
Voluntarily, therefore, and right royally, does
Edward stand forth, at once, in the very opening of
his reign, as a legislator. Powerful in arms, and
strong in the goodwill of his people, it was open to
him, in the fullest sense of the word, to choose his
own course; and, without hesitation, he takes up, as
his first and most urgent duty, the task of providing
his people with wholesome laws. But, at the outset,
and as a principle inseparably connected, he asso-
ciates with the work of legislation, the twin-idea of
a legislature. No demand is addressed to him ; no
“pressure from without” is applied. He might, had
he chosen to do so, have promulgated, like his father,

H 3
100 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
“Provisions made in the court of our lord the
king.” But he chose the nobler and the wiser
course. From the very first, he associated the people
with himself in the work of legislation; and accord-
ingly, now, for the first time, do these all-important
words appear on the statute book of England:—
“These be the Acts of king Edward, made at
Westminster, at the first parliament general after
his coronation; by his council, and by the assent
of archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, and all the
commonalty of the realm, thither summoned.”
This fact ought not to be overlooked ; inasmuch
as many of our historians shew a disposition to re-
present the very existence of the house of Commons
as having arisen from the necessities of the crown.
But this is one of those fictions with which the
history of this reign is so commonly encumbered.
It was in the very morning of Edward's power and
popularity, and when his course was entirely in his
own choice, that he unhesitatingly enunciated the
same principle which in all his after-life he steadily
maintained ; that “what concerns all, should be by
all approved; and that common dangers should
be met by remedies provided in common.” The
structure and machinery, indeed, of the house of
Commons received enlargements and improvements
from time to time; but the principle upon which it
rests came forth, complete, from the noble and fear-
less mind of this great king.
In some way or other, then, “the Commonalty”
was summoned even to this, Edward’s first parlia-
ment. Possibly, “la Communauté de la Terre"
may have meant, the chief tenants of the crown, or
the principal citizens of the metropolis, thereto called
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 101
or invited. The fact itself, however, is alluded to by
more than one of the old chroniclers*.
So much for the legislature; in principle already
perfect, but in form to be largely improved and ex-
tended in future years. Now let us look, for a
moment, at the legislation. And in what a frank
and noble strain opens the great “Statute of West-
minster :”—
“Because our lord the king hath great desire to
redress the state of the realm in such things as re-
Quire amendment: for the common profit of the holy
church and of the realm ; and because the state of
the holy church hath been evil kept, and the people
otherwise entreated than they ought to be ; and the
peace less kept, and the laws less used, and offenders
less punished than they ought to be, the king hath
ordained, by his council, and by the assent of arch-
bishops, bishops, earls, barons, and all the common-
alty of the realm, these Acts underwritten, which he
intendeth to be necessary and profitable to the whole
realm.”
But what was the statute itself, which is thus re-
commended by its framers ? Let lord Campbell, the
present lord chancellor of England, answer this
question. He says, L
“The Statute of Westminster deserves the name
of a code, rather than an act of parliament. Its
object was, to correct abuses, to supply defects, and
to remodel the administration of justice.” . . . “It
protects the property of the church from violence
and spoliation: It provides for the freedom of popu-
lar elections: It contains a strong declaration to
* Annals of Waverly, etc.
102 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
enforce the enactments of Magna Charta against
excessive fines: It enumerates and corrects the
great abuses of tenure; particularly with regard to
the marriage of wards: It regulates the levying of
tolls: It corrects and restrains the power of the
king's escheator, and other officers under the crown:
It amends the criminal law : It embraces the subject
of procedure, both in civil and criminal matters; in-
troducing many regulations with a view to render it
cheaper, more simple, and more expeditious.”
Such, then, was the first great Act of Edward’s
reign. Even if it had remained alone, it would have
merited especial praise and honor; how much more
So, when it was merely the first step in a long course
of wise and upright legislation ? But, simultaneously
with the calling of this memorable parliament at
Westminster, the beginning of English parliamentary
legislation,-other important reforms were under-
taken and energetically carried on. Edward had
seen with an observing eye the disorders and calami-
ties of his father’s reign ; and had traced them back
to their principal Source,—the negligent improvi-
dence which pervaded the management of the royal
revenues. At once, therefore, without waiting for the
meeting of parliament, he issued a royal commission,
to ascertain and report to him, without delay, the
royalties and revenues appertaining to the crown; the
state and particulars of the crown lands, with the
tenants and the terms of their tenure. Thus, pro-
bably before a year had elapsed, Edward was provided
with a correct view of the revenues on which he
might ordinarily rely; and so judiciously were these
revenues managed, during the whole of his reign,
that, while he never applied to parliament for aid,
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 103
except on public and special grounds, he was at all
times enabled to exert a truly royal munificence;
dispensing liberal rewards to all who served him, and
being largely charitable to the poor.
One transaction of national moment had taken
place, while Edward was on his journey, which both
augmented his popularity, and also helped to increase
his revenues. About the time of his departure for the
East, a quarrel sprang up between England and Flan-
ders, which, for two or three years, sorely troubled
both countries. The countess of Flanders imagined
that she had a claim upon king Henry for a yearly pen-
sion of five hundred marks; and finding some diffi-
culty made as to its payment, she took the summary
and violent course of confiscating all the property
of English merchants which was found in the ware-
houses of Flanders. In taking this arbitrary step,
she evidently calculated on the weakness of the aged
king, and on the absence of the prince in the Holy
Land. Reprisals naturally followed, and the quarrel
soon grew into bitterness and rancour. News of this
state of things reached Edward while on his journey
home, and, with his usual Sagacity and decision, he
sent orders immediately to stop the export of wool.
This reduced the manufactories of Flanders to a state
of paralysis and destitution, and forced the countess
to seek for peace. By Edward's appointment, her
son met him at Montreuil in July 1274 ; and in a
few days a treaty was concluded. In this treaty
Edward took care to insist upon a clause, providing
full compensation for those English merchants who
had suffered the loss of their goods. With this treaty
in his hand, Edward landed in August at Dover. The
merchants were naturally well pleased with this
104 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
instance of the king's attention to their interests; and
they at once proposed, as an acknowledgment, to
submit to a duty of half-a-mark on every sack of
wool exported, and a mark on every last of leather.
These duties were accordingly granted to the king in
the parliament of 1275; and we here again notice
the king's spontaneous assertion of the fundamental
principle of a free government. It is broadly stated
in the “Grant of the New Customs,” that it is “made
by the archbishops, bishops, earls, barons, and
‘communitates’ of the kingdom of England.” From
the opening of his reign to its close, the king shews
a constant readiness to recognize, as an essential
part of the commonwealth, “the commonalty of the
realm of England.”
Another royal commission was also issued about
this time, to inquire into the position and general
conduct of the sheriffs, bailiffs, and other local officers.
One judicious regulation soon grew out of these
inquiries; by which it was provided, that the sheriffs
should be chosen exclusively from among those who
were possessed of landed property within their re-
spective counties.
The controversy with Wales, and with its prince,
Llewellyn, now began to open. It will be necessary
to look into it with calmness and an enquiring spirit;
Seeing that this is one of the great transactions of
Edward’s life, concerning which our ancient and our
modern historians are completely at variance. Our
old chroniclers describe the king as “slow to all
manner of strife: ”—our moderns represent him as
hurried by his active energy and his restless ambition
to “undertake the enterprise” of the conquest of
Wales. Let us, then, endeavour to trace, step by step,
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 105
the progress of the quarrel, and thus we shall arrive
at a just conclusion, whether the earlier view, or
the later, is the nearest to the truth.
To Edward's coronation, the prince of Wales, as
Well as the king of Scotland, had been summoned.
The Scottish king appeared, took a foremost place in
the Solemnity, and, the next day, paid the homage which
was Edward's due. But Llewellyn was absent. He
did not dispute the king's claim, on that point not
a doubt was ever started; but he alleged that there
was so much enmity between him and some of the
lords marchers, that he could not visit the English
metropolis without peril.
Edward shewed no resentment at the prince's
absence; on the contrary, to meet the difficulty
which he had started, he offered to go to Shrews-
bury, and to receive Llewellyn's homage there ; but
the Welsh prince still raised objections. At this
point, had there been any eagerness on Edward’s
side to provoke a quarrel, he might have sent a
peremptory summons; and might, on Llewellyn's
continued disobedience, have pronounced him con-
tumacious, and his fief a forfeiture.
But he took no such measures. He reserved the
question for the consideration of his parliament; and,
at one of the sessions of 1275, it was taken into
consideration. It was then resolved, that Llewellyn
should be summoned a third time, and that the place
named should be Chester, that city being the nearest
point to his Snowdon home.
This mild and forbearing course is utterly at
variance with the view taken by many historians,
who represent Edward as eager for the conquest
of Wales. Whenever, in those days, a superior lord
166 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
desired to possess himself of the fief held by one of
his vassals, the course to be taken was extremely
simple, and generally understood. About seventy
years before this period, Philip of France resolved
to seize upon Normandy. He summoned John, Ed-
ward's grandfather, before him, to answer certain
charges; and on John's failure to appear, he passed
Sentence, adjudging him to forfeit to his superior
lord all his seigniories and fiefs in France. From
that moment, Normandy was lost to England, and
united to France. In the same manner, in 1294, an-
other Philip summoned Edward before him, and on
his non-appearance, declared Gascony forfeited, and
took possession of that province. Had Edward been
possessed with that eager ambition which some writers
impute to him, he would never have hesitated to take
a similar course; and, had he taken that course,
Wales would have been conquered and annexed in
1276.
But, although we can have no doubt that so
sagacious a prince as Edward saw from the begin-
ning, the desirableness, both for Wales and for
England, of the union of the two countries, still
his whole life proves him to have been singularly
careful not to violate the rights of others. Of this,
his after-history will furnish many instances. He
meant, no doubt, from the beginning, to terminate
that state of things which had existed for many
years past, and which Matthew Paris thus describes:—
“The Welsh carried fire and slaughter into the border
counties. They gave themselves up to slaughter,
incendiarism, and pillage, till they had reduced the
whole border to an uninhabitable desert.” Edward
purposed, doubtless, to put an end to all these hor-
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 107
rors; but the course he proposed to follow was a
legitimate and pacific one. He desired first to ob-
tain Llewellyn's oath of homage and fealty ; and
then he would have prescribed to him the rule which,
as a motto, was afterwards inscribed on his own
tomb. Pactum serva, “keep your covenant,”—would
have decided the whole question. He was willing to
have the Welsh chief for a loyal vassal and pacific
neighbour ; but this was a position which Llewellyn
evidently disliked to take. Yet, to give up his claim
to homage, and to leave Llewellyn in the position of
an independent sovereign, would be to surrender one
of the rights of the English crown ; while, to admit
his right to perpetuate these border-hostilities, would
be to sacrifice the interests of the English people.
Still, always loath even to appear to violate any
right possessed by another, Edward sent this third
summons to the Welsh prince, calling upon him to
appear at Chester in August 1275; and, to obviate
his alleged difficulty, the king sent him a safe-con-
duct for his coming, abiding, and return,--a most
unusual condescension, and one which places in a
strong light Edward’s desire to bring the matter to a
peaceful conclusion. The Welsh prince, however,
rejected the offer ; refusing to quit his home unless.
he had sent to him, as hostages, the king's son, the
chancellor, and the earl of Gloucester, a demand
which one historian justly describes as “insolent.”
And so ended the negotiations with Wales, for the
year 1275.
It was in the month of February in this year,
that an event had occurred to which we have already
alluded. A British ship, cruizing in the channel,
happened to fall in with a French vessel, which was
108 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
conveying to Llewellyn his expected bride, Eleanor
de Montfort, under the care of her brother Almeric.
These two young people were brought to England,
and presented to the king. As the question be-
tween Edward and Llewellyn was still under discus-
sion,-the Welsh prince refusing to pay that homage
which was Edward’s due, – the king desired his
young cousin to be taken to Windsor, and directed
that she should remain in the queen’s own charge,
until the question between him and Llewellyn was
decided.
In the month of October of this year, 1275,
another parliament was held at Westminster, in
which an aid of a fifteenth was granted to the king,
to clear off all remaining liabilities arising out of his
visit to the Holy Land. Some orders were also made
with reference to the Jews; and notice was taken of
Llewellyn's continued absence,—he having received
a fourth summons to appear in this parliament. In
the next year, 1276, a council or parliament was
held at Westminster, and another at Winchester, to
each of which the Welsh prince was duly summoned.
. He had now been called, in due form, no fewer than
sia, times; but to none of these summonses had he
paid the least attention. Sentence of contumacy
would consequently have been passed, had not the
archbishop and some of the bishops prayed for a still
further delay, in order that they might try the effect
of a pacific mission of their own. Their desire
was granted; and they accordingly sent the arch-
deacon of Canterbury into Wales, to confer with
Llewellyn personally, and to bring him, if possible,
to adopt a more reasonable course. The archdeacon
returned, and made his report to another parliament,
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 109
which met on the 13th of October, at Westminster.
To that parliament Llewellyn sent letters, demanding
to have the lady Eleanor sent to him with all her
attendants, and proposing to come to Montgomery
or Oswestry to do his homage, provided a safe-con-
duct were sent to him, guaranteed by the archbishop
and the archdeacon, by the bishop of Winchester, and
by the earls of Warrenne, Gloucester, Iincoln, and
Norfolk. He thus implied, evidently, that the king's
pledge of safe-conduct was not sufficient /
This insolent communication naturally excited an
universal feeling of anger. The parliament at once
declared Llewellyn contumacious. The sentence was
read and passed at a full parliament, on the 12th of
November, 1276; and it was also ordered, that the
military tenants of the crown should be summoned
to attend at Worcester by Midsummer following, or
sooner if the king thought fit, to proceed forthwith
into Wales.
In the same parliament two statutes, one “Of
Coroners,” and the other “Of Bigamy,” appear to
have been passed.
More than two years had now been spent in these
repeated attempts to bring the Welsh prince to adopt
a rational and pacific course ; and any further delay
would have savored of irresolution or weakness.
Yet the king allowed the archbishop to make one
more effort at mediation. He wrote to Llewellyn a
persuasive letter; but this attempt had no better
result than the preceding one. As the time for
action drew near, another parliament was summoned,
in which an aid of a twelfth was granted to the king
for the expenses of the war. In the spring, the
royal forces began to assemble, and Roger Morti-
110 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
mer was appointed to their command. The chief
men of South Wales speedily sent in their submis-
sion ; and were “received to the king's grace.”
David and Roderick, the brothers of Llewellyn,
joined the king, and were honorably received by
him. Llewellyn deemed the recesses of Snowdon to
be inaccessible; and hence argued that he could
never be overcome. But Edward was, both by na-
tural talents and by experience, becoming a general
of the highest order. He had prepared, in the
spring, a naval force in the Cinque ports; which,
when the proper season had arrived, sailed round to
Anglesea, landed some troops there, and thus re-
duced the island. Llewellyn now found himself shut
in on every side; and that same distress for provi-
sions which he hoped might scatter the English forces,
began to impend over himself.
As the autumn passed over, and the winter began
to approach, the courage of the Welsh prince gave
way; and he asked for peace. Had Edward’s views
been those which are often attributed to him, he
might now have easily and fully accomplished them.
He had all England at his back, to furnish him with
men and supplies; while the Welsh prince, cooped
up in his barren mountains, must, in a few weeks,
have surrendered at discretion ; and thus Wales
would have been Edward’s own. But he shewed his
moderation and clemency, by granting peace to
Llewellyn the moment he asked for it. On the 9th
of November a treaty was framed; and it was ratified
the next day by the king himself. In this treaty
Llewellyn consented to cede certain “cantreds "
lying between Chester and Conway; to pay the king
a tribute of 1,000 marks per annum for the island of
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 111
Anglesea; to pay £50,000 for the expenses of the
war; and to give ten hostages for the fulfilment of
these engagements.
These terms were in all respects fair and equitable.
Llewellyn, by the established laws of nations, at that
time existing, had forfeited his principality. Its
forfeiture had been legitimately declared, and the
king had shewn that he had the power to carry that
sentence into execution. Hence, to restore him to
his former seat, upon merely ceding some disputed
territory, and engaging to pay the expenses of the
war, was liberal treatment. But Edward lost no time
in proving that he desired to be more than liberal or
just. The very next day, he remitted the fine of
f50,000. Soon after, he gave up, also, the stipulated
tribute for Anglesea; and restored the hostages.
Hume, with his usual injustice towards Edward,
suggests that the fine was probably remitted, because
“ the poverty of the country made it impossible that
it should be levied.” But is it not obvious, that a
designing and ungenerous conqueror would have been
pleased with the opportunity of retaining Llewellyn
as his debtor ; and would soon have exacted territory
in lieu of money, if the latter could not be produced ?
It is abundantly clear that Edward’s real purpose
was, if possible, to make Llewellyn his loyal vassal
and friend. He had, first, exhibited towards him,
for more than two years, the greatest patience and
forbearance. Then, when it was no longer possible
to abstain from acting hostilely, he so manoeuvred
as to force the Welsh prince to surrender. Having
brought him to this point, all afterwards was kind-
ness and generosity. He almost instantly remitte
all the burdens laid on Llewellyn by the treaty. He
112 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
then invited him to visit him at Westminster, where,
accordingly, the Welsh prince spent Christmas. He
did not “send him Eleanor de Montfort,” as Llewellyn
had demanded; but he prepared a princely wedding,
at his own expense, in Worcester Cathedral; where,
the following summer, the Welsh prince received his
bride, in the presence of the king and queen, and
of many of the nobles of England. But there was
a still greater benefit which it was in Edward's power
to confer on Llewellyn, and to this he gave his imme-
diate attention.
David, the brother of Llewellyn, had always been
at variance with him. On one occasion the two
brothers met on the battle-field, and David was taken
prisoner. In the late contest he had taken part with
the English. A designing and ungenerous conqueror
would have required Llewellyn to receive him back,
and would have taken advantage of the feud existing
between them. But Edward was at all times gene-
rous, and he seems to have resolved to win both
these chiefs by benefits and favors. He took David
with him to England, created him an earl, gave him
f 1,000 a-year in land, (equal to £15,000 a-year in the
present day,) and married him to an earl’s daughter.
Llewellyn was thus relieved from the rivalry and
hostility of his brother; while upon David himself
the most substantial benefits were conferred. Thus,
“Edward flattered himself,” says Lingard, “that
what he had begun by force, he had completed by
kindness. To Llewellyn he had behaved rather with
the affection of a friend, than the severity of an
enemy; and his letters to that prince breathe a spirit
of moderation which does honor to his heart. To
David he had been a bounteous protector. He had
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 113
granted him the honor of knighthood, extensive es-
tates in both countries, and the hand of the daughter
of the earl of Derby.” Very reasonably, therefore,
might the king hope and believe, that he had brought
this Welsh quarrel to a peaceful and happy con-
clusion. The following Christmas saw Llewellyn and
his bride spending that festive season with the king
and queen, in the royal palace of Westminster.
Before, however, we quit this year, 1278, we must
notice a few other circumstances which occurred in
the course of it.
Towards the end of the preceding reign, a riot
had occurred in the city of Norwich, arising out of a
quarrel between the monks and the people of the city.
Being the stronger party, the people had sacked the
monastery and burnt the cathedral. King Henry
was enraged at this outbreak, and laid a heavy fine
upon the city, which fine had been employed during
Several years past in the restoration of these buildings.
After a lapse of six or seven years, the new cathedral
was now ready for consecration ; and on Advent
Sunday the king and queen attended that ceremony,
accompanied by many earls and barons, as well as
by the bishops of Norwich, London, Hereford, and
Waterford.
Returning to the metropolis, we next find the
king paying a visit to Glastonbury; and there can
be no doubt that he took the opportunity, at the same
time, of visiting his mother, the queen Eleanor of
the last reign, who had entered the convent of Am-
bresbury. The king and queen were present on
Easter Sunday at the services in the renowned abbey
of Glastonbury; where they remained several days.
So great were the privileges of this place, that even
I
114 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
the king himself was laid under some restraint while
abiding in it. His deputy high-marshal was not
allowed to exercise his office; the king's judges were
held to have no authority; and even a man who had
incurred the penalties of lasa majestas was not allowed
to be punished.
The king's chief object, in visiting this venerated
place, was to behold the alleged tombs and remains
of king Arthur and his queen. On the Wednesday of
Easter-week, there was a solemn opening of these
tombs; and remains, said to be those of the renowned
British king, were exhibited to Edward and his con-
sort. The king then deposited in the tomb, which
was immediately re-closed, a written record of his
visit and inspection,
In the summer, going into the west to celebrate
the marriage of Llewellyn and Eleanor at Worcester,
the king held, at the neighbouring city of Gloucester,
a parliament, at which the important “Statutes of
Gloucester” were passed. And in their preamble
we again notice the recognition of the all-important
principle, that the functions of legislation belong
to all orders in the state. That preamble runs
thus:—
“The king himself, providing for the amendment
of his realm, and for a fuller administration of justice,
as the good of the kingly office requireth, having
called unto him the more discreet persons of his
realm, as well of the greater as of the less, It is
established and ordained,” &c.
Returning to town, the king directed his attention
to two other very important matters. The first con-
cerned the state of the coinage, which had been for
some time past exceedingly depreciated. As this
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 115
was chiefly attributed to the practice of “clipping,”
it was obviously necessary, before issuing any new
money, to strike a blow at this nefarious practice;
and the measures adopted by the king were marked
with his usual energy. Two classes of men were
chiefly implicated,—the Jews, who were everywhere
the principal money-lenders, and the goldsmiths, who,
by their profession, were largely concerned in the
purchase and sale of the precious metals. On one
evening, towards the close of this year, all the Jew
money-changers were apprehended, and their houses
searched. On a second, all the goldsmiths were simi-
larly visited. Tools for money-clipping, and large
Quantities of clipped coin, were discovered. A special
commission was issued for the trial of these cases;
and it is clear that there was no precipitation in the
proceedings; for the sittings, commencing after the
Christmas holidays, continued until Lent 1279, and
were resumed after Easter. Between two and three
hundred were capitally convicted and punished; most
of whom were Jews. So soon as this severe check
had been given to this class of offenders, measures
were taken for the issue of a new coinage. Exchanges
were opened in various places, at which the old coin
was taken in at its value, and new money issued.
“Edward,” says Rapin, “is supposed to be the
first king that perfectly fixed the standard of our
coin.” -
About this period, too, another important scrutiny
was begun, but one which involved difficulties of so
peculiar a kind, that even the power and energy of
this great king proved insufficient to accomplish his
purpose. “During the troubles of the last two
reigns,” says Rapin, “divers persons had appropriated
I 3
116 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
to themselves lands to which they had no just right.
To remedy this evil, and to give to every one his
own,” “it was ordered, that all who were in posses-
sion of contested estates, should produce their titles
before the judges, in order that their validity might
be examined.”
The substantial justice of this enquiry could not
be questioned; but to carry such an investigation
through the land, would probably have raised a com-
motion resembling a civil war. One of the greatest
lords in the realm, earl Warrenne”, who had fought by
the king's side at Lewes, and who had entertained
him at Reigate Castle on his landing in 1274, when
called upon to produce his title-deeds to the judges,
drew an ancient sword, exclaiming, “It was by this
that my progenitors won these lands; and it is by this
that I mean to maintain my right.”
The earl was a vehement, impulsive man, as he
had shewn by his attack on Alan de la Zouch, in West-
minster Hall, in the last reign; but he was ever a
firm friend to the reigning family, and if he resented
this demand, it could be no matter of doubt that
the Bohuns and Bigods would be still more contu-
macious. Edward has received from all sides the
praise of wisdom and sagacity ; and he shewed his
possession of these qualities, more than once or twice,
by frankly relinquishing rights which it would have
been unwise, though not unjust, to press. The
* The proper style and title of this nobleman was, “John de
Warrenne, earl of Surry;” and Sir Walter Scott speaks of him as
“Surry,” just as earl Simon is styled “Leicester.” But his
common designation in the chronicles of the time, and even in
state-papers, is, “earl Warrenne,” or “earl de Warrenne;” and
we adopt their practice.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 117
opposition of the earl decided this question : and the
scrutiny, however desirable and proper it might have
been, was abandoned.
The late visit to king Arthur's tomb had shewn
the tendency of the king's thoughts and feelings; and
it can be no matter of surprise that his friends and
followers shared in those feelings. Hence we trace
without difficulty the origin of a festal celebration,
on the part of Roger Mortimer, so long the king's
personal friend, and who now, doubtless by Edward’s
favor, dwelt in the noble castle of Kenilworth. In that
most appropriate spot, and honored by the presence
of Edward and his queen, Mortimer held a round-
table, at which there assembled a hundred knights
and their ladies, “all clad in silk.” Tournaments in
the morning, and round-table festivities for the rest
of the day, filled up the time from the 21st to the 30th
of September. The giver of the feast was greeted,
before its close, by the title of earl of March.
And now the seventh year of Edward's reign drew
to a close,_or, reckoning from his coronation, the
fifth. And surely he had done much in that short
period. He had ended, he hoped, the troubles arising
from Wales; and bound both the Welsh princes to him
by the most substantial obligations. He had ascer-
tained and regulated the revenues and expenditure of
the crown. He had “fixed the standard” of the
nation’s money; and had put a stop to the nefarious
practices of those who lived by debasing it. He had
given the people the vast advantage of Several
admirable laws; but, which was most of all, and
above all, he had commenced the reign of law, as
distinguished from the dominion of absolute power.
Foremost of all the men of his time in true discern-
118 * THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
ment and in honesty and nobleness of purpose, he
had frankly stated, more than once or twice, that he
regarded it as the first duty of a king to furnish the
people with just and equitable laws, and to provide
for their proper execution. But never once did he
assume, that the making of such laws rested on his
sole pleasure; or that even the king and the nobles
of the land, when united, formed a complete legisla-
tive assembly. From the very opening of his reign,
he enunciated the principle, which to its close he
kept invariably in view, that a proper legislature is
one which contains within it, as far as may be prac-
ticable, the nation,-the various classes of the people,
in all their ranks and gradations. It is for his wisdom
in discerning this, and his noble fearlessness in pro-
claiming it, that Edward deserves the first place
among our English kings.
CHAPTER THE FIFTH.
II.
T H E F I R S T E N G L IS H KIN G.
II.-STATUTE OF MORTMAIN–INSURRECTION IN WALES.–
WALES SUBDUED–STATUTES OF WALES.
A.D. 1279–1284.
THE Welsh controversy had thus, apparently,
been brought to a close. Llewellyn had been subdued ;
had been generously treated; and could now have no
excuse for any further turbulence. David, always
Quarrelsome and disorderly, had been laid under no
ordinary obligations. From a mere mountain-chief,
at war with his elder brother, discontented and poor,
he had been raised to the position of an opulent
English nobleman. That he should forget all these
benefits, and indulge his irascible and restless pro-
pensities to his own grievous loss and ruin, would
Seem to be a folly which no one could anticipate.
The king's plans for the entire termination of these
disputes had been framed with equal wisdom and
liberality; and their failure, through the irreclaim-
able fractiousness of the Welsh chiefs, was a thing
Quite beyond any human calculation. Yet there is
Some reason to believe, that, filled with national
pride and vanity, and regarding themselves as the
rightful owners of the whole realm of England, all
the Welsh chiefs looked forward to a day when the
Saxon and Norman intruders should be entirely
120 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
expelled or subdued; and the ancient Britons should
again bear rule over the land. One circumstance
had recently attracted their attention, and raised
their hopes. Traditional prophecies had been handed
down, that when the English money should become
found, a Welsh prince should reign in London; and
Edward’s recent coinage was regarded with interest,
as indicating the arrival of the predicted period.
Still, for more than four years, there seemed to be
entire peace between Wales and England; and the
king was enabled to direct his attention to other
matters of Some moment.
It was in the year 1279, that at a parliament
held in Westminster, the king passed the greatly-
needed Statute of Mortmain. All lawyers concur in
assigning a high place to this important measure.
We notice it, chiefly, as exhibiting the breadth and
Sagacity of Edward's character, and the honesty and
wisdom of his chief advisers.
Edward himself was one of the most religious
kings that ever sat upon the throne of England; and
his chief counsellor was Robert Burnel, bishop of
Bath and Wells. The king shewed his own sincere
piety, throughout his reign, by many special and
voluntary acts of worship and religious retirement.
Superstition mingled with all the religion of that
day, but Edward did not allow this superstition to
paralyze his understanding, or to blind his intellect,
when acting as a ruler and a framer of laws. He
saw, on every side, the enormous increase of the
church's wealth ; and the apparent probability that
it would, ere long, become the owner of most of the
land of England. This increase, during his father's
prolonged reign, had been prodigious. Visible and
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 121
striking facts proclaimed this on every side. Lon-
don was, at that time, a city of about one-twentieth
of the size of the present metropolis; yet, in the
midst of this insignificant place, compared with the
London of modern times, arose a cathedral measur-
ing 690 feet in length, and 534 in its extremest height,
or, probably, about twice the size of Sir Christopher
Wren's cathedral. Meanwhile, in the neighbouring
village of Westminster, there was now uprearing
itself that splendid and spacious abbey-church which
we still possess. And these great works were merely
specimens of what the clergy were effecting in all
parts of the kingdom.
The king himself was a liberal donor, in his life-
time, to the church of Westminster and to various
other religious edifices; but he saw that the chief
means by which the ecclesiastics of that day con-
trived to augment the landed property of their
churches and monasteries, was by practising on the
hopes and fears of wealthy men, in the hour of sick-
ness and approaching death. There was a plain moral
wrong in much of this monetary traffic in the Sup-
posed destinies of the dying; and, if not controlled,
it seemed likely to give the church possession, in the
course of another century or two, of most of the
landed estates of England. Hence, by one bold
and well-conceived measure, for which Edward’s
chancellor, as well as Edward himself, deserves im-
mortal honor, a substantial check was given to this
whole system of death-bed gifts to the church, by
the great and important Law of Mortmain.
Soon after this, Edward, finding all things at
peace at home, paid a short visit to the continent.
The death of the queen of Castile had transferred to
122 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
her daughter Eleanor, Edward’s consort, the county
of Ponthieu ; and to obtain seisin of this territory,
and to do homage for it, he visited the king of
France at Amiens, where he made but an ordinary
visit. From France he brought to England, on his
return, some fine jasper-stones, which became part
of the noble monument which he was now raising in
the church of Westminster to the memory of the
king his father. It was shortly after this, that he
found it necessary to repress some overweening pre-
tensions of the higher ecclesiastics. John Peckham,
who had succeeded Kilwardby in the see of Canter-
bury, had recently convened a synod at Reading, in
which various canons were passed, tending to sepa-
rate ecclesiastics and ecclesiastical property from
the rest of the kingdom, and to exempt them from
the operation of the statute and common law. On
hearing of these high pretensions, the king sum-
moned the archbishop before his council, and obliged
him to revoke and cancel all canons which pretended
to overrule or set aside the laws and ordinances of
the realm.
It was about this period that an application of a
peculiar kind was remitted to the king from Ireland.
A considerable number of persons there, attracted,
probably, by the news of the king's legislative im-
provements, sent over a petition to be allowed the
benefit of the English laws. They tendered also, in
conformity with the custom of the times, a fine of
8,000 marks, for the enjoyment of this privilege.
The king was quite disposed to comply with their
request; and wrote to Robert de Ufford, chief justi-
ciary of Ireland, to that effect. But wherever arbitrary
power exists, there are always Some persons in
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 123
authority who derive personal advantage from it, and
who therefore have an interest in its perpetuation.
Some sort of a parliament was held in Ireland to
consider the question ; and the barons or great men
in that parliament started objections, and succeeded in
postponing the matter. After much delay the king
again wrote, expressing his displeasure; and ordering
another parliament to be summoned to decide upon
the question. This is one among a vast number of
instances, in which we see how entirely free from any
tendency to despotic rule was Edward’s mind. Even
when the expediency and propriety of a measure was
obvious, and when he had a direct interest in carrying
it, he issues no arbitrary decree or edict; but merely
orders, once and again, that his representative in
Ireland shall summon a parliament to consider the
matter. His caution, and his desire that every
measure should be considered in a parliament before
its adoption, had in this case an injurious effect,
The men in power in Ireland succeeded in again
postponing any decision, until the affairs of Wales
drew the king's attention another way.
The Welsh principality had now remained in a
state of apparent tranquillity for more than four
years. “Slow to all manner of strife,” the king had
shewn the greatest unwillingness to proceed to ex-
tremities, and the moment Llewellyn asked for peace,
that peace had been granted to him. And so gene-
rously had the king acted to both the brothers, that
a new outbreak, which could only lead to their own
ruin, was as improbable an event as could have been
imagined. Yet such an event, unlikely as it might have
appeared, actually took place. The king was quietly
keeping Easter at Devizes, when the news was brought
124 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
to him, that David, that same David on whom he
had heaped so many favors, had, before daybreak
on the Palm-Sunday of 1282, surprised the castle
of Hawarden, put the garrison to the sword, and
hurried the owner, the lord Roger de Clifford, wounded
and in chains, over the mountains, as a prisoner. It was
added, that the two brothers, David and Llewellyn,
now for the first time reconciled, had invested the
castles of Flint and Rhuddlan, and were overrunning
the Marches, destroying everything with fire and
sword. Edward at first found it difficult to give
credit to intelligence so strange and so unlooked for ;
but, on receiving abundant confirmation, his course
was perfectly clear. England had been insulted,
injured, and set at nought. Her honor must be win-
dicated, and her power established. Despatching
into Wales, to the relief of the beleaguered castles,
such forces as he had at hand, the king summoned
his military tenants to meet him at Rhuddlan on
the 2nd of August, when he proposed to take the
field.
Still, however, though insulted and outraged, Ed-
ward did not reject the idea of peace. The archbishop
again tendered his services; and the king permitted
him to go to Llewellyn in the hope of bringing him
to more reasonable counsels. This attempt proved a
fruitless one, but it occupied some weeks. The Welsh
prince handed in a list of grievances. They were
just such as might have been expected : The country
between Chester and Conway, formerly “debateable
ground,” had been ceded to the English, who had
established their own laws, and their own courts, and
judges, and officers : The Welsh found themselves,
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 125
in these parts, ruled over by men whose language
they could not understand. By the Welsh laws, too,
great crimes, such as murder or arson, were allowed
to be commuted for a fine of five pounds; while the
English courts hanged up the offender. Nor would
it be reasonable to assume, that the English authori-
ties were at all times patient, and placable, and con-
descending. It is probable that some causes of
complaint really existed ; indeed, considering the
position of the two parties, this was nearly inevi-
table. But the existence of some wrongs of this
kind did not make Llewellyn's conduct either wise
or reasonable. He had already experienced the
king's kindness and generosity; and he had no right
to assume that wrong-doing, clearly shewn to exist,
would have been maintained and justified. Twice
had he been Edward’s invited guest in his palace of
Westminster; and he could not doubt of obtaining a
patient hearing, whenever he chose to carry to the
king's own ear a statement of things requiring amend-
ment. Any course would have been more wise, and
more defensible, than that which was actually adopted,
of sudden and treacherous warfare. The archbishop
brought back Llewellyn's answer; but he must have
known its insufficiency. Whenever actually engaged
in warfare with a subject or a vassal, it was Edward's
constant rule to listen to nothing but submission.
Had Llewellyn applied to him before having re-
course to arms, he would readily have done justice;
but now, a blow having been actually struck, he
demanded in the first place, submission. That sub-
mission he would not purchase by any concession.
If Llewellyn would lay down his arms, he should
126 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
have justice; if not, it must be war, and then “God
defend the right.”
The summer drew on, and Edward began to move.
His path was now quite clear. His vassal, once
before rebellious, and then pardoned and generously
treated, had now, with greater violence, broken out
into open rebellion, and dared his lord to the field.
With unhesitating decision, but without any precipi-
tation, the king collected his forces, and entered
Wales. The plan of the campaign differed in no-
thing from that of 1277. A naval force was de-
spatched for the reduction of Anglesea. So soon
as that island was in the possession of the English,
the king's operations were chiefly carried on on
the western side of Snowdon. A bridge of boats
was constructed, for the passage of the Menai strait;
and while this work was in progress, the Welsh, by
one of those sudden attacks of which they were
always fond, surprised a detachment commanded by
Lucas de Thony, a Gascon knight, and drove it into
the Menai, killing and drowning a considerable num-
ber of men. Encouraged by this success, and pro-
bably dreading to be shut up in Snowdon, as in
1277, Llewellyn left his mountain-fastnesses, and
passed into Radnor, where he expected to meet a
party of friends. He there came into contact with
an English force, under the command of Edward
Mortimer and John Giffard; and, in an irregular
skirmish, he was killed by one Adam Frankton, an
English soldier, who knew not his person, and was
quite unconscious of his rank. But his body was
soon recognized by some of the leaders of the party,
and the head was cut off and sent to the king. Ac-
cording to the custom of the times, Edward desired
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 127
it to be forwarded to London, and set up over the
gate of the Tower”.
The death of Llewellyn so entirely discouraged
the Welsh, that no further opposition was offered;
but the whole principality at once submitted, and
became, from that day forward, an integral part of
England. Its annexation was as natural and just a
thing as many other annexations which have oc-
curred in our own time. We may go further, and say,
it was more natural and more just. We have annexed
in India, under the mild government of queen Vic-
toria, province after province, of far greater size and
population than the principality of Wales, merely
because their rulers would not conduct themselves
with justice and propriety as friendly and inde-
pendent states. But Wales had been for centuries
feudally subject to England. Edward asked nothing
of Llewellyn but that homage and loyalty to which
he had an unquestionable right. On Llewellyn's
first contumacy, Edward shewed the greatest for-
bearance ; and received his submission, and restored
him to his seat, the first moment his submission was
tendered. The actual rebellion and open warfare of
the Welsh prince against his feudal lord, could be
visited with nothing less than forfeiture. The chance-
medley death of Llewellyn ended the question in the
* Such a proceeding seems to us, in the nineteenth century,
barbarous, but it presented no such aspect even to our grandfathers
in the eighteenth. When the last rebellion was suppressed in
England, the government of that day, of which lords Hardwicke
and Chatham were members, decapitated men on Kennington-
common, and sent their heads to Carlisle to be placed over the
castle-gates. Pope and Addison, Samuel Johnson and William
Cowper, were accustomed to see human heads on Temple-bar, as
they passed up and down Fleet-street.
128 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
shortest way; but had he met with no such death,
the termination of the contest must have been the
same. The principality of Wales was forfeited to
the Superior lord ; and Edward could feel no more
doubt than we do now, that in uniting the two
countries, he was consulting the best interests of
both. “This incorporation,” says Mr. Sharon Turner,
“was an unquestionable blessing to Wales. That
country ceased immediately to be the theatre of homi-
cide and distress, and began to imitate the English
habits. The country was divided into counties, placed
under sheriffs, and admitted to a participation in the
more important of the English institutions.”
The wretched beginner of this second Welsh
controversy, David of Snowdon, succeeded, for seve-
ral months, in hiding himself in the mountains, and
leading the life of an outlaw. His unyielding con-
tumacy completed his ruin. Had he frankly and
instantly submitted, and thrown himself on Edward's
mercy, all that we know of the king assures us
that at least his life would have been spared. But
he remained obdurate, until, after a concealment of
Several months, he was at last given up by Some
of his own countrymen. Then, when there was no
longer any merit in submission, and when nothing
but an appeal to Edward’s mercy could save him,
he begged to be allowed to see the king. But Ed-
Ward was justly and reasonably indignant at his
ingratitude, and refused to grant an interview. Still,
he would not hastily decide upon his fate. No one
who has any acquaintance with English history can
doubt, that in either of the following ten or twelve
reigns, such an offender as this David would have
been instantly taken before any convenient tribunal,
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 129
and would have passed to the scaffold or the gallows
in less than twenty-four hours. He was an English
subject, he had been raised by Edward to the
position of an English earl, and he had requited this
kindness by a treacherous rebellion, and by acts
unquestionably amounting to high treason. Even in
our own day, princes and great men have suffered
death in India for precisely the same offence.
But Edward, while he could not intend to make
David an example of unheard-of clemency, would not
trust himself to decide finally on his case. It is a
remarkable feature of this king's character, that
although possessed of a most masculine under-
standing, and fitted above most men to act upon the
unfettered dictates of his own mind, Edward never
found himself in presence of any grave and serious
Question, without instantly desiring to submit it to a
council, or parliament, or conference with others.
In the present case, as we have said, the guilt of the
criminal was clear, and admitted of no doubt ; and
his instant execution would have appeared the
natural termination of his career. But the question
of how much, and what kind of punishment would be
most fitting, was one which Edward shrank from
deciding. He desired also, to do nothing in haste ;
and he therefore resolved to leave the whole question
to a parliament; and to summon that parliament to
meet at Shrewsbury in October 1283—David having
been given up to him in the June preceding.
It also seemed desirable to submit to the same
parliament, a great commercial statute, which the
legal advisers of the crown were then occupied in
preparing. We have no means of knowing which of
these two questions suggested the novel step, which
K
130 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
makes the parliament of Shrewsbury one of the
epochs of the English constitution; but certain it is,
that this memorable assembly is the first of which
we have any record, to which, as a component part
in a regular English parliament, the representatives
of sundry English towns and cities were regularly
summoned.
We have already remarked, that from the very
beginning of this great king's reign, the presence and
concurrence of “the commonalty,” in the task of
legislation, was always distinctly avowed, as a prin-
ciple; and was not so much conceded, as readily and
voluntarily asserted and declared by the sovereign.
Nor ought we to suppose, that in the earlier parlia-
ments of this reign, these words were mere empty
phrases, meaning nothing. Doubtless, some members
of “the commonalty” were invited and admitted
to those assemblies; though who they were is no-
where recorded. But now the king resolved to give
a definite shape and form to this part of the legisla-
ture; and he accordingly commenced, of his own will
and pleasure, the borough-representation of England.
To this parliament of Shrewsbury there were sum-
moned, for the first time, two citizens, “de sapien-
tioribus etaptioribus,” from the city of London, and two
from each of twenty other cities and towns in various
parts of England. This enlargement of the popular
branch of the legislature was not dictated, as some
historians are fond of assuming, “by the multiplied
necessities of the crown;” for the king had no request
to prefer, for money, or men, or any other kind of
“benevolence.” Nor was it the freak or fancy of the
moment; for we find, in the after-history of this
reign, that this enlargement of the popular rights
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING, 131
Was not, in subsequent years, retracted or forgotten;
but that it was again and again repeated and extended;
until, in the last year of Edward's reign, the city and
borough representatives had become the largest sec-
tion of the “common parliament.”
At Shrewsbury, then, we find this first of English
kings collecting and calling into existence this first
complete English parliament. And we perceive, from
the language of the writs, how deeply the king felt the
gravity of the question, as to the fate of David; and
how sincerely he desired that the parliament, and
not himself, should decide on the fate of the prisoner.
Those writs remind both the barons, and the knights,
and the citizens, that they had seen “how Llewellyn
and David his brother, spurning the obligations of
fidelity into which they had entered, had, more
treacherously than usual, suddenly set fire to villages,
slain some of the inhabitants, burnt others, and shut
up others in dungeons, savagely shedding innocent
blood.” The king therefore desires those to whom
he writes, to come to Shrewsbury on the day indicated,
“there to determine what ought to be done with the
said David, whom,” says the king, “we received when
an exile, nourished when an orphan, and enriched out
of our own lands; placing him among the nobles of our
court.” “We charge you, therefore,” the king con-
cludes, “to meet us at Shrewsbury, on the day after
the feast of St. Michael; to confer upon this, and
upon other matters.”
Before this parliament, then, was David of Snow-
don arraigned. “He was tried,” says the Chromicle
of Dunstable, “by the whole baronage of England.”
It is clear that Edward sincerely desired that others,
and not himself, should decide upon the fate of
K 3
132 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
this unhappy man. He appears to have retired to
his chancellor's residence at Acton Burnel, about ten
miles from Shrewsbury ; and to have taken no direct
share in the proceedings. The trial took place, and,
according to the custom of those days, the criminal
was regarded as one who had committed Sundry
crimes, and who ought, therefore, to suffer Sundry
punishments. According to a method which was not
uncommon at that period, these crimes and punish-
ments were thus set forth:-1. As a traitor to the
king, he was to be drawn to the place of execution:
2. As the murderer of certain knights in the castle
of Hawarden, he was to be hanged ; 3. As sacrile-
gious, in having committed these crimes on Palm
Sunday, he was to be disembowelled : and 4. As
having conspired the death of the king in various
places, he was to be quartered. This sentence was
carried into execution; and loud are the exclamations
of modern historians at its barbarity. Some mistakenly
represent Edward as having, on this occasion, in-
vented the punishment for high treason, which has
continued in England almost until the present day.
A more moderate censor condemns Edward for “per-
mitting his nobles and lawyers to devise and to carry
into execution such a barbarous sentence.”
Much of this censure arises from ignorance.
Such a sentence as was passed at Shrewsbury was
not a novel or unheard-of thing : punishments like
that inflicted on David had been inflicted before
Edward was born”. Neither was this Edward’s
* Thus, in 1238, a man was found lurking in the palace, who
confessed that his object was to kill the king. He was sentenced,
first, to be dragged asunder by horses; then to be beheaded; and
to be divided into three parts, to be exhibited in three cities.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 133
punishment for high treason. We shall meet with a
case of high treason a few years after this ; and shall
then observe, that the punishment inflicted for that
offence in Edward’s reign was far lighter than in the
days of Elizabeth, or of either of the Georges.
But still there remains the fact of the cruelties
inflicted on David’s body, a fact which revolts our
feelings in modern times. The true justification, or
palliation, of these cruelties, is found in the vast
difference which existed between the habits, and
customs, and tone of feeling of those days, and those
of our own time. The days of chivalry were iron
days. When a prince like Edward would go to a far
distant and hostile country, on a perilous crusade, his
gentle Eleanor must needs accompany him. When
he would fight a battle, as at Falkirk, he sleeps all
the previous night, with his shield for his pillow, on a
Scottish moor. The very sports of those days were
terrible. “Sir Patrick Graham, a Scottish knight,
having arrived from Paris, was invited to supper; and
in the midst of the feast, an English knight, turning
to him, courteously asked him to run with him three
courses. Next morning, in the first course, Graham
struck the English knight through the harness with
a mortal wound, so that he died on the spot. Such
were the fierce pastimes of those days”.” And,
naturally enough, men did not think of the mutilation
of a human body, in or after death, with those feelings
of horror with which we regard it. Robert Bruce,
when dying, ordered his heart to be taken out of his
body, and carried to the Holy Land. If ever a
husband loved a wife, surely Edward loved his
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 431.
134 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
Eleanor. Yet his directions after her death, were,
to place her bowels in Lincoln Minster, her heart in
the church of the Blackfriars, London, and the rest
of her body in Westminster Abbey. After the battle
of Evesham, as we have already seen, the bloody
head of earl Simon was deemed a fitting present to
be sent to the home of a noble lady. How can we,
then, apply to the deeds of those times the feelings
or prejudices which are current in the nineteenth
century 2 Is it not evident and unquestionable, that
the sentence passed upon David of Snowdon must
have appeared to Edward himself, and to all the men
of his time, in a totally different light from that in
which we view it 2
So much as to the manner of David’s death.
As to his capital punishment by some mode, we
apprehend that there is no room for discussion. The
after-history of England furnishes instances in great
numbers, of men of royal and noble blood, who died
on the scaffold for far lighter offences; and even in
our own day, cases of a similar description, in India,
have not been wanting. Hume, indeed, tries to ex-
aggerate the case of David, by stating that “he
succeeded Llewellyn,” and thus was “a sovereign
prince.” But these statements are erroneous in
various ways. Llewellyn did not die childless, and
in no sense could his refugee brother be said to suc-
ceed him. And at the time of Llewellyn's death, his
fief was justly forfeited, and the superior lord was
entering into possession. As for David, he was
simply an English lord, an English subject, who
had committed high treason of the plainest and most
flagrant kind; the moral guilt of which was largely
enhanced by the fact, that the prince whom he thus
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 135
Suddenly and treacherously attacked had been his
most liberal and generous benefactor.
Edward, as we have seen, did not himself sit in
judgment on David, but devolved that painful duty
on his parliament. And we may be assured that this
Was no pretence. The king was a fearless and
straightforward man, and when he called both lords
and commoners to come from all parts of the kingdom
to Shrewsbury, in order “to determine what ought to
be done with said David,” he meant exactly what he
said. The sentence was that of the parliament; the
king’s part was merely the assenting to it.
But this was not quite the end of this transac-
tion. Edward was a thoughtful and a merciful king;
and when Llewellyn and David were both gone, he
did not lose sight of the fact, that they both had left
children. A letter is extant, dated November 11th,
1283, and written by the king to the prior and
prioress of Alvingham, in the following terms:—
“Albeit, if we should turn our mind to past events,
and should regard somewhat closely the deserts of
certain persons, we should scarcely be bound to
succour the children of Llewellyn prince of Wales,
or of David his brother, whose perfidy is fresh in the
memory of all; nevertheless, having the fear of God
before our eyes, and compassionating their sex and
age, lest perchance the innocent and unconscious
should seem to pay the penalties of the crimes of the
impious, we, from regard to charity, have thought
fit in wholesome sort to make provision for them.
Wherefore, being persuaded of your devotion, and
specially considering the conversation of your order,
we beseech you, brethren, that you admit to your order,
and the habit of your house, any one or more of the
136 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
said children of Llewellyn and David his brother,
whom we shall name to you; and that you intimate to
us what you shall think fit to do in this matter, be-
fore the feast of the Nativity next ensuing. Given
under our private seal at Ludlow, on the 11th day
of November.”
Of the result of this application to the priory of
Alvingham, we find no record. But in the tenth
of Edward II., we find Wenciliana, a daughter of
Llewellyn, spoken of as a nun of Sempringham”;
and in the first year of his reign, Edward granted her
a pension of £20 a-year (equal to £300 in the present
day). Peter Langtoft speaks of her as personally
known to him, and he mentions her death in June
1337. He also mentions “her cousin Gladous,
daughter of David,” who was a nun at Sixille house,
and who died in 1336.
We must return, however, to Shrewsbury, and to
Acton Burné, the castle of chancellor Burnel; for it
was not for David’s trial only that this parliament was
summoned. An important civil matter, as well as a
criminal question, was to be discussed. And, perhaps,
to sever, even in thought and memory, the one from
the other, the parliament seems to have removed
from Shrewsbury to Acton Burnel. Here, another
of Edward's great and durable laws was to be placed
on the statute-book of England.
The trade of England had attracted the attention
of the king and his advisers; and the want of a new
statute for its regulation had been seen. Such a
measure had been prepared ; and, like the other
statutes of this reign, it merited the eulogium of Sir
* Rymer's Fodera, vol. ii., p. 313.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 137
Edward Coke, as being one of those laws which “may
justly be styled establishments.” This statute, “de
Mercatoribus,” is described, even in the present day,
by lord Campbell, as “that famous law;”—“that
most admirable statute.” Such was the legislative
fruit of that first legal parliament of England, to
which the representatives of the cities and boroughs
had been duly summoned.
And now, another great work lay before the king.
Wales was at last his own—justly and rightfully his
own ; and finally united to England. But the country
was in a state of great wildness and disorder; and
the king knew well, that the first step in the regene-
ration of a country (so far as a government can regene-
rate it) is the establishment of wise and just laws.
To this work, therefore, Edward immediately addressed
himself. “He was at great pains to gain a perfect
knowledge of its ancient constitutions and laws; and
of the manners of its inhabitants. With this view, he
issued a commission to the bishop of St. David’s and
Some others, to investigate these matters in the most
careful manner. No fewer than one hundred and
seventy-two intelligent persons were examined upon
oath by these commissioners; who, upon this evi-
dence, framed a report. Having thus obtained the
necessary information, the king held a parliament at
Rhuddlan in Flintshire, where he introduced as many
of the English laws and customs as he felt to be
convenient at that time.”
The preamble to these “Statutes of Wales” is ex-
pressed with all Edward's sincerely-religious feelings,
and noble frankness. It runs thus:–
“The Divine Providence having now, of its favor,
wholly transferred to our dominion the land of Wales,
138 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING,
with its inhabitants, heretofore subject to us in feudal
right, all obstacles ceasing; and having annexed
and united the same unto the crown of the aforesaid
realm, as a member of the same body;-we therefore, .
under the Divine Will, being desirous that our afore-
said land should be governed with due order, to the
honor and praise of God, and of holy church, and the
advancement of justice; and that the people of those
lands who have submitted themselves to our will
should be protected in security, under fixed laws and
customs, have caused to be rehearsed before us
and the nobles of our realm, the laws and customs in
those parts hitherto in use : which, having fully un-
derstood, we have, by the advice of the said nobles,
abolished some of them, some we have allowed, and
some we have corrected ; and we have commanded
and ordained certain others to be added thereto.”
So were framed and published the Statutes of
Wales. At the same time, also,-for the king made
a long stay in his new dominions,—there began to
uprear itself, the noble castle of Carnarvon. The
whole work occupied, there can be little doubt,
several years; but a portion of it was rapidly com-
pleted, and fitted for the purposes of a royal residence.
In 1283, queen Eleanor kept her court in Rhuddlan
Castle; but towards the beginning of 1284, a portion
of the new castle being completed, she removed to
this most royal abode ; and here, on the 25th of
April in that year, in a chamber of the Eagle tower
which is still shewn, she gave birth to Edward, prince
of Wales, afterwards Edward II. The king, at that
moment, was at Rhuddlan Castle, engaged in affairs
of state. A Welsh gentleman of the name of Griffith
Lloyd was announced; who brought him the intelli-
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 139
gence of the birth of a prince. The king, in great
joy, knighted the messenger on the spot, and made
him a noble donation of lands. He soon hastened to
Carnarvon, to see his Eleanor and her son; and when
a few days had elapsed, he was able to present to the
Welsh chiefs “a prince of Wales, who could not
speak a single word of English”.”
For more than two years had the affairs of Wales
occupied most of the king's time and attention ; but
the principality seemed now at peace, and about to
commence a course of rapid improvement. Edward
concluded his labors in the principality with a grand
festivity. At Newyn, in Carnarvonshire, in the summer
of 1284, he held, after the manner of king Arthur,
a round table, a grand tournament, with other fes-
tivities. Here assembled, says Matthew of West-
minster, “the great body of the knights of England,
with many foreign nobles.” So splendid a spectacle
was well calculated to satisfy the gentry of Wales,
that if their boasted “independence ’’ was lost,
they had at least gained in exchange, union with a
powerful kingdom, and the rule of a great sovereign.
When this festivity was concluded, the king pro-
ceeded through Cardigan and Glamorganshire, reach-
ing Bristol by the end of the year, where he celebrated
Christmas.
* See Appendix E.
CHAPTER THE FIFTH.
III.
TEI E F I R S T E N G LIS H KING.
III.-VISIT TO THE CONTINENT—TRIAL OF THE JUDGES-
DEATH OF THE QUEEN.
A.D. 1284–1290.
“THE conquest of Wales,” says Rapin, “and the
universal esteem in which the king was held among
his subjects, produced in England a profound tran-
quillity.” And hence, as some questions of import-
ance called Edward abroad, he began about this time
to prepare for a visit of Some length to various parts
of the continent.
A singular application had been made to him,
while engaged in the affairs of Wales. Two princes,
—Peter of Arragon and Charles of Anjou,-had
each advanced a claim to the crown of Sicily. An
appeal to arms appeared inevitable ; when it was
suggested by Charles, and agreed to by Peter, that
they should decide the question by single combat /
Arrangements were seriously made : twelve commis-
sioners were appointed on each side; and these
twenty-four drew up articles, which were afterwards
ratified by both the princes. It was agreed that the
combat should take place at Bourdeaux, whither the
combatants were to repair on a certain day ap-
pointed,—each to be accompanied by one hundred
knights. But, as all parties agreed in regarding
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 141
Edward as at the head of the chivalry of Europe, it
was made an essential point in the agreement, that
he should act as the umpire, and that the combat
should take place in his presence.
The two princes had evidently reckoned on the
martial character of the English king, as a man
known to be “mighty in arms,” and who had taken
part in most of the great tournaments of his time.
But they had overlooked, or not understood, that
this was only the inferior part of his character;
and his nobler aspect was, his wisdom, his states-
manlike Sagacity, and, what a modern historian calls,
“his legislative mind.” The proposal, when made to
Edward, only struck him as being eminently absurd.
He was fond of martial sports and deeds of chivalry;
but he had never dreamed that the affairs of the
world could be carried on by tournaments. Ques-
tions concerning kingly rights, and disputed succes-
sions, were handled by him in courts and parliaments,
on the ground of truth, and justice, and established
fact ; and often, as in the cases of Wales and Scot-
land, with a deliberateness which disregarded the
lapse of months and years. To leave such matters
to be decided by, perchance, the possession of the
strongest horse or the toughest spear, was not to be
for a moment thought of. His instant reply was,
“That if he were to gain by it both the kingdoms
of Arragon and Sicily, he would not appoint the
field of battle, or suffer the two princes to fight in
any place within his dominions, nor in any other
place, if it were in his power to hinder it.” But he
accompanied his refusal with offers of friendly media-
tion, which were afterwards carried into effect. -
This frank and decided negative frustrated the
142 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
whole plan; and Edward was soon requested to under-
take a more pacific arrangement. In fact, through-
out this whole affair, this sovereign of the mediaeval
times seems to have acted much as any modern king
of sense and proper feeling would now act. To
understand distinctly how great a superiority this
implied over the prejudices and habits of thought of
his own time, we should recal to mind the fact, that
more than two centuries after Edward’s day, two
such monarchs as Charles W. and Francis I. actually
contemplated, for a considerable time, a settlement of
their disputes by this same absurd method of a royal
duel ! In truth, in this, as in many other passages
of his life, Edward evinced the possession, as it were
by intuition, of all the practical wisdom which the
lapse of nearly six centuries has given to the public
men of modern times.
The king had now returned from Wales, and had
received an urgent invitation from Philip of France,
to visit him at Amiens, in order that they might
consult on the subject of this dispute. He accord-
ingly set out on this journey, and had reached,Can-
terbury, on his way to Dover, when tidings reached
him of the illness of his mother, queen Eleanor of
Provence, at the convent of Ambresbury in Wilt-
shire. A messenger was immediately despatched to
Amiens, with a letter of apology; and Edward
forthwith turned his steps towards the west. On
her recovery, the king paid a religious visit to the
abbey of St. Edmundsbury, and spent a part of the
Season of Lent in this retreat.
On the 25th of March, 1285, a parliament was
held at Westminster, at which the “Statutes of West-
minster II.” were adopted. “These statutes,” says
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 143
Delolme, “are the foundation of much of the law of
the land as it now stands.” “They were framed,”
says lord Campbell, “in a spirit of enlightened legis-
lation, and admirably accommodated the law to the
changed circumstances of the social system ; which
ought to be the object of every wise legislator.” In
October, another parliament was held at Winchester,
at which the Statute of Winchester was passed. This
important enactment established an effective system
of “watch and ward,” for the protection of life and
property; which, from the laxity prevalent through
all the previous reign, had come to be greatly
needed.
Two other parliaments appear to have been held
in Westminster, in February and May 1286 ;—in
fact, it appears to have been Edward's desire to hold,
whenever practicable, three or four such meetings
in each year. Now, as he very seldom, in the
first twenty years of his reign, had any occasion
to ask his people for money, his object, in thus fre-
quently meeting his parliament, must have been that
of a frank and unrestrained interchange of thought
and feeling as to public affairs. This was a charac-
teristic feature of the king's mind. Weak sovereigns
always fear a parliament, and are eager for its separa-
tion and departure. But Edward knew nothing of fear,
and he had one of the most transparent of minds.
Even when vehemently opposed, as by archbishop
Winchelsey, and earls Bigod and Bohun, his first
thought generally was, to send for his opponents to
come to him ; for that “the king wished to have a
private colloquium with them.” In the present case,
there was no quarrel or difference of opinion ; but,
in all probability, the chief matter for discussion was,
144 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING,
the king's intended visit to the continent, and the
measures to be adopted for carrying on the govern-
ment in his absence.
Not until the summer of that year was he able to
take his departure. On the 24th of June, 1286, he
embarked, accompanied by his queen, and attended
by a splendid train of bishops, earls, barons, and
knights. He was received with due honor by king
Philip, and was conducted to St. Germain's, where
he remained for several weeks. Many important
Questions required to be discussed by these two great
sovereigns. There were various claims, some of
which had been long undecided, on the part of the
crown of England, on Normandy, Limousin, Saint-
onge, &c.; there was homage to be paid for posses-
sions in France, to king Philip; and there was the
difficult question, in which Edward had consented to
act as umpire, between the houses of Arragon and
Anjou, touching the crown of Sicily.
The various questions arising out of the dis-
puted territory in Normandy, Limousin, Saintonge,
&c., occupied much time. France, now strong and
at peace, felt no disposition to relinquish one foot of
territory. On this point Philip was immovable;
and Edward, though equally warlike with his grand-
son, the victor of Crecy, felt none of the ambitious
longings of Edward III. for conquests in France;
nor any desire for such barren honors as those of
Agincourt or Poictiers. He brought the various
topics of discussion to a peaceful settlement; ac-
cepting an annual payment in lieu of some territory
which Philip was unwilling to relinquish ; and gain-
ing, on the other hand, a concession of the right of
appeal as regarded Gascony.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 145
Quitting the court of France so soon as these
discussions were concluded, Edward passed on to
Bourdeaux, where many things required his presence
and his decision. But the chief affair which had
brought him to the continent remained now to be ad-
justed; and, like many similar questions referred to
the decision of third parties, it proved a nearly
inextricable controversy. The two chiefs, the king
of Arragon and the count of Anjou, were equally
unworthy of Edward’s solicitude. He found it
very difficult to effect any arrangement ; and a task
still more hopeless, to induce them to keep their
engagements. Like the English barons in 1263,
who agreed to refer their dispute with Henry III.
to the arbitration of Louis of France, meaning to
abide by his decision only so far as suited their own
purposes, the two combatants in the present case
could in no way be made to carry out their own
pledges, or to submit to the decision which they had
professed to desire. Edward succeeded, at last, in
making a treaty, which restored the prince of Sa-
lerno, Charles's son, to his liberty; but as soon as he
had returned home, the two rivals treated the rest of
their engagements with mutual disregard.
The king and queen landed at Dover in August
1289; and Edward’s first acts were of a religious
character He had experienced, while abroad, de-
liverances of a more than ordinary kind. For several
weeks he had suffered from a dangerous illness, from
which, however, he had entirely recovered. And on
one occasion, while at Bourdeaux, a flash of lightning,
entering the room in which he and the queen were
sitting, killed two of the attendants; while the king
and his consort remained untouched. We have
L
146 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
already stated that, after the manner of those times,
Edward was a most religious king. Very naturally,
therefore, his first thought on landing was to pay a
visit to the abbey of St. Edmundsbury, there to “per-
form the vows made while he was in trouble.”
But his presence, and his strong right arm, were
soon demanded by various public necessities. His
absence had naturally tended to give opportunity for
lawless practices, both among the higher and the
lower classes. The excellent Statute of Winchester,
made not long before his departure to the continent,
had been scarcely brought into operation. Bands of
outlaws concealed themselves in the forests, and way-
laid travellers. Often they proceeded to still greater
lengths. During a fair held at Boston in Lincolnshire,
Thomas Chamberlain, a man of some note, had set
fire to the town, hoping, with his associates, to
take advantage of the confusion, and to pillage the
place. He himself was taken and hanged, but none
of his accomplices were discovered. And the root
of these disorders lay deep, and in a quarter which
ought to have been beyond suspicion. The judges of
the land were corrupt, and for bribes would release
the robber and the murderer. The archbishop of
Canterbury, who probably greeted the king on his
landing, acquainted him with these disorders; and
made known to him their secret cause. Edward lost
no time in acting with his accustomed energy and
Vigour.
On the 13th of October, the king celebrated the
feast of St Edward, and on the same day obeyed the
injunctions of the prophet (Isa. lviii. 6) by issuing a
proclamation, that all persons who had been aggrieved
or oppressed by the judges, or other ministers, should
TPIE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 147
t
come before him at the ensuing parliament, and
exhibit their complaints. The result shewed, that
the people put their trust in the king, and felt assured
that his promise would be kept. A fearful case was
established against the judges, and the chancellor
Burnel, whose whole course commands our respect,
“brought forward very serious charges against those
high functionaries, for taking bribes and altering the
records.” All except two, John de Metingham and
Elias de Bokingham,_were convicted. The chief
baron Stratton was fined 34,000 marks; the chief
justice of the king's bench, 7,000 marks; the master of
the rolls, 1,000; while Weyland, the chief justice of
the common pleas, who was the greatest delin-
Quent, fled to the convent of the Friars Minor at
Bury St. Edmunds, where he took sanctuary. The
king, when informed of this, sent a knight, with
a guard, not to violate the sanctuary, but to blockade
it till the judge should surrender. After holding out
for two months, Weyland submitted, and petitioned
for leave to abjure the realm. This, which involved
the forfeiture of all his goods, was granted to him ;
and his property, when taken possession of, was found
to amount to 100,000 marks,—“an almost incredible
Sum,” says Blackstone; being, indeed, equal to about
one million sterling at the present day. Nothing
could more fully establish the guilt of the criminal,
or more strikingly shew the enormous extent to which
*it had been carried. “These sentences,” says lord
Campbell, “ had on the whole a very salutary effect.”
The example was a terrible one; yet in our own day
we have seen heavier sentences, such as transportation
or penal servitude, inflicted for lighter offences. The
king, however, immediately added a new precaution;
L 3
148 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
by ordering that, in future, every judge, on his
appointment, should take an oath to accept no gift or
gratuity from any one.
Another class of offenders was, about the same
time, brought under the notice of the king and his
parliament. Dr. Henry says, “The Jews seem to
have taken occasion, from the king's absence, and the
venality of the judges, to push their exactions to a
greater length than ever; and the cry against them
was now become so vehement and universal, that the
parliament which assembled at Westminster on the
12th of January, 1290, came to a resolution to banish
the whole race out of the kingdom.” Rapin adds, “The
king was unable any longer to protect them without
disobliging the parliament. They had enjoyed various
privileges;–such as synagogues in London, a sort of
high priest, and judges of their own nation, to decide
on their own differences. These advantages they lost
by not being able to curb their insatiable greediness
of enriching themselves by unlawful means; such
as usury, adulteration of the coin, and the like.”
Another writer cites a complaint of their exactions,
which shews that they were in the habit of requiring
from forty to sixty-five per cent. for the use of money;
a system which would naturally and very quickly be
felt to be quite intolerable.
Hence, their entire expulsion was resolved upon,
and ordered. It was not an act of “religious intole-
rance,” but of popular indignation. In effecting this,
the impatient exultation of the people led them, in
Some cases, to actual ill-treatment of the Jews. The
Sailors of a ship in which some of them had em-
barked, placed them on a sandbank at low water, and
left them to be drowned. The king ordered the perpe-
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 149
trators of this crime to be brought to trial, and on
their conviction he had them hanged.
In a parliament held on the 8th of July, 1290,
“several important statutes were made.” And, gra-
dually, but constantly, the idea of legislation by a
parliament took root, and evinced its growth and ad-
Vancement. The Writs for this parliament command
the sheriffs to send from their respective counties, two
or three knights, with full powers “ad consulendum
et consentiendum his quae Comites, barones et pro-
ceres, tum duxerint concordanda”.” This parliament
placed upon the statute book, the statutes “de Con-
sultatione,” “de Quo Warranto,” “Quia Emptores,”
and those of “Westminster III.”
In the spring and summer of this year, 1290, queen
Eleanor had the satisfaction of witnessing the marriage
of two of her daughters. The princess Joanna, born
at Acre, and now in her eighteenth year, was united
on the last day of April, in the monastery of St. John,
Clerkenwell, to Gilbert de Clare, earl of Gloucester,
the most powerful peer in England. And on the 9th of
July, in Westminster Abbey, Margaret, the queen's
third daughter, was married to John, duke of Brabant.
One of the young princesses, Mary, had in the preced-
ing year, followed the example of her grandmother,
Eleanor of Provence, and had taken the veil in the
convent of Ambresbury, where the old queen had
long resided.
Of the frank and cordial manners of the court,
and of the harmony subsisting between the king and
his consort, we catch a few indications from the
remaining records. Thus, we find that on Easter
* Parry's Hist. Parliaments, p. 54.
150 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
Monday, 1290, seven of the queen's ladies of honor
invaded the king's private chamber, to perform the
feat customary on that holiday”, of “heaving” or
lifting the monarch in his chair; and from their
hands he was only released on paying a fine of forty
shillings to each, to be set at liberty. On another
occasion, while the king and his attendants are
saddling and mounting for the chase at Fingringhoe
in Essex, the king espies Matilda of Waltham, his
laundress, among the lookers-on, in the court-yard.
He merrily proposes a wager, of a fleet horse, probably
with the queen, that Matilda cannot ride with them
and be in at the death of the stag. The wager is
accepted,—Matilda starts, and wins, and Edward has
to ransom his horse for forty shillings.
On the marriage of the king's daughter, Margaret,
to the duke of Brabant, as many as four hundred and
twenty-six minstrels were present; and the bride-
groom distributed among them an hundred pounds.
Some entries about this period shew the king's quick
irascibility. On one occasion we note an expense
incurred in repairing a crown or coronet which he
had thrown behind the fire. And on the princess's
Wedding-day, an esquire, or gentleman of the court, had
irritated the king by some supposed neglect or misbe-
haviour, and received from him a stroke on the head
from a wand. But the offender was able to shew the
king that he had been hasty and perhaps unjust.
Most princes would probably have been content with
an expression of regret; but Edward was warm and
hearty, alike in reproof or in retractation. Finding
* This custom still exists, after the lapse of more than five
hundred years, in some of the midland counties of England.
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 151
that he had done his attendant a wrong, he at once
fined himself twenty marks, equal to about two hun-
dred pounds of our present money, which sum was
duly paid to the aggrieved party, and charged in the
king's wardrobe account. Gifts of various kinds
were constantly issuing from Edward's hand. In
one year, i286, the new year's gift to queen Eleanor
was a cup of gold, worth £23 6s. 8d. ; and in another,
a pitcher of gold, enamelled, and set with precious
Stones.
But all this mutual and well-placed affection was
now to find the common termination of all earthly
enjoyments. That happy and entire union, which
had subsisted for nearly five-and-thirty years, was
drawing to a close. The king and queen, after taking
leave of their daughter Margaret, now duchess of
Brabant, left their palace in Westminster for the
midland counties. Edward had given directions for
a parliament to be summoned to meet at Clipston, a
royal palace in Sherwood forest; and in the interim,
he hoped to enjoy his favorite recreation of the chase.
He also began to receive, about this time, frequent
applications from Scotland, and he probably meant
to go northward on that business. The queen, as
usual, was with him, or near him ; but while he was
moving about, during September, she seems to have
remained at Hardby, near Lincoln. We find, by the
mention of her physicians, and of medicine purchased
for her at Lincoln, that she had an illness of some
duration. It is described as a lingering disease, or
slow fever. Hardby was a manor belonging to a
family of the name of Weston, and we observe a Sir
John Weston in the queen’s service. The house was
probably placed by the family at the queen's dis-
152 TEIE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
posal; as a quieter place for a sick person than the
palace of Clipston, where the parliament was about
to assemble.
It is usually said, that Edward was on his road
to Scotland, the queen slowly following him; and
that she was taken ill on the journey, and died before
he could return to her. But it has been recently
shewn, that he remained in the vicinity of Hardby
during the whole of her illness”. The parliament was
held at Clipston, the king being present, at the
end of October, and it sat until the second week in
November; when he returned to the sick-room. We
find him at Hardby from the 20th to the 28th of
November, on which day the queen died.
For two or three days, silence reigns at Hardby.
There is an entire cessation of all public business;
as if the powerful mind of the king had been, for the
moment, utterly prostrated. But, after this pause, we
find the widowed monarch at Lincoln, where he doubt-
less went to issue his orders for the funeral. And
all the measures he took, with reference to this
object, and to the matters which followed, and which
were connected with it, give proof alike of the magni-
ficence of his soul, and of the depth of his feeling
for his departed consort. It has been Said with
great truth, that “this funeral procession was one
of the most striking spectacles that England ever
witnessedf.”
About ten days were occupied in this sad and
solemn journey; the king and his relatives following
the body the whole way. When the procession ap-
proached a town which was to furnish a resting-place,
* Archaeologia, vol. xxix., p. 169. + Ibid : p. 174.
THE FIRST ENGLISEI KING. 153
it halted, until the ecclesiastics of the place ap-
proached with their procession, to bear the body to
its temporary abode, before the high altar in the
principal church. These halting-places were after-
wards made the sites of crosses, richly sculptured,
and intended to remind passengers in all future times
of the good queen’s last journey. These crosses were
raised at Lincoln, Grantham, Stamford, Geddington,
Northampton, Stony Stratford, Woburn, Dunstable,
St. Alban's, Waltham, West Cheap, and Charing.
The corpse of the departed queen, as it entered
one of these towns, was met by the monks and clergy
of the place, who, receiving and conveying it to its
temporary resting-place, kept watch over it all night
long, with mournful chants and unceasing prayers.
It was thus slowly brought to the neighbourhood of
London ; and here, apparently, the king left the
procession by night, and entered the metropolis, in
order that he might meet the body, at the head of
the nobility, and of all the dignified clergy of Lon-
don and Westminster, on its approach to its last
resting-place. Some of those then present would be
able to recal to memory the day when, five-and-
thirty years before, they had accompanied king
Henry and the rejoicing citizens of London to meet
the young Eleanor, then for the first time approach-
ing their city as their prince's bride.
We have already alluded to the manner of the
disposal of the queen's remains. It is most probable
that it was chiefly in accordance with Eleanor's own
desire. One portion was deposited in Lincoln Cathe-
dral; another, in the church of the Black Friars in
London; but the body itself was conveyed to West-
minster, and placed near to the tomb of king Henry,
154 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
which was, even then, hardly completed. It is
needless to add, that the funeral rites were in accord-
ance with all the rest of this solemnly-magnificent
ceremony : “cum Summâ omnium reverentiã et
honore.”
The king remained at Westminster for about a
week after the interment; doubtless, he was chiefly
occupied in giving directions for the extraordinary
honors which were yet to be paid to the memory
of his departed consort. He then retired to Ash-
ridge, a house of Bons Hommes, recently founded by
his uncle, the earl of Cornwall, which had the re-
putation of possessing “a few drops of the precious
blood of Jesus.” This may have been a principal
reason for the selection of this spot by the king,
who “ himself reckoned among his most valued trea-
sures, two pieces of the rock of Calvary, which had
been presented to him by one Robert Ailward, a
pilgrim.”
Edward remained at Ashridge until the 26th of
January, 1291, - a long retirement for a man of
such active energy. He then went to Evesham, or
Eynsham ; and from thence to Ambresbury, where
his mother resided, and where he would also meet
his daughter Mary. The spring opens before we
find him actively engaged in public business; and
there is reason to believe that he never ceased to
lament his lost Eleanor. Assuredly, the measures
he adopted during the next two years, to do honor to
her memory, were of a kind which, for munificence
and persevering thoughtfulness, have very seldom
been equalled.
The twelve crosses which were, apparently, the
first thought that occurred to him, constituted, in
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 155
themselves, a princely monument. There are records
still extant of no less than £650 17s. 5d. paid for
work done on that erected at Charing,-a sum equal
to £10,000 of our money. The cross at West Cheap
cost £300; that at Waltham, É95; that at St. Al-
ban’s, £113. But it is probable that the statues
were supplied by a different artist. We are surely
within the mark when we reckon that a sum equal to
#30,000 or £40,000 of our present money was ex-
pended on these mementos.
A splendid tomb was placed in the minster at
Lincoln. Another, in the form of a chapel, was
raised in the church of the Black Friars in London.
The principal Sepulchral monument, however, was
naturally allotted to Westminster Abbey. There,
the best artist that could be procured was employed
to form, in metal, a recumbent effigy of the queen,
placed appropriately on a richly-ornamented tomb.
The cost of the tomb is not recorded, but we find en-
tries of as much as £113 6s. 8d.,-equal to about
f 1,700 of our present money, paid to the artist
employed on queen Eleanor and king Henry’s effigies.
A distinct payment also appears of a smaller sum,
for the erection of a workshop, in which these two
statues were fabricated.
But the chief work still remained to be done.
Edward had noble and splendid conceptions of
princely works and long-enduring memorials; but
his sagacious and reflecting mind could not rest
satisfied with works in stone, or works in metal.
The almost universal belief of the church in Eng-
land in those days, even “holy bishop Robert” not
dissenting, was, that prayers and alms especially
directed to the welfare of a departed soul, had a
156 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
beneficial effect upon the condition of that soul in
the intermediate state. This opinion, when cast into
the crucible of the Reformation, was found to be
dross; but in the thirteenth century it had not even
been questioned. Edward’s care, therefore, for the
well-being of his beloved Eleanor in the invisible
world, soon began to manifest itself. While at Ash-
ridge, and himself engaged in continual prayers for
his departed consort, he found time to write “a very
earnest, pious, and pathetic letter, to the abbot of
Clugny,” one of the most famous monasteries in Eu-
rope, entreating the prayers of that fraternity for her
“whom, living, he had dearly loved; and whom,
though dead, he should never cease to love.” And
such a request was, doubtless, accompanied by a
princely offering. But, in his own realm, Edward
could be more definite and elaborate.
At Hardby, a chantry was founded, and another
at Elynton. And, on the first and second anniversa-
ries of the queen's death, we find mention of various
religious services and of large distributions of alms.
But the principal provision was naturally reserved
for Westminster. In his gifts to the abbey-church, for
perpetual prayers and alms on behalf of the departed
Queen, “the king was quite profuse.” He gave to
this church the manors of Knoll, Arden's Grafton,
and Langdon, Warwickshire, with other lands in the
same county; and the manors of Bidbrook, in Essex,
Westerham, in Kent, and Turweston, in Bucks, for
a perpetual commemoration. Special services, of the
most solemn kind, were provided for, and seven-Score
poor persons were to have charity. The charter for
these gifts was dated in October 1292,-shewing that
neither the lapse of time, nor the distractions of the
THE FIRST ENGLISH KING. 157
momentous Scottish controversy, could withdraw
his mind from this settled purpose.
Edward, however, was well versed in the Old
Testament Scriptures, and he remembered Isaiah’s
Warnings against religious ceremonies without justice
or charity. On the anniversaries of his consort’s
death, we often remark the occurrence of large distri-
butions of alms. But another thing is also noticeable.
The queen had enjoyed, from her husband’s affection,
large landed possessions. Her stewards or bailiffs
might have wronged or oppressed her tenants. We
know not what proclamation may have been made,
or invitation given, calling upon all who had any
complaints to offer, to come forward; but it seems
Quite clear, that some such proclamation must have
been issued; for the records are very numerous, in
the next year or two, of the investigation of such
complaints. And a fixed and honest purpose to
do justice to all parties, is evident in all these trans-
actions.
The sorrow felt for queen Eleanor's death was,
apparently, general and sincere. Her name is con-
nected with no political contention or intrigue; and
she seems to have made no enemies. Rishanger,
writing at the time of her death, styles her, “this
most Saintly woman and queen ; ” and adds, some-
what hyperbolically, that she was like “a pillar that
supported the whole state.” Walsingham, who wrote
in the next age, described her more intelligibly, as
“a woman pious, modest, pitiful, benevolent to all.”
He adds, that “the sorrowful, everywhere, so far as
her dignity allowed, she consoled, and those who
were at variance she delighted to reconcile.” But
her best eulogium is found in her consort's grief.
158 THE FIRST ENGLISH KING.
His penetration and sagacity, his native nobleness of
soul, would have rendered it impossible for him to
love a mean and unworthy object. But his affection
for her was not a mere youthful passion. It was after
a companionship of five-and-thirty years that he gave
his testimony to her worth ; and that testimony was
one which few women indeed, in the whole world’s
history, have ever received, or have ever merited.
CHAPTER THE SIXTH.
P A U S E A N D R E T R O S P E C T.
A.D. 1290.
WE have now passed the prime of Edward's life,
and the first and largest portion of his reign. His
gentle consort, after eighteen years of married life as
princess, and eighteen more as queen, had been taken
from him, and he was left alone, just when the chief
troubles of his life were about to open before him.
At the time of her death, he had entered his fifty-se-
cond year. After her death, he reigned somewhat more
than sixteen years; and this latter period was the most
perplexed and toilsome portion of his reign ;—it is
that portion, also, with reference to which many un-
just accusations have been brought against him. The
vehement complaints of the Scotch all rest upon the
transactions of the last twelve years of his life. Two
or three modern writers have passed censures on his
political course in England; but these censures, also,
concern the same period. It may be said, that “the
times try the man;” and that we should judge the king
rather by his conduct in difficulties, than by the tenor
of his more peaceful years. But surely when we see
a young prince coming to a throne, amidst great
popularity and almost unbounded power, it is fair to
form a judgment of him from his own unbiassed and
voluntary course, rather than from his passage
160 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.
through more troublous times. In the first and
happiest period of his reign, we see Edward in the
course which he voluntarily adopted and marked out
for himself; while in his later years we find him in
circumstances of peril,—circumstances which came
upon him, and were not chosen or desired by him.
And the facts which are established, with reference
to the first period, will serve to throw light on the
facts which are in dispute, with reference to the
second. The insight which we have gained into his
character, by the history of his life from his early
manhood to his fifty-second year, will largely aid us
in considering some of the accusations brought
against him in his later years. It is not often that a
man who has passed half a century in virtue and
honor becomes perfidious, revengeful, and unjust,
towards the close of his life.
Edward, when he ascended the throne, found his
choice of a career entirely within his own power.
He was at liberty to comply with any of the nu-
merous temptations which always beset the wearer
of a crown, such as luxury and vice; ambition of
conquest; idleness, or a love of mere pleasure and
amusement. But he yielded to none of these. He
was an earnest constructor, improver, and reformer.
He was a laborious and painstaking ruler and legis-
lator. He was, to use old Fabian's words, “slow to all
manner of strife.” He had no other ambition than
that of bringing, England, Scotland, and Wales into
harmony, three realms acting in unison, and never
injuring each other. Surely, in weighing and esti-
mating the character of this king, it is natural and
just to pause at the moment at which we have now
arrived, when more than half of his reign had passed
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 161
over, and to say, During these eighteen years Ed-
Ward had ample scope and opportunity to choose his
own course, and to exhibit fully his real character;
and he gave himself neither to idleness and trifling,
nor to foreign conquest, nor to sensual enjoyments.
His life rather reminds us of the dream of our
English Laureate in his latest romance, when he
depicts one whom he styles “the blameless king.”
Let us look a little more closely at Edward’s
conduct in two or three respects. And first of that,
the failure in which constituted his father's chief
source of misery and peril,—the proper management
of the royal revenues.
For nearly a century past, all in this department
had been confusion, mismanagement, and trouble.
Henry III., though not vicious or profligate like his
father, was profuse and negligent. Even when pen-
niless, and deeply involved in debt, he could delight
in giving feasts of more than royal magnificence;
and then, when in the greatest distress for money,
he could threaten, beseech, or recklessly promise
anything which might relieve him from his present
difficulty. On Edward’s accession, all this instantly
ceases. As if by magic, order succeeds disorder*.
The royal revenues fully meet the royal expenses.
* The entries in the Eachequer Issues, in Henry's reign, ran
thus:—“To Humphrey de Bohun, earl of Hereford, £120 for
50 casks of wine, taken from him by Imbert Pugeis (a soldier) for
the king's use.” “To Gerard de Bosco, merchant of Bourdeaux,
70 marks, for 20 casks of wine, taken from him for the queen's
use.” But on Edward's succession, the change is immediate.
“To Raymund de Alemaunt of Bourdeaux, £46 13s. for 20 casks
of wine purchased from him for the king's use, by Gregory de
Rokesle and Matthew de Columbarius, the king's butlers.”
M
162 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.
In eighteen years, the king only appealed to his
people four times for assistance, and then on these
special occasions :— tº
In his fourth year, the second after his coronation,
he asked and obtained a fifteenth, to clear off his
remaining liabilities, on account of his expedition to
the Holy Land.
In his fifth year, he asked for a twelfth, to pro-
vide for the expenses of the anticipated war with
Wales. * -
In his eleventh year, the war in Wales having
broken out a second time, he obtained a thirtieth from
the laity, and a twentieth from the clergy.
And in his eighteenth year, having returned from
a prolonged visit to Gascony and other parts, where
he had incurred many expenses, he asked and
obtained a fifteenth.
These four small levies are all that Edward re-
quired during the first eighteen years of his reign.
The termination, for ever, of the destructive warfare
on the borders of Wales, which had so long laid waste
Several counties, was far more than an abundant
compensation to his people. And had Edward never
been assailed by others, the rest of his reign might
have passed over without any further demands upon
his subjects. Had not Philip of France endeavoured
to deprive him of Gascony, while the Scotch, in
reckless violation of their recent oaths, allied them-
selves to France, and invaded England, there is no
reason to Suppose that any burdens would have been
laid upon the people, or that the earls of Norfolk
and Hereford would have found any opportunity for
their resistance or their “patriotism.”
Yet the just and wise economy which was always
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 163
practised by this king, was kept in harmony with a
truly royal munificence. Beginning at the very
outset,_Edward's coronation-banquet was one of
unusual splendour and liberality. His round-table
celebrations must have been very costly. Fond of
hunting, his stables must have occasioned a con-
siderable outlay. His presents were magnificent.
His charities were very large. The entries under
this head, in his Wardrobe Accounts, were numerous,
and must have reached an aggregate, in each year,
of large amount. One of the chronicles of the day
makes this brief allusion to his charities:—
“ King Edward, turning aside to the northern
parts, celebrated Easter at Newcastle, where he
distributed great abundance of oblations in the
monasteries, and gave large alms to the people;—
insomuch, that many men not poor did not blush
to pretend themselves so, being allured by so great
liberality*.”
On the first anniversary of his consort's death,
besides great and costly solemnities at Westminster,
the Black Friars in London, and at Lincoln, we find
mention made of many other places, Haverfordwest, .
Burgh, Haverleigh, Somerton, Lindhurst, Ledes, and
Langley, where the day was observed with special
rites, and the distribution of alms. All this was
done at the king's expense; and sums varying from
#19 to £30 were given to each place. But £30, in
those days, was nearly equal to £500 at the present
time.
On the second anniversary, besides many other
celebrations, alms were distributed to the prisoners
* Chronicle of Lanercost, A.D. 1291.
M 3
164 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.
in Newgate; to the hospitals of St. Giles, St. James,
St. Thomas, St. Mary, and St. Bartholomew, in
London; and also to the seven houses of Friars Men-
dicants in the same city.
But while the king's charities were thus ex-
tensive, his household affairs were managed with the
utmost prudence. A modern writer observes, that
“his household as king was both well-regulated and
economical. We have a record of his expenses while
residing at Langley, Bucks, in Lent 1290.” This, of
course, was not a season of festivity; but we find that
“in the first week his expenses were £7 10s. 4d., in
the second, £5 19s. 0}d., and in the third, £5 12s. 246.”
Now, bearing in mind the habits and usages of
that timef, when the regulated price of a lamb was
sia pence, and of a goose, fourpence, we shall See at a
glance, that this expenditure for a king, in retirement
during the season of Lent, was both liberal and
economical. It contrasts forcibly with the reckless
extravagance of his father Henry, and of his still
more wasteful son, the second Edward. Henry, after
* Blaauw on the Barons' War, p. 34.
# The Chronicle of Lanercost gives us this anecdote of the man-
ners of that day:-‘‘Richard de Clare, earl of Gloucester, paid a visit
to Robert Grossetete, bishop of Lincoln, who received him with great
honor, and desired his seneschal to provide a fitting dinner. At table
the earl was seated at his host's right hand, and it was a day when
meat was not permitted by the church. It was customary to eat
choice sea-wolves,” (the dog-fish, still eaten in parts of Normandy,)
“ and the servants placed a very fine fish before the bishop, and a
smaller one before the earl. The bishop was angry, and said,
‘Take away this fish, or else bring the earl one equally fine.’ The
servants said, that there was no other so large. ‘Then,' said the
bishop, “take away this fish, and give it to the poor, and bring
me one like the earl’s.’” (Chronicle of Lanercost, p. 44.)
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 165
his royal festivities at Bourdeaux and Paris, in 1254,
returned home burdened with debts, which he himself
described as “horrible to think of.” And the younger
Edward, when just commencing life, seems to have been
accustomed to spend as much daily as we have just
seen his father spend weekly 1 We have a record of
his household expenses for three days in 1293, when
he was staying in a country residence. On Thursday
his expenses amounted to £7 4s. 5d., on Friday, to
f6 8s. 1d., and on Saturday, to £64s; being at the rate
of about £46 per week. The expenditure of his house-
hold in that one year amounted to £3,846 7s.6d, which,
at the present value of money, would be equal to more
than £50,000 per annum. That such habits in youth
should lead to a reign of discomfort, closing in dis-
honor, is not to be wondered at. But we must
return to our present subject.
The uprightness and practical wisdom which
marked Edward’s management of his pecuniary
affairs, were equally conspicuous in all other depart-
ments. His time, his thoughts, and his whole soul,
were given to his high and onerous duties. He had
succeeded to the throne of a realm which, for more
than eighty years, had not known the sway of one
competent sovereign. Universal laxity and disorder
prevailed. Instantly, therefore, and with a vigorous
hand, he applied himself to the work of establishing
a system of wise laws, and of improving the adminis-
tration of justice. His Sagacious and vigorous mind
penetrated and pervaded every department. And
hence it is, that in the judgment of all competent
historians, the thirteenth century is the starting-point
of the history of England. A writer of the Elizabethan
166 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.
age”, repeatedly notices with admiration, “his noble
industry,”—his “unceasing labours;” and this praise
is justified by the recorded facts. In former reigns,
foreign contests, and the suppression of rebellion,
or the enjoyment of hunting, filled up the reigns of
the Norman kings. But Edward lived for England.
In the former reigns, a brief charter had sometimes
been extorted from the king; and in Henry's long
reign, our statute book commences, with six ordi-
nances, made in the course of fifty-six years. But
So Soon as Edward ascends the throne, legislation
of the highest order at once begins. Crowned in
1274, in 1275 we have the Statutes of Westminster,
“a code, rather than an Act of Parliament.” In
1276, the statutes on Coroners and on Bigamy.
Occupied with Wales for one year, in 1278 we have
the Statute of Gloucester; and in 1279, the great
Statute of Mortmain. Once more Wales claimed his
attention; but in 1283 was passed “the famous
statute” de Mercatoribus. In 1284, followed the
Statutes of Wales. In 1285, the second Statutes of
Westminster, and subsequently, the Statute of Win-
chester. He was then abroad for three years; but on
his return, we have, immediately, the statutes Quo
Warranto, and Quia Emptores, and Westminster III.
Thus, it is evident, that Edward deemed, most wisely
and justly, that the establishment of good and whole-
some laws was his primary duty.
A hasty observer might remark, that the quantity
of this legislation was not large ; and that a statute
or two in a year might be reckoned a slow rate of
production. But the answer to this is obvious. The
* Castra Regia. Roxburgh Club.
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 167
Work of legislation was but newly undertaken, and
those who had addressed themselves to it were
prudently cautious. Some of these statutes, too, were
large and comprehensive measures; well deserving a
prolonged and careful consideration. But this brings
us to a distinct and separate question,-the cha-
racter and value of Edward’s legislation. And this
is the most wonderful feature in the whole case;
for the high quality of this legislation is probably
unparalleled. Who is a higher authority on such
Questions than Sir Edward Coke 2 who says of
Edward’s laws :-
“All the statutes made in the reign of this king
may justly be styled ESTABLISHMENTs; because they
are more constant, standing, and durable laws, than
have been made ever since. Justly, therefore, may
this king be called, our JUSTINIAN.”
Fifty years after sir Edward Coke, lived the great
and good sir Matthew Hale, who, in describing the
growth of the common law of England, says of this
reign :—
“Never did the laws, in any one age, receive so
great and sudden an advancement. Nay, I may safely
Say, that all the ages since his time have not done so
much, in reference to the orderly settling and es-
tablishing the distributive justice of this kingdom, as
he did in the short compass of his single reign.” He
adds, “Upon the whole, it appears, that the very
scheme, mould, and model, of the common law, as it
was rectified and set in order by this king, so in a
great measure it has continued the same, through all
succeeding ages, to this day. So that the mark or
epocha we are to take for the true starting of the law
of England, what it is, is to be considered, stated,
168 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. .
and estimated, from what this king left it. Before his
time, it was, in a great measure, rude and unpolished;
while, on the other hand, as it was thus polished and
ordered by him, so it has remained hitherto, without
any great or considerable alteration.”
A century after sir Matthew Hale, wrote Sir
William Blackstone; who, after repeating what Sir
Matthew had said, goes on, as follows:—
“It would be needless to enumerate all the par-
ticulars of these regulations, (king Edward's laws;)
but the principal may be reduced under these heads:—
“He established, confirmed, and settled, the great
charter, and the charter of forests. ~
“He gave a mortal wound to the encroachments
of the pope and his clergy, by limiting and establishing
the bounds of ecclesiastical jurisdiction; and by
obliging the ordinary, to whom the goods of intestates
at that time belonged, to discharge the debts of the
deceased.
“He defined the limits of the several temporal
courts of the highest jurisdiction; the king's bench,
common pleas, and exchequer, so that they might not
interfere with each other's proper business.
“He settled the boundaries of the inferior courts,
in counties, hundreds, and manors.
“He secured the property of the subject, by
abolishing all arbitrary taxes and talliages, levied
without consent of parliament.
“He guarded the common justice of the kingdom
from abuses, by giving up the royal prerogative of
Sending mandates to interfere in private causes.
“He settled the forms, solemnities, and effect of
fines levied in the court of common pleas.
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. 169
“He first established a repository for the public
records of the kingdom.
“He improved upon the laws of king Alfred, by
that great and orderly method of watch and ward,
established by the statute of Winchester.
“He settled and reformed many abuses incident
to tenures, by the statute of Quia Emptores.
“He instituted a speedier way for the recovery of
debts, by granting execution, not only upon goods and
chattels, but also upon lands, by writ of elegit, a sig-
nal benefit to a trading people.
“He effectually provided for the recovery of ad-
vowsons, as temporal rights.
“He closed the great gulph, in which all the landed
property of the kingdom was in danger of being
swallowed, by his reiterated statutes of Mortmain.
“I might continue,” adds sir William, “this
catalogue much further; but upon the whole we may
observe, that the very scheme and model of the ad-
ministration of common justice between party and
party, was entirely settled by this king.”
Legislation, then, was the chosen path of Edward,
—the work which he voluntarily took in hand, and in
which he constantly persevered ;-legislation, and not
war, as so many of our historians would have us
believe. Drawn, as he was, repeatedly into war, he
never once voluntarily engaged in it. The conflict
in Wales, the only one in which he was involved
during the first twenty years of his reign, was clearly
forced upon him. He could only have avoided it
by giving up one of England’s ancient rights, and
by leaving Wales free to wage perpetual wars with
England.
170 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.'
As a legislator, therefore, Edward stands pre-
eminent, above all other sovereigns, ancient or
modern. Yet this is scarcely half the praise which
is his due. Legislation which depended on a single
life, would obviously have one manifest imperfection.
The maker of good laws might be succeeded by a
maker of bad ones; or by a ruler who was incompe-
tent to make any. Hence we discern the immense
debt of gratitude which we owe to this wise and
patriotic king, for the establishment, not merely of
many admirable laws, but also of a legislature, fitted
and intended to carry on that work in all time to come.
“The word PARLIAMENT first occurs in our statute book
ăn the preamble to the Statutes of Westminster, 1274.”
But not for the word only, but for the thing, are we
indebted to Edward. The word, indeed, had been
used a few years before ; as early as 1246 one of the
king's councils received that name; but the thing,
the institution,--which we now call a parliament, was
bestowed upon England by the noble mind of king
Edward.
The expounders and historians of the constitu-
tion of England too often intermingle and confound
things which are essentially distinct. Into the forma-
tion of what we now so highly prize as the British
parliament, there enter, of necessity, four ideas.
Two of these existed before Edward’s day; but the
remaining two, which are by far the most valuable,
we owe mainly to him.
(1) The king must have a council—this, in Norman
times, was an assembly of the great men, the barons
of the realm ; and (2), this council must be con-
sulted, and must have a voice, in the imposition
of taxes. So far as this had England proceeded in
PAUSE AND RETROSPECT. iT1
its search after liberty before Edward had risen out
of his childhood. Magna Charta declares as much
as this; and the chronicles of the reign of Henry
III. tell us, again and again, that “the king held
a council, and asked for an aid.” And, towards
the end of his reign, some of these councils are
called “parliaments.”
But now Edward ascends the throne, and at once
two other ideas appear, two principles of unspeakable
value. In his very first parliament, and in the very
first Act of that parliament, these two principles are
broadly and plainly asserted ; namely (3), that such
an assembly, now first officially styled “a parlia-
ment,” properly consists of prelates and lords, and
“all the commonalty of the realm, thither summoned.”
And (4), that one of its chief functions is to deliberate
upon proposals laid before it, which are to become,
on its assent, statutes of the realm.
It is the enunciation of these two principles
which constitutes the real glory of king Edward’s
reign. That enunciation was his own voluntary act ;
and its sincerity was proved by all the measures of
his subsequent career. His life was devoted to the
working out of this great theory. His first statute,
in its preamble, gives a bold and fearless sketch of a
free legislature; and before he died, he had gathered
around him, as elected members of that legislature,
the representatives of all the most populous towns
of his realm of England. º
Justly then does the writer, whom we have al-
ready cited,—a contemporary of Spenser and Shakes-
peare, describe this king as one “in whom we see
the value of wisdom, kingly powers, and noble
industry,”—one who “was a fatherly king to his
172 PAUSE AND RETROSPECT.
people; employing all his life, care, and labor, to
benefit and nourish the commonwealth,”—one, in
fine, “in whom the good government and common-
wealth of England had their chief foundation*.”
* Castra Regia. Roxburgh Club.
CHAPTER THE SEVENTH.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
A.D. 1291—1292.
WE have now passed in review the first eighteen
years of Edward's reign, and have seen how utterly
baseless are those representations which depict him
as a man of an encroaching spirit, of “boundless
ambition,” and as “always intent on his own per-
Sonal aggrandizement.” Throughout this first and
longest portion of his reign, including the very prime
of his life, we have found him always choosing the
works of peace. And when forced, by the wilfulness
of the Welsh chiefs, into the field, he was unques-
tionably slow in commencing hostilities, anxious to
use every method of avoiding them, and prompt to
Seize any opportunity that offered of withdrawing
from a state of warfare. We shall now have to de-
scribe those transactions with Scotland, into which
Edward was drawn in the nineteenth and twentieth
years of his reign, and which ended by placing John
Baliol on the throne of that kingdom ; and we shall
find, on the part of the English king, the same cau-
tion, prudent deliberation, and desire to respect the
rights of others, which were apparent in the contro-
versies with Wales eight or ten years before.
Alexander III. of Scotland had married, in 1249,
Bdward's sister Margaret; and we have already no-
174 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.–TEHE ARBITRATION.
ticed, in a former chapter, the visit of the young
king and queen to the English court in 1256. The
Scottish queen again visited her parents in 1260,
and in February 1261 she gave birth, in Windsor
Castle, to a daughter, who afterwards became queen
of Norway. Alexander himself, with his queen, at-
tended the coronation of Edward in 1274, and both
Enighton and Trivet distinctly state, that he did
homage to the king of England on the following day.
But this, as it happened in the middle of a feast,
might refer to mere verbal and unrecorded expres-
sions; and it seems to have been held necessary that
this great public act should be done at a council,
and accurately recorded. Correspondence accordingly
took place relative to Alexander's next visit to Eng-
land; and it was not until the year 1278 that the act
of homage appears to have been properly performed
and put on record. Discussions seem to have taken
place on a question which had long been at issue :-
whether the homage paid was for the kingdom of
Scotland, or for certain lands held by the Scotch king
in the northern counties of England; and the form
of homage which was finally adopted leaves this
Question open. By it, Alexander “ becomes Ed-
ward’s liegeman against all his enemies”,” without
particularizing for what territories he so engages
himself. There appears, through the whole remainder
of Alexander's life, no breach of amity between him
and Edward; nor any attempt, on Edward's part, to
set up any new pretensions.
Ten or twelve years passed over, and the daughter
of the Scottish king, born in 1261 at Windsor, was
* Rymer's Faedera, vol. ii., &c.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 175
married to Eric, king of Norway. Her brother, the
only surviving Son of Alexander, was also married,
about the same time, to a daughter of the count of
Flanders. But a comparatively short period saw the
removal of the whole family by death, with the single
exception of a daughter of the Norwegian queen.
Margaret, Alexander's queen and Edward's sister,
died in 1274 ; her son in 1282 or 1283 ; and her
daughter, the queen of Norway, in 1283 or 1284.
Finally, Alexander himself was killed by a fall from
his horse in 1286 ; and thus the succession devolved
on the last descendant of his house, the young prin-
cess, styled “the maiden of Norway,” the only child
of Eric and Alexander's daughter.
On Alexander’s bereavement of both his children,
a meeting of the estates of the realm had been held
at Scone in 1283-4; at which meeting the succession
was declared to belong to “the maiden of Norway.”
On the last sudden and unexpected calamity,+the
death of the king himself, another meeting was held,
and recourse was at once had to king Edward, who
was the great-uncle of Eric's daughter. He was in
Gascony at the time, and he merely counselled them
to choose a regency, and to carry on the government
in the young queen's name. The intelligence seems
not to have at all hastened his return home, which
did not take place until two or three years after-
Wards*.
* Mr. Tytler, one of the best and fairest of the Scottish his-
torians, thus describes the king's conduct at this period:—“Ed-
ward contented himself with observing the turn which matters
should take in Scotland, certain that his power and influence
would in the end induce the different parties to appeal to him ;
and confident that the longer time he gave to these factions to
176 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
A council or parliament was accordingly held at
Scone on the 11th of April, 1286, at which a regency,
consisting of six “guardians of the realm,” was ap-
pointed. The persons chosen were, the bishop of St.
Andrew's, the earl of Fife, the earl of Buchan, the
bishop of Glasgow, the lord of Badenoch, and James,
the steward of Scotland.
But, in the absence of any visible sovereign, it
was not surprising that the Bruces, and Baliols, and
other families which claimed to be in the line of suc-
cession, should draw together, consult, and form con-
federacies, having in view the contingency which
afterwards did actually arise, – that the young
“maiden of Norway” might die before she could
ascend the throne. These rivalries and confederacies
increased, and the parties strove with each other,
until, at length, as the historian of Scotland confesses,
“open war broke out between the adherents of Baliol
and Bruce; and, for two years after the death of the
king, continued its ravages in the country.*.”
Such was the state of affairs during the last por-
tion of Edward’s stay on the continent; and assuredly,
for this sad predicament of Scotland, he was in no
quarrel among themselves and embroil the country, the more ad-
vantageously would this interference take place.”
Edward was at this time entirely occupied in the thankless
task of mediating between the princes of Arragon and Anjou, -
an endeavour which occupied him for a long time, and from
which he could not with honor withdraw. He also suffered a
long and dangerous illness. Yet, for not interfering in Scottish
affairs at this moment, he is to suffer the imputation of an insi-
dious and designing policy. Thus, whether he interferes or does
not interfere, whether he speaks or is silent, he is equally blamed
by a native of the northern kingdom.
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 72.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 177
way answerable. But the natural and inevitable
consequence was, that so soon as he arrived in Eng-
land, he was compelled, by appeals directed to him
from all sides, to begin to concern himself with the
troubles of that kingdom. Sir Francis Palgrave
has shewn, by a reference to the original documents,
that such appeals were addressed to him by the earl
of Mar, by Robert Bruce, lord of Annandale, and by
a body called “the seven earls of Scotland.” These
parties all “appealed to the king of England and his
royal crown.” So invoked, the king invited them to
send commissioners to meet him at Salisbury in No-
vember 1289, there to treat of “certain matters of
import;” and to which meeting the king of Norway
would also send an ambassador of his own. The
Scotch readily acceded to his proposal, and they sent
to this meeting at Salisbury the bishop of St. An-
drew’s, the bishop of Glasgow, Robert Bruce, and
John Comyn.
The “matters of import ’’ which Edward pro-
pounded to this meeting, concerned a plan, the best
which human skill could have devised, for restoring
and Securing the tranquillity of Scotland. The young
prince of Wales was now in his sixth year, the
maiden of Norway was of nearly the same age. If
these two children were betrothed to each other, the
kingdom of Scotland would at once be placed under
the joint protection of England and Norway. Thus
all would be security and order; and, in lapse of
time, on the succession of the young prince to the
throne of England, the unity and harmony of the
two kingdoms, under one head, would be secured in
the best and most unobjectionable manner. Even
the Scottish historians, with one consent, admit the
N
178 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS. —THE ARBITRATION.
wisdom and prudence of this plan, which Hume him-
self describes as “favorable to the happiness and
grandeur of both kingdoms.”
They also concede, that the negotiation was con-
ducted with the greatest fairness and liberality on
Edward's part. Appealed to on all sides, he could
not question his own position, as, practically, the
superior lord. The king of Norway had instructed
his ambassadors to treat with the Scottish commis-
sioners “only in the presence of the king of England.”
And, referring to a claim which he had upon the
Scots for a sum of about 3,000 marks, he requests
the king “to issue his commands to the guardians of
Scotland ” to pay him the money. The young queen,
also, while she was the daughter of the king of Nor-
way, was also the daughter of Edward’s niece. In
every way, therefore, the interposition of these two
kings was the reverse of officiousness or assumption.
Nevertheless, Edward, with his usual liberality of
feeling and practical wisdom, allowed the Scottish
Commissioners to make almost their own terms. He
treated with them, says one Scottish writer, “quite
on a footing of equality.” “The terms agreed upon,”
says another, “were strictly honorable to the weaker
party.” And thus was framed and completed, so far
as human beings could accomplish it, “a project,”
which Hume describes as “so happily formed and so
amicably conducted.”
But everything human is uncertain, and this
wise and prudent plan was wholly subverted in a few
short months by the death of the young queen on
her voyage from Norway in the autumn of 1290.
“This fatal event,” says Mr. Tytler, “which may
justly be called a great national calamity, struck
SCOTTISEI AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 179
sorrow and despair into the heart of the kingdom.”
Obviously, that state of anarchy and civil war which
had recently called for the interposition of the two
kings, might now be expected to return. The pre-
tensions of the rival candidates so nearly resembled
each other, and the difference between them was so
slight, that neither could be expected to give Way ;
and a bloody, and perhaps a long-protracted Strife,
seemed almost inevitable.
It is abundantly clear that the arbitration of some
eminent and powerful personage was the only con-
ceivable way by which the Scottish nation could
escape from this fearful peril. And to whom, but to
Edward, should they appeal in this emergency 7
To him they had already gone, more than once or
twice, in their recent troubles. Bruce, one of the
claimants, had been so far connected with Edward in
times past, that had any other referee been named,
he would probably have refused to acquiesce. But
to an appeal to the king of England, no objection
seems to have been made in any quarter.
The bishop of St. Andrew’s, whose name has just
been given, as the first on the list of the “guardians
of the realm,” and the first of the commissioners
sent to Salisbury, wrote to Edward on the 7th of
October, 1290, “entreating him to approach the
border, to give consolation to the people of Scotland,
to prevent the effusion of blood, and to enable the
faithful men of the realm to preserve their oath, by
choosing him for their king, who by right ought to be
soº.” For so calling upon Edward, the bishop is
severely handled by many Scottish historians. But
* Rymer's Federa, vol. ii., p. 741.
3 N
180 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
surely, with a civil war impending, the bishop de-
serves little blame; especially when we see that the
prince to whom he thus applied was afterwards
accepted as the arbitrator by all the competitors, and
by the assembled nobles of Scotland.
On the fact, that Edward was called upon by the
chief men in Scotland at this juncture, there is no
dispute, even among the Scottish historians them-
selves. Dr. Henry says, “The regents, the states,
and even the competitors, agreed to refer this great
controversy to the king of England; ” and “the
bishop of St. Andrew's was sent into England to
inform Edward of this reference, and to entreat him
to take upon him the office”.” And Mr. Tytler
adds, that “there is also reason to suspect, from
documents recently discovered, that Bruce and his
adherents had not only claimed his (Edward's) pro-
tection at this moment, but secretly offered to ac-
knowledge his right of Superiorityf.”
Thus invoked by the leading men in Scotland,
who wrote to him, “We shall be involved in blood,
unless the Most High provide a remedy by your
interposition,”—Edward, so soon as he had recovered
from the depression occasioned by the loss of his
queen, wrote to the chief men in that country, de-
siring them to meet him at Norham, on the Eng-
lish side of the Tweed, on the 10th of May, 1291.
Hume adds, that the king, “carrying with him a
great army, advanced to the frontiers.” But this
statement is shewn by the existing records to be
utterly untrue. Edward, knowing that he was about
to meet all the nobles and chiefs of Scotland, who,
* Henry's History, book iv., c. i. f Tytler's Scotland, vol. i., p. 84.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 181
in the existing state of things, would assuredly come
armed and well attended, issued writs to about fifty-
eight of his military tenants in the northern counties,
desiring them to meet him at Norham in the begin-
ning of June. This was obviously a measure of
precaution. He went to the place of meeting with
the Scottish chiefs, attended by his ordinary retinue.
But, foreseeing that Some troubles might arise, and
that it would be most inexpedient that the umpire or
superior lord should be powerless in the presence of
the Scottish barons, he took measures to have in
attendance, in about three weeks after the commence-
ment of the proceedings, a few thousand men, being
merely such a force as two or three counties could easily
raise. Hume again speaks of Edward’s “powerful
army,” and represents the Scottish barons as having
been “betrayed into a situation, in which it was
impossible for them to make any defence.” But, of
any “powerful army’’ there is not the slightest trace
in history; and if Hume had consulted Rymer, he
would have seen, that among the fifty-eight military
tenants who were summoned to meet in June, there
appeared the names of John Baliol, Alexander Baliol,
John Comyn, and Robert Bruce, all of whom held
lands of Edward as English barons. Thus the Scot-
tish leaders, so far from any “betrayal,” were fully
apprised several weeks before of Edward’s plans,
and were quite at liberty, if they thought fit, to adopt
measures for resistance”.
But we have only yet arrived at the 10th of May,
1291. The armed force which Edward had sum-
moned to meet in June had not yet appeared; and
* See Appendix F.
182 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
the king, with his chief nobles and great law-officers,
met the Scottish barons without any means or pur-
poses of intimidation.
But the first question which naturally arose was,
as to the nature and character of the proceedings
which were about to commence, and as to Edward's
real position in the controversy. To render the de-
cisions which might be adopted valid and conclusive,
it was essential that this point should be settled at the
commencement. If the Scotch merely wished Ed-
ward’s interposition as an elected umpire, they should
have been prepared with an agreement, signed by all
the contending parties, clothing him with this tempo-
rary authority, and binding themselves to submit to
his decision. Such had been the course taken in
England in 1264,when the disputes between Henry III.
and his barons were referred to the judgment of
Louis of France. But, in the present instance, no
Scottish writer has ever pretended that the barons
of Scotland had taken any such course, or had formed
any such plan. They simply “appeared.” But this
“appearance” disposes of another objection, some-
times taken by the Scotch writers, namely, “that no
national proposal had ever been made to Edward to un-
dertake the settlement of the question.” It is diffi-
cult to understand how, in a state of civil war, the
nation could speak. But the fact is, that the general
attendance of all the great men of Scotland at Norham
disposes of all such objections. It has never been
disputed that Scotland was there present, as far as
Scotland could be present ; and it is an universal
rule, that the mere fact of appearance, without protest,
terminates all such questions. -
But what was the king of England's position in
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 188-
that great assembly 2 and in what capacity did the
Scottish barons appear before him 2 On this im-
portant point, history is quite silent as to any acts or
declarations of the Scottish leaders.
It belonged, therefore, to the king to speak. He
at once told them, without the least reserve or delay,
by the mouth of Roger Brabazon, his chief justiciary,
“that the disturbances which had arisen, in conse-
Quence of the late king's death, were grievous to him,
and that, in consequence thereof, and for the restora-
tion of peace, he had travelled a great distance, in
order, as lord paramount, to do justice to all.” And
first, he asked them, in the most distinct manner,
whether they heartily recognized him as lord para-
mount of the kingdom of Scotland 7
This was, unquestionably, the most frank and
open way of proceeding; and it was, also, rendered
necessary by the position of the question. It would
have been manifestly absurd for the king to have un-
dertaken the decision of the controversy, without
first having it distinctly settled and understood in
what capacity or character he was acting.
At the same time we must not shut our eyes to the
fact, that Edward, while he proposed to determine
equitably the succession to the crown of Scotland;
did also propose, at the same time, to decide another
important question.
Whether Scotland was, or was not, a fief of the
crown of England; and whether the king of Scot-
land, when he did homage at Westminster, did it
for Scotland itself, or for some lands in England,
had long been disputed points. When England was
strong and Scotland weak, as in 1174, then the
homage paid for Scotland itself was clear and unques-
184 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
tionable. But when a weak sovereign ruled in Eng-
land, then the Scots were naturally contumacious.
This undecided and fluctuating state of things Edward
resolved to terminate ; and assuredly he is not open
to blame for so resolving. The great object he had
in view was a most noble and patriotic one. He
desired to bring the whole island of Great Britain
into a state of unity and harmony; and thus to put
an end to those internecine wars which had often
weakened and wasted the three divisions of the land.
Mr. Sharon Turner, who is a severe judge of the whole
life of Edward, does him justice, and no more than
justice, at this point of his history. He says:—
“In justice to one of the greatest sovereigns that
has swayed the English sceptre, it is important to
remark that, although the incorporation of Scotland
(with England) became at last his determination,
there are not sufficient grounds to impeach his probity
with this plan before the conduct of the Scotch led
him to adopt it. All that he claimed at the outset
was, the feudal sovereignty of Scotland. But so had
the king of France been the feudal sovereign of Nor-
mandy and Gascony ; and yet the kings of England,
who did homage for these possessions, had enjoyed
the government of those countries with sufficient in-
dependence. There is no evidence that when Baliol
was crowned, the king of England projected to abolish
the Scottish royalty or parliament. To be the lord
paramount, the feudal sovereign of the whole island,
as the king of France had been of Normandy, Bre-
tagne, Flanders, and Aquitaine, while these provinces
were enjoying their independent hereditary govern-
ments, was the honor to which Edward aspired; and
the great political object which he would have at-
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 185
tained by it would have been a termination of the
predatory wars which had always desolated the borders
of the two kingdoms. It was a species of impiety and
perjury for the liegeman to make war on his feudal
lord ; and it exposed him to the loss of life and ter-
ritory. Scotland becoming a royal fief of the English
crown, a new and sacred bond of amity was estab-
lished between the two countries. The facts, that
for four years Edward did nothing incompatible with
the continuance of the Scottish royalty, and that it was
the wilful hostility of Scotland itself which forced
him into the field against it, afford reasonable evidence
that the line which we have drawn was the limitation
of his ambition*.”
Edward’s object, then, was a truly patriotic one.
It was one in which the real interests of both
England and Scotland were deeply concerned. But
did he pursue a straightforward and honorable path,
or did he venture to “do evil that good might come?”
There is no ground for questioning the upright-
ness of his conduct. The homage of the Scottish
kings to the crown of England was a matter of gene-
ral notoriety; and before he went to the conference
at Norham, Edward had directed his great lawyers
to look into the facts of the case. They had collected
a long array of proofs, the bulk of which were
merely monkish traditions, recorded in old chronicles.
But, together with these, there were some undoubted
facts, which proved a superiority asserted by England,
and admitted by Scotland, during several centuries
ast.
p And besides all this, the circumstances which were
* Turner's History of England, vol. v., p. 75.
186 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.–THE ARBITRATION.
in Edward's own knowledge, all tended to the same
conclusion. What meant the application made by
the Scotch to him while in Gascony, or the repeated
appeals to him since by the bishop of St. Andrew’s,
by the seven earls of Scotland, by Robert Bruce, by
the earl of Mar, and others, all “appealing to the king
of England and his royal crown,” if Scotland was as
independent of England as it was of France or of
Norway? Sir Francis Palgrave has well observed,
that “we have now full evidence that the interp0-
sition of Edward was neither wanton nor aggressive,
and that it little deserved the terms by which it has
been described. Kings have hard measure meted out
to them by historians. Let the English monarch be
tried by the test and example of an English gentle-
man :-If, on the death of the copyhold tenant, all
the persons claiming the right of admission unite
in applying to the lord of the manor for a new grant,
will it be easy for him to doubt that he is the lawful
owner of the domain” ”
Such, then, was the first question opened at
Norham. It was, clearly, a necessary one; for how
could Edward commence his duties as judge, or
arbiter, until he knew whether, and upon what
grounds, he was admitted by the contending parties
to occupy that position. Hence he said to them,
at the very outset, “I come here as lord paramount;
—do you receive me in that character ?”
Their first reply seems to have been, that they
were not prepared to give an answer to such a ques-
tion; and that they wished for time to deliberate.
The king expressed surprise that they should be un-
* Palgrave's Documents, vol. i., p. 25.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 187
prepared to give an answer, since they were not
tgmorant of his intentions. We gather from this
expression, that the king had made no secret of his
views or purposes; and that there was nothing
sudden or unexpected in the demand which he made.
Still, as they desired time to deliberate, he adjourned
the meeting to the next day; and on their then appear-
ing still undecided, he gave them a further delay of
three weeks.
It is quite clear that this delay left to the Scottish
leaders the most entire liberty to choose any course
which they judged best. The most absurd charges
are brought against Edward, by modern Scotch his-
torians, of “fraud,” of “surprise,” and of bringing
the Scottish barons into a position in which they
could make no defence. But the baselessness of these
charges is quite evident. Edward, at this time, had
no military array; he met the Scottish lords on
equal terms. He then dismissed them, to depart to
their own homes, and return in three weeks with their
answer. They knew, and had long known, that in
June the king would have around him a few thousand
men, to enforce any decision at which he might
arrive. But the delay which he had frankly con-
ceded to them, placed them on a level with him, even
as to power. Had they chosen to resist his preten-
sions, they were at liberty to collect their forces;
and with these forces they might have returned to
the Tweed in June, replying to the king, “We do
not recognize you as our superior lord, but we are
willing to accept you as umpire.”
The Scottish barons, however, took no such
course. Their real weakness lay in their own
jealousies and disunion. They allowed the three
188 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
weeks to elapse, and returned to Norham in the be-
ginning of June, prepared to acquiesce in Edward's
demand.
At this second great meeting, the king's chan-
cellor, Robert Burnel, was the chief spokesman. He
opened the business by stating, that as the king his
master had granted them a sufficient time to prepare
any objections which they might have to his claim of
superiority, and as they had produced none, the
king would now proceed, acting upon his right,
to do justice, as lord paramount, to all the claimants.
“The chancellor then turned to Robert Bruce,
and demanded whether he was content to acknowledge
Edward as lord paramount of Scotland, and willing
to receive judgment from him in that character; upon
which this baron expressly answered, that he recog-
nized him as such, and would abide by his decision.
The same question was then put to the other com-
petitors, all of whom returned the same answer. Sir
Thomas Randolph then stood up, and declared, that
John Baliol, lord of Galloway, had mistaken the
day, but would appear on the morrow, which he did,
and then solemnly acknowledged the superiority of
the English king”.”
The king himself then addressed the assembly. He
declared his intention to pronounce a speedy decision
in the controversy ; and, meanwhile, to maintain the
laws, and re-establish the tranquillity of the country.
The several claimants then affixed their signatures to
two important instruments, the first, declaring their
consent to receive judgment from the king as lord
paramount ; and the Second, delivering the land and
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 88.
SCOTTISEI AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 189
the castles of Scotland into Edward’s hands, he
engaging to re-deliver them to the person who should
appear to be justly entitled. Then, a list of eighty
commissioners was formed, by the candidates them-
Selves, to which list the king was to add twenty-four
names; and these commissioners were to receive the
claims of the Several candidates, and to report them
to the king. -
On the 11th of June, the regents of Scotland
delivered the kingdom, and the governors of the cas-
tles gave up those fortresses, into the hands of king
Edward, who immediately re-delivered them to the
regents; promising to give full possession to the
rightful claimant, so soon as the question as to the
succession should be decided. The guardians of the
kingdom then swore fealty to Edward, as lord para-
mount, and were followed in the same oath by Robert
Bruce, by his son, by John Baliol, and by the earls
of Buchan, Mar, Athol, Angus, Lennox, Menteith,
and many other barons and knights. The peace of
king Edward, as lord paramount, was publicly pro-
claimed, and the assembly was adjourned until
the 2nd of August, then to meet at the town of
Berwick-upon-Tweed. On that day it again met;
and the claimants were invited to present their
petitions. These, which were twelve in number, were
read ; and the king recommended them to the atten-
tion of the commissioners; enjoining them to give in
their report to him, at Berwick, on the 2nd of June,
in the next year. Edward was at that time called to
England by the illness of his mother, who was then
on her death-bed. He had also the disagreeable task
before him, of suppressing a violent feud which had
broken out between the earls of Hereford and
I90 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
Gloucester. He probably also anticipated, that the
investigation of the claims of so many as twelve
candidates, by a large body of commissioners, would
necessarily occupy much time. On these grounds
he postponed the decision until the following sum-
mer, and Soon took his departure for England.
In June 1292, the commissioners assembled, the
king and all the claimants being present. It probably
now began to be fully understood, that the question
must lie between Bruce, who was the son of Isabella,
the second daughter of David, earl of Huntingdon,
and Baliol, who was the grandson of David's eldest
daughter. Some difficulties arising, the king desired
further information to be obtained ; and adjourned
the further hearing until the 15th of October. On
that day all parties again met, and the king proposed
to the commissioners two questions: first, by what
laws or customs the judgment ought to be regulated ?
and, secondly, was the kingdom of Scotland to be
regarded as a common fief, and the succession to be
regulated by the same principles which were applicable
to earldoms and baronies? The commissioners re-
plied, that the laws and usages of the two kingdoms
must rule the question; but if none existed to regulate
the case, the king must make a new law for a new
emergency; and that the succession must be decided
in the same manner as the succession to earldoms,
baronies, and other indivisible inheritances.
The claimants were then called upon, and each
endeavoured to maintain his own right. The language
used by John Baliol, who ultimately obtained the
kingdom, is worthy of notice. He urged, “that the
claimants were in the court of the lord paramount, of
whose ancestors, from time immemorial, the realm of
SCOTTISEH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 191
Scotland was held by homage; and that the king of
England must give judgment in this case as in the
case of other tenements held of the crown, looking
to the laws and established usages of his kingdom”.”
The king then required of his great council a final
answer to this question : “By the laws and customs
of both kingdoms, ought the issue of an elder sister,
but more remote by one degree, to exclude the issue
of a younger sister, although one degree nearer ?”
The council replied, that the issue of the eldest sister
must be preferred. Another adjournment then took
place, until the 6th of November. On that day the
king declared his judgment, that Bruce's right must
yield to the superior claim of Baliol. Whereupon a
new question was raised: John de Hastings, de-
scended from the third daughter of David earl of
Huntingdon, alleged that the kingdom of Scotland
was partible, and ought to be divided among the de-
scendants of the three daughters. Bruce followed,
maintaining the same view; and the king referred
the question to his council,-‘‘Is the kingdom of
Scotland divisible; or are its escheats and its revenues
divisible 7” The council replied, that neither could
be divided. One more adjournment then took place,
to the 17th of November, when all parties were
commanded again to meet, in the castle of Berwick-
on-Tweed.
“On that great and important day, the council and
parliament of England, with the nobility of both coun-
tries, being met, and the various competitors appearing,
the king solemnly decreed, ‘That the kingdom of Scot-
land, being indivisible, and the king of England being
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 96.
192 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
bound to judge of the rights of his subjects according
to the laws and usages of the people over whom he
reigns, by which laws the more remote in degree of
the first line of descent is preferable to the nearer in
degree of the second ; therefore, John Baliol Ought
to have seizin of the kingdom of Scotland, with re-
servation always of the right of the king of England,
and of his heirs, when they shall think proper to
assert it.”
“After having delivered judgment, Edward ex-
horted Baliol to be careful in the government of his
people, lest, by giving any just cause of complaint,
he should call down upon himself an interference of
the lord paramount. He then commanded the re-
gents to give him seizin of his kingdom, and directed
orders to the governors of the castles throughout
Scotland to deliver them into the hands of Baliol.
The great seal of Scotland was then broken into four
parts, and the pieces ordered to be deposited in the
treasury of the king of England *.”
On the following day, Baliol, in the castle of
Norham, swore fealty to Edward, who gave a com-
mission to John St. John to proceed to the coronation
of the new king. This ceremony took place on St.
Andrew's day; and towards the end of December the
king of Scotland visited Edward in England, and
paid homage to him at Newcastle-on-Tyne.
So ended this great transaction, and even Hume
is obliged to admit, that “the conduct of Edward,
both in the deliberate Solemnity of the proceedings,
and in the justice of the award, was so far unex-
ceptionable.” Other Scotch writers, however, have
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 100.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 193
endeavoured to impeach Edward's honor in this
affair on two grounds: They have alleged that he
would have decided in Bruce's favor, if Bruce would
have consented to acknowledge his feudal superiority;
and they have surmised, that he gave the preference
to Baliol as being mentally the weaker of the two
candidates, and therefore the fitter for his purpose.
The first of these fictions is sufficiently refuted by
Hume's own statement, that “ Bruce was the first that
acknowledged Edward’s right of superiority over
Scotland; for even in his petition, in which he set
forth his claim to the crown, he applied to him as
liege lord of the kingdom, a step which was not taken
by any other of the competitors.” So far, then, as
submission to Edward’s claims could merit his favor,
Bruce had gone farther than Baliol or any of his
other rivals. And the supposition that Edward’s
preference for Baliol was dictated by selfish motives,
is equally opposed to the known facts of the case.
Bruce and Baliol were both English barons, as well
as lords in Scotland ; but Bruce was the more Eng-
lish of the two. He, the competitor, had for many
years sat as a judge in Westminster Hall. His son,
the earl of Carrick, had accompanied Edward in his
expedition to Palestine; and in Rymer, under the
date of 1281, we find the following letter :—
“The king, to Bonrunonio de Lukº, et sancto
Merc de Luk, greeting: Whereas our beloved Ro-
bert de Brus, earl of Carrick, is in present need of
money, we request you that you will cause to be
advanced or lent to the said earl or his attorney, for
* De Luc or De Luke was a Florentine merchant or banker,
and collector of the Customs.
O
194 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION.
his occasion, forty pounds, and we will cause them
to be repaid to you. And when you have lent to
him the aforesaid money, you shall take from him his
letters patent, testifying his receipt of the same.
Witness our hand. Windsor, 10th September, 1281*.”
So far, therefore, as we can judge at this distance
of time, we should be inclined to think that the
king's preference was for Bruce, but that his sense of
justice compelled him to give judgment in Baliol's
favor. No mental weakness, supposed to exist in
Baliol, could be more favorable to Edward’s views
than the personal friendship of Bruce and his son.
Our English king, then, had preserved his in-
tegrity throughout this whole transaction. If any
sinister or concealed purposes had been entertained
by him, opportunities of furthering them had not
been wanting. If the subjugation and annexation of
Scotland had been then in his mind, the unwise proposal
of Some of the competitors, to divide the kingdom
into three,_offered him a signal opportunity of ad-
vancing his plans. Hume admits, that “his interests
seemed to require the partition of Scotland.” Yet
he promptly rejected the proposal. Rapin, another
historian who is by no means partial to Edward,
admits his purity in these transactions. He says,
“It appears from Edward’s whole conduct, that his
intent at first was not to become master of Scotland,
but only to render that kingdom dependent on Eng-
land, in which he did but follow the steps of most of
his predecessors.” “If he had designed a conquest,
he might have found pretences to place English
* Rymer's Faedera, vol. ii., p. 597. This, probably, is one of the
earliest instances we have, of an English king's cheque upon his
banker.
SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITRATION. 195
governors and garrisons in the fortresses that were
put into his hands; or by acceding to the demand
for the partition of the kingdom, he might have so
weakened it as to render its wretchedness and ulti-
mate fall inevitable.” sº
There remains, therefore, no other charge against
Edward, even from those most inimical to him, but
that of his having used this occasion to establish
what he deemed the rights of the English crown.
This Hume terms “iniquitous.” But let it be
remembered, that this measure, if successful, in-
volved consequences of the most beneficial kind,
alike to both kingdoms. Chiefly, it would have ter-
minated “ those predatory wars which had so often
desolated the borders of the two kingdoms.” And the
opportunity offered to Edward of accomplishing this
great work, must have seemed one which it would be
criminal to neglect. Long before he had approached
Scotland, its chief men directed to him many appli-
cations, in which they treated him as their superior
lord. He was sensible of the prodigious advantages
which would result from any scheme which rendered
this state of things permanent. He therefore ac-
cepted that which the Scotch seemed eager to offer.
At their request he assumed the place and the func-
tions which they tendered. Meeting the assembled
barons of Scotland, he frankly and explicitly stated
his views. Allowing them an abundant space for
deliberation, he again proposed the question. And
then, without a dissentient voice, Scotland accepted
him as her superior lord. That she, or that some
of her barons, afterwards repented of their deed,
and wished to retract it, occasioned many calam-
ities to both countries. In fact, this unfaithfulness
O 3
196 SCOTTISH AFFAIRS.—THE ARBITE ATION.
threw the two realms back into that condition of
enmity, from which it had been Edward’s aim to
rescue them. It led to the sacrifice of hundreds of
thousands of lives, and to the long postponement
of that union which, after all, was inevitable. But,
for all this, it remains indisputable that Edward's aim
was a noble and patriotic one ; and that the means
he employed were direct, straightforward, and suit-
able to the occasion.
CHAPTER THE EIGHTEI.
ENGLISH AFFAIRS.—TROUBLES WITH FRANCE.-
WAR IN SCOTLAND.
A.D. 1292–1296.
WHEN the king, in August 1291, adjourned the
Scottish question at Berwick until June 1292, his
most urgent reason for thus suspending the sittings
and leaving Scotland, was, the serious illness of his
mother, queen Eleanor of Provence, who died about
the end of that summer, at Ambresbury in Wilt-
shire; and at whose funeral he was present, early in
September, attended by a great assembly of prelates
and nobles, especially convened for that ceremony.
But there was another matter which still more
imperatively demanded the king's attention. Two of
the chief nobles of the kingdom, Gilbert earl of
Gloucester, and Humphrey earl of Hereford, had
Quarrelled, and had gone to the extremity of open
war. The earl of Gloucester was the king's son-in-
law. Presuming, probably, upon this, and confident
of his power, he had encroached upon the possessions
of the earl of Hereford, and had begun to build a
castle on the lands belonging to this earl. Bitter
contentions and open violence naturally followed ;
and the king, hearing of the quarrel, had been obliged
to send to the two earls his commands, reserving the
hearing of the matter for his own court; but enjoin-
198 ENGLISH AFFAIRS.
ing, meanwhile, an abstinence from all violent pro-
ceedings. But the quarrel had gone too far to be
so arrested. The followers of the two earls were
everywhere at enmity. Houses were burnt, churches
demolished, and many persons were killed. Hence,
without any delay, on the very morning after the
funeral of his mother, the king sat in council at
Ambresbury, whither a large assembly of the nobles
had come for the religious ceremony, and there called
the two earls before him.
The offence they had committed was of the highest
gravity. As the king's lieutenants, each in his own
district, their first duty was “to keep the king's
peace,” and to make all other persons keep it. In-
stead of which, disregarding the authority of the
law, they had plunged into open violence, and thus,
as far as in them lay, had introduced a state of
rapine and utter confusion.
Gloucester, now brought into the presence of law,
supported by power, put forward some pleas in justi-
fication, which required time for their establishment
or rejection. The king, therefore, directed the neces-
sary inquiries to be made, and adjourned the further
hearing until January 7th, 1292. On that day it
was adjudged by the king's council at Westminster,
—the king himself pronouncing the sentence,—that
the two earls were both guilty; that the liberties of
Glamorgan and Brecknock should be forfeited for
their respective lives; and that they themselves
should be committed to prison during the king's plea-
sure. The authority of the law was thus vindicated,
and two of the greatest nobles in the realm were
shewn to be subject to it. After a time the relaxa-
tion which was implied in the terms of the sentence
TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 199
took place. The earls were set at liberty, and their
forfeitures were commuted for fines proportioned to
their respective criminality. Hereford was ordered
to pay 1,000 marks, which was equal to about
£10,000 of our present money. But Gloucester, who
doubtless had been the aggressor, and who probably
presumed on his connexion with the crown, was sub-
jected to a fine of 10,000 marks, which, according to
our present values, would be equal to £100,000 !
During the summer and autumn of 1292, as we
have already seen, Edward was occupied with the
affairs of Scotland. Early in 1293 he returned to
England, and shortly afterwards a petty quarrel be-
tween two seamen on the coast of Gascony gave rise
to a war, wholly unprovoked on Edward's part, but
which harassed him in a variety of ways during the
next five years.
A ship from Normandy and an English vessel
had sent their boats ashore for water, near Bayonne,
and a scuffle arose as to the preference, in which one
of the Normans was killed. Irritated at their defeat,
the Normans carried their complaints to the French
king, who, most rashly and unwisely, bade them
avenge themselves. So encouraged, the Normans
boarded an English ship in the channel, and hanged
up one of the sailors at the yard-arm as a reprisal for
the loss of their comrade at Bayonne. But the Sailors
of the Cinque ports were not likely to submit to such
a wrong; new encounters soon followed, and the
channel quickly became one extensive scene of vio-
lence and unauthorized warfare. Ships were captured
and recaptured, and homicides of all kinds were fre-
quent. Edward quickly sent the earl of Lincoln to
the court of France, to desire that some means might
200 TROUBLES WITH FRANCE.
be found to put a stop to these disorders; but Philip
was a haughty prince, and disliked to make any
admission of his error. But while the earl waited for
his answer, the warfare on the coast came to its
height. A fleet of about two hundred French ships,
laden with wine, was met with by some sixty or
eighty vessels from the Cinque ports; and, a collision
taking place, the French fleet was nearly destroyed,
and several thousands of the seamen killed or thrown
overboard. The news soon found its way to the
French court, and Philip was exceedingly enraged ;
the more so, doubtless, inasmuch as he could not but
feel conscious that the whole mischief had sprung
from his own hasty and injudicious counsel. But
his wounded pride blinded his reason. He sent an
angry message to Edward, demanding immediate
compensation. Edward sent over the bishop of
London to represent, first, that he had his own courts,
in which he would see justice done at all times;
secondly, that he was ready to agree to an arbitra-
tion, which should decide the whole question; or,
thirdly, he would meet the king of France himself, if
any difficulty arose about a settlement. But Philip
was too angry to listen to any reasonable proposals.
The bishop had to leave the French court without an
answer ; the English students found it prudent to
quit the university of Paris; and generally, through-
out France, the English travellers and residents saw
themselves in circumstances of peril. Commerce
was entirely interrupted, and all things were falling
into confusion. At last Philip cited Edward himself
to appear before him in Paris, there to answer sun-
dry charges. The king sent his brother Edmund,
who had married the mother of the queen of France.
TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 201
He also took the precaution to send an able com-
mander, St. John, into Gascony, with instructions to
put that province into a state of defence.
Edmund was received at Paris with apparent
kindness, and the queen and the queen-dowager ex-
pressed great desire for the restoration of peace. But
they represented to him that Philip was chiefly en-
raged at some insults which he had received from the
Gascons; and that, if Edward would give him tempo-
rary possession of that province, so as to windicate
his honor in the sight of that people, he would engage
to restore it immediately, and would accept a very
easy satisfaction for all other injuries. This sort of
formal and temporary possession, given to the Supe-
rior lord, was not an uncommon thing in those days.
We have already seen that Edward, in the Scottish
arbitration, had the kingdom and its castles put into
his hands, on his engaging to restore them to the
rightful owner : and he did so restore them. In the
present case he does not seem to have supposed it
possible that two crowned queens could be lending
themselves to a fraud. Therefore, says Hume, “he
sent his brother orders to sign and execute the treaty
With the two queens. Philip solemnly promised to
execute his part of it; and the king's citation to ap-
pear in the court of France was accordingly recalled.
But the French monarch was no sooner put into pos-
Session of Gascony, than the citation was renewed;
Edward was condemned for non-appearance; and the
province, by a formal sentence, was declared to be
forfeited and annexed to the crown”.”
* Hume adds, very strangely, “Edward had thus fallen into
a like Snare with that which he himself had spread for the Scots.”
What “like snare?” Scotland had been placed in his hands, on
202 TROUBLES WITH FRANCE.
To a prince like Edward, this must have been a
double mortification. He was himself the very soul
of honor ; and to find his equals and associates
capable of fraud and deceit must have been grievous
to him. He also prided himself on maintaining to
the full all the rights and honors of the crown which
he wore ; and hence, to be robbed of a noble province
by mere chicanery and falsehood, would be doubly
vexatious. But to this loss he never for a moment
submitted, nor did he cease his efforts till he finally
regained that territory for the British crown.
In the summer of 1294, he prepared a large arma-
ment for the recovery of the province ; and appealed
to the clergy at Winchester for a liberal aid, which
was readily granted him. A parliament held in No-
vember gave him a tenth, which was voted and paid
with more than ordinary readiness; and Edward was
preparing to lead his forces in person, when a new
peril called for his presence in another direction. The
Welsh had felt aggrieved, a year or two before, by
the levy of a fifteenth, granted by parliament, and
collected by English officers in a manner to which
they were, as yet, unaccustomed. Hearing now that
the king was about to sail for Gascony, they deemed
it a favorable juncture for an attempt to throw off
the English yoke. It was always their wont to act
by a sudden outbreak. Accordingly, taking advan-
tage of a fair at Carnarvon, a rendezvous was ap-
pointed, and the leaders succeeded in surprising the
castle, and in putting all the English to the sword.
A small force, under the earls of Lancaster and
his promise to restore it; which promise he kept. Gascony was
placed in the hands of Philip, on a similar promise ; but that pro-
mise was broken. Instead of likeness, here is utter dissimilarity.
TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 203
Lincoln, advancing into Denbighshire, was defeated
by the Welsh ; and on the whole, Edward felt that it
would be unwise to leave England with such a sore
unhealed.
He therefore proceeded in November into Wales,
having placed the expedition for Gascony under the
orders of the earl of Richmond, who had with him
de Vere, St. John, and other officers of distinction.
The king kept his Christmas at Conway; but shortly
afterwards, attempting to penetrate further in spite of
the season, he was placed, for a short time, in a posi-
tion of difficulty and peril. He had led the way,
with the Vanguard, over a mountain-stream, which,
rising suddenly, became impassable, and thus divided
the few men who were with the king from the rest of
the army, while the baggage and provisions were
still in the rear. Thus separated from the main
body of his forces, the king was blockaded by the
Welsh, and found his little party nearly destitute of
provisions. There was not bread enough for their
wants, and water mixed with honey was the only
drink that remained to them. A single keg of wine
was discovered, which the soldiers naturally proposed
to reserve for the king's use. But Edward rejected
the thought, exclaiming, “No ; in a case of need, all
things should be in common; and we will all fare
alike, till God shall give us release. I, who have led
you into this difficulty, will know no preference.”
Happily, the waters Soon began to subside ; the rest
of the army found means to join the king; and the
Welsh were quickly put to flight*.
We shall see the king, a few years later, in his
* Walter Hemingford.
204 TROUBLES WITH FRANCE.
sixtieth year, sleeping, the night before the battle
of Falkirk, on the open heath, with his shield for
his pillow, and his horse for his companion. And
doubtless it was this soldierly frankness and hardi-
hood, joined with his knightly fame, and his never-
failing success, which gave him such remarkable
command over his soldiers, and made a campaign
under his leadership so attractive and popular a
duty.
This Welsh insurrection did not long detain the
king. The leaders of the outbreak, Morgan and
Madoc, were soon reduced to difficulties, and threw
themselves upon Edward’s mercy. Madoc was con-
fined, for a time, in the Tower of London ;-of
Morgan we only hear, that “he received mercy".”
Meanwhile, the hostilities between the Normans
and the people of the Cinque ports raged with
augmented fury. The English commanded the chan-
nel, landed where they pleased in Normandy, and
ravaged the towns and villages near the coast. They
took and burnt Cherbourg. Philip equipped a fleet
of three hundred ships, and this large force suc-
ceeded, for a time, in doing some injury to the Kentish
coast. But the French had no great cause for tri-
umph. The Chronicle of London, now in the British
Museum, briefly records, under date of this year,
1294, that “The Normauns came to Dovorre, and
brent a gret part of the towun ; but they were sclayn
every moder's son;–ther eschapid none.” One French
ship, with three hundred soldiers on board, grounded
near Hythe, and fell into the hands of the Kentish
men, ship and crew.
{} Matthew of Westminster.
TROUBLES WITH FRANCE. 205
One part of Philip's plan failed through the de-
tection of one of his agents. One Thomas de Turber-
ville, a knight of some note in Glamorganshire, being
taken prisoner by the French, offered his services to
Philip ; holding out large expectations of aid he
could render to the invaders. He represented, that
if released, he could obtain from Edward the com-
mand of one of the Cinque ports ; and could thus
give the French fleet and forces a Secure landing-
place. He was accordingly permitted to return; and
began to use his best endeavours to carry his plans
into effect. But probably his anxiety to be employed
on the Kentish coast awakened suspicion:—his cor-
respondence was intercepted; and letters, developing
his purposes, were seized. He was brought to trial;
the evidence was conclusive, and he received sentence
of death. And here we see what the real punish-
ment for high treason at this time was. His guilt
was more plain and more heinous than that of the
Jesuit priests, who, in Elizabeth's reign, conspired
against her life and government, in obedience to their
spiritual head at Rome. They were, not once or
twice, but in considerable numbers, hanged, disem-
bowelled, beheaded, and quartered. But this Turber-
ville, who had conspired, not against his sovereign
only, but against his own people, whom he was
willing to sell to a foreign invader, received the
milder sentence of being drawn to the gallows on
a hide or hurdle, there to be hanged, and left hanging
in chains. In a word, the punishment actually in-
flicted in Edward's time for the crime of high treason,
was merely that which, in our own time, has been
inflicted for piracy. And yet many writers have
represented, again and again, that the terrible punish-
206 TROUBLES WITH FRANCE.
ment for high treason, which was inflicted for several
centuries in England, and which remained on our
statute book until the days of Mackintosh and
Romilly, was devised and appropriated to that crime
in Edward’s reign
Philip's wrath, however, grew with his defeats;
and he began to form confederacies with other
powers, such as Norway and Scotland, for the inva-
sion and humiliation of England. And this brings
us to the commencement of the fearful story of the
wars between England and Scotland, which, in the
year 1295 began to be contemplated, and in 1296
actually broke out. These wars lasted, in the days
of Edward I. and II., for more than twenty years.
They again and again broke out, in subsequent
reigns, until the union of the two kingdoms finally
terminated them. The immediate question before us
is, With whom did they originate 7
Hume, and several other writers, unhesitatingly
assume, that these wars were intentionally provoked
by Edward, and formed a part of his plan. Hume
says, “His intention plainly was, to enrage Baliol
by indignities, to engage him in rebellion, and so to
assume the dominion of the state, as the punishment
of his treason and felony.” But upon the very face
of the matter, this supposition is manifestly absurd.
The war with France had broken out before Edward
took any hostile measures against Scotland. The
Scottish quarrel evidently occurred at the most in-
convenient of all periods; and could never have been
desired or Sought by him at that most inopportune
moment.
But, in proof that Edward desired to provoke the
Scotch to resistance, it is said, that “he encouraged
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 2O7
all appeals to England; required king John, by
six different summonses, to come to London,” and
in this way, “provoked him to windicate his liberty.”
Strange to say, none of the old Scottish writers
thus defend, or account for, Baliol's rebellion. Bar-
bour, the earliest of them, has not a word of this
story; Wyntoun speaks only of one appeal,—that of
Macduff, the earl of Fife ; Buchanan follows him ; and
even Mr. Tytler, the latest and best of all the Scotch
historians, rests his case solely upon this appeal of
the earl of Fife. No one pretends that Baliol ap-
peared to any other appeal. The citations alluded to
must have been mere legal formalities. It was the
conduct of Edward on Macduff's appeal, which con-
stituted the real grievance. Mr. Sharon Turner, who
reviews the whole case with an impartial and a
lawyer-like eye, says, “Edward received an appeal
against Baliol's judgment preferred by a Scotchman
to himself, as lord paramount, and summoned Baliol
to his parliament to answer it, and expressed dis-
pleasure when he attempted to dispute his homage;
but this, between 1292 and 1296, was the extent of
his adverse conduct. Two other cases, mentioned
by lord Hailes, were, the one, a complaint against
Edward’s own officers; the other, an illegal im-
prisonment of his officers”.”
Beyond this contention about appeals, there was
no quarrel between Baliol and Edward. Before any
judgment was pronounced, Baliol asked for time to
consult his parliament. It was granted ; adjourn-
ment after adjournment followed; and, in fact, no
judgment ever was pronounced. Meanwhile, Baliol's
* Turner's History of England, Vol. v., p. 75.
208 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
claim to the honors and lands of Tyndale, Penrith,
and Sowerby, with a third part of the honor of
Huntingdon, was allowed, and he was generously
exempted from a payment of £3,000 due from the
estates of his mother*.
The quarrel with Scotland, then, which produced
such terrible results, may be said to have taken its
rise, formally, from Edward’s assertion of the right
of receiving appeals. But was this any extravagant
or inordinate pretension on his part 2
On the contrary, it was an essential point of his
prerogatives as lord paramount; and it was known
to be so, by all parties, from the beginning. For
nearly seven years past the Scotch had been appeal-
ing to him. They had sent after him to Gascony, in
1286, to know what course they should take on their
king's death. In 1290, they had again applied to
him, in the most urgent manner, to come and decide
between the opposing claims of the competitors for
the crown. At their request he met the nobles of
Scotland, and at once told them, “I come as lord
paramount ; do you recognize me as such 7” After
some delay, and therefore without hurry or precipita-
tion, he was so recognized. And when he had de-
cided the question in Baliol's favor, he again distinctly
warned him of their mutual relations; counselling
him “to be careful in the government of his people,
lest by giving any just cause of complaint, he should
call down the interference of the lord paramount.”
Thus there never was the least concealment or re-
serve on Edward's part. He stated, from the first,
what he conceived to be his rights, and he found
* Lingard's History, vol. ii., p. 540.
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 209
nothing but acquiescence on the part of the Scotch.
And it was several weeks after this explicit declara-
tion, that Baliol came to him at Newcastle and took
the oath of homage, avowing himself Edward's
“liegeman for the kingdom of Scotland and all its
appurtenances.”
All questions being thus decided between the
two, how was Edward to act when the earl of Fife,
in the very next year, lodged an appeal against one of
Baliol's decisions ? To refuse to entertain it would
be to abdicate his functions as lord paramount. Such
appeals were not unusual, or even of rare occurrence.
Mr. Tytler himself says, “Edward, who was a vassal
of the king of France for the duchy of Aquitaine,
became involved with his lord superior in a quarrel
similar to that between himself and Baliol. Philip
summoned Edward to appear in his court at Paris,
and there to answer, as his vassal, for the injuries
which he had committed”.”
But it may be replied, that Edward, when so
summoned, refused to go, and preferred to declare
war against the king of France; and that the same
right must be conceded to Baliol. Unquestionably,
the same right, if the cases were the same. But all
turns, if we are discussing the moral aspects of the
question, on the respective grounds of quarrel.
Edward, as all historians agree, had been griev-
ously wronged by Philip, and was entitled, and in
fact was bound, to demand redress for these wrongs.
In his message to the king of France, declaring war
against him, he thus states the grounds of his resist-
ance and hostility:—
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 108.
P
210 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
“The king of England did you homage condition-
ally ; namely, according to the form of the peace
made between your ancestors and his, which peace
you have not kept. Moreover, that all differences
between your subjects and his might be ended, a
treaty was made between you and the lord Edmund
his brother, containing certain articles which you
have not performed. And after that, he hath required
of you, three several times, to restore his land of
Guienne, and to deliver those of his subjects whom
you detain in prison, all which you have refused.
Wherefore it seems to him, that you no longer count
him your vassal, and accordingly he refuses to be so
for the future.”
Now no one disputes, that as Philip had sinned
against Edward, so it was quite possible that Edward
might have sinned against Baliol. But what are the
grievances alleged ? There is nothing that deserves
the name: for the reception of Macduff's appeal was,
on Edward’s part, both a right and a duty. Yet this
reception constitutes the whole case against him ; and
upon this ground alone, the Scotch threw all their
Oaths to the winds, and resolved upon war.
In December 1292, at Newcastle-on-Tyne, John
Baliol, after full warning of the intent and meaning
of the homage, had taken the following oath:—
“My lord, sir Edward, king of England, sovereign
lord of the realm of Scotland, I, John Baliol, king of
Scotland, become your liegeman for the kingdom of
Scotland, and all its appurtenances and appendages,
which kingdom I hold, and ought of right and claim
to hold by inheritance, for myself and my heirs,
kings of Scotland, of you and your heirs, kings of
England, And faith and loyalty I will bear to
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 211
you and your heirs, kings of England, of life and
limb, and earthly honor, against all men that may live
and die%.”
Such was Baliol's oath, deliberately taken, with a
full knowledge of its meaning, in December 1292.
The like oath was also taken by all the nobles of
Scotland. Yet, in less than three years after, finding
Edward involved in a war with France, they eagerly
seized the opportunity of freeing themselves from all
these obligations. They sent an embassy to France,
and entered into a treaty, engaging to assist Philip
by invading England | Such was the first step in the
long and sanguinary Scottish wars. Mr. Sharon
Turner justly places these wars to the account of the
Scotch; remarking that,
“For four years Edward did nothing incompatible
with the continuance of the Scottish royalty; and it
was the wilful hostility of Scotland which forced him
into the field. From 1292 to 1296, though he received
an appeal against Baliol's judgment, and Summoned
Baliol to his parliament to answer it,” “yet this was
the extent of his adverse conduct. And So far was
Edward’s behaviour from being revolting to Scottish
feeling, that Bruce, the competitor of Baliol, having
died, his family desired Edward to receive its homage,
and willingly performed itſ.”
Edward, then, had done nothing to call forth the
hostility of Scotland; in fact, he had simply carried
out his own professions and pretensions, and expected
the Scotch to do the same. Being now involved,
by no fault of his "own, in a war with France, he
* Rymer, vol. ii., p. 590.
# Turner's History of England, vol. i., p. 76.
P 3
212 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
called upon Baliol, and the other Scottish nobles who
had sworn fealty to him, to give him their aid against
the hostility of the French. This aid every leading
man in Scotland had solemnly sworn to render; yet,
instead of keeping their oaths, the Scottish barons
instantly violated them in the most direct and flagrant
manner. They had sworn “to bear faith and loyalty
to Edward, against all men that may live or die ;”
instead of which they deliberately contracted with
Philip to raise an army and to fall upon England, so
as to assist the French king's designs. What share
of this treason and perfidy ought to be allotted to
Baliol it is difficult to determine. The whole power in
Scotland seems to have been taken out of the king's
hands, and usurped by a faction of the nobles; who
at first dictated to the king, and at last dethroned
him. They assembled a council or parliament at
Scone, at which they resolved to dismiss all En-
glishmen who were in any public employments; to
seize upon all lands in Scotland which belonged to
Englishmen; and even to deprive of their estates in
Scotland those Scotchmen who remained faithful to
Edward. “In this way Robert Bruce lost his lordship
of Annandale. It was given to John Comyn, earl
of Buchan, who instantly assumed the rights of
a proprietor, and took possession of Lochmaben
Castle”.” -
But the ruling faction was not even content with
wholesale confiscation. Mr. Tytler continues, “The
party who then ruled in the Scottish parliament,
dreading a submission on the part of their king,
secluded him from all power, confined him in a moun-
* Tytler's History of Scotland, p. 110.
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 213
tain fortress, and placed the management of affairs in
the hands of twelve of the leading nobles.”
Bruce the competitor, and formerly an English
judge, had lately died. His son, the earl of Carrick,
Whom we recently saw styled, in one of Edward’s
letters, “our beloved Robert Bruce,” and who was,
throughout his life, faithful to Edward, would naturally
Reep the king acquainted with all that was going on.
He would apprise him of this state of general dis-
Order, usurpation, and confiscation; the king in prison,
—all power monopolized by a faction, who plundered
and banished their rivals, and who were collecting a
force avowedly intended for the invasion of England.
This state of affairs would satisfy Edward that before
he could visit Gascony, he must do something for the
pacification of Scotland. The treaty with France was
no Secret; it was made by an embassy consisting of
Several persons, and it was discussed in the Scottish
council. Its main provisions would thus inevitably
become known ; and Robert Bruce would be able to
Warn Edward, that an invasion on the side of Scotland
was to be anticipated.
The king was thus involved in war, at once in
two opposite directions. Gascony had been fraudu-
lently seized upon, and he could not, for a moment,
contemplate submission to such a wrong. He there-
fore prepared a fleet of 352 ships, on board which
about 7,000 men were embarked ; but the state of
affairs in Scotland rendered it inexpedient that he
himself should accompany this force. He therefore
placed it under the command of his brother, the earl of
Lancaster; who, after gaining Some advantages, died at
Bayonne, and left the command to the earl of Lincoln.
Meanwhile, the king knew that it was absolutely
214 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
necessary, that he should take effectual measures to
protect his northern frontier against the threatened
Scottish invasion. But, although his revenues were
so well managed as to suffice for all ordinary demands,
the extraordinary exigencies of two wars had placed
him in a position of financial difficulty. A year or
two previously he had despatched one expedition into
Gascony, and now another had exhausted his means,
and the armament for Scotland was still to be provided
for. A larger supply than usual was needed, and how
should it be obtained ? The consideration of this
Question in Edward’s mind, produced, at last, what
Hume describes as “the real and true epoch of the
House of Commons,” and the “dawn of popular
government in England.”
Two earlier dates have been assigned for this
great epoch; but that which is now before us may
on some grounds claim the preference. Simon de
Montfort, in 1265, while he held both Henry and
prince Edward in his custody, summoned a kind of
parliament and assembly in Westminster, to sanction
some of his transactions with the king; and to this
parliament he called a portion of the barons,—i.e.
those of his own party, some knights, and the repre-
sentatives of certain borough-towns. But this whole
transaction was regarded, as Hume remarks, as
“ the act of a violent usurpation;” and no one
ever dreamed, in future years, of treating it as a
precedent.
Nearly twenty years had passed away, when Ed-
ward himself, in 1283, not wishing to determine
arbitrarily the fate of David of Snowdon, called to
Shrewsbury not only the barons and the knights, but
also representatives from several of the larger towns;
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 215
and before these representatives he placed not only
the case of David, but also the great “Statute of
Merchants,”—the first English law, probably, to
which the assent of any borough-representatives was
ever asked. -
Still, in the present case, a new feature, a new
cause for this appeal to the people,_is apparent. A
national peril, an exigency affecting all classes, had
shewn itself, and Edward, with his characteristic
manliness, resolved to place it frankly before his
people, and to ask their aid in a matter in which, as
he tells them, “all were equally concerned.” The
writs convening this parliament of November 1295
must be taken to speak the very language of Ed-
Ward’s own noble mind. Those writs commence as
follows:—
“As the rule of justice teaches us, that what
concerns all should be by all approved, so it also
indicates that common perils should be met by reme-
dies provided in common.” The dangers to which
the realm was exposed are then set forth, and the
writ concludes:—“Seeing, therefore, that your wel-
fare, as well as that of the whole realm, is concerned,
we charge you, on your loyalty and attachment to
us, that on the day after the feast of St. Martin, you
do attend,” &c.
These writs were addressed not only to the nobles,
the prelates, and the knights or lesser barons, but
also to the sheriffs or bailiffs of about one hundred
and twenty cities and towns. Each sheriff was
directed “to cause to be elected, of his county, two
knights, and of each city in that county two bur-
gesses.” And these were to meet, for the first time
in the annals of England, “to provide against the
216 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
dangers which threatened the kingdom ;” and they
were to be invested “with power from the commu-
nitates to do what the matter should require.”
On this 27th of November, 1295, accordingly,
there met this first complete parliament of England,
—the first of a long series of free and fully-consti-
tuted parliaments, “the archetype of all the repre-
sentative assemblies which now meet, either in the old
world or in the new”.” And, not unnaturally, the
burgesses, now for the first time consulted on an
exigency of the state, met the king's appeals and
requests with even more warmth and liberality than
either of the other sections of the parliament. The
clergy granted to the king a tenth ; the barons and
knights an eleventh , but the burgesses gave him,
without hesitation, a seventh. Such was the cordial
response given to Edward by his people, on his frank
appeal to them for support, in this, one of the great
emergencies of his reign.
These “aids,” granted to the king in the last
month of 1295, enabled him to prepare with vigour
for the important business of the following spring.
To Gascony, as we have seen, he had despatched a
considerable force. The coasts of Kent and Sussex
had shewn themselves, for two years past, able to
cope with all the power of Normandy. The chief
point of disquietude, therefore, was in the north. In-
vasions of the northern counties by Scottish armies
had been seen in former reigns; and Edward had
received full notice that such a step had been re-
Solved upon by the faction which now bore sway in
Scotland.
* Macaulay, vol. i., p. 17.
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 217
To wait in London until the Scotch had ravaged
Cumberland, would not have been the course of a
statesman or of a general. Whether as friend or foe,
Edward was always prompt, frank, and outspoken.
He directed a parliament to be summoned to meet at
Newcastle on the 1st of March, 1296, and to this
parliament the Comyns, Baliols, Bruces, and other
Scottish barons, would, as English lords, naturally
receive summonses. Baliol, especially, not only as
an English baron, but also as the chief vassal of the
crown, was called to this meeting, there to perform
his oath, sworn at that same Newcastle only three
years and three months before, in which oath he had
pledged his “faith and loyalty,” to stand by Edward,
and his successors on the throne of England, “against
all men that may live or die.”
Edward, as his manner was, Would take care to
proceed with strict regularity. But he could not
feel any doubt, that it was a campaign rather than a
parliament that he was about to open ; and he had
made his arrangements accordingly.
The king of Scotland, as Mr. Tytler remarks,
was, at this time, “ confined in a mountain fortress;”
and the Scottish barons who had assumed the man-
agement of affairs, were busily engaged in the col-
lection and organization of an army. All this would
be known to Edward; and accordingly, finding that
neither the king nor the barons made their appear-
ance at Newcastle, he put his own forces in motion,
and began to approach the Tweed.
Before, however, he could reach the frontier, tidings
came that the Scotch had already, without any public
warning, complaint, or declaration of war, actually
invaded England. On the 26th of March, the earls
218 WAR IN SCOTLAND
of Buchan, Menteith, Strathern, Lennox, Rosse, Athol,
and Mar, with a force of about 40,000 men, broke
into Cumberland, and ravaged the whole country
with savage ferocity. The Chronicle of Lanercost,
a record written at the time and on the spot, thus
describes this invasion:—
“In this raid, the Scotch surpassed the cruelty
of the heathen ; for, not being able to seize upon the
strong, they wreaked their vengeance on the weak,
the decrepid, and the young. Children of two or
three years old they impaled upon lances and flung
into the air. Consecrated churches they burned ;
women dedicated to God they ravished and slew.”
This exhibition of savage ferocity, however,
gained for the Scotch neither honor nor advantage.
When they came before Carlisle, a place of some
strength, “a handful of the citizens,” says Mr.
Tytler, “ compelled them to retreat with loss.” The
only real result of this movement was a disastrous
one for the Scotch. They had, by taking the initia-
tive, decided Edward's course. He was, throughout
his whole career, “slow to strife;” but he was not
likely to sit in silence while his realm was invaded
and his subjects slaughtered. He had reached Ber-
wick on the 30th of March, and there the intelligence
reached him of the Scotch invasion of Cumberland,
and of the cruelties they were perpetrating. His
exclamation, on receiving this news, is characteristic
of his noble mind:—“Blessed be God l’” he ex-
claimed, “who hath, up to this time, preserved our
hands blameless. But now, since they themselves
have entered our realm in hostile array, we, under
His guidance, will retaliate what they have done;
and will return their mischief upon their own heads.”
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 219
Surely those who are fond of representing Edward
as an ambitious and unscrupulous man, ought to
hesitate when they see him, at a crisis like this, so
manifestly anxious to be right; and feeling such re-
lief of mind when the aggressions of the Scotch made
his path perfectly clear. - -
He forthwith sent to those who held the command
in Berwick, a summons for the surrender of the town
on honorable terms. It was refused in the language
of scorn. Edward accordingly took measures for an
assault. He ordered his fleet to enter the harbor,
while he should assault the walls. Three of his
ships fell into the hands of the garrison, who instantly
put every man to the sword”.
But the avenger was at hand. Edward himself
led the assault, and was the first to clear the
ditchf. The English, animated by such an example,
carried everything before them. The castle surren-
dered upon terms the next day; and thus one of the
largest and most important towns in Scotland was
gained in the first three days of the campaign.
Some of the Scottish historians have striven to
tarnish Edward’s fame by representing the storming
of Berwick as a massacre. There is not the slightest
ground for such an imputation. The carrying any
town by storm must always be a dreadful operation,
* Wyntoun, the Scottish chronicler, says,
“Of these they saved never a man.”
Sk :k >k :*: .#
For prisoners in such awhile,
To kepe is dowte, and grete perille.”
f Peter Langtoft writes,
“What then did sir Edward 2 peer he had none like;
Upon his steed Bayard first he won the dike.”
220 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
whether the town be St. Sebastian or Berwick ; but
there was nothing to render the storming of Berwick
worse than other efforts of the same kind”. And the
Scots had themselves already provoked severity. In
their invasion of Cumberland, a few days previous,
they had “killed all they found ; sparing neither age
nor sea:” and in this very siege, when some English
ships and sailors had fallen into their hands, they
shewed no mercy.
While Edward was occupied with the repair and
restoration of Berwick, the abbot of Arbroath was an-
nounced, who brought to him a message or letter from
Baliol, renouncing his homage. But, as Mr. Sharon
Turner remarks, “if Baliol had not become Edward’s
liegeman, such a renunciation was unnecessary; and
if he were so, no liegeman could cancel his fealty
without the consent of his lord. The renunciation
was, therefore, evidence of its own absurdity.”
The Scotch chronicles, written long after, tell us
that Edward exclaimed,—“Ah fool and felon l of
what folly is he guilty l’” We may easily believe
that he would receive such a communication with in-
dignant contempt. He turned his face towards
Edinburgh, and began his march towards that city.
Midway between Berwick and the present Scottish
capital stood the castle of Dunbar. Its lord, the
earl of that name, was with Edward; but the countess,
“ hating the English,” called in, in her lord’s ab-
sence, some of the Scottish leaders, and put the castle
into their hands. So important was the possession
of this strong place considered to be, that the earls of
Athol, Rosse, and Menteith, with several barons and
* See Appendix G.
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 221
thirty-one knights, threw themselves into it, with a
large force, hoping to maintain it against Edward’s
strongest efforts. The king, equally aware of its im-
portance, despatched earl Warrenne, with 10,000 foot
and 1,000 horse, to capture it if possible. The gar-
rison, alarmed at his approach, sent to “the guardians
of Scotland” for aid, and the whole Scottish army,
of 40,000 foot and 1,500 horse, moved down to its
support. The garrison, now confident of Victory, in-
sulted the English, as if already beaten. But the
earl, says Mr. Tytler, “on the appearance of the
Scottish army, at once advanced to attack it. On
approaching the high ground, it was necessary to de-
ploy through a valley, and the Scotch imagined they
observed some confusion in the English ranks when
executing this movement. Mistaking this for flight,
they precipitately abandoned their position on the
hills, and rushed down with shouts upon the enemy.
But, instead of an enemy in flight, they found an
army under perfect discipline, advancing upon their
disordered columns. Having in vain endeavoured to
regain their ranks, after a short resistance they were
entirely routed. The victory was complete, and for
a time it decided the fate of Scotland. Ten thousand
men fell on the field or in the pursuit. A great mul-
titude, including the principal Scottish nobility, were
taken prisoners, and the next day, the king coming in
person before Dunbar, the castle surrendered at dis-
cretion. The earls of Rosse, Athol, and Menteith,
four barons, and seventy knights, submitted to the
mercy of the conquerors”.”
Edward lost no time in following up his advantage.
* Tytler, voli, p. 116.
222. WAR IN SCOTLAND.
He sat down before the castle of Roxburgh, which
was surrendered to him by James, the steward of
Scotland ; Dumbarton castle was yielded by Ingelram
de Umfraville; Jedburgh castle followed; and a con-
siderable reinforcement arriving from Wales, Edward
was enabled to dismiss to their homes part of his
English army. -
He now advanced to Edinburgh, where the castle
surrendered after a siege of eight days ; then to
Stirling, where a body of Irish auxiliaries joined him.
At Perth he kept the feast of St. John the Baptist,
creating new knights, with the accustomed festivities.
Here messengers from Baliol found him, with letters
announcing the Scottish king's submission. As
Baliol had long been kept in durance by the rebellious
barons, and as these were now, for the most part,
prisoners in Edward’s camp, we may reasonably Sup-
pose that this submission was one of the first spon-
taneous acts of the Scottish king on finding himself
at liberty. Edward sent back, as his answer, a mes-
sage signifying that he intended, in fifteen days, to
proceed to Brechin, whither the now humbled king of
Scotland might repair to meet him. Accordingly, on
the 10th of July, Baliol presented himself at Brechin,
acknowledged his offence, admitted Edward's right,
and resigned the kingdom of Scotland into his hands,
as a fief justly forfeited. Edward then assigned him
the Tower of London for a residence, with the liberty
of a circle of twenty miles round it. Here the de-
throned king took up his abode, residing in London for
the following three years, after which he was allowed
to retire to his estates in Normandy.
On the 28th of August, Edward held a parliament
at Berwick, where he received the fealty of the
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 223
clergy, barons, and gentry of Scotland. Multitudes of
all ranks resorted to him, earls, barons, knights, and
esquires. “The oaths of homage, the renunciation of
the French alliance, and the names of the vassals,
which fill thirty-five skins of parchment, are still
preserved among the English archives*.”
Edward next directed his attention to the settle-
ment of his new dominions; and “ the measures he
adopted,” says Mr. Tytler, “were equally politic and
just.” The jurisdictions of Scotland were suffered to
remain with those who possessed them under ancient
and hereditary titles; no wanton or unnecessary act
of rigour was committed, no capricious changes in-
troduced ; yet all proper means were adopted to give
security to his conquest. The earl Warrenne was
made guardian of Scotland, Hugh de Cressingham
treasurer, and William Ormesby justiciary. The
four castles of Roxburgh, Berwick, Jedburgh, and
Edinburgh, were committed to English captains. A
new seal, in place of the ancient seal of Scotland, was
given to Walter de Agmondesham, the chancellor;
and an exchequer for the receipt of the king's rents
and taxes was instituted at Berwick, on the model of
that at Westminster. The ancient coronation-stone
of Scotland was removed from Scone and placed in
Westminster Abbey, where to this hour it still
remains.
Such, then, was Edward’s first conquest of Scot-
land. No one disputes the skill and talent displayed
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 121. But sir Walter Scott says, “Most
of the noble and ancient families of Scotland are reduced to the
necessity of tracing their ancestors' names in the fifty-sia, sheets
of parchment, which constitute the degrading roll of submission
to Edward I.”
224 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
by him. The only charge alleged has reference to
the moral character of these transactions. Upon this
point, therefore, it will be right to add a few words.
That the union of the several divisions of a great
country, like England or France, into one power, is a
desirable thing for the country itself, is self-evident.
No one doubts that the union of Normandy with
France, and of Scotland with England, furthered the
interests of all these countries ; or that to sever, now,
Scotland from England, or Normandy from France,
would be disastrous to all the people of all these ter-
ritories. It was both right and expedient, then, that
the sovereigns of England and France should watch
for opportunities of effecting such unions, whenever
this could be done consistently with justice and honor.
For such an end might be attained by lawful means;
as when Philip II. took Normandy from John; or it
might be attempted by fraud, as when Philip IV.
essayed to take Gascony from Edward.
Was, then, Edward’s conduct, in the acquisition
of Scotland, marked by any kind of injustice or
wrong? Hume alleges that it was, charging him
with “numerous acts of fraud and violence.” But,
instead of numerous acts of this kind, has any one
act of either fraud or violence been proved ?
We are unable to find a scintilla of such proof.
Going back to 1286-7, we find that the only charge
brought against Edward up to that time is, that he
abstained from interfering. Next, his proposal in
1289 is approved by all historians as wise and just
and liberally framed. In 1290 he attempted no in-
terference until the chief men in Scotland earnestly
besought his interposition. Their approaches to him
had all the aspect of appeals to a superior lord ; and
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 225
he could hardly understand them in any other sense.
He accepted them as such, and plainly told the
Scottish barons that it was in this character that he
came among them. After some hesitation, they
accepted him as “lord paramount,” and in this char-
acter swore fealty to him.
Scotland had now a king, but both king and
people had paid homage to Edward, and had acknow-
ledged his supremacy. Soon after, a Scottish earl
lodges an appeal against one of Baliol's decisions, and
calls upon Edward to do him justice. Edward pro-
ceeds, in the ordinary discharge of the duties of his
office, to hear this appeal; and for so doing, heavy com-
plaints are brought against him; yet in taking this
course, he was guilty, in reality, of no offence what-
ever. Nevertheless, upon no other ground than this
did Baliol and the Scottish barons deliberately break
their oaths, ally themselves with Edward’s enemies,
and raise an army for the invasion of England.
By all the laws of feudal sovereignty at that time
known, they had by this act incurred the penalties of
perjury and treason; and, by their invasion of Cumber-
land, they had commenced a war against their acknow-
ledged lord. They rashly appealed to arms, and defied
the power of England, wielded by the first captain of
the age. They were overthrown, even before the waning
of a single moon. But here, as everywhere, Edward’s
clemency is the most remarkable feature in the case.
Not Baliol only, but all those who had forced him
into this war, were justly exposed to the loss of pro-
perty, if not of life. Yet, the contest once ended by
Baliol's resignation, all that remains, on Edward’s
part, is a willing amnesty, and a ready forgiveness.
Q
CHAPTER THE NINTH.
THE WAR WITH FRANCE—AND WARIOUS
TROUBLES AT HOME.
A.D. 1297.
EDWARD had now, apparently, achieved a great and
important object, returning, in the autumn of 1296,
to his palace of Westminster, the undisputed sove-
reign of both islands, and of all the territories con-
tained within them. But his fifty-ninth year, to
which he was now approaching, was destined to
prove one of the most trying and difficult conjunc-
tures of his life. He had established his dominion
over the whole realm ; had frustrated one of Philip's
main designs, by crushing the Scottish rebellion ;
and was now at leisure to deal with that monarch
on the soil of France itself. But, as each month
of 1297 passed along, it brought with it some new
peril ; until, before the year had closed, a series of
troubles and perplexities had so accumulated around
him, that few men but himself could have forced
their way through so many difficulties.
In dealing with France, Edward felt the disadvan-
tage of his position, arising from the distance of
Gascony from England. To convey an army to that
country, of force sufficient to reconquer the province,
would have exhausted both the treasure and the
military strength of England ; while, at the same
time, neither Wales nor Scotland were in so tranquil
THE WAR WITH FRANCE. 227
a state, as to encourage him to undertake such
an enterprise. With his usual sagacity, therefore,
Edward preferred to assail France on its northern
frontier, in the hope of so threatening both the
capital and Normandy, as to force Philip to relin-
quish his hold upon the Gascon province. On the
side of Flanders, too, Edward could obtain several
allies; and its nearness to England rendered the
conveyance of both men and stores less difficult and
less expensive. For all these reasons, Edward had
determined, in the course of 1296, to endeavour to
form a league, between himself, the earls of Flanders,
Holland, and Luxembourg, and the duke of Austria,
for a combined attack upon France on its north-
eastern frontier.
But all schemes of this kind,—and England has
Seen many of them,-inevitably tend to one result,
a subsidy. None of these princes were disposed to
go to war with such a kingdom as France, except
they were assisted in their preparations by a liberal
supply of English money. Having formed the desired
confederacy, therefore, Edward was next obliged
to call together his parliament, and to appeal to them
for a supply. The barons, without difficulty, granted
him a twelfth ; the burgesses, an eighth. But when
the king's representatives made their application to
the prelates and clergy, an unexpected difficulty at
once shewed itself. -
Boniface VIII., the reigning pope, and Win-
chelsey, the primate, were men of vigorous and
aspiring minds; and they evidently desired to tread
in the steps of Hildebrand and Thomas à Becket.
They believed that they saw the king of England in
circumstances of difficulty, and that an opportunity
Q 3
228 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
was thus afforded, for advancing a new claim on
behalf of the church.
Edward had undoubtedly begun to press with
increasing weight upon the resources of the clergy.
Nor was this at all surprising. His own necessities
were now great, and the wealth of the church had
long been visibly and rapidly augmenting. “ The
possessions of the clergy,” says Dr. Henry, “never
diminishing, but daily increasing, were now swelled
up to an enormous bulk, and threatened to Swallow
up the whole lands of the kingdom.” It has already
been remarked, that in the single reign of Henry III.,
as many as eight or nine of our splendid cathedrals
were built or greatly enlarged ; and during the same
period, no fewer than one hundred and fifty-seven
abbeys, priories, and other religious houses, were
founded.
Of all this wealth, the court of Rome took care
to demand and to obtain a large proportion. Some-
times the pope required a tenth, sometimes a fifth,
and once, as much as one half, of all ecclesiastical
incomes. In a few years, in the transactions con-
nected with the crown of Sicily, the pope was com-
puted to have drawn from England, no less than
nine hundred and fifty thousand marks, equal,
according to the values of the time, to above nine
millions of our present money. In a subsequent
reign, in 1376, the commons represented to the king,
“that the taxes paid to the pope, yearly, amount-
ed to five times as much as the taxes paid to the
crown.” Rome, then, depending so largely on the
supplies received from England, would naturally look
with jealousy on the increasing demands of the
crown, which must inevitably come into competition
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 229
with those which she herself was accustomed to
make.
Winchelsey, the primate, was a man of great
ability; and Boniface was eminent among the popes.
It may be difficult, at this distance of time, to deter-
mine with which of these two the idea originated,
but the fact is certain, that just at this moment, when
Edward needed and expected a large supply from
the church, the primate produced a bull, or mandate
from the pope, “forbidding the clergy to grant to
laymen any part of the revenues of their benefices,
without the permission of the Holy See.”
This was a sudden and a startling blow. By a
few words the king saw the whole treasures of the
church, – his main reliance,—shut up and sealed
from his touch. He had asked of the clergy a sup-
ply of “a fifth.” His commissioners appeared in
the convocation for a reply. The archbishop rose
and said, -“You know, sirs, that under Almighty
God we have two lords, the one spiritual, the other
temporal. Obedience is due to both, but most to the
spiritual. We are willing to do everything in our
power, and will send deputies at our own expense
to consult the pontiff. We entreat you to carry this
reply to the king; for we dare not speak to him our-
Selves.”
It was clear, that, to submit to this novel claim to
exemption, would be to prostrate the royal authority
at the feet of the papal. Already had the pope claimed
and exercised a co-ordinate power with the crown, in
taxing ecclesiastical property, now rapidly becoming
a large proportion of all the property of the realm ;
but he here asserted his sole and Supreme power Over
the whole. In future, the king was to receive aid
230 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
from the clerical body, only when, and so far, as the
pope granted his permission.
With either of the two preceding sovereigns, such
churchmen as Boniface and Winchelsey might have
prevailed, and so a foreign sovereignty of the most
disastrous kind might have been established in the
realm. But, happily, England had, at this crisis, a
ruler equal to the emergency, a sovereign whom
even those historians who are prejudiced against
him”, admit to have been a “great statesman,” “the
model of a politic and warlike king.”
With his usual firmness and sagacity, he took,
without delay, the most effectual and straightforward
course to suppress this new kind of mutiny. Compre-
hending, at a glance, the mutuality of the obligations
of the ruler and the subject, he at once decided that
those who refused to bear their share of the public
burdens, could have no right to appeal to the protec-
tion of the guardians of the public peace. A deputa-
tion of the prelates waited on him at Castle Acre
in Norfolk, to acquaint him with their determination,
and to explain the reasons for it; to whom he at
once declared, that “since the clergy had broken
their allegiance to him, by denying him that assist-
ance which by the temure of their estates they were
bound to pay, he would no longer feel any obligation
to protect them, or to execute in their favour, laws to
which they refused to submit.” At once, therefore,
“he consulted the lay peers, and issued a proclama-
tion of outlawry against the clergy, both regular and
secular,”—escheating their lay fees, goods and chat-
tels, to the use of the crown. And, as Edward was
* Mackintosh, Hume, &c.
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT EIOME. 231
__^
always frank and outspoken, his chief justice, sir John
Metingham, publicly announced from the bench in
Westminster Hall,—“You that appear for the arch-
bishops, bishops, or clergy, take notice, that in future
no justice is to be done them in the king's court, in any
matter of which they may complain. But, neverthe-
less, justice shall still be done to all manner of persons
who have any complaint against them.” “So bold a
step,” says Rapin, “astonished the clergy, who, since
the beginning of the monarchy, had never experienced
the like resolution in any king of England.”
We are now at the opening of the year 1297.
The strong measures of the king quickly carried
confusion into the ranks of the ecclesiastical confede-
racy. The archbishop of York, with all his diocese,
and the bishops of Durham and Carlisle, soon made
their peace with Edward, and paid their “fifth.” It
was not long before the bishops of Norwich, Ely, Lin-
coln, and Worcester, followed their example. Winchel-
sey vainly thundered his sentence of excommunication
against all who should disobey the mandate of the
pope. The sentence of outlawry proved to have the
greater force. Tenants refused to pay rent; horses
were seized on the highway; and the law, meanwhile,
repudiated all claims of the ecclesiastical mutineers
to avail themselves of its protection. The inevitable
result of such a state of things soon shewed itself.
The clergy, and especially the wealthier of them,
rapidly fell off from the archbishop; and sought and
obtained the king's pardon and protection.
But this ecclesiastical rebellion had been only the
beginning of troubles. Suppressed though it was, it
led to fresh difficulties of another kind. The large
and greatly-needed supply, upon which the king had
232 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
reckoned, was withheld : and it now came in only
slowly, and in fragments. The “aid” granted by
parliament required the customary time for its col-
lection. Meanwhile, Edward had pledged himself,
both to pay large subsidies to his allies in Flanders,
and also to bring over a considerable body of troops.
These promises he was now endeavouring, as was his
Wont, strictly to perform.
But now appears in England, for the first time, a
parliamentary opposition. Hume and Hallam award
great praise to the earls of Hereford and Norfolk, for
their firmness and patriotism in daring to withstand
the king; but they forget to give any credit to Edward,
for having introduced that parliamentary system into
England, which made such an opposition possible.
It is abundantly clear, that the earl of Norfolk dis-
liked the French war in 1297, just as the duke of Nor-
folk disliked the French war in 1797; and probably
each could have assigned very plausible reasons for his
dislike. The important fact, however, is, that alike in
1297 and in 1797, both of these noblemen were left
at liberty to oppose the war, and both of them did
oppose and obstruct it, the one in the thirteenth
century, the other in the eighteenth, without incur-
ring any loss of life or property for so withstand-
ing the king's views.
There is no reason to doubt, that the king had the
popular feeling with him. Even in the present day,
when peace is So greatly valued, and when considera-
tions of “utility” govern so many, the news that
Spain had surprised and taken Gibraltar, or that
France had suddenly seized upon the Channel Islands,
would light up a flame of indignation, and raise a
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 233
cry of war throughout the realm. How was it to be
expected, then, that in the days of chivalry, the
gentry and burgesses of England could hear of the
fraudulent seizure of such a province as Gascony,
without generally sympathizing with their sovereign's
indignation ?
Still, wherever men are free, differences of
opinion on all conceivable questions will shew
themselves; and we find from the records of the
time, that the earls of Norfolk and Hereford did
not heartily concur with the king's views. And, as
we have said, Edward had always conducted his
affairs in such a frank and open manner, as to give
full play to the expression of all such differences of
opinion. Whenever any great public question re-
Quired solution, his first step always was to summon
a parliament. And when the dissentient party had
thrown all possible obstructions in the way, we next
hear of the king's writing to the earl of Hereford, or
the earl of Norfolk, that he desires “to have a
private colloquium with him.” -
In the present instance, Edward resolved to meet
his parliament, for the final decision of all questions
concerning the war, at Salisbury, on the 25th of Feb-
ruary. Meanwhile, however, pressed by the various
and urgent demands upon him, he had begun to take
measures of a kind which always create a certain
amount of discontent. He laid new and heavy im-
posts upon wool, and he called upon the sheriffs of
all the counties to provide for him a certain quota of
wheat, &c. We do not suppose that there was any-
thing in these measures which materially differed
from the practice of modern wars; but it is evident
234 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
that such claims and demands would often occasion
inconvenience, and excite displeasure". The great
men of the realm, as well as the merchants and
farmers, would feel these requisitions, and Some of
them, doubtless, brought their irritated feelings into
the discussions in parliament.
The earl of Norfolk was the high marshal, and
the earl of Hereford the high constable, of England.
Edward, purposing himself to go into Flanders,
wished to commit the charge of a distinct force for
Gascony to these two earls; but they objected to
undertake this charge, alleging that their offices only
bound them to attend the king's person in his wars.
Chafed at this backwardness, the king, always ex-
citable, grew angry, and is reported to have said,
that they should either go or hang. To which Nor-
folk rejoined that “he would neither go nor hangf.”
The constable and marshal after this withdrew, fol-
lowed by a large body of knights, their retainers.
We know not much of the other proceedings of
that parliament. The king was evidently in a posi-
tion of great difficulty. Opposed by a large body of
the clergy, and now opposed also by two of the
greatest earls in the realm, he had still the war with
France on his hands; and from it he could not in
honor withdraw. Surely we might rather expect the
* Among the writs of that time, we find many addressed to the
sheriffs of counties, wherein the king “requests you to advise and
take order how you can assist him with one thousand quarters of
wheat; for which he will pay you punctually at Midsummer next.”
+ Hemingford says, “Exiratus Rex prorupit in haec verba,
ut dicitur, “Per deum, comes, aut ibis aut pendebis.’ Et ille,
* Per idem juramentum, O Rex, nec ibo nec pendebo.’”—See Ap-
pendix H.
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 235
sympathies of Englishmen to be with the king, in this
critical juncture, than with the two dissentient earls.
Edward, in resisting the wrong done to him by Philip,
was merely discharging a plain duty. How, then,
can it be deemed “patriotism” in these two great
nobles to desert their sovereign in this emergency,
and even to throw obstacles in his path ?
It seems tolerably clear that the discussions at
Salisbury were prolonged, and that the secession of
Hereford and Norfolk obliged the king to abandon
his purpose of sending a fresh expedition to the re-
lief of Gascony. The 7th of March found the king
still at Salisbury, and on that day Winchelsey paid
him a visit in that city. It was so much the king's
habit to have his opponents “face to face,” that it
seems most probable that the archbishop waited on
him there at his own desire.
The king, when the archbishop arrived, was at-
tending the service in the cathedral. When this was
over, Winchelsey had a private audience, the king
desiring him to say freely what he would. The arch-
bishop spoke at Some length, and was heard patiently
and without any interruption. The king, in reply,
told him that “if the pope himself had any temporal
possessions in the realm of England, he believed that
he, the king, might lawfully take of them for the de-
fence of his realm and of the church of England.” He
added, that “this was a cause in which he could dare
to die; since he felt that he was doing nothing unlaw-
ful, but was obeying a dire necessity which lay upon
himself and the kingdom.” Surely, in the frankness,
the wisdom, and the calm resolution of the king,
there is nothing wanting of the characteristics of
true nobleness of mind.
236 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
No actual reconciliation then took place, the pri-
mate being unwilling to abandon his ground, and the
king being resolved never to relinquish his. But
Winchelsey promised to send messengers of his own
to the pope; and the king, at his request, promised
to shew leniency to those of the clergy who had com-
mitted themselves on the papal side. On the 25th
of March a synod was held at St. Paul’s, in which no
positive resolution was adopted ; but the archbishop,
and those bishops who acted with him, agreed to con-
nive at those of the clergy who should make their
peace with the king, although, in so doing, they dis-
obeyed the pope; and Edward, in April, began to
shew mercy to those of the recusant clergy who had
published the bull in defiance of his orders, and who
had been imprisoned for that offence. In May and
June he was occupied in assembling his troops, and
in providing a sufficient naval force. On the 8th of
July the military tenants of the crown were sum-
moned to meet in London to do their accustomed suit
and service. The high constable and marshal at-
tended ; but as they had objected at Salisbury to go
to Gascony, because the king did not propose to
accompany that expedition, so now they objected to
go with the king to Flanders, because, as they said,
they could not find that any of their ancestors had
ever performed any service in that country.
The absurdity of this plea was self-evident. It as-
sumed that the king must not make war in any country
except those in which his ancestors had made war.
Evidently these two earls had no stomach for the war
on any terms. Doubtless they were at liberty to form
their own opinion of its expediency or inexpediency,
and to a certain extent to act upon it. But it is impos-
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 237
sible to help forming a low opinion of the patriotism
of two great knights, who, when such a captain as
Edward was embarked in a national contest, could
leave him to fight it out without their aid. But So it
was : they begged the king to appoint other officers
in their room. Edward, therefore, named Thomas de
Berkeley as substitute for the earl of Hereford, and
Geoffrey de Geneville for the earl of Norfolk. In
thus tolerating the conduct of these two earls, the king
shewed that self-control and practical wisdom which
distinguished him through life. But he was about to
go much further. He was on the point of quitting
home, to open a war, the length and the difficulties
of which he could not foresee. He desired, therefore,
to leave England, as far as possible, an united and
peaceful kingdom during his absence. With this
view, having broken up the ecclesiastical confederacy,
he announced to Winchelsey and his followers an
amnesty for the past, with a pardon for all who were
suffering any penalties for their recusancy. And
to make his desire for peace and harmony as mani-
fest as possible, he convened a large assembly in,
or at the entrance of, Westminster Hall. Here,
on the 14th of July, the king presented himself on a
raised platform, accompanied by his son, then in his
fourteenth year, the archbishop, the earl of Warwick,
and other lords. He then addressed the assembly,
first alluding to the burdens which, in the preparation
of his armament, he had been obliged to lay upon
them. “He owned that these burdens were heavy;
but declared that it had been as painful for him to
impose those burdens, as it must have been for them
to bear them. He had taken a part, in order to
secure the remainder. His sole object was, to pro-
238 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
tect the country from its enemies, and from those
who sought its ruin.” “And now,” he added, “I am
going once more to face the dangers of war for Eng-
land's sake. If I return, receive me again as you
have received me to-day, and I will make you full
amends. If not, here is my son ; place him on my
throne, and his gratitude will reward your fidelity.”
Edward could not conclude without visible emotion ;
the archbishop was equally affected; and the whole
assembly, with outstretched hands, vowed unshaken
fidelity*.
A fortnight after, a great council was held, at
which the king openly received the archbishop to his
favor, and nominated him one of the council to the
young prince, to whom he then desired all present to
take an oath of fidelity as the heir to the kingdom.
But Edward’s generosity and wish for peace never
overcame his judgment. At a synod held on the 10th
of August, the prelates craftily desired the king to
grant them “permission to send to the pope for his
license to grant the king an aid.” Edward at once
refused to be any party to that which would have
implied his assent to the papal claim. But he con-
tinued to treat the clergy with mildness; and shortly
after took leave of the primate, and left the metropolis
for Winchelsea, at which port his armament had now
assembled.
At this place, in the middle of August, he received
from the two earls and their adherents, a remon-
strance, in which they alleged,—“1. That they conceive
that they ought not to be called upon to do service
in Flanders, (for the reasons which we have already
* Matthew of Westminster.
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 239
described.) 2. That they have been aggrieved and
impoverished by the talliages, aids, and requisitions
already levied. 3. That Magma Charta has not been
properly observed. 4. That the Charter of Forests
is also violated by the king's officers. 5. That they
are aggrieved by the tax on wool. And, lastly,
desiring the honor and safety of our lord the king,
it does not seem good unto them that he pass over
into Flanders.”
This last clause explains all the rest. What the
actual feeling or opinion of the two earls really was,
—whether they were prepared to let France defraud
England of her fairest foreign possession,--we know
not ; but it is quite clear, that, either on principle, or
from views of expediency, they disliked the war with
France. And, disliking the war, it was natural that
they should still more dislike the heavy requisitions,
aids, and talliages, which that war rendered necessary.
One main feature of the case however, is, the tolerant
and reasonable nature of Edward’s government, which
now, for the first time, allowed questions such as
these to be discussed; first, in parliament, and then,
by a public correspondence. For the king, receiving
this public manifesto, disapproving his policy, ex-
pressed no anger at it. On the contrary, he received
and treated it with more tolerance than would be
shewn for a similar document in France at the
present day. To the messengers who brought him
the earls’ remonstrance, he answered, with calmness,
that he had not his council with him, and could not, in
their absence, reply to matters of so great importance.
That he should have been better pleased if the remon-
strants had gone with him; but since they would
not, he trusted that they would raise no disturbance
240 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
in his absence. Before he embarked, however, he
took care to reply to this remonstrance in the most
public and emphatic manner. A royal declaration
was drawn up, and sent to the sheriffs of all the
counties for publication. In this document the king
recounts the various steps of the disobedience of the
two earls ; and then repeats the apologies and assur-
ances which he had made at Westminster Hall. He
declares, that “he grieves that he should so burden
his people; and promises, that if he should return, he
will amend all things as he ought; and if not, he will
desire his heir to do so. For he knows well, that no
man is so much indebted to the people, or so much
bound to love them, as he himself. But there is
great necessity for him to go to the assistance of his
ally, the earl of Flanders; and his going over is of
immediate consequence, by reason of the danger
which his friends are in ;-whom, if he should lose,
the kingdom might be in great jeopardy.” He ends
with a desire that his people would pray that his
voyage might be prosperous, and have a good result,
to the honor of God, and the good of the realm ;
and that a durable peace might follow.
Having issued this, his public reply to the objec-
tions of the two earls, the king, on the 22nd of
August, sailed, carrying with him 500 ships, in which
were 1,800 knights and a large force of infantry.
But he could scarcely have landed in Flanders, before
great events occurred both in England and in Scot-
land;—events which concurred with disappointments
abroad, to induce him speedily to prepare for his
return home.
In the course of the summer, various rumours
had reached England, of a spirit of insurrection
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 241
which had shewn itself in Scotland, and of various
successes in partisan warfare which had been gained
by a leader named Walleys, or Wallace. Twice or
thrice had Edward written to Scotland, to desire his
representatives there to suppress these disorders with-
out delay. Had it not been for his engagements
with the earl of Flanders, there can be no doubt that
he would himself have returned into the north, and
have stopped the progress of these troubles in the
Summer of 1297. But his engagements bound him
to appear in Flanders; and he was obliged, there-
fore, to neglect the warnings of the two earls, who
told him, that the Scotch, having begun to rebel,
would do so with the more boldness when they
heard of his departure.
The English must have disembarked in Flanders
at the end of August or beginning of September ; and
it was in the early part of the latter month that the
folly of Cressingham, the treasurer of Scotland, gave
Wallace the victory of Stirling; and thus nearly
destroyed in one hour all the great results of
Edward’s campaign of the preceding year. The
news must have reached London by the middle of
September; and the young prince found it necessary
immediately to summon a parliament, to consider
what steps it would be expedient to take.
Norfolk and Hereford now saw an opportunity
offered them, of a more favorable kind than they
could have anticipated. The peril of England was
manifest, and all men would feel that union,-the
union of all her leading men, was so desirable, that
no slight difficulty could be allowed to stand in the
way. The two earls attended the parliament, having
first demanded some guarantees of safety. Their
R
242 THE WAR WITH FRANCE,
claims were not exorbitant; and we are not entitled
to lay to their charge more factious purposes or
conduct than has often been seen in opposition-
leaders in modern times. The chief grievance which
they desired to have redressed was, the practice to
which Edward had latterly been obliged to resort, of
levying aids or talliages without consent of parliament.
This, however, was no new claim set up by the crown.
Mr. Hallam remarks, that “hitherto the king's pre-
rogative of levying money, by name of talliage or
prise, from his towns or tenants in demesne, had
passed unquestioned.” Edward, then, in his hour of
need, had merely resorted to an old prerogative of the
crown ; and the earls, in demanding the surrender of
this prerogative, were claiming a large and important
concession from the sovereign to the people.
Some writers have awarded a large meed of praise
to the two earls, for their courage and patriotism in
wresting such a concession from such a king. But it
should be remembered that Edward himself was absent
when the two earls are said to have shewn so much
courage; that his return was uncertain and impro-
bable, and that the exigency of the state, from the
Scottish rebellion, was such as to render it impossi-
ble that any reasonable request should be denied. It
should also be added, that the two earls, who are
praised for their courage, took care to send over for
Edward’s signature, along with the charter, an act of
grace, Securing their own full pardon for what they
had done. It would have been a better, and a more
befitting proof of courage, had they, after preferring
their request or demand, proceeded to raise a few
thousand men, and to chace Wallace out of Cumber-
AND WARIOUS TROUBLES AT HOME. 243
land, where all this autumn he was committing the
most fearful ravages.
However, the demands of Norfolk and Hereford
were immediately conceded. On the 10th of October
the parliament at Westminster framed a new confirma-
tion of the charters, with fresh clauses prohibiting
the levying of talliages or prises, without the assent
of the prelates, barons, knights, and burgesses;–
and another statute or order, whereby the king
granted a full pardon to the two earls, “for all manner
of offences which they may have committed.” These
statutes were sent over to the king, and within three
days they were signed by him, and returned. Some
historians have actually argued, that this short delay in
the adoption of so important a measure, is to be taken
as manifesting Edward’s great reluctance and his
“many internal struggles l’” On this concession,
however, the laity granted the king an aid of an eighth,
the clergy of Canterbury, a tenth, and the clergy of
York, a fifth.
But it is time that we turned to the state of affairs
in Flanders. This expedition, and this war, proved
one of the most fruitless efforts of the king's life. A
regard to his own pledges and obligations carried him
there, at a time when it would have been far more de-
sirable for him to march into Scotland;—a disregard
of their pledges and obligations on the part of his
allies, made all his efforts and sacrifices nugatory.
“All Edward's measures in Flanders,” says Rapin,
“were broken by the treachery of his allies, who
forsook him after taking his money.” “His embarka-
tion,” says Hume “had been so long retarded by the
various obstructions thrown in his way, that he lost
R 3
244 THE WAR WITH FRANCE, &c.
the proper season for action.” He was merely able to
stop Philip's career; and Philip, finding his resources
exhausted, and dreading a reverse, began to wish for
an accommodation; which Edward, disgusted with
his faithless allies, and anxious about the state of
Scotland, was quite willing to agree to. On the 23rd
of November, therefore, a truce for two years was
agreed upon; and shortly afterwards Edward directed
writs to issue to the earls and barons of England,
calling upon them to meet him at York, on the 14th
of the following January.
CHAPTER THE TENTH.
W A L L E Y S , O R W A L L A C E .
A.D. 1297–1298.
THE present chapter will include some important
events; but it need not extend to any considerable
length. It will be devoted to a sketch of the public
life of William Walleys, or Wallace, which occupied
the space of just fourteen months.
The story of Wallace, like that of Arthur, or of
Robin Hood, has been so enveloped in the brilliant
haze of romance, as to make it apparently difficult
to distinguish the facts of his life, from the fictions
which gathered round his history. But a little calm
investigation dispels the difficulty. The real history
of Wallace may be found in the chronicles or other
writings of ten or twelve English annalists who lived
in his own day. The romantic traditions which were
cherished by the Scotch, never saw the light, in written
form, until the days of “Blind Harry,” who lived
nearly two centuries after. This wandering minstrel
may be of some little use, when he enlarges or illus-
trates the records of the thirteenth century; but
when he gives us marvels which are altogether at
variance with the unquestionable facts of authentic
history, his rhymes must take their place among
other old romances”. The chief thing to be re-
* Major, the Scotch historian, thus describes “Blind Harry:”—
“Henry, who was blind from his birth, in the time of my in-
246 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
gretted is, that while no modern Scottish historian
would venture to pin his faith on Blind Harry’s sto-
ries, most of them, perhaps unconsciously, borrow
Something from him. Thus, even Hume tells us,
that Wallace had “through a course of many years,
with signal perseverance, defended the liberties of his
native country.” The fact being, as we have already
stated, that Wallace's whole public career was included
within a space of fourteen months. To put this be-
yond any doubt, we shall state the facts in the very
words of various Scottish writers.
(1) Wallace appeared on the stage in May 1297.
fancy, (about 1470,) composed the whole Book of William Wallace;
containing the things which were commonly related of him. By
the recitation of these he obtained food and raiment. For my own
part, I give only partial credit to writings of this description.”
Two or three samples will shew that Major was quite right in
giving “only partial credit” to Blind Harry and his traditions.
1. Blind Harry begins with Wallace's discontent with Ed-
ward's rule over Scotland; and says that he was then eighteen.
He then conducts him through many wonderful adventures for
twenty-seven years, and at the time of his death states his age as
being forty-five. Whereas history asserts, with perfect certainty,
that Edward's first conquest of Scotland took place in 1296, that
Wallace was never heard of till 1297, and that his execution took
place in 1305.
2. Blind Harry makes Wallace fight seven or eight battles.
History, represented by ten or twelve writers of Wallace's own
time, knows of only two.
3. Blind Harry makes the queen of England, after the battle
of Stirling, seek Wallace, and fall at his feet to ask for peace.
History says, that there was no queen in England at that time,
nor for two years after.
4. Blind Harry then sends Wallace to France, where Philip
receives him gladly, and makes him “duke of Guienne.” History
says, that Philip put him in prison, and sent to Edward to offer
to transmit him as prisoner.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 2.47
The Wallace Documents, published by the Maitland
Club in Edinburgh in 1841, tell us, that “he first
appears in May 1297.” In Chalmers’s Caledonia we
read, “Wallace began his operations in May 1297.”
In Macfarlane's (Pictorial) History of England, it is
stated, that “Wallace is first mentioned in May 1297.”
On this point, therefore, no controversy can exist.
(2) His career closes, as a public man, in July
1298. After this, we hear of him, once or twice, as
a fugitive ; and at last, as a criminal on the scaffold;
but no one act is recorded as having been done by
him after this month of July in 1298. So confesses
Mr. Tytler in his Scottish history, where he tells us,
that “his name does not recur in any authentic record
as bearing even a secondary command in the wars
against Edward ; nor, indeed, do we meet with him
in any public transaction, until his execution, eight
years after%.” And in the Wallace Documents of
the Maitland Club, it is admitted, that “immediately
after the defeat which he sustained at Falkirk in
1298, he disappears from history, and no traces of
him are found until a very short time before his
execution in 1305.” It is, therefore, a fact quite
beyond any dispute, that the whole history of Wal-
lace, previous to his execution, is a history comprised
within fourteen months.
Wallace was of Welsh extraction. One of the
same name, “Henry Walleis” or “Walleys,” was
mayor of London in 1284, and again in 1298. “The
name of Walleys or Walleis,” says the editor of the
Wallace Documents, “simply designates any native of
the ancient kingdom of Wales.” His name, in a
* History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 165.
248 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
charter still in existence, is given as “Willelmus
Walays.” In his sentence it is “Willelmus Waleis.”
Still, it seems probable that his family had been
settled for more than a century in Scotland; and
hence he might have a better claim to call it “our
country” than Bruce, who was, in fact, an Englishman.
The father of Wallace was a small proprietor in
Elderslie. He was the second son, and “got the
five-pound land of Elderslie’.” “He was,” says
Mr. Tytler, “neither rich nor noble’” (p. 124). And
William himself, being also a younger son, had pro-
bably but small occupation and small means. He is
described by his panegyrist as a frequenter of fairs
and markets. “His make,” says Mr. Tytler, “ap-
proached the gigantic; his passions were violent, and
a strong hatred to the English began to shew itself.”
It is thus that partisan-chiefs and guerilla
leaders are usually formed. Great strength, violent
passions, leisure to cultivate the use of arms, and
discontent nourished by poverty and idleness; such,
in nine cases out of ten, are the qualities and cir-
cumstances which produce a rebel chief.
A market brawl, in which Wallace slew an
Englishman, Soon made him obnoxious to the autho-
rities, and drove him to the woods. He now began
to indulge his hatred to the intruders, by systematic
attacks upon them, as opportunities occurred. His
panegyrist Says :—
“Where he found one out of others' presence,
After, to Scots, they did no more offence;
To cut his throat, or stick him suddenly,
He cared not; found he them anerly ” (alone).
* Wallace Documents, Edinburgh : 1841.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE, 249
And the minstrel's chapters are often thus headed,—
“How Wallace slew young Selby;” “How Wallace
slew lord Percy’s servant;” “How Wallace slew the
buckler-player.” Mr. Tytler says:—“He was driven
to seek safety in the wilds and fastnesses. Here he
collected, by degrees, a little band of men of des-
perate fortunes.” “In his attacks on Straggling
parties of the English, he was generally successful.
Confidence came with success, and multitudes flocked
round the standard of revolt.*.” “Wallace and his
men lived by plunder; retreating when pursued to
the woods and fastnesses; whence they again issued
forth to attack the English convoys. All the Soldiers
who feil into their hands, were instantly put to death.”
“Great numbers of the English were openly mas-
sacred in almost every district beyond the Frith of
Forthf.”
Of one of these rencontres, the blind minstrel
thus speaks :-
“Wallace commanded they suld no man save ;
Twenty and two they stickit in that steid.”
Mr. Tytler adds,-" It was not uncommon for them
at these times to drive before them troops of aged
priests and nuns, whose hands were tied behind their
backs; and while the brutal soldiery and their hard-
hearted leaders sat on the bridges, these unhappy
wretches were cast down headlong, or compelled
to precipitate themselves into the stream, while
their drowning agonies were the subject of Savage
derisionſ.”
These atrocities are recorded by Knighton and
Trivet, two historians who lived at the time, and
* History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 126, 127.
# Tytler's Scottish Worthies, pp. 172, 184. : Ibid, p. 186.
250 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
Rnighton adds, that he had received the description
from the lips of a priest, who himself had been
present at, and managed to escape from, one of these
Iſla SS8,CI’éS.
Thus establishing a “reign of terror,” Wallace
and his followers were rapidly clearing the country
of the English; those who could not find safety in
some fortified place, naturally taking to flight. News
of these troubles reached England in June and Ju-
ly; but Edward had pledged himself to his allies
to join them in Flanders, and to turn northwards
instead, would have been a dishonorable abandon-
ment of his friends, and a breach of his deliberate
engagements. He could, therefore, only write to
earl Warrenne, urgently and repeatedly, to collect
a force, and to put down these disturbances,
spending, if needful, the whole revenues of Scot-
land in this duty.
But Cressingham, the treasurer of Scotland, an
arrogant and unpopular man, despised the insurgents,
and thus brought on a terrible defeat and loss. The
forces of Wallace continued to increase, and towards
the end of Summer, one name of note was added to
his array. Sir William Douglas, -who had been
governor of Berwick, and who had, on the surrender
of that place, been “readily admitted to the king's
peace,” receiving his liberty and a new grant of his
estates, and Swearing fealty to the king,-was the
first man in Scotland to set the evil example of a
disregard of a solemn oath. This perfidy and
treachery subsequently spread, and became so com-
mon in Scotland, as to drive the king, towards the
close of his life, into a state of absolute exaspera-
tion; leading him to abandon that mild and generous
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 251
policy, which, for the first thirty years of his reign,
he had followed.
As August passed on, the followers of Wallace
grew into an army, and he held possession of the open
country, no English power north of the Forth being
in the field against him. Earl Warrenne, however,
had now collected a force of about 40,000 or 50,000
men in the southern counties, and on the English
border; and was marching northwards, in Search of
Wallace and his followers. At the beginning of
September, the two armies approached each other, in
the neighbourhood of Stirling. Wallace's force is
stated to have been nearly the same as that of the
English army. Such was the overweening confidence
of Cressingham, that when lord Henry Percy brought
up an additional body of 8,000 men, the treasurer dis-
missed them, as unnecessarily adding to the strength
and to the expenditure of the army. It is evident
that that same confidence of success which ruined
the French armies at Crecy and Agincourt, was now
leading the English commanders to destruction.
The Scotch army occupied a good position on the
northern bank of the river; awaiting, as policy
evidently suggested, the English attack. A narrow
bridge spanned the river at that point, and offered
the only visible means of crossing to the opposite
bank. A Scottish knight, sir Richard Lundin, who
knew the country, and rode by the earl’s side, ex-
claimed to him, “If you attempt to cross the
bridge, you throw away your lives | The men can
only pass over by twos, and the Scotch command
our flank, and will be instantly upon us. I will
shew you a ford, where you may pass by sixty at a
time; give me five hundred horse, and I will secure it.”
252 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE,
Nothing else than fatuity could have disregarded
such counsel. But Cressingham, contemptuous and
overweening, exclaimed to the earl,-‘‘Why do we
waste time; let us pass On, as becomes us, and do
our duty I’’ The earl, nettled at this imputation of
backwardness, gave the order to advance. As might
have been expected, the result was disastrous. The
Scotch allowed a considerable body of the English to
pass, and then, while they were thus separated from
the main force, and endeavouring to form, a fierce
attack was made, and in an instant all was in con-
fusion. One part of the Scotch army seized the bridge,
while another part was engaged in the slaughter of
the disordered English. Many of these leaped into
the river and were drowned. Cressingham was
among those who had crossed. “His body,” says
Mr. Tytler, “was mangled; the skin torn from the
limbs, and in savage triumph cut to pieces.” Wallace
himself ordered as much to be reserved for him as
would make a sword-belt.
The English were thus sacrificed to the folly of
one man, who did not survive to bear the blame.
One knight only is recorded to have distinguished
himself:—Sir Marmaduke Twenge, one of those who
had crossed the river, was urged by a companion to
throw himself into the stream, in order to escape.
“What,” exclaimed he, “volunteer to drown myself,
when I can cut my way through them all !—never let
such foul slander rest on us !” “But alas for me!”
said his friend, who was on foot, and saw no such
possibility of escape. “Leap up behind me,” said
Twenge ; and so burdened, he gave his horse the
spur, drove him through the midst of the enemy, and
rejoined his friends in Safety.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 253
Earl Warrenne, though brave, and inured to
arms, seems to have been an impulsive man, who,
under defeat, lost all self-control. We have already
observed his flight from the battle of Lewes. And
now, in like manner, horrified at the massacre which
he beheld on the opposite side of the river, and
unable to remedy his fault, he gave the command of
the retreat to sir Marmaduke, and rode off to Ber-
wick. This sort of panic was even more disastrous
than his previous rashness; for in those days the
flight of the general implied the dissolution of the
army.
The English chroniclers state the loss of the
English at 5,000 infantry and 100 horse; but, in
effect, when the earl had left it, the army was dis-
banded. And so soon as the fate of the day was
decided, but not before, “the earl of Lennox, and the
steward of Scotland,” says Mr. Tytler, “threw off
the mask, and led a body of followers to destroy and
plunder the flying English.”
Sir Walter Scott, with his usual talent and per-
spicuity, thus describes the battle of Stirling :—
“The earl, an experienced warrior, hesitated to
engage his troops in the defile of a wooden bridge,
where scarce two horsemen could ride abreast ; but
urged by the imprudent vehemence of Cressingham,
he advanced, contrary to common sense, as well as to
his own judgment. The Vanguard of the English
was attacked before they could get into order ; the
bridge was broken down, and thousands perished in
the river, and by the swordź.”
Such was the battle of Stirling, the only victory
* History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 72.
254 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
which gives lustre to Wallace's name. And this, it
is quite evident, was, it may be said, laid at his feet;
—there being probably scarcely a man in his army
who did not see the English general’s blunder, or who
would not, if in command, have taken the same
advantage of it.
Availing himself of the panic which this overthrow,
and their commander's flight, had spread among the
English, Wallace, shortly after his victory, resolved
On gratifying his troops with a plundering excursion
into England. The opportunity, undoubtedly was a
tempting one. The king was absent in Flanders, and
so involved in the war with France, that his return,
just then, was impossible. The young prince, left in
London, was in his childhood, and his council were
occupied with the demands of the two earls. These
noblemen, bearing the high offices of “Constable ”
and “Marshal’’ of England, instead of interesting
themselves in the defence of their native country,
were busily engaged in devising “charters ” and
Securities against taxation. Acknowledging, as We
do, the value of the concessions which they suc-
ceeded in wringing from the crown, we cannot think
So highly as some have done, of two English
knights of high degree, who, having first excused
themselves from taking part in the war in Gascony,
and then having found a new excuse to avoid going
to Flanders, now remained still supine while the
Scotch were burning and devastating the northern
counties of England.
Wallace's preparations, however, for his proposed
invasion of the northern counties, throw some light
upon his real position with respect to the people of
Scotland. “The majority of the nobles,” says Mr.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 255
Tytler, “being still against him, Wallace found it
difficult to procure new levies, and was constrained to
adopt severe measures against all who were refractory.
Gibbets were erected in each barony and county-
town ; and some burgesses of Aberdeen, who had
disobeyed the summons, were hanged. After this
earample, he soon found himself at the head of a
numerous army”.” This language makes it quite
clear, that however this new leader might be sup-
ported by all the “men of desperate fortunes,” he
never had the people of Scotland at his back. Of all
the nobles and gentry of that kingdom, not more than
two or three ever allowed their names to be associated
with his; and these “gibbets erected in every county-
town,” shew that the burgesses were not more enthu-
siastic in his cause than the higher classes. His
followers were, indeed, from the beginning, the dis-
contented, the vicious, and “the men of desperate
fortunes.”
However, by the use of terror on the one hand,
and of hopes of plunder on the other, a sufficient
force was assembled in October 1297, to venture
across the border ; and, once in England, they in-
flicted on the northern counties, says Hemingford,
“all the miseries of unrestrained rapine and blood-
shed.” “Increasing his forces,” says sir Walter
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 142. Fordun plainly states the fact; and
Hector Boethius, in his Chronicle, says:—
“That samin time, thair was that made himploy;
Men in the north, that would not him obey;
36- * 3: *
Thairfor Wallace, without any demand,
* * k *
Syne for thair treason hangit them ilkane.”
256 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
Scott, “that he might gratify them with plunder, he
led them across the English border, and sweeping it
lengthwise from Newcastle to the gates of Carlisle,
he left nothing behind him but blood and ashes.”
The minstrel adds one or two features, telling us that
“The host
Began at Tweed, and spared nought they found.
º: * >{< *
All Durham town they burnt up in a gleed:
* * * *
For prisoners they liket not to keep ;
Whom they o’ertook, they made their friends to weep.”
Some details, however, are given by Heming-
ford, Matthew of Westminster, and other chroniclers,
which justify the belief, that the cruelties perpetrated
by Wallace and his followers on this occasion rivalled
the worst deeds of the greatest monsters known to
history. All the English writers of that period, who
go into any details, concur in charging Wallace with
“forcing English men and women to dance naked
before him, pricking them with lances and swords;”
with “slaying infants at their mothers’ breasts;”
with “burning alive a whole school full of boys,” &c.
The concurrence of various writers, all living at the
time, proves the general belief in these facts. One of
these records,--the Chronicle of Rochester, now among
the Cotton MSS.,-evinces the impression made on the
English mind at that period, by the insertion of pic-
torial representations of these scenes on the margin
of the chronicle. Nor does it seem likely that the
king would himself have publicly charged Wallace
with these crimes, as he does in his letter to pope
Boniface in 1301, if the circumstances had not been
quite notorious and beyond dispute.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 257
Here, too, the traditions recorded by the blind
minstrel may with propriety come in, not to establish
any new facts, but to shew that “the things com-
monly related” of Wallace in Scotland were identical
With those recorded of him in England. The burning
of large numbers of English, in kirks or mansions, is
boasted of by Blind Harry, with exaggerations, doubt-
less, but in more than one instance. Thus, in his
seventh book, he tells us “how Wallace burnt 4,000
Englishmen in the kirk of Dunottar ;” and some of
his rhymes run thus:–
“Some hung on crags, right dolefully to die:
Some leapt, some fell, some fluttered in the sea :
No Southran was left in all that hold,
And all within they burnt to powder cold.”
And in his eighth book he tells a similar tale of
a castle or mansion in Yorkshire, which Wallace
blocked up and set on fire:—
“Five hundred men, that were into that place,
Got none away, but died withouten grace.”
The numbers of the sufferers in these two Cases
are doubtless augmented by the license of the bard;
but the important fact is this, that the narrations
of the English chroniclers, and the charges alleged
against Wallace by Edward himself, are substantially
confirmed, and gloried in, by these old Scottish
traditions.
The admirers of Wallace now endeavour to gloss
over or extenuate these atrocities, speaking of them
as “ some acts of violence committed during the
fury of war.” Such is the delicate phraseology em-
ployed by Hume. But they were not “acts of vio-
lence,” but acts of savage ferocity. Neither were
S
258 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
they committed “ during the fury of the war,” but
in cold blood, when there was no hostile force in the
field against him,-his visit to England being mainly
for purposes of plunder. Only one observation,
however, need be dwelt upon, at this point of the
Subject, which is this : that any leader, in any age,
the thirteenth century or the nineteenth, who enters
the territory of another state, and deals with it as
Wallace is allowed on all hands to have dealt with
England in 1297, must lay his account to receive,
When he is caught, a speedy death upon the scaffold;
and that with the utmost severity that is ever em-
ployed at the time. Nor will the name of “patriot”
avail to save him. Who doubts that the feelings
of Wallace towards England in 1297, and of the
Nana Sahib towards England in 1857, were nearly
identical ? But the sincerity of their hatred cannot,
Surely, be admitted to be any extenuation of their
barbarities.
For several weeks Wallace and his followers
revelled in the spoils of burning towns and ruined
abbeys; but even then some retribution overtook
them. They lingered too long amidst these enjoy-
ments. “Winter set in with great severity. The
frost was so intense, and the scarcity of provisions
so grievous, that multitudes of the Scots perished
from cold and famine, and Wallace ordered a re-
treat”.” In useless revenge for this inroad, lord
Robert Clifford collected a force in Cumberland, and
invaded Annandale. A few villages and hamlets
were burned, and about three hundred Scots were
slain. It was to put an end to this wretched state of
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 148.
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 259
things, by making the English and Scotch one people,
that Edward had been laboring for several years
past.
But the exploits of Wallace were now over. In
fact, his successful skirmishes as a guerilla-leader in
the spring, his victory at Stirling in the summer, and
his ravage of the northern counties in the autumn,
constitute the whole list of his achievements. Be-
fore May 1297 his name was never heard, and after
December of that same year he only appears, first, at
Falkirk as a beaten general; and then, as a fugitive
and an outlaw. The wrathful feelings of the English
had been effectually roused by the barbarities in-
flicted by Wallace on the northern counties. Of this
we have the most signal evidence in the fact of the
remarkable response given to Edward's call. The
king had probably heard, when he issued his sum-
mons in November for a military rendezvous on the
14th of the following January, that Wallace had
broken into the northern counties. Some such reason
is needed to explain so unusual a step. In those
days, still more than in modern times, armies could
Scarcely move, or act, or indeed exist, in the depth
of winter. Still, if the Scotch were indeed in Eng-
land, it was needful, whatever the season might be,
to drive them out. But, when January came, Wal-
lace had retired; Edward was still involved in the
affairs of France and Flanders, and the proposed
march was postponed.
Yet the gathering at York on the 14th of January,
shewed at once the deep indignation which Wallace's
atrocities had excited, and the confidence which the
nation reposed in the strong right arm of their king.
Although no tidings of Edward’s landing had yet
S 3
260 wALLEYS, OR waſ LACE.
been received, and although Wallace had retired back
into Scotland, still to York there came, in the short,
dark days of January, no fewer than 4,000 horse,
and 100,000 footmen. Considering how lax and un-
certain the obligations of the military tenure had
become, and that the king was known to be still
abroad, we cannot but look upon this remarkable
concourse of Englishmen in arms, at that unusual
and inclement season of the year, as the strongest
possible proof of the eager desire which then ani-
mated the whole English people, to take a signal
revenge for the blood of their slaughtered fellow-
countrymen.
Their eagerness, however, was restrained by the
practical wisdom of the king. He would have been
apprised, probably, by vessels from Newcastle or
Berwick, that the Scotch invaders had retired.
Foreign affairs still detained him abroad, and he was
too wise to run any risk of a second battle of Stirling.
He therefore apprised his generals at York that his
return was still delayed; and he especially enjoined
upon them to engage in no general action until he re-
turned. The commanders, therefore, merely relieved
the castles of Kelso, Roxburgh, and Berwick, which
had been threatened by Wallace; and then, keeping
a small force by them, dismissed the bulk of the army
to their homes. Of Wallace, during these operations,
we hear nothing. When there was no English army
to oppose him, he had boldly crossed the border: but
now English troops were marching through various
parts of Scotland, and nothing is heard of the in-
surgent leader.
It was not until the 21st of March that Edward
landed at Sandwich, where he was received with
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 261
great acclamations,—all men feeling that on his Sa-
gacity, judgment, and military talent, the peace and
safety of the whole state, at that moment, greatly de-
pended. His first step on landing was to remember
his promise. He had assured his people, in the de-
claration which he had issued just before his depar-
ture, that for any wrongs done, or goods taken, by
his officers or purveyors, for the service of the war,
he would make them full amends. Without any
delay, therefore, he directed commissions to issue
to two knights and two churchmen in each county,
one of each to be named by the crown, and the other
by the people, who were to inquire in each district
what goods had been taken by the royal purveyors
for victualling the king's fleet or army. These com-
missions were issued in the first week in April, that
is, immediately after the king's landing.
The next step was, to send out, on the 10th of
the same month, summonses for a parliament to be
held at York in Whitsun week. These summonses
were promptly obeyed. A great meeting took place ;
and the two earls, Hereford and Norfolk, desired
again to open the question of the charters. Nothing
clearly could be more absurd than, with Scotland in
revolt before them, to enter upon a series of angry
political discussions. The king very wisely refused
to go into such questions at that moment ; but he
empowered the earls of Gloucester, Warrenne, and
Warwick, and the bishop of Durham, to pledge his
honor, and their own, that, so soon as Scotland was
Quieted, he, the king, would do all in his power to
give them satisfaction. These four mediators suc-
ceeded in pacifying Hereford and Norfolk; and, ac-
cordingly, arrangements were easily made for a
262 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
military rendezvous at Roxburgh on the 25th of
June.
Wallace had now been lost sight of in England
for more than half a year. The ravaged districts of
the north were resuming their former appearance;
and the excitement caused by the Scottish atrocities
had begun to subside. Still, however, on the second
summons, the English again shewed their eagerness
to inflict a suitable punishment on the aggressors;
and, on the appointed day, 80,000 infantry assembled
around their king; while the cavalry were now aug-
mented to 7,000 men, of whom 3,000 were in
full armour. This muster, of men coming from their
homes and avocations, just when the harvest-time de-
manded all the available labor of the country, is as
remarkable as that of the preceding January.
Wallace, meanwhile, had taken an unwise step.
At some petty meeting of the very few leading men
who adhered to him, the names of the earl of Lennox
and sir William Douglas being the only ones men-
tioned, he had procured himself to be appointed
“guardian of Scotland.” Such an assumption, with-
out the concurrence of any considerable proportion of
the earls, barons, and knights of Scotland, was clearly
unjustifiable; and it naturally tended to widen the
breach which already existed between this new leader,
whose name was still but of yesterday, and the great
men of the land, who, even more than in England,
deemed themselves entitled to direct the nation's
course. And it is admitted by all historians, Scottish
as well as English, that “the great majority of the
nobles were against him”.” This may have arisen, in
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 142, 147, 152.
WALLEYS, OR, WALLACE. 263
many cases, from a proper regard for their recorded
oaths, now Scarcely twelve months old; or, in others,
from the meaner sentiment of offended pride. But,
however this might be, it is quite certain that, from
first to last, Wallace never was entitled to speak in
the name of Scotland.
Having disgusted, then, most of the great men of
Scotland”, and being left to the poor resource of en-
listing all the “men of desperate fortunes,” and of
obtaining Supplies by hanging up burgesses, we can-
not wonder that Wallace took the prudent, and, in
fact, inevitable course, of retiring before the English
army, wasting everything in his retreat. By leaving
the country utterly bare of any living thing, he left
the English in the dark also as to his movements and
his position. Edward marched onwards, through
Berwickshire, to Lauder and Templeliston. The castle
of Dirleston was taken, and two smaller forts; but
provisions grew more and more scarce; and it was
rumoured that the Welsh in his army were ready to
mutiny. “Let them,” said Edward, with his usual cool
courage;—“let them go over to the enemy. I hope
to see the day when I shall chastise them both.”
This day, however, was to all appearance distant.
No intelligence had been received of the Scottish
army. As the English advanced, the country had
been wasted by an invisible hand, and Edward was at
length compelled to issue orders for a retreatf.
But at this critical moment, the dislike of the
Scottish nobles to Wallace saved the English army
from the impending failure. Two Scottish lords, the
earl of Dunbar and the earl of Angus, while they
* See Appendix I. f Tytler, vol. i., p. 155.
264 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
shrank from personally appearing in the matter, sent
intelligence to Edward by a page, that the Scottish
army was encamped in the forest of Falkirk. They
added, that it was Wallace's intention to attempt a
surprise by a night-attack; and if the English re-
treated, to hang upon and harass their rear.
Edward, on hearing this welcome news, could
not conceal his joy —“Thanks be to God!” he ex-
claimed, “who hath hitherto extricated me from every
danger | They shall not need to follow me, for I will
instantly go to meet them.” Without a moment's
delay, orders were issued to prepare for the march.
At three o’clock the whole army was on its advance,
astonished at the sudden change in its operations. It
was late before they reached a heath near Linlithgow,
on which they encamped for the night. “Each
soldier,” says Hemingford, “slept on the ground,
using his shield for his pillow ;-each horseman had
his horse beside him, and the horses tasted nothing
but cold iron, champing their bridles.” In the
middle of the night a cry was heard. The king, who
slept on the heath, while a page held his horse, was
awakened by a sudden stroke on his side. The page
had been careless, and the horse in changing his
position, had put his foot on the king while he slept.
Those around him cried out that the king was wounded,
and this, in the confusion of the night, spread an
alarm. But Edward had been only slightly hurt, and
as the morning was near, he soon mounted his horse,
and gave orders to march. They passed through
Linlithgow a little before sunrise; and on a rising
ground, a little distance before them, they saw the
ridge of the hill lined with lances. Not a moment
was lost. Their columns marched up the hill; but
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 265
on reaching it, the enemy had disappeared. These
lances had been the advanced guard of the enemy,
and Soon the English army could see the Scots in
the distance, arranging their lines and preparing for
battle”.
Wallace, aware of his inferiority of force, would
gladly have avoided an engagement, but this was
now impossible. A retreat in the face of 7,000 horse
would have been a ruinous step. He therefore made
the best arrangement in his power. He had a large
body of infantry armed with the long Scottish lance.
These were formed into four squares or “schiltrons,”
and presented a front which seemed truly formidable.
In the intervals were posted the archers; while 1,000
horse, in heavy armour, waited in the rear, until an
opportunity for a charge should occur.
The king, always prudent, having now made an
engagement Secure, proposed to give his army time
for rest and refreshments; but the ardour of the
soldiers and their leaders would brook no delay.
“An immediate onset.” was the universal cry. “In
God’s name, then, be it so,” said the king ; and,
without delay, the earl marshal, and the earls of
Hereford and Lincoln, led their troops forward.
They soon found a marsh between them and the
Scottish army, and were obliged to diverge to the
left to avoid it. The second line, under Anthony
Beck, inclined to the right; he wished to wait for the
arrival of the king, who brought up the third line,
but the eagerness of his men could not be restrained.
They soon came into contact with the Scots on one
flank, while the first line assailed the other. And no
# Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 157.
266 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
sooner had lances crossed each other, than the whole
body of the Scottish cavalry rode off the field with-
out striking a blow. Whether treachery, or dislike
of Wallace, or terror at the superior strength of the
English army, were the cause, it is certain that this
desertion at the commencement of a battle is one of
the most disgraceful facts in Scottish history. The
only hypothesis which relieves the fact from some of
its odiousness, is, that Wallace must have recruited
his army by force and terror.
The Scottish infantry, however, stood their ground
manfully ; and no mere charge of spears could break
their solid masses. But Edward was at no loss how
to deal with them. He ordered up his bowmen,
every one of whom was used to boast, that he carried
twelve Scottish lives in his quiver. Under their cease-
less and destructive discharge, the formidable “Schil-
trons” soon fell into disorder. The death-shafts
encumbered the ranks with dying men, and filled the
squares with crowds of the wounded and the dead.
Soon their ranks became unsteady, and the heavy,
armour-clad English cavalry came thundering in, and
swept everything away. Wallace and a few of his
men gained the neighbouring wood. Sir John Stew-
art and Macduff had fallen, and Mr. Tytler reckons
that from 10,000 to 15,000 Scots lay dead on the
field. The statement everywhere made, and univer-
sally believed in England at the time, was, that the
loss of the Scotch was 32,000, while of the English no
more than twenty-eight were slain. This assertion
at first sight appears incredible ; but if we recollect
that the Scotch cavalry fled the field and left the
7,000 English horse in possession of it; and that the
dense masses of the Scottish infantry were first deci-
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 267
mated by the English bowmen, and then broken,
hewed down, and followed in their flight by a nume-
rous body of cavalry, we shall easily understand,
that very few battles have ever been fought, in
which, of necessity, the loss of the beaten army
Would be So great, or the casualties on the side of
the victors so insignificant.
So ended the career, the active life, of William
Wallace. He had risen into celebrity and power by
the victory of Stirling in September 1297; and he
fell into utter disgrace and contempt by his defeat at
Falkirk in July 1298. Yet, as a military leader, he
deserved neither any considerable amount of praise
for the One, nor much censure for the other. So
enormous was the blunder committed by the English
general at Stirling, that the merest tyro in war could
Scarcely have failed to discomfit him. While, on the
other hand, overmatched in numbers, deserted by
the whole body of his cavalry, and opposed by the
ablest commander of the age, Wallace's defeat at Fal-
kirk might be considered to be inevitable. The only
remark in his personal disparagement which it seems
fair to make, is this :—that although himself a soldier
of great bodily puissance, and placed in circum-
stances calculated to draw forth all his powers, we
do not discern in his conduct, either at Stirling or
at Falkirk, any token of that talent in command, or
that valour in personal achievement, which are usually
deemed inseparable from the character of a hero.
The Scotch retreated from Falkirk to Stirling,
and, pursuing the same policy as before, they burnt
that town before they quitted it. A Dominican con-
vent, however, was left standing, and here Edward
remained for fifteen days, to recover from the effects
268 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
of the hurt in his side. This delay, in a commander
of so much activity, gives some probability to the
statement of two or three of the chroniclers, that tWO
ribs had been broken by the horse's tread. Recom-
mencing his march, after this period of rest, the king
reached St. Andrew’s and Perth. But Wallace, with
the recklessness of a desperate man, continued to
destroy and desolate every place which the English
approached. Neither shelter nor supplies were any-
where to be obtained. Edward, therefore, after march-
ing through Fife, and Clydesdale, and Lanark, and
Galloway, and finding no enemy or any occupation
for his army, gradually returned through Selkirk-
shire towards Carlisle, which city he reached in
September, and where he dismissed to their homes
the greater part of his army. The earl marshal and
the constable were again discontented, because the
king had made a grant of the isle of Arran to a
Scotch nobleman, without consulting them. But at
T)urham, in the autumn, he held a council, in which
he granted to some of the English nobles the estates
of those Scottish lords who had taken any part in
the late disturbances. After this, most of the leading
personages seem to have repaired to their own homes.
The news of the victory of Falkirk had spread
throughout England, and the people rejoiced that the
insults and barbarities of 1297 had been thus avenged.
Old Stowe, the chronicler, says:–“The citizens of
London, hearing of the great victory obtained by the
king over the Scots, made great and solemn triumph
in their citie.” Among other celebrations he espe-
cially notices that of the fishmongers, who, “in grand
and Solemn procession, passed through the city,
having, among other pageants, four sturgeons gilded,
WALLEYS, OR WALLACE. 269
carried on four horses; then four salmons of silver,
on four horses; and after these, six-and-forty knights,
armed, riding on horses made like luces of the sea” ;
and lastly, St. Magnus, with a thousand horsemen.
Thus did they, on St. Magnus' day, in honour of the
king's great victory and safe return.”
“Wallace,” meanwhile, says Mr. Tytler, “soon
after the defeat of Falkirk, voluntarily resigned the
office of guardian of Scotland;”—an office, we must
add, to which he had never been in any legitimate
way appointed, and his pretensions to which were an
offence to the whole nobility of Scotland. “The
Comyns,” adds Mr. T., “threatened to impeach him
for treason, for his conduct during the war; and the
Bruces united with their rivals to put him downf.”
“His name does not occur in any authentic record,
as bearing even a secondary command ; nor do we
meet with him in any public transaction,” until his
trial and execution seven years afterwards.
This accusation of treason has no appearance of
probability about it, nor has the slightest ground for
such a charge ever been shewn. But still, in the
simultaneous and total desertion of Wallace by all
Scotland, there is something which will bear only
one interpretation. In the summer of 1297, multi-
tudes of those who disliked the English rule flocked
around him; and his strength continually increased,
until, in three or four months, he stood at the
head of an army. But now, having lost one battle,
which, under the circumstances, no commander in
Europe could have gained, he is utterly cast off
by the whole of the Scottish people. A sort of smoul-
# A kind of fish. # Tytler, vol. i., p. 165.
270 WALLEYS, OR WALLACE.
dering warfare was kept up in Scotland for four
or five years after this, in which it seems probable
that Wallace's talents as a guerilla-chief might have
been available; but not once do we hear of him as
leading even a score of men. When he escaped over
to France to seek the aid of Philip, his followers
were “five soldiers.” And during all these years,
in which opportunities of distinguishing himself must
have abounded, not one single deed of daring is men-
tioned as having been performed by him. One thing,
however, is clear, amidst all this obscurity, namely,
that, whatever wandering minstrels may have done
to magnify his fame in after ages, the people of Scot-
land, between 1298 and 1305, were quite unconscious
of the presence of a “hero” among them.
CHAPTER THE EDEVENTH.
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLANT).-PAPAT, INTERFERENCE.-
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN.
A.D. 1299–1302.
WALLACE had now been thrown back into his
original obscurity, but the state of confusion which
he had introduced into Scotland could not be so
easily terminated. By a system of ruthless massacre,
and by establishing a “reign of terror,” he had driven
all Englishmen out of the midland and northern dis-
tricts, and had left in their possession only some few
castles in the southern part of the kingdom. And
then, when Edward came into Scotland to restore
order, he found all the southern counties so stripped
and desolated, as to render it impossible to maintain
an army in them. The king, therefore, withdrawing,
and Wallace being now utterly disgraced, it followed,
not unnaturally, that a sort of temporary regency
sprang up in Scotland, consisting of Comyn, Soulis,
and one or two others. And these leaders, although
they had all sworn fealty to Edward in 1296, did not
hesitate, in 1299 or 1300, to hold Scotland against
him, and to send both to France and to Rome to ask
for help, to deprive him of that sovereignty which
they themselves, only a year or two before, had
unanimously promised to defend.
Had England, however, been united and at peace,
272 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.
the king would have found little difficulty in restoring
Scotland to a state of order. But, on all sides,
during the next two years, there arose questions
needing adjustment. There was a truce, leading to
a peace, with Philip of France; but the peace itself
was not yet concluded: there was an arbitration
before the pope, upon which the restoration of Gas-
cony depended; but Gascony was not yet restored :
and, amidst all, there was a restless agitation kept
up by the two earls, and secretly fomented by Win-
chelsey, for the double purposes of limiting the king's
power of taxation, and of reducing the lands and
domains of the crown.
One or two of our historians,—more especially
Hume, have thrown much obscurity on these dis-
cussions “on the charters,” by omitting to explain,
with any clearness, the real nature of the points at
issue. They leave it to be supposed, or inferred, that
Edward disliked the obligations of Magna Charta;
and would willingly have thrown off all respect for
its provisions. Yet there could scarcely be a greater
misrepresentation. The whole tendency of his legis-
lation, during five-and-twenty years, had been to en-
large and improve that great contract, and to turn it
into statute-law. De Lolme remarks of Magna Charta,
that “it had only one article calculated for the in-
terests of that body which was the most numerous in
the kingdom.” It was, in fact, nothing more than a
great compact, devised by the barons and Langton
their leader, for the security of their own rights and
possessions against the encroachments of the crown.
But Edward’s legislation, from the beginning, had
taken a far wider range. His statutes were made,
freely and voluntarily, “for the common weal, and
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 273
for the remedy of all that were aggrieved.” Of his
first great Statute of Westminster lord Campbell
says, “It enforces the enactments of Magna Charta
against excessive fines; it enumerates and corrects
the abuses of tenures, and the marriage of wards; it
regulates the levying of tolls; it corrects and re-
strains the powers of the king's escheator; and it
amends the criminal law.” Thus Edward’s views
always went far beyond Magna Charta; and to de-
scribe him as being, at heart, unfaithful to that com-
pact, is, indeed, to carry injustice to the highest con-
ceivable extent.
The two objects which the constable and marshal
had in view, were, first, to deprive the king of that
power which all his predecessors had enjoyed, of
levying, in time of urgent necessity, “prises and tal-
liages,” without consulting his parliament. This was
a most desirable step for the people; but it involved
a great concession on the part of the crown. Their
second object was, to reduce the limits of the royal for-
ests. Of this we shall speak in a subsequent chapter.
Having all these matters before him, Edward
summoned a parliament to meet in Westminster
in the beginning of Lent, 1299. The first business
which was brought before it, was the award of pope
Boniface, to whose arbitration the two kings had
agreed to submit their disputes. Boniface had made
his award; and although it does not appear that the
parliament had any grant to make, or other duty to
perform in this matter, still the king chose to lay that
award before his parliament. We here again perceive
that same willingness, which is so often manifested in
the course of Edward’s life, to take counsel,-to
discuss all public matters in a parliament; and, in
T
274 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.
fact, to carry on his government very nearly as it is
carried on at the present day.
The pope had ordained, as a final settlement of
the disputes between the kings of England and of
France :-That there should be a firm and stable
peace between these two sovereigns; and hence, that
the cessation of hostilities between the two, which
was provided by the late truce, should continue and
be inviolably observed : that king Edward should
marry Margaret, the sister of the king of France,
and his son the prince of Wales, Isabel, the daughter
of the same king : that all lands, territories, and
goods, should be restored to their former owners:
and that compensation should be made for such as
had been destroyed.
This award was read and approved in parliament.
And now the two earls brought forward, once more,
their demand for a new confirmation of the charters,
and for a perambulation of the forests. This last
item, as we shall have occasion in a future chapter to
observe, was the real object which Hereford and
Norfolk had in view. The king granted the confirma-
tion; but with the addition of the words “salvo jure
coronae.” This proviso displeased the earls, and
they left the parliament in anger. Really desiring
to content them, the king summoned another par-
liament after Easter; in which he withdrew this
gualifying clause, and granted the confirmation unre-
servedly.
This reservation of the rights of the crown is
spoken of by one or two writers, as if it betokened some
insincerity or equivocation on Edward's part. Such
an imputation can only arise from not remarking one
peculiar feature in his character. He was always
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 275
cautious not to infringe on the rights of others; but
he was equally cautious not to surrender his own.
He never for one moment forgot, that he was merely
tenant for life of the crown of England, and it was a
matter of constant care with him, to do nothing
whereby the prerogatives of that crown might be
impaired. At every step, therefore, we find him,
throughout his long and eventful reign, avowing his
determination to give up none of the ancient rights of
the crown. It was on this ground that he carried
his army, first into Wales, and then into Scotland ;
because he believed that as king he was entitled to
the homage both of Wales and of Scotland; and that,
to neglect to assert that right, would be to abate
somewhat of the power and majesty of the crown
of England. Of his ceaseless care on this point, the
proofs meet us in every page of his history. Thus, in
his first great statute, which was an immense boon to
the people of England, he closes with the following
words :—“And forasmuch as the king hath ordained
these things to the honor of God and holy church;
and for the common weal; and for the remedy of
such as be aggrieved,—he would not that at any other
time it should turn to the prejudice of himself or his
crown; but that such rights as appertain to him
should be saved in all points.” In like manner, when
deciding the question of the Scottish succession, he
calls to mind that he himself is descended from a
princess of Scotland ; and he declares, “that John
Paliol ought to have seizin of the kingdom of Scot-
land; reserving, however, the right of the crown of
England, whenever he or his heirs shall see fit to
assert it.” And, in the same spirit, we find him, at
the parliament of Lincoln, in 1301, desiring those who
T 3
276 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.
attended it, to settle the perambulation-question “So
that their oaths and the oath of the king relating to
the rights of the crown may be saved.” Thus we see
that it was, in his view, a point of duty, to be kept
constantly in memory, that “the rights of the crown”
should not, by any remissness on his part, Suffer any
diminution.
The treaty with France had now been signed, and
measures were in progress for carrying it into effect;
when Edward was surprised by receiving a new appli-
cation from Philip, in the spring of this year, 1299,
demanding the release of Baliol and his son. Edward
at first postponed the question, but finally referred
it to the pope's decision; and in July, Baliol was put
into the hands of the bishop of Vicenza, Boniface's
representative, at Witsand, near Calais; Edward
expressly providing, that the pope might do as he
liked with the ex-king ; but that with the realm of
Scotland, and the people thereof, he should not
meddle, either on behalf of Baliol or his heirs, or for
any cause whatsoever. Edward, probably, was the
more willing to consent to Baliol's release and depar-
ture, inasmuch as the latter had recently, of his own
accord, declared, not only his renunciation of the
kingdom of Scotland, but also his determination never
again to set foot in a country “in which he had
experienced so much malice, fraud, treason, and
deceit *.”
Another point urged by Philip was, that the
Scotch should be allowed a truce for seven months;
and Edward, remembering his other engagements,
consented to this intermission of hostilities. One
* “Malitiam, fraudem, proditionem, et dolum.”—BRADY, App. N.37.
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND, 277
business which he had no desire to postpone, for war,
or any other occupation, was, his own union with the
princess Margaret of France. The loss of his beloved
Eleanor had left a void in his home-circle which he
had long been anxious to fill. Peter Langtoft writes,
of a period two or three years earlier than this,
that, on returning home from one of his journeys to
Scotland,-
“On fell things he thought, and wezt heavie as lead;
How chances 'gainst him foughte; and that his queen was dead;
His solace all was ‘reft, that she from him was gone.”
And it was not long after this before he began to
make enquiries; first, as to the princess Blanche, and
then, as to her sister Marguerite, of France.
The princess was brought over by the duke of
Bourgogne, landing at Dover on the 8th of September,
1299, and the marriage was celebrated on the 10th,
in Canterbury Cathedral,—the archbishop officiating.
A large number of foreign, as well as of the English,
nobility, were present. The new queen, like her
predecessor, seems to have been entirely devoted to
her great consort. Like Eleanor, even in war, she
was usually near to the king, and his attentions to
her were unremitting. Thus, of the Scottish cam-
paign of 1301, Peter Langtoft Writes,
“The queen Margaret then with child was she ;
The king bade her not stay, but come to the north countrye;
To Brotherton on Wharfe, and there she was
The mother of a son, the child hight Thomas ;
And when the king heard say she had so well faren,
Thither he went away, to see her and her bairn.
:k :k >k . :k
The queen, with her son, at Cawood leaves he ;
To them, on the Ouse, full often came he.”
278 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.
A month or two seems to have been given to this
celebration; but Edward had not forgotten that he
had castles and friends in Scotland needing his aid :
or that the truce stipulated for by Philip would soon
expire. He issued, accordingly, writs to his military
tenants, calling upon them to meet him, with horse
and arms, at York, on the 10th of November. There
his principal barons met him at the time appointed ;
and he moved on to Berwick, intending to march to
the relief of Stirling Castle, which was now pressed
by the forces of the regents, and had sent to him for
aid. But the ardour of the king was greater than that
of his followers. They disliked a Scotch campaign
in the months of December and January, and SO
strongly represented the difficulties and the perils of
a winter march, that Edward was obliged to yield to
their objections, and to allow the garrison of Stirling
to capitulate.
Early in the year 1300 the king again met his
parliament in Westminster. A new and extensive
Statute on the Charters was here proposed and
adopted. It enacted, that the charters should be
published by the sheriffs of all counties four times
in each year. It ordained that “no prises” should
be taken within the realm, save only by the king's
takers or purveyors; and that these should be bound
to exhibit the king's warrant, and to pay or make
agreement with those from whom the things were
taken. It also made other good and desirable regu-
lations, all tending to give greater security to property,
against violence or illegal conduct on the part of men
in office. In this parliament, as well as previously
in that of 1299, urgent demands were made for a
new perambulation of the forests; and the king
AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND. 279
promised to take measures for the accomplishment
of that object ; which promise he faithfully kept.
And now, as the spring advanced, the king pre-
pared for another march into Scotland ; reaching the
border, this year, at an earlier period of the summer
than on most of his former expeditions. The Scotch
had now learnt the simple and generally effectual
device, of retiring on the approach of the English
army, without offering battle. Edward besieged and
took Lochmaben Castle, and then proceeded to Caerla-
verock, on the Solway-Frith. This castle also capitu-
lated on the second day. An account of this brief
siege, in Norman-French, from the pen of an eye-
witness, is among the Cotton MSS. in the British
Museum. It is supposed by sir Harris Nicholas to
be the work of Walter of Exeter, a Franciscan friar,
who is believed to have written the history of Guy,
earl of Warwick, in 1292. The garrison, he tells, us,
threw themselves on the king's mercy. “They were
kept and guarded, till the king commanded that life
and limb should be given them ; and also ordered
that each of them should have a new garment.”
From Caerlaverock the king marched on to Gallo-
way, where the bishop of that place came to speak
of peace. It was not Edward's wont to treat with
rebels with arms in their hands; but it seems pro-
bable that he gave the bishop a safe-conduct for
John Comyn and the earl of Buchan ; inasmuch as
we find that these nobles, on the part, probably, of
the regency, had an interview with him at this period.
They rather absurdly proposed, that he should let
them have John Baliol back again, as king; and
should restore the forfeited estates on payment of
reasonable fines. Now, Baliol, when he was actually
280 AFFAIRS IN SCOTLAND.
their king, was imprisoned by them in order that they
might rule without him; and he, Baliol himself, had
recently declared, that he would never again set foot
in a land which had treated him with “so much
malice, treason, and deceit.” And they made this
proposal to a sovereign to whom they had taken,
more than once, oaths of allegiance; and whose army
they feared, at that very time, to meet in the open
field. And upon what pretence, on what rational
ground, could they make such an application ? It
was but some three or four years before, that all the
nobles and gentry of Scotland had thronged around
Edward, to offer him their homage as king of Scot-
land. And what had he done, since 1296, to forfeit
their allegiance? Had his rule been tyrannical ?
Let the Scottish historians bear witness. “His con-
duct,” says lord Hailes, “in all things bore the sem-
blance of moderation.” “The measures he adopted,”
says Mr. Tytler, “were equally politic and just. No
wanton or unnecessary act of rigour was committed;
no capricious changes introduced”.” On the whole,
this singular request, preferred to a victorious general
at the head of his army, that he would quietly re-
linquish all the fruits of his victories, seems one of the
most irrational of the measures of the Scottish leaders.
The king naturally parted from Comyn and the
earl in anger, and marched to Irvine, where he
waited for the arrival of his supplies by sea. The
Scottish army shewed itself on the opposite side of
the river; but on preparations being made for an
attack, it fled to the mountains and morasses. The
king then fixed his head-quarters at Dumfries, and
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., pp. 121−122.
PAPAL INTERFERENCE. 281
employed himself in taking possession of the towns
and castles of Galloway, and receiving the submission
of the inhabitants of that district.
But now a fresh obstacle arose to an immediate
settlement of the affairs of Scotland. The regents,
as they were called,—Comyn, Soulis, and the bishop
of St. Andrew’s, had, as we have already remarked,
taken measures to solicit the interposition both of the
king of France and of the pope. Walsingham, him-
Self a Benedictine monk of St. Alban's, writes, that
“about the beginning of this year, 1300, the Scotch,
Ånowing all things to be saleable at Rome, sent over
rich presents to the pope,” praying him to interfere
in their behalf, and to stop the king of England in
his proceedings against them. Such applications
were generally successful at Rome, especially when,
—as in the present instance,—they gave the papal
court an opportunity for the assertion of some new
claim. A mandate was, therefore, sent over to
England, and consigned to the care of Winchelsey
the primate, who was charged with its delivery to the
king in person ; which mandate desired the king to
abstain from all further proceedings against the realm
of Scotland; which realm, said pope Boniface,—
“ did, and doth still, belong in full right to the church
of Rome.” Such a pretension, now for the first time
advanced, might, and doubtless did, appear to all
parties to savor of audacity: but Boniface well knew
that he might advance it without fear. He had been,
and still was, the umpire between Edward and Philip.
The questions placed before him had not been
finally decided, and Gascony was not yet actually
restored. Hence, he knew full well, that however
indignant Edward might feel, his practical Sagacity
282 PAPAL INTERFERENCE.
would prevent him from actually defying the Roman
see. For a certain “consideration,” the pope had
promised to do the Scotch a certain service, and
that compact he thus observed, caring little about
the validity of the pleas advanced, which were only
intended to serve the purposes of the hour.
In Winchelsey the pope found a prompt and
willing agent. This able and artful prelate was
always forward in any scheme for exalting the power
of the church, and reducing that of the crown. He
therefore very naturally undertook the commission
assigned to him with evident pleasure; and his letter to
the pope, recounting his zealous labors, in obedience
to the papal instructions, is a most edifying docu-
ment. He writes to Boniface, that, immediately on
receiving his mandate, he prepared his baggage and
carriages, and money for his expenses, and set forth
to deliver the pontifical mandate to his lord the king,
who was then twenty days’ journey from the place
where he, Winchelsey, received the papal instructions.
He then recounts the difficulties of the journey, and
finally states, that he arrived in the presence of the
king, who was then in the midst of his army, and at
dinner. The king, he adds, was too much occupied
with business to receive him that day, but appointed
him an audience on the next day at noon.
Winchelsey, in proceeding to give an account of
this audience, omits one characteristic incident which
is related by Walsingham. The archbishop, on being
introduced to the king, according to his appointment,
first read, and presented, the papal mandate. But to
manifest his zeal still further, he proceeded to give
the king, in addition, some admonitions of his own,
garnished with certain flowers of ecclesiastical rhe-
PAPAL INTERFERENCE. 283
toric, which, to a clear-sighted and plain-spoken man
like Edward, must have been peculiarly nauseous.
He counselled the king to yield a prompt and entire
obedience to the commands of the Holy Father, inas-
much as “Jerusalem would not fail to protect her
citizens, and to cherish, like Mount Zion, those who
trusted in the Lord.” To which Edward replied, with
evident disdain, that “neither ‘Mount Zion' nor
* Jerusalem should prevent him from maintaining
what all the world knew to be his right.” At the
same time, having regard to the peculiar nature of the
application, and to the dignity of the pontiff, he first
desired the archbishop to retire while he consulted
his nobles, and then, recalling him, gave him, by the
lips of his chancellor, a more formal reply :—“That,
since it is the custom of England, that in such matters
as relate to the state of that kingdom, advice should
be had with all whom they may concern ; and since
the present business not only affects the state of
Scotland, but the rights of England also ; and since
many prelates, barons, and other principal men are
now absent; it is my purpose, as soon as possible, to
hold a council with my nobility, and by their joint
advice and determination, to transmit an answer to
his holiness by messengers of my own.”
The archbishop, in his report to the pope, is glad
to be able to add some tokens of the success of his
mission. He says, “I afterward heard that my lord
the king, within four days after my departure, return-
ed with his army into England; and his forces being
dispersed, he purposes to stay at a certain abbey
called Holme Cultram, on the border. And thus have
I reverently executed your commission in every re-
spect, with all the diligence that I was able to use.”
284 PAPAL INTERFERENCE.
We have already stated, that from the peculiar
position of his affairs, it would have been most unde-
sirable for Edward to have any positive quarrel with
Boniface at this moment. The negotiations for peace,
which had been carried on for two or three years
past, were still unconcluded. Treaties had been
signed ; but other treaties were still under discus-
sion. The decision of many important points was
still in Boniface's hands. Hence, to have dealt
with the question in a prompt and peremptory
manner, might have driven the pope into Philip's
hands, and have thrown many important questions
into the greatest confusion. Edward, therefore,
could only deal with the new papal claim in a re-
spectful and temperate manner. He restored the
bishop of Glasgow to his see, on his taking a new
oath of fealty to him and his successors, kings of
England. He complied with a request of Philip's,
and granted the Scots a new truce, until the Whit-
suntide of 1301; and he issued writs, summoning a
parliament to meet at Lincoln on the 20th of January
of that year. Before that parliament he proposed to
lay the letter or monition of Boniface; and to that
parliament he also desired reports to be brought by
the commissioners appointed to inquire into the
boundaries of the forests. He also sent letters to the
two universities, and to the principal religious houses,
desiring them to send to Lincoln some of their most
learned men, with copies of any archives or other
records which might be in their possession, bearing
upon the questions agitated in the papal mandate.
Having thus taken every proper and expedient
measure for meeting this new attack upon his position,
the king retired to Northampton, where he spent the
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN 285
Christmas of 1300, surrounded by his queen and
family; proposing early in the new year to remove to
Lincoln; there to discuss and settle, if possible, both
the affairs of Scotland, and also that more domestic
Question,--which had latterly assumed an almost
threatening aspect, “the perambulation of the royal
forests.” -
The parliament of Lincoln, A.D. 1301, deserves a
high place among the notable events of English
history. In it we find the parliamentary system
firmly established, in nearly all its present dimensions,
features, and characters. To its principal Act, the
reply to pope Boniface,—we find appended the names
and Seals of no fewer than one hundred and four earls
and barons; and as the prelates, and the Scottish
barons, were, for obvious reasons, excused from taking
part in this proceeding, we may safely estimate the
attendance of the higher orders, or, what we now term
“the house of lords,” at more than one hundred and
fifty. To this parliament, also, there were summoned
representatives from one hundred and thirty-seven
cities and boroughs. Probably, in the existing state
of society, these merchants and traders”, in the presence
of the great barons of the realm, were generally
modest and silent; but we cannot imagine So large a
body of Englishmen,_many of them independent in
property and positiont, executing a public trust in
a spirit of absolute subjection and passiveness.
+ Samuel Stanham, a merchant and grocer in Lincoln, was
one of the representatives of that city in this parliament of 1801.
# The city of London, about this time, allowed its four repre-
sentatives, for their joint expenses, out of the city cash, twenty
shillings per diem; which would be equal to fifteen pounds daily,
at the present time.
286 PARLIAMENT OF LINGOLN.
Lincoln, the scene of this great gathering, must
have presented a lively and singular spectacle in the
months of January and February 1301. The royal
court itself would have created a throng in any city
of the second class. But the splendid trains which
always attended the great barons and prelates must
have far exceeded, in the aggregate, the officers and
attendants on the court. And when to all these Were
added some two or three hundred borough-represen-
tatives, all requiring both lodging and provisions, We
may feel sure that this city of the fens must have been
the scene of a turmoil, bustle, and commotion, which
none of its inhabitants were likely ever to forget.
Langtoft tells us, that—
“At the park afterwards his parliament set he,
The good king Edward, at Lincoln his citie:
At St. Katherine's house the earl marshal lay;
In the Broadgate lay the Bruce, erle was he that day;
The king lay at Nettleham; it is the bishop's towne :
And otherlords there came, in the countrie up and downe.”
It probably would not be easy to ascertain how the
victualling of all these hundreds, or rather, thousands,
was accomplished; or in what way it became an affair
of state. But the existing records shew, not only
that great provision was made beforehand ; but that
these matters were thought of by the king himself.
From Dumfries, in the previous October, the king, so
soon as he had determined on holding this parliament,
sent writs to the sheriff of Lincolnshire, enjoining him
many weeks beforehand, to provide, for the intended
meeting, four hundred quarters of corn, four hundred
quarters of barley, one thousand quarters of oats, and
hay for four hundred horses for a month. The sheriff
was also to provide one hundred cows and oxen; one
PARLIAMENT OF LIN COLN. 287
hundred pigs; and three hundred sheep. And all
this was, distinctly, for the parliament; while for the
royal household a separate order was given, of four
hundred quarters of corn, one hundred beeves, sixty
pigs, and four hundred sheep. The king was probably
able to procure the provender for his stables, by
orders addressed to some of his own tenantry.
As the time of meeting drew near, other necessary
matters were thought of. A writ, dated Worksop,
December 2, 1300, enjoins the sheriff to procure sixty
dozens of good parchment, for records of the matters
to be agreed upon. Other orders of the same kind
follow. Samuel Stanham, who was himself a repre-
sentative of the city of Lincoln, in this parliament,
had, at its close, a demand against the king's trea-
surer for 96/. 14s. 5d. for sugars, figs, &c.; and
for 54!. 10s. for fish. He also claims 64. 16s. for
herrings and stock-fish supplied to prince Edward,
then scarcely seventeen years of age. Multiplying
these sums by fifteen, for the altered value of money,
we shall perceive that they imply a liberal expendi-
ture in the royal establishments.
The parliament being opened in the accustomed
form, it appears that the two earls obtained precedence
for their favorite questions,—the perambulations and
the disafforesting. These topics, urged by the con-
stable and the marshal,—Winchelsey being their
prompter and secret adviser, led to prolonged and
vehement debates. As these discussions form part
of the great disafforesting controversy, we shall pass
them over for the present, only observing that Ed-
ward’s skill, firmness, and moderation were taxed to
the utmost on this occasion. He succeeded, however,
after many days of fierce debate, in calming the
288 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN.
troubled waters, and bringing the parliament to a
practical result. What were termed “the reports of
the commissioners of perambulation ” were adopted,
and orders for extensive disafforesting were given.
Thus pacified, the barons consented to a grant of a
fifteenth, to be paid by the feast of St. Michael next
ensuing.
And now, these internal dissensions being for a
time set at rest, the parliament took up the question
of pope Boniface’s letter. Upon its audacious and
baseless claims, there seems to have been no difference
of opinion. Edward's law-officers, aided by all the
documentary evidence that could be discovered, had,
there can be no doubt, prepared a complete answer
to the papal assumptions; but it was prudently
Suggested, that in the king's present circumstances,
it was not desirable that he should appear as a
personal rejector and oppugner of the pontiff’s pre-
tensions. Hence, doubtless, arose the idea of the plan
which was finally adopted. The whole array of the
barons of England stepped between the pope and
their king; and told the pontiff, that he had asked
more than his right; and that they could not permit
their sovereign, even were he so inclined,—to sur-
render the rights or the dignity of the crown of
England. In this important document, after first
denying the historical statements of the papal rescript,
and wholly repudiating the idea, that the kingdom of
Scotland had ever, in any way or manner, belonged to
the see of Rome, they go on to deal with the ques-
tion, whether the king of England shall or may
appear before the papal tribunal, to defend his right,
or in any way to acknowledge the pope as an arbiter
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 289
or judge in this matter. On this point, the hundred
and four barons thus express themselves:—
“By a custom which has always been inviolably
observed, a privilege arising from the pre-eminence of
the regal dignity, the kings of England have never
pleaded, or been bound to plead, respecting their
rights in the fore-mentioned kingdom, or any other
their temporal rights, before any judge, ecclesiastical
or Secular. Wherefore, after discussion and delibera-
tion respecting the contents of your letters, it was our
Common and unanimous resolve, and by the grace of
God shall for the future remain such, that with respect
to the rights of his kingdom of Scotland, or other his
temporal rights, our aforesaid lord the king shall not
plead before you, nor submit in any manner to your
judgment; nor suffer his foresaid right to be brought
into question by any inquiry; nor send agents or
procurators for that purpose into your presence. For
such proceedings would be to the manifest disherison
of the rights of the crown of England and the royal
dignity, the evident subversion of the state of the
kingdom, and the prejudice of the liberties, customs,
and laws, which we have inherited from our fathers,
—to the observance and defence of which we are
bound by our oaths; and which we will maintain to
the best of our power; and by the help of God will
defend with all our might. Neither do we, nor will
we, permit, as we neither can nor ought, our afore-
said lord the king to do, or attempt to do, even if he
wished it, the things before mentioned; things so
unwarranted by custom or obligation, so prejudicial,
and otherwise so unheard ofº.”
+ Rymer's Foºdera, vol. ii., p. 927.
U
290 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN.
This was the substantial reply given to pope Boni-
face; and it was a fitting and worthy reply. That
it was counselled and framed by the king's ministers
cannot be doubted; and we see in it a fresh proof
of that remarkable feature in Edward’s character,-
his desire, at every step, to act in concert with his
people; to move with them in every important step
which required to be taken. But to this, the sub-
stantial reply,–Edward thought it wise and expedient
to add a private and friendly letter of his own. He
sent this second communication, as he expressly says,
“not in the form or shape of a judicial pleading,
but as an entirely unofficial communication from one
equal to another. Its object, both professedly and
really, was to obviate any possible ground of com-
plaint or aggrieved feeling. In this letter, the king
touched upon the chief points in the history of the
two countries;–shewing, that a Superiority had
existed, and that homage had been paid, from kings
of Scotland to kings of England for centuries past :
and he ended thus:–“AS, from the above-named
consideration, it is plain and notorious that the said
kingdom of Scotland belongs to us, in full right, and
as we have never done anything which could in any
way derogate from our rights over the same, we
humbly entreat your holiness, that you, weighing the
arguments above-stated, will deign to decide upon
them according to the promptings of your own mind;
in no way giving credit to the contrary suggestions of
those who are jealous of us in this respect; but pre-
serving and approving of our state and our royal
rights, if it so please your paternal affection.”
- The practical result, then, of the whole was, that
Edward, firmly rejecting the papal claim, refused even
2 3
IPARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN. 291
to send commissioners for the purposes of discussing
it. He was a sincerely religious man, according to
the obscured christianity of his day; and he probably
had never heard the pope's claim to an universal
primacy So much as questioned. But his own power-
ful and Sagacious mind often enabled him to detect
the unwarrantable pretensions of the ecclesiastics of
all degrees; and when “he felt himself to be in the
right,”—as he told Winchelsey at Salisbury, he was
“ready to go to the death,” in defence of his position.
Having thus parried and averted the blow aimed
through the papal power, the king, that Summer,
mustered his forces and entered Scotland. But the
unsettled state of his affairs, and the negotiations
still pending with France and with Rome, seem to
have distracted his attention, and weakened his efforts.
He captured one or two strong places; but the Scotch
still adhered to their former system, of retiring at his
approach, and laying waste everything before him.
An early winter set in, and cut short the campaign;
and the king resolved to fix his residence for the
winter at Linlithgow, so as to be ready to commence
an early campaign in 1302. But this plan was
defeated by an absurd concession made by his agents
in France. In prolonging the truce with Philip until
November 30, 1302, they weakly permitted the French
ministers to claim the inclusion of the Scotch in this
cessation of arms Thus one whole year more was
lost to Edward in his Scottish operations,—a loss
which, at his time of life, was of great and permanent
importance. The final and entire reduction of Scot-
land was thus once more postponed until 1303–1304;
when, as we shall see in the next chapter, it was
triumphantly effected.
U 3
292 PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN.
In the course of the year 1302, we observe the
meeting of three parliaments. The first was held in
London, in March, and of it we have few particulars;
another was held in July; and in September and
October a third was held in London, at which there
attended Seventeen prelates and forty-four abbots;
nine earls, and eighty-two barons; two knights from
each shire, and two citizens or burgesses from each
city or borough ; with full power to do “quod tune
de communi consilio ordinabitur.”
CHAPTER THE TWELFTEI.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.—EXECUTION OF
WALLAGE.-SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND.
A.D. 1303–1305.
SoME historians, in recounting the events of
Edward’s reign, have spoken of three, or even of
four conquests of Scotland. But, strictly speaking,
the term can only be applied to his first march
through the kingdom, in 1296; and his last great
expedition, in 1303-4. On both of these occasions,
the land was thoroughly possessed and quieted ; and
when Edward returned to England, he left not behind
him, in all Scotland, in the open field, one declared
foe. Our present chapter will be given to the de-
Scription of the Second of these progresses.
In the spring of the year 1303, it began to be
apparent, that both the pope and the king of France,
having no real care or concern for the Scots, would
at last withdraw that support which they had hitherto
given to the discontented in that country. Philip
was anxious to be at liberty to devote his whole
attention to the affairs of Flanders; and he readily
agreed to a treaty which was made in the course of
this spring, by which Edward was restored to the
possession of Gascony, without any proviso or stipu-
lation on behalf of the Scotch. No such treaty was
required in the case of the pope. Boniface had
294 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
already done all that he had promised or intended to
do in behalf of that people. He had interfered in
their favor, and had gained them a respite of one or
two years;–but permanently to quarrel with such a
prince as Edward, in favor of a poor and distant
nation like Scotland, was altogether foreign to his
interest, as well as to his inclination.
The pope, then, having manifested his views, by
addressing a letter to the Scotch bishops, enjoining
On them a peaceful and dutiful demeanour towards
the king of England; and the treaty with Philip
having been fully agreed upon, Edward felt himself,
at last, at liberty to turn his undivided attention to
the affairs of Scotland; and, with his wonted decision
of character, he resolved to bring all questions, in
that country, to a termination, by one sufficient and
Well-considered effort. On the 20th of January he
wrote from his castle at Guildford, to more than
twenty of his chief barons, desiring them to proceed,
with their whole power, to the aid of John de Segrave,
the governor of Scotland, who was about to march
from Berwick to Edinburgh, and whom he, the king,
intended shortly to join.
Before Edward, however, could reach Scotland,
Segrave, like earl Warrenne at Stirling, had allowed
himself, by carelessness and over-confidence, to be
surprised and defeated. He had commenced his
march towards Edinburgh with a force of about
20,000 men. But these he had formed into three
divisions ; and these divisions marched on at a con-
siderable distance from each other, and without keep-
ing up any proper communication. Comyn, one of
the so-called “regents,” and Sir Simon Fraser, lay
between Segrave's force and Edinburgh, with about
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 295
8,000 men. They doubtless had good intelligence
of Segrave's movements, and of the disposition of his
forces. Very naturally, and very judiciously, they
made a night-march, and took the first division of
Segrave's force by surprise, at the dawn of day ;
routing and dispersing it, and taking many prisoners.
Shortly afterwards the second division came in sight,
and the Scotch, still superior in numbers, and exulting
in Success, attacked and defeated it also. The third
division, under sir Robert Neville, had met with the
fugitives from the first two engagements, and Were
thus warned in time; and they repulsed the Scotch,
and recovered some of the prisoners”. Still, on the
whole, “the battle of Roslyn” was a serious defeat
for the English, and hastened Edward's journey into
Scotland, which he reached soon after Easter.
In this engagement at Roslyn, one of the king's
officers, called “Ralph the Cofferer,” was taken
prisoner by sir Simon Fraser. He offered a large
ransom; but Fraser himself “first struck off the
hands of the unhappy priest, and then severed his
head from his bodyf.”
This same Fraser afterwards craved Edward's
mercy, and received it, on condition of leaving the
country. This promise, like almost every other en-
* The Scottish historians, who wrote a century after, claim the
victory in all three engagements; but Hemingford and Trivet,
who wrote at the time, distinctly declare that Neville repulsed the
Scotch, and recovered many of the prisoners. Hume and Tytler,
as Scotchmen, give credit to their own chroniclers; and yet they
are uncandid enough to profess to take their accounts from
Hemingford and Trivet. But these latter writers, who are the
only contemporary witnesses, plainly assert, that the advantage,
in the third engagement, rested with the English.
f Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 186.
296 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
gagement made at that time by Scotchmen, Was
unblushingly violated, and Fraser was again found in
arms against that sovereign who had already granted
him his life. He was taken and executed as a traitor,
and his execution is one of those which are said
to “brand Edward's memory with the charge of
cruelty.” The position, in fact, which is taken by
most Scottish writers, seems to be this; that these
men, because they were in arms for “independence,”
were entitled to commit any atrocity that they pleased;
but that, when the fortune of war went against
them, it was Edward’s duty to grant them, at least,
a free pardon, and, in Some cases, a reward
The momentary advantage gained by the Scotch
at Roslyn had no influence on the fate of the
campaign. Edward arrived in Scotland soon after
Easter, having summoned his military tenants to
meet him at Roxburgh by Whitsuntide. He then
passed on to Edinburgh, “without challenge or inter-
ruption,” in the early part of June. He himself
marched up the eastern side of the kingdom, having
given his son the command of a division which pro-
ceeded along the western coast. Having been warned,
by the experience of the last four years, of the diffi-
culties created by the devastating system, the king
had now made ample provision, and his fleets accom-
panied his march with abundant supplies. From
Edinburgh he proceeded, by Linlithgow and Clack-
mannan, to Perth. But this march involved the
passage of the Forth, the attempt to pass which
river had occasioned earl Warrenne’s defeat at Stir-
ling. Lord Hailes and Mr. Tytler differ as to
Edward's plans. Hailes says, “The Scotch fondly
imagined that Edward would attempt to force the
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 297
passage" of the narrow bridge, as Cressingham had
done. “But the prudence of Edward frustrated their
expectations. Having discovered a ford at some dis-
tance, he crossed the river at the head of his whole
cavalry”.” This ford, it will be remembered, had
been mentioned to earl Warrenne in 1297, by sir
Richard Lundin. Mr. Tytler, however, thinks that
“Edward did intend to pass the river by the bridge;
which, on his arrival, he found had been destroyed
by the Scots.” He observes that, “had the leaders
profited by the lesson taught them by Wallace, they
would have kept up the bridge, and attacked the Eng-
lish when defiling over it.”
A singular notion Mr. Tytler must have had, of
the sagacity of a commander of whose military skill
he often speaks with admiration, to suppose it pos-
sible that he could have repeated the insane blunder
of Cressingham and Warrenne, with the lamentable
results of which he was so well acquainted. It is
true, indeed, that Edward, prepared for all contingen-
cies, would have passed the river by a bridge, if the
fords had been found impracticable. Peter Langtoft
explains the whole transaction:—
“Counsel he had of one, a bridge he should wrihte (erect),
Boats and barges ilkon, with flukes to make them tighte,
. The Scottish sea to pass, if that he had neede;
That passage never was, he rode over on his steede.
The Scots they saw him coming, and fleeand fast they did,
Moors and mountains over, away they drive for dread.”
This plan of a pontoon-bridge was not new to the
king. The strong rings and bolts by which he pro-
posed to make fast a bridge over the Menai-strait,
* Hailes' Annals, vol. i., p. 304. i Tytler, vol. i., p. 191.
298 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
twenty years before this period, are even now to be
traced on the banks of that water*. He, doubtless,
therefore, was prepared to take a similar course now,
if it should be needful; but he could scarcely have
been left in ignorance of sir Richard Lundin’s
suggestion. And a ford having been pointed out,
“ the king,” says Mr. Tytler, “forded the river in per-
son, at the head of his cavalry, and routed or dis-
persed the last remnant of a Scottish army.” Lang-
toft's description, however, is the more picturesque
of the two ; it was written at the time, and it
corresponds exactly with the flight, admitted on all
hands,-of the Scottish cavalry at Falkirk. To re-
peat his words:—
“The Scots they saw him coming, and fleeand fast they did,
Moors and mountains over, away they drive for dread.”
This was the last attempt at opposition in the open
field. From Perth the king proceeded to Dundee
and Brechin and Aberdeen. The castle of Brechin
delayed him three weeks. It was naturally strong,
and it had a stout commander, Sir Thomas Maule.
But he was struck down by a stone from one of the
king's engines; and on his death the garrison at
once capitulated.
From Aberdeen Edward marched on to Kinloss
in Moray. Some English writers of the time assert
him to have even reached Caithness. He may have
embarked in some vessel of his fleet, and in that may
have visited the coast ; but lord Hailes' remark
seems a rational one, that in those days the country
to the north of Rosshire was of small account, and it
* Archaolog. Journal, No. 27.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 299
Seems improbable that the king should have carried
an army into those remote districts. But having thus
traversed the land, and found no enemy to abide the
push of lance, Edward returned, in the autumn, to
Dumfermline, where he took up his quarters for the
winter. The Scots were now pretty generally satis-
fied of the hopelessness of any further resistance.
Wallace, indeed, was somewhere hidden; but we hear
nothing of a single valorous deed done by him ; and
none of the Scotch appear to have expected anything
from his sword. The barons and other proprietors
were now rapidly making their submissions, and
being “received to the king's grace;” and in the
course of his residence at Dumfermline, this pacifica-
tion became almost universal. Peter Langtoft Says,
“The towns, and the counties, and the people all aboute,
To the king fell on knees, his power did them loute.
Unto his peace they yield; fealty to him did sweare;
Truly with him to hold; no arms against him beare.”
Matthew of Westminster says, -“The nobles of
Scotland, their error having met with stern defeat,
submitted themselves to the will of the king of Eng-
land, and he admitted them to his favor, treating them
with great mercy, inflicting merely certain fines, and
allowing them time for payment.”
Christmas arrived, and Edward, as his manner
was, gathered his family round him. Langtoft says,
“To Dumfermline he went ; for rest will he there :
For the queen he sent, and she did dight her chare: (cheerfully.)
From Cawood she glent (passed) to Dumfermline to fare.”
Two or three of the rebel leaders, besides Wallace,
300 SEGOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
still held out, but they were now reduced to great
extremities, Langtoft says,
“The lord of Badenoch, Fraser, and Waleis,
Lived at theeves' law, and robband always.
They had no sustenance, the war to maintaine;
But skulked upon chance, and robbed all betwene.”
The few nobles, however, who yet stood out, could
not allow themselves to sink to the level to which
Wallace had fallen. They saw the necessity for at
once, and wholly, closing this great struggle. Ac-
cordingly, on the 9th of February, 1304, “the earls
of Pembroke and Ulster, with sir Henry Percy,
met Comyn at Strathorde in Fife, and a negotiation
took place, in which the late regent and his followers,
after stipulating for the preservation of their lives,
liberties, and lands, delivered themselves up, and
agreed to the infliction of any pecuniary fine which
the conqueror should think right. The castles and
the strengths of Scotland were to remain in the hands
of Edward, and the government was to be adminis-
tered at his pleasure”.”
Those who thus made their peace with the king,
saving both their lives and their estates, probably
performed their part, of entire submission, honestly.
But there was a single instance of obstinate resistance,
which, in its result, places in a strong light Edward’s
patient forbearance and his clemency: and yet, like
many other great actions of his life, it is perverted
by Some writers into a proof of his want of gener-
osity.
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 191.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 301
The treaty made by Comyn and his coadjutors was
the final submission of that which assumed to be the
Scottish government. Peace was to be restored; and
the castles and all the powers of government were
in future to be Edward's. It followed of necessity,
that any one who chose, after this, to maintain war
against the king, took the position of a rebel. This
has been an admitted law, in all nations, and in all
times. We can easily call to mind the period, when
it was suspected that Soult had fought the battle of
Toulouse, after receiving the intelligence of Napoleon's
abdication; and when it was generally felt, that if
such were really the case, hanging would be his
fate, or, at least, his desert. And, unquestionably,
after Napoleon’s departure, and the establishment of
Louis XVIII., any one of Napoleon’s commanders
who had chosen to hold a fortress against the king,
would have found the punishment of a rebel awaiting
him.
But in Scotland, although the late regent and his
coadjutors had agreed to deliver up the castles to the
king, there was one commander who resolutely refused
so to give up his charge.
The castle of Stirling, during one of Edward's
absences in England, had been invested by the
Scotch, as we saw a few pages back, and starved into
a surrender. The regents had garrisoned it with
three hundred men, and had placed it under the com-
mand of sir William Oliphant.
By the treaty recently made, this castle became
Edward's, and any man holding it against him was
as justly liable to suffer the death of a rebel, as if he
had held against the king the Tower of London. In
$02 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
fact, all men who continued a fruitless resistance, had
been formally declared outlaws in a Scottish parlia-
ment held at St. Andrew’s”.
Yet Oliphant refused to submit. He at first tried
the device of asking for time to send to sir John
Soulis, one of the late regents, who had fled to France.
But the castle was not Soulis's, nor had Oliphant
received charge of it from Soulis in his private
capacity, but as one of the regents; and the regents
and all the lords of Scotland had now abandoned their
resistance. This transparent device, therefore, could
not deceive Edward, who indignantly exclaimed,
“Am I to wait for his pleasure ?—No; if you will
not surrender the castle, defend it if you will, and
abide the consequences.”
There surely cannot be the smallest question, that
if Edward, with the treaty in his hand which promised
him quiet possession of all the castles of Scotland,
and with the act of parliament of St. Andrew's before
him, had given the garrison of Stirling notice, that
unless the castle was surrendered within three days
he would hang every one of them as rebels, he would
have been fully justified. Yet, instead of this, he
patiently submitted to the toils and perils of a long
siege, in which many of his men were killed, and in
which his own life was repeatedly endangered.
The castle was exceedingly strong, and the batter-
ing artillery of modern days was entirely unknown.
It is probable that Oliphant, confident in the natural
strength of the place, hoped that he might weary out
Edward and his army, and so win for himself a
lasting fame. “The siege,” says Mr. Tytler, “ had
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 192.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 303
continued from the 22nd of April to the 20th of May,
without much impression having been made. But
determination was a marked feature in the powerful
character of the king. He wrote to the sheriffs of
York, Lincoln, and London, commanding them to
purchase and send instantly to him, at Stirling, all
the balista, quarrells, and bows and arrows, which
they could collect; and to the governor of the Tower,
requiring a similar supply”.”
Two months more elapsed before these engines
could be collected and brought to bear upon the
castle. Meanwhile the king exposed himself in
the siege as freely as any of his men. On one
occasion a javelin struck him on the breast, and
lodged itself between the steel-plates of his armour.
The king plucked it out, and shaking it in the air,
called out to the besieged, that he would hang the
man who had aimed it. On another day, a great
stone, discharged from one of the engines in the
castle, struck his horse such a blow, that he backed
and fell. His soldiers rushed forward, and carried
the king off-crying out against his rashness; to
which he only replied, “We have undertaken a just
war in the name of the Lord, and we will not fear
what man can do unto usf.”
At last, in July, a considerable breach was
effected, and the ditch was nearly filled up with the
rubbish and faggots thrown into it. A general
assault would now have carried the castle ; but,
seeing their imminent peril, the besieged sent to beg
for terms of surrender. They asked for “security of
life and limb,”—a request which the king would,
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 196. # Matthew of Westminster, 1304.
304 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
doubtless, have granted readily, if preferred at the
beginning of the siege, instead of at the end of it.
But it was now too late. They had forfeited their
lives, by all the military laws that ever were known.
They had been making war for three months past, not
in behalf of the king of Scotland, for there was no
king except Edward; nor yet in behalf of the regency
of Scotland, for the regents had submitted, and made
their peace with the king. They had made war with
a king, simply to gratify their own feelings of
animosity; in a word, they were rebels, taken in the
act. Hence Edward's stern reply was a just and
proper one :—“I will not receive you to my grace,
but only to my will.”
“Sir John de Mowbray and sir Eustace le Poor
accordingly proceeded to the castle-gate, and sum-
moned the governor. Oliphant, with his kinsman
Dupplin and a squire, met the English knights, and
proceeded with them to an interview with the earls of
Gloucester and Ulster. At this meeting they con-
sented, for themselves and their companions, to sur-
render unconditionally to the king of England; and
they earnestly requested that he would permit them
to make this surrender in his own presence, and
Would himself witness their contrition”.”
It is quite evident that, like David of Snowdon,
who, in 1283, prayed to be allowed to see the king,
they understood Edward’s character; and that their
best or only hope lay in the real kindness of his
heart. They came, accordingly, before the king, in
the attitude and garb of criminals. Doubtless, if in
the present century, such an act had been done, the
doers of it, either by martial or criminal law, would
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 197.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 305
have been declared rebels, and would have been con-
demned to die. They said, “My lord, we submit our-
Selves to your will.” The king answered, “My will
is to hang you all; and if you dislike that, you may
return to the castle.” But they still had faith in his
mercy ; and they persisted in leaving themselves
wholly at his disposal; kneeling before him in the
attitude of criminals. At last, after a pause, “the
king being moved, turned away his face for a time ;
and those who stood round broke into tears. He then
ordered them to be sent to certain English castles,
adding, “Do not chain them.*.” Not a man suffered
any punishment beyond a temporary confinement;
except one Englishman, who had aided the Scots in
getting possession of the castle. He, dragged forth
and hanged, died for his treason.
Yet Edward's noble acknowledgment of their
soldierly bearing, even in a cause in itself wholly un-
justifiable, which was implied in his orders to put no
fetters on them, is thus ungraciously noticed by lord
Hailes:—“This was the only hope of pardon in-
dulged to men whose valour would have been revered
by a more generous conqueror.”
Why, such a conqueror as Wallace, of whom the
Scots are so proud, would have butchered every man
upon the spot | This, indeed, as his own eulogists
admit, was his constant practice. A monarch of the
ordinary kind, after having been put to so much
trouble and loss by a defence which was wholly con-
trary to the law of nations, would have hanged up the
commander, as the chief offender, and have thrown
the rest of the garrison into a dungeon. The third
Edward, provoked by the long but wholly justifiable
* Matthew of Westminster, 1304.
;x: ... ::: $; ::
306 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
defence of Calais, actually ordered six of its defenders
to execution; only recalling that order at the earnest
entreaty of his queen. But the king now before us,
after seeing many of his men killed before his eyes,
and after having had his own life twice attempted, in
a warfare which he knew to be wholly unjustifiable,
still so far honors soldierly firmness and tenacity,
that he spares all their lives, and commands that no
fetters shall be put upon them. And yet, after this,
he is reproached as “ungenerous !” Such is the
sort of justice which this great king commonly re-
ceives at the hands of Scotchmen.
Scotland was now once more quieted and at rest.
The entire surrender made by Baliol in 1296, to a
superior lord who justly claimed a fief forfeited by
rebellion, had now been a second time confirmed by
the voluntary homage and oath of fealty of every
baron, knight, or landed proprietor in Scotland.
There remained but one man still contumacious,
the once terrible, but now despised William Wallace.
And he, at last, wearied of the vagrant, outlaw life of
the last six years, “prayed his friends that they
would beseech Edward that he might yield himself on
terms”.” &
The rebel leader, as we have already observed,
was, for some reason or other, entirely deserted by
the whole Scottish nation. We have already cited
Mr. Tytler's admission,-that during all the years
which elapsed between his defeat at Falkirk in 1298,
and his apprehension in 1305, “his name does not
occur as bearing even a secondary command in the
wars against Edward.” Sir James Mackintosh en-
* Langtoft.
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 307
deavours to account for this, by saying that “the
jealousy of the nobles, or the unpopularity of a signal
reverse, hide Wallace from our search for several
years.” But “the jealousy of the nobles” had not
hindered Wallace from gathering an army in 1297,
and another in 1298; nor did “the unpopularity of
‘several’ signal reverses,” in 1306, prevent Bruce
from bringing fresh forces into the field in 1307.
How it happened that, after 1298, not even a score of
“men of desperate fortunes” could be got to follow
Wallace, must remain a mystery. One suspicion has
occurred to us, grounded upon the known facts, of
his delight in cruelty, a trait which is seldom found
in the truly brave ; and of the absence of the
slightest record of any deed of daring, either at Stir-
ling or at Falkirk. These two facts seem to point to
the conclusion,-that Wallace was taken to be, by
his countrymen, during all these years, something
very much the reverse of “a hero.” One trifling
incident in his life is briefly mentioned as occurring
during this period. Blind Harry, in his romance,
sends Wallace to France, where Philip makes him
“Duke of Guyenne.” But the real truth of this part
of his story is briefly told us in the Chronicle of St.
Albans (Cotton MSS.), in the following terms:–
“About this time William Waleis, with five
soldiers, went to the French country, to ask aid from
the king of France. And when he had arrived at
Amiens, it was told to the king, who gave orders that
he should be apprehended. The king then wrote to
the king of England, offering to send Waleis to him.”
Apparently, however, Philip, on further consider-
ation, felt that it might not redound much to his
honor to give up a man who had voluntarily taken
X 3
308 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
refuge with him ;-and he therefore devised a middle
course, by which he might get rid of the Scotch
leader without putting him into the hands of his pur-
suers. He gave to Wallace a brief note, addressed
to his representatives at Rome, recommending the
rebel chief to their good offices, and through them
to the pope. This note, strange to say, is now pre-
served among the ancient records in the Tower of
London. A copy of it is given in the Wallace
Documents (Edinb. 1841); and it is argued by the
learned editor of that collection, that this note proves
that Wallace went to Rome, and saw the pope. But
surely it rather leads to an opposite conclusion. Had
Wallace travelled into Italy, and seen the pope, we
should probably have found some traces of him by
the way, or in Rome itself. But no such foot-marks
have ever been found. But more, had Wallace ac-
tually reached Rome, and delivered that note to
Philip's agents, how should ever it have found its
way to the Tower of London ? Obviously, the more
rational conclusion is, that the said note was a mere.
pretext on Philip's part, a device for getting rid of
Wallace ; and that the Scotch leader, having no
money, and knowing it to be useless to go to Rome
without money, took the note, put it into his pouch,
escaped back into Scotland, and was, at last, taken
with the paper in his possession. So found, the
document would naturally be sent to Edward, and
thus it would find its way into the usual receptacle
for the state-papers of the time.
At all events, Wallace soon returned from France,
and again betook himself to his forest-haunts in
Scotland. And now, seeing all Scotland once more
quietly at rest under Edward's authority, the obdu-
SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND. 309
racy of this violent man began to give way. For
more than five years he had lived the life of an out-
law, “having no sustenance” but “robbing always.”
He now approaches as near to the king as he may
Venture, still hiding in the forest, and he begs his
friends to apply to the king on his behalf. But the
application was made in a wrong spirit. Langtoft
thus describes it :—
“Turn we now other ways, unto our own geste; (affairs)
And Speke of the Walleys, that lies in the foreste;
In the forest he lendes, of Dumfermelyn :
He prayed all his frendes, and other of his kyn,
After that Yole (Christmas) they will beseke Edward;
That he might yield till him, in a forward (covenant)
That were honorable to kepe wod or beste ;
And with his scrit full stable, and seled at the lest;
To him and all his, to have in heritage;
And non otherwise, als terme, tyme and stage.”
This assuredly was one of the most audacious
demands ever made. The outlaw knew full well that
he had sinned in no ordinary manner and degree,
and that, not against Edward only, or chiefly, but
against all England. His name was heard through-
out the realm with rage and horror. Mr. Tytler
justly describes his position in a few plain Words:—
“Wallace was too well aware of the unpardonable
injuries which he had inflicted on the English ’’ to
conceive it possible for Edward to spare his life.
He stood in the same, position, or rather, in a worse
position, than the Nana Sahib has occupied recently.
And if it were reported at Calcutta, that the governor-
general had promised to the butcher of Cawnpore
his life, one universal groan of disgust Would be
heard throughout India. Equally difficult must it
310 SECOND CONQUEST OF SCOTLAND.
have been for Edward to grant the ravager of the
northern counties any kind of pardon. And it is
with wonder, therefore, that we read, in the treaty
made with Comyn in 1304, the distinct inclusion of
Wallace:—“As to William Walleys, if he thinks fit
to surrender himself, it must be unconditionally, to
the will and mercy of our lord the king”.” In
another place it is said, that “William Walleys
might put himself on the grace and mercy of the
king, if he thought propert.” Now, as to the meaning
of such language in Edward's mouth, there can be
no doubt whatever. We have just seen one instance
in the case of the garrison of Stirling; to whom he
had refused the least promise of grace or mercy. In
fact, to be allowed to surrender, was tantamount to a
grant of life at least. So, on another occasion, when
his judges reminded him that “he might shew
mercy” to a certain criminal, his exclamation was,
“May shew mercy! why I will do that for a dog
who seeks my grace l’” On the other hand, when
any one had sinned past forgiveness, like Bruce in
1306, then he was “not to be received;” and the
young prince was rebuked for holding any communi-
cation with him. As to Wallace, it is evident that the
king viewed him in the same light as he had viewed
the garrison of Stirling. He would enter into no
engagement with them :—if they chose to surrender,
it must be unconditionally, to the king's absolute
Will.
Wallace, as Mr. Tytler tells us, “was too well
aWare of the unpardonable injuries which he had in-
* “Endroit de Will. de Walleys, le Roi entent, quil soit receu
a sa volute ’t a son ordainement.” (Palgrave.)
+ Rymer's Placita, p. 370.
CAPTURE OF WALLACE. 311 "
flicted on the English” to be able to believe it possible
for the king to shew him mercy; and thus he threw
away the only chance that remained to him. His
demand, which we have just given in Langtoft's
Words,--that he should have, under the king's hand,
not only assurance of his life, but also an estate
Secured to him, and to his heirs for ever, was just the
Surest Way of raising the king's indignation. Obvi-
Ously no pretension could have been more prepos-
terous. He was an outlaw, liable to be taken and
brought to justice; he was poor and wretched; and
his offences, as he well knew, were such as it must
be difficult for the king to pardon. Yet, instead of
grasping at the single chance which was now offered
him, he must needs give the king fresh provocation.
And thus his doom was sealed. His offer was made
known to the king, and Langtoft tells us the result:—
“When they brought that tiding, Edward was fulle grim:
He belauht him the fiende; als his traitore in lond:
And ever ilkon his frende, that him susteynd or fonde.
Three hundred marke he hette unto his warison; (reward)
That with him so mette, or bring his hedde to town.
Now flies William Waleis, of pese mouht he spedis:
In moores and mareis with robberie him fedis.”
Obviously no other course could be taken. Edward
had already stretched his prerogative of mercy to an
extraordinary extent, by expressing his willingness
to “receive” the outlaw if he made an immediate and
unconditional submission. Had he so submitted and
received mercy, it cannot be doubted that such lenity
would have caused great dissatisfaction among the
English people. But Wallace had elected to take his
chance of justice, and that justice was not long in
overtaking him. As two Scottish earls had guided
312 CAPTURE OF WALLACE.
the king to his camp at Falkirk, so now a Scottish
knight Soon earned the reward offered for his appre-
hension. Sir John Menteith surprised him in bed,
bound him, and delivered him to the English au-
thorities*.
Of his reception in England we may form some
idea by figuring to ourselves how the Nana Sahib
Would be received were he conducted across India into
Calcutta, or were he brought to London. Yet this
comparison fails, for the atrocities of Nana Sahib
were altogether trivial compared with those of
Wallace. The Indian leader was stained with the
guilt of one massacre, the Scotch, with the guilt of
many. The Nana had slain his hundreds, Wallace his
thousands,-each being the slaughterer of helpless
women and children. He was carried through Eng-
land a chained prisoner to his doom. He arrived in
London on the 22nd of August, 1305, “great num-
bers of men and women,” says Stowe, “wondering
upon him.” He was not lodged in any prison, nor
was any lengthened proceeding entered into. His
chief crime, the Savage desolation of the northern
counties, was a matter of universal notoriety; nor
did he for a moment deny it. He was therefore
lodged for one night “at the house of William Dilect,
a citizen of London, in Fenchurch-street;” and “on
the morrow he was brought on horseback to West-
minster, Segrave and Geoffrey, knights, and the
mayor and sheriffs of the city, escorting him. He was
placed on a bench in Westminster Hall,” and his in-
dictment was read by sir Percy Malorie, chief jus-
* Tangtoft says,
“Sir John of Menetest followed William so nigh,
He toke him when he feared least, one night his leman by."
CAPTURE OF WALLACE. 313
tice. It charged him, not, as the Scottish historians
would represent, chiefly or solely with rebellion, or
With levying war, but with those special barbarities
which, under the name of war, he had perpetrated.
Some writers lay great stress upon the circum-
stance, which appears in only one chronicler, that the
Criminal repudiated the charge of treason,-saying,
“Traitor was I never, for I never gave my allegiance
to the king of England.” The fact may have been
So, but it is wholly immaterial. No doubt more than
half the persons who have died for treason since
Wallace’s days might have pleaded the same excuse.
It is most probable that none of the Jesuit priests
executed in Elizabeth’s days had ever sworn alle-
giance; and we may be sure that Thistlewood and
his gang, who died in 1820, had never taken any such
oath. But no one ever imagined that such a fact
made the slightest difference in their guilt.
Treason, however, or mere rebellion, would never
have brought Wallace from Scotland to Westminster
Hall. Comyn, Fraser, and scores of other distin-
guished men in Scotland, had been guilty of treason
and rebellion, and had received the king's pardon.
The great difference between their case and that of
Wallace, consisted in those “unpardonable injuries”
which, as Mr. Tytler admits, “he had inflicted on
the English,” and which Edward, as the king and
defender of the English, found it to be now his duty
to punish. And, accordingly, his indictment justly
describes him as “Willelmus Waleis, captus pro
seditione, homicidiis, depraedacionibus, incendiis, et
aliis diversis feloniis.”
And so it runs throughout. It says little of his
treason and rebellion,--it dwells more on his murders
314 EXECUTION, OF WALLACE.
and his other cruelties. It speaks of his murder of
the sheriff of Lanark, “whose body he cut in pieces,”
reminding us of the fate of Cressingham at Stirling.
Passing on to his invasion of the northern counties,
it charges, that “with certain of his accomplices, he
invaded the realm of England, and all whom he there
found, subjects of the king of England, he slew by
Various kinds of deaths;–men of religion, and monks
devoted to God, he feloniously massacred; sparing
none who spake the English tongue; but all, old men
and young, brides and widows, infants and children
at the breast, he murdered in a manner more terrible
than could have been imagined.” No denial was
given to these charges; in fact, none could be given :
“He pleaded no defence,” says Mr. Tytler, “the
facts were notorious.” His ravage of Northumber-
land and Cumberland, “leaving nothing behind him
but blood and ashes,” was as well known and as
certain a fact as the comparatively insignificant
“massacre of Cawnpore” in our own day”.
His sentence was therefore read. It was precisely
Such a sentence as would have been passed upon
any doer of the like acts in the reign of William III.,
or in that of George III. It pronounced,—
“That for the robberies, murders, and felonies,
of which he had been guilty, he should be hanged by
the neck: That, as being an outlaw, and not having
come to the king's peace, he should be cut down and
beheaded as a traitor: That, for the profanations and
sacrileges committed by him, he should be disem-
bowelled and his entrails burnt : And that as a
warning to others, his head should be affixed to
* See Appendix J.
EXECUTION OF WALLACE, 315 .
London bridge, and his quarters in the towns of
Berwick, Newcastle, Stirling, and Perth.” This judg-
ment was carried into effect immediately.
This “barbarous sentence” is exclaimed against
by most of the Scotch historians; but their protests
are strangely inconsistent and forgetful. In Edward’s
day, and for centuries afterwards, it was thought
right and necessary to visit great crimes with great
punishments. These complex sentences did not begin,
—we have already remarked,—in Edward’s day, but
long before; and they were continued for many cen-
turies afterward. In Elizabeth’s day, when Walsing-
ham and Burleigh, Jewell and Hooker, flourished,
many Jesuit priests were sentenced to the Same death
which Wallace suffered, for merely conspiring against
the queen. Later still, we find Montrose sentenced,
by a very religious government in Scotland, to nearly
the same death. And in England we find William, lord
Russell, the Christian patriot, in 1680, protesting
against the omission of the hanging and quartering
in the case of lord Stafford. In fact, the refinement
of feeling which, in our day, revolts against these
disgusting details, had no easistence in the fourteenth
century, nor for several hundred years after it ; and
to censure Edward for the cruelty of this sentence,
is as irrational as if we were to blame him for
Wearing armour, or for not using gunpowder. For
more than four hundred years after Wallace's death,
no Englishman ever dreamed that there had been
any peculiar cruelty in the mode of his execution.
One victim, then, and one only, had fallen on the
Scaffold; and even that one, had he thrown himself
on Edward’s mercy, would have been spared. But
when, especially in those hard and iron days, was
316 SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND.
so great a change effected at so small a cost 2 When
was a kingdom in insurrection restored to peace
with so little of bloodshed, or even of minor punish-
ment 2
And now, there being “neither adversary nor
evil occurrent,” the king determined once more to
attempt a thoroughly friendly and conciliatory settle-
ment of affairs in Scotland. In his usual frank and
manly way, he resolved to throw himself into the
hands of the Scotch, and to desire them to advise
him as to the best plan for the government of the
country.
He called upon Wishart, the bishop of Glasgow,
who had already been twice or thrice in arms against
him; upon Robert Bruce, who had more than once
given him cause for complaint; and upon John Mow-
bray,+to consult together, and to agree among them-
Selves as to time, place, and other arrangements, for
holding a parliament specially about the state and
affairs of Scotland; so that all things should be
settled to the full content of the whole Scottish
people. At their suggestion a parliament was held
at Perth, in which ten commissioners were appointed
to confer with the king in London upon Scottish
affairs. To these Edward added ten Englishmen,
with several of the judges. All these were sworn to
give the best advice in their power, without suffering
themselves to be biassed by friendship or interest.
The result of their deliberations was, that John of
Bretagne, the king's nephew, should be appointed
governor of Scotland, with the assistance of the
present chancellor and chamberlain: that for the
administration of justice, Scotland should be divided
into four districts, Lothian, Galloway, the country
SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLAND. 317
between the Forth and the mountains, and the high-
lands,--to each of which districts two justiciaries, an
Englishman and a Scotchman, should be appointed:
that sheriffs and escheators should be named for the
several counties: and that the laws of David king of
Scots should be read in an assembly of the people of
Scotland, for revision and amendment.
On the 16th of September, 1305, a great council
met on the affairs of Scotland, at the New Temple in
London. There were present the bishops of Glasgow
and St. Andrew’s, two Scotch earls, and several
barons; and the sitting lasted for about twenty days.
A variety of points were discussed and settled, and
at last the commissioners came before the king,
at his manor of Sheen in Surrey, and read the ordi-
nances which they had made; which he then approved
and confirmed. They then all swore upon the Holy
Gospels, “Robert Bruce,” says Mr. Tytler, “acting
a principal part,” for themselves and their heirs, and
for the whole people of Scotland, that they would
faithfully keep and observe the said ordinances.
“They then took leave of the king, and returned
home, with great appearance of joy and satisfaction.”
In a few days after this, the king issued Forma
pacis Scotia, the Form of the peace of Scotland,-
in which he recounts,
“That the people of Scotland, after they were
bound to us by oath of fealty, and by their written
engagements, did by evil advice make war upon us,
committing murders, robberies, burnings, &c., not
only in Scotland, but in parts of England also ;—but
that afterwards many of them returned and were
received into our peace and favor ; and now John
Comyn of Badenoch, and others of his party, desire
318 SETTLEMENT OF SCOTLÄND.
to be so received:—now we, willing to do them special
grace, have granted, and do hereby grant, that their
lives and liberties shall be Safe, and that they shall
not be disinherited. And we also pardon the crimes
aforesaid, and remit the anger we had against them,
they being bound to pay the fines hereinafter men-
tioned.” Then follows a schedule of one, two, or
three years' fines, on the principal persons concerned
in the rebellion.
And so, apparently, was Scotland a second time
pacified and brought under regular government.
Not a voice was now heard to disturb the general
tranquillity. One execution only, as in the case of
Wales, had been found necessary. One man in each
of the two countries had gone beyond the bounds of
legitimate warfare, and had by special crimes called
down upon himself a special punishment. But to
Scotland itself, as to Wales, the conduct of Edward,
both in 1296 and in 1305, was generous, wise, and
thoroughly noble. Still, these excellencies could
not protect him from treachery, perjury, and a third
rebellion. Before, however, we can proceed to this,
the last scene in Edward's life, we must pause for a
moment, to pass in review some important English
transactions.
CHAPTER THE THIRTEENTH.
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.—THE COM-
MISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. &c. &c.
A.D. 1299–1305.
A CONTROVERSY of some duration sprang up in
the latter years of king Edward’s reign ; and it is
one which can only be properly understood when
disentangled from the other contentions in which he
was involved, and considered altogether apart. We
allude to the strife which continued during all the
years between 1299 and 1305, on the subject of
the proper execution of the Charter of Forests. We
have already remarked, more than once or twice, that
most of our historians have confused the question, by
speaking in general terms of Edward’s unwillingness
to confirm “the charters,”—a vague way of speaking
which entirely clashes with what we know of Edward's
continued efforts, during more than twenty years, to
strengthen and enlarge Magna Charta, by turning it
into statute-law. And we have also explained, that
the points which were really in dispute were these
two —first, the king's right of taking “talliages or
prises” without consulting parliament; and, secondly,
a reduction of the royal forests, under the name and
form of “a new perambulation.”
In tracing the history, and the result, of these
320 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY.
two struggles, it is of great importance to remark, at
the outset, that Edward had reigned for a quarter of
a century before any controversy on either of these
points broke out. From 1272 to 1297 had the king
lived among his people, usually meeting his parlia-
ment twice or thrice in each year, and during all that
time not a syllable had been heard, either of any
burdensome “prise or talliage,” or of any desire for
“new perambulations.” In fact, the real and pri-
mary authors of all his troubles during the last ten
years of his life, were, Philip of France abroad; and
the restless and crafty Winchelsey at home. Until
disturbed and molested by these two men, Edward
had been able so to conduct his affairs as to leave
his subjects almost free from taxation. And during
all these five-and-twenty years, we hear no com-
plaint, either of “the public burdens,” or of any
mismanagement of the royal demesnes. This long
period of peace and contentment was terminated,
at last, by Philip's seizure of Gascony, and by
Winchelsey's attempt to gain for the church an
exemption from taxation.
No One, Surely, will for a moment deny, that
Edward was wholly blameless in both these quarrels.
To have patiently or sluggishly submitted to the
treachery and fraud practised by Philip, would at
once have removed Edward's name from the highest
place among English kings, and would have degraded
it to almost the lowest. He had no choice in this matter,
but between resistance or dishonor. Equally certain
is it, that the immunity claimed by the pope and the
primate, for the clergy, in the matter of taxation, was
a pretension utterly untenable and unjust, and one
which the king was bound to resist.
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 321
But while Edward thus felt himself “thrice
armed" in “having his quarrel just,” he found him-
Self beset by difficulties through the failure of his
accustomed supplies. Hence he was driven, by dire
necessity, to some of those extreme measures which
dictators, in any great peril of the state, often feel
themselves compelled to use.
And thus arose that kind of opportunity which
often produces “patriots.” Two of the great nobles,
Hereford and Norfolk, evidently disliked the war.
They would not go to Gascony without the king;-
they would not go to Flanders with the king. In
what way they would have preserved the honor of
England under Philip's fraudulent aggression, has
never been explained. They contented themselves
with finding fault, and raising difficulties. In their
remonstrance presented to the king just before his
departure for Flanders, they complain of the burden-
some taxation to which they had recently been Sub-
jected. They also add, in one brief and vague sentence,
an allegation, “that the charter of forests is also
violated by the king's officers:”—but no demand for
a perambulation or any other remedy is advanced by
them. The first of these two complaints was admitted
and the remedy applied, that same autumn, by a fresh
grant or confirmation of Magna Charta, with a new
clause, prohibiting the arbitrary levy of “prises or
talliages,” without consent of parliament. And so
ended that part of the controversy. But the remain-
ing clause in their petition, which opened, in the
vaguest way, the question of the forests, was left for
future discussion. The earls had not, yet, preferred
any definite request or demand.
Such a question, however, when once mooted, was
Y
322 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY.
not very likely to sink into forgetfulness. For it con-
cerned the possession of property,+the right to large
landed estates. The “earl” of a county was, in some
sense, the proprietor of that county; or, at least,
somewhat more than the nominal lord of it. And a
royal forest, situate within it, was just So much taken
from the earl’s estate;—and hence, if in any way he
could reduce the limits of the forest, he added, there-
by, and to the same extent, to his own territory.
Hereford and Norfolk had already dared the king's
anger, once or twice, and had suffered nothing by their
audacity. And now, whether prompted merely by
their own obvious interests, or advised by Winchelsey,
who seems to have been always their counsellor, they
boldly demanded “a new perambulation.”
For five-and-twenty years, as we have already
seen, had Edward reigned, without a complaint hav-
ing been made with reference to the royal forests. It
is only in 1297 that the first murmur reaches him,
that “the charter of forests is violated by the king's
officers.” He is then just embarking for Flanders;
but so far from slighting or disregarding this com-
plaint, on his return, in 1298, he issues a commission
to the earl of Lincoln, the earl Warrenne, the bishop
of London, the bishop of Lichfield, Robert Fitzwalter,
and William le Latimer, “to enquire into all prises,
trespasses, and oppressions, committed by the officers
of the forests.” No backwardness, then, can be
charged against Edward, in his mode of dealing with
this question.
But a “redress of grievances,” though at first put
forward as their object, was not the real object at
which the two earls were now aiming. In 1299 and in
1300, parliaments were held in London, and in each
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY, 323
year the demand put forward is, for “a new peram-
bulation,” and a “disafforesting.” This was a new
move in advance,—a direct aggression. The only
object that a “perambulation” could have, clearly
was, to take something from the royal forests. If it
did not mean this, it meant nothing.
Now this was assailing the king in a manner most
disagreeable to his feelings. As we have already
seen, he was jealous of any encroachment on the
rights of the crown, and held it to be his duty sedu-
lously to preserve those rights from any diminution.
He had never been charged with any attempt to
encroach upon others; yet now an attempt was made
to encroach upon him. For the principle adopted
was, “that all additions made to the forests since the
coronation of Henry II., should now be disafforested.”
Thus domains which had been in the possession of the
crown for nearly one hundred and fifty years, might
now be taken away.
“The royal forests were part of the demesnes of
the crown. They were not included in the territorial
divisions of the kingdom, civil or ecclesiastical; nor
governed by the ordinary courts of law; but were set
apart for the recreation and diversion of the king.”
And this kind of recreation was the favorite occupa-
tion of Edward’s leisure-hours. He engaged in it
With all the ardour of a naturally-impetuous mind.
On one occasion we read of “the great hunt in
Inglewood forest, in which 200 deer were killed;” on
another, of his horse's falling dead under him;—and
in a variety of ways we are made aware of his
especial fondness for this diversion. Hence, on every
ground,-as an aggression on the domains of the
CrOWn, even after a century of quiet possession; and
Y 3
$24 TEIE I) ISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY.
as an attempt to interfere with his own private re-
creations,—Edward felt disposed to dislike and reject
this proposal.
But the two earls, doubtless advised by Winchel-
sey, felt that they had the king at a disadvantage,
and they continued to press him closely. The same
motives which actuated them, must weigh, they well
knew, with almost every baron in parliament. Every
landed proprietor who had a royal forest in his
neighbourhood, might hope to gain something by an
investigation of the king's title, and an inquiry as to
the proper boundaries. Nor could Edward peremp-
torily reject their requests; for Scotland was still in
an unquiet state, and the king could only put down
those disturbances by the help of his barons and his
parliament. --
In 1297, as we have seen, the complaint of the
two earls was, “ that the charter of forests is violated
by the king's officers.” In 1298, bearing in mind
this complaint, the king issues a commission, to two
earls, two bishops, and two knights, “to enquire into
all oppressions committed by the king's officers.”
But, not satisfied with this, in 1299, the charters are
again mentioned in parliament, and now the real
object, disafforesting, peeps out. A new “peram-
bulation ” is loudly demanded, and it becomes evi-
dent that an important reduction of the domains of
the crown is the object aimed at.
So long as the two earls had merely asked for a
confirmation of the charters, or for enquiry into the
misdoings of the officers of the forests, the king had
listened patiently ; and had, in fact, conceded all that
they desired. But when they urged these new de-
mands, he grew impatient, and, as twilight was coming
*
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 32.5
on, he rose and left the meeting, telling them that
he was going out of town”. The sitting consequently
broke up, not without some anger. But the king's
marriage with Margaret of France took place that
autumn ; and apparently, being in a good humour, and
having reflected on the matter in all its bearings, he
resolved to gratify the earls so far as to order a new
perambulation to be made. Commissions were issued,
as we find in Prynne, either in 1299 or 1300, to a
great number of the counties, for inquiries into, and
reports upon, the boundaries of the royal forests.
And thus, when the parliament met, in the Lent of
1300, in Westminster, the king was able to inform
the members, that the perambulations which they had
desired were then in progress; and that the reports
would be ready early in the next year. At that par-
liament, also, he passed, as we have mentioned in a
former chapter, a new statute “on the charters,”
which explained and strengthened them on various
points, more especially as to “illegal prises and
talliages” made by officers of the crown.
Of the great parliament of Lincoln, held in 1301,
we have already given Some account. It deserves to
be ever remembered in England, on various grounds.
It was a large and full assembly, containing, in just
numbers and proportions, those Same elements which
are combined in the British parliament of the present
day. It had its earls, and barons, and prelates, in
number about one hundred and fifty ;-its knights of
the shire, in full tale ;-and its borough representa-
tives, in still more numerous array. Its proceedings,
too, began to assume that sort of form or order which
* Matthew of Westminster,
326 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
has been preserved in most free representative assem-
blies, from that time to the present. The king sent
down to “ his faithful lords and commons” a message
or speech; to which they, after due deliberation, re-
turned a reply. Motions were made, and an address
presented to the king, for a change of ministers;–
and the parliament even went so far as to ask to be
allowed to name the ministers of the crown. The
king, in his turn, gave such a reply as, it may be
hoped, a British sovereign of the present day would
be advised to give, to any such demand. After a
while, this heated and personal contest abated ; the
king made some important concessions; and the
parliament granted a supply. Lastly, the pope's
audacious claim to the sovereignty of Scotland was
taken into consideration; and a resolute and
thoroughly English answer was given to the pontiff’s
arrogant pretensions. On the whole, there have been
few assemblies of this kind, held in England, which
have better deserved to be held in honorable remem-
brance, than this parliament of Lincoln.
Its mode of dealing with the foreign question has
been described in a former chapter. Its reply to
Boniface terminated that controversy. But of the
discussions which took place on domestic matters
we gain only a few glimpses, which shew, however,
So much of the animation and importance of its
debates, as to cause deep regret that we have no
detailed record of those discussions. Two facts we
learn, from allusions to these proceedings made in
following years: first, that Winchelsey was a prime
though concealed mover in all the attacks made upon
the king :-and secondly, that under his advice, the
earls took another large step in advance; and, Seeing
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY, 327
that they were likely to obtain the perambulations,
now asked, under the crafty primate's instructions,
a further concession, which he well knew the king
was not likely to grant.
The Parliamentary Writs give us some insight
into the form and order of public business which had
already come into use. Thus, we have a writ dated
“Rose Castle, Sept. 25, 1300,” addressed to Walter
of Gloucester, which recites, “That the said Walter
and others had been assigned to make perambulations
of the forests: that the king wishes to proceed thereon
with the advice of the prelates, earls, barons, and
others, without whose counsel the business cannot be
duly despatched. That the king wishes to have a col-
loquium with the prelates, earls, barons, and with the
rest of the communitas of the kingdom, respecting
the perambulations, and on other arduous affairs
concerning the king and kingdom. The said Walter
is therefore enjoined to be before the king in his
parliament at Lincoln, within eight days of Hilary,
Jan. 20, 1301, to treat and advise with the prelates
and magnates, and others of the communitas of the
kingdom, on the Said affairs: and he is to bring with
him all the perambulations made by him and his
fellows, with all documents relating to the same.”
There are also other traces of preparations made
by the king for this discussion. Thus, in the autumn
of 1300, we find a writ dated from “Rose Castle,
Sept. 26,” by which the sheriff of Cumberland is
enjoined to send two knights for his county, and
representatives from each city and borough; and to
cause them to have their expenses. And also, to see
that proclamation is made, that all who had lands or
tenements within the boundaries of the forests, and who
828 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
wished to impeach the perambulation, should appear
before the king in his parliament at Lincoln, to shew
cause against the same. Another writ is addressed
to the Justice of the Forests north of the Trent,
desiring him “to cause all the foresters in his
bailiwick to appear before the king in his parliament
at Lincoln, to give counsel in the premises.”
Next, parliament being assembled, we have the
“Bill,” or royal message, sent down from the king to
the prelates, earls, and others, on the 20th of January
so appointed. It is, probably, the first example
of such a document that exists upon our records;
and for plainness, directness, and a wise and con-
ciliatory Spirit, it has, we apprehend, seldom been
exceeded.
“The king wills that the perambulations of the
forests shall be shewn to the “bones gentz’ who are
come to this parliament. When they shall have
examined the same, and shall have considered the
evidence which is to be produced, the king wills that
the perambulation shall stand, if they advise that it
shall be so ; and that the king can assent thereunto
without violating his coronation-oath, and disinherit-
ing the crown. If any matters require to be re-
dressed or changed, let it be done in such convenient
way as they may advise and provide ; or, if this
please them not, let some middle way be provided,
So that the business may be settled in a convenient
manner; having regard to the dignity of the crown,
which shall not thereby be affected; and so that their
oaths, and the oath of the king, relating to the rights
of the crown, may be saved.”
In the Parliamentary Writs, the final result, or
conclusion, to which this parliament seems to have
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 339
come, is given immediately after the royal message.
In this, however, as in many other similar cases,
the formal record of the business transacted, affords
but a faint and imperfect idea of the character of the
debates, or of the real object of the principal movers
in the transaction. But, fortunately, two or three
chronicles of the period remain, which are entirely
in agreement with each other, and which shew, that
the turbulent and ambitious primate had succeeded
in forming a powerful and a treasonable confeder-
acy, and in bringing matters to the very verge of a
civil War.
The Chronicle of St. Albans’ says:—
“The parliament was protracted by numerous
disagreements among the nobles. They had formed
a plan to harass the king, and provoke him to anger,
by demanding a right to appoint the chancellor, the
chief justiciary, and the treasurer.” The king is
said to have replied,—“Would ye deny us a right
which every one of you enjoys 2 Each head of a
house among you has power over that house. Why
do ye not demand the crown itself 2–you might as
well do that as make it a shadow. In your own
households ye may prefer, ye may pass over, Lye
may depose this man, or that. And would ye deny
us the same right 2 Nay, truly, the king shall
appoint his chancellor, his justiciary, his treasurer,
during his own pleasure; or else king we will not be.”
He added, “If our justiciary, or any officer shall do
unjustly, and the offence is not punished, then, indeed,
complain if ye will.” – “Straightway,” continues
the chronicler, “those who had urged the demand,
blushed. Many, however, preferred the confederacy
and war, to peace; and this preference did not escape
830 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
the king's notice. But when the nobles generally saw
how vain their demands were, they humbled them-
selves before the king, and asked pardon for their
presumption.”
Of the same transactions, Peter Langtoft gives
this account:—
“The erles and barons at their first summoning,
For many manner reasons 'plained to the king.
* * º: 36.
And next they made plaint of his Treasorere;
That evil things attaint he maintained thro’ power.
“Of many has it been told; to thee we plain us here ;
Him for to remove through common assent.
Assign it for more prow (honor) to this parlement;
That can that office give, and do the right usage.”
* * 3: *
The king's answer was smart:—“I see ye will,
Thro’ pride of heart, revile me with unskille:
And so low me to chace, mine officers to change,
And make them at your grace;—that were me over strange.
There is none of you, but he will at his might,
Have sergeants for his prow, withouten other sight.
Shall no man put through skille his lord lower than he ;
Ne I nor shall nor will, while I your king shall be.
If any of mine make strife, or taken thing not right,
* * * *
That wrong I will so mende, if that it be attaint,
That none shall come or send, to make more plaint.
* * * *
The parties were so felle altercande on ilk side,
That none could easily tell, whether war or peace would tide.
But God that is of might, and may help when he will,
For both the parties dight, and put them in his skille.”
We gather, then, from these two contemporary
writers, that a confederacy had been formed, and that
even civil war was contemplated by some of the par-
ties. But what occasion, what provocation, had the
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 331
king given, for any such extreme and violent course ?
For several years past, powerful and courageous as
he undoubtedly was, his whole course had been one
of concession. First, the two earls, disliking the
War in Flanders, begged him to excuse them, and to
appoint substitutes in their room. He accepted
their excuses, and appointed substitutes. They then
sent after him to Flanders, a request, that he would
add a new and important clause to Magna Charta;
and also would pardon their offences. He granted
both of these requests. Next, remembering that
they had complained of offences committed by the
officers of the forests, he issues, on his return
home, a commission to enquire into this matter*.
Their next demand is, for a new perambulation
of the forests. This, as a direct aggression, excites
his anger; but, after a little consideration, he
issues writs conceding this point also. And now
he meets his parliament with a mass of “reports of
perambulations,” and desires them, in the most con-
ciliatory manner, to counsel him, whether they think
that these perambulations should stand, and be
accepted, or whether they desire any other course to
be taken. What, then, in the king’s whole conduct,
had given any ground or provocation for this “con-
federacy,” in which even civil war was contemplated ?
Clearly, nothing.
Yet the fact, which is thus briefly stated in the
St. Albans' Chronicle, is confirmed by three other
documents. In Leland's Collectanea we find extracts
* And not only so;-but we find writs of the date of May
1300, appointing three justices in Leicestershire, and the like in
other counties, “to hear and determine in a summary manner, all
complaints of transgressions against the charters.”
‘882 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
from Pakington's Chronicle, one of which runs thus:
—(under the date of 1302):—“There was opened to
king Edward a conspiracy, wrought by the archbishop
of Canterbury, and divers counts and barons against
him.” Again, William Thorn, a monk of Canterbury,
narrating Edward’s speech to Winchelsey, when he
remitted him to the pope, states the king to have
reminded the archbishop, of “the treason which at
our parliament at Lincoln you plotted against us.”
And, in 1305, Edward, in issuing a new “ordinance
of the forest” says, in it, that “he was minded that
the perambulation should stand; albeit that the thing
was sued and demanded in an evil point.” Thus,
again and again we find traces of the fact which is
stated in the St. Albans' Chronicle, that the arch-
bishop and some of the barons had entered into a
confederacy, in which war (i.e. rebellion) was seri-
ously contemplated as possible.
Edward’s firmness, moderation, and skill, however,
proved more than a match for Winchelsey, and finally
extricated him from this perilous situation. While he
utterly rejected the demand, that he should give up
the nomination of his own ministers, and so make the
crown a mere shadow, he himself proposed a middle
course. Langtoft described him as saying,
“Of this I grant this morn, that ye trie this thing
With six-and-twentie sworn,--if I to your asking
May accorde right well, the crowne for to save
Dismembered not a whit, your asking ye shall have.”
“The wisest of the clergie, with erles and barons,
Together went, to trie of their petitions.”
This “select committee’’ finally brought matters to
a practical issue. It must have been judiciously and
fairly selected; for while we find, on one hand, proofs
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 333
of Winchelsey's presence and influence, in the reser-
Vation of the question as to the taxation of the clergy;
the demand for a transfer of the regal authority to
parliament, in the matter of the nomination of
ministers, dwindles down to a request, that “audi-
tours” be appointed; which request the king declines
to grant. The final result is given in the Parliamen-
tary Writs, in the shape of a reply of the parliament
to the royal message. In that reply, the parliament
says, that “the ‘gentz de la communauté de la terre’
shew unto the king, that they dare not answer which
of the two ways should be adopted; on account of the
perils which might ensue.” But, instead of adopting
or rejecting the king's proposal, they submit for his
consideration twelve articles, or propositions: these,
generally, are to the following purport :—That the
great charters be observed : that all statutes contrary
thereto be repealed: that the powers of the justices
to be named for the maintenance of the charters, be
clearly defined : that the perambulations not yet
completed be finished by the Michaelmas next ensu-
ing; &c. &c.
To nine of these propositions the king gives his
immediate assent. To two he gives qualified and
doubtful answers. To one only,–that in which the
barons say, that they cannot insist on the taxation of
the clergy, against the will of the pope, the king
gives his distinct disapproval. We shall give these
three articles in the Appendix”, together with the
answers of the king.
These twelve articles, then, with the king's assent
to nine of them, seem to have ended the disafforesting
* See Appendix IV.
334 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY,
guestion, so far as this parliament was concerned.
As a general result, we may say, that the king had
piloted the vessel of the state through a difficult and
perilous passage. The confederacy was defeated. Win-
chelsey’s purpose, of weakening the crown by involv-
ing it in war with the barons, was frustrated. Edward
succeeded in keeping his parliament together. There
were no “withdrawals in anger,” as there had been
on previous occasions. The barons, including even
Hereford and Norfolk, passed on to the next ques-
tion, the letter of pope Boniface; and they gave that
letter a fitting reply. They then voted the king a
fifteenth, and agreed to join him, in the Summer, for
a march into Scotland.
On the other hand Winchelsey had succeeded in
doing some mischief. Though it is impossible, at this
distance of time, to learn the details, it seems toler-
ably clear, that the king was obliged to yield, in the
matter of forest-boundaries, more than he felt to be
right and just. This clearly appears, in the occur-
rences of the following years. And, whatever wrong
of this kind may have been done, the primate strove
to render firm and irrevocable, by rising, at the close
of the assembly, and pronouncing the greater excom-
munication against all who should depart from the
agreement then made. He also adhered to his former
course, of refusing to give the king any “aid” from
the funds of the church.
And so ended this great parliament, an assembly
of the most remarkable character, whether we look at
its patriotic and spirited reply to the pretensions of
the pope; or at its large and full exercise of all the
proper duties of a representative assembly. With
reference to the disafforesting controversy, it seems to
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY. 335
have disturbed, rather than settled, the question. It
established those new and reduced boundaries which
had for Some time previous been demanded ;-but,
effecting this in a sudden and abrupt manner, it left
occasion for many subsequent alterations.
The next step we perceive to have been taken, is
one, which, like many other of Edward’s acts, has
been grossly misrepresented by some prejudiced his-
torians. It is said, in some of their narratives, that
he “persecuted the two earls;” and it is always im-
plied, that his animosity was excited by their Zeal
for “the charters.”
Now, if we look closely at the king's steps, we
shall find him perpetually associating with these two
noblemen on friendly terms, long after they had
opposed him in the matter of the charters. But the
question he had now to deal with, was one of high
treason. It was the same for which many great men,
in various periods of the seventeenth and eighteenth
centuries, died on the scaffold. Yet Edward dealt
with it in the most noble and generous way.
“There was opened to king Edward,” says Paking-
ton in his Chronicle, “a conspiracy, wrought by the
archbishop of Canterbury, and divers counts and
barons, against him, at Such time as he was in Flan-
ders. And when the earl marshal was examined of
this, and was not well able to clear himself, he made
the king his heir, and put him in possession of all
his lands. And the king gave him his lands again
during his life; and also land of £1,000 value in
addition.”
Several of the chroniclers state, that the earl had
no children, and was on bad terms with his brother,
who was a wealthy ecclesiastic. But, whether this
336 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
were so, or not, it is clear that the charge brought
against him was one which involved him in great
peril. Not only the writers whom we have already
Quoted, but Walsingham also, states, that it had been
contemplated to employ force against the king. Now
any man, called before the king's council on such a
charge as this, would perceive, that not his estates
merely, but his life also, was in danger. Hence his
wisest and safest course, especially with such a
monarch as Edward, was, an immediate and frank
Submission.
And such a course, with the king, always led to
a restoration of good feeling. In the days of the
Stuarts, a nobleman who had been guilty of “ conspir-
ing against the king,” would soon have found his Way
to the scaffold. With Edward, the usage was very
different. A face-to-face encounter, — a frank con-
fession and surrender on the earl’s part, Was SOOn
followed by forgiveness on the part of the king, and
so the whole quarrel ended.
The case of the earl of Hereford differed in one
important respect from that of Norfolk. The con-
spiracy spoken of by Pakington was said to have
been commenced in the year 1297, when the king
was in Flanders; although its last and most strenu-
ous effort was made in 1301. But the earl of
Hereford, who had been Norfolk's supporter in 1297,
had died in the autumn of the following year, and
the present earl was a young man, his son. He had
probably merely followed in his father's steps, without
any deep involvement in the plot. The king called
him to an account, as well as Norfolk; but the young
man found a different way of making his peace. He
asked for the hand of one of the king's daughters;
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 337
and, having, like Norfolk, pleaded guilty, he surren-
dered, like him, his estates to the king, receiving
them back again with the hand of the young princess.
And so ended this transaction, which some historians
have described as a “persecution” of the two earls.
Winchelsey, then, had not only been foiled, but
the king had fully succeeded in breaking up his
“confederacy.” Without severity or vengeance of
any kind, Edward had fairly taken the two earls away
from the primate; and was now at liberty to deal, at
his leisure, with the chief conspirator.
It seems probable, too, from a circumstance
which will presently appear, that the young earl of
Hereford, on becoming the king's son-in-law, had
given Edward full explanations as to the past, and had
placed in his hands written evidence against Winchel-
sey; for, shortly after, we find the king resolving to
take decisive measures against the archbishop. But
with Edward all was orderly and legitimate. Win-
chelsey had no reason to fear the fate of Thomas
à Becket, or of the archbishop whom Henry IV. sent
to the scaffold. The king under whom he lived could
resolutely withstand either a pope or a primate, when
he felt his own cause to be a just one ;-but his
respect for the church, and for the forms of law, was
sincere and deeply rooted. He had the highest kind
of complaint to prefer against this intriguing and tur-
bulent prelate ; but he resolved to lay it before the
pope, and to send the cause to him for judgment. His
ambassadors therefore placed the matter in the hands
of the pontiff, who immediately cited the archbishop
to Rome, to answer for his conduct. William Thorn,
a monk of Canterbury, thus describes the next
Scene:—“When the archbishop knew that he was
Z
338. THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
thus cited, he went to the king to ask for permission
to cross the sea. And when the king heard of his
coming, he ordered the doors of his presence-chamber
to be thrown open, that all who wished might enter,
and hear the words which he should address to him.
And, having heard the archbishop, he thus replied to
him :—‘The permission to cross the sea which you
ask of us we willingly grant you ;—but permission to
return grant we none :—bearing in mind your trea-
chery, and the treason which at our parliament at
Lincoln you plotted against us;–whereof a letter
wnder your seal is witness, and plainly testifies against
you.’ ‘We leave it to the pope to avenge our
wrongs; and as you have deserved, so shall he recom-
pense you. But from our favor and mercy, which
you ask, we utterly exclude you ; because merciless
you have yourself been, and therefore deserve not to
obtain mercy.’”
And so we part with Winchelsey, who disappears
from this history; not returning to England until the
weak and troubled reign of Edward II. gave him re-
entrance, and supplied him with new opportunities
for treason and conspiracy; all his plans and objects
having one end in view, the prostration of the royal
authority at the feet of the pontifical. But, in taking
leave of him we feel inclined to contrast, for a few
moments, his character with that of another prelate
to whom he was, in this parliament of Lincoln, es-
pecially opposed. It will be remembered, that one
especial demand of the “confederacy” was, the
dismissal and disgrace of the king's treasurer; and
the concession of the future appointments to that
office, to the parliament. Now this treasurer, against
Whom the conspirators preferred such complaints, was
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 889
Walter Langton, bishop of Chester. And the guiding
spirit of the conspiracy was, as we have seen, Robert
Winchelsey, archbishop of Canterbury. Let us, then,
briefly sketch the history of these two men, one of
whom was Edward’s principal domestic foe; the
other, his most trusted servant and minister.
Robert Winchelsey, who came to the primacy in
1295, was as restless, arrogant, and intriguing an
ecclesiastic, as had filled the archiepiscopal chair
since the days of Thomas à Becket. In fact, he
seems to have been selected by the enterprising
Boniface VIII., as a fit agent to carry on the work
of Becket and Pandulph. But, to do this with any
efficiency, under such a prince as Edward, it was
necessary to affect the tone and language of Stephen
Langton.
As an ecclesiastical superior, Winchelsey was
arrogant and tyrannical. He had one long contest
with the monks of St. Augustine's in Canterbury;
another with the earl of Lancaster; one year we
find him excommunicating the constable of Dover
Castle ; the next, the bishop of London; the next,
the prior and canons of Gloucester, and so on to the
end of the story. But these were merely the amuse-
ments of his leisure hours. The grand business of
his life, as of Becket's, was to bring, if possible, the
crown into subserviency to the papal tiara.
He had no sooner landed from Rome, and taken
possession of his see, than he convened, says Matthew
of Westminster, some of his suffragans in the church
of St. Paul, London, “for a special discussion on the
liberties and customs of the church ;-reviving and
re-establishing certain constitutions which had been
approved by the holy fathers, but which, by neglect,
3. Z 3
340 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
had fallen into disuse.” The real drift of all this
“revival of certain liberties of the church’’ soon ap-
peared. A very few months had elapsed, before the
king was compelled, by Philip's seizure of Gascony,
to call upon his subjects for aid; and at once the
archbishop revealed his real purpose, by producing
a papal mandate, which he, probably, had brought
with him from Rome, forbidding the clergy any longer
to grant “aids” to the king without the special per-
mission of the pope.
This novel assumption, which at once made the
pope, and not the king, the ruler over a large part of
England, might have succeeded in either of the two
preceding, or in the succeeding reign; but in Edward,
the crafty churchman had met with more than his
match. By making them practically feel the meaning
of the word “outlawry” the king soon brought the
clergy to a clearer understanding of their real posi-
tion.
But, though defeated in his first attempt, Win-
chelsey was not discouraged. Unable, alone, to cope
with the power of the crown, he immediately began
to form “conspiracies” and “confederacies” with
any whom he perceived to be discontented. And in
this way, by fostering and encouraging the resistance
of Norfolk and Hereford, he managed to keep the
king in a state of conflict and discomfort from 1296
to 1301; and in this last year, he had proceeded to
the verge of a civil War. The king, at last, irritated
and seriously aggrieved, sent him to the pope for
judgment, and so, in effect, cast him out of the realm.
But the man, and his plans and purposes, remained
unchanged. So soon as this great king, the only per-
son who could control him, was gone, Winchelsey
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 341
crept back again into England, and we soon find him,
under the weak and incapable Edward II., leading
the discontented barons, and again attempting to
enact the part of Stephen Langton. Such was
Winchelsey, a fit agent of the papal court; but
to England, a troubler and an intestine foe.
Contrast with him the man who, in confederacy
with the discontented barons, he essayed, in 1301, to
crush, – Walter Langton, bishop of Chester, the
king's treasurer, and one of his most valued servants.
Had we no further knowledge of this prelate than
the fact, that the conspirators at Lincoln prayed the
kin
9. “Him to remove by common assent,”
we might feel a doubt, whether the king had shielded
an unworthy favorite, or the barons had conspired
against an officer of inconvenient integrity. Happily,
We are enabled to discover a few other facts respect-
ing Walter Langton, and those facts all redound
greatly to his honor.
Foremost of these, must be placed his steady
resistance to the excesses of the young prince, and
his favorite Gaveston. The king was now in the
decline of life; and the young Edward had every
prospect of being king in a few years. Tangton was
treasurer, and had the duty assigned to him of pro-
viding the young prince with a regular and a liberal
income. What could have been a more obvious policy,
with any minister of flexible morality, than to culti-
vate, by any practicable means, the good opinion and
the favor of the young prince and of his minion ?
Yet we find Langton, during all the latter years of
this reign, in a state of constant Warfare with young
Edward and with Gaveston. And as one Very natural
342 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
result, —a result which the bishop himself must
always have contemplated,—we find Edward II., as
one of his first acts on ascending the throne, depriv-
ing Langton of all his offices, throwing him into
prison, and granting to Gaveston all the moveable
property of the deprived prelate. This single fact,
of itself, is sufficient to give us a favorable impres-
sion of Langton’s character. To have withstood the
follies of the young prince and his favorite, and to
have been persecuted by them for so doing, are Surely
circumstances which tell much in Langton's favor.
But they do not stand alone.
Two or three years pass over, during which the
poor ex-treasurer languishes in prison ; while his
enemies are occupied with the endeavour to find
evidence to warrant his condemnation. The discon-
tented barons at Lincoln had brought “many com-
plaints" against him. If he had actually wronged
any man, that person would now have the strongest
reason for laying the crime to his charge; for in So
doing he would not only gratify his own natural desire
for vengeance, but would also please those who were
now in power. But what do we hear 2 After being
immured in a prison for nearly three years, Lang-
ton is at last released,—there being no case against
him. Under all the circumstances, we doubt if any
higher or more triumphant proof of the integrity of
the ex-treasurer's character could have been given.
But even this is not all. Winchelsey, the restless
intriguer, has now returned, the only man who could
keep him in check having been removed; and this
factious ecclesiastic at once resumes his former work,
just where he had been forced to drop it; and begins
to conspire against the son, as he had been used to do
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. . 343
against the father. The “confederacy” of the barons
is revived, and Winchelsey is again its inspiring
genius. What could have been more natural than
for Langton, indignant at the persecution which he
had endured, to have joined with eagerness this
confederacy, the main object of which was, to get rid
of Gaveston, the cause of all his sufferings? But
the course taken by this honest minister was one
of singular integrity. He had been “imprisoned,
deprived of his offices, and stripped of all his pro-
perty;” and yet, after all, his persecutors had been
obliged to admit his innocence, and to let him go free;
and now “he was the only prelate who refused to join
the confederacy against Edward II.” Notwithstand-
ing all the wrongs which he had received at the
young king's hands, this noble-minded man remem-
bered his great master, and that master's faithful
Support of him against his enemies at Lincoln ; and
he refused to take part in any conspiracy against that
master's son. But the proof of Langton’s purity and
integrity does not even end here. He had been
released,—the charges against him were now known
to be groundless; but one more evidence, of the
highest kind, was yet to be given. Three or four
years after he had ignominiously expelled the bishop
from his office, and ordered his imprisonment and his
prosecution, the young king himself felt compelled to
pay a reluctant tribute to Langton’s ability and integ-
rity, by actually asking him to resume the treasurer-
ship, and to serve him as faithfully as he had served
his father | Considering all the past quarrels between
these two men, and their frequent collisions and con-
* History of Lichfield Cathedral, p. 57.
344 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
sequent ill-blood, this application must be admitted
to be one of the most striking proofs of integrity that
an expelled and disgraced officer ever received. And,
taken in connexion with the first Edward’s other
selections, of such men as Burnel, Brabazon, &c., it
gives us a deep impression both of that king's skill
and judgment in selecting his ministers, and also of
his firm and steady support of them in the discharge
of their duty.
But we must terminate this discussion, and go
back to the moment of Winchelsey’s disgrace and
banishment to Rome:—The chief criminal had thus
been punished; but, as in many similar cases, the
effects of his crime remained. He had fostered the
discontent of the earls, and had guided and suggested
their course. At Lincoln, though substantially
defeated, the “confederacy” evidently obtained from
the king some larger concessions, in regard to the
forests, than he thought just or right; and the arch-
bishop adroitly struck in, at the close of the matter,
with his denunciation of the greater excommunication,
which was calculated and intended to make those
concessions unalterable and irrevocable. But this
violent way of ending and deciding a great and intri-
cate controversy only led, as violent courses usually
do, to further complications. Questions of title and
boundary, in the case of territory or landed estates,
are those which, beyond most others, require patience
and moderation. The king, also, in the present
instance, was dealt with in a manner which the great
barons themselves would not tolerate in their own
cases. Twenty years before this period, the king had
proposed a general investigation of titles; and one of
the earls at once drew his sword, exclaiming, “It was
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 345
by this that my forefathers won their lands, and by
it I mean to maintain them.” To this repugnance the
king gave way. But now a different rule was to be
applied to the royal domains. The principle asserted
was, that whatever could not be shewn to have been
forest at the accession of Henry II. in 1154, should be
disafforested. The adoption of so wide a range, must
inevitably have introduced great differences of opinion.
But there can be no doubt that many of the great
barons added largely to their estates, at the king's
expense, by these “disafforestings.”
Yet, after all, there was another class, and that
not a small one, which had a deep interest in these
Questions,—an interest of a very different, and, indeed,
opposite kind to that of the barons. The royal forests
were not vast Solitudes, or parks occupied solely by
animals for the chace. Their borders, especially,
were largely peopled by cottagers; who, under the
permission of the king or his officers, had reared up
dwellings within the privileged limits, and were
allowed pasturage and even some kinds of tillage
therein. This whole class of persons now found their
position imperiled. A sudden change of owners had
in many places been experienced, and often the poor
cottager found reason to regret the alteration. In
this way, it soon became evident, that the “disaffor-
esting” question was not one bearing upon the king's
personal recreations merely ; but one which was
intimately connected with the interests of thousands
of his people. We are not imagining a possible or
even a probable case. It is upon record, that divers
petitions were sent in to the king, at his parliament
of 1305, held at Westminster, on the day before the
feast of St. Matthew, by “certain people that be put
346 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
out of the forests by the great men,” and who “pray
the king that they may be as they were wont to be
heretofore.” This is set forth in the preamble to the
ordinance. It was, then, in answer to the prayers of
many who felt themselves aggrieved and oppressed,
that the king passed, in that parliament, an “Ordi-
nance of the Forests;” in which, with his usual frank-
ness and explicitness, he explains the real position
of the question.
He adverts, first, to the origin of the “disafforest-
ing,”—saying, “Our lord the king (to these petitions)
answers, that since he hath granted the perambulation,
he is pleased that it should stand, in like manner as
it was granted; albeit that the thing was sued and
demanded in an evil point.”
But next the king proceeds, as far as he was
able, to amend the evil complained of, and to give
comfort to those who had “cried unto him for
succour.” He says, that with respect to “them
that have lands and tenements disafforested by the
late perambulation, and do desire to have common
within the bounds of the forests,” “the intent
and will of our lord the king is,” “that if any of
them would rather be within the forest as they
were before, than out of the forest as they are now,
it pleaseth the king very well that they shall be
received thereunto ; so that they may remain in their
ancient estate, and have common and other easement,
as they had before. And our lord the king willeth
and commandeth, that his justice of the forests, &c.,
shall take notice of this ordinance.”
This was an attempt to undo, so far as might be,
Some of the ill consequences of the hasty and violent
determinations of 1301. But it may easily be per-
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 347
ceived, that controversies and collisions would be
likely to arise out of this state of things. Upon the
strength of the charters and perambulations, and
oaths and excommunications of 1301, the “great
men” had begun to take portions of the royal forests
to themselves, and to add them to their own estates.
They also frequently got rid of the cottagers who had
long found a home in the forests; and proceeded
either to add the land to their farms, or to their own
grounds. To stop these evictions, the king issues a
new ordinance. But that ordinance, when produced,
would doubtless be met by an appeal to the charter,
to the perambulations, and to the archbishop’s ex-
-communication of all who departed from them. And,
with any churchman, this terrible anathema would
be admitted to have a fearful weight.
It must have been this “conflict of the laws’
which drove Edward to a course which, with our
light, it is impossible to defend; but which, in those
days, was of a kind which was by far too common.
The sentence of a primate could only be absolutely
nullified by an authority of a still higher kind.
Hence, to undo the act of Winchelsey, the king sent
to Rome, and asked of the pope a bull, cancelling
and setting aside all the obligations of 1301.
This is a step which we shall not attempt to jus-
tify; but it was consistent with the belief of those
days. Knowing, as we know also, that some vows
are rash vows; that some oaths, like that of Herod
(Mark vi. 26), are unfit to be kept; they believed
also, what we do not believe, that Christ had left
authority with the bishop of Rome, to “bind and
loose ’’ in all such matters; and that when he had
declared any oath or vow to be null and Void, it
348 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
became as though it had never been given. These
views, as we have said, were held by all men at that
time” ; and although we now reject them, we ought
to judge any man's character mainly by his adhe-
rence to what he conscientiously believes to be true;
acting honestly on that measure of light which he
possesses.
There was also another feature of the case which
greatly weighed with the king, a feature, too, which
our courts of equity up to the present hour always
take into the account, when examining into the Validity
of a man’s engagements; we mean, that of coercion
and intimidation.
He had left Winchelsey, in 1297, one of the
council of the young prince. The council, on Wal-
lace's success, called a parliament in London; and to
that parliament there came Hereford and Norfolk,
with a large body of armed retainers, and insisted on
a fresh confirmation of the charters, with a new
clause. Their demands were remitted to Edward in
Flanders, with an earnest request, on the part of the
council, that he would concede to the wish of the two
earls. So advised, the king assented to these propo-
sals. Since then, it had been shewn to him, that all
these proceedings in 1297 were the result of a con-
* Thus Mr. Tytler tells us of Bruce's conduct in 1297;—that
“Bruce went to Carlisle with a numerous attendance of his friends,
and was compelled to make oath on the consecrated host, that he
would continue faithful to Edward. To give a proof of his
fidelity, he ravaged the estates of Sir W. Douglas, then with
Wallace, seized his wife and children, and carried them to Annan-
dale. Having thus defeated suspicion, and saved his lands, he
privately assembled his father's retainers, talked lightly of an
extorted oath, from which the pope would absolve him, and urged
them to follow him against the English,” (Vol. i., p. 129.)
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 349
spiracy between Winchelsey and the two earls; and
he had had a letter put into his hands which proved
this fact. At Lincoln, too, in 1301, he had observed
the same conspiracy or confederacy at work; and
had again found, that civil War was contemplated and
prepared for by the conspirators. Thus, high treason
had been, for three or four years, going on all around
him. Any man of a generous and noble mind, and
with a just sense of his kingly rights, would naturally
feel indignant at such treatment; and Edward, in his
application to the pope, dwells especially on these
proceedings, as taking from his engagements that
character of freedom which ought to attend them.
In our own day, if a woman, in contracting a mar-
riage, or a man, in giving a bond, is found to have been
acting under coercion or fear, or to have been the
victim of a conspiracy, those obligations are imme-
diately set aside by our courts of equity. Rome, at
that time, claimed to be the court of equity for all
the Sovereigns of Europe, and the pope acted upon
those principles which are recognized by English
lawyers to the present hour. The bull was granted,
and the extorted concessions declared to be null and
Void.
Many historians have expressed their wonder,
that this bull, when obtained, was scarcely acted upon.
“The power was not, in fact,” says Hume, “made use
of.” “The king made,” says Lingard, “no public
use of this document.”
This wonder arises from a misconception of the
king's real views and objects. Many writers assume,
most absurdly, that Edward was hostile to “the
charters.” Yet one of his first acts, as Hume admits,
after receiving the papal absolution, was to grant
350 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY.
“a new confirmation of the charters;” thus shewing,
in the most direct and palpable manner, that it was
not against “the charters ” that his efforts had been
directed.
If we wish to understand the king's actions, and
their motives, we have only to study his own words,
and there we shall soon discover, that it was to rectify
some of the evil consequences of the disafforesting
regulations of 1305, and to nullify Winchelsey’s sen-
tence of excommunication, that this papal absolution
was procured. The bull arrived in Easter 1306,
and its publication declared to the people that the
archbishop's anathema was made null and void. But
the king left them but a short time in doubt as to his
intentions; for on the 28th of May came forth that
remarkable statute which appears on the 147th page
of the Statutes of the Realm, and in which the king
addresses himself to the hearts and understandings
of his subjects, in the following fervent expres-
sions:—
“The king, to all whom, &c.—Greeting:
“While we behold the imperfection of human
Weakness, and weigh with attentive consideration the
burdens that lie upon our shoulders, we are inwardly
tormented with divers compunctions, tossed about by
the waves of divers thoughts, and are frequently
troubled, passing sleepless nights, hesitating in our
inmost Soul upon what ought to be done, what to be
held, or what to be prosecuted. Yet, under Him
who holding in heaven the empire over all things,
bringeth every thing into existence, and dispenseth
the gifts of His grace as it pleaseth Him, while the
understandings of men cannot conceive the greatness
of his wisdom, We do resume our power, trusting
THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROVERSY. 351
that He will perfect our actions in His service; and
in the clemency of His goodness, will mercifully look
upon, and supply our deficiency, that we, relying
on His protection, may be directed in the path of
Our Lord’s commandments. Truly, among all the
things that rest upon our care, about this chiefly is
our mind busied without intermission, that we may
provide ease and comfort for our subjects dwelling in
our realm, in whose quietness we have rest, and in
whose tranquillity we are comforted. We have learned,
by the information of our faithful servants, and by
the cries of the oppressed, that the people of our
realm are, by the officers of our forests, oppressed
and troubled with many Wrongs, . . . . . . .
Wherefore, being desirous to prevent such oppres-
sions, and grievances, . . . . . and to provide
with our most diligent endeavour for the peace and
tranquillity of the inhabitants of our realm, We
have ordained,
1. (Of presentments of offences.)
2. (Of supplying of officers.)
3. (No officer to be of any jury.)
4. (Punishment of officers surcharging.)
5. (Trespassers in grounds disafforested.)
6. “And moreover we will, that they which had
common of pasture in the forest before the perambu-
lation was made, and who were restrained of com-.
mon by the late perambulation, shall have their
common of pasture hereafter in the forest, as freely
and largely as they wont to have before the perambu-
lation was made.” ---
This ordinance was sent to the several counties of
England, and ordered to be publicly proclaimed.
And in it we see the fruit, and the only fruit, of
352 THE DISAFFORESTING CONTROWERSY.
the papal absolution. It is hardly correct to Say, as
some historians have said, that the king made no use
of the bull of absolution : we believe that he made
all the use of it that he ever intended or desired to
make. In some way or other, he had felt himself in
a measure uncrowned by some regulation made at
Lincoln; and hence he says, on obtaining the papal
annulment, “We do resume our power.” But then,
the only use he makes of that power, is to relieve
those who, by the disafforesting, “were put out of
the forests by the great men,” and who cried to him
for help. As for any infringement or retrenchment,
either of Magna Charta, or of the Charter of the
Forests, not the least step of the kind is imputed to
him, even by the most prejudiced of all the historians.
Yet are some of these very ready to ascribe to him
a desire or intention of this kind; although they
admit that for some undiscoverable reason, it never
exhibited itself in action |
Such, then, was the real character, and such the
practical results, of those disputes and discussions
respecting “the charters,” which occurred between
1297 and 1306,-i, e, between the twenty-fifth and
thirty-fourth years of Edward’s reign. On the whole,
the people were largely gainers by these discussions;
but, that they were so, is mainly to be attributed to
the constant anxiety shewn by the king, to meet
generously all the demands which were made upon
him ; and to concede to his people all that it was in
his power to grant, “without disinheriting the
CrOWn.”
THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. 353
One or two other matters of minor, but yet of
considerable, importance, require to be mentioned at
this period of the history;-that is, during the last
five years of the king's life.
We have already dwelt at some length upon
Edward’s character as a legislator; and his high
rank as a commander requires no proof from us.
But England, at this important crisis in her history,
needed a man of power in a third capacity,+that
of a ruler; and she found this also in Edward. Two
reigns, of sovereigns in various ways unfit to rule,
had so far relaxed the bonds of society, and weak-
ened the authority of the law, as to call loudly
for the effectual interposition of some one, whose
power should be sufficient to make the laws not only
theoretically just, but also practically useful.
Forty or fifty years before this period, Henry III.
had been obliged to sit in person on the bench of
justice at Winchester, in order to secure the punish-
ment of offenders who had rendered even the roads
of Hampshire dangerous. Some years later, we have
seen earl Warrenne assailing, Sword in hand, one of
the king's judges in Westminster Hall. Edward had
himself suppressed this mutiny; and, persevering in
his determination to make the law respected, he next
brought the judges themselves to trial, for corrupting
that which it was their especial duty to preserve.
His correction of the two earls, Hereford and Glou-
cester, who, in his twentieth year, had broken out
into a petty and personal warfare ; and his Statute
of Winchester “for preserving the public peace and
preventing robberies,” were further proofs of his
sedulous and firm resolve to give his people the
benefit of a government of law and Order. But, about
. A. A
354 THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c.
the thirty-second year of his reign, he found a new
evil uprearing itself; and, without any delay, he
applied to it the most suitable remedy, a Special
Commission.
The mischief itself, which this new authority was
intended to suppress, was described in the writs
which gave the commission its existence. Bodies of
men had associated themselves together in various
parts of the country; who “for certain rewards,
bargained to beat, wound, or evil-intreat, persons
named to them, at fairs, markets, or other places;”
and, by the fear which they inspired, these ruffians
deterred the sufferers from preferring indictments
against them. Such an evil required instant and
strong-handed suppression, and this it received at
Edward’s hands.
Peter Langtoft, after describing the siege and fall
of Stirling, and the death of earl Warrenne, proceeds
to describe this evil, and the king's plan for its sup-
pression. He says,
“After the interment the king took his way;
To the south he went, through Lindesay;
He inquired, as he went, who did such trespass;–
Brake his peace with deed, while he in Scotland was 2
Of such should be spoken, if men of them plaint,
Those that the peace had broken, if they might be attaint.
Wise men of God gave answer to the king,
That such folks were, it was a certain thing;
Through the land is done such great grievance,
That if not mended soon, a war may rise of chance.
These contenders where'er they assigned a place that is,
There they come together, and made a sikerness (engagement)
That they shall all go, to whom or where they will,
To rob, beat, or slay, against all manner skill.
They offer a man to beat, for two shillings or three;
With piked staves great, beaten shall he be:
"THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. 355
In fair or market they shall seek him out;
All the land is set, with such folks stout.
* * +
For men of such manners, unless there be some justice,
In some few years, perchance, a war shall rise.
The king heard all they said, the plaint of each town ;
And gave them a new name, and called them “Trailbastoun.’
* * *
The king through the land did seek men of renown,
And with the justices them bound, to sit on Trailbastoun;
Some on quest they 'demned to be bounden in prisons;
And those that fled they banisht as the king's felons.”
The phrase trail-basſon is, in old French, “draw
the staff.” The use and intent of it in the present
case has been learnedly discussed by various writers;
but it appears to be beyond a doubt that, as sir Francis
Palgrave remarks, “it designates the offender, and
the offence; not the court, or tribunal.” In the Chron-
âcle of Rochester, already referred to, on the margin
of which we find various pictorial illustrations,—the
representation here given, is of two men fighting with
bludgeons. And it is evident that the real object of
this special commission was, to put down in a reso-
lute and summary manner, what, in modern phrase,
would be styled “club-law.” These commissions
seem to have been so useful and efficient, as to be
continued for about eighty years; or until the middle
of the reign of Richard II. Stowe speaks of them as
holding special sessions, occasionally, in the metro-
polis; mentioning particularly “at the stone-cross
near the Strand, over against the bishop of Coventry’s
house;” and sometimes within that prelate's man-
sion.
Calling to mind the terrible example made of the
judges in the seventeenth year of Edward's reign :
A A 3
356 THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c.
and combining with it this special and vigorous Sup-
pression of provincial disorders, we cannot fail to be
reminded of the portrait sketched by the Laureate in
his recent Idyls; or avoid a question, whether the
poet had not this sovereign in his memory, when he
drew such a portrait:—
“The blameless king went forth and cast his eyes
On whom his father Uther left in charge
Long since to guard the justice of the king.
He looked, and found them wanting; and as now
Men weed the white horse on the Berkshire hills,
To keep him bright and clean as heretofore,
He rooted out the slothful officer
Or guilty, which for bribe had winked at wrong;
And in their chairs set up a stronger race,
With hearts and hands º º
e - e. e. e. e. g. and moving everywhere,
Cleared the dark places and let in the law,
And broke the bandit-holds, and cleansed the land.”
One or two other incidents, bearing upon the
same point in the king's character, fall in our way at
this period;—that is, in the last three or four years
of Edward’s life.
Sir Nicholas de Segrave was a knight of distinc-
tion ; probably a brother of John de Segrave, who
commanded the English forces at Roslyn. Sir John
de Cromwell accused him of treason. Segrave, dis-
liking the formalities of a legal investigation, chal-
lenged his accuser to decide the question by wager of
battle. But Edward, whose discerning mind always
revolted from the absurd idea of deciding a question
of right or wrong by mere physical force, and who
had, twenty years before, protested against such a
proposal when made by two foreign princes, very
naturally refused his consent. The combatants,
THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. 357
apparently, thought that they might evade his decision,
by crossing the sea, to fight the duel in France.
Segrave returned, and was immediately arrested, for
disregarding the king's prohibition. The case, doubt-
less, was a novel one, and when the offender was
brought to trial, the judges remained three days in
deliberation ; and at last declared the offender to be
liable to the punishment of death, and the forfeiture
of his property; but added, gratuitously, that “it
was in the king's power to pardon him.” Edward’s
indignant exclamation seems to reveal one point in
his character. “Foolish men,” he cried out, “after
so long a deliberation, to tell me that it is in my
power to have mercy Why I I will do that for a
dog who casts himself on my grace l—of what value,
then, is such a recommendation ? However, put
your sentence into writing, that it may remain law
for the future.” Segrave was then remanded to
prison; but after a few days, thirty knights petitioned
for his pardon, and offered to be sureties for his
future good behaviour. So entreated, Edward gave
him a free pardon, and released his property from
forfeiture.
In the Placita Roll of 1304, there occurs the
following entry :—
“Roger de Hecſham complained to the king, that
whereas he was the justice appointed to hear and
determine a dispute between Mary, the wife of Wil-
liam de Braose, plaintiff, and William de Brewes,
defendant, respecting a sum of eight hundred marks,
which she claimed from him ; and had decided in
favor of the former;-the said William, immediately
after judgment was pronounced, contemptuously
approached the bar, and asked the said Roger, in
358 THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c.
gross and upbraiding language, if he would defend
that judgment;-and he afterwards insulted him, in
bitter and taunting terms, as he was going through
the exchequer-chamber, saying, “Roger, Roger, thou
hast now obtained thy will of that thou hast long
desired.”
“For this offence, William de Brewes, being
arraigned before the king and his council, acknow-
ledged his guilt. And because such contempt and
disrespect, as well towards the king's ministers, as
towards the king himself or his court, are very odious
to the king, as hath of late expressly appeared when
his majesty expelled from his household, for nearly
half a year, his dearly-beloved son, Edward prince of
Wales, on account of certain improper words which
he had addressed to one of his ministers, and suffered
him not to enter his presence until he had rendered
Satisfaction to the said officer for his offence;—it was
agreed by the king and his council that the aforesaid
William should proceed unattired, bareheaded, and
holding a torch in his hand, from the king's bench in
Westminster Hall, in full court, to the exchequer, and
there ask pardon from the aforesaid Roger, and make
an apology for his trespass, and shall be afterwards
committed to the Tower, during the king's pleasure.”
The pointed reference here made to the king's an-
ger and stern rebukes of his son, naturally directs our
thoughts to this passage in Edward's life. His pre-
Scient consciousness of the young prince's weakness,
and his strong dislike to Gaveston, his chief seducer,
are already well known. We have alluded to one
distinguished man, who is indicated in the above
extract, as the minister with whom the young prince
had been brought into collision. Walter Langton,
THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. 359
bishop of Chester, (sometimes called bishop of Lich-
field or Coventry,) was the king's treasurer; and the
prince had a stated income payable out of the royal
exchequer. Under such guidance as that of Gaveston,
it was inevitable that this income would prove insuffi-
cient; and that urgent demands for larger Supplies
would naturally follow. Hence the quarrels, and the
violent language, alluded to in the sentence on William
de Brewes. Another glimpse of light on this Subject,
is afforded by a letter from the prince to the earl of
Lincoln, which has recently been discovered in the
chapter-house at Westminster. In that letter the
prince thus describes these circumstances:—
“On Sunday, the 13th of June, we came to Mid-
hurst, where we found our lord the king, our father.
On the Monday following, on account of certain
words which, it had been reported to the king, had
taken place between us and the bishop of Chester, he
was so enraged with us that he has forbidden us, or
any of our retinue, to dare to enter his house; and he
has forbidden all the people of his household and of
the exchequer to give or lend us anything for the
support of our household. We are staying at Mid-
hurst to wait his pleasure and favor, and we shall
follow after him, as well as we are able, at a distance
of ten or twelve miles from his house, until we have
been able to recover his goodwill; which we very
much desire. Wherefore we especially entreat you,
that on your return from Canterbury, you would come
towards us; for we have great need of your aid and
your counsel.”
The firmness and severity of the king, in this
instance, was of no ordinary kind, and we know from
the after-life of the younger Edward, that extreme
360 THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c.
severity was absolutely necessary. The royal pro-
hibition was so effectual, that the young prince
encountered real difficulties, and the king was induced,
in the course of July, to recall his prohibition, and to
allow things to revert to their ordinary course”. But
so long as Gaveston was the prince's companion, it
was inevitable that his course should be a vicious
and a wretched one. The quarrels with the king's
treasurer recurred continually, and in 1305 we read,
that,
“This year king Edward put his son prince Ed-
ward in prison, because that he had riotously broken
into the park of Walter Langton, bishop of Chester,
and destroyed the deer. And because the prince had
done this deed by the procurement of a lewd and
wanton person, one Piers Gaveston, an esquire of
Gascony, the king banished him (Gaveston) out of
the realm ; lest the prince, who delighted much in his
company, might, by his evil and wanton conduct, fall
into evil and naughty rulef.”
We now know, by the sad fate of Edward II.,
how well-founded were his father's apprehensions.
And already, such was Gaveston's ascendancy, and
his consequent audacity, that he appears very quickly
to have stolen back again into the prince's Society.
For we find an ordinance for his banishment, dated
“Lanercost, Feb. 26, 1307,” in which he is commanded
to swear that he will not return ; and the prince, that
he will not recall him. And so strong was the con-
viction which had fastened on the king's mind, of the
fatal tendency of this friendship, that one of his last
* See Appendix L.
t Caxton's Chron., Matthew of Westm., Fabian, Holinshed.
THE COMMISSION OF TRAILBASTON, &c. 361
injunctions to the prince, just before his death, was,
never to recall Gaveston. That injunction, however,
was forgotten and disregarded, and the loss of his
throne and of his life was young Edward’s punish-
ment.
We have now carried the history up to the sixty-
seventh year of Edward's life, and the thirty-third
year of his reign. One more chapter alone remains,
and that will carry us, through rough and stormy
Scenes, to this great king's grave.
CHAPTER THE FOURTEENTH.
*=ººms-nºms
ROBERT BRUCE.—HIS ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.—
EXASPERATION OF EDWARD.—WAR RENEWED.
—DEATH OF THE KING.
A.D. 1800–1807.
WE now enter upon the closing period of Edward's
life ;—that period, the events of which are so inter-
mingled with the rising fortunes of Robert Bruce,
as to render its history, So far as it goes, equally the
biography of the one and of the other. And pro-
bably it will scarcely surprise the reader to find, that
our view of the “eminent man”,” who afterwards
became king of Scotland, differs as much from the cur-
rent and popular idea, as, in the preceding chapters,
our estimate of the great English king had done.
Bruce succeeded, like various other valiant
knights of the Norman race, in winning for himself a
kingdom ; and the Psalmist’s words were verified in
his case, as they have been in many others, “So
long as thou doest well unto thyself, men will speak
good of thee.” But before we accept the exaggerated
estimate of a recent Scottish writerſ, who styles him
“ the greatest of heroes,” we should endeavour to
arrive at a just conclusion, as to wherein true great-
ness or heroism consists.
* Tytler; who, with great judgment, selects the phrase “emi-
ment,” in preference to either “good” or “great.”
t Lord Campbell,
ROBERT BRUCE. 363
It is important to obtain, if possible, a clear and
accurate idea upon this point; as, without this, we
shall find ourselves perpetually eonfounding things
which are essentially different, the merely physical
or external greatness which captivates the million, and
that true or moral greatness which alone possesses any
value in the eyes of the thoughtful and discerning.
Between such men as Alexander, Caesar, and Napo-
leon, on the one hand, and Alfred, William III., and
Wellington on the other, there is no real affinity;
and to confound them all under one head, as men
who have “wrought great deeds,” is to treat the
Subject in an ignorant and superficial manner.
There can scarcely be a more striking instance of
the fallacy of supposing that great deeds suffice, of
themselves alone, to constitute a man a hero, than was
afforded by the comparatively recent history of
Napoleon Bonaparte. Here was an individual who,
without any enormous crimes, but by the mere force
of his military genius and powerful intellect, had
raised himself from the lowest rank above a common
Soldier, to be the autocrat of the continent of Europe.
Over its whole extent, only one or two sovereigns
had not yet fallen into a position of subserviency.
When he visited Dresden on his way to open his
Russian campaign, “he was waited upon by a crowd
of obsequious kings and princes, who attended at his
levées, like satraps before the throne of an Assyrian
despot ; and accepted, or seemed to accept, every
word which fell from his lips, as if an oracle had
spoken%.”
Nor was this very wonderful, for the man who
$ Gleig,
364 ROBERT BRUCE.
received all this homage, had, indeed, led his con-
quering legions over all parts of Europe, except
England and the north. He had fought sixty great
battles, nearly every one of which was a great victory.
He had more than doubled the extent of the French
empire, and was now leading half a million of men
over the whole width of the European continent, in
order to rebuke the stubbornness of Russia. Well,
therefore, “might he seem to himself, and to others
also, the greatest of all men that had been in the
world for some ages”.” External or merely mental
or physical greatness, could scarcely be carried to a
more lofty height.
Yet what was this same Napoleon, when his
character and his actions were calmly scrutinized ?
“What was his career, with all the noise it made 2
A flash of gunpowder wide spread, a blazing-up as
of dry heath. For an hour the whole universe seems
wrapt in smoke and flame ; but only for an hour.
It goes out, and the universe, with its mountains and
streams, its stars above, and its soil beneath, is still
theref.” Justly said one of the German princes, even
in the height of the conqueror's splendour, “This
Napoleonism is unjust ; it is a falsehood, and it can-
not last.” All this “glory” “was treacherous, it
was bought by a breaking or weakening of the moral
sentiments.” This would-be hero “had proposed to
himself simply a brilliant career, without any stipu-
lation or scruple concerning the means.” And so it
came to pass that “the highest-placed individual in
the most cultivated age of the world, had not the merit
of common truth and honesty; he would steal, slander,
* Carlyle. i Idem.
ROBERT BRUCE. 365
assassinate, as his interest dictated. He was intensely
Selfish ; he was perfidious. In short, when you had
penetrated through all this immense power and splen-
dour, you found that you were dealing after all with an
impostor and a rogue.” Such was the result of “an
experiment, made under the most favorable conditions,
of the power of intellect without conscience. It came
to nothing”.” -
To distinguish, then, between these two kinds of
greatness, the merely physical or mental, and the
moral,—is of the highest importancef. The possession
of great ability and great power may be common to
both ; but the different uses made of that power may
either raise the holder of it to the rank of an angel,
or lower him to that of a fiend. And hence, conceding
to Robert Bruce, without hesitation, the character of
greatness in some sense, it will be our duty to examine
to which of these two classes he really belongs.
Must it be said of him, as of the still more successful
hero of our own century, that “he had proposed to
himself simply a brilliant career, without any stipu-
lation or scruple concerning the means?” This is a
Question, the answer to which will gradually develope
itself, as the facts of the history come successively
under review.
The common, but most erroneous view of Bruce's
character, adopted by all Scotch writers, and accepted
* Emerson.
# We do not overlook the existence of a third, a still higher
kind of greatness; as exemplified in the Wicklifs, Luthers, and
Howards, which have been at various times raised up to bless
mankind. But this more spiritual kind of heroism is not to be
weighed in the same scales which are used for kings and con-
querors, for heroes of the court and the camp; and hence it
lies beyond the range of our present enquiry.
366 ROBERT BRUCE,
by most readers, of whatever nation, is that which
ranks him with Caractacus and Tell, with Palafox
and with Hofer, as a devoted “lover of his country,”
—one who gave his whole soul to the task of “freeing
her from a foreign yoke.” All that need be said of
this notion is, that it is purely romantic and fictitious;
having not the slightest foundation in truth or fact.
This is now admitted by Scotchmen themselves,
whenever they have any character as historians to
maintain. Thus, in the Wallace Documents, printed
at Edinburgh, by a society of Scottish gentlemen, we
read, that “ Bruce by descent was an Englishman, and
probably so by affection as well as interestº.” His
grandfather was an English judge; his father was a
personal friend of the English king; and one of the
earliest facts discoverable in the grandson's life, is,
that his father had interest enough to obtain his
admission into king Edward's household. Their home
was in Yorkshire, where, at Guisborough, the elder
of the three lies buried. His son, the father of the
young man now before us, was governor of Carlisle,
and was buried at Holme Cultram in that county.
Their connection with Scotland was like that which
the last marquis of Stafford formed, in our own time,
by marrying a Scotch heiress, and taking the title of
duke of Sutherland. Of the history of the family,
lord Campbell thus speaks:– -
“Robert de Brus, or Bruis (in modern times spelt
Bruce), was one of the companions of the Conqueror,
and having distinguished himself in the battle of
Hastings, his prowess was rewarded with no fewer
than ninety-four lordships, of which Skelton in York-
* Wallace Documents. Maitland Club. P. 43.
ROBERT BRUCE, 367
shire was the principal.” “Robert, the son of the
first Robert de Brus, whom we have commemorated,
became a widower while a young man, and to assuage
his grief, paid a visit to Alexander I., then king of
Scots, who was keeping his court at Stirling. There
the heiress of Annandale fell in love with him, and
in due time he led her to the altar.” “The fourth in
succession married Isabel, the second daughter of
David, earl of Huntingdon, grandson of David I.
Robert de Brus, afterwards the competitor, was their
eldest son.”
This Bruce “practised in Westminster Hall from
1245 to 1250. In the latter year, he took his seat
as a puisne judge ; and in the forty-sixth year of
Henry III., he had a grant of forty pounds a-year
salary.” He married a daughter of the earl of
Gloucester. •
In 1268 he was appointed chief justice, and
remained in that post until the end of Henry's reign.
Not being re-appointed, he retired to his castle of
Lochmaben. Here he became one of the commis-
sioners for negotiating the marriage of the heiress
of Scotland with the young prince of Wales. On the
death of the youthful Margaret, he advanced his own
claim, as the Son of David of Huntingdon's second
daughter; but the question was referred to king
Edward, who, as we have already seen, decided in favor
of Baliol, the grandson of David's eldest daughter,
Bruce, disappointed, and resolving not to pay
homage to Baliol, “retired,” says sir Walter Scott,
“to his great Yorkshire estates; ” where he died in
1295, the year preceding Edward’s first entrance into
Scotland. His son, the second Robert de Brus, was
a personal friend of Edward's, and had accompanied
368 ROBERT BRUCE.
him to the Holy Land. Edward’s private loan to
him of forty pounds has been alluded to in a former
chapter. He married the countess of Carrick, and
thus brought into the family another Scotch estate.
He appears to have been stedfastly loyal to the
English crown, and, accordingly, his lordship of
Annandale was taken from him by the Scottish par-
liament of 1294-5, when that parliament busied itself
in confiscating the estates of all who adhered to the
English alliance. “During the contest of 1295-6,
this Bruce, the earl of Carrick, son to the competitor,
possessed of large estates in England, continued
faithful to Edward*.”
In the previous history of England since the
Conquest, the de Bruses are constantly found among
the English barons. At the battle of Lewes, in 1264,
the Robert de Brus of that period was among the
king's supporters. We have described him as a
judge in Westminster Hall, and he was also sheriff
of Cumberland, and was buried, as we have already
mentioned, in 1295, at Guisborough in Yorkshire,
where his tomb still remains. His son, the earl
of Carrick, Edward’s personal friend, and governor
of Carlisle, was interred, as we have said, at Holme
Cultram. To him succeeded, in 1304, the third Robert
de Brus of Edward’s time, who afterwards became
king of Scotland.
It is abundantly clear, therefore, that the Robert
Bruce of whom we are about to speak,--whose father
and grandfather held offices under the English crown,
and regarded Yorkshire as their home ; obtaining for
the grandson an appointment in the English court,
* Tytler's History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 204.
ROBERT BRUCE. 369
was, as the editor of the Wallace Documents says,
“ by descent an Englishman, and probably so by
affection as well as interest.”
This Bruce was born in 1274, and he was in his
twenty-third year when Baliol resigned the crown of
Scotland; and Edward then appointed his father,-
“his dear and faithful Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick,
and his son, to receive to his peace the inhabitants of
Annandale.” This was probably the young man’s
first appearanee in public life in any political capacity.
The next year, during Edward’s absence, Wal-
lace raised the standard of rebellion. And now the
“younger Bruce's conduct,” says Mr. Tytler, “was
vacillating and inconsistent.” The wardens of the
marches called upon him to take his place under the
king's standard. He accordingly went to Carlisle,
and there took a solemn oath on the consecrated host,
that he would be faithful to the king. “To prove his
fidelity, he ravaged the estates of sir William Douglas,
then with Wallace, seized his wife and children, and
carried them to Annandale. Having thus defeated
suspicion, and saved his estates, he privately assem-
bled his father's retainers, talked lightly of a ‘foolish
oath’ he had taken, from which he hoped the pope
would absolve him, and urged them to follow him”,”
and to join the insurgent forces.
In July, earl Warrenne approached, with an Eng-
lish army. Several persons of note, who had been
in some measure implicated in the rebellion, sub-
mitted themselves and made their peace with the
king, and among these was Robert Bruce.
The same kind of vacillation is apparent in the
* Tytler, vol. i., pp. 129, 206.
B B
370 ROBERT BRUCE.
course of the next five or six years. In 1299 we find
his name associated with that of John Comyn, as one
of the regents of Scotland. But before the affair of
Roslyn, he was again under the English banner. And
throughout he seems to have striven to keep on good
terms with the king. In 1303-4, on his father's
death, he succeeded to the English and Scotch estates,
taking the usual oaths of fealty, and being released,
by the kindness of Edward, from the Scutage payable
to the feudal lord. Of his professions to Edward at
this time, we learn something in a letter addressed
to him by the king in 1304, which runs thus:–
“Edward, by the grace of God,” &c.—“to our
faithful and loyal Robert de Brus, earl of Carrick;
and to all other our good people who are in his com-
pany, greeting. We have heard that it is agreed
between you and John de Segrave and our other good
people of his company, to follow the enemy ; and
that you desire we should hold you excused if you
come not to us on the day appointed. Know that
for the great diligence and care which you have used
in our affairs, and because you are thus agreed to
follow the enemy, we thank you as heartily as we
can, and we pray and require especially, as we
confide in you,”—“that ye put an end to this
affair before ye leave these parts.” And, finally,
when a new settlement of Scotland was about to be
attempted in 1305, “Edward,” says Chalmers, “seems
to have placed his chief confidence in Wishart, bishop
of Glasgow, Robert Bruce, and John de Moubrayº.”
Yet, during all these latter years, if we are to believe
Hume and other eulogists of Bruce, the latter was
* Chalmers' Caledonia, vol. i., p. 671.
ROBERT BRUCE, 371
secretly plotting a new rebellion. Unquestionably,
those who SO represent him, must mean to describe
him as one of the greatest deceivers and hypocrites
upon record. But we are not satisfied that he
merits all this odium. We are not certain that, up
to this time, he was actually guilty of more than
Mr. Tytler lays to his charge,_namely, vacillation
and inconsistency.
But by this inconsistency, i.e. by returning to
his allegiance whenever he had for a moment departed
from it, he contrived to keep himself in the good graces
of the king. Hence Mr. Tytler observes, that—
“ Bruce, whose conduct had been consistent only
wpon selfish principles, found himself, when compared
with other Scottish barons, in an enviable situation.
Pſe had preserved his great estates, his rivals were
overpowered, and, on any new emergency occurring,
the way was partly cleared for his own claim to the
crown.” This “claim,” however, such as it was, must
obviously have been regarded as, for the present, in
abeyance, since both Baliol the younger and Comyn
stood before him in the right order of succession*.
We have now brought Bruce's history down to
the autumn of 1305, when, as a principal party in
“the settlement of Scotland,” which was effected, or
supposed to be effected, that year, he was much in
attendance on the king, in London, and at his palace
of Sheen, in Surrey. And our thoughts naturally
turn towards the question,-What was the state of
Bruce's mind at that critical moment 7
We have seen that the supposition of his “patriot-
ism,” and “impatience of the English yoke” is simply
* See Appendix M.
B B 3
872 ROBERT BRUCE.
absurd; inasmuch as his feelings must have been at
least as much English as Scotch ; and his perception
of the benefits which Scotland would derive from the
union must have been as clear as our own. But
neither, on the other hand, are we entitled to lay to
his charge that deliberate and long-continued system
of perfidy and falsehood, which many of his admirers
appear to attribute to him without compunction.
We apprehend that sir Walter Scott has accu-
rately described the real state of Bruce's mind at this
period, in his lucid sketch of the position of the
Norman barons generally. He says, “Two or three
generations had not converted Normans into Scots ;
in fact, the Normans were neither by birth nor manners
accessible to the emotions which constitute patriotism.
Their education had not inculcated that love of a
natal soil, which they could not learn from their roving
fathers of the preceding ages. The ideal perfection
of the knight-errant was, to wander from land to land
in quest of renown; to gain earldoms, kingdoms, nay,
empires, by the sword, and to sit down a settler on
his acquisitions, without looking back on the land
which gave him life. Every soil was his country;
and he was indifferent to feelings and prejudices
which promote in others patriotic attachment to a
particular country”.”
We have already observed this character of mind
in the De Montforts; one of whom first aimed at the
earldom of Leicester, and then set off for Languedoc,
where he became count of Toulouse. His son,
although entirely a Frenchman, contrived to become
leader of the barons of England, and was, for a year
* History of Scotland, vol. i., p. 68.
ROBERT BRUCE. 373
or two, the actual ruler of the land. And in the same
Spirit, no sooner had Robert Bruce grasped the
crown of Scotland, than his brother Edward, emulat-
ing his example, aimed to become king of Ireland.
And it is this simply selfish view, common to
all the race, which explains the “vacillation ” which
Mr. Tytler charges upon Robert Bruce. He had
already large possessions, both in England and in
Scotland, and he was evidently a calculating man.
He disliked to stake his great estates, except when
there was a clear prospect of improving his position.
Had patriotism or a “ hatred of the English yoke.”
been his ruling motive, he would have taken his chance
with Wallace in 1297, or with Comyn in 1302. But
Wallace fought in Baliol's name, and Comyn was
an adherent of the same party; having, too, a better
right to the throne than Bruce's own. In such a cause
Bruce cared not to risk his fortunes. Not until he
Saw an opportunity of advancing his own claims,
would he appear in the field. To rescue Scotland
from the English dominion, merely to leave it in the
hands of a Baliol or a Comyn, was an enterprise
which had no charms for him. The ruling principle
with all the Normans, which sir Walter Scott so
Well describes in the above extract, was his ruling
principle. His conduct, to use Mr. Tytler's words,
“was consistent only upon selfish principles,”—not
merely at the commencement of his history, but
throughout his whole career.
Historians have generally failed to notice the cir-
cumstances which led to Bruce's final decision, his
murder of Comyn, and his appearance in the field as
a pretender to the crown. Yet there is no doubt or
obscurity about them. The grand deterring cause
374 ROBERT RRUCE.
which had kept him back hitherto, was, the military
power and talent of Edward. This, while it endured,
was naturally, a great discouragement to all who felt
dissatisfied with the English rule. Many of Bruce's
admirers especially applaud his courageous daring, in
venturing with a handful of supporters to take the field
against so great a king ; but these writers overlook
the fact, that Bruce, who was a cautious as well as an
ambitious man, waited, before he took the field, until
he had full assurance that Edward would never more
be found in his wonted place on the field of battle.
Bruce, as we have already noticed, was actually
engaged, in the summer and autumn of 1305, in
arranging, with the king, the future government of
Scotland. Doubtless, he spent much time with
Edward, in his palace of Richmond, (then called
Sheen,) and would naturally become well acquainted
with the state of his health. He would perceive that
the effects of more than twelve campaigns,—many of
them attended with hardship, were beginning to tell
seriously upon the king's constitution, and that his
lower limbs were now rapidly failing him. This fact
is noticed by the historians of the time; and we find
that when, in the following Whitsuntide, the king had
to go through the public duty of conferring knight-
hood on a large company of young men in West-
minster Abbey, his strength proved insufficient to
enable him to discharge his part in the ceremony.
This important fact naturally accounts for Bruce's
appearance in the field at this juncture. We have
already admitted that, up to October 1305, there is
nothing proved against Bruce but that which Mr.
Tytler describes as “vacillation and inconsistency.”
The king had called upon him to assist in the paci-
ROBERT BRUCE. 375.
fication and settlement of Scotland, and he may have
given his advice and assistance without any deceit or
dishonesty. All the Scotch nobles then took their
leave, and “returned home with the appearance
of great joy and satisfaction;” and probably Bruce
either accompanied or soon followed them; for we
find him at Dumfries shortly after Christmas.
Up to this time, then, we have no proof of Bruce's
perfidy or treachery. But, assuredly, the confidence
which Edward had reposed in him, and the expres-
sions of loyalty and good faith with which he must
have met that confidence, ought to have deterred him
from the course which, in a few weeks afterwards, he
adopted. It was probable, however, that on his
journey homewards, his thoughts would naturally
turn on the peculiar circumstances which made that
the crisis of his fate ;-to wit, the king's evidently
failing health; the notorious incompetency of the
young prince; and the still incomplete establishment
of the English power in Scotland. If we could only
assume two things, which by Scottish writers are
generally assumed,—that Bruce had patriotic feelings,
and that he had come under no obligations to Edward,
—we might then concede, both that there was some
justification for the step which he took, and also, that
the time was most judiciously chosen. But as we
know that not patriotism, but a desire for self-aggrand-
izement, was his governing motive, and that he had
sworn and avouched in all possible ways the truest
fealty and loyalty to Edward, it is quite impossible
to regard his conduct in the following February in
any other light than that of an enormous crime.
The king was now in his sixty-seventh year. His
health had latterly been more uncertain, and his
376 ROBERT BRUCE,
strength less firm, than during the greater part of his
active life. He moved, in the winter of 1305-6,
through his domains in Dorset and Hampshire, and
was still in that country when, about Easter, the
tidings were brought to him of a new insurrection in
Scotland. Such intelligence would naturally excite
the most painful feelings. For nearly ten years he
had been striving to win the people of Scotland by
kindness. He had indeed been forced to enter that
country in arms, and had vindicated his right, again
and again, on the field of battle. But he was always
eager to sheathe the sword, whenever the Scotch
were disposed for peace. There is probably no
parallel for the constant placability and forbearance
displayed by Edward in Scotland. Frequent perfidies,
numerous murders, were committed by the Scotch,
but not one solitary execution took place. A single
criminal, Wallace, died in London for murders com-
mitted in England; but even he, had he submitted,
might have had his life. Justly has Lingard remarked,
that “the world has seen many conquerors; but it
will be difficult to find one, who, with such provocation,
has displayed an equal degree of lenity.”
And the most painful and grievous feature of the
present rising, to Edward’s mind, was, the shameless
perfidy manifested by the principal actors. All
through the year 1305 the king had been confiding the
arrangement of all Scotch affairs chiefly to two men,
—Wishart, bishop of Glasgow, and Robert Bruce.
Either of these might have declined the task, Ed-
ward was no tyrant, whose slightest wish must be
implicitly obeyed. If Bruce and Wishart had chosen
to abstain from this work, they could have found
pleas of excuse. But they came to London, and for
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 377.
several weeks consecutively, they were busily engaged
with the king in framing the new Scottish constitution.
They then take leave of him, “with the appearance
of great joy and satisfaction;” and the next thing
the king hears, is, that Bruce has murdered Comyn
for refusing to join him in a revolt; and that Wishart
has crowned Bruce king of Scotland 1
Let us now pass in rapid review the leading cir-
cumstances of this new insurrection, which first
broke out on the 10th of February, 1306. Various
details are given by different English chroniclers who
wrote at the very time, and probably from the in-
formation of eye-witnesses.
The Chronicle of Lanercost was written at the
time, and in the very neighbourhood where the first
act of rebellion took place. And the chronicler gives
this brief and simple statement :—
“Lord Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick, guilefully
sent a message to lord John Comyn, asking him to
come and have an interview with him at the house of
the Friars Minors in Dumfries ; and when he had
come, he slew him in the church, and also lord
Robert Comyn, his uncle.”
Walter Hemingford, one of the best of the English
historians, and who frequently proves his intimate
knowledge of public affairs, thus fills up the brief
record of the Lanercost Chronicle :-
“In the year of our Lord 1305°, Robert de Bruce,
grandson of that Bruce who had disputed with Baliol
the crown of Scotland,” “relying upon perverse counsel,
* Hemingford here dates the commencement of Bruce's trea-
son, probably from good information, in 1805. So that, imme-
diately on leaving Edward, and returning to Scotland, he must
have begun his arrangements for the revolt.
378 ASSAŠSINATION OF GOMyN.
aspired to the kingdom ; and fearing lord John Comyn,
a powerful noble, and faithful to the king,” “he sent
to him with treacherous intent two of his brothers,
Thomas and Nigel, asking him to meet him at Dum-
fries, to treat of eertain matters, and he, suspecting
no evil, came to him to the church of the Friars
Minors. And when they were conversing, as it seemed
with peaceful words, all at once altering his mien and
changing his language, he began to inveigh against
him, accusing him of having injured him in the king's
estimation. And when Comyn attempted to reply,
the other would not hear him, but, as he had plotted,
he struck him with his foot, and then with his sword,
and retiring, left him to his retainers, who, pressing
on him, left him for dead on the pavement of the
altar.”
Matthew of Westminster is another contemporary
historian, who also frequently shews that he had
access to the best sources of information. His ac-
count runs thus:—
“Robert Bruce, earl of Carrick, first secretly, and
afterwards more openly, conferred with some of the
nobles of Scotland, saying to them, ‘Ye know that
by hereditary right this kingdom belongs to me, and
that this nation intended to have crowned my grand-
father king, had not the cunning of the king of
England disappointed them. But now, if you will
crown me king, I will deliver this kingdom and people
from the tyranny of the English.” To this many
consented. But when he asked John Comyn, a noble
and powerful knight, whether he consented, he reso-
lutely answered, that he did not. And he added,
“All the world knows that the king of England has
four times subdued our country; and that We all,
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 379.
both knights and clergy, have sworn fealty to him for
ourselves and our posterity. Far be it from me to
consent to this: I will not burden my soul with this
perjury.’ Bruce begins to persuade; Comyn con-
tinues to object; the one threatens, the other with-
stands. At length Bruce, drawing his sword, strikes
Comyn, who was unarmed. Comyn fell, grasping
the sword, and striving to take it from him, when
Bruce's attendants rushed in, and gave Comyn fresh
wounds. This took place at Dumfries, in the church
of the Friars Minors.”
Peter Langtoft, another chronicler of the time,
thus tells the story :—
“Of Walleys have ye heard, how his ending was ;
Now of king Robert, to tell you his trespass.
As Lenten-tide came in, Christen man's lach,
He sent for John Comyn, the lord of Badenach :
To Dumfries should he come, unto the Minors' kirke ;
A speking there they had;—The Comyn will not worke;
Nor do after the saying of Robert the Bruse.
Away he gan him drawe; his conseil to refuse:
Robert with a knife, the Comyn there he smote ;
Through which wound his life he lost, well I wote.
He went to the high altar, and stood and rested him there.
Came Robert's squire, and wounded him well more :
For he will not consent to raise no follie;
Nor do as he meant, to gin to make partie,
Against king Edward, Scotland to dereyne.”
Other contemporary writers might be cited, but
it is needless. The four already given are of the
highest class. These writers were all men so placed
as to have access to the best information ; and they
wrote at the very time. In the general outline they
all agree. Bruce, apparently, had taken his course,
and was gathering a party round him, preparatory to
380° ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
a rising. Comyn, who had been regent of Scotland,
and had fought for Scottish independence so long as
he could keep the field, receiving no aid from Bruce,
is now the one man in Scotland who can most power-
fully further or hinder Bruce's success. Bruce,
therefore, naturally seeks a meeting with him. But
the dark features of the transaction are these,_that
While Bruce, by naming a church for their meeting,
had induced Comyn to attend unarmed, he himself
and his attendants came to the meeting in arms.
Hemingford charges Bruce with affecting anger, in
order that he might, “as he had plotted,” draw his
sword on an unarmed man. This purpose his fol-
lowers were prepared to second; and thus a gallant
knight, who had fought for Scotland while Bruce was
paying court to Edward, was deliberately murdered
in a church, by those who had inveigled him there
for a professedly peaceful object.
Mr. Tytler, like most other modern Scottish
writers, endeavours to extenuate Bruce's guilt by a
supposition which turns out to be wholly groundless.
Mr. T. says, “This murder had been perpetrated by
Bruce and his companions in the heat of passion,
and was entirely unpremeditated.” So say not the
earlier Scottish writers. They tell us that Bruce
killed Comyn : they argue, upon the plea which they
themselves had invented, that Comyn had betrayed
some Secret to the king, and that therefore Bruce
had a right to kill him; but they tell us nothing of
any “heat of passion,” or any want of premedi-
tation. On the contrary, the Kirkpatrick tradition,
which they all hand down, proves the very contrary.
Assume the meeting to have been honestly meant,
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 381
as a friendly conference; and that no thought of
murdering Comyn had entered any one's mind.
Bruce hastily issues forth, exclaiming, “I doubt I
have killed Comyn !” Is it not clear that the first
exclamation from all his attendants would have been
One of Wonder, horror, and amazement 2 But how
runs the story 2 “You doubt l” said Kirkpatrick,
“I’ll soon make sure ?” (mak siccar.) Is it not clear
that this is the exclamation of a man who feels no
Surprise, but who had anticipated some such news.
Bruce, then, assuredly, in the words of the Laner-
cost chronicler, “guilefully ” drew Comyn unarmed
into a church, and there, “as he had plotted,” he
deliberately butchered, with the help of his attend-
ants, a single unarmed man. Whether the page
of history contains the record of a blacker crime
than this, is a question which we shall not attempt
to decide.
So stood the transaction, recorded in various
chronicles of the time, but with no essential variation
or contrariety; and it so stood, without question or
contradiction, until two or three generations had
passed away, and all who had known either Edward
or Bruce, or their children, in either realm, had gone
to their account. But, at last, at the end of the
fourteenth century, and in the beginning of the
fifteenth, three historians,—Barbour, Fordun, and
Wyntoun, arose in Scotland. They undertook, natu-
rally enough, to write the past history of their own
country, but materials they had none, Save Scottish
traditions, and the chronicles extant in England.
Barbour, the first of these writers, had a pension
assigned to him, out of the Scottish exchequer, “for
382 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
compiling the book of the deeds of king Robert the
first.” It is abundantly clear, that whether he looked
to the Scottish court, or the Scottish people, his in-
terest, and probably his inclination, would prompt
him to varnish over this passage in Bruce's life, in
the best way he could devise. And his followers, -
Fordun, who wrote about 1400, and Wyntoun, who
wrote between 1420 and 1424,-were more likely to
copy and improve his story than to discredit it.
The fable which these writers doubtless thought
it their duty to invent and to propagate, was to the
following purport:—
That Comyn and Bruce had had conferences,
(“confidential meetings,” Mr. Tytler calls them,) to
discuss the prospects of a new rebellion, in which
Comyn was to support Bruce's claim to the throne,
and receive his, Bruce's, estates as a reward: That
this agreement was put into “an endentur, and seled :”
That Comyn (being in Scotland) “rode off to the
king,” (who at that time was in Dorset or Hants,) and
“shewed him the endentur,” and left it with him: That
thereupon the king summoned a parliament, and that
Bruce came up from Scotland to attend it : That
Edward, having Bruce in town, was about to seize
him, when the earl of Gloucester gave him warning
and he fled : That on his way to Scotland, he met a
messenger, whom he killed, and on whose person he
found letters from Comyn to Edward | That thus
armed, and indignant at Comyn's treachery, he went
to Dumfries, met Comyn in the church of the Friars
Minors, where he upbraided him, and at last slew him.
Such is the story told by these writers, which we
Only notice because modern Scotch historians Seem
to think it a national duty to credit and repeat these
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 383
fictions, invented a century after the time to which
they refer, in preference to the plain and simple nar-
ratives of the writers who lived and wrote in that
very year, 1306. One Scottish writer, however, pre-
sents an honorable exception to this common failing.
Mr. David Macpherson, the able editor of Andrew
Wyntoun's Cronykyl, adds this just and acute criti-
cism to the passage in Wyntoun, which contains this
version of the Comyn story:—
“This whole story of the transactions of Bruce
with Comyn has much the air of a fable contrived to
Varnish over the murder, and to make it appear an
act of justice in Bruce, whose splendid actions had
so prepossessed the people in his favor, that they were
determined not to believe that he could do wrong.
The story has this sure mark of fable, that the later
Writers give us more circumstances than the earlier
ones. Barbour has nothing of the earl of Gloucester,
nor of Comyn's messenger being intercepted and put
to death, which are found in Fordun. In Bower’s
time the tale was embellished with the devil’s consul-
tation, and his wise scheme of inspiring Comyn to
betray Bruce; together with the fall of snow, and the
ingenious device of shoeing the horses backward —
it was also thought proper to augment his retinue
with a groom, and to allow two days more for the
journey. Nothing remained for Hector Boece, but to
turn the earl of Gloucester's pennies into two pieces
of gold, and to make a brother for Bruce, whom he
calls Davidº.”
Thus even a Scotchman, possessed of honorable
feelings, can detect and expose these fabrications.
* Macpherson's Cronykyl of Andrew Wyntoun, vol. ii., p. 501.
.384 - ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
Two or three other remarks, however, ought here to
be made : for instance :-
1. Those Scotchmen who insist on believing, that
at the very time when Bruce was sitting at Edward's
table, and professing himself his loyal and attached
friend and servant, he had actually proposed and
arranged with Comyn a new rebellion, must attribute
to him the highest degree of perfidy and hypocrisy.
For our part, we see no evidence of this.
2. Supposing Edward to have received warning
from Comyn of Bruce's treachery, and to have in-
tended his arrest, no reason can be assigned why
he should afterwards have kept silence on this point;
or why none of the English historians should have
alluded to it. Their entire silence as to any previous
warning given to the king, when they could have had
no motive for concealing such a circumstance, seems
to make it clear that the charge brought against
Comyn, a century after, of having “betrayed ”Bruce,
was an after-thought and an invention. Hemingford
indeed says, that at the conference, after “peaceful
words,” Bruce “all at once changed his tone,” and
began to charge Comyn with “injuring him in the
king's estimation.” This, however, was when Bruce
was beginning to assume anger and passion, as an
excuse for falling upon an unarmed man. Still, it is
Quite possible that Comyn may have told Edward
that he was deceived in Bruce's pretended zeal for his
service; and that this caution may have reached
Bruce's ears. And it was easy, a century after, to
turn this honest caution into a “betrayal” of Bruce.
3. A chief evidence, however, of the fabulous
character of the whole story, is found in the nearly
impossible nature of the chief facts.
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 385
The Scottish commissioners, of whom Bruce was
one, took leave of Edward in October 1305, and
“returned home.” And early in February, Bruce,
having sounded other Scottish leaders, invites Comyn
to meet him at Dumfries. Between these two
dates, there intervene some thirteen or fourteen
Weeks.
Now, at the fastest rate of travelling, it would
have taken, in those days, about three weeks to pass
from Dorset or Hants to Dumfries. A king's mes-
senger, sent from London to York, in the twenty-
eighth of Edward I., was allowed sixteen days,
probably for the journey and return. Another, sent
from London to Lancaster, in the sixth of Edward
II., was ten days in going, and thirteen in returning.
And the primate, describing his journey to find the
king, in the south of Scotland, in 1300, speaks of it,
as “twenty days’ journey,” “travelling incessantly,
and with all haste.” When, therefore, we are told,
that Comyn, in Scotland, receives an “endentur”
from Bruce, and “rides off to the king with it ;”
(some four or five hundred miles;) that the king
thereupon, to entrap Bruce, “summonses a parlia-
ment,” (which of itself implies anotherlapse of weeks,)
and that Bruce came from Scotland to attend it ; but
that when in London, being warned, he escaped, and
rode back to Scotland; and all this in the depth of
winter, we are driven to remark, that such a story has
incredibility upon its very face. We know that no
such parliament was ever summoned; the fact of any
warning of Bruce's purpose having been given to the
king, was unknown to all the English historians; and
all these journeys, to and from Scotland, in December
and January, were nearly impossible. The simple
statement given by all the writers who lived and
- C C
386 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
wrote in 1306, is consistent and credible ; but
the romance, published a century after, by writers
who, in 1306, were not yet born, is evidently a
fiction.
Bruce, then, by a most foul and premeditated
murder, by a base and cowardly assassination,-had
removed out of his path the principal man in Scotland
who could have counteracted and frustrated his plans.
Comyn was the most powerful baron in Scotland;
and he had been, only a year or two previous, the
regent of the kingdom. Had Bruce risen in rebellion
while Comyn was alive, the latter would have re-
minded the Scottish nobles and people of their recent
submission to Edward, and of all the evils which
previous rebellion had brought upon their country.
He would have reminded them, also, that if they still
desired a Scottish king, one of the Baliols, father or
son, possessed the hereditary right, and that, after
the Baliol, his own name came before that of Bruce.
The influence of such a man, at such a moment, must
obviously have presented a serious obstacle to Bruce's
success. This obstacle, by one bold and unscrupulous
stroke, he had now cleared out of his way;-“pro-
posing to himself,” like Napoleon in modern times,
“a brilliant career, without any scruple concerning
the means.”
“The die was now cast,” observes Mr. Tytler.
“ Bruce had, with his own hand, assassinated the first
noble in the realm, in a place of tremendous sanctity.
He had stained the high altar with blood, and had
directed against himself the resentment of the power-
ful friends and Vassals of the murdered earl.” “He
must now either become a fugitive and an outlaw, or
raise open banner against Edward.”
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 387
There can be no doubt that Bruce had weighed
these chances beforehand. The inveigling his victim
into “a place of tremendous sanctity,” into which he
naturally came unarmed, and there falling upon him,
shews clearly a “foregone conclusion.” The chief
man in England, he well knew, was incapacitated by
age and disease, and he had now murdered the chief
man in Scotland. These obstacles removed, for all the
rest he relied on his own skill and audacity; his good
sword, and his strong right arm. And the issue
shewed, that his calculations were just and accurate;
and “the power of intellect without conscience ’’ was
once more proved to be sufficient to achieve great
earthly and temporary success.
He repaired forthwith to Lochmaben Castle, where
he was at least safe from any sudden pursuit of the
Comyns. From thence he immediately despatched
letters to every friend who was likely to give him any
aid. Of these, the earls of Athol and Lennox, the
bishops of Glasgow, St. Andrew's, and Athol, and
about fourteen others of some rank, as knights or
barons, quickly joined his standard. With these few
supporters, “he had the courage,” says Fordun, “to
raise his hand, not only against the king of England
and his allies, but against the whole accumulated
power of Scotland.”
This confession, from the pen of Scotland's first
historian,—himself a profound admirer of Bruce,—
decides one question. It was not in obedience to
Scotland's call that Bruce took up arms; “the
whole accumulated power of Scotland” was opposed
to his enterprise. The cause he undertook was simply
his own cause ; not that of Scotland. He had said
to the Scottish people—(to use the language of
C C 3
388 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
Matthew of Westminster)—“Make me your king, and
I will deliver you from the tyranny of the English.”
The response he received was the adherence of two
earls, three bishops, and fourteen knights or barons.
The dissentients were so numerous as to amount, in
Fordun's view, to “the whole accumulated power of
Scotland.”
Still, however insignificant the support he received,
and however evident it might be, that the movement
had no other origin or purpose than the gratification
of Bruce's personal ambition, he had now gone too
far to recede. Not even flight could save him, for
who in France or Italy would shelter one who had
committed such sacrilege 2 He therefore boldly took
the only course which remained open. Three or four
weeks sufficed to collect together a sufficient force,
and on the 24th or the 25th of March, Bruce rode to
Glasgow, and from thence, on the 27th, to Scone,
where, in the accustomed spot, he received from the
bishops some kind of a coronation. Some robes were
provided by the bishop of Glasgow ; a slight coronet
of gold, “probably borrowed,” says Mr. Tytler,
supplied the place of the ancient crown of Scotland;
and a banner wrought with the royal arms was
delivered by Wishart to the new king ; who, beneath
it, received the homage of his few adherents, as
“Robert the first.” On the second day after the
ceremony, a repetition of the scene took place. The
earls of Fife had long enjoyed the privilege of placing
the kings of Scotland, at their coronation, upon the
throne. The present earl was with Edward in Eng-
land; but his sister, the countess of Buchan, was an
enthusiastic partisan of Bruce; and, hearing of the
intended ceremony, she rushed to Scone to offer her
ASSASSINATION OF COMYN. 389
Services in her brother's room. Bruce could not
afford to slight or disappoint any adherent; and
hence, simply to gratify her, the coronation was per-
formed over again, and she was allowed the privilege
upon which she set so much value.
The new king then began a progress through such
parts of Scotland as were likely to favor his pre-
tensions; seizing the royal castles, driving away the
English officers, and asserting his rights as king
Wherever he could find an opening. But his party,
Mr. Tytler admits, “was small; the Comyns possessed
the greatest power in Scotland ; and many earls and
barons, who had suffered in the late war, preferred
the quiet of submission to the hazard of insurrec-
tion and revolt.” In fact, as we have seen Fordun
admitting, the rebellion was not a popular one.
Bruce had a far smaller party than either Wallace or
Comyn had gathered, and if a couple of years of life
and vigour had been granted to Edward, the suppres-
sion of this third revolt would have proved an easier
task than the defeat of either of the former two. Of
Bruce's method of proceeding we have a sample in a
document still extant, in which the earl of Strathern
describes the mode in which he had been dealt with.
This is a memorial, addressed by the earl to king
Edward, in explanation of his position. In it the
earl states, that as soon as Bruce was made king, he
sent letters of credence to the earl, by the abbot of
Inchaffrayn. The abbot urged the earl to repair
forthwith to Bruce, to perform homage and fealty.
“Nay,” said the earl, “I have nothing to do with
him.” Thereupon Bruce and Athol, with a power,
entered Strathern, and occupied Foulis. Bruce sent
the earl a safe conduct, to repair to him. He did so,
390 ASSASSINATION OF COMYN.
and on refusing to pay homage, he was carried to
Inchmecolmec. Here he found sir Robert Boyd,
who advised Bruce, in his presence, to behead him,
the earl, and to grant away the lands of Strathern.
On hearing this, he was frightened, and did their will,
and then they let him go”.
Tidings of all these proceedings, of Comyn's
murder; of Bruce's coronation; and of the treason
of Lennox and Athol, of Wishart and of the two
other bishops, reached Edward at Winchester, in
Lent, and shortly before Easter in 1306. Had there
been any truth in the stories told by Barbour, Fordun,
and Wyntoun, of Bruce's escape and flight to Scot-
land, in the January preceding, we should have found,
before this, traces of Edward’s foresight and energy,
in the writs and other documents which such occur-
rences would have drawn forth. But no such traces
are to be met with. This of itself abundantly proves,
that the narratives of Barbour and Fordun are stuffed
with fictions.
The intelligence came upon the king as a surprise;
and it awakened in him feelings of the greatest indig-
nation. As a knight and a soldier, accustomed to
the laws of honor, an act of premeditated assassina-
tion,-the assault of several armed men upon a single
nobleman, whom they had induced to come without
arms to an amicable meeting, would naturally fill his
mind with horror and detestation. As a sincerely
religious man, who, in 1289, had abstained from
violating the sanctity of a church, even to take a
notorious criminal from its protection, the ruthless
murder of a nobleman on the steps of the altar must
* Palgrave's Documents, p. cxxxix.
EXASPERATION OF EDWARD. 391
increase, if it were possible, his just indignation. But
evidently, that feature of the case which most exas-
perated him, was, the perfidy and treachery which
had marked the whole transaction. The two chief
actors in this tragedy had been Bruce and Wishart;
and it had been to these two men, above all others,
that he had looked for the quiet settlement of Scot-
land. They had come from Scotland professedly to
assist him. They had sat at his council-table for
weeks together, and, doubtless, had often taken their
places at his festive board, and shared with him in
the summer enjoyments of his Richmond retirement.
And now, it was not merely that they had fallen off
from him, but that they had proved, by the desperate
course which they adopted immediately on their re-
turn, that all the pretended zeal and loyalty in the
October preceding, had been utterly false and treacher-
ous. Edward was well versed in the language of the
psalms, and he would naturally be inclined to cry
out, with David, “Yeal even mine own familiar
friend, in whom I trusted, which did eat of my bread,
hath lift up his heel against me.”
This perfidy is made the especial charge against
both the bishops, in an accusation laid by Edward
before the pope. In this document, the king recounts
a long list of perjuries. Thus, of Wishart, bishop of
Glasgow, the king alleges,
That when he, the king, was first called into Scot-
land, about the matter of the succession, he, the
bishop, took the oath to the king, as superior lord,
and was appointed by him as one of the guardians of
the realm ; yet, when Baliol was put into possession
of the kingdom, he, the bishop, aided and advised
him in making war upon England.
392 EXASPERATION OF EDWARH).
Next, that upon Baliol's submission, the bishop
came to the king at Elgin, and prayed forgiveness:
and took an oath on the consecrated host, on the
gospels, and upon the black rood of Scotland, that
he would be faithful and true to the king, and would
never counsel anything to his hurt or damage. And
that, at the parliament held at Berwick, he took the
oath of fealty for the third time. Yet when the
king was gone to Flanders, the bishop abetted Wal-
lace, and came forth into the field against the king.
Again, when the rebellion seemed to decline, the
bishop once more submitted himself to the king, at
Irvine, in July 1297. Yet, in less than a month after-
wards, he had again confederated himself with Wallace
and the rebels, encouraging them as heretofore.
Next, the king having returned from Flanders,
the bishop came before him at Holme Cultram, and
prayed the king’s grace and mercy, and did then, for
the fourth time, take the oath of fealty upon the host,
gospels, rood, &c., &c. Yet while this oath was yet
fresh, the bishop assembled all his strength, and
marched against the king's army.
Again, the rebellion being suppressed, the bishop
came before the king at Cambuskenneth, and prayed
grace and mercy, and forswore himself a fifth time,
upon the host, gospels, &c., &c. And at the parlia-
ment at St. Andrew’s, he took the same oath a sixth
time. And yet, after all this, within eight days after
the murder of Comyn, he gave Bruce plenary abso-
lution,-thus shewing his approval of the sacrilege
and the murder. He also in every way promoted
and encouraged the rebellion, in violation of the oath
which he had, on six different occasions, taken.
Similar are the complaints made by the king of
EXASPERATION OF EDWARD. 393
the perjuries of the bishop of St. Andrew’s, and the
bishop of Elgin or Moray. To this general faithless-
ness, on the part of the leaders in the rebellion,
Wyntoun, in his Cronykyl, published in the next cen-
tury, pleads guilty, saying of Wallace's day,+
“For in his time, I heard well say,
That fickle they were, all time, of fay” (faith).
But the disgust and exasperation which this per-
petual perfidy would naturally excite in an honorable
mind, will be obvious to every one. And we have
no doubt that it was this feeling which induced the
inscription on the king's tomb, PACTUM SERVA,
an inscription which doubtless was placed there by
his own command.
All the troubles of Edward’s life had arisen from
the faithlessness of those with whom he was concerned.
David of Wales, Philip of France, Baliol, Bruce,—all,
in their turn, first swore to him, and then shame-
lessly violated their oaths. Hence, as his last word,
he desires this injunction or maxim, “KEEP YoUR
COVENANT,”—to be engraven on his monument; and
there, in Westminster Abbey, it still remains.
Meanwhile, the immediate result of all this per-
fidy is seen, in the entire change which is perceptible
in Edward’s policy. For thirty years he had been
singularly merciful, insomuch that Lingard, as we
have just seen, declares it to be “difficult to point out
any conqueror who had displayed equal lenity.” But
there is truth in the maxim, “Beware of the anger of
a patient man.” Edward was not naturally a patient
man, but he had the command of his own Spirit; he
loved justice tempered with mercy; and one of his
394 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
chief principles of action had been shewn in his
hasty exclamation in Segrave's case, implying clearly
that to seek his mercy, in all ordinary cases, was to
find it. But now he evidently felt, that the time for
shewing lenity was past. There is a degree of stern-
ness, mingled probably with some feeling of exaspe-
ration, in the acts of the last year of his life. But
his love of justice never varied, and cruelty was a
thing to him unknown.
“Although broken in body,” says Mr. Tytler,
“this great king was, in his mind and spirit, yet
vigorous and unimpaired; as was soon evinced by
the rapidity and decision of his orders, and the sub-
sequent magnitude of his preparations. He instantly
sent to strengthen the frontier-garrisons of Berwick
and Carlisle, with the intention of securing the English
borders from invasion; and he appointed the earl of
Pembroke, with lord Robert Clifford and Henry Percy,
to march into Scotland.” It is clear, also, that the
whole tone of the king's mind and language was
changed, and his purpose was everywhere openly
avowed, to take a signal vengeance on all who had in
any way been concerned in the murder of Comyn.
Yet the death of that nobleman had deprived
him of no favorite, of no intimate personal friend or
counsellor. Between this Scottish baron and the king
there had been very little intercourse. For four or
five years Comyn had kept the field against Edward;
while Bruce had been professing the greatest zeal in
his service. But Edward recognized in Comyn afrank
and earnest opponent, who carried on the war until
Submission seemed to be a duty, and then surrendered
his sword, accepted peace, gave his fealty to the king,
and kept his covenant. And Edward saw this noble-
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 395
man treacherously murdered by that Robert Bruce
who had often sat at his table and professed attach-
ment to him, murdered, too, merely because he would
not join in treason. Hence the king's vehement de-
cision seemed at Once to be taken, that for Bruce
and his abettors, there was to be no more mercy.
The blood of Comyn should be heavily avenged.
And it is quite evident that his feelings were
generally shared by his people. A grand religious
ceremony was announced to take place at Whitsun-
tide in Westminster Abbey. There, the king pur-
posed to confer knighthood on the young prince, and
on other young men of rank, his companions. Nearly
three hundred of the younger nobility and gentry
were candidates for this honor, and eager to take
their part in the new enterprise. So vast was the
concourse of people in the abbey, that some persons
were crushed to death in the throng. The king was
scarcely able to perform his part ; but at the banquet
which followed, he took a solemn oath, according to
the laws of chivalry, that he would proceed to Scot-
land, there to avenge the death of John Comyn, and
to punish the perfidy of the Scots; and that, when
that work was done, he would embark for the Holy
Land, and leave his body in that hallowed soil. Soon
after this solemnity, the young prince, with the new-
made knights, his companions, and a considerable
force of horse and foot, began the march to Scotland,
leaving the king, who was now in his sixty-eighth
year, to follow more at leisure. The rendezvous was
appointed for July 8, at Carlisle.
But before either the king or the prince could
arrive in Scotland, the new rebellion seemed nearly to
have reached its close. The surprise of Roslyn had
396 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
been reversed, and a disastrous defeat had reduced
Bruce to the condition of a fugitive. The earl of
Pembroke commanded a small English force at Perth,
then called Johnstown. Bruce, having now gathered
to himself something amounting to an army, marched
towards the place, and sent a challenge to the earl to
come out and fight him. The earl sent him for answer,
that the day was now too far advanced, but that he
would give him battle on the morrow. The Scotch
retired, and incautiously broke up their array, and
began to prepare their suppers, Suddenly, the cry
was heard, that the enemy was upon them. Pembroke,
on second thoughts, disliking to appear backward,
had marshalled his forces, and marched out to find
the Scots. Bruce, still a young commander, had
neglected all the usual precautions, and his troops,
taken entirely by surprise, were thrown into utter
confusion. Six or seven men of note were taken
prisoners, and the loss of the Scotch is said to have
been 7,000 men; in fact, the army, such as it was,
was annihilated. Bruce himself, with a few friends,
escaped to the coast, and fled to hide themselves in
the western isles. Here, says Fordun, “he was re-
duced to such necessity, that he passed a long period
without any other food than herbs, and roots, and
water. He wandered barefoot; now hiding alone in
some of the islands; now chased by his enemies, and
despised and ridiculed by his own vassals*.” “He
and his friends,” says Mr. Tytler, “began to feel the
miseries of outlaws. Compelled to harbour in the
* “Bruce was so beaten by ill-fortune, that he was left alone
to take passage to the Isles with two mariners in a boat, who
asked him, ‘if he had any tidings of Robert Bruce 2’”—Scala
Chronica, App. p. 287.
WAR IN SCOTLAND. 397
hills, deprived of the common comforts of life ; he
and his followers presented a ragged and wretched
appearance. Their shoes were worn off their feet by
constant toil; and hunting, instead of pastime, be-
came a necessity”.” The English army, scouring
the country, picked up all the fugitives they could find,
and the chief power of Scotland was opposed to the
insurrection. The lord of Ilorn beset the passes, and
had nearly captured Bruce. The earl of Ross seized
Bruce's wife and daughter, and handed them over
to the English. The bishops of Glasgow and St.
Andrew’s, the abbot of Scone, the lord Seton, the earl
of Athol, and the countess of Buchan, all were suc-
cessively found, and brought in as prisoners. The
king had now arrived at Dumfries, and the prince,
after scouring the country, came to Perth. Bruce,
now wholly disheartened, sent messengers to the
young Edward, to learn whether his submission would
be accepted. But the king, when he heard of it,
was incensed with the prince, for holding any cor-
respondence with “that traitor.” We thus see the
distinction drawn between his case and Wallace's.
Wallace, after all his cruelties, was “to be received,
if he chose to submit himself;” but Bruce's per-
fidy, his sacrilege, and his treacherous murder of
Comyn, had put him beyond the pale of mercy.
The king had sworn to avenge Comyn's murder,
and hence, with Bruce, no communication was to
be held. º
There was now no visible insurrection in Scotland,
the chief rebel being a mere fugitive among the hills.
IHence, in October, we find the king at Lanercost in
* Tytler, vol. i., p. 222.
398 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
Cumberland, where a council was held, and a delibe-
rate sentence passed, with reference to the rebellion
and its chief abettors.
This ordinance, in which various Scottish writers
profess to find cruelty, is merely identical with what,
wnder the like circumstances, would be passed at the
present day. The parties arraigned had, most of them,
been rebels in past years, and had found mercy.
They had, in most cases, sworn fealty to Edward
again and again, and had asked and received pardon.
Their lives and their lands had been forfeited, and the
forfeiture had not been exacted. Yet, after all this
lenity, they were again found in rebellion ; and now
with the added guilt of murder and sacrilege. They
had slain the first nobleman in Scotland, treacherously
and perfidiously, and “in a place of tremendous
sanctity.” What, in our own time, would be the
judgment passed on such criminals 2—or rather,
what has been the punishment adjudged to such
criminals, within the last two years, in our Indian
possessions ?
The Ordinance of Lanercost declared, “That all
who were guilty, or were abettors, of the murder of
John Comyn, should be hanged; and that all who
advised or assented to such murder, should have the
same punishment.” “And that all who were aiding
or assisting Robert Bruce, or were procuring or per-
Suading the people to rise, contrary to law, should be
imprisoned during the king's pleasure.”
Could queen Victoria, under like circumstances,
be advised to pursue any less severe course ? Yet, for
this mere administration of justice, is the king charged
by some writers with “cruelty ”
WAR IN SCOTLAND. - 399
Doubtless he had now deliberately laid aside that
singular lenity with which, for ten years past, he had
treated the Scotch, and had become convinced that,
With respect to some among them at least, mercy would
be no longer consistent with a proper regard to justice.
Yet surely, the second of these provisos, which merely
ordains for actual rebels “imprisonment during the
king's pleasure,” is one seldom equalled for its tempe-
rance and lenity. There was also perceptible, in some
of his decisions, that notion of apportioning the punish-
ment to the offence, which was observable in former
years. Thus, the countess of Buchan had, careless of
Bruce's perfidy and recklessness of crime in the murder
of Comyn, rushed forward with zeal to take part in his
Coronation. She was now a prisoner. The king said,
“Since she has not struck with the sword, let her not
be stricken with the sword; but as a penalty for the
treasonable coronation in which she took part, let her
be shut up in a cage made in the form of a crown,
that she may be a spectacle and a reproach".” The
wife of Bruce, being also a prisoner, was sent to
England as a captive. These two instances of seve-
rity are fastened upon by some writers as shewing
“windictiveness.” Yet the countess of Buchan was
plainly guilty of treason; and to have allowed Bruce's
wife to return free into Scotland, would evidently
have been an act of imprudence. But the censors of
Edward's conduct neglect to remark, that the coun-
tess's cage was ordered “to have all the conveniences
of a handsome chamber;” and that Bruce's wife was
sent to the king's manor of Bruntwick; with seven
* Matthew of Westminster.
400 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
attendants, and liberty to ride out whenever she
chose”.
But with the male prisoners the Ordinance of
Lanercost was carried into effect. Nigel Bruce was
brought to trial at Berwick, hanged and beheaded.
Christopher and Alexander Seton, both Englishmen,
shared the same Sentence. These had been all con-
cerned, in various ways, in the murder. The earl of
Athol had taken part in the coronation of Bruce, and
had been in arms at the affair of Johnstown. He
attempted to escape by Sea, but was driven back by a
storm, and captured. Sir Simon Fraser was the same
person who had cruelly murdered Ralph the cofferer
at the battle of Roslyn, in 1302. He had received
pardon for the offences of that period, but was now
found again in arms. These two were tried in West-
minster Hall, and executed, and their heads placed
on London bridge. “If we consider these men,”
says Lingard, “as champions of freedom, they may
demand our pity ; but their execution cannot sub-
stantiate the charge of cruelty against Edward.
Some were murderers, all had repeatedly broken
their oaths of fealty, and had repeatedly been ad-
mitted to pardon.”
The winter now reigned, and Bruce was hidden in
the little isle of Rachrin. On the approach of spring
he surprised the isle of Arran, and from thence
sent spies into his own country of Annandale. The
English in and near Turnberry Castle were cantoned
in careless Security, hearing nothing of any enemy;
and it was not difficult to take them by surprise.
Lord Henry Percy shut himself up in the castle; but
* Palgrave's Documents, p. clzxxix.
WAR IN SCOTLAND.
he was soon relieved by the arrival of sir Roger St.
John with a thousand men. About this time, two of
Bruce's brothers, Thomas and Alexander, having
collected about seven hundred men in Ireland, landed
in Galloway. But they were met on landing by Mac-
dowal, a Scottish chief, who remained true to his
oath. The Irish auxiliaries were routed and scattered,
and both the Bruces, with sir Reginald Crawford, were
taken prisoners. They were sent to Carlisle, and,
having been concerned in Comyn's murder, were
immediately brought to trial and executed. The
whole of the executions on the scaffold which took
place in consequence of this rebellion, included about
sixteen or eighteen persons. Most of these had
been concerned in Comyn's murder, either as actual
parties, or as accessories. Yet is it insisted upon by
some writers, that these punishments partook of
cruelty. These critics, however, have no censure to
spare for such atrocities as “the Douglas larder,”
which was perpetrated on Palm Sunday. Sir James
Douglas, one of Bruce's adherents, surprised the
English garrison of Douglas while in church. He
butchered them all, after Wallace's manner, and as
he had no strength wherewith to hold the castle, he
raised a great pile of wood, threw the bodies of the
English garrison upon it, and then setting it on fire,
consumed the whole”. Such deeds as these were not
calculated to soften the king's disposition, or to dis-
pose him to lenity when any of Bruce's immediate
accomplices fell into his hands. And when, indeed,
was such a rebellion as this suppressed,—as, during
Edward’s lifetime, it was suppressed,—with So small
# Tytler, vol. i., p. 235.
* D D

402 WAR IN SCOTLAND.
an amount of judicial punishment 2 Four centuries
later, another Scottish rebellion was quelled, while
England was guided by the councils of Pelham, Hard-
wicke, Stephen Fox, Granville, and the elder Pitt.
And these statesmen did not shrink from exhibiting,
in various places, eighty ghastly heads, or from be-
heading, on Tower hill, lords Kilmarnock and Bal-
merino, and finally, lord Lovat, a man whose years
Were fourScore* !
The spring of 1307 was now advancing, and Bruce,
whose valour and personal prowess were of the high-
est order, found many opportunities of harassing the
English by surprises and sudden encounters. His
success, however, was not unvaried. On one occasion,
he lost his banner, and was in the greatest peril of
capture or death. In May, he ventured to stand the
assault of the earl of Pembroke, and by strongly post-
ing his men, armed with long spears, he defeated the
earl’s attempt to break his line, and drove back the
English, who had only cavalry to oppose to his
spears. Three days after, he encountered the earl of
Gloucester, whose force he also routed, and who re-
treated into the castle of Ayr. But the king, hearing
that Bruce was in the field, sent a force from Carlisle,
before which Bruce retreated. “He then took re-
fuge in the marshes and forests, where the English
found it impossible to follow him f.” And thus stood
matters at the opening of July 1307.
But now drew near that great event, for which,
there can be no doubt, Bruce, had long been eagerly
looking, and which entirely changed the whole po-
sition of affairs. The king, as our readers will
probably have observed, had never made his appear-
ance in the field, during the whole of the fifteen
* See Appendix N. # Matthew of Westminster, 1807.
DEATH OF THE KING. 403
months which had elapsed since the first outbreak of
the rebellion. He had found it possible to get as
far as Carlisle and Dumfries, but Bruce knew full
Well that his active career as a military commander
Was for ever terminated. The last few months of his
life presented merely a painful struggle, between a
still vigorous mind and a decaying body. During all
the spring of 1307, a dysentery had detained and
Weakened him; and the natural ardour of his tempera-
ment must have conspired with the disease. His very
longing for the active life to which he had been so
long accustomed, supplied fuel to the inward fire
which was already consuming him. Bruce's reap-
pearance in the field, and his occasional successes,
made any longer delay appear intolerable. Persuad-
ing himself, at the beginning of July, that his disease
was abating, he offered up the litter in which he had
hitherto travelled, in the cathedral of Carlisle, and
mounted his horse for a new expedition into Scotland.
But the decaying body was unable to answer the call
of that powerful spirit. The effort merely brought
on, at once, that termination of his disease which
might otherwise have been delayed for months. In
the course of the next two or three days, he was unable
to proceed more than Some six or seven miles, reach-
ing the village of Burgh on the Sands, where he pro-
bably halted at the close of the first or second day’s
march, and where, on the 7th of that month, he died.
His last hours were spent in vainly endeavouring
to impress upon his son some obvious lessons of pru-
dence and firm resolve, lessons which were indeed
greatly needed; but which the young prince seemed
mentally incapable of receiving. He enjoined upon
him never to permit the return of Gaveston”. He
* See Appendix O.
D D 3
404: DEATH OF THE KING..
urged him, forthwith, and once for all, to put down
the Scottish revolt; the means of which were all
prepared and ready for his hand. So earnestly and
enthusiastically did he feel on this point, that he
desired his son to carry, after his death, his bones at
the head of his army;-so that he, before whose
charge no Scottish army had ever been able to stand,
might, even after death, be still in some sort present
in the first shock of the battle.
But he spoke to ears which had already been
closed, by luxury and dissipation, against all high
and noble counsels. Not one of his commands was
obeyed. The young king no sooner saw the power
and splendour of royalty within his grasp, than he
turned his back, at once, on the calls of honor and
duty. The great and all-important object of putting
down the insurrection in Scotland, was disregarded.
The forward march was countermanded, the anticipa-
tions of Bruce were fully realized, and the union of
the two kingdoms, the great object of Edward’s
labors during the last ten years, was forgotten and
practically abandoned. The remains of the greatest
king that England had ever seen, were quietly removed
to Westminster, and were placed near to his father
Henry and to his beloved Eleanor. A simple tomb
received that noble heart, with the brief inscription,
EDWARDUS PRIMUS : SCOTORUM MALLEUS :
HIC EST : MCCCVIII.
PACTUM SERVA.
The death of Edward may be said to have ensured
the ultimate success of Bruce's ambitious enterprise.
BRUCE. 405
The two greatest knights in Europe at that period,
says Froissart, were king Edward and Robert Bruce.
On the removal of the first, the second found no equal
in the field. Not only so, but there was opposed to
him, in Edward’s room, the weakest and most incom-
petent monarch that ever sat on the throne of England.
It was nearly inevitable, therefore, that he should
entirely succeed in the object to which he had devoted
himself. He decided the question of “the indepen-
dence of Scotland” at Bannockburn ; inflicting on
the English the greatest defeat which they had re-
ceived since the battle of Hastings. He continued,
after this, in quiet possession of his Scottish throne
for about fifteen years, and then died, comparatively
young, of what was called a “leprosy.” But valour
Crowned by success has gained, as it usually does,
the applause of the multitude, and Bruce is generally
lauded for his “patriotism ;” while Edward, whose
plans he succeeded in frustrating, is censured for his
“ambition.” The practical question, however, for
us, now far removed from these scenes of strife, is,
whether this judgment ought not to be reversed; and
the praise of patriotism given to Edward, while the
blame belonging to ambition is awarded to Bruce.
Of the two principles or theories, respectively
maintained by Edward and by Bruce, little need
now be said. When Edward, as an unfriendly
historian remarks,—“saw that before England could
mount very high in the scale of nations, the whole
island must be one undivided power, instead of
three,” his sagacity merely discerned, five centuries
ago, a political necessity respecting which there has
been no difference of opinion for generations past.
We can all now see, at a glance, the Wretchedness
406 BRUCE.
and weakness which England must have suffered,
if, in the days of Louis XIV. and Napoleon, Scot-
land had been an independent state, always ready
to take part with France. Nor would the whole,
or the chief part, of the misery and peril have been
England's. Scotland, when, as of old, eagerly
uniting with France to humble England, was ever
the dwarf going to battle by the side of the giant.
Of the hard blows she received her full share; while
the glory and advantage, when there was any, usually
fell to the lot of her ally. -
The “independence” which Bruce was supposed
to have “windicated,” required, for its satisfactory
maintenance, the continuance of those peculiar cir-
cumstances under which he had achieved it :—that
is, that Scotland should be ruled over by an able
prince, and England by a foolish one. So Soon as
this exceptional state of things came to an end, then
began a long series of disasters for Scotland; and,
if Edward III. had possessed a tythe of his grand-
sire's sagacity, the whole result of Bruce's enterprise
would have vanished almost before his tomb had
closed. Alison, after noticing Bannockburn, con-
fesses, that “never, at any subsequent period, was
Scotland able to withstand the more powerful arms
of the English yeomanry. Thenceforward, her mili-
tary history is little more than a melancholy cata-
logue of continued defeats.” And this was inevitable.
Assuming the two nations to be equally brave, the
English were usually the better armed, the better
equipped, and were far more numerous. How could it
be otherwise; seeing that the one nation was more
than twice as populous and wealthy as the other ?
And hence, when Bruce had disappeared, and the
exceptional circumstances of his day had ceased, the
BRUCE. 407
English soon balanced the account for Bannockburn
at Halidon-hill; while at Dupplin-moor, at Durham,
at Hamildon-hill, at Flodden, and at Pinkie, they
inflicted on the Scots five other great defeats. In
these six battles, the loss of the Scots is computed
at nearly 100,000 men. If we assume the loss of
the English to have been one-third of this number,
and then add to the reckoning a reasonable estimate
for skirmishes and continual “border-raids,” we shall
find that the two nations lost, between them, nearly
a quarter of a million of valuable lives; while the
destruction of property defies computation. Such
were the visible and tangible fruits of the success
of Bruce's ambitious enterprise !
But did Scotland obtain, in recompense for these
sacrifices, any liberties, immunities, or practical ad-
vantages, which should have reconciled her to all
this carnage and desolation ? The answer must
unquestionably be in the negative. Some writers,
indeed, of the unscrupulous class, have striven to
make out a justification for Bruce, by describing
Scotland as a conquered nation, reduced to the most
servile bondage, until he gave her deliverance. But
all respectable historians, even among the Scots
themselves, now admit this to be a mere fiction.
Thus, Mr. Tytler says, of Edward’s first settlement
of Scotland, in 1296, “The measures he adopted
were equally politic and just.” “No wanton or un-
necessary act of rigour was committed; no capricious
changes introduced.” And on the second settlement,
in 1304-5, we have seen that Edward gave his confi-
dence chiefly to Wishart, Moubray, and Robert Bruce.
He thus left the measures to be adopted to be indi-
cated by those who were most nearly concerned.
But what was the condition into which Bruce's
408 BRUCE,
success brought Scotland 2 Let any one patiently
study the history of that country, from 1330 till
1600, and say, if the state of the realm was such as
to redound to the honor of its “deliverer.” Of one
period (1392) sir Walter Scott thus writes, “To use
a scriptural expression, “every one did that which
seemed right in his own eyes, as if there had been no
king in Scotland.” Of another period he says, “If
we look at Scotland generally during the minority, it
forms a dark and disgusting spectacle” (p. 283). And
Mr. Tyther says, “The nation had been reduced to
the lowest pitch of impoverishment in every branch of
public wealth” (v. ii., p. 75); and again, “The pride
and power of the feudal barons had risen to a pitch
destructive of all regular subordination ” (p. 85);
and again, “Scotland seemed to be rapidly sinking
under her accumulated distresses” (p. 94).
It was not, then, for Scotland’s good, any more
than it was in obedience to Scotland’s call, that
Bruce raised his standard, and became the leader of
a successful rebellion. His motives and objects
were identical with those which brought William I.
and Stephen to England, and carried Simon de
Montfort to Toulouse. To cite again the words
of sir Walter Scott, the leading idea of a Norman
knight was, “to wander from land to land in quest
of renown, and to gain earldoms or even kingdoms
by his sword.” He was “neither by birth nor man-
ners accessible to the emotions which constitute
patriotism.” It was for his own glory and renown
that Bruce fought his way to the crown of Scotland,
and thereby perpetuated a state of division and alien-
ation between England and Scotland, which was
deeply injurious to both. It is this which constitutes
BRUCE. 409
the vast and all-important distinction, which nothing
can obliterate, between the heroism of a Cincinnatus or
a Wellington, and the mere valour and success of a
Caesar or a Napoleon. The former fights and conquers
for his country, the latter, for himself.
But was Bruce's enterprise successful, in more
than a transient and momentary degree, even when
viewed in a selfish and unpatriotic light;-even when
regarded with reference to his own interests? Surely
not,
He aimed at the crown of Scotland, and he gained
it. But at what a price! He was already a Scottish
earl, and an English baron, and the lord of large
estates in both kingdoms. He had four gallant
brothers, who emulated his valour and his distinction.
Possessing Edward’s favor, there was scarcely any
elevation of which a subject was capable, to which
he might not have aspired. But he chose a more
perilous and criminal course, and he experienced
Some of its most fearful consequences.
Of the five gallant knights who bore the name of
Bruce in March 1306, four had fallen by violent deaths
before the year 1318 had closed. Three of these,
who had aided their brother in the murder of Comyn,
fell on the scaffold within the first twelvemonth;
the fourth, Edward, following in his brother’s foot-
steps, resolved to find for himself a kingdom in Ire-
land, as Robert had done in Scotland, and he perished
in the attempt. And now, he who had led his brothers
to their early graves, was left alone ; his wife for
several years being a captive in England. At last
he, too, quitted life in 1331, by a loathsome disease,
leaving an incompetent son to spend a large portion
of his life in an English prison. On this son's death,
410 BRUCE.
the line of Bruce on the Scottish throne, ended, and the
line of Stewart, by marriage with his only daughter,
succeeded,—a line perhaps Scarcely to be paralleled
among those who have worn a crown, for disaster,
wretchedness, and disgrace*. --
Bruce, then, by unrighteously coveting that which
was another'sf, had involved his whole family in
guilt, and danger, and suffering; and had inflicted
upon two nations great and lasting calamities. And
against this imputation there is no valid defence.
The pretence of “patriotism" was, as we have seen,
wholly fictitious and hypocritical ; but the crimes
by which he “waded through slaughter to a throne”
were real and substantial. His ingratitude for num-
berless favors and kindnesses lavished upon him by
Edward, and his reckless disregard of many solemn
oaths and voluntary engagements, all reduce his cha-
racter to the level of one, whom neither vows nor ob-
ligations could bind: while his base and perfidious
assassination of an unarmed man, merely because he
stood between him and the throne, ranks him, at once,
with those bold but unprincipled politicians, to whom
* Robert III, died of a broken heart: James I. was murdered:
James II. accidentally killed: James III. was murdered: James
IV. died on Flodden-field: James V. of a broken heart. Then
came the calamitous and disgraceful days of Mary, and her death
upon the scaffold; James's troubled reign, and his son's bloody
death; the degraded life of Charles II. ; and at last, in his bro-
ther's person, the final expulsion of this wretched family.
# If Edward's claim and Baliol's resignation were valid, then
the throne was lawfully Edward's. But if any Scotchman con-
tested this point, then the right, in his eyes, would still vest in
the descendants of David, earl of Huntingdon. And of these,
Baliol and Baliol's son stood first; then Comyn, who was the son
of Baliol's sister; and only in the third place stood Bruce.
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 411
crime presents no obstacle, and for whom conscience
appears to have no warnings.
It only remains that we add a few words on the
character of the truly great man to whose memory
this volume has been dedicated. And these words
will be limited to a very few points.
There is no dissentient voice among the numerous
writers who have dealt with the English history,
as to the indubitable fact, that Edward was, in the
common acceptation of the words, “a great king.”
Even those who make no attempt to conceal their
national prejudices, are compelled to admire “this
great statesman and commander”,”—this “most sa-
gacious and resolute of English princesſ,” — this
“model of a politic and warlike kingſ.” But they
strive to deprive him of his rightful honor and
esteem, by suggesting or insinuating charges of
“ambition,” of “injustice,” and of “craft and dis-
simulation.” These accusations, we must again repeat,
were unheard of among Englishmen, until various
Scottish writers undertook to amend our current
histories, and until they imported among us their
own prejudices, dislikes, and animosities. And now,
a serious and dispassionate study of the subject, has
led us to the belief, that all these charges are desti-
tute of foundation; and that an enormous wrong has
been done to the memory of this first of English
kings. And if this be so, the subject is evidently
one which ought to command our most serious atten-
tion. A hero of the second order, one who wins
* Mackintosh. , t Scott. : Hume.
412 CHARACTER OF EDWARD.
battles, and conquers kingdoms, without much regard
to either justice or mercy, might be assailed with-
out exciting much interest in his behalf; for history
furnishes us with an abundant supply of “great
men’’ of this description ; and the loss of one of
them from his accustomed place, need excite neither
alarm nor sorrow. But of those who have been truly
great, those who have refused to rely on “the powers
of intellect without conscience,”—the number has
hitherto been but small; and the undeserved removal
of one of these from his rightful place in the annals
of the past, is a moral injury inflicted on ourselves
and our children.
Our own sincere conviction is, that the view of
Edward's character taken by all English writers for
three centuries, was substantially the true one, and
that he merits our admiration, not so much for his
“greatness,” in the Vulgar and popular sense, as
for his real nobleness of heart and soul. A Valiant
swordsman,—the wielder of a terrible battle-axe, like
Richard I., may command a Wondering applause ;
and the able leader of mighty armies, like Caesar or
Napoleon, may reasonably demand a yet higher place;
—but there is no real greatness apart from truth and
honor, from justice and mercy. And it is that highest
kind of heroism, which is compounded of all these,
that we claim for Edward the First.
In the fifteenth century, old Fabian, describing
this king, Says of him,
“This prince was slowe to all manner of strife:
Discrete and wise, and true of his worde :
In arms a giant, term of all his life;
Excellent acts doing by dint of sworde.”
So that this honest and well-informed citizen of
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 413
London, writing one hundred and eighty years after
Edward’s death, and having no conceivable motive for
adulation, awards him honor, in the first place, for
his pacific disposition, his practical wisdom, and his
truth and honesty; and then, but only in the second
place, for his puissance in the field, as a warrior and
Commander. And thus did England long continue to
revere “the good king Edward,” as Froissart terms
him, until another race of historians appeared, who,
having imbibed, from their youth a national dislike to
the conqueror of Scotland, strove to represent him as
“Sagacious and resolute” indeed; but also as a man
of “restless ambition,” and of “craft, injustice, and
fraud.” To all which representations we oppose the
objection, that they rest wholly upon statements made
by writers who had lived two or three generations
after Edward's departure; and who had the most
obvious motives for traducing his memory, and ex-
alting that of his Scottish antagonists.
“That which is first is true,” said Tertullian,—
“ that which is later, is corrupted.” This, which was
spoken of Christian doctrine, is equally true of his-
toric fact. The conception of Edward's character
which all Englishmen received, up to the close of the
seventeenth century, rested upon the facts recorded
by ten or twelve English chroniclers, of at least
average credibility; and who narrated the events of
their own time. They have told us that Edward was
not only a great warrior, a great statesman, and a
great legislator; but that he was backward to engage
in war, wise and temperate in prosecuting it, and
prompt to seize every opportunity of making an hon-
orable peace. They have also depicted him as a firm
and sincere friend ; and as one faithful to all his
414 CHARACTER OF EDWARD,
engagements. These are the features which raise his
character above that of the mere conqueror, or of the
adroit and able statesman. But, as that characteristic
which most distinctly marks the hero, we would indi-
cate the frankness, the earnestness, the true nobleness,
which are apparent in his every action.
We know nothing, in the whole compass of his-
torical literature, more shamefully unjust or untrue,
than the imputations cast upon Edward’s character
by some Scottish writers, of craft, of subtlety, and
an insidious and fraudulent policy. It would be
scarcely more at variance with established facts, to
represent him as a dwarf or a coward. Throughout
his whole life, a frank and noble fearlessness marked
his every step. His objects and purposes being
at all times just and honorable, he was ever ready,
and even eager, to explain and to justify them.
Thus, when opposed to Simon de Montfort, he went
to Kingston to confer with the old earl, even though
it led to Simon’s seizing the opportunity to make
him a prisoner. Not even this lesson could teach
him timidity, for soon after we find, that seeing the
earl’s sons among the hostile force at Gloucester,
he went out, unarmed, to confer with them. Later
in life, when the archbishop contends with him, he
gives him a private and special audience; desiring
him to “say freely what he would,” and listening
with patient attention. Shortly after, an earl opposes
him ; and the king instantly writes to him to say,
that he “wishes to have a private colloquium ” with
him.” The people of London feel the pressure of
war-requisitions; and their sovereign desires them to
meet him at Westminster Hall, where he speaks with
them face to face,—explaining the public necessities,
deploring their burdens, and promising to remedy all
CHARACTER OF EDWARD, 415
grievances as Soon as possible. Soon after, the discon-
tented earls transmit to him a statement of grievances.
He does not prosecute or imprison them; but replies
by a mani'esto of his own, which he transmits to all
the sheriffs for general publication. Thus, through-
out, he never shuts himself up in silence to work out
any Secret purposes; but is ever earnest, sincere,
frank, and open-hearted.
When the Hebrew king of former days asked
God for the gift of “wisdom,” his prayer was heard,
and God gave him “largeness of heart.” And truly
for all, but more especially for a king, real wisdom,
in temporal matters, is always found to be associated
With “largeness of heart.”
But what is the true meaning of the phrase ?—
for it may pass through the ear without leaving on
the mind any distinct impression.
It means precisely the opposite to what Napoleon
Bonaparte meant, when with unintentional naïveté he
exclaimed, “FRANCE –that is, M.E.” The constant
Sentiment of Edward seemed to be, “I —that is,
ENGLAND.” On the one side we have contraction; all .
things made to bend to self: — on the other, we have
eapansion; the individual losing himself in his duty,
in his people. The French emperor would conquer,
overrun, waste France's blood and treasure, in order
to augment the power and glory of “ME,” Napoleon
Bonaparte. The English king, on the other hand,
seemed to merge himself in his people. Of and by
himself he had no existence ; he lived for, and by,
and with them. Thus speaks he, in that remark-
able statute of 1306; in which it is impossible
to doubt that we hear his own voice: — “About this
chiefly is our mind busied without intermission; that
we may provide ease and comfort for our subjects
416 CHARACTER OF EDWARD.
dwelling in our realm ; in whose quietness we have
rest, and in whose tranquillity we are comforted.”
Thus begins and proceeds his whole life. In his
earliest manhood, A.D. 1259, he regards not himself
or the crown chiefly, but “makes it known to the
barons that he will stand by the community, and
will cause the promises which they have made to be
performed.” A few years later, while still only heir to
the crown, we trace his hand, we hear his voice, in
the Statute of Marlborough, which describes the king
his father as “providing for the better estate of
his realm of England, and for the more speedy
administration of justice, as belongeth to the office
of a king.” And this same spirit pervades his
whole course of government and legislation, dur-
ing more than thirty years. In his transactions
with the Welsh princes, there was nothing of the
autocrat. Every step was discussed and ordained
&n a parliament. And when, finally, the survivor of
the two princes was captured, we hear of no sudden
and arbitrary punishment, such as would have taken
place in any of the next twelve reigns; but a par-
liament is convened, especially to decide as to “what
is to be done with the same David.” So, when Philip
of France fraudulently seized upon Guienne, the case
is laid before a parliament. When the earls hand
him a remonstrance in 1297, he replies, “ that not
having his council with him, he could give no reply
on matters of such importance.” When the pope
sends him an arrogant claim, he answers, “that there
were many of the chief men of the kingdom not then
with him, without whose advice he could give no final
answer.” The same year, in summoning the parlia-
ment of Lincoln, he writes to the sheriff of Cumberland,
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 417
“that though the commissioners of perambulations
had brought him their reports, yet since the prelates,
barons, and other great men of the kingdom were not
with him, - in whose presence he would have his own
feasons, and the reasons of others propounded and
heard, and by whose advice he intended to proceed,
—he enjoins the said sheriff to send to the said par-
liament,” knights, burgesses, &c. And in addressing
that parliament, his justiciary says: “His majesty
has ordered me to let you understand, that whatever
he hath done in his late wars, hath been done by
your joint consent and allowance.”
And these phrases were no mere empty, unmean-
ing professions. When we see Edward collecting the
people of London together in Westminster Hall, that
he might speak to them face to face,—when we find
him, just before, calling around him in parliament the
representatives of all the principal towns, on the
declared principle, “that what concerns all should be
by all approved,”—and when a little later, we find
him sending out for publication in every county, a
royal declaration, in which he pleads with the people,
defends his conduct, and promises to amend what-
ever is wrong, we feel assured that we are dealing
with a large-hearted man;–with one who is strong
in his conscious uprightness; one who courts dis-
cussion, and is ready to assign a reason for every-
thing he does ; one who identifies himself with his
people, knowing but one common interest, and de-
siring to unite them with him both in action and in
feeling. And this was no momentary impulse, it
was the unchanging tenor of his life; nor was it a
vague or empty profession, for it ended in giving to
England her present House of Commons.
E E
4.18 CHARACTER OF EDWARD.
Assuredly, also, there is an indissoluble connec-
tion, as was seen in Solomon's case, between largeness
of heart and wisdom, or largeness of the intellect.
We find in history’s page no nobler man than Edward,
none of a greater Soul; and, assuredly, we find no one
that surpasses him in the attribute of lofty Sagacity.
So agree even all those who most dislike him, styling
him “most sagacious,” “a great statesman,” “the
model of a politic king.” But they do not stop to
point out the remarkable union, in him, of three dif-
ferent kinds of wisdom. He was a great legislator;
but there have been many legislators who were not
Statesmen. Edward was a statesman also, and one
of the highest order; but there have been statesmen
who could not rule. He was a ruler as well as a
Statesman, and a statesman as well as a legislator,
and he stands pre-eminent in all three departments.
How many men have lived upon this earth of whom
this could be said 2 To how many sovereigns could
the couplet be justly applied, which for centuries was
affixed in Westminster Abbey to his simple tomb 2–
“Dum vixit Rex, et valuit Sua magna potestas;
Fraus latuit; pax magna fuit; regnavit honestas.”
As a ruler, power and clemency shone forth in
every action, and wisdom guided every decision. A
modern writer has well said, “Let us not withhold
from the greatest of English sovereigns his just meed
of praise. He sought, and in a great measure he
accomplished it, to establish the Supremacy of law
over all classes of the community ; and for this he
merits the eternal gratitude of succeeding ages”.”
* History of Shrewsbury, p. 136.
CHARACTER OF EDWARD. 419
But that which crowns and completes the whole,
is, the whole-heartedness of Edward’s character.
Whatever he undertook, he undertook sincerely and
earnestly ; and whatever he purposed, he purposed
frankly, avowedly, and with all his soul. Thus,
when a powerful and factious opponent, Winchel-
sey, traverses his purposes and frustrates all his
plans, he desires him to come to him, and then tells
him to say freely what he would. He hears him
patiently and without interrupting him, and then
gives him his reasons and his determination in reply:
—adding, that “in this cause he would fearlessly die;”
because he was sure he was in the path of duty, and
was rightly upholding the true interests of his realm
and its people.
And it is this evident sincerity and truth, this
constant appeal to conscience and right, which com-
pletes the character of this truly noble king. He
was a warrior, a statesman, a legislator, these are
excellencies which even the most hostile of his critics
cannot help conceding to him ; and it is probable
that in all these characters he had no superior.
But what would all these high qualities have done
for him, if truth had required us to add, as in the
case of Napoleon, that “he had not the merit of
common truth or honesty;” “doing all that in him
lay to live and thrive without moral principle *?”
Had this been the case with Edward, the foregoing
pages would never have been written. The sole
attraction which has led us through this enquiry,
has been, the elevation, the warmth, the intrinsic
nobleness of this great king's character. True and
# Emerson.
420 CELARACTER OF EDWARD.
faithful, fond and affectionate, to his consort and
his family ; just and firm in his friendships; wise
and prudent in his conduct of his royal state and
revenues;–his private life is without a stain. In his
kingly office, he rightly judged, that good government
and enlightened legislation were his first duties. The
rights of the crown he justly regarded as the rights
of the nation; and deeming himself their appointed
trustee, over them he kept a constant guard. The
only ambition which he ever shewed, was the just
and laudable ambition of leaving his people more
free, and his realm more united and powerful than he
found it. Meanwhile, his skill in statesmanship and
his puissance in the field he would willingly have left
to slumber, deeming them, more wisely than many
of his critics, not the highest, though sometimes the
most shining, parts of an heroic character.
Ardent manhood, warm affections, a constant re-
gard to truth and honor, a conduct regulated in all
things by the declared will of God, these are quali-
ties which, in any station in life, give to their possessor
the character of goodness. Sagacity and penetration,
practical wisdom, undaunted courage, a talent for com-
mand, a genius for Victory, these, in the popular view,
endow a man with the splendour of greatness. Com-
bine all these qualities in one man, in a degree of
perfection scarcely found in any other human being;
and add to them an unwearied industry, a wondrous
power of Self-command, and a patient endurance of
provocations which is, perhaps, without a parallel,-
and the result is still only an inadequate outline of
the resplendent character of “this great king.”
APPENDIX.
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424 APPENDIX.
B,-page 80.
THE CLEMENCY OF EDWARD,
WHILE speaking of Edward's clemency and generosity of
soul, we ought not to overlook, perhaps, the one solitary
story of an opposite kind which is related of him.
Matthew Paris, who leant to the faction of earl Simon,
and who did not live to see Edward in maturity, gives a single
incident, which he relates, obviously, from hearsay, but which
implies a charge of wanton cruelty. He tells us that the prince,
in his youth, and in the course of the wars in the Marches of
Wales, upon one occasion ordered a man to have one eye
put out and one ear cut off. He narrates it as an act of
reckless barbarity. We can imagine the fact to have occurred;
but we disbelieve the imputation. Edward was a youth dis-
tinguished for tenderness of affection and generosity of feeling.
He shewed himself, in after-life, a just and conscientious ruler.
Taking a general view of his character, we can entertain no
doubt that, if he inflicted such a punishment, it was for an
act of miscreancy. The man had probably been guilty of
some deed of Savage cruelty, and Edward had heard of the
Levitical rule, “An eye for an eye, and a tooth for a tooth.”
So qualified, we accept the story; but an act of wanton
cruelty would be at variance with all we know of the prince's
character in after-life, Even sir James Mackintosh admits,
that “his temper was not infected by wanton ferocity.”
APPENDIX. 425
C,-page 86.
THE STORY OF ELEANOR'S HEROISM.
THERE is scarcely a reign in the whole English history,
into which so much of romantic fiction has been introduced,
as into that of Edward. Yet these fables have not the excuse
which might have been pleaded, if the period had been that
of the ancient Briton or Saxon times. Solid and authentic
material is abundant in Edward's days, and we find little
temptation to turn aside to fiction. But this sufficiency renders
the severance of fact from fiction the more easy. There are so
many competent and credible witnesses found in Edward's days,
that the usual rule may and ought to be rigidly observed,—that
any fact which is not alluded to by any one of these contempo-
rary writers, must be held to be unworthy of credit. If we only
keep this sound and wholesome canon in our minds, and apply
it on all occasions, it will clear away from Edward's history
a mass of absurd fable.
One of the earliest in order of time, and perhaps the most
popular, is that which gives to the princess Eleanor the merit
of drawing with her lips from the wound received by Edward at
Acre, the poison which was supposed to have been left in the
flesh. This was just the sort of story to be popular, and it has
found its way into most of our school-room histories. Yet
it is impossible to accept this story, or even to hesitate in reject-
ing it. It is found in none of the English chronicles of the
time, though some of them give the particulars of that attempt.
The fiction first appeared in a Spanish work, written a century
or two after. No reason can be assigned, why the writers of
king Edward’s day should have omitted such an incident, had
it ever occurred. Their silence, and the appearance of the story
only in a distant land, and after a considerable lapse of time,
deprives it of all right to be now received with credit.
G. G.
438 APPENDIX.
D,-page 96.
ON THE RISE OF PARLIAMENTS IN ENGLAND.,
OF the councils or parliaments held in Saxon times we
have no certain knowledge; but there is little difficulty in trac-
ing the gradual rise of the present English parliament.
The Conqueror subdued and possessed England by the aid
of a band of warriors; to whom he gave great territorial
possessions. While secure of their allegiance, he could afford
to set at nought the “mere English”—the poor enslaved
inhabitants; but it was needful for him to preserve the
good will of his military supporters; who, in reward for their
valor, he had made, very extensively, lords of the soil. From
the very first, therefore, we find a rule, or admitted law or
regulation, that no new levy should be imposed without the
consent of “the Great Council.” This council consisted of
the barons, who held their estates of the king; and to these
the chief prelates were added. Besides this Great Council,
the king had his own ordinary council; resembling, in some
points, the Privy Council of our own times.
Such was the parliament or council of the Norman reigns.
In the days of the last Norman king, John, we observe the
first symptom of approaching change. To the barons and
prelates some “knights” are added;—for what purpose Mr.
Hallam considers doubtful. But we find no representation
here; for the knights, who, were probably tenants of the
crown, were merely summoned, like the barons. Nor is there
any mention of legislation. The only change is, the calling
in a larger number of the tenants of the crown, to concur
in granting the king “an aid.”
The next reign was that of Henry III. And in this reign,
of more than half a century, no glimpse appears of a legis-
APPENDIX. 427
lature, till towards its very close. The Statute-book of England
begins with this reign; but the whole product of fifty-six years
is contained in a few folio pages. The “knights” are again
mentioned, in one or two instances in this reign. But the
feature which has most arrested the notice of historians, is
that of the appearance of “burgesses,” or borough-represen-
tatives, in the parliament held in London in 1265, being the
forty-ninth year of Henry’s reign. And, as Simon de Montfort
was, practically, the dictator at that moment, he has received
much praise as the originator of the present English House
of Commons.
Let us consider the circumstances. Simon, no English
noble, but a foreigner, had seized upon the government ; and
greatly needed support to enable him to maintain his position.
He had set the barons at war with each other; and so fearfully
had he reduced their numbers, that to this parliament of 1265
there were summoned only five earls and seventeen barons.
These, we must conclude, were the whole of the baronage of
England that the dictator could reckon upon as his supporters.
Clearly, therefore, it was absolutely necessary that he should,
by some means or other, strengthen his “rump parliament”
from some other quarter. Hence his new resource, of desiring
the sheriffs, in the king's name, to send up both knights from
the counties, and burgesses from Some of the towns.
This new sort of parliament, however, presented but a poor
commencement of our present legislative assemblies. No legis-
lation was attempted;—the chief object of the meeting,
apparently, being to sanction the pretended release of prince
Edward from prison, and his committal to earl Simon's care;
and to sanction, also, the transfer of the prince's earldom of
Chester to the all-devouring Simon. These are the only
recorded acts of that parliament or council.
/ Up to this time we have met with none of the leading
features of our present parliamentary government. The name
r G G 3
428 APPENDIX.
“ parliament” is only now beginning to appear. The Annalist
of Burton calls the meeting at Oxford a “parliament;”
Matthew of Westminster calls it a “colloquium.” The meeting
or council in London in 1265, is called a “tractatus.” But,
in those last days of king Henry's reign, the term “parliament"
is repeatedly met with in the annals of the time. Still we have
here neither representation nor legislation. These councils or par-
liaments are composed of such persons as the king or the dictator
may be pleased to summon; and their business is, to discuss some
pending dispute between the king and the barons,—not to
make laws.
But priñce Edward obtains his release, and the battle of
Evesham restores king Henry to his throne. And now we
meet with the first document which bears the name of a statute;
—“the Statute of Marlborough,” passed in 1267, in the fifty-
second year of Henry’s reign. And here, too, we find concurring
in the passing of this law, some sort of a representation of the
people. Prince Edward assisted at this “concilium,” and we
may reasonably attribute to him the phraseology of the preamble
of this, the first English statute. It runs thus:—
“Our lord the king, providing for the better estate of his
realm of England, and for the more speedy ministration of jus-
tice, as belongeth to the office of a king;-the more discreet men
of the realm being called together, as well of the higher as of
the lower degree ;—it was provided, agreed, and ordained,” &c.
We have no means of ascertaining the composition of this
parliament. It is called “commune Concilium Regni,” and
there were present the “Magnates et Discreti,”—the justiciary,
chancellor, the judges, and others. It presents, in the language
of the above preamble, a mere outline, a general idea, of a
legislative assembly ; which it was the great business of
Edward’s life to complete and fill up.
Three years after this, king Henry died ; and the new
reign commenced. We have already described, at pp. 100–101,
APPENDEX. 429
the tenor of Edward’s first legislation. Without the least
delay or hesitation, “the commonalty of the realm ’’ are
distinctly recognized as entitled to a share in the making of
the laws.
But, between the first discovery and recognition of a prin-
ciple, and its full development in practice, there are usually
many halts and pauses. The man who first applied the power
of steam to a wheel or a lever, would have been astonished
could he have been shewn, in vision, the locomotive engine,
dragging after it twenty or thirty heavily-laden carriages.
The principle, of the participation of the people in the making
of the laws, was frankly and voluntarily conceded by Edward
in 1267 and in 1275; but it required the whole thirty-five
years of his reign to build up, by successive steps, the popular
branch of the English parliament.
He had given us, in 1267, our first STATUTE. In 1275
he had presided over our first PARLIAMENT*. The phrase had
been brought into use towards the end of his father's reign, but
it was not officially adopted until the new king commenced the
work of legislation. We have already quoted, at pp. 100–101,
the preamble to his first great statute; but it seems needful to
repeat it in this place.
“These be the Acts of king Edward, made at Westminster,
at the first parliament general after his coronation; by his
council, and by the assent of archbishops, bishops, abbots,
priors, earls, barons, and all the commonalty of the realm,
thither summoned.”
At once, then, we are introduced to the term “Parliament,”
now for the first time officially adopted; and we find also that
that assembly is taken to be a legislature, and that the making
of good laws is one of its chief duties. We find, also, “the
commonalty of the realm * now recognized, as an essential
* “The first mention of the term ‘Parliament’ is in, the preamble to the
Statute of Westminster, 1275.”—Blackstone.
430 APPENDEX.
part of the said legislature. But how this part of the Scheme
was at that time carried out, we know not.
Three years after, in 1278, the king, in propounding the
important Statutes of Gloucester, again recognizes the prin-
ciple of the concurrence of the people in the work of legislation.
“The king, providing for the amendment of his realm, and
for the füller administration of justice, having called unto him
the more discreet persons of his kingdom, as well of the
greater as of the less, it is ordained,” &c.
But, five years later, in 1283, the first great step was taken
in the construction of the English House of Commons. Not by
an usurping dictator, but by the king himself-and not to
answer any especial purpose; but as a great practical improve-
ment in the system of government, Edward summoned a
parliament to meet at Shrewsbury, and at Acton Burnel, near
that town, for the enactment of the Statute of Merchants, and
for the trial of David of Snowdon. And to this parliament the
king called eleven earls and ninety-nine barons; and he
then directs the sheriffs to send from each county two knights;
and the mayors of twenty-one cities to send from each two
citizens. Here we have at once a parliament essentially like
our own. And it is the free gift of the king, No demand
had been made upon him, no exigency or pressure existed.
We owe this first commencement of the parliament of England
to the practical wisdom and largeness of heart of this truly
great Sovereign.
As to the previous instance, of burgesses summoned to
parliament by Simon de Montfort, in 1265, we remark,+
1. That it was an evident device, suggested to him by the
urgent difficulty which pressed upon him; namely, the paucity
of his supporters among the barons, and the impossibility of
constituting a parliament having even a decent show of
numbers, out of five earls and seventeen barons.
2. That this sham parliament never was treated or regarded
-APPENDIX. 431
as a legal meeting. All its acts were cancelled and annulled by
the parliament of Winchester, held in the autumn of the same
year. Other parliaments were summoned, often year by year,
in the remaining years of Henry's reign, and in the first ten
years of Edward's, without the least reference to borough-
representation. And it is not until eighteen years after 1265,
in October 1283, that Edward, voluntarily, and without any
demand being made upon him, orders writs to be sent out,
summoning burgesses from London and twenty other great
towns, to attend the parliament about to be held in Shrewsbury.
‘E,-page 189.
THE ALLEGED “ MASSACRE OF THE BARDS.”
A STORY which Hume has countenanced, and which has
consequently found its way into all the school-histories, seems
to require a brief notice here. That historian, probably conscious
that a suspicion of national prejudice would attach to his com-
plaints of Edward's conduct towards Scotland, adroitly tries,
before he touches upon Scotch affairs, to create a prejudice
against Edward, on the score of his alleged injustice and
cruelty towards Wales and the Welsh princes. We have
already seen him representing David as “a sovereign prince,”
when he was none: and in the same spirit of misrepresen-
tation he ascribes Llewellyn's unwillingness to come to
England to pay his homage, to Edward's interception and
detainer of Eleanor, his betrothed bride; whereas Llewellyn
had so refused, long before Eleanor fell into Edward’s hands.
He also omits all mention of Edward's great kindness and
munificence to David, and his resentment at the latter's
ingratitude and treachery. But, perhaps, he is most to be
blamed for his insertion, without. hesitation or reserve, of the
following calumny:—
482 APPENDIX.
“The king, sensible that nothing kept alive the ideas of
military valor and of ancient glory, so much as the tra-
ditional poetry of the people, which, assisted by the power of
music, and the jollity of festivals, made a deep impression on
the minds of the youth, gathered together all the Welsh bards,
and from a barbarous but not absurd policy, ordered them to
be put to death.”
This fiction Gray clothed with the wings of poesy, and
his ode, beginning—
“Ruin seize thee! ruthless king !”
fixed the supposed fact in the mind of almost every school-boy
and School-girl in the United Kingdom.
Yet is the charge thus brought against Edward absolutely
false, and even entirely groundless. This is honorably admitted
by sir James Mackintosh, who says, “The massacre of the
bards is an act of cruelty imputed to Edward without evidence;
and is inconsistent with his temper, which was not infected by
wanton ferocity.”
But the charge is not only made “without evidence:”—
there is conclusive evidence existing which entirely destroys its
credibility. Sir Richard Hoare, in his edition of Giraldus
Cambrensis, says,
“From the time of Edward to the days of Elizabeth, the
productions of the bards were so numerous, that Mr. Owen
Jones, in forming a collection for that period, has already
transcribed between fifty and sixty volumes in quarto; and the
work is not yet completed.”
Surely, then, we may hope for the entire abandonment, in
these days of attention to evidence, of this utterly groundless
calumny.
APPENDIX. 433
F;—page 181.
TICTIONS OF THE SCOTTISH HISTORIANS.
CONCERNING Edward's transactions in Scotland, the prin-
cipal Scottish writers indulge, as might have been expected, in
a variety of romantic fictions. We shall briefly notice a few
of these.
1.
Sir James Mackintosh, eagerly adopting, without ex-
amination, Hume's story of the “great army,” and of the
“betrayal” of the Scottish barons “into a situation in which
it was impossible for them to make any defence,” actually
Writes thus:–
“The circumvention of the estates of Scotland at Norham
in 1291, bears stronger marks of resemblance to the artifices
by which the royal family of Spain were inveigled at Bayonne
in 1808, than can often be fairly traced in occurrences so
distant in time.”—(p. 264.)
How utterly monstrous is this comparison | Let us recall
the facts. In 1808 Bonaparte induced the Spanish princes to
come to him at Bayonne, a fortified town, where they were
absolutely in his power. He here first persuaded the old
king to resign his crown, which was not difficult. Then, turn-
ing to Ferdinand, in feigned anger, he threatened him with
immediate execution if he did not follow his father's example!
“Prince,” he said, “you must choose between cession and
death".” In this way, he forced from the Spanish princes the
surrender of their kingdom, just as a highway-robber, pistol in
hand, compels the passenger to give up his purse.
Compare the case which is so outrageously assimilated to
this. Edward did not interfere in Scotland at all, until he
had been repeatedly, and by all the chief men in Scotland,
* Alison, vol. viii., p. 384.
434 APPENDIX.
entreated to do so. He had been appealed to by them as their
Superior lord;—as the person to whom it belonged, of right, to
decide their quarrel. So entreated, he went. There was no
circumvention, no surprise, no attempt at coercion. Having
been invoked as Superior lord, he asked them, frankly, whether
they all received him in that character. The “great army”
of which Hume speaks, is a fiction. He had none but his
usual attendants. The Scottish barons hesitated. He gave
them a day to deliberate, and on their application, extended
the time to three weeks. They therefore returned home, free
to take whatever course they pleased, and with time enough,
if they chose to resist the king's claim, to collect forces where-
with to do so. -
Yet this open, straightforward line of conduct is actually
likened, by sir James Mackintosh, to Bonaparte's inveiglement
of the Spanish princes within the walls of a fortress, and his
threat to Ferdinand, of death, if he did not instantly resign
his crown |
2.
Not of sir James Mackintosh only, however, but of Mr.
Tytler, a fairer and more cautious writer, must we complain, in
this part of the history.
Mr. Tytler, to prove a deceitful and ambitious purpose in
Edward's mind from the very opening of these transactions with
Scotland, gives us two brief citations from the old historians.
1. He cites from Fordun (b. xi., c. 3) these few words:—
“Now,” said Edward (in 1290) to the most confidential of
his ministers, “the time is at last arrived when Scotland and its
petty kings shall be reduced under my power.”
With reference to which quotation it is enough to say, that
Fordun wrote just one hundred years after; and therefore can
give no valid testimony, as to a private conversation between
IEdward and “his most confidential minister,” half a century
before he, Fordun, was born,
APPENDIX. 435
But, 2, the Annals of Waverley, says Mr. Tytler, tell us, in
1291, that “the king of England, having assembled his privy
council and chief nobility, told them, that he had it in his mind
to bring under his dominion the king and the realm of Scot-
land, in the same manner that he had subdued the kingdom of
Wales.”
This would be something like evidence, though of a loose
kind, if Mr. Tytler had quoted it fairly. But he has given
only so much as suited his purpose. The passage in the Annals
of Waverley, runs thus:—
“The king of England, having assembled his privy council
and chief nobility, told them that he had it in his mind to bring
under his dominion the king and-the realm of Scotland, in the
same manner that he had subdued the kingdom of Wales. He
therefore moved his army into those parts; where in a short
time he gained possession of the said kingdom of Scotland.”
Thus we see that this passage is only one instance out of
hundreds which might be adduced, shewing that the old chroni-
clers often put down under the date of one year, facts which
properly belong to another. There was, in 1291, no “king”
in Scotland to be subdued. Neither did Edward move an army
into Scotland, or gain possession of Scotland, until 1296. It
is probable enough, that shortly before this, he stated to his
council such views as are described in the Annals. But then, this
all happened in 1296, after Baliol had broken faith with him,
not in 1291, when the conferences as to the succession were
still going on.
3.
Two or three other fictions are introduced about this period
by Wyntoun and Fordun, who wrote at the end of the fourteenth
century, and beginning of the fifteenth;-and Mr. Tytler does
not disdain to avail himself of one of them:— *
1. These writers tell us, that during the arbitration,
Edward offered to give the crown to Bruce if he would consent
486 APPENDIX.
to hold it of him as feudal lord; but that Bruce nobly answered,
that he would never purchase the kingdom by reducing it to
servitude. Upon which, Mr. Macpherson, the editor of Wyntoun,
justly remarks, that “the Scottish historians, partial to the
family of their hero, Bruce, have united in putting into the
mouth of his grandfather, sentiments of magnanimity and inde-
pendence, which, from vouchers, are proved to be fictitious.”
For, as we have already seen, both Hume and Mr. Tytler
confess, that Bruce was the first to accept Edward as his feudal
lord; and sir Francis Palgrave has shewn, that he did this long
before the meeting at Norham. Both Wyntoun and Fordun,
therefore, are convicted of falsification.
2. Another story of this kind is repeated by Mr. Tytler,
although both Hume and sir Walter Scott had repudiated it.
Mr. Tytler tells us, of 1295, that “To Bruce, son of the com-
petitor for the crown, Edward affected uncommon friendship;
regretted his decision in favor of the now rebellious Baliol, and
declared his determination to place him on the throne.” And,
in 1296, that “Bruce reminded him of his promise, to place
him on the throne.” “Have I nothing to do?” said the
haughty monarch, “but to conquer kingdoms for you?” Here
is an important statement, which represents Edward as false and
deceitful. But when did it first see the light? In Fordun, and
in Bower's history, which appeared some time after 1440, or
nearly one hundred and fifty years after the period referred to 1
It is no wonder, then, that Hume passes it over in silence, or
that sir Walter reduces it to this:—“ Bruce, after the victory
of Dunbar, conceived his turn of triumph was approaching, and
hinted to Edward his hope,” &c.
The object of Fordun, as of the other Scottish historians,
was, to make out some legal right or title for Bruce. In order
to do this, they scruple not to invent. Thus, as we have just
seen, they tell us, that before the arbitration was decided, Edward
offered to decide in favor of Bruce, if he would own him as his
superior lord; and that Bruce refused to do so. Whereas we
APPENDIX. 487
know, from documents which are extant, that Bruce had at that
very time, actually applied to Edward as his superior lordl
The present fiction is refuted by many well-known facts.
Had Edward deceived and disappointed this Bruce, (the son of
the competitor,) it must have followed that the party so deceived
would have become bitterly hostile. Instead of which, we im-
mediately find this very Bruce employed by Edward, as “his
dear and trusty friend,” to receive to his peace the inhabitants
of Annandale. And three times after this does Mr. Tytler
distinctly recognize this Bruce as being always loyal and faith-
ful to Edward;—a thing most improbable, if he had been,_as
represented by Fordun an hundred and fifty years after,
grossly deceived and wronged by the king.
4.
The next fiction is adopted by Hume, and rejected by
other Scotch historians. Hume tells us, that, after the battle of
Falkirk, “Young Bruce,” afterwards Robert I., “distinguishing
the Scottish chief,” Wallace, had a conference with him, “in
which the gallantry of Wallace’s sentiments struck the generous
mind of Bruce, and made him repent of his engagements with
Edward.”
Hume gives this story at some length, and yet is obliged to
admit, in a note, that “Hemingford and Trivet, authors of good
credit, agree that Bruce was not at that time in Edward's army.”
Why, then, does he repeat the story? Because, he says,
“it is told by all the Scottish writers.” But these Scotch
writers wrote a century after, while Hemingford and Trivet
wrote at the very time.
We have already shewn, that these “Scotch writers,” writing
two or three generations after, invented many fictions. It is now
admitted on all hands, that this conference between Bruce and
Wallace is a fable. Sir Walter Scott never alludes to it; lord
Hailes scoffs at it; and Mr. Tytler admits that Bruce was then
in another part of Scotland.
4.38 APPENDIX.
G,-page 220.
THE STORMING OF BIERWICK.
IN order to raise a prejudice against Edward, on the score
of the storming of Berwick, both Mr. Tytler and sir Walter
Scott condescend to borrow the exaggerated statement of one
English chronicler, that 17,000 persons fell in that storm. Yet,
when the same English chronicler states the loss of the Scotch
at Falkirk at 30,000, Mr. Tytler at once reduces it to 15,000.
But he retains the exaggerated number in the case of Berwick,
because it manifestly tends to Edward’s prejudice; as having
the appearance of a massacre.
Yet surely, neither Mr. T. nor sir Walter could be ignorant,
that all the Scotch historians, Wyntoun, Fordun, and Boethius,
state the number of those who fell at 7,000 or 7,500. But there
is higher authority than either of these. The complaint of the
Scotch regents to the pope, made within a year or two after, only
states the number at “nearly 8,000.” Now complainants, in
their circumstances, were not likely to understate their case. If
they stated the numbers liberally, or largely—as they surely
would ; and if some of the bodies so counted were English who
fell in the attack, then it would leave a probable loss to the
Scotch of about 4,000 or 5,000 men, a number which, under
the circumstances, appears not at all a remarkable one.
H,-page 284.
EDWARD'S OBTESTATION.
AT first sight, remembering the constant and earnest attention
to religious duties shewn by Edward, we were inclined to doubt
whether the chronicler might not be in error in ascribing this
oath to the king; the more especially since the person addressed
was named BIGOD; So that it would be easy to fall into such an
APPENDIX. 439
error. But, looking a little further, we found the pope himself,
in a public reception of Edward's ambassadors, asseverating
“per deum,” that he would do the king justice. So that it seems
tolerably clear that even religious men, in those days, thought
it lawful to use language similar to that employed by Abraham
(Gen. xxiv. 3), by Joab (2 Sam. xix. 7), and by Nehemiah
(xiii.25). As to Edward himself, his whole character assures
us, that he never used the Divine name lightly or irreverently.
I,_page 268.
THE NATURE OF WALLACE'S SWAY IN SCOTLAND.
IT is quite evident that Wallace's power in Scotland, from
August or September 1297 till July 1298, must have been of
the nature of a tyranny. This we learn from the Scottish his-
torians themselves. We have already noticed this in p. 255;
but one or two further proofs may here be adduced. Fordun, one
of the earliest of the Scottish chroniclers, says, that Wallace, “if
any of the great men would not of his own accord obey his man-
dates, him he held and confined until he wholly submitted to his
good pleasure.” So also, Hector Boethius tells us, that “He
made sic punition on tham whilk war repugnant to his procla-
mation, that the remanent pepil for feir thairof assisted to his
purpose.” And Wyntoun, in his Cronykyl (viii. 13) says,
“The grettest lordes of our lande
To him he gert them be bowand:
Ild thai, wald thai, all gert he
Bowsum to his bidding be:
And to his bidding, who was not bown,
He took and put tham in prisoun.”
When we recollect who Wallace was;–the unknown younger
son of a small country proprietor or yeoman, who had gathered
round him a horde of “men of desperate fortunes,” and now
required “the grettest lordes of the lande” to be “bowsum ”
440 APPENDIX.
(obeisant) to his bidding, we shall see that his position differed
little from that of John of Giscala in the siege of Jerusalem;
and that desertion in his hour of need was the sure fate that
awaited him.
J,-page 314.
WALLACE'S RAWAGE OF THE NORTHERN COUNTIES.
EQUALLY unanimous are the Scottish chroniclers as to the
character of Wallace's invasion of England. Fordun says, that
“he wasted all the land of Allerdale with fire.” Wyntoun
SayS,-
“All Allerdale as man of warre
That tyme he brent with his powere
sk :: :k: ::
Wharever thai overtuk the Inglis men
Thai spared none, but slewe all down.”
Boethius tells us, that “he brent and harried all Northumber-
land to Newcastle. . . . . He took Dunotter and slew all
persons found in it.”
And, in our own times, the great Scottish Encyclopædia
Britannica combines all the records in these words, “He pro-
ceeded as far as Newcastle, wasting with fire and sword, and
sparing neither age nor Sea.” p
Sir James Mackintosh and some other writers have tried to
exculpate him, or at least to extenuate his conduct, on the
strength of a single act of mercy shewn to some monks whom
he saved from massacre. Probably there never existed on earth
a creature so wholly Satanic as never once to have shewn mercy.
But his character must be decided, not by conflicting evidence,
or by any isolated act, but by the general concurrence of all
writers, from the English chroniclers of his own day, down
to Blind Harry of 1470. Not one of all these varies in the
general statement, that he was ruthless, the destroyer of men,
women, and children, “sparing neither sex nor age.”
APPENDIX. 441
The Scottish Maitland Club printed, in 1834, a volume of
Illustrations of Scottish History; at p. 54 of which volume we
find a transcript of Wallace’s sentence, from an Arundel MS.
of about 1320, i.e. of Wallace's own time. As a part of that
Sentence, it was ordered, “that his bowels be taken out and
burnt, even as he himself had burnt a church full of men and
women.” And this fact, as we have seen, was narrated, and
boasted of, by Blind Harry, one hundred and fifty years after.
R,-page 888.
PARLIAMENT OF LINCOLN.
THE requests preferred by the barons, and accorded by the
king, were the Ist, IInd, IIIrd, IVth, and Wth, the VIIIth,
IXth, Xth, and XIth. Those which he did not concede, were
the following:— WI
“E ce ke mesprisest par nul ministre soit amende Solom
ce ke le trespas le demaunde par auditours a ceo
assignez qe ne Soient pas suspecionus des Prelates,
Contes, e Barons de la terre Solom ceo kil mesmes
ainz ces houres ad fet e qe ce Seit meintenant mis
en oevre.”
“Dominus Rex vult providere aliud remedium
Super hoc Sed non per tales auditores.”
VII.
“E qe Wiscontes de cest houre en avant respoignet des
issues Solom ce kil Soleient fere en tens son Pere les
queles issues unt este e uncore ore sunt a grand
apovrissement du peuple. E ke Wiscontes ne soient
plus haut chargez.”
“Placet Dominus Rege quod de communi
consilio provideatur super hoc quam cito
commode poterit remedium optimum.”
H H
442 APPENDIX.
XII.
“E par ceste choses Suzdites ne pount ne osent pas les
Prelates de Seinte Eglise assenter ke contribucion
Seit fete de lur biens ne de biens de la clergie en
contre le defens le Apostoille.”
“Non placuit Regi : sed communitas Pro-
cerium approbavit.”
L,-page 860.
EDWARD OF CARNARWON.
A BRIEF, but very interesting, outline of the letters of Ed-
ward II., when prince of Wales, recently discovered in the
Chapter-house, Westminster, has been given by W. H. Blaauw,
Esq., in the Sussea; Archaeological Collections. On the day after
the letter given above, at p. 359, the prince writes to sir Walter
Reignard, to the following effect:—
“Inasmuch as our lord the king is so angry with us, on
account of the bishop of Chester, that he has prohibited us, or
any one of our suite, from entering his household, and has also
forbidden the officers of his household and of the exchequer to
give or lend us any thing, we send to you, that you may devise
means to send us money in great haste for the sustenance of
our household; and do not, in any manner, shew anything of
the wants which touch us to the bishop of Chester, nor to any
person belonging to the exchequer.—Midhurst, the 14th day
of June.”
A week later we find the prince writing again to this same
Walter Reignard; begging him to help him to some palfreys,
saddles, and some new robes of fur and satin, in contemplation
of the expected visit of queen Mary, dowager of France, and
her son, “Monsire Lowys.”
The prince's easiness and good-nature are exhibited by
many letters, in this his time of trouble, to prelates and other
APPENDIX. 448
patrons, requesting preferment for divers persons who had re-
quested his good offices. This same Walter Reignard after-
wards became, by his favor, archbishop of Canterbury.
In July the prince writes to his brother-in-law, the earl
of Gloucester, to the following effect:-
“Because you have so kindly given up your goods to us, we
thank you very dearly, and we let you know that our lord the
king our father does not consider himself so ill-treated by us
as some people, perhaps, have made you believe; for he wishes,
and has commanded, that we should have of his bounty what-
ever is needful for us.”
And this is confirmed by the fact, that a sum of one hun-
dred marks is paid, about this time, out of the king's wardrobe,
to Walter Reignard, for the prince's expenses.
In August he writes to his sister, the countess of Glou-
cester, that he would very gladly come to her; but that the
king hath commanded his stay in these parts, i.e. near Wyndsore.
But though thus secluded, there are proofs in abundance
that the life he led was not a solitary one.
His letters speak of spices and groceries, long swords for
valets, small horns, and horses at a very high prices To his
sister he writes for a white greyhound, and Hugh le. Despencer
is thanked for raisins and wine. One great point, respecting
which he intreated the queen, his mother-in-law, was, that he
might have two more valets, and that “Perot,” (his familiar
name for Peter de Gaveston,) might be one of them.
It is worthy of notice, that the king, while he was resolved
upon Gaveston’s removal and banishment, took care to do him
no injustice; for he granted him a pension of one hundred
marks, which was to commence from the day of his departure
from England.
H H 3
444 APPENDIX.
M,-page 371.
CLAIMANTS OF THE CROWN OF SCOTLAND.
MR. MACPHERSON, the editor of Andrew Wyntoun, says,
in one of his notes to that Chronicle,
“It is very surprising that Edward did not claim the crown
of Scotland for himself, as heir of Malcolm Canmore, whose
granddaughter Maud was his great-great grandmother. His
great-grandson, Henry IV., got the crown of England without
having so good an hereditary title.”
It may be worth while, therefore, to shew the real position of
Baliol, of Comyn, of Bruce, and of Edward, which is done in
the following table:—
MALcol M. CANMORE, king of Scotland. A.D. 1056–1093.
Married Margaret, sister of Edgar Atheling.

|
| | | | |
Duncan. Edgar. Alex. T. David I. Matilda—marr. Henry I.
Henry E. of Huntingdon. Empress Matilda.

| | | |
Malcolm IV. William David E. of Huntingdon.
the Lion. | Henry II.
| | |
Alex. II. Margaret. Isabel. ——
| e
Rich.I. John.
Alex. III. Devorgoil. C Oſl11
|
dº Rob. Bruce. Henry III,
| Margt. JoHN BALIOL.
Margaret, sister. |
Maid of Norway, Rob. Bruce, EDWARD I.
died 1290. E. of Carrick.
|
John Edward RoBERT I.
Comyn. Baliol. of Scotland.

From this table it will be apparent why Edward, keep-
ing, as he always did, his descent from Malcolm Canmore in
memory, never rested his claim on that descent. Beyond all
APPENDIX, 445
question, Baliol and his son possessed the hereditary right; and
next, John Comyn. Bruce had no other immediate title than
that of the sword. Edward's unquestionable claim rested on
the broad fact, that Baliol, Bruce, Comyn, and every lord in
Scotland, first admitted him as Lord Paramount, and then
made war against him: the penalty of which was, forfeiture,
by the general laws of Europe at that time.
N,-page 402.
EDWARD’S ALLEGED AMIBITION AND WINDICTIVENESS.
APART from the Scottish historians, two English writers
of modern times, and of the highest rank, have done Edward
a great injustice. Mr. Hallam, allowing him to have been “a
prince unequalled by any since the Conqueror for prudence,
valour, and success,” yet says, with reference to his dispute
with the two earls, that “his ambition, luckily for the people,
had involved him in foreign warfare.”
This “foreign warfare,” in which Edward was involved,
was simply an attempt to regain a noble province, of which
Philip of France had fraudulently robbed England. If any
French ruler, at the present day, were to resolve upon taking
from England the comparatively insignificant Norman isles,
would it be just to describe Queen Victoria, in some future
history, as “involved by her ambition in foreign warfare?”
With similar perverseness, Mr. Sharon Turner, while he
does justice to the uprightness of most of Edward’s conduct,
yet describes him as “windictive.” This is the greatest in-
justice that can be conceived. Edward reigned for more than
thirty years, of a stirring and active character, without sending
more than three traitors to the scaffold,—David, Turberville, and
Wallace,—and each one of these, for such offences, would have
been sent to the scaffold in our own day. The chief difference
between Edward's proceedings and our own, lay in the greater
446 APPENDIX.
gravity and caution of his proceedings, and in the clemency
which, in almost every case, he was ready to extend to any
offender who asked for mercy. In our own time, men who had
been guilty of the crimes of David or of Wallace, have found a
much more summary doom”. It is true, that at the close of
Edward's life, a great crime was committed in Scotland; an
eminent nobleman was assassinated, under circumstances of more
than ordinary atrocity. Edward ordered all who were con-
cerned in this murder to be executed, and several persons were
thus rightfully punished. But even in his exasperation he was
distinguished for clemency. By the same sentence of Lanercost,
those persons who were only guilty of rebellion and high treason,
were merely ordered “to be imprisoned at the king’s pleasure.”
Does English history record any act less “windictive” than
this 2
On the general question, of the character of Edward's rule,
it is quite undeniable, that there is no reign in English history
which can compare with it for clemency.
If we turn to that of his weak and unworthy successor, we
find it full of hurried executions. Thus, when he took Ledes
Castle, he hanged up the governor and eleven knights. When
he captured the earl of Lancaster, the earl was immediately
sent to the scaffold; and with him fourteen knights and
fourteen knights-banneret.
* Thus, Major Hodson writes, from India, in 1857:—“The next day
I got permission to go and bring in the king (of Delhi) and his favorite
wife and her son. This was successfully accomplished. I then set to
work to get hold of the villain princes. I started for the tomb of the
emperor Humayoon, where they had taken Sanctuary. After two hours of
wordy strife, they appeared, and I sent them away under a guard. * *
* * * * * I then went to look after my prisoners, who, with their
guard, had moved towards Delhi. I came up just in time, and seizing a car.
bine from one of my men, I deliberately shot, them one after another. I then
ordered the bodies to be taken into the city and thrown out on the Chiboutre,
in front of the Kotwallu. In twenty-four hours, therefore, I had disposed of
the principal members of the house of Timur the Tartar.” This narrative
is published without regret by a clergyman of Trin. Coll., Cambridge.
. APPENDIX. 44'ſ
In the reign of Edward III., we have the execution of the
earl of Kent, “son of the great Edward,” of Mortimer and
Bereford, and of the earl of Menteith.
In Richard II.'s reign, we find Tresillian and Brambre,
Burley and Beauchamp, Berners and Salisbury, and the earl
of Arundel, sent to the scaffold.
In Henry IV.'s reign, we hear of the execution of the
earls of Kent and Salisbury, of lords Lumley and De-
Spencer, of the earl of Huntingdon, of the earl of Worcester,
of lord Kinderton, of sir Richard Vernon, of the earl of
Westmoreland, and of the archbishop of York.
Now Edward I.'s reign was not a calm or peaceful one.
He had wars abroad and at home, conspiracies, and earls and
archbishops opposed to him. Yet, during thirty years, and
until the assassination of Comyn, we find, as we have just
Said, but three political executions,—1. David of Snowdon,
who in time of peace had stormed a castle, committing high-
treason and murder; 2. Turberville, who had covenanted to
assist the landing of the French ; and 3. Wallace, who had
ravaged two counties with fire and sword “sparing neither
sex nor age.” Say we not truly, then, that for clemency,
Edward's Sway is almost without a parallel.
O,-page 403.
THE RELIGIOUS TONE OF EDWARD'S CHARACTER.
ALTHOUGH the monkish historians are of necessity the best
authorities for mediaeval history, inasmuch as they could both
read and write, (no ordinary accomplishments in those days,)
still there are many statements in their pages which we must
receive with allowance; such as their accounts of church-
quarrels, and the Bible-language which they are fond of putting
into the mouths of their heroes. Thus, in his narrative of the
siege of Stirling Castle in 1304, Matthew of Westminster makes
448 APPENDIX.
Edward talk like one of Cromwell’s preaching captains, quoting
Seripture at every turn. But as Matthew himself was hardly
present at that siege, we can feel no certainty as to these quota-
tions from the book of Psalms. All that we can safely gather
is, that the king was probably acquainted with some portions of
Scripture, and was wont occasionally to bring them into his
common conversation.
In like manner, John of Westminster, being employed by
Queen Margaret to write a memorial of her departed husband,
tells us, doubtless from hearsay, how “the aged king,” in his
last moments, “spread his hands to heaven, after the manner of
the blessed Martin, and exclaimed, ‘Lord! if hitherto I have
been in some small way necessary to thy people, I refuse not to
undergo further toil for them. But if it is meet for me
to die, the blessing is mine. I, thy unprofitable servant, am
almost seventy years of age, and from my youth up I have tried
to devote my labours wholly unto thee. And now a new
enemy is coming against thy people ! But thy will be done!”
We must receive all this, like Matthew's quotations from Scrip-
ture, with some reserve. Still, as John wrote in the presence
of those who knew the king, and were near him at the close of
his life, we may suppose that this was not wholly fictitious, or
merely the language of eulogy. Some such ending would be con-
sistent with the whole tenor of Edward's strictly religious life.
There was found in the Tower of London, a few years ago, a
manual of private devotion, written on a small vellum roll, such
as might conveniently be carried about the person, and in the
Norman-French which was used in Edward's day. Nothing
can be discovered as to its owner; but if it ever belonged to a
king, we must assign it to either Henry III. or to Edward, for
neither John nor Edward II. were at all likely to possess such
a volume. It will be remembered that both Henry and Edward
were, for some years, residents in the Tower. And it exactly
tallies with Matthew of Westminster's portrait of Edward; for,
APPENDIX. 449
among other things, it contains an enumeration of proper psalms
to be repeated upon particular occasions. One of its principal
hymn-prayers begins thus:— g
“Douce syr' Jesu Christ eyez mercy de moy
Ky de ceil entre venystez par moy
E de la vergyne Marie masquez par moy
E en la Seynte creys mort suffriyez par moy.”
The whole hymn has been thus given in English prose, in
Bentley’s Eccerpta Historica, p. 407:— ſ
“Sweet Lord Jesu Christ! have mercy upon me; who for
me didst come from heaven upon earth ; and for me
wast born of the Virgin Mary; and for me didst
suffer death upon the holy cross |
“Mercy! I pray thee, Jesu, my very Saviour, my solace,
my comfort, my joy, my happiness! Take away from
my heart pride, anger, and rancour, that I may
willingly serve and love thee as my Lord.
“Much ought I to love thee, for thou didst exceedingly
love me, when thou didst willingly humble thy God-
head so far, that here, though thou wert and art
Almighty God, thou didst become man, bearing
human flesh.
“Upon earth thou didst suffer travail and many distresses,
cold, and hunger, and thirst ; anguish, and griefs:
thou didst pour forth thy blood, and didst shed many
tears, and at last didst deign to die for all sinners.
“Hard and piteous was thy death, when thy most holy
body, which never did sin, with many wrongful suffer-
ings was vilely treated: between thieves wast thou
hung and raised upon the cross.
“With sharp thorns they crowned thy head; with nails
they pierced thy hands and feet; with a lance they
made a deep wound in thy side, whence issued both
water and blood, which washed us from sin.
450
APPENDIX.
“Thou hast thy head inclined to call us, and thy arms ex-
tended to embraceus, and thy side open to shew thy love
to us: high on the cross didst thou ascend to save us all.
“Therefore I pray thee, Jesu Christ I have compassion on
me, that I be not for my sins delivered to purgatory:
put in my heart true humility, that I may have
perfect love towards thee and towards my neighbour.
“Often have I provoked thee, Jesu ! to anger, in word,
in deed, in speech and foolish thought, sleeping and
awake, in inn and chamber, by enticement of others,
and by my own unruly will.
* * * * 3: $ *
“Therefore I pray thee, Jesu Christ hear my confession,
pardon all the wickedness that I have done, enable
me to make worthy satisfaction, and to do true
penance before death, for thy name's sake, O Jesuſ
“Moreover, I pray thee, sweet Jesu ! if I do anything
good, give me thy grace that I fall not into vain-
glory; and that the good I ardently labour for be not
brought to nought by the evil spirit that always
pursues me.
“Open my heart, I pray thee, Jesu : for thy name's sake,
that I may have a due sense of the passion thou didst
suffer in the body: give me thoughts of true compas-
sion, that I may be a partaker of thy redemption.
“Give me grace, I pray thee, Jesu 1 so to watch over my
life here, that I may keep every day holy to thee;
make me to have a conscience guarding me from
mortal sin; deliver me safe from my enemies, that I
may worthily partake of thy precious body and blood.
“And if I fall into sin through any temptations by the
enticement of our perfidious enemies, may it please
thee, Jesul to grant me true remission, and contem-
plation upon thee continually.
APPENDIX. 451
“For myself I implore thee, and for all my friends, and
for all Christians, and for all dead and living; shew
us the brightness of thy countenance, and bring us all
together to the joys of paradise!”
It is almost unnecessary to observe, that there is scarcely a
word in this prayer which Wicliffe would not have willingly
used, or in which Luther, for the first few years of his Christian
life, would not have joined. One or two allusions to penance
and to purgatory are the only exceptions which even a Pro-
testant of our own day can make to its language. And we may
safely say, that any one, in any age, who can honestly and
from the heart make this prayer his own, is in the way which
leadeth to everlasting life.
A YEAR'S EXPENDITURE OF THE KING,
IT is now more than seventy years since the Society of Anti-
quarians published “The Account of the Comptroller of the
Wardrobe, of the twenty-eighth year of king Edward I., A.D.
1299–1300;” and it is probable that few of the readers of this
volume have ever seen that publication. It seems desirable,
therefore, to give, in this place, a brief sketch of that Account,
the whole details of which form a quarto volume. We shall
confine ourselves to a few general heads.
I.
The Keeper or treasurer of the Wardrobe acknowledges the
receipt, from various sources, of a total sum, within
the year, of - tº a - £58,155 16s. 2d.
452
APPENDIX,
II.
He then gives an account of his disbursements, under
22
8.
9.
10.
twelve heads, as follows:—
. Alms and oblations, for the relief of
the poor, or as religious offerings.
The payments fill thirty-one quarto
pages, and are of every description.
The total for the year &
. The next head is that of necessaries
bought for the use of the king's house-
hold, and for charges and expenses of
ambassadors, messengers, &c., the
total being - gº º
. Then follows the victualling and stores
for the king's army in Scotland, and
for the supplies for the garrisons of
his castles in that country -
Next, gifts and rewards; and payment
for horses lost by knights and others
in the king's service tº
. Allowances to knights of the king's
household; and of foreign troops re-
tained in the king's service - I tº
. Wages of the engineers, archers, and
Sergeants-at-arms of the household -
. Wages of foot-soldiers, archers, artifi-
cers, and workmen - ſº
Wages to seamen of the Cinque Ports
and other towns - º
Expenses of king's messengers tº º
Wages and expenses of the huntsmen,
falconers, hawks, &c. * * gº
Allowances to knights, bannerets, &c.
of the household, for robes - tº
£ S. d.
1,166 14 6
3,338 19 3
18,638 1 8
4,386 4 5
3,077 19 0
1,038 10 7
4,446 9 11
1,233 9 8
87 11 1
77 6 11
714 3 4
APPENDIX. 453
£ s. d.
11. Goldsmiths' and jewellers' accounts - 253 15 6
12. Includes cloth, furs, wax, and other
things for the use of the household - 4,391 19 0
Wines and other liquors for the use of
the household - - - 6,934 6 0
Separate account of the queen - 3,668 2 9
Costs and charges of the king's Chan-
cery tºº tº tº- - 581
£54,085 2
To which is added, for some current expenses of the house-
hold, the particulars of which do not appear to have
been preserved, the sum of £10,969 16s. 0d.
So that the treasurer, on this account, would appear to
have been in advance. But there was, doubtless,
money daily coming in, and he probably had some
bills not yet discharged.
The calculations of Bishop Fleetwood's tables shew the value
of money to have been fifteen times as great at that day
as it is now. This would make the royal revenue to
amount to about £800,000 per annum. Out of which
the king paid, in 1800, what would now be about
#500,000, for his troops, seamen, garrisons, &c.;
about £270,000 for the expenses of his household,
exclusive of robes, jewels, huntsmen, and charities;
which last item, of Alms and oblations, in the money of
our time, would be equal to nearly £18,000 a-year.
454 APPENDIX.
@rigin amn (ºrototh of the Gºnglish #egislature,
UNDER THE NORMAN KINGs. A.D. 1016–1216.
A.D. 1066. Great Councils occasionally held. No Statutes
made. These Councils are generally called
$0 “a Curia,” or “a Convention.”
Brief Charters by Henry I. and by Stephen.
,, 1215. Magna Charta extorted from John.
UNDER HENRY III. A.D. 1216–1272,
Long Minority of the King.
A.D. 1236. A Curia, or Council, held at Merton, consisting
of Archbishops, Bishops, Earls, and Barons.
,, 1246, Frequent Councils of Barons held, to consult of
to granting the King an aid. Angry discussions.
,, 1258. The word “Parliament " first used by
Matthew Paris in 1246.
,, 1258. A PARLIAMENT at Oxford; Archbishops, Bishops,
Earls, and nearly 100 Barons.
,, 1259. A general PARLIAMENT in London.
,, 1265. A PARLIAMENT summoned to Westminster by
Simon de Montfort, in the King's name;
Writs sent to Archbishop, Bishops, Abbots,
5 Earls, 17 Barons, and to the Sheriffs, to
send Knights from the Counties, and Bur-
gesses from certain Towns.
,, 1266. The King freed. A PARLIAMENT at Kenilworth.
Influence of Prince Edward paramount.
,, 1267. A PARLIAMENT, or “Commune Concilium Regni,”
at Marlborough : “The more discreet men of
the realm being called together; as well of
the higher as of the lower estate.”
APPENDIX.
455
3 y
UNDER EDWARD I. A.D. 1272–1307,
. 1272.
1274.
1275.
1276.
1277.
1278.
1279.
1282.
1283.
1284.
1285.
1289.
1290.
1295.
1296.
1298.
1299.
1300.
1301
1302.
1304.
1806.
Accession.
Coronation.
A PARLIAMENT at Westminster: the first so termed
in the Statute-book: consisting of Arch-
bishops, Bishops, Earls, Barons, and “ la
Communauté de la Terre.”
£ARLIAMENTS at Westminster and at Winchester,
A PARLIAMENT.
A PARLIAMENT at Gloucester.
A PARLIAMENT at Westminster.
A PARLIAMENT at Northampton. -
A PARLIAMENT at Shrewsbury; Writs to 11 Earls,
99 Barons, 2 Knights for each County, 2
Citizens from each of 21 Cities.
A PARLIAMENT at Rhudland.
PARLIAMENTs in Westminster and in Winchester.
The King now abroad.
PARLIAMENT at Westminster.
PARLIAMENT at Westminster.
Scottish Arbitration, War with France.
PARLIAMENT at Westminster ; Writs to Arch-
bishops, Bishops, Earls, Barons, Knights,
and Burgesses of 115 Towns.
PARLIAMENT at Bury St. Edmund's.
PARLIAMENT at York; Earls, Barons, Knights,
and Burgesses of 127 Towns.
PARLIAMENTS in London and Westminster.
PARLIAMENT in London; Archbishops, 17 Bishops,
99 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses of 128
Towns. -
PARLIAMENT at Lincoln; Archbishops, Bishops,
Earls, Barons, Knights, and Burgesses of
137 Towns.
PARLIAMENT in London; Archbishops, Bishops,
9 Earls, 82 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses
from 146 Towns.
PARLIAMENT in Westminster; Archbishops, Bi-
shops, 9 Earls, 94 Barons, Knights, and
Burgesses of 159 Towns.
PARLIAMENT in Carlisle ; Archbishops, Bishops,
7 Earls, 63 Barons, Knights, and Burgesses
of 165 Towns.
456 APPENDIX.
Örigin amb (ºroſuth of Čnglish £egislation,
UNDER THE NORMAN KINGS. A.D. 1066–1216,
A.D. 1106. Charters granted by Henry I.
, 1185. 33 35 Stephen.
95 33 Henry II.
“ 1215. Magna Charta, by John.
|UNDER HENRY III. A.D. 1216–1272.
A.D. 1216. Minority of the King.
,, 1236. THE “STATUTEs of THE REALM” commRNCE,
93 , The Provisions of Merton. “It was provided in
the Court of our Lord the King.”
The Statute of Ireland. A Royal Ordinance.
,, 1256, A Provision for Leap Year. A Royal Ordinance.
,, 1259. Provisions made by the King and his Council.
,, 1266. The Dictum of Kenilworth. An award between
the King and the revolted Barons.
,, 1267. (Prince Edward now possesses influence.)
The Statutes of Marlborough; styled “These Acts,
Ordinances, and Statutes underwritten.”
APPENDIX. 457
UNDER EDWARD I. A.D. 1272–1307.
A.D. 1272. Accession of Edward.
,, 1274. Coronation.
,, 1275. The Statutes of Westminster.
,, 1276. The Statute of Bigamy.
— The Office of Coroners.
— The Statute concerning Justices.
,, 1278. The Statutes of Gloucester.
,, 1279. The Statute of Mortmain.
,, 1283. The Statute “de Mercatoribus.”
,, 1284. The Statutes of Wales.
,, 1285. Statute Circumsp. Agatis.
9; $ 3 Statutes of Westminster II.
33 33 Statute of Winton.
,, 1290, Statute of “Quo Warranto.”
3 p 32 Statute of “Quia Emptores.”
3 2 5 2. Statutes of Westminster III.
,, 1299. Statutes “de Finibus levatis.”
3.5 53 Statute “de Falsa Moneta.”
, 1301. Statute for Escheators.
,, 1806. Statute for Joint Tenants.
,, 1807. Statute of Carlisle.
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